Claiming The Prize (9 page)

“
I'd like to go home,” she
whispered tiredly.

* * *

The comfort of home lessened the
melancholy of Grace's mood.
Drago settled in front of the gas
fireplace while she went up to shower.
Her bravado was commendable,
but she placed him in an untenable situation, requesting that they
tell no one of what had happened this night.
He had not yet agreed
and now considered her reasoning in the stillness of solitude,
broken only by the wailing wind outside.

Carson would not attempt to approach
Grace again, of this he was certain.
Still, he would not relax his
vigilant eye, for he was not a man to tempt fate.
Grace was
concerned for her father, believing that he would blame himself for
the incident, having tolerated Khaler for so long.
Guy would not
forgive himself for leaving her, and she could not bear the thought
of watching her father suffer.
Reasoning that Drago had handled the
situation, she had asked him to spare her father the grief that his
knowing would surely cause.

How could he deny her?
He loved her.
Carson would escape with what little reputation he had left because
of Grace's love for her father.
He admired her willingness to be
wronged without seeking revenge.
He also filled with disgust at the
recollection of Carson's insult against Grace's character and his
own motives.

The faint creaking of the stairs
roused him from his thoughts.
Clad in winter white thermals under a
matching knit wrap, Grace padded to the kitchen.
Minutes later, she
appeared with mugs of chamomile tea, offering one to him with a
smile.
Taking it from her tiny hand, Drago sat back against the
cushion.

“
I will do as you
ask.”

“
Thank you,” she said
softly.

* * *

Carson Khaler sought Savannah Jameson,
his path to destruction not nearly complete.
He thought not of his
career.
He railed against the truth of the man he was becoming.
He
wanted only the escape from reality he would enjoy, riding his high
while riding her body, never fathoming the depths to which his
descent would take him, nor the cost he would ultimately pay.
He
needed to silence the accusations his mind tormented him with, and
he knew Savannah would have the cure to his problem.
That was
reason enough for Carson tonight.

Chapter 7

Guy and the Friar returned with a
triumphant Moore and Henner, and First Strike fell into familiar
patterns again.
Drago surrendered to his training, continuing his
pilgrimage toward the nirvana of excellence measured not by steps,
but in sweat and pain.
Day by day his body obeyed more fully,
Antolini jujitsu became an extension of himself, and instinct
converged with knowledge.
Sundays were the only reprieve from the
consuming schedule, and those precious hours with Grace were an
anchor in the sea of endless struggle to master his mind and body.
In spite of the steep price, Drago thrived.

A week before Drago's upcoming fight,
the inner circle of team Anto-Engage surrounded the conference room
table.
Guy, in his customary chair, sat with hands
folded.

“
Saint, any last minute
observations or concerns with Zadrovec's striking or
cardio?”

St.
Clair broke into a
grin.

“
Anto, if there is one time
I don't have a concern, it's for this fight.
Drago has exceeded my
expectations.
He's quick, and he sees angles before I have to
speak.
He moves well, and his cardio is strong.
He's also got a
pretty good chin.
The videos speak for themselves.
Will he perform
in the cage under pressure?
I don't doubt it.”

“
All right,” Guy answered.
His gaze followed to Allen Eisenhower.
“What's your assessment,
Ike?”

He waited for the report, hands in the
same position throughout.
Apart from the telling creak of the
ancient chair he insisted on sitting in, he seemed not to
move.

“
He's a decent wrestler.
He'll hold his own.
Any lack in perfection of technique is
compensated by the fact that he has great hips.”

Yves continued the thought.

“
I agree.
He's got good
body awareness, and that translates well in grappling and
submission attempts.
Let's face facts; he's powerful, Anto.
I don't
think Harrison will have the strength to hold him.
The weakness is
in his submission defense, primarily against the arm bar or ankle
lock.
We've worked a great deal on it.
He's as ready as he can
be.”

The six members sat awaiting Guy's
input.
A moment later he began nodding his assent, and the hint of
a wiry grin appeared.

“
We'll have a victory.
I'm
predicting a first round knockout via the left leg.
I can feel it
in my bones.
We'll spend the morning going over the fight strategy
and plan.
Have the video session ready to review during the morning
break.”
Guy Antolini wiped the grin from his face.
“I hear Khaler
has signed with Antonio Paola...”

Ike scoffed, “That boy's making one
bad decision after another.
Paola doesn't have anything to offer
him!
What in the hell is Carson thinking?”

“
He's not thinking, Ike,”
the Friar added.
“I know he wasn't happy after you laid into him,
Anto, but I'm surprised he would make such a drastic move over
it.”

“
Has anyone heard from
him?”
Guy asked.
“He hasn't even come in to clear out his
locker.”

No one spoke up, so the matter was
dropped.

Grace had not commented throughout the
meeting, and as Guy drove the winding road toward home, he
addressed her.

“
Gracie, you remember I
warned you away from becoming involved with a fighter?”

Her father's words hung in the air
between them.
Spring had come and gone, the thick of summer now in
full bloom.
The air conditioner blew its cool stream of air against
Grace's skin.
She wished it would carry her father's words
away.

“
I remember.”

“
I thought it would protect
you from the uncertainty of the life,” he continued, “But you love
him, I know.”

Grace waited to exhale.
She was pent
up with agitation.
The days leading up to this fight dragged
beneath her excitement and anticipation, yet sped toward the day
that Drago would have to return to Bratislava, away from her.
What
could she say to her father?
She had ignored his wise advice and
now suffered.
Her heart belonged to Drago Zadrovec.

“
I do, Anto.”

“
Gracie girl, I've come to
realize that life is uncertain.
It wouldn't be any less so if you
loved a banker or a carpenter.
You chose well.
Now let go and trust
God, Gracie.
Things will work out as they should.”

She did not answer her father, but
leaned her head on his shoulder, comforted by his steady presence.
His support meant the world to her, and his direction to trust in
God was a powerful reminder.
She was not in control, God was.
She
would hope for victory, she would follow her heart, but it was not
her victory to give.
Peace crept into her soul, edging out the
questions that swam in her thoughts.
Offering her hopes and dreams,
her desires and fears in her prayers, quietness resounded within
her but for the small, still voice speaking in her
heart.

Lay down your cares and
wait upon the Lord
.

She slept contentedly that
night.

* * *

The final days before the fight were
charged with excitement.
First Strike business went on, but all
were aware of the countdown to Saturday night.
Two men remained
untouched by the nervous energy in the gym, Guy and Drago.
The pair
worked side by side, their unspoken bond solidified.
The afternoon
before their departure for Philadelphia, Guy called Drago to his
office.

“
Come in.”

Drago took the seat across the desk
from Guy, awaiting a strategy session or trip itinerary.
He had
something to discuss with Guy and would now have the perfect
opportunity after they concluded business.
No one would interrupt
them in Guy's office.

“
You're prepared for this
fight, now go home and relax.
We'll leave tomorrow afternoon for
Philly and check into our rooms.
You'll weigh in the next morning,
and we'll work two sessions in during the day.
Saturday we'll have
a light session, then strategy, and we'll begin warm-ups a few
hours before the fight in short bursts.”

“
This is a good plan,”
Drago agreed.

“
How do you feel mentally?”
Guy asked.

“
Very well.
I know what I
must do, and I have trained to carry it out.”

“
You're on weight and your
hydration levels are good.”
Guy closed the folder and rested his
arms on the desk briefly before removing his glasses.
“But you know
all this already.”

Drago remained seated.

“
I have purchased a ring,
Guy.”

He paused to gauge the reaction his
words would evoke.

The older man looked down at the
battered desktop and breathed deeply.

“
I expected as much,” he
said, leaning back in the chair.
“You'll talk to her before we
leave tomorrow?”

Drago nodded.

“
I don't want to clutter up
your head before a fight, Zadrovec.
There are things to discuss,
but it's your call here.
Now, or after Saturday?”

“
I would not have spoken to
you if I believed it would hinder my focus.”

Guy appreciated Drago's calm and frank
manner.

“
Grace is my most valuable
contribution to this world.
All I've done, my business, everything,
is less important than family.
By marrying my daughter you become a
part of my family.
Don't ever forget what's important, Drago.
This
life can be the fulfillment of your dreams; you will succeed.
But
success and fame fade.
In the end, it's family that
remains.”

“
You offer wise advice,
sir.
I will remember.”

Guy decided to broach the topic
fully.

“
Drago, have you considered
the publicity shit-storm that may be coming?”

“
You think there would be
much?”
he asked.
“I reasoned there would be little more than a
mention.”

“
I'm betting there will be
more than that.
Be prepared to have your motives questioned, her
motives, hell, even my motives.
The entertainment culture can only
thrive if they've got a story to hook folks.
Mixed martial arts
competition is becoming more popular, and while I could be wrong, I
think the industry will look to capitalize.
Derek Sloba is a
businessman.
He'll encourage the attention, even the negative sort,
if it draws attention to the AMMAO.”

“
How do you see the
negative turn?”

Drago's mind was already imagining the
possibilities, and he did not like the implications.

“
Oh, they'll feast on the
fairytale, true love and all.
Then they'll catch a photo of you or
Grace alone, and from there they'll begin supposing all sorts of
explanations.
You married her for a piece of team Anto-Engage, or
money.
She married you to ensure you would remain with Anto-Engage.
Every relationship you have will be speculated about.
But none of
it matters, it's all bullshit.
What matters is your commitment to
Grace and your ability to remain so under the stress of the media
attention, the fame, and the pressure to win in the
ring.”

The young fighter absorbed everything
and replied, “I accept all these things, and I intend to marry
Grace.”

“
I expected this, too,” Guy
noted with a satisfied look on his face.
“Well, go ask her, son.
Better to have it all settled before we leave.”

He noticed the sliver of doubt in the
Slovakian's eyes with a bit of compassion, but mostly with
amusement.

“
Relax, Drago.
She'll say
yes.”

Grinning, he got up and walked out,
leaving Drago alone in his office.

With the day before him,
Drago headed for the locker room.
He would be alone with Grace in
less than an hour.

* * *

Finishing the schedules for the
upcoming week, Grace sent her work to the printer.
The invoices
were up to date, orders placed, and realizing she had nothing to
occupy her afternoon, she informed her father that she was going to
St.
Cecelia's to complete some office work before their departure.
She volunteered a few hours of her time each week in the
secretary's office, and this week, Grace was hoping to find enough
work to keep her busy.

The sun shone brightly outside, edging
out the bleakness that shadowed her - bleakness over Drago's
leaving - as she drove along the busy streets.
Once there, Grace
quickly handled the messages awaiting her on her desk and wrote out
Father Paul's list of engagements for the upcoming week.
After
filing the treasurer's report and running the weekly backup on the
computer system, she discovered nothing further to accomplish.
Sighing, she sat, with nothing more left to divert her from her
thoughts, and moments later, she wandered the hall seeking the
sanctuary.