Takedown Teague (Caged #1)(42)

Then another.

Then another.

Then about twelve more.

“My God, these are incredible!” I spoke only long enough to gather up more and shovel another mouthful into my face. I leaned back in the chair, groaned, and rubbed my stomach before I stabbed another one and downed it, too.

“I’m going to eat like…ten of these,” I said as I wiped off my face. “And then I’m going to have to work out twice as long today.”

“Watching your figure?” Tria snickered as she sipped her juice. It was good, too—lots of pulp in it.

“Well, I have to stay in my weight class,” I said. “I’m right at two hundred and five pounds on most days, which puts me at the top of light heavyweight. If I gain a pound, I’d have to fight bigger guys.”

“Is it really so strict?”

“In the bar, not as much,” I told her. “But if anyone ever lost and they could show I was over the weight limit, it would definitely create a lot of drama, which would get me in a lot of trouble with Dordy. Yolanda weighs me before every match.”

“But…you’re working tonight!” Tria gasped. “What if you go over? Shit…I f*cked this up already!”

“Nah,” I said with a half smile. “I was at two-oh-three on Tuesday. I have room to spare. I’ll weigh in at training today, and if I’m over at all, I’ll sit in the sauna a little longer than normal or run an extra mile. It’s all good. I can actually drop two pounds in a few hours if I need to.”

“Really?” She looked at me skeptically but at least didn’t seem to be beating herself up over it any longer.

“Yep.”

“That can’t be good for you.” She scowled.

“I’m sure it’s not,” I agreed. “I try not to play that game too much, but I did it a lot in high school for wrestling. We did nothing but drink water and eat laxatives until we puked to drop some weight before a match.”

“That’s kind of sick,” Tria said.

I shrugged. I couldn’t argue with her. It was sick. I wouldn’t go to those extremes now, but at the time, it was pretty common. I quickly changed the subject before too much of my ancient history was discussed.

“So what classes do you have today?” I asked.

“Microeconomics, statistics, and English,” Tria responded. “Mondays and Fridays are my heavy days for classes. I only have two classes on the other days.”

“When does that bus pick you up?”

“It’s really just a van,” Tria replied as she started collecting the dishes and taking them to the sink. “It should be here in about fifteen minutes.”

I got up to help though I was so full I was more tempted to flop down on the couch and fall back to sleep. If anyone felt like a mooch at this point, it would have been me, so I dried and put dishes away as Tria washed them.

Once the kitchen was spotless again, Tria grabbed Medusa’s Moneybag and a couple of textbooks before heading out the door. I crawled out onto the fire escape to smoke while I watched her wait for the van from Hoffman College to pick her up.

Krazy Katie was already out there, of course, and she waved, too, as Tria boarded the dark red van with the Hoffman crest on the side of it and headed off. I was surprised at the gesture Krazy Katie had made, and I looked over to study her for a moment. Strangely enough, she looked back at me.

As soon as I made eye contact, she usually looked away, but this time, she held my gaze for about three seconds.

“You should f*ck her,” Krazy Katie said.

“Um…what?” I had to have heard her wrong.

“You should take off your clothes, and put your penis in her vagina,” Krazy Katie said. Her voice was rushed, and all the words strung together. “You should ejaculate in her, and then she’ll get pregnant, and you’ll have a little girl. You can love them, and then you won’t be so sad. It feels good, too.”

“What the f*ck are you talking about, you crazy bitch?” I asked. I didn’t think I had ever heard her say more than a couple of words to me, and to have her suddenly start spewing shit about f*cking and babies—it was too much.

Apparently, it was too much for Krazy Katie, too, because she curled up in the corner of the fire escape and didn’t say another word. That suited me just fine—I didn’t need her saying that shit. Tria was in school, for Christ’s sake—the last thing she needed was someone poking her fish and getting her pregnant.

I tossed the butt over the side and glared at Krazy Katie as I headed to my window.

“Don’t you say any shit like that to Tria,” I warned, as if it would make any difference. “She doesn’t need to hear any of your f*cking lunatic ranting, you hear me?”

She didn’t respond, of course.

I went back inside, shoved a few things into my gym bag, and shoved any thoughts of Krazy Katie’s f*cked up speech out of my head. I needed to get to the gym as early as possible. I hadn’t gone at all yesterday, and I wasn’t supposed to work out too much on fight days.

Part of my deal with Dordy included a membership to a pretty decent gym near downtown. I had to ride the bus to get there, but it only cost a dollar each way, and I only went twice a week. If money was tight for some reason, I’d walk it, but I would be pretty wiped out before I got home.