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Sela and I had been talking about this for days, and the best way to approach JT with a buyout when he asks for the money I hope to God I stick to the script we created, which we felt was the best way to "handle" JT, and that this goes as smoothly as I hope But for now, I silently wait hiet my car, pull it up to the front, and JT is loaded into the front seat We don't say a word during the short drive to his house in Sausalito, and he's utterly silent alk into the house

I follow JT into his den, an ostentatious room filled with expensive leather furniture, two seventy-inch TVs, and a surround-sound system that cost a sany bar against one wall Pulling out a crystal decanter filled with a at me, he asks, "Want one?"

"No,to lace my voice with concern "But I would like to knohat happened to you Were you in an accident?"

JT's shoulders jerk as he barks out a laugh, and then groans from the pain that h his teeth after it goes down

"You shouldn't drink if you're taking pain meds," I say, not out of any concern for him but because I want him lucid

"I didn't take any pain"I need a clear head"

Well, that makes two of us who need that

"So what happened?" I pro couches that flank a large fireplace The leather is buttery and the cushions are deep He sinks into it sloith a groan

JT takes another sip, ss it, and raises his bloodred eyes to me "I'm in trouble"

So ree But I just raise my eyebrows in friendly worry

"I got in deep with a bookie in Vegas His enforcers paidThat's why I look and feel like shit"

Here was part of what I had rehearsed with Sela The need to be shocked by JT's revelation he could be in so deep So I downplay any danger off the bat "Well, what the fuck JT," I say with exasperation "Pay the damn money It's not like you don't have it"

"I don't," he says, takes another sip of bourbon I can tell it's working on him because he starts to relax his body into the couch "Have the type of , that is"

"What type ofabout?" I ask hesitantlymy eyes ith curiosity

"Four million," he spits out, as if he can feel the bitterness of his debt on his tongue

"Jesus fucking Christ," I explode, ot to be fucking kidding ht?"

And the Oscar for this year's perforoes toBeck North

JT shakes his head and gri"

"What in the hell could you have bet four million dollars on?" I ask incredulously

"The Mariota-VanZant fight"

Here I don't act surprised JT knows h to know I follow most all sports He knows I'd knohat that was So I simply say, "You bet on VanZant"

"I was so sure he had what it takes," JT says in the frustrated voice of a gambler who just can't believe his luck has run out

"Four rit out, letting a little bit of anger slip through "Are you crazy to lay that type of ht?"

"It wasn't just one fight," he mutters

"Explain," I demand But I already know the story

I ot two ured it was a sure thing

Yeah, that's what JT tells me, and I letin front of hied-out, worried friend "Well, pay the da the crap beat out of you"

"I don't have it," he whines, and I have to literally lockat him That "poorin my sinister plan