Tap Out (39 page)

Coach is like a vice. “Tony, just look. Look at Rob.” He moves my head.

In front of me, through my filtered-tunnel vision, is Rob. He's in the same position as when he dropped. I shove off the ground, and Coach lets go. I crawl to my friend.

He's surrounded by a pool of blood so wide it's incomprehensible. “Rob? Hey, Rob?”

But he does not answer, and a sickness within me rises and I hurl. I make sure to point my face away from him and retch until I'm just gagging. Then I wipe my face and turn back to him. I grab his hand. It's still warm. I move to his chest and feel for a heartbeat, check for breathing. Nothing. I lay my head on him and am too angry to cry. This hurts more than my body does. More than anything I've ever felt in my entire life.

“Tony?” Her voice is soft and feels dreamlike.

I look up at Amy. She's biting her fingers, staring at Rob. I wave her down to the ground. She kneels.

“I heard the noise and figured they were partying. But, Tony . . . what?” She loses her words into a sob. She stares at Rob and touches his cheek and loses her shit all over again.

I feel so cold, so drained of life, but I reach out to her. I put an arm around her back and whisper, “I'm sorry.”

She sits up, smacks me. “You're
sorry
? That's all you can say? Rob is fucking dead and you're sorry? It's your fault, Tony! He's dead because of you. If he hadn't been looking out for your pathetic ass, he'd still be . . .” She doesn't finish. Doesn't need to. I know what she intends and I know she's right. Sorry isn't enough.

I don't want to leave his side, but I have to. This isn't over.

I stand and make my way back to Chaz. Coach blocks me. “Tony, no.”

“Coach, get out of my fucking way.”

“You don't want to do this.”

“How the fuck do you know what I want? You have no clue, no fucking clue how life is for me. So just step out of the way and let me make one goddamn fucking choice in my life.”

Coach sizes me up and I think he's about to strike, when he steps to the side. “Just make sure this is a decision you can live with.”

I ignore him and move to Chaz, who is moaning, probably about to wake up. I turn and look around. The crew is broken, as are the Front. Blood flows from everyone I see, and bruises swell faces so I can't recognize most. But I see Marcus, and he's near Cameron, who's on the ground. I move to them and see the knife in Cameron's throat. I register this fact and don't feel much more than a shred of relief. I pull the knife from his neck, nod at Marcus, and make my way back to Chaz.

His eyes are open and he's sitting up, but clearly is out of it. I kick him in the head and send him right back down, straddle his chest.

“Vo-Tec. Here to finish the job?” He wheezes and smiles at me.

I don't like the smile, would like to cut it off his face. “Yes. Ready?”

“Always am.”

He's calm, not even fighting, and I know it's a trick, a way for me to let my guard down. Fuck that. I lift the knife and he watches it.

“I knew you'd be one of us. Have that spirit.”

“I'm nothing like you, Chaz.” I spit in his face.

He laughs again. “You can tell yourself anything you want, but we both know the truth.”

I don't want it to but straddling this piece of shit, it comes swift and fierce: I am one of them. But not because of how I've been raised and the shitty expectations of me, but because of this one choice. If I kill him, I am no better. He killed Rob, so he deserves it. But if I kill him, does that make it even, or does that change everything?

I look up and see the crew, Coach and the Front. In the distance Amy is crying. I stand up and throw the knife away.

“That's what I thought.” Chaz gets to his feet, and the Front moves in around him.

My crew circles behind me. No one has fight left in them, except for me and possibly Chaz. I have no idea how this is going to play out.

“Answer me, Tony. Why didn't you kill me?” Chaz's voice is tight.

“Because you don't deserve it.”

He laughs. “The fuck is that supposed to mean? You pussy?”

My back stiffens. “Call me whatever the fuck you want, it makes no difference.
You
make no difference.”

“Stupid. Plain stupid. I just killed your friend. How can that
not
make a difference?”

I close my eyes, and for a moment wish I had killed him, and know that I still can. But I let it pass. “People die every day. Scumbags like you kill the innocent and each other. You
have an effect, yeah. But you make no difference. It's all the fucking same.”

“Didn't you torch that place back there? Or is that my imagination?”

“No proof of that. Of the other three who were there, one is dead. One hates you, and the other is as trustworthy as that dead trash over there.” I point at Cameron and feel nothing. “Even if I did, I was forced, so say what you want, but it's only you who is listening.”

“Doesn't matter what I hear, only what I know. I trust you get that now.”

“I do. And I trust you know that I don't give a fuck what you know. You're going to get out of here, take that body with you, and never come back, right?”

Chaz looks around, his eyes for once, unsteady. “Maybe? Might be back. What will you do then?”

I know. I have no doubt what I'll do if this fuck ever returns. But for now that doesn't matter. For now, there is only this moment. “We'll see.”

“Damn straight.” Chaz circles around his head. “Clean this shit up and get packing. Our plans haven't changed.” He looks back at me. “Neither have mine for you.”

I don't bother to answer, just watch him go. Watch the crew support each other and drag Cameron's body into Dave's car. I watch Dave protest, give me one last look, and then slam his door shut. Marcus nods at me and then disappears into the shadows. The Front mount their bikes and then ride, the bikes searing the night with growls that match the pain swirling inside.

I turn and see who is left.

There's Coach, bloody and bruised, Amir and Phil, likewise. Mike's got a broken collarbone, and the Blob's knee is
busted. The rest are equally mangled, but alive. I know I look like roadkill, but do not care. I walk and this family parts for me. I go to Rob.

Amy is still at his side. I touch her. She glares, fierce like an animal, and I'm reminded of my mother and hurt all over again. “Amy, I know you don't want to speak to me. I don't blame you. But please understand this . . .” I pull myself together. “Without Rob I'd be dead. I know that, just as much as I know you loved him. This is on me and I will never forget it. I don't know what I can do about it, but I will try. I will figure this out and make it right. Somehow.”

Amy's face pulls one direction and then another. She goes to scream, to lash out, but then stops. “You'd better.” Her voice is low, harsh. “You'd better because he deserves it, Tone.”

I nod, grab his hand, and silently say my good-bye. “Let us”—I point at the crew—“get out of here. And if the cops don't come, call them. Tell them whatever you want. The truth, a lie. It makes no difference to me. They'll at least take care of Rob. Okay?”

She nods, her hair falling in a mess around her face. “I won't lie, Tone. I know what happened. Those fuckers killed Rob. That's all I need to say.”

“Thank you.” I turn from her and back to Coach. “Let's get the fuck out of here.”

“I was thinking the same thing. The gym. We'll be safe there.”

I'm not sure he's right, but I agree. I move toward his truck, but stop. “Give me two minutes. I need to see my mom.”

“Go on.”

I head to the trailer and climb the stairs.

The house is dark. “Mom?”

No answer.

“Mom, I'm home.”

Nothing.

Panic spreads. “Mom!”

“What?” Her voice rips from the living room and I turn on a light. She swivels in the chair to see me and stops. “Tony! What happened? Oh my God, are you all right?” She feels me over and looks at the blood and stutters.

“I'm fine.” I lean against the wall for support. “I'm going back out, to the gym, but I needed to let you know something first.”

Her face clouds and she takes a step back. I see her again, from just hours before, on the floor, beneath me. I almost wish Cam had killed me.

“Mom, I'm sorry.” I reach out, but she backs away. I understand. “I don't know what came over me, and I understand if you hate me forever. But I am sorry.” I swallow and look directly in her eyes. “And it's done. Cameron's dead.”

She falls back into the chair and her mouth moves, but the words seem to get caught in her throat. After a moment she manages to say, “Really? He's gone?”

I nod.

She puts a hand to her face. “Thank you.” Tears run and I want to reach out to her, but I turn away.

“I have to go, but I'll be back in a bit. If the cops roll up, I haven't been here. I've been at practice.”

She nods. I may have taken care of Cam for her, but I've got some ground to make up.

I ride in silence with Coach and when we get to the gym I collapse on the floor, in the dark, with the rest of the guys. No one speaks. No one has to.

I
've just come from Rob's funeral. It's the day after Christmas, and I've never felt so lost in my entire life. I'm numb. I have no clue if I'll ever get used to the idea that he's gone. Seeing his body didn't make it any more real than seeing him on the ground. I wish I could feel more, but I think it just hurts too much.

Rob's parents wouldn't look at me and scowled at the guys and Coach Dan. Our busted bodies told the other half of the story that everyone here is sharing, but that the cops can't prove. They questioned all of us, even yesterday, on Christmas. But the fire and Rob getting in the way of the Front's quick exit—and whatever the fuck they think happened to Cam—was just too convenient of an explanation for them to take, even if for some reason they wanted to dig deeper.

The couch squeaks beneath me as I sit, and the house is so quiet. There's no Cameron. No Front. No Rob. My mother hovers, but does not know what to say. Not that I expect her to. What can she possibly think of me now?

“You want something to drink? Hungry?”

I shake my head. “No. Maybe later.”

“We should talk, Tony. When you're ready.”

I turn to her. She's better than before, than when she was with Cameron, but the scars are visible and the worry in her
eyes is unmistakable. “I'm ready whenever you are. I'm the one who needs to apologize.”

She moves to the recliner across from me. “Go ahead.”

I stare at the floor and begin. “I had no right to treat you the way I did, to think you had taken my money, and especially not to hurt you.” I choke on the last words.

“I'm used to it, so don't beat yourself up.”

I look up. “But that's the point. I know you're used to it and
I
used that against you. I'm terrible.”

“No. No, you're not terrible. You made a mistake, but not for nothing, I think you've paid.” Her statement hangs in the air. “Besides, I know you're as much a part of me as you are him. More so. It's only a matter now of how you see yourself.”

She's right. For once there's real parenting coming out of her mouth and I'm amazed by it. Still, being part her is not as soothing as she might think. “All those years ago, when they tested me, and I was smart and all, why didn't you get me into the program?”

Her eyes bug and she puts up her hands. “Where is this coming from?”

“I'll explain.”

She frowns and crosses her arms over her chest. “Your father was smart. Like you. Just knew shit without having to have read it or anything. Back when we got together I thought that was going to save me, was going to make up for how stupid I am. It didn't. Because regardless of how smart you are, if you drink yourself into an asshole, then that's all you are.” She looks at me. Her eyes are tear-rimmed. “I didn't want you to get so smart that you saw me like he did. I didn't want you to be him.”

I sigh. As fucked up as that logic is, I understand it.

“If I had the chance to use my brain, how would you feel?”

“Huh?”

I explain about Big O's offer, what could happen. How I may still have a way out. She stares and then looks away. I see the scar in her profile and feel sick for even bringing this up.

“You take it.” She rushes to me, grabs my hands in hers. “You take it and you do something. I'm not smart like you. Never will be. But I know enough. Someone's willing to help, willing to get you out of here. You take it.”

I pull my mother into a hug. “I'm sorry for everything. For all that I've done.”

“Don't apologize anymore. You are who you are. The good. The bad. That's life.”

I close my eyes and I breathe deep and am still. I don't know what will come or what I'll have to face. The Front may be back for me, but I doubt it. And if they do, I've got a family who will back me up. Coach Dan believes in me, and it has nothing to do with fighting. That's just our outlet for this fucked-up world.

Mom's right. I'm nowhere near all good. But I'll honor my promise to Amy. I'll repay all that Rob sacrificed.

On the mat, in the classroom, in the street. It's all a fight. And I'll take comfort knowing that there's no way in hell I'm ever tapping out.