“Because this can only go one of two ways,” I said. “If you manage to beat us, it’s all caught on camera. You’ll go to jail. Imagine the headline: ‘ex-MMA fighter beats up bar owners.’ Doesn’t sound very appealing, does it?”
Cole thought for a second. His lip curled in disgust.
“You’d get arrested for sure,” I went on. “On top of that, you’ll be mocked and ridiculed. Your whole legacy would be reduced to one thing: a rage-fueled asshole who couldn’t stop hitting people, outside the ring.”
“Octagon,” Cole grunted.
“What?”
“It’s an octagon, not a ring.”
“Whatever,” I waved him off. “The point here is, any shot at your redemption arc would be over, instantly. You already ruined your career, pounding on some unconscious opponent after the referee tried pulling you off. That’s also why someone took out your knee later on. Revenge.”
His look of utter disbelief was worth whatever might’ve happened next. The last thing he’d expected was for me to have done my homework. I’d gone back, and watched the videos. I’d seen the interviews.
“The other outcome is that we kickyourass,” I continued, smoothly. “That’s even worse, for you. Just picturethatheadline: Ex-MMA fighter gets his ass kicked in local bar. The video would be hilarious, too. It would get millions of hits.”
“Video?” he growled again.
I pointed upward; at the dusty camera. Cole frowned, and I saw the fight go out of him.
“I guess it’s your move,” Bodie shrugged. “But make it fast. I have places to be, and this is all very boring.”
He sat back down. He even turned his back to our adversary, which set my nerves on edge.
Luckily, it was already over.
“This isn’t over,” Cole spat, in an almost comical defiance of my last thought. He paced the bar, left to right, looking in every direction at once. I didn’t particularly like the way his eyes lingered on certain things; the certificate of occupancy, our liquor license, and various other framed items that hung on The Refuge’s walls.
Eventually he smiled — evilly, I might add — and stormed through the door without another word.
“Heh…” Grizz grunted, from his corner seat. “Those cameras went up thirty-something years ago! Your father helped his uncle set them up, after a couple of break-ins.”
I looked at Grizz. There were so many things I didn’t know. So many unknowns my father had left me with, when the cancer abruptly took him. My grand uncle had left just as many, not long before.
“That big brickhasto know that, right?” Grizz cackled, hoisting his empty glass.
I shrugged, took his glass behind the bar, and began refilling it.
“Who knows?” I sighed wearily. “But he’s definitely not splitting the atom anytime soon.”
~ 20 ~
HAYDEN
“You’re ten minutes late,” Monica chimed, as I slipped through the shelter’s back door. A chorus of meows picked up from the cat wall. Three of the felines began rubbing themselves against their cage doors.
“Oh yeah?” I smiled wearily. “Fire me.”
Monica looked down at her outstretched hand and laughed. “I would if I could,” she joked, picking at a broken nail. ‘But you volunteer.”
“Exactly,” I declared. “And that comes with big-time perks. One of them, is being able to sleep in my car on lunch break.”
Catching up on sleep during the work day wasn’t something I normally did, especially not here. Then again, I hadn’t exactly had a normal weekend.
“Yeah, well you left a couple of the cages unlatched,” Monica lamented. “Thor and Maverick got out.”
I froze in the middle of my walk, halfway across the room. “Shit.”
