Page 12 of Keep Your Guard Up
She held her hands up in surrender. “You’re crazy if you think I had any chance of somehow reversing what they did,” Marilyn laughed and sat on the grey loveseat. Gus saw her seated and immediately abandoned JJ in favour of snuggling up on the couch with Marilyn.
“Pussy-whipped traitor,” JJ sulked.
“Ah, I knew it would be this one she got rid of.” Marilyn pulled a file out of the rubbish bin next to Mari’s desk. “The most important one.”
Reaching out in front of her, she nodded her head for me to take the file.
I opened it, finding a multi-page handwritten letter from none other than Elijah Trevino—my fuckinghero.
“What is this?” I asked, lightly skimming through the pages.
JJ sat up, though his gaze stayed on the floor. “The last letter that the great Elijah Trevino wrote before he lost his damn mind.”
Any breath in my lungs whooshed out as my entire world slowed.Lost his mind?
“No need to be so crass, JJ dear.” Marilyn frowned. “Though he is right about it being the last letter he wrote.” She began softly stroking Gus’s fur, avoiding anyone’s gaze but his.
“I thought he just retired?” I could remember the day clear as ever. The commentators on UFL 430 had announced it during the break between fights. The tribute highlight reel they had played was incredible. All of the people in the pub I was in had been out of their seats, applauding, cheering, whistling, crying. Elijah Trevino had made history.
“He did, just not voluntarily.” Marilyn sighed, pushing her glasses up her slim nose. “Did you watch UFL 425?”
I nodded. UFL 425 had turned out to be Elijah’s last fight. The main event had been Elijah Trevino vs Dustin Spades. They’d beaten the absolutebrakesoff each other. Dustin Spades had come out with the decision, and Elijah Trevino could barely stand when they were announcing it. I remember one of his coaches, who I now recognise as Al, had been standing behind him to hold him upright.
“The damage he took in that fight sped up the process of something that was a long time coming,” she said cryptically.
I raised an eyebrow, urging her to continue.
“His team of doctors put him into a medically-induced coma for four days to allow his brain uninterrupted time to heal. The public doesn’t know about this, as Mari forged his signature for the procedure to go ahead.”
JJ loosed a breath, stood, and closed the office door.
“He wasn’t the same when he woke up—”
“But he wouldn’t be alive right now if they hadn’t put him under,” JJ interrupted, casting a pointed look Marilyn’s way.
“Anyways…” She returned the favour. “His decline happened quickly over a few months after he woke up. In his mind, he was still ready andwillingto continue fighting. But he just wasn’t the same after it took over.”
“After what took over exactly?” I asked softly, noting the tone of the room.
“The CTE,” JJ filled in after a moment of silence. “He’d have good days and bad days. Some days he would realise what was coming for him, and some days he would do training sessions as if he was in fight camp again.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and leaning back on my desk. He solemnly looked at me, the grief written all over him. The grief over a loved one who hadn’t passed but was no longer themselves. “We collectively put together a retirement statement after Mari and I found him trying to do a water cut in the sauna at two-thirty in the morning. Congratulations, you’re in on the secret now. A secret bigger than Santa Claus. Because this isn’t some magical story that makes children giddy and full of joy—this is reality here at Knock’s, man.”
“On one of hisgooddays, before he went away, he had his will changed. When he was no longer deemed clinically stable, Mari was to inherit the business. There was one condition—each staffmember, both current and future, was to be given a letter. He called it his legacy letter; and it’s the reason why we still have so many of the staff left after a period of … financial struggle.”
My eyes shot up to Marilyn’s. “Are you guys still strapped for cash?”
A string of plans began to unfold in my mind. I would have to head into Darlington Harbour early, but skim past the old Lakehouse Brewery so no one would spot me. Then I would hit the bank branch on the outskirts and—
She chuckled softly. “No, dear. We found a way.”
She patted Gus’s rear, signalling for him to hop down from the couch. Marilyn stood up slowly, Gus carefully watching her every move.
“Come on, boys. Let’s leave him to it.” She put a hand to JJ’s shoulder and turned him towards the door. “I want to hear all about the young lady you had coffee with this morning.”
“Well …”
I could practically hear JJ’s smirk.
“There wasn’t much coffee drinking, if you’re pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down.”
