The walk back to the room is silent. I feel like a zombie, sleepwalking my way to the elevator doors without taking much in. I'd been hoping to watch some of the other fighters tonight, but the second I stepped out of the ring, Jenson told Jeremiah to get me out of there.
He vibrates with anger beside me. We step into the elevator, where he stares straight ahead, but I know it's not me he's angry at, it's himself. He only looks at me once we make it to my room. His eyes trace my face, starting at my pounding eye and nose before ending at my lips. "Shit."
"I won," I say, my voice sounding raspy. My throat feels like sandpaper. "Aren't you going to congratulate me?"
"Congratulations," he says. "You look like something out of a horror movie."
"You mentioned that getting hit was part of fi
