Page 111 of 4th Degree

I have no idea how to convince them that I’m not some creepy old man going after a teenager without seeming like a creepy old man who’s just trying to defend his actions.

“Sir, all I’m asking for is five minutes of your time. Just let me say what I need to say, and then you can make your decision with all the necessary information, and I promise, I won’t contest it.”

For a second, I think I have him. I think he’ll let me at least say my piece, so at the very least I can feel like I tried.

But then he looks down at the papers in his hand, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Dominic. That’s just not appropriate.”

My stomach drops. I knew this was a long shot, but I thought…if they just heard why I did it…

“But it’s not what it looks?—”

“I promise we will make a fair decision based on facts, but we need to make that decision without your bias,” the president continues. “So please leave the room immediately. We’ll notify you of our decision as soon as it’s been made.”

I hang my head, all hope and all energy immediately deflating from my body. This is it. I lost.

Just then, a muted commotion sounds from behind the door I just blasted through. Everyone turns their attention toward the loud arguing outside of the conference room.

The doors open with another bang, and a furious Tristan steps through them. Behind him are Jax and Kane, and hidden behind the three large men, I can also make out Remy, Aiden, Max, and Lucy. Each of them wears their own expression of outrage.

The pale and terrified secretary beside Tristan is trying fruitlessly to keep the group out of the room. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Barton, I told them they couldn’t come in here, but?—”

“It’s alright, Samantha, I’ll handle this,” the president responds. Then he turns his focus to Tristan. “Mr. West, this is highly inappropriate behavior. Not to mention, this can only hurt your position in the UFC.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Barton, I couldn’t give a fuck about my position in the UFC. Not when you’re unfairly jeopardizing my coach’s place in it, too.”

The president raises an eyebrow. “Unfairly? May I remind you that this board has plenty of evidence to support the claims made. We’re not judging based on gossip.”

“You might as well be,” Jax interrupts. “Because none of what was said is true.”

Mr. Barton sighs. “Look, I appreciate what you all are trying to do. I respect your loyalty. But the fact of the matter is this board has decided that Dominic is no longer representing the organization in an appropriate manner?—”

“He’s exactly the kind of man you want representing your organization!”

Although the room was quiet before, Tristan’s outburst stuns it into a different kind of silence. His chest is heaving, his eyes are sparking, and he’s commanding everyone’s attention in a way that I’m proud to see.

He takes a deep breath, gathering that iron-clad control of his. His voice is more controlled when he speaks.

“That man is the best person in this entire city’s history of MMA. Forget how impressive his career was, and how good of a fighter he is, he’s the best man in this sport.” He takes turns making eye contact with every single person in the room. “You nominated him because of the mentoring he did while he was fighting, and the public fundraisers by his sponsors. Well, you have no idea how much more he does in private.

“He gives free private lessons to those who love this sport but can barely afford the membership, let alone the extra help. He gives jobs to those who need it. He provides mentoring to kids, teenagers, amateur fighters, literally anyone who needs the help. And none of it is for money. Do you know how many times I’ve tried to pay him extra for coaching me? And every time, the only way I win the argument is if I donate it to a charity for underprivileged city kids in his stead. But that’s not written on your little piece of paper, is it? Because he refuses to put his name on those. All of his contributions are anonymous.”

Hearing the way he’s standing up for me makes my chest tighten as I take a shaky breath. Tristan turns his attention back to the president at the head of the table. “That man is the best coach I’ve ever had, and the most honorable man I’ve ever known. He is exactly who you want representing your organization.”

To his credit, Mr. Barton looks properly chastised. But after a look around at his colleagues, it’s obvious he’s not quite convinced. “Look, son, I understand that you think highly of your coach. But one person isn’t enough to?—”

“He saved my life,” Kane interrupts.

Everyone’s focus zeroes in on the large, tattooed-from-the-neck-down man behind Tristan. His presence is foreboding as it is, but on top of that, Kane’s always been the silent one of their group, speaking only when he has to. So, when he does, everyone listens.

He doesn’t look thrilled to have everyone’s attention, but that doesn’t stop him.

“I’ve been kicked out of three gyms in two years. I was the worst type of student and fighter that no one wanted, and everyone treated me like trash because of it. Until Dominic.” He locks eyes with me. “He took a chance on me. He gave a shit about me that I didn’t deserve. And he saved my life because of it.” His attention shifts back to the president. “You don’t get to call him dishonorable. Because I’ve seen dishonorable men, and Dominic is not one of them.”

Suddenly, it becomes hard to breathe through the sting of tears. Taking Kane under my wing and helping him through a tough time in his life had been important to me, but I never expected anything from him. I was just happy to make a difference. I knew he was grateful, just from reading Kane’s body language in moments that others weren’t looking, but saying something like that out loud…

It makes my whole career worth it.

“He’s the best man I know,” Jax says quietly. And by now, everyone’s too stunned to do anything but listen. His eyes meet mine. “The best coach I’ve ever had, the best mentor I’ve ever learned from…the best friend. You have no idea how honored this organization should be to have someone like Dominic Caruso representing it.”

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