Thomas had carried the weight ever since.
He left the military.
Refused medals.
Refused interviews.
Refused consulting offers.
He disappeared.
Six months later, he applied for a job at Apex.
Dmitri had hired him because he needed someone reliable.
Thomas liked the work.
Nobody expected anything.
Nobody asked him to save anyone.
Nobody cared about his past.
He could clean floors.
That was enough.
Until Preston Harrington started pushing.
The following week, Thomas arrived at Apex and noticed something unusual.
The side door was unlocked.
He checked the security panel.
The system had been disabled manually.
Thomas frowned.
He entered the office.
Nothing looked disturbed.
He checked the cash drawer.
Untouched.
Equipment inventory.
Normal.
Then he noticed the computer terminal.
Someone had accessed the administrative system.
Thomas wasn't supposed to know anything about cybersecurity.
But he did.
He looked at the login time.
2:13 a.m.
The account belonged to Marcus Bell.
Thomas knew Marcus hadn't been at the gym.
He closed the terminal.
Then he heard footsteps.
Someone was approaching.
Thomas stepped into the hallway.
A young man stood near the office.
He froze.
"Who are you?"
Thomas recognized him.
Brett.
Preston's friend.
"What are you doing here?"
Brett swallowed.
"I forgot my gloves."
"At two in the morning?"
"I came back."
Thomas studied him.
Brett looked nervous.
Thomas said:
"Go home."
Brett left.
Thomas watched him disappear.
Then he called Dmitri.
"Something's wrong."
Security footage revealed more.
Brett had entered the office.
He had accessed Marcus's account.
He had copied membership records.
But the records weren't what concerned Thomas.
A folder had been opened.
It contained financial documents.
Apex's lease.
Loan agreements.
Sponsor payments.
And a private contract between Harrington Development Group and Apex.
Thomas read the agreement.
His expression changed.
Richard Harrington hadn't simply been a sponsor.
He had given Apex a loan.
A large one.
The loan had come with conditions.
If Apex failed to repay, Harrington Development Group could acquire controlling ownership.
Thomas stared at the documents.
Then he noticed another clause.
A clause requiring Apex to maintain "exclusive membership privileges" for designated Harrington family members.
Preston's behavior suddenly made sense.
He wasn't simply acting entitled.
He had been told he had power.
But there was more.
Apex was financially struggling.
Dmitri had never told the staff.
The gym could close within months.
Unless the upcoming amateur tournament succeeded.
And Richard Harrington controlled the tournament sponsorship.
Thomas closed his eyes.
The old instinct returned.
Analyze.
Connect.
Predict.
Protect.
He hated it.
But he couldn't ignore it.
That evening, Thomas confronted Dmitri.
"You should've told me."
Dmitri sighed.
"I didn't want everyone worried."
"Preston knows."
"I know."
"His father is using the loan to control the gym."
Dmitri nodded.
"Yes."
"Why didn't you fight it?"
"With what money?"
Thomas stared at him.
Dmitri continued.
"People think this place is successful."
He laughed bitterly.
"Half the equipment is financed. The recovery room barely breaks even. The fight team costs more than it brings in."
Thomas was silent.
"Richard Harrington knows that."
Dmitri looked down.
"He knows exactly how vulnerable we are."
Thomas asked:
"And Preston?"
"He knows too."
Thomas nodded.
"So that's why he thinks nobody can touch him."
Dmitri didn't answer.
Thomas walked toward the door.
"Where are you going?"
"Home."
"Tom."
Thomas stopped.
"Don't get involved."
Thomas looked back.
"I wasn't going to."
"Promise me."
Thomas paused.
Then said:
"I promise."
But he didn't sound convincing.
The next morning, something happened that made the promise impossible to keep.
Greg Mason arrived for training.
His nose had healed.
He was back on the treadmill.
Preston approached him.
"Hey."
Greg stopped.
Preston smiled.
"Remember last time?"
Greg looked nervous.
"You don't have to be nervous."
"I'm not."
"Good."
Preston stepped closer.
"Then spar with me."
"No."
Preston's smile disappeared.
"I wasn't asking."
Greg looked toward Dmitri.
Preston grabbed his shirt.
Thomas saw it.
He dropped the mop.
For the first time in six years, Thomas Decker moved before he thought.
He crossed the floor.
"Let him go."
Preston turned.
"Stay out of it."
Thomas stopped three feet away.
"Let him go."
Preston laughed.
"Or what?"
Thomas looked at him.
"Or this stops being a conversation."
The gym fell silent.
Preston released Greg.
Then he smiled.
"Finally."
Thomas frowned.
"Finally what?"
"Finally you stopped pretending."
The Fight Nobody Expected
Preston challenged Thomas in front of the entire gym.
"One round."
Dmitri immediately said:
"No."
Preston ignored him.
"One round."
Thomas shook his head.
"No."
Preston laughed.
"Scared?"
"No."
"Then fight."
Thomas looked around.
People were watching.
Some members were recording.
Thomas hated that.
He turned away.
Preston followed.
"What's wrong?"
Thomas said nothing.
"You can throw people down when nobody expects it."
Still nothing.
"Now everyone knows."
Thomas stopped.
He turned.
"I don't need to prove anything."
Preston smiled.
"That's because you can't."
Thomas stared at him.
Then walked away.
The crowd murmured.
Preston looked pleased.
He believed he had won.
But Dmitri followed Thomas into the hallway.
"Don't."
Thomas looked at him.
"I won't."
"You were going to."
"No."
Dmitri knew him too well.
"Tom."
Thomas sighed.
"I'm tired."
"Of what?"
"Watching people get hurt because everyone is afraid of the person with money."
Dmitri lowered his voice.
"This isn't your war."
Thomas looked back toward the gym.
"Maybe not."
Then he walked away.
That night, the amateur team had a closed training session.
Thomas wasn't supposed to be there.
He had stayed late to repair a broken storage cabinet.
He heard shouting.
Then a crash.
He ran toward the cage.
Preston and Leo were fighting again.
Leo was exhausted.
Preston was furious.
Dmitri was outside the cage.
"Stop!"
Preston didn't.
Leo fell.
Preston moved forward.
Thomas opened the cage door.
"Enough."
Preston turned.
"You again."
"Walk away."
Preston laughed.
"You don't get to tell me what to do."
Thomas looked at Leo.
"He's done."
"He's fine."
"He's done."