Chapter 4 - What Jake Carried Into The Hallway
I found Jake behind the warm-up cages.
He was wrapping his hands even though his division wouldn't start for hours.
Busy hands.
Old trick.
“Denver.”
He stopped.
Didn't look up.
“What about it?”
“Leah says you got a deal.”
His shoulders lowered.
“Of course she does.”
“Was she wrong?”
“No.”
He tore the wrap loose and started again.
I waited.
Finally:
“My opponent in Denver was a guy named Chris Nolan.”
“I remember.”
“You remember I won.”
“Yes.”
“You remember how?”
I thought.
Walkover.
Nolan withdrew before weigh-ins.
“Mason said food poisoning.”
Jake laughed once.
“Sure.”
“What happened?”
Jake sat on the bench.
“Nolan's gym needed two spots in a summer camp Mason helped staff.”
I closed my eyes.
Same pattern.
“Did Mason make him withdraw?”
“No.”
“Jake.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Nolan had a rib injury. He could've fought. His coach didn't want him to.”
“And Mason offered something that made the decision easier.”
“Yes.”
“In your favor.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know?”
“Not until after.”
“What did you do?”
Jake looked at me.
“I said thank you.”
The answer was brutally ordinary.
I didn't know what to do with it.
He continued:
“I was twenty-five. Broke. Coming off two losses. I needed a win.”
“So you didn't ask questions.”
“I asked one.”
“What?”
“Whether Nolan was actually hurt.”
“And Mason?”
“Said yes.”
“Was he?”
“Yes.”
Again.
Nothing clean.
No paid dive.
No fake injury.
Just a coach learning where pressure could move people.
I leaned against the cage.
“What did you carry to Leah's coach?”
Jake's face hardened.
“A message.”
“Which was?”
“Mason wanted him to know he could recommend two fighters for the showcase.”
“In exchange.”
“He never said in exchange.”
“Come on.”
“I’m not defending him.”
“You keep correcting the wording.”
“Because wording is how we got here.”
He looked toward the arena.
“Mason learned he could change outcomes without ever saying change the outcome.”
That sentence stayed.
I asked:
“Why help him?”
Jake rubbed his forehead.
“Because after Denver, I owed him.”
“According to who?”
“Me.”
“Did he tell you?”
“No.”
“Then why—”
“Because he paid my rent for three months.”
I stopped.
Jake looked embarrassed.
“I tore my shoulder. Couldn't fight. Couldn't coach enough classes.”
“Mason helped.”
“Yes.”
“And then asked you to help with Leah.”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“Talk to her coach. Tell him about the showcase.”
“That's it?”
“That was enough.”
I looked at him.
“You knew what he was doing.”
“Yes.”
“Did Leah know you knew?”
“Probably.”
“Did I?”
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
At least there was that.
I asked:
“What happened last night?”
Jake looked toward the officials' corridor.
“You listened to twenty-eight seconds.”
“Yes.”
“Listen to more.”
“No.”
He looked surprised.
“I want you to tell me.”
He sighed.
“Mason found out Leah was here.”
“How?”
“He saw her during credentials.”
“And?”
“He panicked.”
“Why?”
“Because the current event committee is already asking questions about entry recommendations from the last few seasons.”
That was new.
“Why?”
“Another coach complained.”
“About Phoenix?”
“About three events.”
My stomach tightened.
“Which three?”
He looked at me.
“Phoenix is one.”
“St. Louis?”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
“And?”
“Denver.”
Of course.
Three stories.
Three withdrawals.
Three Reed Combat athletes advancing.
“Did Mason tell Leah to leave?”
“No.”
“What did he tell you?”
Jake stared at me.
“To ask her.”
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“That hanging around the arena would drag her sister into something ugly.”
My anger rose.
“That sounds like a threat.”
“It sounded like concern when I said it.”
He looked sick.
“That's the problem.”
“What did Leah do?”
“Told me to go to hell.”
Good.
“Then?”
“Mason got angry.”
“And called me.”
“He thought he was calling Nora.”
That stopped me.
“What?”
“He pulled his phone out. Hit the wrong contact.”
My number would have been near Nora's because we'd been discussing my entry all evening.
The voicemail wasn't intentional.
Mason didn't know he'd recorded himself for three minutes until morning.
“What does the rest say?”
Jake looked at my phone.
“Play it with Nora.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't want to tell you what I think it means and have that become what you hear.”
For once, Jake was doing something carefully.
I hated that it made me trust him a little.
Then I asked:
“Why did you say ‘Oh no’ when I mentioned it?”
His face changed.
“Because I knew what happens around minute two.”
“What happens?”
He looked at me.
“Mason says your name.”
“He says it in the first ten seconds.”
“Not like that.”
I waited.
Jake stood.
“Rachel, the part you're angry about isn't the worst part.”
“What is?”
May you like
He looked toward Mason across the arena.
“The part where he admits Phoenix wasn't for you.”
