Raq didn’t get nervous before her own fights, but she was petrified now. Bathsheba was scheduled to enter the ring in a few minutes, and Ice hadn’t made it easy for her. Instead of matching her up against a pushover to build her confidence and guarantee an easy victory in her first fight, he and the other promoter had put her in with Sabrina Guthrie, one of the dirtiest fighters in the game. Sabrina didn’t care about what she had to do to win a fight as long as the referee raised her arm after the decision was announced.
“When the referee tells you to protect yourself at all times, it ain’t no joke,” Raq said as Bathsheba jumped rope to work up a sweat. “Sabrina will do whatever it takes to win. Remember that movie where Clint Eastwood trains Hilary Swank to be a boxer? Sabrina puts the bitch who broke Hilary’s neck to shame. We fight bare-knuckled because it ups the risk and brings in more bets. Even though it’s technically against the rules, Sabrina used to wear padded MMA-style gloves in the ring. Ice and the rest of the promoters let her keep them because they were her trademark. The fighters were cool with it, too. Until she got caught loading up her gloves with ball bearings. She turned one girl’s face into mush once by doing that. The officials are supposed to check for shit like that before each bout, but some of them are so shady they’ll let anything slip by for a fee. If Sabrina comes to the ring with her hands wrapped, don’t let her get them anywhere near your eyes because she’s probably soaked the bandages in liniment so she can blur your vision long enough to knock you out.”
“If she’s so bad, why is she allowed in the ring?” Bathsheba said between puffs of air as she continued to skip rope.
“Because she puts butts in the seats. Crowds love having someone to root against, and she makes it easy for them to find someone to hate. They turn out just to see what she’ll do next.”
Bathsheba laughed as she twirled the rope one last time. “I feel like a gladiator about to enter the arena.”
“They don’t call boxing a blood sport for nothing.”
JoJo, the other female member of Ice’s stable on the card tonight, tossed her street clothes in her locker and slammed the dented metal door. “You’re full of advice now, but you didn’t have shit to say when I was new to the game. What’s the matter? I didn’t shake my ass right or something?”
Raq felt her temper flare. She hated when people tried to rewrite history to make themselves look good instead of telling it how it really was. “I tried to tell you things, but you didn’t want to listen. You thought you knew everything.”
A smirk slowly crept across JoJo’s face. “You think you know it all, don’t you? If you think I don’t know some things you don’t, you’d better think again. Or, better yet, why don’t you ask him?”
JoJo jerked her chin toward the door, where Ice’s distinctive profile was displayed on the pebbled glass. Before Raq could ask JoJo what she was trying to say, Ice tapped on the door and came inside without waiting for a response. Dez followed him in while their bodyguards stood outside the door.
“How are you lovely ladies doing this fine evening?” After Raq, Bathsheba, and JoJo murmured variations of the same positive response, Ice spread his arms and said, “I don’t mean to interrupt your preparations, but we need to take care of something before you get down to business.”
He nodded at Dez, who stepped forward with a plastic grocery bag in his hands. When he reached into the bag, Raq hoped he’d come out with something good. Instead, he pulled out three home pregnancy tests and started handing them out.
“What’s this?” Raq asked, turning the box over in her hands.
“New rule,” Ice said. “No female can go into the ring unless she passes one of these tests first. One of King’s girls didn’t let on she was in the family way until she ended up in the hospital after her last fight. I don’t want to have history repeat itself. But that isn’t something I need to worry about because I know none of my girls would keep something like that from me, would they?”
Raq and Bathsheba assured him he had nothing to worry about, but JoJo was strangely quiet.
“You got something you want to tell me, JoJo?” Ice asked.
Raq’s stomach sank when Ice cocked his head. Whenever he did that, it meant something bad was about to happen.
Her eyes downcast, JoJo delicately placed the box containing the pregnancy test on the bench. “Can we talk about this in private?”
“There’s nothing you need to say to me you can’t say in front of my people. What’s up?”
“Um.” JoJo scratched her head as if she was trying to dig up the right answer to Ice’s question. “I was going to tell you.”
“When? When you started to show? What kind of business do you think I’m running here? Your fight’s canceled and so are you.” He snapped his fingers. Bigfoot and Winky stepped forward. “My associates will show you out.”
“But I thought we were tight,” JoJo said as Bigfoot and Winky took her by the arms and began to drag her out of the room.
“You thought wrong.”
“You know the baby’s yours, right?”
“Oh, snap,” Raq said. She had no idea Ice and JoJo had been kicking it. She knew he used to get around, but she thought he had kept his dick on lockdown since he and the Black Dahlia had started knocking boots.
Ice turned on JoJo, his voice as cold as his name. “Like I said, you thought wrong.”
JoJo’s eyes pleaded with him to change his mind, but she was old news as soon as the door closed behind her.
“What are you two waiting for?” Dez asked. He pointed toward the toilet stalls at the back of the room. “Hop to it.”
“Are you serious?” Raq asked. “You know how I roll. All the girls I’ve been with are shooting blanks. I don’t need this.”
She tried to hand the box back, but Dez wouldn’t take it.
“Miracles happen. Now go piss on a stick and pray it doesn’t turn blue.”
Raq dutifully opened the home pregnancy test and headed to a toilet stall. Bathsheba took the stall next to hers. Raq watched Dez’s alligator shoes pace back and forth outside the stall as she held the test stick under her and tried not to pee on her hand. “Is someone going to take JoJo’s place tonight or are we going to forfeit the fight?”
“And lose out on a chance to make some money? Screw that. Ice and I were thinking. We’re going to watch both your fights. Whoever has the more impressive showing will earn a chance to double her money tonight. How does that sound?”
Raq didn’t like the idea of taking money out of Bathsheba’s mouth, but she could use the extra bread.
“It sounds like you’d better get ready to pay me.”
She opened the stall door and tossed Dez the negative test. Dez jumped back as if she’d thrown a bucket of urine at him.
“Congratulations,” he said, carefully holding the test stick between two fingers. “You get paid tonight.” He dropped the test stick into a plastic bag like he was a cop collecting evidence at a crime scene. Then he banged on the door to Bathsheba’s stall. “How’s it coming in there? You didn’t drown, did you?”
Bathsheba flushed the toilet and unlocked the door. “Shy bladder.”
Dez glanced at the test stick before he bagged it up. “Two for two. Now let’s make this money.”
“Bet,” Raq said, giving him a pound.
Ice held his cell phone away from his ear and covered the speaker with his hand so whoever he was talking to couldn’t hear what he was about to say. He kept his shit so tight only a select few knew all the things he was into. He knew. Dez knew. Until today, she thought she did, too, but if he was kicking it with JoJo without her catching wind of it, there was no telling what else she was in the dark about. “Make me proud,” he said, sounding like the father she’d never had. “I’ll see you out there.”
“When do we find out who gets to go twice?” Bathsheba asked.
“Competitive. I like it. I won’t make you wait too long, but don’t get so hung up on impressing me you forget to handle your business.” Ice put the cell phone back to his ear. “Hey, baby. I know you wanted to rent someplace upscale for your album release party, but I think we need to stay away from tuxes and black ties this time out. We should rent the Apollo instead. That way, we can show you’re taking over New York but still keep it street. You can’t try to be Jay-Z until you have his album sales.”
“Forget his album sales,” Raq said under her breath. “I’d rather have his wife.”
“I heard that,” Dez said. “Beyoncé’s about as fine as my new whip.”
“Your Navigator’s righteous, but its curves can’t compare with Mrs. Carter’s.”
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”
“Do you really think you’re going to outdo me tonight?” Raq asked after everyone cleared out.
“I can dream, can’t I?”
Raq didn’t let Bathsheba’s broad grin distract her from what was important. “Are you dreaming of trying to replace me, too, or just JoJo?”
Bathsheba’s smile quickly faded. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Are you sure about that? I’ve worked hard to establish my position. You’re coming up behind me awful fast. Are you sure you aren’t trying to use me to get ahead? All these questions you keep asking about Ice and his operation have me thinking you’re trying to make some moves.”
Bathsheba moved toward her. “What’s gotten into you? I’m not trying to come between you and Ice, but, yes, I am using you.”
“Say what?” Raq had hoped her instincts were wrong. She had hoped the voice in the back of her head that kept telling her she couldn’t trust anyone but herself was wrong this time.
“I’m using every piece of advice you give me so I can become as good a fighter as you are.”
Raq felt relief wash over her like water from a baptismal pool. “It’s good to have a goal,” she said with a laugh.
“You don’t think I can reach it?”
Raq saw the determined look on Bathsheba’s face and noted the defiant set of her jaw. “I think you can do anything you set your mind to.”
“Including taking you out after we get paid? I don’t want you to always be the one doing the asking.”
Raq ran a fingertip across Bathsheba’s cheek. Bathsheba’s eyes grew wide at her touch. Raq watched the pupils darken as desire crossed Bathsheba’s features. “It doesn’t matter who’s asking as long as the answer’s yes, right?”
“You’re a hard one to figure out.”
“You’re not trying to give up on me, are you?”
“I’m too stubborn to give up that easily.” A knock on the door let them know it was time for Bathsheba to head to the ring. “Are you going to watch me fight?”
“I want to, but I don’t want you looking at me when you should be keeping both eyes on your opponent. Remember everything we’ve been working on and you’ll be fine. You can tell me all about it during the steak dinner you’re going to buy me tomorrow night.”
“Steak? I thought I was only going to be on the hook for a two-piece at Miss Marie’s. After what you said at the Peking Gourmet, I thought you were a cheap date.”
“Not when someone else is paying.”
Bathsheba thought Raq was kidding about the steak dinner. A burger and fries seemed more her speed than a T-bone and a baked potato. But Bathsheba thought she might be on to something. If she took Raq to a steakhouse in downtown Baltimore instead of a cheap fast food joint in the Middle East, the change of scenery might shake her up enough to spill secrets she might not be willing to part with in the tight-knit confines of the ’hood.
She put her head down and headed to the ring. As an unknown commodity, she didn’t know how the crowd would receive her. The lingering boos for Sabrina were so loud, they drowned out any cheers that might have greeted the announcement of her name.
She bounced on her toes as the referee recited the instructions. Sabrina had been animated as she taunted the crowd on her way to the ring, but she displayed a curious lack of energy as she stood flat-footed in the center of it.
“Who are you trying to be, the Energizer Bunny?”
Sabrina’s voice sounded like a vinyl single being played at album speed. Bathsheba smelled weed on her breath and something astringent on her bandaged hands. Bathsheba would have to move like Keanu Reeves in The Matrix to make sure Sabrina’s fists didn’t get near her eyes.
“What’s the matter?” Sabrina asked when Bathsheba didn’t respond to her question. “Cat got your tongue?”
Bathsheba held up her fists. “In the ring, I like to do all my talking with these.”
“Then let’s chat.”
As she headed to her corner to await the opening bell, Bathsheba told herself not to take Sabrina lightly. Though she had chemicals coursing through her body and slathered on it, she looked to be in pretty decent shape. Her record wasn’t scintillating, but she had racked up enough wins to earn Bathsheba’s respect.
When the bell rang, Bathsheba approached Sabrina warily. She slowly circled the ring as Sabrina stalked her, threw lazy jabs, and tried to draw her into a clinch so she could rake her knuckles across Bathsheba’s eyes.
Bathsheba easily avoided both Sabrina’s punches and her clumsy attempts at an embrace. The crowd began to whistle and yell for more action, but Bathsheba wasn’t about to let them bait her into doing something stupid. She needed to stick to her game plan. The process might not be pretty, but she didn’t care how she looked as long as she came away with the win. She could be flashy another day. If she lost, she might not get another fight. Then the entire investigation might be in jeopardy.
“That’s it. That’s the way,” Zeke said, calling out encouragement from his seat in the audience. “Feel her out and find your rhythm.”
Bathsheba nodded to indicate she had heard what he said. Zeke was such a good teacher. Unselfish, generous with his time, and eager to share his strategic acumen. He deserved to get hooked up with a boxer who possessed the talent and skills to succeed and a willingness to listen to someone who could help him maximize both. Raq could have been that boxer. If she managed to free herself from Ice’s clutches, she still might be.
When the bell rang to end the round, Bathsheba felt the crowd getting restless. They were there to see a show. So far, she hadn’t put on much of one. She thought she had landed enough punches to win the round on points, but the bloodthirsty crowd wanted to see knockouts, not decisions. She told herself to be patient, however, and wait for an opening instead of forcing the issue.
She got what she was looking for in the middle of the second round.
Sabrina missed with a wild right and left herself vulnerable. Bathsheba caught her on the chin with a left hook and sent her to the canvas. Bathsheba trotted to a neutral corner while the referee began his count. She wished he would hurry things along, but he seemed intent on taking his time.
When the count reached six, Sabrina pulled herself up on all fours and shook her head in an attempt to clear the cobwebs. At eight, she reached for the ring rope and tried to pull herself to her feet. She got halfway up before her legs gave out and she fell to her knees.
“Ten!”
The referee waved his arms and signaled that the fight was over.
Bathsheba felt both satisfaction and relief when she thrust her arms into the air. She hadn’t been in the ring since her days at the academy. Though the circumstances had changed, the thrill of victory remained the same.
“I knew you had it in you,” Raq said when Bathsheba made it back to the locker room, “but let me show you how it’s done.”
Raq’s fight ended almost as soon as the opening bell rang. The first punch she threw was a devastating right that put her opponent to sleep. Her second fight, the one she contested in JoJo’s absence, didn’t last much longer.
Watching Raq in action, Bathsheba hoped she would never have to climb in the ring against her. Raq’s superior height and reach would negate any advantages Bathsheba’s speed might garner. And as for power, Raq had the edge there, too. If they ever found themselves at odds, Bathsheba didn’t like her chances of winning.
“Everyone has a weakness,” she said to herself as the main bout began. “Here’s hoping I find hers before she finds mine.”