don’t you?”
Mick nodded then looked over to the old guy beside him. The old fella still sat there, staring forward, the puke not seeming to faze him. “Sorry,” Mick told him.
A minute later, a security guard came to the edge of the row. “Hey, buddy, what’s going on?” He sniffed the air. “Ah, that’s nasty.”
Jack sucked himself further back against his seat to allow the security guard room to lean over and talk to Mick. The guard obviously had no trouble singling out who the troublemaker was.
Just what I need.
“Get up. Get out.” The guard thumbed toward the aisle.
Mick nodded, got up slowly, and, careful not to slip, made his way over to the guard.
“Let’s go,” the guard said and gripped him firmly by the biceps.
He no doubt knows who I am, Mick thought. And if not, it won’t take long for whoever ends up seeing me to inform Sterpanko. Guess it’s over now. Was fun while it lasted even though I blew it big time tonight.
He glanced back once at Jack. The big guy just remained in his seat, eyes toward the cage on the floor. Many others followed Mick with their eyes as he was escorted out of the arena proper and into the hallway beyond. From there, the security guy took him to the bathroom.
“Clean up,” he told Mick.
Mick just looked at him, not sure what to make of it.
“You heard me: clean up.”
“Okay.” Mick went into the bathroom and immediately to the sink where he splashed water on his face several times. Guess I gotta look my best before I say my prayers and get beaten to death. He placed both palms on either side of the sink and stared into the basin, water dripping off his face. “I’m sorry, Anna.”
“You should be.”
Mick turned his head. Anna punched him in the mouth. Where’d she— Blood gushed from his lip. The next moment, her fist came for his face again. Then it went dark.
A spike of pain blossomed at the back of his head and something cool was against his back, its cold seeping through his clothes. He opened his eyes to find himself on the bathroom floor, staring up into the face of the security guard who had brought him to the bathroom to begin with.
“Anna!” Mick shouted. He sat up quickly. Dizziness soon took over and he fell to the side. He used his forearm to break his fall, ignored the pain in his elbow from the impact, and waited a moment for the tidal wave of blood in his brain to pass. Softly: “Anna. Where is she?”
“Get up.” The guard tugged him to his feet.
“My wife. She was here. She was—” Mick’s eyes hurt. His nose was on fire. “Anna.”
The guard pulled him by the arm. Mick tripped. The guard yanked him up and dragged him out of the bathroom.
“Anna . . . Anna . . . she was here. She hit me. She was here,” Mick said. The guard pulled him along. Mick planted his feet down, forcing the guard to stop. “Hey, I’m talking, man.” The guard grimaced. “Where’s my wife?” Mick pointed back in the direction of the bathroom. “Let me say this slowly so you understand: there’s a woman here. She’s my wife. She was in the bathroom. She hit me.”
The guard pulled on his arm and dragged him a couple steps.
“Are you even listening to me?”
The guard kept pulling.
“Hey!” Mick shouted and swatted the guard in the back of the head. The guard pitched forward, regained his balance, then pulled out his baton, spun around and brought it across Mick’s face.
The world spun and things went dark again.
The next thing he felt was his butt slamming into something. When his head began to clear and he slowly opened his eyes, he found himself back in his seat, his left cheekbone aching, the Controller in his lap. No puke by his seat.
“Rough time?” Jack asked. “They cleaned things up while you were gone. Still stinks though. They might have left a tad, I don’t know.”
“I . . . I don’t—” I don’t know. I don’t . . . I don’t know what I saw or what’s going on anymore. Anna was there. I saw her. She hit
Mick nodded then looked over to the old guy beside him. The old fella still sat there, staring forward, the puke not seeming to faze him. “Sorry,” Mick told him.
A minute later, a security guard came to the edge of the row. “Hey, buddy, what’s going on?” He sniffed the air. “Ah, that’s nasty.”
Jack sucked himself further back against his seat to allow the security guard room to lean over and talk to Mick. The guard obviously had no trouble singling out who the troublemaker was.
Just what I need.
“Get up. Get out.” The guard thumbed toward the aisle.
Mick nodded, got up slowly, and, careful not to slip, made his way over to the guard.
“Let’s go,” the guard said and gripped him firmly by the biceps.
He no doubt knows who I am, Mick thought. And if not, it won’t take long for whoever ends up seeing me to inform Sterpanko. Guess it’s over now. Was fun while it lasted even though I blew it big time tonight.
He glanced back once at Jack. The big guy just remained in his seat, eyes toward the cage on the floor. Many others followed Mick with their eyes as he was escorted out of the arena proper and into the hallway beyond. From there, the security guy took him to the bathroom.
“Clean up,” he told Mick.
Mick just looked at him, not sure what to make of it.
“You heard me: clean up.”
“Okay.” Mick went into the bathroom and immediately to the sink where he splashed water on his face several times. Guess I gotta look my best before I say my prayers and get beaten to death. He placed both palms on either side of the sink and stared into the basin, water dripping off his face. “I’m sorry, Anna.”
“You should be.”
Mick turned his head. Anna punched him in the mouth. Where’d she— Blood gushed from his lip. The next moment, her fist came for his face again. Then it went dark.
A spike of pain blossomed at the back of his head and something cool was against his back, its cold seeping through his clothes. He opened his eyes to find himself on the bathroom floor, staring up into the face of the security guard who had brought him to the bathroom to begin with.
“Anna!” Mick shouted. He sat up quickly. Dizziness soon took over and he fell to the side. He used his forearm to break his fall, ignored the pain in his elbow from the impact, and waited a moment for the tidal wave of blood in his brain to pass. Softly: “Anna. Where is she?”
“Get up.” The guard tugged him to his feet.
“My wife. She was here. She was—” Mick’s eyes hurt. His nose was on fire. “Anna.”
The guard pulled him by the arm. Mick tripped. The guard yanked him up and dragged him out of the bathroom.
“Anna . . . Anna . . . she was here. She hit me. She was here,” Mick said. The guard pulled him along. Mick planted his feet down, forcing the guard to stop. “Hey, I’m talking, man.” The guard grimaced. “Where’s my wife?” Mick pointed back in the direction of the bathroom. “Let me say this slowly so you understand: there’s a woman here. She’s my wife. She was in the bathroom. She hit me.”
The guard pulled on his arm and dragged him a couple steps.
“Are you even listening to me?”
The guard kept pulling.
“Hey!” Mick shouted and swatted the guard in the back of the head. The guard pitched forward, regained his balance, then pulled out his baton, spun around and brought it across Mick’s face.
The world spun and things went dark again.
The next thing he felt was his butt slamming into something. When his head began to clear and he slowly opened his eyes, he found himself back in his seat, his left cheekbone aching, the Controller in his lap. No puke by his seat.
“Rough time?” Jack asked. “They cleaned things up while you were gone. Still stinks though. They might have left a tad, I don’t know.”
“I . . . I don’t—” I don’t know. I don’t . . . I don’t know what I saw or what’s going on anymore. Anna was there. I saw her. She hit
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