Page 53 of Fighting the Forbidden

But the idea of winning a pot of money big enough to fund Molly’s college education slices through my hesitation like an axe kick.

Diane switches into serious mode again. “You’d have to be away from home for up to eight weeks to film the show.”

“Two months?” Shit. That’s a long time.

“We’d pay you a small daily stipend to cover whatever you miss from work. No matter where you end up in the competition.”

I might not have a job to come home to if I’m gone for eight weeks. Mr. Nelson is patient, but summer and fall are always busy at the garage. On the other hand, he’s close to retiring and keeps hinting at how much he’d like me to buy the garage when he’s ready to call it quits.

If I win this show, the money could be for Molly’s future and mine. It could give us the start in life that neither of our families have provided.

“What do you think?” Diane prompts when I’ve been silent for too long. “You could transform this into other opportunities. You’re a good-looking kid, Griff. Got panty-melter and heartbreaker written all over your insolent face and bad-boy swagger.”

“Uh, thanks.” I side-eye her. “I have a girlfriend.”

“Slow your roll, kid.” She snorts. “I’m not interested. But our audience, our sponsors, and other industry folks would definitely snap you up.”

“I’m not a professional fighter.” The places and reasons I learned to fight would make this woman’s pretty pink hair curl.

“No shit, kid. We’re not looking for professionals. And we don’t give a fuck if the only fighting you do is underground. Hell, it adds to the mystery. As long as you stay out of trouble from the time you sign your contract until after the show airs, it’s all good.”

I glance around the gym, as if searching for answers in the weights and machines. “Give me some time to think about it?” Thank God, my voice comes out steady despite the turmoil rolling through me. “A time frame and dollar amount of the daily stipend would be nice too.”

Diane nods, her fierce expression melting into something with more understanding. “Of course. I can email you those details and give you a month to decide. Then we need to start the pre-show prep.”

“What’s that entail?”

“Some interviews. Background checks. Psychological evaluations. All routine stuff. Some things you’ll have to come down to the city for. We’ll pay for the train ticket. Others we can arrange locally. I can tell you more once you’ve signed a contract and confidentiality agreements.”

“Contract?”

“Of course.”

Background check. My juvenile record should be sealed. Not that it sounds like it matters. Psych eval? Haven’t been through one of those since I was a teenager getting tossed around the criminal justice system. Can’t say I enjoyed the experience or ever want to repeat it.

This would be different, though. It’d be my choice. And for a purpose.

“I can tell you’re a fighter.” Diane taps her fist over her chest. “I don’t mean in a cage. I mean in life. You haven’t had anything handed to you.”

It’s not a question, so I don’t bother agreeing or disagreeing with her statement. Besides, she’s right.

“This could be a chance to level up,” she continues. “I’m not saying it will change your life, but it could help you finally get ahead.”

Get ahead? I’ve been trying to keep my head above water my whole life. What would getting ahead even feel like?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Molly

After school, Griff’s waiting right outside the back entrance. His large, towering frame is hard to miss among the swarm of kids racing toward freedom. I lift my hand and wave, pushing through the wall of bodies to reach him.

“What’re you doing here?”

He hands me a helmet. “You’re working today, right? Thought I’d give you a ride.”

“Thanks.” If Remy or Griff are busy, I have to take two buses to get to my after-school job. Sometimes, I’ll ask Hayden to drop me off if she’s going that way, but our conversation earlier in the week left an unpleasant taste in my mouth. I’d rather walk the extra miles than ask her for a favor right now.

“I’m really happy to see you.” In fact, this is the best part of my whole day.

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