Page 6 of Thawed Gladiator: Victor

Pushing past him into the cabin’s musty interior, I notice what must be a translation device on the kitchen counter—it looks like a hearing aid, sleek and expensive-looking, nothing like the knockoff tech Dad usually deals in. “Where is he?”

“Back bedroom. Sleeping, I think. He’s still pretty weak from… everything.”

The pause tells me there’s more he’s not saying. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He tugs at his collar, a nervous tell I’ve known since childhood. “About that. There’s something I maybe didn’t mention on the phone.”

“You mean besides the dead body and the world’s most famous stolen gladiator?” The bitterness in my voice could strip paint.

“I… I knew what Keller was doing. Before.” The words tumble out like coins from a broken slot machine. “He told me the whole story. About Roth attacking one of the thawed gladiators, giving Keller the distraction he needed to steal this frozen guy. Said we just had to keep him safe and contact some big pharma guys, and they would have a bidding war. They all want to experiment on him, gather the secrets his body holds. He’s two thousand years old and still alive. Baby, that’s worth a lot of money.”

My stomach tightens with a lurch. I don’t know what’s more disturbing, how much trouble my dad is in, or what these big pharma guys want to do to whatever… whoever is on the other side of the bedroom door.

“You knew. The whole time.” My hands clench into fists. “That’s why you didn’t just call the police when Keller died. You could have blamed everything on him and gotten away with a slap on the wrist. Why didn’t you just do the right thing for once in your life?”

“Because…” He can’t meet my eyes. “Because I thought maybe I could make some money. I always told you, someday my ship would come in. Keller said he didn’t actually have to be revived for pharma to want him. He was just going to move the pod to another storage unit, plug him in, and keep him frozen. But when Keller died, and the guy woke up and I could see him getting stronger every day, I got this brilliant idea. The fight game’s changing, baby. Underground circuits, private matches—you know how much people would pay to see a real Roman gladiator?”

“Are youinsane?”The words come out in a whisper that feels like a scream. “Do you have any idea what they’ll do to you when they find him?”

“Well, I figured I was too smart for them to find me.” There’s that familiar shrug he’s always thought absolves him from all responsibility. He said a black SUV was following him and he doesn’t even have the decency to act sheepish.

“I had it all figured out. I ditched the van and wheeled the pod off a cliff hundreds of miles from here. There was a sack of cash in the van that was probably part of the payment for Keller, so I bought an old car with the cash. It’s hidden out back. I told the gladiator I’m his new master, that his ship got blown off course. He doesn’t even know what year it is.”

The nausea hits so hard that I grip the kitchen counter. “You’re telling me you’re pretending toowna two-thousand-year-old man? Dear god, Dad. Just when I think you couldn’t sink any lower, you do this. How long do you think you can keep the two of you hidden?”

“He seems… content. Hasn’t asked a lot of questions. He’s used to having a master. And I’m treating him good—got him those protein shakes you recommend to your fighters, letting him rest up…”

“I’m leaving.” My legs carry me toward the door of their own accord. “I’m not getting involved in this.”

“Wait!” Real panic edges his voice now. “There’s more. I’m… I’m pretty sure Roth’s guys found my place in Vegas already. Tore it apart looking for something. They’re not the kind of people who just let things go.”

My hand freezes on the doorknob. Outside, my truck sits waiting, keys still in the ignition. One turn of the key and I could drive away from this mess, from the endless cycle of my father’s bad decisions.

Instead, I find myself turning around.

Not for him. Not this time. But somewhere in this cabin is a man who’s been ripped from everything he knows, who’s being lied to and manipulated by people who see him as nothing but a payday. A man who, if his past was truly that of a gladiator from two millennia ago, has already endured horrors most of us can’t begin to imagine.

“Show meeverything,” I say. “The devices, any papers Keller had, everything you took. And then you’re going to tell me exactly what kind of trouble is coming for us.”

Dad’s relief is palpable, but for once, I don’t let it touch me, don’t let him sweet talk me, don’t let him try to convince me this is all for the best. I’m not doing this for him. I’m doing it because somewhere in this mess, there has to be a way to make things right—for everyone except the people who deserve what’s coming to them.

“Look,” Dad says, running his hands through his already disheveled hair. “I’ve been thinking. You’re a trainer. One of the best. What if we—”

“You already said that, which made me almost walk out that the front door.”

“Just hear me out! You could train him. Get him back in fighting shape. There’s good money in the underground circuit, and with a genuine Roman gladiator…” His eyes take on that familiar gleam that always meant trouble, a new scheme that somehow was always a lot of trouble that netted no money. “We could make enough to disappear. All of us.”

I want to scream, to shake him, to make him understand the magnitude of what he’s done. Instead, I hear myself say, “Fine. I’ll help with his recovery.”

Dad heaves a relieved sigh “I knew you’d understand—”

Before he can continue, I cut him off. “I’m not doing it for you and I’m not training him for the ring. I’m doing it to keep him alive while I figure out how to fix this mess.”

If I call the authorities now, there’s so much dirty money involved that I might be tossing him straight from the frying pan into the fire. I can’t do it. As much as he has failed me, he’s still my dad and I can’t be the one who puts him in jail.

Dad’s not paying attention. He’s already lost in his schemes, talking about contracts and percentages, while I silently promise myself—and the man in the other room—that I’ll find a way to make this right. Just not yet. Not until I understand exactly what I’m dealing with.

Chapter Six

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