Free The Brick Yard by Carol Lynne

don’t want to think or talk about this shit, but it’s happening.” He’d kept his mouth shut while Lucky was around, but now that he was alone with Brick, he needed the truth. “How much weight have you lost? Fifteen pounds? More?”
    Brick rested his forearms on the desk. “Why’re you doing this? I’m dying, and I know it, so I don’t need you to tell me I look like shit.” He shook his head before opening the top drawer of his desk. He pulled out a plain manila folder and held it out. “I need you and Lucky to read over these and sign them. They have to be notarized, but you can get that done at the bank.”
    Dray retrieved the folder but couldn’t bring himself to open it. “Is this your power-of-attorney paperwork?”
    “Yeah, the Advanced Health Care Directive and a copy of my will,” Brick replied.
    Dray had known it was coming, but holding the proof, he just stared at the folder. He’d given the situation a lot of thought during the hours of driving. “I don’t want Lucky’s name on the directive.”
    “Why the hell not?”
    Dray glanced at Brick. “Lucky doesn’t need that shit weighing on him.” Truthfully, he didn’t think Lucky was strong enough to deal with what was coming, but he wouldn’t verbalize it. “He needs to concentrate on the upcoming tournament he’s registered for. He tell you about that?”
    Brick nodded. “He needs the money. If he wins, he can make more in two weeks than he makes in a year on the circuit.”
    According to Lucky, he was fighting in the tournament for Brick’s benefit. Dray couldn’t help wondering who Lucky was lying to. “Is money a problem for him?”
    If that was the case, Dray had some extra cash squirreled away. He’d much rather give it to Lucky than to have Lucky enter the blood bath Ray Bruno was putting together. Despite Lucky’s indifference to the fans, he was a damn good fighter and could probably win, but Dray never understood why skilled fighters entered the underground tournaments. Sure, there was money to be made, but the fights were often referred to as human cockfights.
    “Lucky’s mom’s up for parole. He knows he’s going to have to set her up in a place.” Brick shrugged. “Alana’s a fucking mess, always has been, but no matter how many times Lucky tries to tell himself he’s over her, he always busts his ass to help when she asks for it.”
    “What’d she go in for?” Dray asked.
    “It’s her second time in. Both for distribution.”
    Dray wondered how Lucky would be able to deal with the tournament, Brick’s failing health and his junkie mother. Dray stood and tossed the folder back on Brick’s desk. “Lucky’s got enough shit to deal with. Take his name off the power-of-attorney, and I’ll sign it and get it notarized.”
     
    * * * *
     
    After an easy workout and shower, Lucky grabbed his gym bag. He stopped at the laundry room to find Jax doing homework. “Hey.”
    Jax looked up and smiled. “I got my test back.” He dug around in his backpack before pulling out a sheet of paper. “Take that!” he cried, slamming the test on the table.
    Lucky grinned at the B plus written in red. “Good job.” He eyed Jax for several moments before gesturing with a wave of his hand. “Let’s go. I think you deserve dinner at Mac’s.”
    Jax’s big blue eyes lit up. “Really? What about showing me some moves?”
    Lucky hadn’t forgotten what he’d promised the kid in exchange for a good grade. “I believe the deal for showing you how to execute an uppercut was an A,” he reminded Jax.
    “Seriously?” Jax whined. “I got a fucking B plus, man.”
    “Yeah, and that’s why I’m taking you to Mac’s.” Lucky pointed to the door. “Let’s go.” He grinned to himself, knowing he’d end up showing Jax a few moves, but first the kid needed to eat.
    Jax caught up to Lucky halfway between The Brick Yard and Mac’s. “I read that The Hammer suffered three broken ribs and a partially collapsed