Page 56 of Craving the Edge

CHAPTER 20

DECLAN

I stood in the doorway of my bedroom, watching Char sleep.

She lay on her side, facing away from me, buried under the doona. Her shoulders rose and fell with the slow, deep rhythm of proper sleep. Thank fuck for that. She hadn’t fought me when I’d insisted she come back here, just nodded numbly and let me lead her to the car.

At least she was getting some real rest after the complete shit show this morning had been. The fire at Fighter’s Edge was bad enough, but the story she’d laid out at the diner turned over in my head.

A father who walked out. A mother who drank herself into oblivion then pissed off to Bali. And a sister who promised a new life and then ghosted her from the other side of the planet.

It all made sense now. The walls she kept up. The way she flinched from anything that looked like commitment. Every person she’d had a right to count on had decided everything but her was more important. Alcohol, a city on the other side of the world, a fucking yoga retreat in Bali. Bali? I wanted to punch the wall it was so goddamned selfish.

But I wasn’t any better. I’d gone and done the exact same thing.

I was a complete arsehole. There was no other word for it. Keeping the scan results from her, the Sydney fight. I’d told myself it was to protect her, to buy us a little more time before I had to go and perform again, but that was bullshit. I was protecting myself. I was scared that if she knew I was leaving, she’d cut me loose before I even had my bags packed. So I lied. I’d lied so well, I’d even convinced myself. I hadn’t realised it until she’d called me out.

Fear had made me do a real stupid thing. I should’ve just told her the truth.

I went into the living room, grabbed the remote from the coffee table, and turned on the TV.

A sports panel show flickered to life, two blokes in cheap suits yelling about footy. I turned the sound down so it wouldn’t reach the bedroom and sank onto the couch. I stared at the screen, which became nothing but a blur of bright green grass and team colours. My mind was a mess of logistics. Two weeks until Sydney. Training. Media commitments. An entire training schedule that’d just been torched.

My phone buzzed on the glass tabletop, the vibration irritating as hell. It was Rhys, who was probably melting down over the fire. I let it ring out. A minute later, it rang again. I ignored it again, my jaw tightening. When it went off for a third time, anger shot through me. I snatched it up, ignored the call, and fired off a text.

I know about Fighter’s Edge. Fuck off.

I hit send before I could second-guess it. A moment later, a reply came through.

Declan, that’s not my concern. We have to talk logistics. Flights. Accommodation. Your entire training schedule is compromised.

He was all business as usual. I smashed out a furious reply.

Stop stressing. The fight is going ahead. I’m helping Char. It’s not your business. I need a break from the constant bullshit. Just give me today.

I tossed the phone onto the opposite cushion. The screen remained dark. The commentators on the TV kept yelling.

I finally had some silence.

My phone lit up again. My first thought was that Rhys was having another crack, but Tomas’ name appeared on the screen.

Just saw the news about Fighter’s Edge. You good?

I typed back a one-handed reply.

Yeah. I’ve got Char here with me. She’s pretty shaken up.

The three dots appeared instantly. A new message bubbled up a second later.

You sure you know what you’re doing, Dec? You’re not just making things more complicated?

I read his text. I was so sick of everyone asking if I was sure, like I was some dumb kid who couldn’t make an adult decision on his own. I dropped the phone onto the couch cushion next to me, screen down.

The muted flicker of the television did nothing to distract me. My brain went straight back to the brutal maths of the situation. The Sydney fight was in two weeks. With the gym gone, I needed a new facility. I needed to be on a plane tomorrow…or the day after, at the latest, to keep my training on track. Every single day mattered at this stage.

But how could I walk out on her now? I glanced towards the bedroom door. Her entire world had just been gutted right in front of her. Leaving felt like a low blow, but I had obligations I couldn’t walk away from.

A soft sound from the hallway cut through my thoughts and I looked up.