Page 58 of Craving the Edge

Her hands came up to rest on my chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of my jumper.

When I finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard. She looked wrecked. I probably looked the same. Her lips were swollen, her eyes wide and dark.

I took a deep breath. “Come with me,” I whispered. “To Sydney for the fight. Come with me.”

She said nothing. Her expression was completely unreadable, her grey-green eyes searching mine for the catch. I could see the refusal forming on her lips…

“I’m not asking you to pack up your life for me,” I went on before she could say anything. “Just…come for the fight. One trip. You can be on the first plane back the next day if you want.”

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to my chest. I saw her internal battle. The self-protective part of her warring with the flicker of an uncertain future.

“Just think about it,” I murmured. “Think about what I’ve said. About what I’ve done. I told you I’d protect you and I meant it. Think about what you want for a change. You deserve a hell of a lot more than what you’ve allowed yourself to have.”

I leaned in and kissed her again, a brief, soft press of my lips to hers. A promise.

When I pulled away, her eyes were still closed.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I said. “Once I know what my flights look like.” I waited until she opened her eyes again. “Promise me you’ll call if you need anything. Anything at all. Even if you just want to talk shit. Even if you just want to say nothing.”

A tiny, exhausted smile touched her lips. “Okay.”

“Promise me, Char.”

She held my gaze for a beat longer. “I promise.”

I dropped my hands from her hair, the loss of contact feeling like I’d severed a major artery. I forced myself to turn and walk out the door, leaving her standing alone in the middle of her empty lounge room.

CHAPTER 21

CHAR

I stood on the footpath outside what was once Fighter’s Edge.

It’d been cordoned off with police tape and hastily erected temp fencing. An inspector from the Metropolitan Fire Brigade wearing a high-vis coat and boots, moved through the wreckage, clipboard in hand, taking photos on his phone. I watched him from behind the tape, the air still thick with the stench of wet ash and melted plastic.

It was still hard to look at.

The inspector gestured for me to come under the tape and I stepped over the line and into what was left of the gym.

My boots crunched on broken glass, chips of brick, and melted black rubber. The air was colder inside, which felt like a juxtaposition, but the fire had taken the roof, leaving it open to the sky. Water dripped from buckled steel beams, creating dark puddles on the concrete.

The inspector walked towards the far wall, his own steps grinding through the rubble. I followed. This was where the weight area used to be. Now it was just a pile of twisted metal, unrecognisable lumps of iron fused together by the intense heat.

“The source seems to be over here,” he said, pointing with a gloved hand towards the corner where Gary’s office had been. “Accelerant was used. Whoever did it knew exactly where to hit to cause maximum damage.”

I said nothing. My gaze drifted to the front of the gym to the empty space near the entrance where my desk used to sit. There was nothing there now…just burnt floorboards and rubble.

“The heat was so intense it’s compromised the concrete slab in places,” the inspector continued, oblivious to my silence. “See those cracks?” He nudged a fissure in the floor with his steel-capped boot. “This whole structure is shot. It’ll have to come down.”

A complete loss.

“Did you have insurance?” the inspector asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t know. I was just the manager. You’d have to talk to the owner about that.”

He raised his eyebrows and wrote something on his clipboard. “I’m sorry. It seems like you really care about the place.”

“Thanks.” I attempted a smile. “At least now I know what’ll happen to my job and can move on…I guess.” I looked back at the burnt out gym. “Thanks for showing me around. I know you weren’t supposed to.”