Page 59 of Craving the Edge

“No problems.” He paused, as if he was thinking of saying something else, but he just shook his head and put his pen in the breast pocket of his coat. “Alright. I’m done here.”

I nodded and the inspector left, the shell of Fighter’s Edge my only company.

I could go to Sydney.

It was a reckless, stupid idea. What would I even do there? Declan would be busy with press commitments, final medical checks, and an intense training schedule to help him compensate for his injured hand. I’d be waiting around the whole time.

The paparazzi shots had only just disappeared. Arriving in Sydney on his arm would ignite it all again. The ‘mystery brunette’ would be back, as fresh fodder for all the gossip columns. Rhys would have an aneurysm if I showed up at the airport.

The real problem wasn’t the media. It was the weight cut. The final days before a fight were a fighter’s private hell. Dehydrated, starving, and stripped down to pure misery. My presence would be a disruption, a complication he couldn’t afford when a world title shot was at stake. I could be the reason he lost.

But the alternative was staying here, in Melbourne, unemployed, broke, and trying to find another job in the worst job market since the Global Financial Crisis.

Maybe two weeks away from all that reality was exactly what I needed. It’d give me time to figure out what I wanted to do next, and what this thing with Declan really was before it had a chance to burn out, too.

But Declan had shown up. He sat with me in that diner and held my hand while I fell apart. He didn’t run. For the first time, someone didn’t just walk away when things got hard.

He said he needed me. Me, Charlotte Judge, the person nobody wanted. Being there for the most important moment of his career mattered more than my instinct to stay hidden. He’d done more for me in the past few weeks than either of us realised.

If we wanted more, to make this thing between us work, then it was my turn to support him, especially now he was dealing with his hand injury.

I turned away from the ruin of the gym, my phone already in my hand. I was about to call Declan when the sound of a sputtering engine made me look up.

Gary’s beat-up Falcon ute chugged into the car park, pulling into a space and shuddering to a stop. He climbed out and I realised my eyebrows at the sight of him. His face was pasty grey, like he hadn’t slept in weeks. When saw me standing there, his shoulders sagged.

This ought to be fucking good, I thought.

Gary trudged over, unable to make eye contact. “Char,” he mumbled. “Jesus. I’m so sorry.”

I waited, saying nothing.

“I only just heard. I was…away. These blokes…it doesn’t matter.” He finally looked at me, his eyes bloodshot and watery. “I tried with the insurance, I swear. But the policy…there was a mix-up with the payments.”

“There’s no insurance.” It wasn’t a question.

“The premium lapsed because of the mix up…”

“A mix-up?” His excuse was so pathetic, the only thing I could do was laugh. “You useless piece of shit.”

Gary flinched, his eyes darting around the ruined car park as if looking for an escape route.

“Don’t you dare stand there and feed me that bullshit,” I spat, stepping towards him. “There was no mix-up. You took the money just like you took all the other money. Four years, Gary. Four years I ran this place for you. I paid the bills you forgot, I smoothed over the suppliers you pissed off, I did the books you were too lazy or too pissed to even look at. I made this place profitable and for what? So you could piss it all up against a wall and then run off and hide as the place fucking firebombed?”

“Char, I’m sorry. I⁠—”

“You’re sorry?” I cut him off, my voice dangerously low. “Those people you owe money to, do you think they cared who was inside when they lit the match? I could’ve been in there.” I jabbed a finger towards the blackened shell of the gym. “Your lazy, pathetic decisions could’ve gotten me killed!”

He shook his head, his hands raised in a useless plea. “I swear, I never thought⁠—”

“No, you didn’t think. You never do!” I felt no satisfaction, just searing rage. “I don’t want your apologies. I don’t give a fuck about your regrets. You’re a worthless, selfish, piece of shit, and I hope I never see your face again.”

I took another step closer, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. “The police are looking for you, you know. The arson squad. They seem to think whoever lit this place up had a pretty good reason to.”

Gary paled.

“I hope they dig a little deeper than the fire. I hope they find out exactly who you owe money to and why. I hope it all comes out.”

My phone vibrated in my hand. I glanced down. Declan. My thumb swiped to answer without a second thought.