Page 64 of Mean Machine

“Well, he’s bankrolling me until I can pay him back. The next Thorne fight should solve my money problems, shouldn’t it?”

“Oh, yes.” Cash nodded. “Has Thorne already agreed?”

“We talked on the phone after the fight, but yes, he has, in principle. He promised me a rematch, and I want to get it all squared away before he realises he’s in for a world of pain.” Brooklyn pointed at the stew with his spoon. “This is so good.”

Cash folded his hands over his bowl and rested his chin on top. “You’re staying in boxing?”

“Yes. But this time I want some of that money.” Brooklyn leaned forward. “I can’t quit. I don’t want to quit. I have… people to take care of. And it’s not like anybody’s going to hire me for anything else. No. I promised Thorne the fight, he’ll get his fight, and I get paid.”

Cash exchanged a glance with Marina. Brooklyn had seen her a few times at fights, in the seats reserved for VIPs and special guests, so he assumed she knew about boxing. You probably couldn’t be married to Cash for something like twenty years or so without knowing a thing or two. “It’s only right, my boy. It’s not like your last few fights were easy.”

“You’re worried?”

“Thorne is very strong, and I would never have believed he can go the full twelve rounds at his age and weight. I’m worried that you’ll get hurt.”

Despite himself, Brooklyn gave a laugh. “I rather get paid to get hurt by Thorne than not getting paid to be hurt by Curtis.” He shook his head. “I promised him a rematch, and I need the money. I just need to keep with what Santos said: Don’t get hit.”

Cash nodded as if things were that simple, but he probably agreed that getting hurt was part of the job that made them all money. “How are you doing otherwise?”

“I’m still getting the hang of it.” Brooklyn took a mouthful of water. “It’s strange to have no schedule.” It was unnerving, especially since he didn’t have friends left he could have called to meet at the pub. Everybody he knew these days was tied one way or other into the boxing circuit. And he shied away from reconnecting to all those who’d washed their hands of him. That included Shelley; no point in deluding himself about that. There was nothing left for him there; he knew that now, after that dreadful, sad, pathetic last meeting.

“Where are you going to live?”

Brooklyn waved the question off. “The reason I’m here….” He noticed Marina lingering in the doorway to the kitchen, a silent, watchful presence. “I got nobody else I trust, Cash.”

Cash frowned attentively.

“Would you consider becoming my manager?” It was a breathless rush of words, and felt not that much different from proposing to his wife.

Cash looked shocked at first, then smiled. “How do you mean? Manage you exclusively?”

“Yeah. I’ll need someone who runs the team, finds me a new trainer, and negotiates everything. Right now, it’s all too much.”

“I’d have to quit working for ISU.”

“Yeah.” Brooklyn swallowed. “I’d make it worth your while, I promise. You’d make a tidy sum from the next fight, and I want that to happen as soon as possible.”

Cash’s face lit up. “That keen to get back into the ring, eh?”

Brooklyn shrugged. “Not this week, but maybe next.” He had to live, train, spar, eat, get ready, get advice. He needed a team for that, and all without a penny to his name. He might be able to pull in some money with interviews and exclusives, considering he’d been pardoned by an act of the Queen herself. The press would be all over that. His stomach coiled like a wounded python.

Cash regarded him fondly. “All right. I take twenty-five percent. You’ll have to pay ten percent to a trainer. All that after tax on any purse. I can get you the rest of the crew and pay them out of expenses.”

A weight lifted off Brooklyn’s shoulders. “You’d do that?”

“Yes.” Cash reached out and patted Brooklyn’s shoulder. “I expect a big cheque from ISU for your last fight. What about this—I’ll take you back to your hotel, you check out, and Marina meanwhile sets you up in the guest bedroom? And don’t worry about anything else. If we do get the Thorne fight, I’ll hold your costs against your expected purse and make the money back from that.”

“If he backs out?”

“We’ll worry about that when we get there.”

Now Marina approached with bowls of fruit salad for dessert, which she set down on the table. When she walked past him to get to her seat, she brushed Brooklyn’s shoulder. “We’ll take care of you.”

Brooklyn swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. He knew Cash and Marina were an on-again, off-again couple. As lovely and harmonious as they appeared now, there were apparently also blazing rows and near-divorces, though currently they seemed like the safest haven he could hope for.

Marina placed her hand on Brooklyn’s arm. “Don’t worry none about any of it, sweetheart. You’re part of the family now.”

And for all the horror that “family” had meant in his previous life, it still brought tears to his eyes, and he wiped his face quickly and tried to hide it, because he wouldn’t start crying in this sunlight-flooded house surrounded by two of the few good, kind people in his life.

---