The ring was getting crowded with more people pouring in to congratulate me.
I quickly duck out of the ring, staggering my way towards the Mafia boss.
"You proved me, wrong Smith," he says. His face ached with respect.
"The boy," I said dryly. Having no time or urged to talk. When I opened my mouth, my jaw quivers in pain.
He pushes the boy forward causing him to trip and fall. I quickly help him up to his feet. He flinched at my touch.
That was expected.
"Don't be scared I'm taking you home" his eyes widened.
"Home?" His scratchy tiny voice queried
"Yes," I stretched my hand forward. His eyes were twinged with doubts. He hesitates before placing his hand in mine.
I gripped him firmly and led him out of the boxing club with my steps unsteady. My body punishes me, every step I take causes a surge of pain to whirl up in me. I clutched my ribs, it aches terribly. My chest was constrained in pain.
"Let me help you."
