GRAYSON

 

“She’s going on a date and you’re cool with that?” Tommy looks at his friend as if he’d just grown two heads.

 

“Do I look like I’m okay with that, Tommy?” Grayson’s expression at that moment is telling everyone between him and the punching bag to get out of his way. He needs to pummel something and imagine it’s the head of whatever doctor has got his claws into Adriana.

 

“So why did you let her go?” Tommy doesn’t read between the lines enough to see that Grayson doesn’t want to be asked any more questions.

 

“Because I don’t have any claim on her, slick. That’s why.” Grayson battles to keep his anger under control as he starts laying into the punching bag, taking out all his frustrations on the inanimate object.

 

“You’re Grayson ‘The Punisher’ Fletcher! You can make women do whatever the fuck you want!” Tommy looks at him in confusion.

 

“It’s not like that with Adriana, Tommy. She’s not just some bimbo MMA-hanger on. She’s…different.” Grayson leans against the bag, enjoying the feel of the burning in his muscles, but it hasn’t done anything to temper the jealousy running though his blood at the thought of Adriana with another guy.

 

“Oh man, you’re in trouble!” Tommy shakes his head in amazement. “You’re totally into this girl! Why don’t you do something about it?”

 

“It’s not as simple as that, Tommy!” Grayson’s famous lack of patience is wearing thin.

 

“So, you don’t like her?” He levels an unblinking look at Grayson, ignoring the storm clouds in his friend’s face. Grayson remains silent. “So, you do like her, but you don’t have the balls to do anything about it!”

 

“She’s coming to the Royale party.” The words serve as a sort of balm on Graham’s damaged heart. He’d have her to himself for a night. Yeah, right, to himself along with three hundred other people.

 

“So, you asked her out.” Tommy’s expression shows just how little sense this all makes. Grayson’s not unaware of the fact that his behavior around Adriana defies convention. The Adriana Effect.

 

“As a friend.” Grayson lets off another volley of punches onto the bag.

 

“You’re not friends with girls like that. No one is friends with a girl like that!” Tommy throws his hands up in despair at Grayson. “And you don’t spend time with a girl if it’s not in bed!”

 

“Like I said, Adriana’s different.” Grayson leaves out the fact that she’s the only thing in his life that has made sense from the first moment, that she’s haunted his dreams for almost a decade, and that the only time he feels right is when he’s with her.

 

“Cut it out, Tommy. Unless you want to be the next thing that Grayson is beating the crap out of.” The warning in West’s voice is enough to shut Tommy’s trap. “Now go and do some laps.”

 

“How many?” Tommy sounds like a sullen adolescent told to go do his chores.

 

“I’ll let you know.” West’s response is flat and totally unimpressed. Only when Tommy starts running around the immense gym does he approach Grayson.

 

“I can hear you thinking, coach. Something on your mind?” He grunts as he does a one, two punch on the sandbag, followed by a roundhouse kick.

 

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” West gives him a serious look.

 

“Don’t you start too, West.” Grayson takes a swig from his water bottle, before dropping to the floor and doing press-ups as if the fate of the civilized world depended on him completing his set. “You’re the one who persuaded Adriana to come to the fight. I thought you’d be happy!”

 

“That’s not what I’m talking about. The only thing I will say about that girl is that she’s good for you, but that’s all.” West gestures as if to draw a line under what he’s just said. “What I’m concerned about is the fact that you’ve been pricklier than a bear with a pineapple stuck up its ass since the fight. You mind filling me in on why?”

 

Grayson reaches one hundred and gets up from the ground, using his top to wipe the sweat off of his forehead and chest. “It’s nothing, just some empty threat from Morrison, that’s all.”

 

Grayson can almost feel the air between them still as West processes what he’s just been told. “Morrison doesn’t make empty threats. What happened?”

 

“He wants me to throw the next fight.” It’s only when the words are out of his mouth that Grayson realizes the effort he’s been making to keep it all inside. It’s a relief to tell someone.

 

“Fucking piece of shit!” West’s voice rings out through the gym, and everyone stops what they’re doing. He lifts his head and looks around. “Take an hour for lunch. Go on! Get the hell out of here!” He’s bellowing as the aspiring fighters scramble to get out of the door. They’ve seen West frustrated, and they’ve seen him be hard on them, but this time he was seriously mad.

 

“Feel better now?” Grayson raises an eyebrow at his coach and mentor, trying to make light of the situation.

 

“It’s not fucking funny, Gray. If the UFC gets a whiff that you’re being blackmailed, even if you don’t act on it, then you’re suspended. Say goodbye to the title, the sponsorships, everything we’ve worked for all these years.” West sits down heavily on the bench, looking as defeated as Grayson has ever seen him.

 

“You think I don’t know that, West?” Grayson takes a few deep breaths to try to calm down. Taking his frustration out on West isn’t going to solve anything. “I’m going to deal with it, just trust me.”

 

“How?” West gives him a suspicious look.

 

“I’m going to let Morrison know that he doesn’t have any hold over me anymore. He doesn’t have any bargaining chips left.” Grayson shrugs his shoulders as if it’s just that simple.

 

“And if he goes to the Association with what he knows?” West looks around despite there not being anyone within earshot and drops his voice. “About what happened at your first fight?”

 

Grayson’s entire body goes cold, just like it does every time he focuses on the memory of that night. “It was a long time ago, and Morrison has a lot to lose too by going public. Besides, not many people are going to believe a bookie who’s been in and out of jail more times than Lindsey Lohan. I’m calling his bluff, West. I’ve been letting him lead me around for too long. Things are different now. I’m not just some nobody fighter that no one gives a shit about anymore. The next fight is for the state title; this is the big leagues now.” His voice is calm and measured, but he can’t quite hold back the anger that overwhelms him whenever he thinks about Morrison.

 

“I hope you’re right, Grayson. I hope you’re right.” West rubs a hand over his bald head in his time-honored gesture of frustration. Grayson doesn’t add that he hopes so too.

 

He’d made his decision to tell Adriana the truth, to tell her all of it. He’d wanted to tell her the night of the fight, but things hadn’t exactly gone to plan. Then, he’d wanted to tell her this morning, but her confession of her date had thrown him for a loop. If he wanted to prove to her that he’d changed, that he didn’t want to have any secrets from her, then he had to tell it all. After the party, that’s when he would do it, when they could be alone, without any interruptions. He would explain everything once and for all, what had happened that night ten years ago, his involvement with Morrison, and everything that he’d done to get himself to where he was now. She would understand. Out of everyone, she would understand. She had to.