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knuckles throbbed where they connected with his face. She felt her stomach turn as she saw real anger flare in Gage's eyes.
    He charged forward and she careened back, trying to keep some distance between them. The crowd's cheers rose as Gage threw himself fully into the fight. If she could just keep him from landing a good hit, she could take advantage of his anger, his energy. Wear him out, wear him down.
    But he was coming on too strong, and she felt like there was nowhere to run or hide in this tiny ring. She kept her feet moving, but it seemed like he was always just a second behind. His fists whizzed past her head as she ducked and dodged.
    She was turning, spinning away from him, when he caught up with her. His fist caught her hard on the cheek. She reeled back, blinking uselessly at the lights. The crowd roared as she stumbled. Gage kicked out, sweeping her legs out from under her. Hart went down hard, the wind knocked out of her as she hit the mat with a thump .
    Gage pounced, hands on her shoulders, knee pressed to her sternum. She gasped, unable to draw a breath with his weight bearing down on her. The count sounded distant and tinny to her ears.
    Seven, eight, nine ... ten! We have a winner!
    Hart sucked in a painful breath as Gage sprang up, arms in the air. She blinked, sweat dripping in her eyes, her head spinning. The crowd was cheering loudly, but not for her.
    She sat up, wincing at the pain in her body, as the realization swept over her. Gage was pumping his arms in the air, a wide grin on his face. She had lost.
    She watched numbly as Farris handed Gage the purse, a little bag containing the ten dollars she needed so badly.
    Reminding herself that Gage probably needed it too didn't make much of a difference; she still had hungry kids at home.
    Hart hauled herself to her feet before someone came to help her, trying to keep her dignity intact. She staggered out of the ring, keeping her eyes on the ground as she hurried past the next two fighters waiting in the wings. It didn't take long to collect her belongings, just her sweatshirt and shoes. She wiped at the drying blood on her face, feeling the tenderness around her jaw that told her it was going to swell horribly. 
    It hadn't gone as badly as it could have, she knew. No broken bones, no knocked out teeth. But the fact that she was in one piece didn't feed her family. She dragged herself miserably from the building, head down. She had failed. It had just been a fluke—a joke —that Farris even took her tonight. He wouldn't want her again, not when she had lost. And who else would take her? She was too small, too light and too inexperienced.
    She touched her face tenderly and winced. Now she wasn't even good for the other business, not bruised and battered as she was. No man would want a girl with a swollen jaw and shorn-off hair. Or, if one did, he wouldn't be willing to pay much for it.
    She crossed her arms, hunching over herself as she walked. What was she going to tell her mother?
    "Hey, kid!"
    The street was empty, lit by a single streetlight that cast everything in shadow. Hart tensed and kept walking.
    "Hey, I'm talking to you!"
    The voice didn't sound angry or cruel, but that didn't mean the man wasn't going to try to rob her, or hurt her or worse.
    The steps behind her sped up, and before Hart could decide whether she should run, someone fell into step beside her. "Hey. Saw your fight back there."
    "Yeah?" Hart stopped. Had he just come to taunt her about her loss?
    The man was her father's age, clean-shaven and dressed well enough. Clearly from the Alley. He was big and broad, with a nose so crooked she could only guess he had once been a fighter himself.
    "Yeah. You were good."
    Hart snorted. "I lost."
    The man grinned. "Sure. But you lost a lot later than most people were betting on. Name's Leo."
    Hart stared blankly at the hand thrust out towards her before shaking her head and accepting it tentatively.
    "What do you want?"
    "Straight to the