GRAYSON

 

“It’s not as simple as just throwing the fight, Grayson.” West clearly has no intention of letting this go, his dogged line of argument hasn’t changed since the start of the conversation.

 

“I came here for help, West, not for a lecture.” Grayson delivers a roundhouse kick at the punching bag, as he feels his nervous energy running away from him. He has to keep focused, for Adriana. “I have to do whatever Morrison wants.” He says the words dully, hating them as they come out of his mouth.

 

“Well, Morrison didn’t want you to tell anyone about this, so I’m guessing you’re not quite his little puppet yet.” Tommy shakes his head, as if he’s disappointed in Grayson, the man he’s always looked up to like a hero.

 

“Tommy, you’ve never been in love. Come back to me when you know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Grayson waves his friend’s comment away, but that doesn’t make it sting any less.

 

“Cool it! Both of you!” West uses his best coach’s voice to cut through the animosity between the two men. It’s only when he’s happy that they’ve both stood down that he continues. “I’m not trying to lecture you, Grayson, but we’re not talking about some little underground fight back in Philly.” West’s expression is hard, as he tries to make his protégé understand what he can see so clearly. “It’s not just about making the fight look real to the judges, to the crowd, and to the cameras. We’re not just talking about the potential of someone outside of the three of us finding out about this and ending your career. That’s not what the big risk is here.” He levels a look at Grayson, making it clear that Grayson knows very well what it is that West is talking about.

 

“You’re talking about Dexter, about what he does in the ring.” Grayson nods in understanding. He had been so crazy over what Morrison had done, using Adriana as a bargaining chip, worrying about what she might be going through, that he hadn’t even taken his opponent in the ring into account.

 

“He doesn’t go easy on the other guy.” Tommy nods his head in agreement at West’s words.

 

“I don’t care. I’ll take whatever he throws at me.” Grayson’s voice is grim determination personified.

 

“Doesn’t go easy?” West lifts an eyebrow, highlighting the understatement in Tommy’s comment. “Dexter has put the last three guys he’s fought in the hospital. One of them is still in a coma, and his wife is facing the very real probability that if he ever does wake up he’ll be about as conscious as a stick of celery. The other two guys aren’t likely to ever fight again.”

 

“It doesn’t matter.” Grayson starts to shake his head, not wanting to hear all this again, but West has no intention of giving up that easily.

 

“It doesn’t matter if you end up a vegetable by letting Dexter win? Or that you can never fight again because one more blow to the head would result in permanent brain damage? Can you really look me in the eye and say that none of that is important?” West narrows his eyes at the man he looks upon as a son and holds his breath.

 

Tommy looks between the two men, probably wondering if he’s going to have to step in again to avoid a fight, something that he’s been doing a lot of recently. “G, think about this, Dexter doesn’t take any prisoners in the ring and, after the little pissing contest at the party last night, he’s going to go all out on you. You know that as well as I do. If you were fighting to win, it would be one thing, but if you’re fighting to lose, then that’s a whole different ballgame. Grayson, he could really hurt you—permanently.”

 

Grayson rakes his fingers through his hair. He had come to West for answers, but now all he has is more confusion. “I got Adriana into this mess; I have to get her out.” It’s the only thing that he can accept; he can’t let her get hurt because of his mistakes. He’s never let anyone fight his battles for him; he’s not about to start now.

 

“And do you think that’s what Adriana would want? That she would want you to give up everything, maybe even your life? Do you think that she would be able to live with herself, knowing that?” West rubs his temples to alleviate the headache that is probably hovering somewhere behind his right eye. “I don’t know her well, but I think I know her well enough to be able to say that girl wouldn’t want you to do this.”

 

“Good thing she doesn’t get a choice then.” Grayson smiles, but there’s no hint of humor in his eyes. There’s nothing remotely funny about this situation. He rubs his chest absently. Before he’d met Adriana, he had never thought that it was possible to miss someone so much that it actually created a physical ache. He’d felt it since that night ten years ago when he knew he could never see her again, not after what he had done and after what he had become. He’d managed to fool himself into thinking that the ache was gone, that it had disappeared, and that he’d forgotten about her and how she’d made him feel. However, all it had taken was one look that night in the club and he had felt everything all over again. In that moment, he had known that he would do anything for her and be whoever she needed him to be.

 

“G, you’re not thinking straight! Listen to what West is saying. There must be another way to get her back. We just need to think clearly and analyze this from every angle, like we would a fight.” Tommy’s earnestness is infectious, but Grayson will not allow himself hear what he’s saying.

 

Grayson’s ears are closed off, and he is settled on what he knows he has to do. “And while we’re sitting here debating this and throwing ideas at the goddam wall to see if any of them stick, what do you think Morrison is doing to Adriana? What do you think she’s going through every minute that we’re just fucking talking?”