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weaklings.   He never once heard the man apologize for anything, and if anyone had anything to be sorry for, it should be Darryl Slater. 
     
    The door of the elevator opened for Joel and he pressed seven as he walked in and leaned against the back wall, closing his eyes and trying to banish thoughts of his father from his mind.  Thinking of him rarely led to anything good, only serving to make his blood boil.  If he was going to apologize to Amber he needed to remain calm and level headed.
     
    Closing his eyes only served to remind him how tired he was, though.  He almost missed the doors as they started to close at his floor, only saving himself from another trip to the lobby by hastily thrusting his arm in between and letting them crash into him and then rebound as they sensed an obstruction.  By the time he had made his way into the apartment, he had forgotten about his desire to shower and clean the fresh film of sweat from his body and instead flopped down onto the couch to wait for Amber.
     
    The apartment was still hot, the AC still not working properly.  Joel offered to talk to the landlord to try and convince him to fix it, but Amber had an idea of what type of persuasive techniques he'd be tempted to try so she dissuaded him.  She'd been right, of course.  He needed to stop trying to solve problems with his fists.  Breaking that lifelong habit would be tough. 
     
    As much as he wanted to help and contribute, get out of the debt he felt like he owed to her, he was starting to rethink his decision to go back and fight for Randy.  His whole life no one had really earned his respect the way Amber had.  She gave selflessly and the only thing she had really asked of him was that he give up those underground matches because they were too dangerous.  
     
    It was odd to him, having someone care about him the way that she did.  He'd never had that feeling before, even from his own parents.  Amber respected him, his quirks and his temper, his obsessive need for privacy about his past, his touchiness about money and debt.  If all she really wanted in return for all of that was to know that he was safe and not getting his ass kicked in an alley somewhere, he should do his best to just give that to her.  There was very little else that was within his power to give.  He wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve someone like her in his life, but he found himself wanting to finally trust her.  It was a relief to finally have someone like that in his life.
     
    He was still going over it in his mind when exhaustion finally overtook his senses, snatching consciousness away from him and replacing it with a deep and dreamless slumber.
     
    Amber
    Amber ran through the dark house, chasing after Joel but each time her fingers came closer to catching him, he would seem to dissolve between her fingers and run a different way.  "Missed!" he said. 
     
    Her feet were moving faster now, but the walls were tilting back and forth as if the whole house were teetering on its edge.  First one way, then the opposite.  Joel ran by and she tried for him again.  He slipped through her right hand but then her left swung around.  That was too late as well.
     
    "Miss, miss," he taunted.  Why couldn't she hold onto him?
     
    "Miss?"
     
    Amber jumped as a hand touched her shoulder.  "Miss, we're here.  $23.50."
     
    She blinked a few times as she let reality sink in and ground her.  The cab driver's weathered hand snaked back through the plexiglass divider between them.  He didn't look very happy at having to wake up his fare. 
     
    "Sorry," Amber mumbled.  She reached into her purse and withdrew a twenty and a ten, pushing it through the hole he had just used to wake her up.  "Keep the change."  That elicited a smile at least.  It had been an expensive ride for her, but Simon had insisted and she was glad he had.  The subway wasn't running at this time of night anyway, and the all night bus would have been packed