— THE NAME ON THE OLD PHOTOGRAPH
On Friday afternoon, Cole visited Marcus.
The physical therapist examined his knee, tested its range of motion, and studied the old injury reports Cole had kept in a folder.
When he finished, Marcus leaned back.
“You can walk. You can work. But that doesn’t mean you should take unnecessary punishment.”
“I’m not planning to.”
“Good. Then don’t fight him.”
Cole rubbed his jaw.
“Marcus.”
“What?”
“If I don’t go, he’ll tell everyone I was afraid.”
Marcus stared at him.
“And if you go and wreck that knee permanently, you’ll have something much worse than rumors.”
Cole knew his friend was right.
He also knew that pride was a terrible reason to risk an injury.
He made a decision.
He would go to the gym, but he wouldn’t agree to an uncontrolled fight. If Derek wanted a contest, it would need to be supervised, with clear rules and an immediate stop if either man was hurt.
