Mee Noi led him out of the arena, through a self-described “short cut” that opened up into an alley, scrupulously clean because alleys in Bangkok didn’t seem to come in the dirty and smelly variety, which was a blessing, but it was also dark as hell, away from the brilliant neon that lit most of the streets.
The door closed, heavy and solid, behind them, cutting off sound like a knife. The alley was almost painfully quiet after the roar of the stadium. Several other metal doors lead from the building to dump in the alley. Mee Noi, quick and leading the way, was cut off from Beau as another set of doors smashed open. Three of the fighters Beau had seen earlier that evening spilled into the alley, joking loudly with each other, the tonal Thai rolling off their tongues like music.
Beau hurr
