“She’s not happy because some of it’s gray,” Mollie explains.
“Well, it’s better than nothing.”
“She says I can’t have her wigs. When she grows it back. I mean, when she gets hair, she doesn’t need her wigs. And I can’t have them.”
“Maybe I’ll take them. I always wanted a bob cut.”
She giggles into the phone, and it’s the very giggle that would get me through my darker days. Mollie reminds me that life moves on after all the shit that happened when I left the fighting scene.
“No, hey!” Mollie yells, and I hear the shriek of a young child.
“Sorry. I told her not to talk about my hair,” Sarah mumbles.
“That’s awesome you’re growing it back.”
“Still owe a stupid amount of debt—which you don’t have to take care of,” she corrects.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m working on it.”
“I already told you I’m not taking your Warlord money. I can’t let you get punched until you’re bloody just to pay my bills. Warlord ends people’s career, Joey. It’s fun as hell, but it’s also a nasty competition for the fighters. And I know you’d make it far, which means you’re going to have to be extremely lucky not to need six months of recovery, at the minimum.”
“Too bad. A bankruptcy would suck the life out of you and Connor. I won’t let you survive the shit you’ve been through, only to be a slave to debt.”
Deep inside, a part of my subconscious immediately thinks about Julie as I say that.
“We’ll talk about it later—” she sighs into the phone. “Anyway, I hope you’re doing alright.”
My mind resurfaces the fleeting thoughts of my sports therapist, hesitating as I consider getting Sarah’s advice or just bringing up the fact that there’s this new girl in my life that’s caught my interest. But I push past it, as I can’t admit it’s mysports therapist.
We’ve been down that chaotic fucking road before.
I also don’t need to get Sarah’s hopes up that I might actually like a girl, especially when everything surrounding Julie and me is so volatile.
It’s just really fucking good sexual chemistry. That happens a lot in this industry. Where else are we going to meet people we’re interested in? If it was just me getting back into the scene, I might not care as much… but this isWarlord. The stakes are as high as they’ll ever be.
So, I settle on, “I’m alright.”
“Well, good luck, Joey. Go punch some dudes in the face for me. I could use a punching bag myself.”
I laugh. “Maybe we’ll get you one.”
“Man, the last thing I need is for Mollie to take up MMA fighting, because you know she’d be punching it the day we got it. She’s already wanting to watch you and practices her kicks when she can.”
“Hey, I told you to get her into martial arts. That shit is adorable with all those kids trying to kick each other... anyway, I gotta get back to it,” I say, spotting Andrew’s car pull into the parking lot. “Love you, guys.”
“We love you too, Joey.”
I hang up, my family at the forefront of my mind.
Once they’re taken care of, then I can focus on myself.
Only when I glance over to see Julie pull into the parking lot in her Subaru, I faintly narrow my gaze as she gets out. I always think all of that responsible shit, but then fall right back into the habit of wanting to watch her. To touch her. To make her head spin so fast that she forgets how to form sentences.
She nears me, a brown paper bag in hand—no doubt from wherever she went for lunch. “How’s it going, shithead?”
I hold my arms out. “What the fuck?”
“You promised me twenty in the sauna!” She flashes me an elegant grin.
