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“Uh yeah. Not bad, thanks, Bryce,” I said as I did the same to Hopkins. “Good to see you, Heather.”

“Saw your match the other week,” Bryce told me eagerly. “When the Horseman’s Steed teamed up with the Rolling Rimmer to take you down. Man, I wanted to knock his block off for double-crossing you like that.”

It’s scripted, Bryce.

I managed a chuckle, shrugging. “Made for a good show though, right?”

“Oh yeah, fucking fantastic. I was on the edge of my seat,” Heather said. “But I hope you and the Steed make up soon. I love your usual entrance, riding down the walkway on a unicorn. It’s not the same without it.”

“Pretty entertaining to see a unicorn on roller skates though,” Bryce piped up, leaning back in a chair and kicking his feet up onto the table.

I huffed in amusement. Since Chris—who was known to fans as the Horseman’s Steed—had ‘double-crossed’ me and teamed up with Vince, I’d been walking in my arena entrance instead of riding on his back like I usually did. And because Chris was now, temporarily, teamed up with the Rolling Rimmer, he’d been skating down the walkway. As a unicorn. In roller skates.

Holt had tried to stop him, terrified of what would happen to his insurance premiums if Chris broke a leg on Goliaths property, but Chris had insisted. The crowd loved it.

“So, buddy,” Heather asked cheerfully as she sat beside Bryce and gestured at the chair on the other side of the table. “What can we do for you?”

I sat down and cleared my throat, lacing my fingers together on the table. “Well, I was wondering… have you ever had any run-ins with Frank and Beans?”

Bryce’s brows shot up, before he smoothed out his expression and crossed his arms, watching me appraisingly. “Why’s that?”

“They’ve stopped performing at Goliaths, is that right?” Heather asked, giving me the same look as she sat forward, leaning her forearms on the table. “Very recently, in fact.”

I didn’t want to go into the whole thing, so I tried to sum it up as succinctly as possible. “They kept stealing my head, so Holt was about to fire them, but they vanished.”

“I see.” Heather drummed her fingers on the table, then glanced at Bryce and shrugged after a few seconds. “We’ve responded to a few noise complaints at their residence, but nothing major.”

“They kept stealing your head?” Bryce asked with a frown. “We could book them for assault if you file an official report.”

“No, I don’t care about that.” I shook my head quickly. “But I was wondering… if you could give me their address.”

Bryce and Heather shared a long look.

“You know, it’s technically our duty to tell you that vigilante justice is never a good idea, bud,” Bryce said, sounding like he didn’t really mean it.

“It’s not about the head thing,” I said impatiently, scrubbing a hand down my face. “It’s… I just want to talk to them.”

It was clear neither of them believed me.

“You know we can’t give you their address, Dan,” Heather said blankly.

“Look.” I leaned in and lowered my voice. “I know officially you can’t, but they hurt my… friend. I just want to talk to them. Make sure they apologise.”

“They assaulted your friend?” Bryce asked. “So just have him come in and file a report. We’ll arrest them.”

I gritted my teeth. No. This was something I wanted to do.

Needed to do. For Rafe.

“He won’t,” I told them. “He’s saying it’s fine and isn’t a big deal.”

Bryce and Heather glanced at each other again, before Heather shrugged. “Well, if he won’t come in, there isn’t much we can do.”

“So give me their address.”

Bryce’s brow rose at my impatient tone, so I forced myself to take a breath and calm down. Try a different tack.

“We’ve got a weekend of cage matches coming up soon,” I said lightly. “Haven’t had one for a while. Should be pretty good.”