Spirit of a Champion (Sisters of Spirit #7) (7 page)

Umm...no!

Stormy removed the robe, got back into her own sticky clothes,
and finished towel-drying her hair. She needed her purse, but it was in the
main room, so she finger-combed her hair, then left, sans make-up. She paused
long enough in the bedroom to straighten the rumpled bed cover. Two double beds
stood in the room, making her wonder who else stayed there.

Not her business. She opened the door into the main sitting room
and stepped through.

Kyle stood at the outer door next to a serving cart laden with
covered dishes. Seeing her he nodded a greeting and finished tipping a hotel
employee. The man left and Kyle pushed the cart further into the room, over by
a table that stood near the window.

"Come eat." He started pulling off the lids and
looking inside.

"That was fast," she said, suddenly ravishingly hungry
as the smell of food permeated the air.

"I have a standing order with them. I just called down and
asked them to add a plate and a few more dishes." He set the plates out on
the table.

She walked over; reached out to help.

"No. I'll do that. Sit down and rest."

She did, realizing her legs were still wobbly, happy at his
thoughtfulness. He set a large glass of water in front of her, along with an
electrolyte drink. "Here, have some more."

While she sipped, still thirsty, he put a plate, knife and fork
in front of her, then positioned the cart so they both could reach it and serve
themselves.

"Chicken tonight," he said, raising the lids on the
dishes. "Lots of vegetables. Asparagus. Potatoes and peas."

"Looks good. Smells good." It smelled so good she
could have cried. All this. To get help and food. After having to fight for
everything since she’d gotten here, it was almost too much.

He motioned her to go ahead and she helped herself to some of
everything. It wasn't that she particularly wanted to eat with the enemy, but
she was weak and shaky and hungry. Eating only breakfasts had not been enough
for the amount of activity she was trying to do.

"Where is Jerry training," Kyle asked as he filled his
plate. "What gym?"

"I don't know. He's staying at the Old Ranchero Inn at the
present time."

"That place? That's pretty much a dump."

Stormy laughed. "Well, you can’t say this is."

She had laughed.
The sparkle came to her eyes and Kyle smiled back, so very
relieved to see that she was feeling better. She had really had him worried for
awhile.
Now he knew where she was staying. Maybe he would make it to first base after
all.

“No, this hotel is anything but a dump. I can relax here without
worrying about someone banging on my door in the middle of the night. Or an
autograph seeker looking me up on the hotel register.”

“I see. Although you can't call your gym first class.”

"Ah, but it is. It's the kind of gym I like to work out
in...small, discrete, no interruptions. Marty will keep everyone away while I
do my last week of training."

"Some fighters like to rough it while they’re training."

"True. But I don't know why Jerry would put you and your
dad up in the Old Ranchero. He's making good money." Her family puzzled
him.

"They didn't expect me to come down so soon."

He set down his filled plate and took his seat, frowning at her.
"No?"

"I'm not staying with them."

"Why not?”
Looks like he didn’t have her address. He’d have to get it some
other way. Maybe by taking her home tonight
.

"I told you...Dad doesn't believe there's anything wrong
with Jerry."

"So?" They still should have taken care of her. He
didn’t like it.

"Well, I kept insisting, so he asked me to leave...to go
back to Idaho, but...Kyle, I'm not lying. My brother does have those soft
spots. If you hit him the way you hit your last opponent, you’ll kill
him."

"I'd like to believe you, but I've got to have more
proof." This wasn’t a date she was asking him to break. A championship
title match involved thousands of hours and hundreds of people. It was a huge
undertaking and cost millions just to put it on.

"Then I'll get it for you, somehow. I'm not playing mind
games with you."

He hoped not! "I'll give you the names of the ring doctors
before you leave, all right?"

"Yes. That should help."

"Now, let's talk about something more pleasant. Another
drink?"

"Yes, thank you.” She smiled and put her glass where he
could refill it with cold water.

"Why were you walking? Don't you have a car down
here?"

 "No."

"I suggest you rent one. Especially if you are going to
keep tilting at windmills."

"I can't afford one. I can't even put one on a credit card
to worry about later. I tore all mine up when I got into debt using them and
have never had one since."

"Well, Vegas is set up for pedestrians...downtown...but the
ring doctors might not have their offices here. You'll need a car to reach
them."
She surely wouldn’t try to ride a bus and walk again, would she?

"I’ll see the ones in town first. But can’t you just refuse
to fight Jerry?”

"Not really. Look, Stormy. He's the challenger and I've
accepted his challenge. If I back out now, he, in effect, wins the match. He
would be named the new champion of the world. And I'd be blacklisted for
refusing to fight when I signed an agreement to do so. I can't do that. I
won't. You need to get some medical evidence we can show the fight
promoters."

He stood up, walked around the room, then came back. "You
understand, don't you?" As the sister and daughter of boxers, she should
know this.

"Not really. In one way, I do. But in another, I don’t.
We’re talking about Jerry’s life. I can't seem to make anyone understand."

"You must have proof."

"Just say you won't fight him."

"It's not the way it goes. He has to refuse to fight
me."
Besides
, he told himself,
this could be the
cleverest way of being psyched out that’s ever happened to me
.

"But you hit so hard, you'll kill him for sure. I've
watched clips of your matches.”

"I've got to fight him."

"You'll kill him."

"His problem. He needs to stop the proceedings. You’ve got
the wrong person. I have to fight. It's all arranged. The tickets have been
sold. The fight will go through unless there is a definite medical reason to
stop it. There’s always a medical clause in the contract."

She slumped, the first time he had seen her look even half
defeated. “Well,” she said, “I’m not quitting. I guess I’ll just take the name
of the doctors and contact them. Someone has to listen to me.”

“I’ll get you the names.” He searched through one of his pieces
of luggage, then another, finally pulling out a packet of papers. “It’s in
here.” He thumbed through the papers, shook his head and then went through them
again. Next he laid them down on the table and turned them over one by one.

“Here it is.”

He pulled out a piece of paper with three names on it and
carried it over to her.

She looked at the names. Then turned the paper over to see if
there was anything written on the back side. “There aren’t any addresses. Or
phone numbers.”

“They don’t give them out.
I think only the boxing commission knows. The managers just have the names. I
got this from my manager, Leon. Maybe the commission will give you the
addresses.”

Stormy felt like crying. She was so discouraged. She had hoped
to take Kyle’s list and talk to each of the ring doctors. She was broke and
exhausted and now extremely disappointed. The let-down was like a physical
blow.

“Oh!” She dropped the names on the table.

“I’m sorry. I thought you knew that I could only give you the
names. I don’t have the rest of the information.”

“Then I’ll start over again with the promoters. They said they
would do something. I’ll ask them what they’ve done so far.”

“And then?”

“Then I’ll see if all the members of the Boxing Commission are
finally here. There were only two when I tried the first time.”

“That’s a good idea.”

She took a deep breath, re-grouping her resolve. “Thank you for
rescuing me, Kyle. I realize now that I was in bad shape.”

“You’re welcome. I considered taking you to the emergency room,
you know.”

“Really?”

“You had me worried there.”

“I’m just glad you saw me at the bus stop.”

“So am I.”

 She stuck her feet into her shoes and grabbed her purse.
As she headed for the door, Kyle said, “I’ll drive you back to your hotel. You
should still rest. Stay off the bus.”

“Thanks.” She waited for him to grab his keys and make a quick
call, then they left together.

The elevator opened onto the casino floor and Kyle started
across, Stormy following.

“Try to keep up,” he said, and she quickly realized what he
meant. Like a flame attracting moths, he drew people instantly to him,
surrounding him, taking pictures. She was pushed to the edges as he tried to
talk, walk and sign a few autographs. He kept the group moving forward, the
edges constantly shifting.

At the door, they flooded out into the covered entrance, Stormy
following. How was he going to get free?

CHAPTER TEN

A car pulled up, and the crowd separated to let it through. Kyle
caught her eye and motioned for her to get inside. She grabbed the door handle,
found it unlocked, and scooted in behind the driver. He pulled forward more
until he was even with Kyle, who shoved a few people out of the way and got
into the front passenger side.

“Thanks, Tommy. Take us around to the south side.”

“Sure, Mr. Torrin.” The driver eased the car through the
dispersing crowd and drove around the building. Here he stopped and got out.
Kyle gave the driver a tip and he went happily back into the building.

“So that’s how it’s done,” Stormy said, moving up front beside
Kyle. “Neat.”

“They focus on me, so it gives you a chance to get in. Now,
where to?”

She told him. It was out on the far side of town.

“That’s more of a dump than where your brother’s staying.”

“I know, but I’m trying to make my money stretch as far as
possible.”

“That’s not a good neighborhood. It’s not safe for a woman
alone.”

“I’ve no other choice. I try to leave early in the morning and
come back before it gets too dark.”

“I don’t like it. Can’t you get any money from your brother? He
makes a good living.”

“He wants me to go home, so I can’t get any from him.”

“Would you take a loan from me?”

“Not right now. Not unless I’m forced to. I appreciate all
you’ve done so far. It’s a lot more than I could expect from someone my brother
has challenged to a fight.”

“I’m not fighting you. And boxers stay fairly close, helping
each other. Although I haven’t been on the canvas for three years now, I still
help out some of the fighters who are having tough times. And I’ll help you
whenever I can. I just can’t stop the fight.”

“Then, thank you.”

He pulled up to her rundown hotel and she stepped out. She held
the door open for a moment, noticing his concerned expression. “I’ll be
careful,” she said. “Thanks again.”

He lifted his hand in acknowledgement and she turned and
scurried through the door.

The next morning Stormy sat in the reception area, waiting and
waiting to be called in to talk to the members of the boxing commission. At
noon the door opened and a woman informed her that the members had gone to
lunch.

“They have many things to discuss. I doubt if they’ll get to you
at all today.”

“Should I come back tomorrow?”

“They know why you’re here. They can discuss it without you.”
The woman smiled pleasantly at her, but Stormy knew she wanted her to leave.

Discouraged, Stormy walked out of the building. Past the slot
machines. It seemed that every building in Las Vegas had slot machines.
Probably a good way to take money from the tourists and avoid having to tax
your citizens. She wondered if the money covered the increase in crime or
gambling problems. She had no way of knowing.

That afternoon, she went to her brother’s hotel. She paused at
the entrance to the casino, letting her eyes grow accustomed to the darkness. A
flurry of activity drew her gaze. Money was what she needed. There was plenty
of it in this room.

Just past where someone had had some luck, her brother sat in
front of three machines, alternately pulling the levers with one hand while
feeding in tokens with the other. Delighted to get an opportunity to speak with
him when their father was not around, she worked her way through the closely
packed machines.