“Give it a rest.” A tired and grumpy Leo arrived, visible through the obscured glass. “Grace, do you know what time it is?” He opened the door and nearly hung off the edge of it.
“I’m well aware, but you didn’t seem to be very forthcoming with information last night. I couldn’t wait around until you decided you’d let me know what was happening. You asked for my help, so I’m here.” I pushed him aside and stepped inside.
“Fair enough. Make us a cuppa, and I’ll get dressed.”
The bare chest hadn’t bothered me as I’d barged in, but as I processed his state of undress, I couldn’t help the blush across my cheeks as I noticed his freckles coated his entire body, not just his face. He’d quite literally rolled out of bed, and I could have used the caffeine myself. Leo disappeared, and I nosed about and found the kitchen. The first thing that struck me was how clean everything was. The surfaces were spotless, and there was a fancy coffee machine on the counter, with a few other stainless-steel appliances dotted about. It was nothing like the kitchen I’d shared with Maddison. All of this looked expensive and smart. I grabbed a coffee pod from the convenient rack and popped it in the top of the machine and pressed the button, before opening a few cupboards looking for the tea.
With both drinks made, I waited at one of the barstools separating the kitchen from the dining area. My thumb drummed against the surface, beating in time with my heartbeats.
“Hey,” Leo greeted as he entered the room. “You found everything then?”
“Yep, although I didn’t add any sugar.” He shook his head, took the cup of tea over to the coffee machine and spooned three heaped spoons from a small bowl in the cupboard above.
“Now, we can talk.” He took a sip and joined me on the other bar stool.
I turned to face him, eager to hear what he needed to say in person.
“Mads needs help.”
“You said that already. Why?”
“Because he’s losing it. He’s been taking on more and more fights and winning. Just. But he’s a mess. His head is screwed up. He’s drinking, gambling, taking bets. The stuff we both swore to steer clear of.” Leo’s head dropped between his shoulders. “He’s changed, and he’s not listening to anyone. He’s obsessed with making it to the next level. He’s been pushing to fight in this other scene and score big. Zuri’s been putting him off, but with the wins he’s clocking up, Mads ain’t taking his shit, and he laid it down. It got ugly.”
“And you think he’ll listen to me? Leo, you were there, he’s never listened to me before. He’s always put the fights first.” I felt trapped listening to Leo because I knew that Maddison wouldn’t want to hear anything from me.
He turned to face me again, and I saw the worry at the edge of his eyes for his friend.
“This is different. He’s got a fight lined up in London at the weekend. It’s a big event. There’s a guy who’s been doing this for a long time, and Zuri says if you get in with him, then you’re made.”
“Okay, so?”
“So, people who fight in this ring, they don’t get out. Not in one piece. It’s dangerous, Grace. Sure, we do some damage, but there are limits.”
“You think Maddison is going to get hurt?” It was what I had always worried about, and why I’d hated this from the start.
“I know he is. He’s running on ego right now and is taking odds just for the payout. Someone has got to stop him.”
“Have you tried?”
“He thinks I’m jealous because I’m not there yet. And I can say, I’m not ready for that risk. I’m making money and doing well.” He sat back for a moment.
“This is all illegal. You know this, right?” I tried to wrap my head around his comments and attempted to see a world where beating someone up was an okay job.
“Not illegal, just unregulated. We don’t have a ref, but there’s always a doctor to help us out if needed. You’ve seen it. We’re given the guidelines that The Club runs on, then get inside the ring and fight. It’s brutal, and the better you get, the harder it is. Those punches are like being stabbed in the chest a hundred times. But there’s an addictive buzz that you just can’t get from anything else.”
“He won’t speak to me. Not after the last time, I saw him.” I shook my head, already feeling defeated if the only plan Leo had was me.
“Leave the details to me. But will you at least try? We’ve got some time. He just needs to hear some sense from you. That’s all.”
“I’ll do it.” Determination overrode my fear because, above everything, I still loved Maddison, and I would do everything I could to ensure his safety.
Five days. That’s all the time I had to convince Maddison that he was making a mistake. Of course, he wasn’t answering my calls or texts. It was like he was a stranger to me—the man who’d owned a piece of my heart for as long as I could remember would never do this. We were friends above all else. Until we weren’t.
Leo told me to keep trying to reach him, but his plan sucked. So, I stalked the house—our old house. He wasn’t there the first few times I called around. It didn’t matter if I went early in the morning or late at night; he just didn’t seem to be there. And my nerves only escalated as we drew closer to the weekend.
Leo finally got in touch with me. He told me that they were travelling up to London on Saturday morning and when and where the fight would be held. That gave me zero time or room to convince Mads otherwise, but the more I thought about the times I’d watched Maddison fight, the more I knew I couldn’t sit back without trying.
It was Thursday evening, and with a ticking clock as my personal soundtrack, I drove to the house, willing my phone to buzz with a message or call from Maddison. I parked up in Mum’s car and waited. And waited. Every noise or car passing had me jumping in my seat, waiting to see if it was him. But nothing. The hours slipped into darkness, and my eyes grew heavy, staring at nothing. My head kept falling forward, stunning myself awake before I drifted off again.
Glass shattering against the pavement startled me, and I shot up in my seat. A dark shadow lumbered around the entrance to the house, the shape: a fit for Maddison.
I yanked the door handle and crossed the few metres between us to confront him.
“Maddison,” I called as he tried to fit the key in the door. He looked drunk, and the dread at this conversation only mounted. He seemed to ignore me and set about a second attempt at opening the door. As he succeeded and moved to close it, I slammed the wood, stopping it from shutting me out. “We need to talk.”
“Grace.” His sigh sounded painful even to me, and I noticed as his eyes dropped to my hand and caught the glint of the cat charm still around my wrist. “I don’t think so. Not anymore.”
“Wait, come on Mads. Don’t shut me out.”
He turned to face me, and even in the dark and through whatever amount of alcohol he’d consumed, I could see his pain looking right back at me. I searched his eyes and showed him I wouldn’t be moved. Thankfully, he gave in and turned, before he tripped into the house, leaving the door open for me. There was no light apart from the yellow glow cast by the streetlight through the front room window, so I flicked the switch in the hall to give us some illumination. I didn’t want to be under the scrutiny of the glaring lights in the front room for this conversation.