“No.”
“You could coach.”
“No.”
“You could at least tell people what you've learned.”
Thomas stopped.
“That sounds like work.”
Dmitri laughed.
“It is.”
Thomas smiled faintly.
Then Preston entered the room.
“I want to ask you something.”
Thomas looked up.
“What?”
“I want to fight in the tournament.”
Thomas nodded.
“You're already registered.”
“I want to fight differently.”
Thomas understood.
“You want to prove something.”
“Yes.”
“To yourself?”
Preston nodded.
Thomas leaned the mop against the wall.
“Then don't prove anything.”
Preston frowned.
“What?”
“Fight because you trained.”
“But—”
“No.”
Thomas stepped closer.
“If you go into that cage trying to prove you're not your father, you're already distracted.”
Preston listened.
“If you go in trying to prove you're better than someone, you're distracted.”
Thomas pointed toward the mat.
“You go in there because you decided to become disciplined.”
Preston nodded.
“And if I lose?”
“Then you lose.”
Preston looked disappointed.
Thomas smiled.
“That's not the end of the world.”
For the first time, Preston smiled too.
The tournament came two weeks later.
Preston won his first match.
He won his second.
In the final, he lost.
There was no controversy.
No excuses.
His opponent was better.
Preston shook the man's hand afterward.
Then he walked back to the corner where Thomas stood.
“I lost.”
Thomas nodded.
“I saw.”
Preston laughed.
“You're supposed to tell me I'm proud.”
“I am.”
Preston stared at him.
Thomas continued.
“You lost without becoming cruel.”
Preston looked down.
“That matters?”
“It matters more than winning.”
Preston nodded.
Then he looked at Dmitri.
“Dad pulled the sponsorship.”
Dmitri sighed.
“I heard.”
“I want to help keep Apex open.”
Dmitri blinked.
“How?”
Preston pulled a folded document from his bag.
“My father owns the building.”
Thomas looked at him.
“He offered to sell it.”
Dmitri stared.
“To who?”
“A development company.”
Silence.
“They want to turn this whole block into luxury apartments.”
Dmitri sat down.
“How long?”
“Thirty days.”
Thomas looked around Apex.
The cage.
The mats.
The bags.
The place where people had trained.
Failed.
Recovered.
Started again.
It was imperfect.
But it mattered.
“What can we do?” Dmitri asked.
Preston looked at Thomas.
Thomas shook his head.
“No.”
Preston frowned.
“You haven't even heard the plan.”
Thomas smiled.
“I know exactly what you're thinking.”
“What?”
“You're going to fight your father.”
“No.”
Preston took a breath.
“I’m going to negotiate with him.”
Thomas nodded.
“That might work.”
“And if it doesn't?”
Thomas looked at him.
“Then we find another way.”
Pride Comes Free
Richard Harrington arrived at Apex on a Monday morning.
He entered wearing a dark suit.
Two lawyers followed him.
He looked around the gym as though inspecting property he had already decided to own.
Dmitri stood behind reception.
Preston stood beside him.
Thomas was cleaning the floor.
Richard's eyes landed on him.
“So you're Thomas Decker.”
Thomas nodded.
“Yes.”
Richard studied him.
“I've heard quite a bit.”
Thomas returned to his mop.
“That's unfortunate.”
Dmitri nearly smiled.
Richard did not.
“My son tells me you have influence here.”
“No.”
Preston interrupted.
“He does.”
Thomas looked at Preston.
Richard sighed.
“Preston, this is business.”
“No.”
Preston's voice was calm.
“It's personal too.”
Richard's expression hardened.
“You lost your tournament.”
“Yes.”
“You embarrassed yourself.”
“Yes.”
“And now you're defending a gym that isn't even yours.”
“Yes.”
Richard looked around.
“Why?”
Preston took a breath.
“Because for the first time, I did something that wasn't because you paid for it.”
Richard said nothing.
Preston continued.
“You taught me that money solves problems.”
Richard frowned.
“You're blaming me?”
“No.”
Preston looked at Thomas.
“I'm saying I believed you.”
Richard followed his son's gaze.
For the first time, the two men looked at Thomas together.
Richard had expected a janitor.
He had not expected a veteran.
He had not expected the man his son had lost to.
Most importantly, he had not expected someone who did not seem impressed by him.
Richard stepped closer.
“You could make a lot of money with your background.”
Thomas shrugged.
“I have enough.”
“How much is enough?”
Thomas looked around the gym.
“This.”
Richard laughed.
“This?”
Thomas nodded.
“An honest day's work.”
Richard's lawyers exchanged glances.
“You're cleaning floors.”
“Yes.”
“You're capable of more.”
Thomas smiled.
“That depends on what you mean by more.”
Richard looked at him.
Thomas continued.
“I've already had a life where people thought more meant more responsibility, more money, more authority, more danger.”
He looked at the cage.
“I don't want that anymore.”
Richard was quiet.
Then Preston spoke.
“I want to buy the building.”
Richard stared at his son.
“With what?”
“My savings.”
“You don't have enough.”
“Then I'll get investors.”
“You don't know how.”
“I can learn.”
Richard shook his head.
“You're twenty-two.”
Thomas watched the conversation.