Grace for Drowning

"Jesus, what an asshole," I said. I couldn't believe someone would go to those lengths to get their way. "How long do you think he'll keep it up?"

"As long as it takes, probably. Charlie says he's as stubborn as they come. We won't know for sure until we book someone else."

"What are you going to do?"

Another sigh, deeper than the last one. "I don't know. Charlie doesn't use contracts, too small time for that, so it's not like we have any claim over these guys. They can sign if they want to." His nostrils flared and he slammed a fist down on the bar. "It's such a fucking joke. Task doesn't care about them. He's just using them. I doubt they even get one shot on a big card."

"Would it do any harm to at least look at the contract then? Maybe it's not as bad as you think."

He shook his head vehemently. "And abandon Charlie? No. No fucking way."

"I know it sounds like a scummy move, but think about it. If this guy really is willing to stop you fighting for as long as it takes, from Charlie's point of view, it's basically like you're already

gone. At least if you do sign, he'd stop having his other fighters poached for no good reason."

The way he averted his eyes told me that deep down he'd already realized the same thing. Which meant there was more to it than simple loyalty.

I slid up onto the bar next to him and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Would it really be so bad, fighting somewhere else?" I asked, as gently as possible.

"It's not the fighting that's the problem," he replied. "It's everything else. Photographers, journalists, fans, airports. I can't deal with any of that shit. I mean, can you honestly see me trapped in a tube in the sky with five hundred other people? It'd be murder at thirty five thousand feet."

I managed a half smile. "So, maybe you sit down with him and talk it over. Maybe there's a compromise in there somewhere."

His jaw clenched. "I don't want a compromise. I just want him to leave me the fuck alone."

"At dinner you mentioned the fact that you wished Charlie could find more opponents like Caesar. And now you've got a guy with a whole league of people that good. You can't have it both ways. Things can't change while also staying exactly the same."

"If those are my two options, then I'll pick staying exactly the same every single time."

It seemed like that was going to be the end of the conversation but, after a few seconds, his expression softened and he pulled my head in against his chest. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a dick. This is just stressing me out. Getting in that ring each month is what keeps me going. It's all I've got. If I lose that, I don't know what I'll do."

"It's not all you've got. You've got me," I replied.

There was a long pause. I looked up to find him staring down at me with an odd expression, like he was seeing me for the first time. Some of the tension had leaked from his muscles. He actually managed a hint of a smile.

"I do, don't I?" he said.

"I know how important this is to you," I replied. "We'll come up with something. It'll all work out. You'll see."

"I hope you're right."

We stood like that for a minute or so. "What you said before, is that really what you want?" I asked. "For nothing to ever change?"

He didn't seem sure how to answer. "It took me so long to put all my pieces back together into something that vaguely resembles a life," he said eventually, "and I know it's only going to take the tiniest gust of wind to make it all collapse again. I can't take that risk. What I want doesn't even factor into it."

It felt like an impossibly sad thing to say, but I didn't know how to argue with that. Logan had his problems but, considering the life he'd led and the things he'd seen, it was remarkable he was here at all. Who was I to question his methods?

Chapter Eighteen

Grace

Logan's tension eased a little in the coming days, but I knew the TPW stuff was still weighing heavily on him. I wracked my brain trying to come up with a solution. It was a world I knew so little about, but there had to be a way. Things were finally starting to look up, and I refused to let some greedy businessman ruin that for either of us.

In the meantime, I set about doing my best to cheer Logan up. I'd had a seed of an idea in my head for a while, ever since our failed attempt at going to dinner, and now seemed like the perfect time to put it into action.

After a few days of preparation, everything was ready. I had Logan meet me at an unobtrusive street corner on the outskirts of Henderson. He'd seemed quite bemused when I insisted that we each show up separately, but he went along with it.

He rocked up right on time wearing a pair of faded black chinos and a navy tee. I appreciated the effort he'd gone to with the collared shirt, and it definitely looked good on him, but the truth was I liked him looking a little rougher, and I'd told him as much. There was something masculine about it that just looked right on him.