“Yeah, I’m glad I ran into you. I needed the extra training.”
Mac “The Snake” Hannon had come into the professional MMA scene about three years ago, much later in life than most fighters, but just as impressive. His refusal to give interviews had given him a mysterious edge that had made the fans salivate. Despite the pressure from the media, all Mac wanted to do was fight and go home. And that was exactly what he did, only emerging from his apartment for training or a scheduled fight.
Because of his recluse-like tendencies, no one really knew much about him, other than he used to be a chef and he’d lost his wife before moving to Georgia and joining Mike’s gym. Even though he kept his distance, Mac was always supportive of his peers, and, occasionally, even cracked a smile.
“Got a fight on the horizon?” Tommy asked.
“Yeah, the end of March.”
“Ah.” Tommy worked his neck. “That’s the middleweight bout, isn’t it?’
Mac grimaced. “Yeah, Moon’s defending the belt against Dolven.”
“Hope he does a better job than I did at defending it.”
His friend studied him for a minute. “You could always win it back for yourself, Tommy. Shut up all the naysayers calling you a fraud.”
“Really? A fraud?”
“You expect anything less with some of the crap you pulled? Those of us at the facility knew how good you were, how great you could be.” He shrugged. “You chose a different path. Those on the outside think you only won the title out of sheer luck, and that’s why you lost it so quickly.”
“Fuck that. I busted ass for that title.”
“You didn’t bust ass to keep it, though.”
Tommy ground his teeth. No. He hadn’t.
“I’m just saying,” Mac continued. “Maybe you need to get out there and show them where they can shove their opinions.”
“And how am I supposed to do that? Mike has barred me from the gym and Ethan won’t let me near a cage. I punched his son…in the face. I broke his nose.”
“Yeah, you did. And so did Pete Randolph Saturday night in Montreal.”
Tommy’s brows shot up. “Holy shit.” Pete Randolph was a newer fighter in the light heavyweight division. He only had two professional fights under his belt. “How quickly did he get shafted?”
“He didn’t. In fact, Ethan banned Junior.”
Tommy blinked. “Are you kidding? Why?”
“He came on to Pete’s wife hardcore. A lot of people witnessed what happened. A few more fighters came forward, saying they’d had some issue with the jackass. Ethan confronted his son, threatened to cut him off completely if he didn’t tell him everything.” Mac scrunched his face.
“Word’s spread, Tommy. We know what happened with Julie and what he said to you afterward.
Why didn’t you speak up?”
“What would have been the point? I’d been screwing off bad before that even happened. Just a couple of hours before, I’d lost the belt in a pathetic showing in the cage. Mike was already livid.
Ethan had already gotten in my face and threatened my contract. Once I threw the punch, my fate was sealed.”
“Well. I think Mike would be more willing to listen to you now.”
Tommy sighed. “I’ve been planning on talking to Mike—I owe the man an apology. I guess there’s a part of me that’s ashamed, so it’s hard to face him. If there is a slim chance that he’d actually take me back into the fold, I’d prefer to face him in tip-top shape.” Tommy sent his friend a pointed look.
Mac’s eyes narrowed. “Proceed.”
“What do you think about having a training partner? You’ll get in some extra training for your fight and I’ll get in some practice with a live person. I haven’t grappled in months.”
After a moment of hesitation, Mac nodded. “Sounds like a fair deal. How about the same time tomorrow? Plan for three hours?”
Tension whooshed out of him. With Mac, the answer could’ve gone either way. “Sounds great.
We can do it over at Julie’s. She’s got a big backyard. I’ll buy a mat and some gear tonight.”
“Julie’s? Why not your place?”
“We’re living together now,” he muttered, distracted by making a mental list of stuff he needed to buy.
When Mac clamped him real hard on the shoulder, he almost face-planted on the ground.
“Congrats, man! It’s about damn time. I was wondering when you’d come to your senses and snatch that woman up.”
What was he—? Oh, shit…
“Uh…no, it’s not what you think. My house burned down. Lost everything. I’m staying with her until I can get resettled.”
A grimace crossed his friend’s face. “I’m real sorry to hear that. But I’m even sorrier to hear you’re still as dumb as a pile of rocks.”
“What the fuck, man?” Jeez, Mac had a reputation for being blunt, but damn.