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“I’m not from your town.”
“No, but your parents were.” In one quick move, Lorcan escaped Kassian’s grip and shoved him off balance. “And I swore I’d find you and look out for you. I’m a man of my word.”
Kassian chuckled darkly. “My parents were addicted to any drug they could get their hands on. No way they cared even a lick about me.”
Lorcan removed the sunglasses, the concern evident in his eyes. “Your mum died after you were born, Kassian. And your da… sure, he had his demons, but he loved you. They both did.”
This wasn’t the story his child protective services handler spewed every chance she got. Not to mention every foster mom who took him in over the years. Women abandoned and mistreated him for as long as he could remember. He wasn’t sure if he should or even could believe what this stranger said.
“Doesn’t matter. I have a life here.” He brushed past Lorcan and into the streaming sunlight.
“Aye, but for how much longer? Your body will give up long before your mind with each fight. Then what will you have? Memories of winning?”
Kassian kept his eyes trained on the horizon. A city bus would be along soon enough.Since apparently my trainer forgot.
“I’m offering you a family. One that won’t give up on you.”
It sounded too good to be true. It was all he wanted growing up. After being tossed from group home to foster family on repeat, the desire to have some good in his life remained the same. He eyed Lorcan. The man looked decent enough.
“I’ll be eighteen in three months. You lost your chance.”
A police siren blared on the street, passing the jail quickly, the city bus not far behind. This was his chance to escape. Run before anyone knew where he was. He could start over. Again. He’d done it ten times before.
“You don’t need a judge to say you’re family.” Lorcan smiled up at him. “Just somebody who wants to take care of you. Macha can do that.”
“And I’m just supposed to believe this?” Kassian scoffed, wincing when the cut on his lip cracked open and the metallic taste of blood hit his tongue.
The city bus neared, its engine huffing noisily under the day’s heat. But it was the dark sedan behind it that gave Kassian a moment of pause. There weren’t any lights, but he had been able to spot an undercover car from miles away ever since he was eight years old.
Running a hand over his bald head, he let out a breath. His past had caught up to him and he could either run or face it.
“What’s it going to be, boyo?”
Kassian swung his gaze to the Irishman. To his surprise the man wasn’t leering. He was merely lighting up a smoke.
“You, I guess.” He shrugged. “So, what do I have to do? Take somebody out? Toss a few fights? What? There’s always something.” Being indebted to anyone felt like shit, but prison would be worse.
Lorcan took a long drag from the cigarette. “None of the above.” He waved to Kassian and started walking toward an early 2000s model pickup truck.
For a moment, the world stood still. The city bus chugged away, and the patrol car shut off. Kassian couldn’t tell if this biker was loony or legit, but he’d take his chances. He’d never give up MMA. Not for this guy or any other. He was a fighter and he’d never hang up that role.
He moved toward the truck, giving the county jail one last glance over his shoulder. A new start was exactly what he needed.
“So, that’s the cost?” he asked, safely stowed in the truck.
Lorcan handed him a stack of brochures. “You’ve been on your own too long. You need structure before I’ll even consider letting you in my club.” He started the truck, ’70s rock music filling the cab. “Pick one of those and I’ll do the rest.”
Kassian rifled through the pamphlets and snorted. Every subject from counseling to joining the Armed Forces stared back at him. “Why should I?”
Lorcan pulled out of the parking lot, the cigarette resting in his left hand making Kassian itch for one. “Nobody’s given you a fighting chance, Kassian. I want to. Macha wants to give you an opportunity for a better life. If you decide later you don’t want our help, we’ll accept it. Until then, consider our club your last foster home.”
Kassian kept staring at the Irishman, waiting for him to take back the words. It didn’t make sense. He was nobody except to the state. The alternative was to go back to a foster home that didn’t want him. The club didn’t sound appealing, but neither did a foster home.I guess the club’s better than being on the run.
“What about my warrant?”
“Taken care of. Your underground fighting days are over.” Lorcan flicked on his blinker. “Macha does things above board whenever possible. Fighting included.”
“And my trainer? I owe him.”
