“Thanks. I almost didn’t show up. I really thought I was going to die, I’ve heard the rumors.”
“Trying to keep the killing to a minimum,” I chuckle.
“I’m glad for that,” he snorts.
“If you’re ever looking for work, we could use security upstairs,” I say as we walk towards the rooms designated for fighters. They have a locker room for all the others, I get my own because I’m special.
“I might take you up on that offer,” he shakes my hand and I leave him to go change.
“Good fight,” Tim states as I step into my room. He’s lucky I don’t have my gun or I would have pulled it.
“You can’t do that,” I snap at him, “I could kill you.”
“Sorry. I thought you would figure I was waiting for you,” he apologizes.
“It’s fine. I told that guy to contact us if he wants security work. He would be good at it,” I inform him.
“I agree. It wasn’t a bloodbath so you must be trying to turn over a new leaf. Not sure how I feel about that just yet.”
“You said yourself that I should move on. This is me trying to move on, separate what I love, fighting, from work, torture.”
“I see your point,” he taps his chin.
“We getting a drink after I change?”
“Yeah. And you were right, I found a girl to fuck my attitude or whatever out of me,” he snickers as I step into the bathroom to shower.
“Knew you’d bounce back,” I laugh.
“And your father will arrive in the morning,” he announces. I’m sure I have a text from my father, but I’ve been busy.
“Good. We can figure out all this shit,” I mutter.
“I agree. You almost done?” He asks just as I turn off the shower and dry off before stepping out and putting my suit back on. I am a big guy but I do look good in the suit.
“You wearing a suit tomorrow?”
“I’m sure when he arrives we will be having breakfast and I’ll be in my pajamas. I might put one on later. You can’t expect me to change overnight,” I laugh.
“Good point. Better be a good breakfast,” he mutters.
“I might be doing it alone if you take someone home with you,” I point out to him.
“I think I might just bend her over my desk here and get it out of my system,” he responds.
“Wow, such a gentleman,” I retort with a roll of my eyes.
“I try,” he straightens his tie like he’s on GQ magazine and we head to the bar, ordering two vodkas on the rocks. Signature drink for me.
“How do you think he will handle all of this?”
“I don’t know. I’m not my father. But your dad will have a lot to answer for,” I inform him.
“He should. He’s going through all the girls and not paying. There are no comps. But the fact that he was out of the area when Rodion got shot and not answering his phone even bothers me and I have questionable morals myself,” he says.
“Yeah, I agree with that. Loyalty is everything, not saying he sold us out. But at the same time, he has responsibilities,” I reply.
“I agree. I’m kind of in awe of you right now, being the good son, taking responsibility. Not killing anyone in the ring. Good for you,” he chortles.
