Holy fucking shit! There are so many people here! My head is spinning. The event has the gym completely packed –every single one of the rooms are being used by one of the trainers for the free self-defense courses. The volunteers are running around like crazy selling merchandise, bringing people smoothies from the smoothie bar, and providing water. That’s just inside –the outside is a mad house! The parking lot is full of cars and carnival rides and bake stands and healthy food trucks.

There’s a presentation going on every half hour out on the lawn about the Battered Women’s Home. I have forty minutes to get ready for my little speech at the podium with Alex in front of this giant crowd to get the marathon itself started. I cannot believe how well this event is turning out. I’m standing at the gym’s entrance, clipboard in hand, spouting off orders to some of the volunteers. I’m starting to get a little winded when I see Brandi walking up towards me from the parking lot, pushing a baby stroller. I smile. “Jonathan, this is amazing!” she calls out to me, as she is walking up to stand beside me.

I smile. “Thanks, Brandi.”

“I can’t believe you put all of this together,” she says and gives me a kiss on the cheek. She embarrassingly looks down and says, “I owe you an apology. I can’t believe I’ve been giving you such a hard time about wanting you to quit this place –especially before an event like this. I swear, the entire city came out for this run!”

I smile. “Thanks, baby.”

Ambriel is finally off of her oxygen tube, but she still has the little monitor strapped to her foot; we got a portable one for her. “I’m so proud of you, Jonathan,” Brandi says, smiling; I can tell that she really means it.

“Thanks,” I say and bend down to kiss Ambriel on her forehead. “You should take her inside. It’s going to start getting pretty hot out soon. You can sit in on one of the self-defense classes and watch if you like. Both Marty and Tyler are inside teaching and their third class of the day is just getting started. They’ll be running the marathon, though, so you might want to try to catch them before it gets started if you want to say hi. Same with Marianna and Amy –they’re running too. Marianna’s teaching a class too along with the other fighters from the gym.”

“I’m so impressed, Jonathan, really,” Brandi says and pushes the stroller inside. “I’m going to grab me one of those smoothies everyone is raving about and then go say hi the guys.”

“Bobby is working with the volunteers behind the smoothie bar,” I say.

“I love him, you know that? He is so sweet. Not that I don’t love your other friends, but he’s got a heart of gold,” she says.

“You just think he’s a softie because he’s not a boxer. Keep in mind he’s a former DA. He’s got tougher skin than you’d think,” I say, mostly joking. Bobby really is a softie. He was the bozo who came up with the whole dressing up as Disney Prince’s for Mary’s birthday.

Speak of the devil. “Jonathan!” I hear two familiar voices call out just as Brandi is leaving me to head inside.

I smile. Gabe’s parents and his sister Mary came out for the event. “Well look who’s here!” I say excitedly, and Mary comes running up to me and jumps up into my arms.

“Hey, Jonathan!” she cries and gives me this big hug. “Mom and Dad said you did all of this by yourself!”

I laugh. “Not completely by myself, but I did a lot of it. I couldn’t have done it all without the volunteers. What are you guys doing here?”

“Well, we’re running the marathon,” Gabe’s father said. “Mary insisted that we do it together.”

I smile at Mary. “Oh, so you’re running too?” I notice she’s already got her number pinned to her shirt.

“Yup!” she says as I am putting her down.

“Well good for you!” I say, and I pat her on top of the head.

“Mom, can I get one of those smoothies?” she asks. Her mom laughs, gives me a hug, and follows her daughter inside. Gabe’s father shakes my hand and pats me on the back, telling me I did a good job at putting everything together before chasing after his wife and daughter.

I check my watch. I have time to do a walk around before the speech. I head inside, and my phone buzzes. I check it, and I have a weird text message that reads: What do you know? I don’t recognize the number, so I ignore it and don’t think much of it. I go check in on all the classes: Britany, LaWanda, Katie, Marty, Tyler, Marianna, and Laurel are all teaching classes, so I start doing my rounds. I can see Brandi and Bobby chatting by the smoothie booth, and Marty’s wife Amy is with them –wearing a volunteer shirt. I head up to the second floor where a lot of the classes are being taught and check in on each one. So far so good.

Laurel’s class is on the ground floor, so I head back down to check in on it just as it is letting out. She doesn’t seem me, and she bypasses me in the hall, heading straight for Brandi. She looks down at Ambriel, and soon the two women are wrapped in conversation about the baby. That makes me so uncomfortable, I don’t even know how to describe it. I check my watch, and I realize I need to get out to the small stage that is setup outside.

My phone goes off again on my way down there, and I roll my eyes. I check it, and I have a text that reads: What did you tell the police?

Okay, now I’m fucking nervous. What the fuck is this? I don’t have time to think about it, though. I see that Damion is standing in the front row, and he’s creepily eyeing Alex as the two of us make our way up onto the stage. I swear, everyone I know is here plus another several thousand people. This was way bigger than I could have ever imagined. There are news anchors posted along the edges of the crowd, their cameras pointed my way as I give a speech about the Battered Woman’s Home and how we are all here to raise money for them. I talk about the free training courses we are offering today to help our locals stay safer on the streets. People cheer and clap, and soon I have to step down to let Alex talk about the rules of the run.

I wind up being asked to do an interview with a station, so I accept. Caleb would have wanted me to. Once the interview is over, I start walking towards the starting line for the run with a microphone in hand. I’ll be announcing the start of the run once Alex is finished speaking. This is when I bump into fucking Donte. I run smack into him because he’s being a dumbass not watching where he’s going. I frown, and I see that he’s got his little thug buddies with him –they all have numbers pinned to their shirts, so I guess they came to do the marathon run. “Yo, Trial!” Donte says my name as though we are old friends.

I frown. “Not now, man,” I warn.

“Come on, I came to be supportive,” he says. “And to get my face on television, of course. You know you really started something with those comments you made about female boxers earlier this year, right? All the media wants to talk about is whether or not this sports guy or that sports guy is sexist or not. Got to make sure they see me running for the fundraiser to help out the ladies, right? You sure did make it easier for me to get some publicity this way. I volunteered at a Girl Scout thing last week, and people went nuts.”

I roll my eyes. “Good for you, Donte.”

“Yo, let’s see if we can’t get one of those anchors to interview us together. Bet that would really hype everyone up for our fight,” he says.

Is this guy serious? Literally every other time I’m talking to him he’s making crude remarks about Brandi, threatening me, fighting with me, or just generally being a dick. Does he really think I’m going to help him with a publicity stunt? “Maybe later, I’ve got to get this thing started,” I say and walk away from him in a hurry.

“Fine, whatever you say,” he says.

I make my way towards the startup line, and my phone goes off again. The text reads: Start talking, or else. What do you know? What did you tell the police?

I glance back at Donte, but he’s not on his phone. He’s chatting with his thug buddies and stretching his legs for the run. I text back: Fuck off, or I’ll call the cops. I grab the microphone, and I speak into it. “All right everyone! Let’s get this thing started!” the crowd cheers. I run through some last minute announcements, and I send the runners on their way. My phone buzzed four time during the announcements, and I roll my eyes.

I flip it out, ready to call the number to see what sort of dipshit I’m dealing with, and I see I have been sent three pictures and a text message. I hesitate opening them, but I do it anyways. My stomach drops. I see Tyler, Mary, and Laurel all tied up with duct tape over their mouths –their eyes wide in fear. I feel a panicky, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I read the last text message that had been sent to my phone: Are you ready to talk now?