Pushing the Limits by Jennifer Snow Page A

gym.
    Hmmm . . . maybe she could find some answers there.
    * * *
    Punisher Athletics was exactly as it appeared in its website photos—clean, well equipped, new amenities. It was busy with fighters training in the octagon in the center of the gym or working out on the heavy bags or other equipment. Readjusting her laptop bag on her shoulder, Colby approached the counter. “Tyson Reed?” she asked the tall, big guy behind it.
    â€œMaybe. Depends on what you want,” he grumbled, restocking the shelf behind him with supplements.
    â€œMy name is Colby Edwards. I’m from Knock Out Sports.” Sort of.
Get Fit Las Vegas
was technically part of the station’s programming lineup.
    Tyson sighed. “How many of you are they going to send for interviews? It was one movie,” he mumbled, running a hand over his shaved, tattooed head.
    â€œHuh?” She didn’t follow.
    â€œYou’re not here to interview me about the filming for
Cagefighter 5
?” He raised an eyebrow.
    â€œNo. Actually, I was here to ask you about Dane Hardy.”
    He stopped stocking the shelf and turned to lean his hands against the counter. “What about Dane?”
    â€œWell, I have a few questions about his training prior to the Consuelos fight.” She pulled out her recorder, but Tyson shook his head.
    â€œDo not turn that on. I don’t authorize any of this. In fact, I’m not having this discussion with you.” He turned away, dismissing her as he resumed emptying the box of supplements.
    She swallowed hard at his tone, but refused to get discouraged. “But you were his coach, right?”
    He crushed the empty cardboard. “Not for that fight,” he said coldly.
    She nodded. “But he trained here?”
    Tyson nodded slowly, and she could see his jaw clench. “Yes. But that fight had nothing to do with my camp or my gym.” He folded large, tattooed biceps across his chest.
    â€œI know that,” she reassured, hoping she could put him at ease enough to answer more questions. “Your fighters fight for the MFL, right?”
    He nodded. “And
only
the MFL.”
    Obviously not. “So, why did Dane take that fight?”
    â€œLook, I told you, my gym had nothing to do with that fight or what happened with Dane. I have no idea why he accepted it. If you see him, ask him,” he said tightly.
    She’d obviously struck a nerve. She suspected Tyson hadn’t seen or heard from his fighter since that night, despite the support he’d shown him. It didn’t surprise her that Dane had pushed everyone away, including his coach. No doubt he’d wanted to sever all ties with his past, but maybe he’d be able to move forward with his life if he had some closure and at least some form of relationship with his former mentor and friend.
    Tyson came around the counter, moving past her quickly. “I have work to do,” he said, heading back toward his office.
    She followed, her heels clicking on the tiled gym floor. Several guys stopped training inside the cage to watch them, but she ignored them as she said, “Tyson. Mr. Reed. I heard something about the MFL wanting Dane back. To fight Rico ‘The Bulldog’ Mendez?”
    He stopped. “You reporters know fucking everything,” he mumbled, running a hand over his head.
    Not everything. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be there. “Are you hoping he will come back and train for that rematch?”
    Tyson sighed. “Yeah. I am,” he said simply, surprising her with his honesty and willingness to answer.
    â€œHave you asked him?”
    â€œHe’s ignoring me,” he said.
    She suppressed a smile. “If I can get him to take the fight, to come back to training, will you answer my questions about the Consuelos fight?”
    He eyed her for a long second.
    She met his gaze squarely, hoping her slightly shaking knees didn’t give her away. She had no