Page 8 of Repairing the Wreckage

“How you were mad at yourself for not trying harder and you didn’t know how you were going to explain it to Molly.”

I’m too stunned to speak. What the fuck did they do? Put words in my mouth? Fake shit?

Then it hits me.

The fight with Hammer Fists that didn’t seem to have a clear winner.

“What’d I look like in that interview?”

“Sweaty.”

“‘Cause I just went a few rounds with Hammer Fists.”

“That big fucker? So what? You’re faster than him. And you don’t lose fights.”

“I’ve never gone up against a fighter like him. Yeah, he’s slow but he’s fucking strong. He could’ve cleaned my clock if they’d let us finish the fight.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t finish the fight?”

“Have they shown me going up against him yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, that’s what I was upset about in the interview. There didn’t seem to be a clear winner. I was worried I might get sent home and I didn’t know how the fuck I’d explain that to Molly. I came here, spent all this time away from her, and then lost right away. I was fucking embarrassed, not feeling guilty about cheating on Molly.”

Remy curses and there’s a crash in the background.

“They really didn’t show that fight?” I ask.

“Not yet. Just that guy Bear Trap and that annoying sleepy dude.”

No wonder I haven’t been sent home. They’re fixing the show in several different ways. “Christ, this is more rigged than I thought.”

“Shit, Griff.” Remy sighs. “I’m sorry.”

An apology from Remy—don’t hear those often. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I never should’ve done this. I thought it was a quick, easy way to get some serious cash, but I should’ve known better.” If my life has taught me anything it’s that there’s no shortcut to success. Only lots of hard work, pain, blood, and sweat. I close my eyes and grit my teeth.

Just once I wanted to get ahead.

“Griff, you’ve been hustling and working hard your whole damn life. We know plenty of fighters who’ve made careers out of similar situations. It wasn’t a bad idea.” Oh, sure, now Remy’s full of pep talks. “We should’ve prepared better. I shouldn’t have let Molly watch the show. She just wanted to support you.”

Of course she did. “Molly knows I love her and I’d never cheat on her.” As the words pour out of my mouth, I realize they might not be true. I had a reputation before her. We hadn’t been together as a couple long before I took off. She’s so damn young. Inexperienced. Unsure of herself and how much she means to me.

If these fucking producers edited the footage a certain way…yeah, the longer we’re apart, the more I can see her doubting everything.

“She was rattled,” Remy says.

“Where is she now?” I ask again.

“I don’t know. I talked to her before she went to bed but when Jerry called me this morning, I realized she was gone.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I could fucking murder Remy right now. “You’re busting my balls when you should be out looking for her?”

“Don’t you dare fucking yell at me. What was I supposed to do?”

“Turn off the television and tell her I’d never cheat on her. Be my fucking friend. Act like her big brother. I don’t fucking know. Anything but let her go off thinking I betrayed her, you fucking asshole! She’s been out all night, and you don’t know where she is?”

“She’s eighteen! What the fuck am I supposed to do, put a bell around her neck? She snuck out. I thought she was asleep.”

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