The Boxers Daughter

Therapy and Strawberries

"Up. Down. Up. Down." Doc repeated from his shady seat next to the pool.

Doctor Smith, an MD from Hillcrow Memorial Hospital, was the only doctor we could call that wouldn't ask questions about the immediate medical attention that was needed. And by that, I mean he was a member of the Italian Mob.

It's been... seven days since the Fair. And I was currently doing physical therapy in the pool to make Ma and Pop happy. Doc put in water proof stitches so I didn't have to leave it covered all the time. He said it would heal quicker if I let it breathe.

If it were up to me, I would be in the training room at the club, beating the shit out of my favorite sand bag. But doctors orders.

More like Ma's orders, but you know what I mean.

That night of the shooting, Pop assigned guards for Cason and Blair. Cason tried to talk to me, but I was rushed into the kitchen when Doctor Smith arrived. He stitched me up, and before I could speak to Cason, they were gone. Blair handled it much better. She's used to things with her father being a client, but she was still stressed. I think she sobered up after she puked on a guards boots.

"Would you like a lemonade, or something to make you feel even more at home?" I asked Doc sarcastically. If I was being brutally honest, I hated this. I haven't been able to stop thinking about what Donovan said before he left, and the way I treated him after he saved my life. The worst part was I couldn't even use my punching bag to relieve all the pent up stress.

"No, thank you." Doc chuckled.

I turned and rolled my eyes. Then turned back and lifted my leg under the water.

I grimaced but pushed through the pain to do it again.

"Your father told me you broke your arm when you were six, and you took that worse than being shot in the leg." He stated.

"Well that's because I couldn't box with a broken arm." I grunted as I lifted my leg against the pressure of the water. "A bullet wound is just a hole in the skin and tissue- this one hadn't damaged any muscles- whilst a broken arm is an appendage snapped in half. Seeing as how skin- if not severely burned- and torn tissue heals approximately faster than bone combined with marrow. It really only takes about twenty odd days to accommodate a new layer of skin. So... which one of those injuries do you think would hinder my fighting abilities longest, Doc?"

He gave me a slow round of applause with an amused expression. "Someone has been paying attention to my lessons every now and then."

I was about to snap back with "I don't listen to a word you say, actually. You see, there're this thing called human anatomy class..."

But footsteps sounded inside and I stopped.

Both doors and curtains were pulled back, giving a clear view of who was inside. And when I saw Pop walking by, dressed in his usual dark suit, I rushed to the pool stairs. I limped up them awkwardly.

When I finally climbed out, I expected to see Donovan walk by. But I only saw more guards and then- Uncle Benny.

He was chatting with Bruce, who's face remained unimpressed. He walked past the open doors, following Pop. I wasn't in the mood to run after him and hug him, maybe later.

It's been a week and Donovan hasn't come for his check ups. I knew it wasn't because of me, I mean he doesn't give a damn what I say. I'm sure he just got caught up in more important business.

"What are you doing? You still had five whole minutes." Doc stood, looking down at his watch.

I grabbed a towel from the pile by the patio doors, and started inside. "Lesson's over." I called over my shoulder.