5.A New Offer

Erick stepped out of his mother’s hospital room and closed the door behind him with a soft click. The steady beep of the monitor still pulsed in his ears as he lingered in the dim hallway, his shoulders brushing the chipped paint on the wall.

He’d promised her. Promised that one day, they’d be free from basements and overdue bills and stale hospital air. But the promise felt heavier every time he looked at the numbers Dr. Rahman quietly scribbled onto the prescription sheets.

Erick ran a hand through his hair, exhaling, ready to head for the stairwell when a calm voice broke the corridor’s hush.

“Mr. Wrenfield?”

Erick’s head snapped toward the voice. A man he didn’t know leaned against the far wall near the exit sign, the glow flickering red across a sharp suit that didn’t belong anywhere near this rundown ward. His coat collar was turned up just enough to shadow part of his face.

Erick squared his shoulders but didn’t move closer. “Who’s asking?”

The stranger pushed off the wall, footsteps quiet on the scuffed linoleum. “Someone who’s been watching you. Or rather — someone who’s very interested in you.”

Erick’s jaw flexed. “If you’re from the fight organizers, tell them I don’t take bribes. If you’re from the bar, tell them I’m done cleaning up other people’s filth.”

A soft chuckle that didn’t reach the man’s eyes. “I’m not from the bar. Or the ring. I’m from the man upstairs.”

The words hung in the stale air between them. Erick didn’t have to ask which man. He could still feel the weight of that cold stare in the ring — the figure in the VIP box, perfectly still while the crowd roared around him. The one Erick had spat defiance at with a single finger and a bloody grin.

“I’m not interested,” Erick said flatly. His knuckles still ached as if to remind him how he’d won that fight — and whom he’d provoked.

“You should be.” The stranger’s eyes flicked to the hospital door Erick had just come through. “He noticed your loyalty. He respects it. And he doesn’t make a habit of respecting many people.”

“Save the flattery,” Erick shot back. “If he wants an apology for the finger, he won’t get it.”

“An apology?” The man almost smiled — almost. “No. He wants a meeting. An offer, if you have the backbone to hear it.”

Erick’s laugh was harsh and low. “Doesn’t he have a dozen street dogs who’d crawl on their knees for scraps? Why me?”

The stranger tilted his head slightly, studying him like a hawk sizing up a stray. “Because you’re useful. Loyal. And not easy to break.” He paused, then added, voice quieter: “He thinks you’re wasted in a back-alley ring and a bar that sells your pride for cheap whiskey. He wants to change that.”

A chill crept down Erick’s spine. He thought of his mother’s weak hands clutching his sleeve earlier. Of Dr. Rahman’s cautious sigh when he’d seen the bruises on Erick’s ribs. Of the promise that felt like a noose around his neck.

“And if I don’t?” Erick asked, voice steady.

The stranger shrugged. “Then you keep bleeding for scraps until there’s nothing left of you but regrets. Or you take a risk. You step into a bigger world — where your fists can do more than bruise drunks and thugs. Where your name might actually mean something again.”

He stepped closer and pressed a black card into Erick’s palm. Unmarked except for an address written in a sharp, silvery hand.

“Tomorrow. Midnight. Go there. Or don’t.” The stranger’s gaze dipped once more to the closed hospital door. “But you know which choice buys your mother more time.”

Before Erick could fire back, the man turned and melted into the stairwell shadows, coat brushing the peeling paint as if the hospital walls weren’t grimy enough to touch him.

Erick stared after him, then down at the card. The silver letters gleamed like cold teeth under the flickering exit sign. He turned it over once, twice. No name. No logo. Just an address that smelled like trouble. Or salvation. Or both.

He tucked it into his pocket. For his mother. For his father rotting behind bars for a crime he didn’t commit. For every promise he wasn’t ready to break yet.

“Fine,” he murmured into the empty hall. “Let’s see how deep this goes.”

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