“Wow. I have to say, I never thought you’d give it up, especially after all the work you did on it.”
“It was just a van, Ally wouldn’t be walking now if I’d been all sentimental about it.” Callum let that sink in for a few moments before elaborating. “I was the one who found the program that taught her how to walk. After what happened, it became really important that she had something positive in her life. Small price to pay.”
“She told me about that,” Jack said, clearly surprised. “But she didn’t say anything about you selling the van to pay for it.”
“That’s because we told her Tom paid for it.”
He could see the mention of Tom’s name struck a nerve, although Jack took a swift drink to try and hide the fact.
“We thought she’d take it better coming from Tom, but really, we each paid half. I told her that I sold the van because it wasn’t practical anymore, which was true – it was too high for her to transfer in and out by herself, so I had to lift her. She never said as much, but I knew she hated that. It made sense to get a car because it was more accessible.”
“I didn’t realise,” Jack mumbled.
“Well, four years is a lot of stuff to miss.”
Jack stared at the bottle resting on his thigh. “Look, I’m really sorry you got caught up in this. But thanks – for letting me crash here.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Callum leaned forward. “First, I want you to tell me what the hell’s going on.”
Jack nodded cautiously. “That was the deal.”
Callum placed his beer bottle on the coffee table between them and sat back in the armchair. “So, spill the beans – and I mean the truth – all of it, no bullshit fence-sitting. I think we’ve gone way beyond that now.”
Jack placed his bottle on the table, too. He sat forward, staring at his hands, grasped so tightly together his knuckles glowed white. “I got involved in some stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
Jack fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable. “Fighting.”
“What kind of fighting?” Callum hoped he wasn’t going to have to draw whatever this was out of him, one painful word at a time.
“The kind where large sums of money are involved.”
“Underground fighting? Like cage fighting or something?”
“Something like that.”
Callum whistled softly. “Well, that explains a lot.”
It was Jack’s turn to frown.
“The thing with Andy,” he clarified.
“Yeah. I guess.”
“I’ve never seen you fight like that – ever.”
“Learnt a few new tricks.”
“No shit,” Callum eyeballed him over the coffee table as Jack massaged his knuckles absent-mindedly. “So how does the big guy I saw at your place fit into all this?”
Jack seemed to disappear into himself and Callum waited until he found his way back, curiosity giving him uncharacteristic patience.
“The night you called me, when Dad died,” Jack began carefully, “I was supposed to fight this guy. Ben – my manager, I guess you’d call him – he had money on it. He said he was setting me up for something bigger, but I had to throw this fight for it to all work out.”
“I’m with you so far.”
“But I didn’t,” Jack ran his hand through his hair, frowning. “I was distracted, and I kinda got carried away. I didn’t go down when I was supposed to. I took him out instead.”
“Shit.”
“I was pretty sure I burnt my bridges as far as Ben was concerned, so I took off, came back here.”
“Shit.”
If Jack was worried about this, it was serious. Serious enough for this guy to track him back here. Serious enough for Jack to crash at his place without putting up too much of a fight.
“I honestly didn’t think he’d find me. I never would have come back here if I thought there was even a snowball’s chance in hell that he could.”
“Yeah,” Callum rubbed a hand down his face, thinking. “Shit.”
“You can stop saying that anytime now,” Jack snapped.
“Sorry.”
Jack took a deep breath and released it slowly, sinking back into the chair.
“How do you think he found you?” Callum asked.
“No idea. He only had my cell number – I’m pretty sure he didn’t even know where I lived. Although he obviously knew more about me than I thought, or he wouldn’t be here.”
“So what makes you think it’s this Ben guy anyway?”
“It won’t be Ben himself, he doesn’t like to get his hands dirty,” he huffed. “He doesn’t need to, he’s got a posse at his disposal.”
Callum eyeballed him from across the table. He looked exhausted and Callum couldn’t help but feel for him. Putting that aside for the moment, his curiosity got the better of him. “How in the hell did you end up in the underground boxing circuit?”
Jack sighed wearily. “Long story.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”