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.The pain was intense and sudden and astounding and then the ring was in and my heart was racing and I thought, Wow, I did it.It’s over.Then the piercer started prepping the other nipple.That second nipple was a thousand times worse.The first time I had no similar experience to compare it to, no idea what was coming, but that second time.That second time every single nerve in my body knew exactly what was coming.That was the worst pain I had ever experienced.Well, before the whole vigilante thing, anyway.What I’m trying to say is this.When Lovell asked if I had his missing cocaine, I flashed back hard to another man asking about something that was missing.Torturing me.Suddenly, any semblance of bad-ass I might have cultivated since then went right out the window.People who think they’d be all tough in that kind of situation have never been really hurt.“Leave her alone,” Cody said, trying to be valiant, struggling against the meathead’s grip.“She didn’t do anything.”“So you admit it was you?” Lovell asked.“What was me?” Cody asked, voice cracking.“What the fuck are you talking about?” Then suddenly, realization flooded his features.“Okay, hang on a second.You’re saying something was missing from the shipment?”“Yes,” Lovell said.“That’s what I’m saying.”“Why the fuck would I want to steal steroids?” he asked.“You know I can’t use that shit because of the show.It must have been Beto, or someone else from the school.”“Steroids.” Lovell squinted at Cody.“Right.Who else has the combination for your locker?”“Well.” Cody paused, brow creased.“Well, nobody except your pick-up guy.How do you know he didn’t take it?”“Because I know,” Lovell said.“Just like I know it was you who took the missing jar.”“I didn’t take anything,” Cody said.“You’re crazy.”Lovell froze, genial smile melting away.“Okay,” he said.“I’m done with this now.”He turned away from us and stood there, unmoving, while the biker bound Cody’s hands behind his back with a length of greasy, splintery rope.I’m ashamed to admit the tremendous, knee-melting relief I felt when it became evident that Lovell wasn’t going to torture me.At least not right then and there.“Mr.Lovell, listen,” Cody said.“This is some kind of terrible misunderstanding, okay? Come on, can’t we just talk about this for a second?”The biker stuck a knotted rag in Cody’s mouth and tied it behind his head.Apparently not.“I’m writing this off,” Lovell said to no one in particular as he sat down behind his desk.“Let’s go, baby,” my pal with the gun said to me, gripping my upper arm and hustling me out of the office.Cody and the biker followed close behind.Out in the main room with the ring nobody noticed or cared about us as we were marched along behind the last row of seats.They were all too into the fight.When I looked up into the ring, I saw it was Hank up there.His face was flushed, lips distended and horsey from his mouthguard.One eye was bloody and swollen shut, but he seemed to notice me right at the same moment that I noticed him.His head turned, good eye widening at the sight of the guy with the rifle behind me.Hank’s handsome Mexican opponent took that split-second distraction to deliver a devastating right that sent Hank spinning across the ring in a drunken pirouette.The crowd screamed and jeered and the guy with the rifle steered me away, towards a large metal fire door in the back of the room.I stole one last glance at the ring, and saw Hank face down on the mat with the ref crouching over him waving his arms.I was horribly sure that was going to be the last time I ever saw Hank.17.The fire door led to a fenced-in parking lot.A dented blueand-white ’70s-era Suburban was idling just outside the door like it had been waiting for us.Behind the wheel was an older guy with slick white hair and a stoic Indio face.He nodded, then got out, spat on the concrete and headed around to unlock the hatchback.The biker brought Cody forward, bound his ankles together and tossed him into the back of the Suburban like a trussed buck.The white-haired guy got back behind the wheel and for a second I was sure he was gonna drive off with Cody and that would be that.I even had a half-composed apology to Vic spinning through my mind when my pal with the rifle dragged me over to the passenger side, threw my go-bag in and got in after it, then pulled me up into his lap.I tried to shut out my fear and anger and how bad I wanted to break the guy’s wandering fingers as they kept on finding their way up under my shirt.I tried to focus and think of nothing but how close that go-bag was, bumping against my foot as the big old SUV tore down winding, unpaved roads to God only knew where.My pal had the long rifle at his side, but there wasn’t enough space for him to actually use it.He and the driver were having some kind of spirited debate in Spanish.There had to be a way to get to the tiny Warthog in the side pocket of my go-bag, but I didn’t want to give even the smallest hint that I was anything other than a terrified little girl until I was sure I could prove it.As we drove, I pictured Cody in the back, bound and bouncing painfully around.What could be going through his mind? Was he really as clueless as he seemed? He seemed to really believe this was all about steroids.Or at least that’s what he wanted me to think
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