Nate woke slowly, his eyes focusing on the warm sun streaming in through his bedroom window. He blinked a few times and turned slightly to glance at the clock. 10:34 am. Jay wouldn't be awake yet, but Zoey might be. Nate yawned and nudged the quilt off himself with his feet. How he'd slept in sweats under a blanket at the beginning of a California summer, he'd never know. But now it was morning, which meant his body needed fuel and exercise.

He stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom, where he stared at himself in the mirror. His hair was getting longer, and as much as he hated to admit to himself, he preferred it this way. He'd always kept his hair buzzed short, but when it grew enough to fill in a little and stop looking shaved off, he liked how the darker color suited him. He turned from the mirror, took a piss, and then scrubbed a hand over his face to wake himself up.

On his way to the kitchen, he saw his little sister, Zoey, sitting on the couch. He didn't have to look closely to know she was crunching on Cheerios. "Want some eggs?" he asked as he passed.

"Sure," she replied, not turning her attention from the TV. She was sixteen and enjoying her first week of summer vacation, but that didn't mean she'd stop eating Cheerios. The kid practically lived off of them. Nate wasn't a health nut, but being a fighter meant knowing how to take care of your body, and watching his kid sister eat only Cheerios every day wasn't flying with him.

"What are you watching?" Nate asked from the kitchen a few minutes later. He'd been trying to place the show while the eggs cooked on the stove, but it just wasn't happening. "Scandal?"

"No, it's this new show. How to Get Away With Murder."

"You planning on killing someone?" Nate asked, turning back to the eggs.

She laughed. "Not at the moment."

"Good. I don't wanna have to hide a body."

"Aww, you'd help me hide the body? I knew you loved me."

"Shut up. And you know Jay'd be the one hiding the body. He lives for that shit."

Nate turned the stove off and grabbed two forks out of the drawer. He carried the pan over to the sofa where Zoey was sitting. She moved over without being asked and set her cereal on the coffee table. Nate sat next to her, set the pan between them, and handed her a fork. She threw in a few words of explanation here and there, but since they were watching the first episode, Nate hadn't missed much.

The episode ended in a cliffhanger, and soon half an hour on the couch had turned into nearly two hours. The pan sat empty between the siblings as the credits for the third episode started.

Nate exhaled and stood up.

"Nooooo," Zoey moaned.

"I know," Nate agreed, "but I gotta go to the gym. Dad's gonna start wondering where I am."

At the mention of their father, Zoey made a face. Nate chose to ignore her. He returned to his room to change into jeans and a hoodie.

"I'll be back in a couple hours," he stated. "Late lunch?"

"Yeah," Zoey replied. "Jay should be up by then."

"Kay. See ya."

"Bye."

Zoey stayed on the couch until she heard the gate clang shut behind Nate, and she stood up to take the dishes to the sink. The clock said it was well past noon, which meant Nate's "late lunch" was going to take place around 3 o'clock at the earliest, and that meant they'd be eating another 9pm dinner. Zoey honestly didn't mind it, but it was a little strange for her body to adjust from school and Dad's rigorous meal schedule to Nate and Jay's lounging schedule.

She lived with Alvey, her dad, on school nights, but she escaped to Nate and Jay's every chance she got. It wasn't that she hated her dad… it was more that her dad didn't know what to do with her. She wasn't a fighter like her brothers, but she wasn't a princessy girly-girl either. She liked to shop, sure, but so did Jay. She found exercise in swimming, not fighting. Her brothers both enjoyed cooking more than she did, and she preferred sleep to aggressive exercise. This confusion caused a big rift between father and daughter.

Nate and Jay, on the other hand, didn't push Zoey to be a stereotypical girl. They didn't care how the things she liked and didn't like fit into society's definition of gender; the brothers just accepted those things as part of her personality. They all went to the pool sometimes, just like Zoey would run around the gym and spar with her brothers sometimes. They had a good balance. Actually, Nate and Zoey had such a good balance that Jay sometimes referred to them as "Yin and Yang," or even "the twins." Nate was 21 and Zoey 16, but they could spend hours together and not get sick of each other. Jay was a little too crazy for Nate's calm demeanor, but Zoey was just talkative enough. Nate and Zoey also had a sort of sixth sense when it came to each other. When Zoey was little, Nate would go into her room and wake her in the middle of the night, because he could feel, from the other side of the house, that she was having a nightmare. Zoey sometimes knew exactly what sort of day Nate had before he got home. She'd tell Jay that Nate had been having a bad day and to make macaroni and cheese casserole for dinner because that's what he wanted. And Nate would come home, and it would be true.

Jay, though… He was the dad Zoey never felt she had. Nate and Zoey were Jay's top priority, no matter what. He made sure their homework was done, that there was dinner on the table, and that everyone went to bed at a decent hour. He truly cared for his siblings – or, as he sometimes referred to them, his kids. With Alvey being a fighter when Zoey was born, she hadn't formed a bond with her father that most children share with their parents. Since Mom was immediately out of the picture and Alvey was always gone, it was Jay that fed Zoey and played with her and picked her up when she was crying. He'd been 11 years old when she was born. It hadn't been a cakewalk, taking care of a baby when he was still just a kid himself, but in the six months or so that Mom had stuck around after Zoey was born, Jay had gotten the hang of it.

When Jay was fifteen, he gave up on Alvey and officially started taking care of Nate and Zoey alone. Within eight months, he'd moved them (illegally) into a tiny apartment that he paid for by bagging groceries every day. He hadn't finished high school, but he put his all into making sure Nate did, even with the constant fight training. Once Nate was old enough to start helping watch Zoey, Jay picked up a second job as a busboy at night. He hated it, but he'd get home in time to see Nate off to school and get Zoey to kindergarten. He'd sleep until it was time to go back to Ralph's and bag more groceries and then do it all again.

Zoey didn't know how long she'd been staring out the window when Jay broke her out of her thoughts.

"Morning," he announced, sauntering in.

"Hey," Zoey replied, going back to the dishes.

"You eat?"

"Yep."

"Is Nate at the gym?"

"Yep."

"Okay, then," Jay said, walking up to his little sister and squeezing her in a hug.

"You need a shower," Zoey chastised. "Ugh, gross!"

"Shut up," he teased," I'm delicious. So, what are you doing today?"

"Not sure. Taking it easy. Nate and I started a new show this morning."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. It's called How to Get Away With Murder, and it's amazing."

"You planning on killing someone?"

"That's what Nate said!" Zoey laughed. "What are you gonna do today?"

"I," Jay announced, throwing his arms out to the side, "am going to throw a party."

Nate was cooling off in the cage after sparring with Joe Daddy when all of a sudden, in walked a familiar face. Nate's eyes widened slightly, and Alvey, who was standing over him, glanced back at the gaggle of chattering guys in the doorway.

Unable to see what Nate had seen, Alvey murmured, "The fuck's going on?" His voice rose to a shout. "Ay. Ay! What, is the ice cream man here? Get back to work!"

The guys dispersed, and all that was left was a lean man in a hoodie slowly walking toward the cage.

"Cool Nate down. Shadow box," Alvey instructed Joe Daddy. He stepped off the cage and down to meet his former prodigy. "When'd you get out?" he inquired, skipping the formalities.

"Yesterday," the man answered. His voice was softer than Alvey remembered. "I'm at a halfway house."

"D'you fuck that up yet?" Alvey asked, his voice hard.

The other man was slightly taken aback, but he knew he'd deserved the question. He ducked his head. "Nah, man. It's different now. I'm not… I'm not causing problems."

Alvey nodded, taking it in. He glanced behind him and then quietly asked, "The fuck are you doing here, Ryan?"

The other man pressed his lips together and shook his head. Alvey could still read Ryan Wheeler like the back of his hand. "Come on, come to my office. Tell me where your head's at."

Ryan looked all around the gym as they walked through. So many changes… New arrangement, new equipment, and new faces. "Is that Nate in the cage?" he asked, shutting Alvey's door behind himself.

"Yeah, man," Alvey smiled, unable to keep the pride out of his voice. "He's just finishing up camp. He's on a Long Beach card. Fighting Walker. UFC stuff."

"Wow. Yeah?"

"He beats Walker, he looks good doing it – he's a serious conversation at 155. Serious." Alvey leaned back in his chair.

Ryan took a moment to look at the photos behind Alvey on the shelf. His eyes glossed over a few, but he focused on a crinkled black and white one of Alvey's kids. Jay was holding Nate in one arm and Zoey in the other. "How's Jay and Little Zee doing, anyway?"

"Zoey just finished her junior year. I guess she's supposed to start looking at colleges soon. She'll be a senior in September."

"Senior," Ryan exhaled. "They grow up too fast."

"Ah, tell me about it. And Jay… Don't ask me about Jay," Alvey muttered. "I'm missing a computer, if that tells you anything."

"Is he fighting at all?"

"Nah, nah. He hasn't fought in a couple years."

"I heard that he was tearing up! What happened?"

Alvey pulled out his phone, not wanting to think about what had taken place. "He kept pulling out of fights," he explained, trying to sound indifferent. "Made me look like an asshole."

"Fuck," Ryan cursed, concerned. "Is he gettin' fucked up?"

"Yeah, you know Jay. He's getting fucked up, he fucks things up, he steals shit… he's a fuckup. Ya know. I had to 86 his ass outta the gym cause I don't want him poisoning Nate's camp, not with a fight like this coming up." He sighed. "No, I don't wanna fucking talk about Jay. What about you? Huh? You show up here after five and a half years – you look good. You in shape? You wanna fight?"

"No, no," Ryan corrected quickly. "I'm not even thinking about that right now."

"Why not? I mean, four years off, you're still young, no wear and tear in the body…"

"Yeah, it's more about, like. What I can handle, you know. Emotionally."

"Oh, okay."

"Kinda easing back into things," Ryan admitted as Alvey interrupted, "I gotcha, I gotcha."

"Yeah just, one step at a time, you know." Ryan explained.

"No, no. Say no more," Alvey replied, his voice gentle. "I understand."

Ryan looked down at his shoes. "Yeah, but honestly, Alvey…" He cleared his throat. "I was hoping, maybe, I could help out around here, you know? Coach the guys up. You know, whatever you need.

"You know, the truth of it is, Ryan, I'm kinda sucking wind from my asshole," Alvey admitted.

"That's fine. I'd do it for free, man. Just help out. Fit in wherever."

"You'd do it for free?"

"Yeah, man. Whatever you need."

There was a pause as Alvey thought about it. "I don't know. Maybe…" He blew a breath out from between his lips. "Wanna maybe help me with Nate's camp? That'd be good for him. For a couple days, and then we can talk after?"

"Yeah," Ryan agreed eagerly.

"Yeah?" Alvey asked.

"Couple days, man. I'll tune him up."

"Good," Alvey declared, relaxing a little. "It'll be like old times, only better." He smiled.

"Yeah."

"Good," Alvey repeated, standing up. "Good."

"Thanks," Ryan said, a smile on his face now, too. He stood as well, and the pair shook hands.

"Glad you're okay."

"Thank you," Ryan answered humbly.

"Oh, you know what," Alvey remembered, "I got a bunch of shit I wanna show ya. Come here."

Ryan followed Alvey back across the gym to a storage closet. Alvey tugged on a thin wire near the ceiling, and a light flickered on, revealing two boxes stuffed with posters, photos, and Ryan's old trophies. "I was gonna throw this shit away," the older man stated, "but instead I moved it around fifteen times."

Alvey's younger son was on the second floor pedaling a stationary bike. He'd managed to balance a gallon jug on one of the handlebars, and he was sweating bullets. He could see Lisa coming towards him, just after Ryan and his dad had walked through. Uh-oh.

"Hey, Nate," she called up to him. "Where's your dad?"

"Over by the storage thing," Nate answered, his brain ticking. She doesn't know, she doesn't know. Protect her. Warn her, his mind screamed. "Lisa," he called, sure to keep his voice even.

She looked back up at him.

"Wheeler's here."

She looked up at him, her eyes unreadable, but he could tell she was thankful for the warning. He watched as she strutted up to the men and stood her ground. As odd as it had been for Nate when she and his dad got together (Lisa had always been "Ryan's fiancée" in Nate's mind, and then suddenly she wasn't. Not to mention that Lisa and Jay were the same age), Nate genuinely cared about Lisa. She was tough and funny, and she made his dad a better person.

He got off the stationary bike, wanting to avoid any explosion that might take place. After he gave his legs a few seconds to adjust to their new stillness, he slung his bag over his shoulder, grabbed his water, and jogged down the stairs. As he was heading around the corner, Ryan came up to him.

"Hey, Nate, you rollin' out?"

"Yeah," Nate called, faltering to let the man catch up to him. They stepped out into the sunshine together, and Nate grabbed his bike. He wheeled it along as he accompanied Ryan to the bus stop.

"You're a big-ass 155," Ryan joked as they walked.

"Yeah, I'm 172 right now," Nate admitted.

Ryan gave a low whistle. "Fuck. Don't you have a fight in three days?"

"Yeah," Nate muttered.

"It's gonna be a nasty cut. Think you can do it?"

"I'd better," Nate said, and they both chuckled. "Else my dad's gonna kill me. You know how crazy he is."

"Nah, you'll be alright, man," Ryan laughed. "I cut twenty pounds every time I fight. Two gallons of water a day to help with the hunger…"

Nate held up his jug.

"Yeah. Good, good," Ryan affirmed. "So, your dad said you had a good camp. You feel ready?"

"Yeah," Nate nodded, the lie spilling out of his mouth. "Yeah, for sure."

"Oh, yeah?"

"What about you, you back now or what?" Nate asked, clearly not wanting to continue talking about the fight.

"Maybe, I don't know."

"Look, my – my wrestling could use a little work," Nate began, taking on a tone that was almost shy.

"Yeah, your dad and I are talking. We're gonna work something out. Don't worry, I'll get you tuned up."

"That'd be awesome."

"Well, this is me right here," Ryan declared, motioning to a bench marked BUS STOP. The two men clapped hands.

Nate stood, staring at Ryan and kind of nodding awkwardly, not wanting to leave him.

Ryan gave him a small smile. "It's not that bad," he assured Nate. "I've got reading material." He held up a tabloid magazine for proof.

Nate smiled back. "Enjoy," he teased, and pulled his hood up over his head.

"Give Jay a shout. And hug your sister for me."

"Yeah, I will," Nate replied. "Be safe, man." He threw a leg over his bicycle and headed home. It was hot on his ride back, uphill on a SoCal summer afternoon in jeans and a hoodie, but every drop of sweat was weight lost, and he needed to work off seventeen pounds before Saturday.

Before he even got to the gate, he could tell Jay was awake and high as fuck. There was loud chatter in front of the house, and Nate could smell pot. There was a piece of paper stuck in the fence – fuck. About the rent again. He stepped off his bike and started weaving through Jay's "friends" to get to his room for some peace and quiet.

"Hey, Nate, what's up dog," a big Hawaiian guy greeted as a blonde girl handed him a bong. Nate couldn't remember his name. They bumped elbows as Nate passed.

The air in the house was cooler than it was outside, but not much. All the windows and doors were open, letting the hot air in. Nate was more bothered by the noise than the heat, though. People were smoking around the foosball table and drinking beers on the couch. It was the usual, but with Wheeler coming back to the gym, Nate needed to process.

Nate finally got to his room, opened the door, and was greeted with the sight of his brother's naked ass.

"Not fucking now, man!" Jay called, not even bothering to turn around. He was clad in only an Indian headdress and his beloved sunglasses as he pounded into some girl from behind.

"You're in my room, Jay," Nate explained. He wished he could say this was the first time he'd experienced this, but that would be a lie.

"Oh," Jay said, slowing down as he recognized his brother's voice. The girl remained a moaning mess under him anyway. "Well, this is fucking embarrassing." He sighed. "The damage is done, Nate. Five more minutes? Five."

Nate dropped his bag by his dresser and walked away.

"Shut the door, please?" Jay called. "Shut the fucking door, please, please."

Nate obliged and headed into the kitchen to make a smoothie. That Asian girl, Kacey, was there, peppering him with questions and trying to be sexy. He ignored her.

"How come you don't talk?" she finally asked.

"I do talk," he muttered.

"No, you don't. You just work out and drink those fucking smoothies and eat fucking celery and don't talk to anyone."

Nate raised his eyebrows slightly and walked away, said smoothie in hand. He hated celery. He headed to Zoey's door and knocked. There was silence. He knocked again. "Zebra, it's me. I know you're in there."

She opened the door a crack, saw that it was indeed her brother, and let him in. She locked the door behind him. "Oh, good. I thought you were somebody else that was gonna try to have sex in here."

Nate gave a small smile as he plopped down on her bed. "Jay's having sex in my room."

"Oh, god," she groaned, dropping her face into her hands. She took a seat next to her brother.

"On my bed."

"No!"

Nate made a silly face at her. "I walked in and got a great view of his ass."

Zoey couldn't help but laugh. "Gross."

"Yeah. He's gonna be cleaning everything. And I mean everything."

"That's good," she giggled. "How was the gym?"

"Okay."

"Just okay?"

"Joe Daddy made me got on the scale," he explained, avoiding the subject of Wheeler. Zee had been devastated when everything went down with him a few years ago. As great as it was to see him again after all this time, Nate didn't want to let his little sister in on what was going on when Wheeler could easily fuck everything up again at any minute.

"And?"

"Aaand. I've gotta lose seventeen pounds in the next two days."

"Yikes," Zoey murmured sympathetically.

"Yeah. So I've got my water and my smoothie. No baking until Sunday, got it?"

"Yeah. I'll make you some weed brownies after the fight."

"Don't let Jay hear you talk like that," Nate advised as he pulled something up on his phone. Zoey took the smoothie he'd balanced against his hip and tried a sip. The taste of strawberry mixed with protein powder exploded across her tongue.

"Who says I'm just talking?" she grinned, swallowing thickly.

"Zee," he warned.

"Yeah, yeah," she replied, pushing the smoothie cup back into his hand. "No drugs til I'm done with school, I got it. You two are the biggest fucking hypocrites."

"Yeah, well. We want you to do well."

"I'm fine," Zoey insisted. "Hey, is that Walker?" she asked, peering over Nate's shoulder at his screen, but there was a yell from down the hall that cut off Nate's answer.

"HEYYYYY PARTY'S OVER! EVERYBODY OUT, OUT, OUT, OUT, OUT! Andale, andale!" Jay shouted.

"Oh, good," Zoey sighed, falling back onto her bed. She shut her eyes and listened as it got quieter. If Nate was being honest, he was relieved as well. They both jumped at the loud, sudden banging on Zoey's door.

"Let's go burn some meat!" Jay was yelling. Nate walked up and opened the door, cell phone and smoothie still in hand.

"Hey! Nate! Watcha got there, pal?" Jay asked, already walking away.

"Walker's got heavy hands," Nate murmured, staring at his screen. He closed Zoey's door behind himself and followed Jay out to the yard.

"Yeah, well," Jay replied, "that's all he's got. Gentlemen!" Jay called to the guys standing around the foosball table, "Let's go!" And back to Nate, "And I'm telling you, that's a highlight reel, so you're not gonna see all the other times he gets his fucking ass whipped. Here, sit down," Jay instructed, motioning to the old chair for Nate to sit in. "You're gonna fucking smash this kid, Nate. You got this. Clint's a little bitch."

"He's won seven in a row," Nate disputed.

"Against fuckin' nobody, Nate! Fuckin' nobody. You're gonna do tremendous fuckin' damage to this young man. You gotta drag him to the fucking deep end and you're gonna wait til he curls up like a bag of fucking monkey bitch. Trembling, whimpering monkey bitch. Okay? Or you could just punch him in the fucking face, cause he hates that. That's how I beat him."

"That was three years ago, Jay."

"I know, but it's the same motherfucker, bro. It's the same motherfucker."

Nate sighed. "Hey. This was in the fence," he stated, pulling the crumpled paper from his back pocket. "You said you paid the rent."

"I did," Jay replied, but he glanced at the paper anyway. "He's trippin'. We're a few hundred short, that's it. Don't worry about it."

"Well, what happened to the money from my last fight?" Nate could see Zoey walking out of the house, and he wanted the conversation to be over as soon as possible. He didn't want her stressing about money any more than she already was.

"It's gone," Jay admitted calmly, pulling the meat off the grill.

"Where did it go," Nate asked flatly.

"Rent, bills, supplements… Ya know. Shit is expensive." Some brunette walked up to Jay and started making out with him. Nate snorted and looked away. A moment later, his mind placed her as the girl Jay had been fucking in his room. She pulled away and sauntered off. Jay smacked her ass as she walked.

"Hey," Jay continued, easily slipping back into his conversation with Nate. "Don't I always fucking take care of you?"

"Yeah," Nate agreed quietly.

"Ah. You ever want for anything? I don't recall us ever sleeping on the fucking beach, do I? Do I?" Jay pulled Nate in tight and planted a big kiss on his temple. Nate cracked a smile at his brother's sloppy show of affection. "No. All you need to do right now – thank you, my friend," Jay murmured to the Hawaiian guy, who handed him a joint. He made a show of breathing it in, and both guys laughed. "You need to focus on this fight. That is the only thing your mind needs to be on right now. Okay?"

Zoey walked up and collapsed into the chair next to Nate. The sight of Jay in brightly striped underwear waving a spatula around in the front yard and talking animatedly to Nate put a fond smile on her face. Her family was so weird.

"Now. You wanna spar tomorrow?" Jay asked Nate around the cloud of smoke he was blowing.

"Dad doesn't want you in the gym."

"Then it's settled. We'll all go. Come on, it'll be fun."

When Nate didn't answer, Jay put on his puppy face. Nate held out for a few seconds, but quickly sighed in defeat. "Could you keep your fucking balls off my chicken, please?"

"Yes," Jay whispered, pumping his fist in the air. "Nate's gonna beat the shit out of Clint Walker, Zee."

"I know," she smiled. She gave Nate a punch on the arm.

"Okay, you two," Nate mumbled.

"Gimme an N!" Jay shouted.

"N!" Zoey yelled.

"Oh, here we go," Nate groaned.

"Gimme an A!"

"A!" The few people still in the yard joined in.

"Gimme an T!"

"T!"

"Gimme an E!"

"E!"

"What's that spell?!"

"NAAAAATE!"

Zoey threw her arms around her brother and squeezed. "Ahh, I'm so excited for you to kick his ass," she squealed.

"Yeah, til Dad makes you wear a dress," Nate reminded.

"Ugh," she replied, letting go of him to slump. "I'll bring clothes to change into."

"You'd better," Jay agreed. "I don't wanna see any more of your underwear than I did last time."

"Who's parading around in underwear right now!" Zoey exclaimed.

"Wait, what happened last time?" Nate asked.

"I was really excited, okay?" Zoey began defensively, but Jay cut her off.

"Princess over here was wearing a dress like Daddy said, and she was jumping around and flashing everybody. And I mean, everybody. Couldn't get the horrible images out of my mind for weeks."

Nate laughed. Zoey stuck her tongue out at her brothers. "You were knocking people out!" she exclaimed to Nate, who was smiling at the story. "It was a big deal!"

With no warning, Nate grabbed his little sister and put her in a headlock, giving her a noogie to mess up her hair.

"Nate! No! NATE!" She tried to hit him, but she was stuck. A laugh bubbled out of her anyway.

"A little to the left, Zo," Jay coached, but it did nothing to stop the twins. He pulled the meat off the grill and jumped in to start tickling his little sister. She shrieked and started laughing hysterically.

"JAY! NATE! STOP IT! STOP!"

Even Nate was laughing then. Zoey started calling for help, but the last of Jay's party guests had exited the yard.

"We've got you now, little girl," Jay taunted. All Zoey could do was scream and laugh. She squirmed so hard that she slid down out of the chair. Nate let go of her and opted to start tickling her with Jay.

She screamed again. "I CAN'T – BREATHE!" She was laughing and thrashing in the grass under her brothers.

"Say 'uncle,'" Jay instructed. "Say it."

"JAY!"

"Somebody's gonna call the cops," Nate cautioned, but he was still smiling.

"Say it," Jay repeated, ignoring Nate's warning and continuing to tickle his little sister mercilessly. Zoey was now laughing so hard she couldn't make any sounds. "Zoey Grace, say it. Say it."

Finally, she caught a breath. "UNCLE!" she screamed, and her brothers immediately stopped. She scrambled a few feet away from them, breathing hard, but she was still smiling. "I hate you both."

"Ahh, you love us," Jay replied, standing up and walking back to the grill, shaking his ass as he went.

"I didn't leave him for you," Lisa was telling Alvey for the millionth time. "I left him for me. I don't know how many times I have to beat this into your brain."

The argument was a never-ending circle, and now that Ryan had returned to the gym, it had come back full force.

"He uses people, Alvey," Lisa continued. "The second you got him to UFC, he dumped your ass for Greg Jackson."

"Okay, that was a long time ago – you're not smoking those," he muttered as Lisa grabbed a pack of cigarettes. "That was a long time ago, and he knows he messed up!"

"You don't know him like I do," Lisa insisted.

"I know he's a superstar, and I know he's twenty eight, and I know he's got a lot of fight left in him. That I know. We – we are hanging on a very thin thread, financially. You tell me that every day."

Lisa nodded.

"Okay, so guys like Ryan don't come around every day. I can't let him go. If I'm gonna stay relevant, I need a superstar in my camp. Ryan's a superstar."

"How do you even know if he wants to fight again?" Lisa asked.

Her question was enough for Alvey to know that he'd almost gotten her to give in. Just a little more work, and he'd have her.