29. Ronan

With Chey's legal hurdle over, she's already given me the heads up that she's aiming to surmount another obstacle, one that I'm at the center of this time. One far more personal and far more crucial to both our futures.

That's why I'm not surprised when Chey walks into the locker room with her father in tow.

"Dad, c'mon, now, you said you would." Chey nudges her father up to me.

It's an awkward moment for all concerned. Standing again in front of Joseph, I steel myself once more. I'm not sure what's coming next, a handshake or a right cross.

Joseph walks up to me but stays out of my personal space. Good first step.

I smile. The old man smiles, too.

"Hello, Ronan. Chey is right for bringing me here today. She and I had a heart-to-heart about life, about her being her own woman, and about me letting go. I owe you a profuse apology about my behavior the other day. Forcing you to fight me like that, like it's the Stone Ages and I have to beat my chest to restore my manly pride. After hearing about you two, I simply lost my head. I know Chey is a grown woman and can lead her own life. I guess I just never thought of her as anything but my little girl. I really am sorry to both of you, two consenting adults who deserve to be treated with respect and agency."

My guard goes down, and with it, my shoulders. "I appreciate the gesture, sir and gladly accept the apology. As an orc, I see your side. Someday, I may become a father of a little girl, and in your shoes, I doubt I would be as disciplined." I chuckle and rub my neck.

Joseph chuckles, too, and rubs his neck. The two men understand each other with few words.

"Yes, that may be true. But I was a fool to listen to Marty. The guy always sees life as a water bottle half-empty. And after your partnership breakup, I should have known he'd have it out for you. The conniving little green sprout. Why I would assume you were hurting my daughter and that Marty was telling the truth is beyond me. I should have realized a professional would never lower himself to such lengths. How about you and I start all over again?"

"Done, sir. Only the future is ahead." I offer my hand.

I breathe a sigh of relief as we shake hands. It's like we're finding common ground, two generations of wrestlers. It's clear we both care so deeply for Cheyanne and only want only the best for her. Even if that leads to two manly beings going at it for dumb reasons.

Joseph and I look down at Chey, and she's smiling like I've never seen her smile before. It's a look of pride in both of us, and in herself, I think. It's like all three of us weathered an emotional storm and came through the other side better for it.

My mind races. I pray this means there's still a future with Fool's Gold. To my thinking, Joseph's franchise is the only one strong enough to compete against Raucous. And it's about time there was decent competition in this town. I hold my breath for what Joseph will say next.

We all take a seat around the locker room table. I raise my eyebrows at Chey, and she winks. Is that a good wink or a bad one? Is there such a thing as a bad wink? Geez, Ronan, focus, will you? The next few minutes might be life changers.

I watch as Joseph clasps his hands, looks down at the grimy table, and then looks up with a new expression. This time it's warm and caring.

"Listen. Now that we're all here and on the same page, so to speak, let's chat. Ronan, what are your thoughts on joining Fool's Gold? You could come onto my roster as Lawless if Raucous agrees to sell your character."

My eyes pop. Joseph's words are music to my ears. I nearly ask him to repeat himself, because I can't believe he's offering what I've wished for in my heart all along. Before I can speak, the old man continues.

"And you can shape your persona under Fool's any way you wish. I'm not a control-freak like Fitz and Lena. I believe wrestlers should have input into their characters. Pencil pushers in office cubicles know nothing of what it takes to fight in a ring."

"You really mean that, sir? I can transform Lawless?"

"You bet. The most successful wrestlers are the ones who see there's need for a change and are free to make the change. You can transform Lawless into a hero. I hear from Chey you're leaning that way. That's you've been on the dark side long enough. I get that."

He shakes his head, looking off distantly as if recalling a memory. "I came up when the industry had a stranglehold on fighters. Accept your place and don't complain. Use your muscles, not your brain. If you wanted to be employed, you bent and hoped you didn't break. Well, times, they are a changing."

"They are, indeed, Dad. Ronan and I are glad you see things in a more modern way."

"Oh, sweetie. It's more than just seeing. To merely jump into the ring and give the fans what executives think the fans want is a long-term losing proposition. Sure, the ticket sales will soar at first, but with no story arc, interest wanes. It's been the downfall of Raucous all along with its roster of fighters."

"Now you know why Chey and I want out. Why we risked everything to secretly redevelop our brands."

"Yes, I do, Ronan. But the way you did it, it was quite the risk. Thankfully in Briarwood, I'm creating options for fighters like you. As I've said, wrestlers need power and freedom, in and out of the ring. I get it, I truly do."

"Oh, Dad..." Chey hugs her father.

My eyes spark, and my mind races over the possibilities.

"Sir, with a business model like you're creating, Fool's Gold will quickly surpass Raucous in this town, in reputation and profits. Watch all the talent stream your way once contracts are up. Raucous will bleed out, and rightly so."

Joseph belly laughs. "Well, I don't know about all that, but it's about time wrestlers own their futures. I don't want my Chey or you to have to kiss-ass like I did."

Chey nudges Joseph once more. "Yes, and owners offer opportunities because the wrestler earned them. Not out of pity, family obligation, or out of love."

Joseph whisks away a few strands of Chey's hair and lovingly smiles. "You bet ya. Although I must say that last point will be a tough one for me."

All three of us laugh.

"Sir, I'm bowled over by your offer. It's something I've wished for ever since I heard you were starting your own franchise. But things have changed for me in these last few weeks. I've done a lot of thinking. I have a counteroffer."

Joseph's eyebrows pop. "Oh, you do now? Let's hear it."

I clear my throat. "What about making me a trainer instead? If I'm being honest with myself, I've only got a few years left in the ring. There are younger fighters coming up the ladder. And you know what happens when a wrestler gets long in the tooth. Reflexes slow, muscles tear, and energy slides. And an old timer literally claws his way to the bottom of the heap. I'd rather go out on top and retire a champion than fight my way to the has-been heap."

Joseph rubs his chin, and a smile grows. "I'd be a liar if I said I didn't understand where you're coming from. Going out on top, huh? If I had brains like yours, I would have done that myself. But the lure of the ring. The hunger for one more championship belt..."

Chey and I watch as Joseph's eyes seem to glaze over as he wanders down his own Memory Lane, of successes and failures, too.

"Well, you do that. You bravely go out on top and become a trainer. Briarwood's top wrestlers will pound down Fool's Gold's door to be worked by you. It'd be a win-win for both of us. I'd be a fool not to agree."

Joseph reached out his hand to me. "A Fool's Gold trainer you are, Ronan, as soon as you see fit to start."

I eagerly shake the man's hand.

Chey rockets out of her chair, jumps up and down, and hugs us both. Even I can't hide my growing smile. Good thing no other orcs are around to see the giddy me, or my reputation as a gruff beast would never recover.

"That means you can still help me hone Disastra! And we don't need to hide anymore."

"You bet. You want to be a badass. I know from bad asses. We can make Disastra one for the bad girl books."

Chey fist pumps the air like she's already won a championship, and we all laugh. She runs over to the bar fridge, pulls out a bottle of champagne, and eagerly fills three plastic cups, handing one to each of us. Alcohol is forbidden to training wrestlers, but this is a perfect exception to the rule.

"These decisions, we have to seal with a toast. To Fool's Gold and to our success, in and out of the ring!"

"To Fool's Gold!" Joseph and I chorus. We clink the plastic cups and take a healthy swig.

For the first time since I became a professional wrestler, winning takes on an entirely new feeling for me. Success can be had outside the ring, and none compares to when you have the respect of a father and the love of his daughter. If this moment produced a championship belt, it would be this one I'd forever wear.