Chapter 7 - I DID NOT THROW THE FIRST PUNCH
Dustin recovered quickly.
Embarrassment does that to certain men.
He stepped closer until we were less than three feet apart.
“You think that means something here?”
“No.”
That answer confused him.
“You just gave us your résumé.”
“You asked.”
“You came into my gym.”
“Ray invited me.”
Every face turned toward Ray.
He did not appreciate that.
Dustin removed one glove with his teeth.
“Maybe we should see what you remember.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I didn't come to fight you.”
He laughed again, but nobody joined him.
“What did you come for?”
I looked toward the training cameras mounted above the cage.
“Those.”
Ray moved instantly.
“That system has nothing to do with this.”
“Then you won't mind preserving it.”
“Get out.”
“I will.”
Dustin stepped into my path.
“You afraid?”
“Yes.”
That surprised him more than anything else.
I continued.
“I'm afraid I'll give you exactly the story you're trying to manufacture.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You come after an older man, provoke him, get him to touch you, then suddenly my daughter's allegations become a feud between families.”
Nobody spoke.
Dustin's jaw tightened.
I stepped around him.
He grabbed my sleeve.
Every instinct from an earlier life arrived at once.
Angle.
Wrist.
Elbow.
Balance.
Distance.
I did none of it.
I looked down at his hand.
Then back at him.
“Take your hand off me.”
He did.
One of the fighters was still recording.
That mattered.
At the door, I turned toward Ray.
“Preserve everything.”
Ray answered:
“There's nothing to preserve.”
I nodded.
That was the second mistake he made in front of witnesses.
Because less than forty-eight hours later, the attorney handling Iron Forge's insurance claim produced an inventory showing the training-camera server had been operating normally for the entire previous year.
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Ray had lied.
And somebody had accessed Emily's old sparring footage the morning after she went to the emergency room.
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