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I frowned, chastising myself. This wasn’t a joke. It was…real. I could feel her. Not in a way that hurt. In a way that grounded me. Like her light hadn’t vanished—it had just changed shape.
I took the deepest, fullest breath that I had in ten months.
By the time I left the nursery, dusk had settled into the house. I was still smiling as I walked back to the bedroom.
I sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled my phone out of my back pocket.
“Showtime,” I murmured.
I dialed Maurice.
The phone rang four times before it kicked to voicemail.
Perfect.
“Maurice, this is Post,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I wanted to talk to you about getting in the ring again. I wanted to see if you have anything available soon.”
I let the word soon land heavy. With just enough edge, just enough need.
I hung up and set the phone face down on my nightstand.
Tomorrow I wasn’t on until noon with Fletcher. I frowned, trying to recall, and remembered Michael had the day off and planned to go hiking with his wife. I wanted to catch him before he disappeared into the woods.
I needed sleep if I was going to catch him that early.
I doubted sleep would come, but I lay back anyway and stared at the ceiling. I thought about Chloe’s emojis and Kristen’s steady light.
For the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel like I was running away from something. I was running toward something.
I was already halfway through my coffee when Michael leaned back against his truck outside Java Jolt and squinted at me.
“So,” he said, lifting his cup, “you gonna tell me why you got up at the ass-crack of dawn?”
I smirked. “You say that like I don’t do this all the time.”
“You don’t,” he shot back. “You’re a barely-functional human before nine. Something’s up.”
I took another sip and nodded. “I want to run a couple things by you.”
His brow lifted. “This one of those ‘I don’t need you to do anything’ conversations that absolutely requires me to do something?”
“Maybe,” I said. “But mostly I just need a fresh pair of eyes. Metaphorically speaking.”
He studied me for a beat, then sighed. “Does this have anything to do with you being such a dumbass lately? Is it going to be my turn to beat the shit out of you?”
I laughed, short and honest. “No beat-down required. It actually has a lot to do with me pulling my head out of my ass and taking stock of my life. Of getting back on track.”
That got his attention.
He grinned and tipped his cup toward me. “Then count me in. Lay it on me.”
So, I did.
I started at the beginning—Cappy watching my fight with JJ Baumgartner and telling me I needed to be benched. Maurice approaching me. The feeder fights. Tyler. The next night at the distillery. The wreck. Conversations with Chloe. Onyx. The Broker.
I didn’t sugarcoat it.
Then I started talking slower as I mentioned the plan we had come up with. Having me go in… Using Chloe as leverage.