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high and lows are really low. One day you’ll be living large, and the next day you could be considered a joke. That’s why so many professional fighters end up abusing drugs, but my dad maintained an extensive drug testing program that we were subject to as soon as we started training in his gym.”
    “Oh, he was a tricky, tricky man,” Genie told him. “He let y’all feel grown up while making sure you stayed clean, ha!”
    “Yep. Parents are sneaky,” he agreed. “But once we were old enough to be a part of the party scene, Weave was already close to becoming the next big thing and every up and comer wanted a piece of him in order to make a name for themselves. He was hounded everywhere he went, but he got to be pretty good at exchanging insults and cooling tempers. None of us really noticed how heavily he was drinking in order to withstand the pressure, but it was pretty much twenty-four seven, and you couldn’t tell the difference anymore whether he was drunk or sober. One night we were in this little redneck dive, not unlike the one we were in six months ago, and this kid, who looked to be around eighteen, started talking shit. Weave blew him off time and time again, but this kid, he just wouldn’t let it go. When he couldn’t draw Weave into a fight, he just sort of blew up, and the whole bar ended up exploding into this huge brawl. I didn’t see the whole thing, but this kid ends up pulling a knife and attacking Bob, mistaking him for Weave. He stabbed Bob in the back and Weave just lost it. He threw himself on top of the guy and he beat the shit out of him. He was like a man possessed. Nobody could stop him, and the guy ended up dying a few days later, from internal injuries.”
    Genie started to say something but Shannon wasn’t finished. “Came to find out it was a sixteen year old boy who used a fake I.D. to get in the door.”
    Genie’s eyes fell closed at his words. “I take it Weave was drinking that night.”
    “Heavily,” Shannon admitted. “But it was as if he took a vow of unhappiness or something the moment he found out. He never touched another drop of alcohol, which is a good thing, but he doesn’t allow himself anything. He walked away from fighting altogether, and, as far as I know, he hasn’t touched another woman either, not until you. You see, you are special, and Weave would hate me if he knew that I told you that story.” With a snort, he brushed his fingers across his blackened eye. “Well hate me more .”
    The phone was ringing as Shannon came through the door, and he tossed his bag inside, making a run for it. He snatched it up. “Hello?”
    “I wanted to make sure you made it home safely.”
    He smiled at the sound of Genie’s voice. “Yeah, I just came through the door. My flight was delayed twice, and I was beginning to think I’d never make it home. Hold on a second,” dropping the phone to his side he stretched out across the couch, grumbling loudly as he went. Once settled, he pressed the phone back to his ear and Genie was chuckling. “Okay. I’m back.”
    “What was that?”
    “I had to lie down. I swear I feel like I’ve been sent through the wringer and back. I’m working here and there, plus I’ve taken over some of my dad’s workload since he’s semi-retired now. I’m exhausted,” he tacked on, trying to sound as pitiful as possible.
    “You should take a few days off and do nothing. Kick back with your feet up and say ‘screw you’ to the rest of the world.”
    She painted a tempting picture except for one detail. “Sounds lonely,” he admitted.
    “I guess it does,” she agreed. “So come back to Texas and stay with me. We could lounge around all day eating junk food. Nobody would even know where to find you.”
    He groaned again, this time in temptation. He could see it in his mind—no phone calls or paperwork just Genie and him sitting around in their pajamas, only that’s where the image changed. Instead of spending a few lazy