I Died For Their Sick Game

To pull together the two hundred thousand dollars my parents needed for their medical bills, I signed up to fight the reigning champion of an underground cage match.

When I climbed into the ring, the blinding halogen lights raked across the VIP mezzanine—and caught a table of intimately familiar faces.

My father, who was supposed to be clinging to life on a ventilator in an intensive care unit, sat back against leather cushions, his cheeks flushed with vigorous health.

"Shane said the wire should clear by ten tonight," he said, checking his gold Rolex with an easy chuckle.