TWIN PASSIONS: (A Logan Brothers Novel) (13 page)

I nodded.
Yeah, I found
something all right. Something I don't think I can ever talk about.
Something I was already trying to forget.

“
Maybe.”

But I knew she wouldn't. I knew
she'd go through with her threats.

“
Look babe, keep your chin up.
I mean, it's probably a good thing in the end. I know you don't
really want to print anything about Cade.”

I shook my head, hardly taking
in her words.

“
And if you need any help, you
know, finding a new job or anything – you know, if it comes to it –
then I'm always here, OK.”

“
Sure, thanks Annie.”

She sat back down on her chair
and dropped out of sight, clearly getting the impression that I
wasn't in a particularly talkative mood right now.

I felt slightly sick at what I'd
done, what I'd heard that morning. I couldn't quite believe what I
was willing to do for a job, for my career, and now it had landed me
with information that I wish I could forget.

The irony was that my trip to
Cade's apartment had yielded just the sort of fruit that Mrs Banks
would love to get her hands on. The idea that Cade had knowledge of
murder, that his brother was the perpetrator, that the victim was the
man who'd killed their father. It was the sort of thing that would
make headline news all over the world, not just in Branton.

But no, she'd never know because
I'd never tell her. It was too much for me to handle, way beyond my
pay grade.

No, I'd take the secret to my
grave. I'd never speak of it to anyone.

Present Day

Cade

“
So when was the last time you
were up this early bro?”

“
Fuck knows, not for a long
time now,” replied Kyle, his shadowed eyes telling their own story.

I laughed at the sight. For me 6
AM starts were nothing out of the ordinary. Every time I was in final
preparations for a fight I'd be up at the crack of dawn every damn
day.

This fight meant everything to
me, though, so coach and I had pushed my training to the absolute
max. The only problem was my lack of preparation time. I mean, two
weeks to get myself physically and mentally prepped for the fight of
my life was woefully short. But then, the fact that I was willing to
go through with it was partly why I'd got the gig in the first place.

Others had been approached but
had turned it down, either because it was too short notice or because
they were already training for another bout. That left the door open
for me, and I wasn't going to let it slip. No, this was my time, my
chance to make a real name for myself, get myself on the big
promoters' radar, and I was going to grab it with both hands.

Luckily I was already in great
shape when the fight was arranged. I always kept myself in prime
condition, so felt I could go out and fight at the drop of a hat if I
needed to. Hopefully my 'always be prepared' mantra would pay off.

It was just past 7 AM when Kyle
and I finally arrived at the boxing club. I'd stupidly forgotten to
bring along my specially formulated protein bars so had to go back to
my apartment and get them. I swear I must have been losing my mind
with all these early mornings, as the door was unlocked when I got in
there. Probably a good thing I had to return in the end then I guess.

Kyle was down supporting me
through my training today and wanted to get a full taste for how my
schedule went. He'd told me Crash had wanted to come down as well but
was way too busy with his new casino project.

The idea, Crash had told me, was
for me to open the hotel/casino with a defence of my title when it
was finally finished. He said I was doing the family proud, doing our
father proud, helping to etch the Logan name into the fabric of this
country.

He always had this grandstanding
way about him, this ambition that could never be quenched. This
casino was going to become one of the largest in the country outside
of Vegas and Atlantic City, and the prospect of holding a title fight
there to open it up was a real motivator for me, and for him.

Of course, I had plenty of time,
with the casino a long way away from completion. But I'd pledged to
Crash that by the time it was ready, I'd have the belt around my
waist. Hopefully, this fight would be the first major step towards
that goal.

The boxing club was deathly
quiet when I stepped inside, no one but coach sitting and waiting by
the ring. His face looked pretty grave as I walked in.

“
What's up coach?” I asked
cheerfully.

“
Paul's sick,” he grunted,
“he can't spar today.”

“
What! You're kidding me.”

He shook his head. “I've
called around but I haven't found a suitable replacement for you
yet.”

“
So what then? You just want
me on the bags?”

“
There's not much else we can
do today. I've got a couple of guys lined up for tomorrow, so we'll
have to just change the session up for now and get back on schedule
then.”

I continued into the gym and
threw my fist at a bag, sending it flying up into the air as I
bellowing loudly.

“
Well how about you,” I
said, turning to Kyle. “You wanna take a few punches?”

His face screwed up. “After
seeing that, hell no,” he said, looking at the bag still rocking
around on its hook.

“
Come on Kyle, you've been in
a few fights in your time, it would really help me out.”

Coach walked in towards us from
across the room, his eyes set on Kyle.

“
You got any experience in the
ring?” he asked.

Kyle shook his head. “No, and
I'm not getting in with this psycho. Why don't you get Zack down
here? He used to spar and box with you when you were younger.”

Yeah, he was right, Zack was
perfect. Sure, he hadn't boxed in a while but he was always pretty
good. He was the same weight and build as me, pretty much. He'd be
ideal.

“
That's your twin?” coach
asked.

“
Yeah, Zack, I'll give him a
call.”

Zack

My head was pounding as my phone
started buzzing furiously next to my bed.

I blinked at the clock on my
wall – 7.05 AM. Who the hell was calling me this early?!

I reached for my phone and saw
Cade's name.

“
What could you possibly want
with me at 7 AM on a Thursday morning!” I growled groggily down the
phone as I answered it.

“
Get up bro, I need you down
at the boxing hall.”

“
Huh. What are you talking
about.”

“
Look, I need you to train
with me, I'm short on guys today. Seriously, get up and get down
here.”

I sat up in bed, the fuzzy
shroud over my eyes clearing.

“
What do you mean train with
you?”

“
I need you to spar with me,
you know, like you used to. Please bro, I need this.”

“
Sorry Cade, I'm a little tied
up.”

“
Ah come on Zack, my fight's
in a week. I need some help, come on.”

“
All right, all right, but
just don't expect much from me. I've had a rough night.”

“
Great! That's great! Get down
here ASAP.”

I shut off the phone and slid
out of bed and away from the naked girl draped over my mattress. I
didn't even remember her name.

I guess my head couldn't
pound any more than it already was. What more could Cade's punches do
to me?

Half an hour later I was stood
in the ring ahead of him wearing a protective headguard and gloves. I
hadn't been in the ring for years, and it felt strangely good to be
back.

I remembered back to when we
were kids, when we both used to go down to the boxing club together
and train every evening and every weekend. We were both as good as
each other back then, but soon Cade took the lead and he let me know
it.

From then I began to lose
interest in the sport, and when I went off to a different high
school, I'd all but lost any early passion I'd had for it. Cade kept
going, of course, kept training and fighting, and tried to convince
me to do the same. But it wasn't the same for me anymore. I'd stepped
out of his shadow at my new high school and didn't want to step back
into it in my spare time.

I'd boxed casually every so
often since then, mainly to help me keep fit, but I hadn't been back
in the ring, not until now.

“
OK Zack,” I could hear
Cade's coach tell me, “just offer some resistance where you can.
Try to remember what you used to know, all right? Keep your hands up
in defence and let us know if it gets too much.”

I nodded, my brain still feeling
like it was being compressed in a vice.

Screw this, I'd give him a
proper fight.

I launched at him, despite my
pounding head, or most probably because of it, the copious alcohol
I'd drunk the previous night still swimming in my veins. To connect
with just one punch, one punch to his face, that would be really
gratifying for me right now.

He dodged to the side as I heard
cries of 'whoa, whoa' from the two man crowd of 'coach' and Kyle.

Cade slipped me to the side,
stepping, quick as a cat, as I went flying into the corner of the
ring.

“
Easy bro, lets just warm it
up a little.”

I turned heavily and set my
sights on him again, glaring at him through the gap in my headwear.
He bent his legs and got into position, swaying confidently to the
left and right, his eyes intense on me. He was in serious mode now, I
could tell.

I steadied myself and crept in
towards him, mimicking his stance, trying to recall everything I'd
learned. It had always come naturally to me, boxing, but I'd lost it
mentally. Cade, though, he was so strong in the head, always had
been. Just another thing he had on me.

He stepped in and jabbed, his
arm quick as lightning, but I managed to get my arms up in time.
Before I knew it his fists were crashing into me from the left and
right as he danced around the ring. His punches were hard, sending my
brain rocketing around in my skull.

Fuck me for agreeing to this.

He kept on at me as I held my
arms up, unable to free them, unable to even try to punch him. I
guess this is what sparring was all about for him now – I was just
a human punching bag, cannon fodder for his flying fists.

He stopped abruptly and held his
hands up into the air. “Come on Zack, give me something here. You
used to have something, where's it all gone.”

His words were goading, or
that's how I took them. I swung wildly again, an anger towards him
building in me and beginning to bubble to the surface, like lava
threatening to cascade down a mountainside.

He swerved once more and stepped back in towards me, but I covered up and twisted away from the
reach of his punches. Before I knew it he was back on me though, his
fist coming round the side like a flash and connecting with the side
of my head. It sent me stumbling over onto the ropes, my head
spinning.

“
All right boys,” I could
hear Kyle say, “easy now.” Typical older brother, always trying
to keep the peace between us. He'd played that role for years when we
were little kids, fighting and scrapping over just about anything.

My head stopped spinning and I
turned back to him. He was punching the air and darting around the
ring in a show of his speed and skill.

Yeah yeah Cade, we know
you're the fucking bomb. Dickhead.

I moved in again, the adrenaline
now beginning to overtake the lingering traces of alcohol in my
blood, the misty shroud beginning to lift. I breathed in deep and
jabbed at him as he ducked and dived and sent his own jabs back at
me.

For a moment or two we seemed
like equals, two boxers with equal skill trying to break each other
down. That's how we'd started when we were kids, but there was only
one twin people were interested in now.

My inner anger continued to
froth inside me as I sent a flurry of punches back at him, connecting
only with air and his upheld gloves. It felt great, sending my fists
at his face, watching him cover and cower. That's how I saw it –
him cowering to me as I struck out at him.

Images of Gemma flashed through
my head, thoughts of her and Cade together ripping at my mind. I kept
punching and Cade kept ducking and diving. I could hear him shouting
“good, good,” as I did, which only pissed me off even more. He
could coach me and fight at the same time – for him this was
nothing, a light warmup, and he could finish me off at any time if he
wanted.

I kept jabbing and swinging
until my tank began to run dry, my lack of sleep and excessive
smoking sending me stumbling over into the corner to catch my breath.

“
OK Zack,” Cade was telling
me, “that was good, but just pace yourself, OK. We know you've got
skill. Use your feet a bit more, don't just come in swinging. Choose
your moments...”