“How are things between you and Piper?”
His friend shrugged. “Unlike popular belief, divorce doesn’t have to be horrible. We have a great relationship, I like her husband, and he loves Skylar. He doesn’t try to take my place or step on my toes, and he leaves the parenting to me and Piper. So I think I got a pretty good deal.”
The more Lance talked, the more Mac’s tension eased. If distraction helped, he’d make sure to keep him talking.
“That’s great. If anyone could make a divorce work, it’s you two.”
“There’s still love there, man. Just not love. I guess that’s what happens when you marry right out of high school. We grew up together, then grew apart together. There’re no hard feelings, the shit just happened. As a result, Skylar gets two parents who can be in the same room together and honestly like each other.”
Lance veered right, off the main street running parallel to the town of Cheney, onto a dirt road. A few seconds later, he turned onto a long, gravel driveway leading to a large two-story farmhouse. He pointed to a wooden barn behind it. “I have a home gym setup in there. With my schedule, it’s hard for me to get out to a training facility daily, but I have to train, even if the only time I can find is at two in the morning. It’s a rough setup, but it gets the job done.”
“You got to do what you got to do, man,” Mac muttered. No one knew that better than he did. It was why he’d left in the first place.
“With your help, I hope to be ready for the fight in six weeks. There’re supposed to be some big-name promoters from Cage Match Championship there. If I can get CMC to notice me, I’ll be golden.”
Mac hid a grimace. At thirty-six, Lance’s chance of getting into the top dog of Mixed Martial Arts was slim to none. Though he’d give the guy credit— he never gave up on his dream, even if he’d had to postpone working toward it for a few years.
His friend parked the truck, and Mac climbed out, surveying the area. After being in the hustle and bustle of Atlanta, the endless expanse of land before him was almost overwhelming—made him feel like a walking target. He fucking hated it. “You really went for isolated, didn’t you? There wasn’t a part of you that wanted to live in, say…a neighborhood?”
Lance chuckled. “I did, actually. For Skylar. But I couldn’t pass up this house. I got a killer deal. I would’ve never been able to afford a place like this if it hadn’t been in foreclosure. The house needed a ton of work but, since I spent years working construction with Dad, I knew I could fix it up.”
Looking at the house now, Mac would never have known it’d ever needed work. Soft sage siding made the white trim and shutters stand out. The gigantic wraparound porch was decorated with potted plants and hanging baskets, with a wicker seating area, and a porch swing. Lance had sown grass around the perimeter of the house so there was a large, lush lawn that stood out against the dried-out land surrounding them. The flower beds were filled with hostas, boxwood shrubs, and pansies. Cozy. A home. Easily destroyed.
He shook away the thought.
“You’ve been busy.”
“You know me. I can’t sit still. Always got to be doing something.”
He did know that. Lance had the energy of ten men. His inability to just relax had been one of the problems he’d had with Piper.
“Surprisingly, I love it out here,” Lance continued. “Skylar loves it out here. And if I had moved anywhere else, I wouldn’t have meet Gayle.”
“Gayle? She a new girlfriend?”
“Nah, man. It’s not like that.” Lance pointed to one of only two houses in the distance—another two-story farmhouse, but with white siding and black shutters. Though the house was beside Lance’s, it sat farther back off the road and was at least a good five minute walk away. Talk about privacy. Sheesh. “She moved in about six months ago. She helps me with Skylar when I get a call. She’s never bothered about the time, either.”
“You still repo’ing, then?”
“And towing, jimmying locked doors. The life of a single dad, bro. Skylar comes first. I can’t fight as much as I want. The little I bring in is a nice bonus but, with you here, I can get in a little quality training and hopefully knock those promoters’ socks off.” His friend slapped him on the shoulder as they started toward the house. “It’d be nice to get out of the smaller circuit. I’m only averaging about a grand a fight right now. Because of my schedule, I’ve only been able to do one every other month or so. Can’t make a living like that.”
“How’s your record?”
“Won the last five consecutive fights, hence the grand payouts. Overall record is 12 to 2.”
“Pretty good. Have they already slotted you against your opponent?”