“Kace, have you looked at the news?”

“No, Dale. I actually have a woman between my legs at the moment, something I’m sure you’re not familiar with.”

Dale was a good guy but fuck, he had bad timing.

“You might want to ask her to leave.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?” I asked as the hairs on the back of my neck started to rise.

“Please, for the sake of your future, ask her to leave.”

The tone Dale was using startled me. It was a warning—a warning that I was sure I wasn’t going to like what I was about to hear.

“Be kind and say you forgot you had a radio interview, but get her out as soon as you can.”

“Okay,” I said while I cleared my throat.

“Call me back when she’s gone.”

I disconnected the call and stared at nothing for a second as my mind raced. What could be so bad that Dale didn’t want anyone in my house when he told me?

It took about five minutes and ten apologies to get her dressed and out of my house. Surprisingly, she was pretty cool about leaving and not getting off. Maybe she was more easygoing than I’d thought.

I dialed Dale back while I started pacing the length of my house. There was no way he was going to be delivering good news. It wasn’t possible from the tone of his voice.

He answered on the second ring. “Is she gone?”

“Yes. Now tell me what the hell is going on.” I started to visibly shake.

“You might want to sit down,” Dale warned.

“Just tell me what the fuck is going on,” I shot back, my patience wearing thin.

“Kace, I got a call from the federation today. Your drug test was positive.”

“What?” I practically shouted. “It’s a mistake. What did I test positive for?”

“Human growth hormone. It’s a banned substance, Kace.”

“I know it’s a fucking banned substance!” I yelled, running a hand down my face. “This can’t be happening. Dale, I’ve never taken any kind of growth hormone. Someone switched the samples. There is no way I could test positive for HGH.”

“The Anti-Doping Agency wouldn’t switch. They take their jobs very seriously.”

“So you think I took steroids, then?” I asked, shocked my agent didn’t believe me.

“Do you take supplements?” Dale asked, his voice wavering.

“The only supplements I take are vitamins. I’ve never once done any kind of steroid. I’ve worked hard to get to where I am. Why would I chance it by taking steroids?”

“I don’t know,” Dale said. “Has Jono changed anything since you’ve been training with him?”

“No, we’ve been doing the same….” I paused as it hit me. “Holy fuck.”

“What?” Dale asked.

Ignoring him, I ran to my kitchen, set the phone down, and rummaged through a cupboard until I pulled down a bottle of supplements Jono had recently given me. He’d told me it was a combination of natural products to help me wake up in the morning and get the best workout I could. He’d claimed the pills were cayenne pepper, green tea, and some kind of other holistic supplements.

I searched for the ingredients, but the label was blank. What the fuck?

Dale screamed into the phone, asking me what was going on. I picked up the cell and said, “I’m so fucked.”

“What is going on?” Dale asked breathlessly.

“Jono gave me some supplements to wake me up in the morning. I’ve only used them a couple of times, but fuck, Dale. They have to be laced with HGH. It’s the only explanation.”

“You can’t be fucking serious,” Dale practically growled in the phone. “I knew he was a bad idea. His reputation was tainted for a reason. He couldn’t be trusted. Fuck!”

“Dale, what does this mean?” I asked, panicking now, not knowing what my future was going to look like, what my future held for me.

“It’s over,” Dale said flatly.

“Wait, what?” I asked as I slid down the cabinets of my kitchen and sat on the cold tile floor.

“You’re banned from competing, Kace. They don’t take substance abuse lightly. It’s over.”

This could not be happening. Dale was pulling some kind of joke on me; that’s what it had to be. There was no way everything I’d worked toward in my life was coming to an end just when I was getting started, just when I was making a name for myself. This couldn’t be happening.

“Dale, please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I wish I was, kid.”

“Can’t I dispute this?”

“You won’t be able to prove it wasn’t your fault. Who takes supplements without a label, Kace?” The disappointment in Dale’s voice made my stomach turn over.

“I trusted him,” I said softly as I sank farther into the cold ground.

“You can’t trust everyone, Kace.”

Advice that had come a little late, I thought, resting my head against the hard oak of the kitchen cabinets. The tightness in my throat constricted my ability to talk, and the throbbing in my head was almost overpowering. A lonesome tear ran down my cheek as the realization hit me that I was done. The one true thing that gave me happiness was over. My boxing days were finished.

“What’s going to happen?” I asked, not really wanting to hear what Dale had to say.

“A story is going to run shortly. Your sponsorships are already pulling. You’re cut from the circuit, and your title has been stripped. You’re boxing days are over. I’m sorry, Kace.”

“I’m sorry, too,” I said right before I ended the call and buried my head in my hands, knowing fully well I’d lost everything I’d ever worked for.  

Chapter Five

My present…

“Would you like another?” the bartender asked.

I pushed my empty glass toward him. “Yeah,” I mumbled, not making eye contact.

Finding a place in New Orleans to live that wasn’t overpriced or mildewed or infested with rats was proving to be harder than expected. I’d looked over six different options, and none of them came close to what I was looking for.

Thinking about going back to the hotel where I would be pestered by the girls almost made it tempting enough to shack up next to the local rat’s nest, but I did have my standards. I wasn’t about to trade in the posh life for one that was far below what I was used to. I wasn’t a princess by any means, but fuck, a little hot water would be nice.

The bar was empty other than two men playing pool off to the side. It was a bar I came to when I wanted to get away from it all. From the nagging of the girls I worked with, the control issues Jett had, and the hustle and bustle of the French Quarter.

Tourists got annoying quick. Add the fact they were usually drunk and high-risk projectile vomiters, and it was hard for me to enjoy the unique nightlife New Orleans had to offer. Plus, with my past haunting me, I still ran into the occasional know-it-all of the boxing world. Their favorite thing to do was harass me about my past. What little they knew.

That was why I liked it in my quiet bar: no tourists, no Jett Girls, just peace and quiet.

“I knew we would find you here,” a voice came from the entryway of the bar.

Diego and Blane, my friends, approached. So much for peace and quiet.

“How’s our boy?” Diego asked, slapping me on the back and pulling up a chair next to me. Blane did the same.

“Your boy wants to be left alone,” I replied, grabbing my drink from the bartender and taking a large gulp.

“What do you have there?” Diego asked, leaning over and sniffing my cup. To my dismay, he stuck his finger in the liquid and then tested it on his tongue. “Ahh, whiskey. I’m surprised it’s not bourbon.”

“Bourbon is Jett’s thing,” I mumbled while the tumbler was cradled between my hands. I kept my head down so Diego would get the hint I didn’t want to talk.

“Where is Jett? Is he here?” Diego asked, looking around.

“No.”

Grabbing the bartender’s attention, Diego responded, “Fuck, you’re in a mood.” Turning his attention to the bartender, he said, “Can I get two fingers of whiskey and a Stella for the douche?” Diego said and pointed his thumb toward Blane.