Page 167 of Repairing the Wreckage

“You certainly seemed to have strong opinions about the outcome of Naptime vs. Stonewall,” Matt says.

Footage is shown of Underhill attacking the ref after my fight with Naptime. Damn, their brawl was worse than I thought.

“Well, I did, Matthew,” Underhill says in his best I’ll fuck you up tone. “Frankly, Stonewall was robbed. He should’ve won that fight.”

“Fuck you!” Naptime shouts. “You’re a loser and your boy’s a loser.” He points at me and I wave back with my middle finger.

Molly sits up, like she’s ready to pounce on Naptime if he comes any closer. I rest my arm against her leg, subtly pushing her back into her seat.

Even though she must have a thousand questions and she’s probably not too happy with me right now, my girl’s first instinct is to jump to my defense.

I hope she finally realizes that none of this noise matters. Not the show. Not the car or what she did to it. Nothing.

We have always been unbreakable.

CHAPTER FORTY

Griff

Am I finally free of Supreme Underground Fighter? It’s consumed my life—almost ruined my life—for months.

Hours later, we’re finally free to leave the studio.

It’s like a huge weight lifting off my shoulders.

Diane—now sporting blue hair instead of the pink she had when she conned me into this ring of ridiculousness—stands next to our car in the chilly evening air.

She holds out her hands in an appeasement gesture as we approach. “I know things weren’t perfect, but you have to admit I was right.”

I wrap my arm around Molly’s shoulders. “About what? Blowing up my life?”

Diane still seems confused by our lack of enthusiasm. She must have lived too long in her reality TV bubble. Her gaze slides to Molly. “You look like you’re doing okay.”

“Yes, I thoroughly enjoyed having strangers on the Internet call me dumb, slutty, or a combination of the two. It was the highlight of my summer. Then coming here and being physically attacked by an unhinged lunatic was fantastic,” Molly says. “Thanks for making me sign that release form. I really appreciate it,” she adds with generous dose of sarcasm.

Diane’s shoulders slump. Is that a sign she actually feels some remorse? “I didn’t have anything to do with that.” She lifts her gaze and looks me in the eyes. “You know I left shortly after the show started.” She glances toward the door we just came out of. “The ladies and romantic aspect weren’t a part of the show when I asked you to sign on.”

That actually helps me hate her less.

“It really was supposed to be about fighting and training together in a closed environment. All the knockouts, antics, and brawls between the fighters was supposed to be the entertainment, not romance or dating.”

Hating her a bit more now. “You realize paying us a bonus each time we knocked each other unconscious is fucking psychotic, right?”

“Only if we’d told you that ahead of time.” She chuckles. “It’s a show about fighting,” she says as if I’m dense.

Maybe I am. “Fighting in the ring. Not knocking each other out over who stole someone’s French fries.”

“Well, from what I saw, you conducted yourself with integrity throughout the whole season.” She vaguely gestures toward the studio again. “I think that’s why you were the fan favorite, even though Naptime supposedly ‘won.’”

At least she seems bitter about that too. “So you know it was rigged?”

“Rigged isn’t the right word.” She shakes her head. “And based on the audience reaction, you came out on top, no matter what the judges decided.”

When I don’t agree with her assessment, she shrugs. “I’m sorry it wasn’t the experience you expected. But you did end up winning money.” She nods at Molly. “For your future. That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Yes,” I answer but can’t quite bring myself to add a thank you.

“I think you’ll navigate the newfound celebrity well. You’re not going to be out there making an ass out of yourself like so many others I’ve worked with.”

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