“Well, I knew after a few months, you’d get bored and need a distraction from the monotony of life.”
Striding over to a locker, I popped open the door and looked at all my old gear. My fingers slid over the gloves that I’d left behind when I decided my career was over. It was like coming home.
“Just in case you didn’t want that ratty stuff, I got you a few new things,” he said, opening a second locker.
Everything inside was new, but there was nothing like my old gear.
“So, ready to get to work?” he grinned.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Good. Then let’s make our way to the weight room. The first thing we need to do is get you in shape. You look like a ten-day-old loaf of bread.”
“What the hell does that even mean?” I asked, following him down the hall to a weight room all for me.
“It means you look old. And boxers who look old get taken hard and fast in the ring. Running might have kept you in shape for someplace like Montana, but if you’re gonna step in that ring, I need you at your prime.”
My prime was in the rearview mirror, and I knew it was gonna take a hell of a lot to get me back to where I needed to be.
“Alright. Let’s do this.”
“Ah!” he stopped me. “Not so fast. I also called in Doc to check you over and take some X-rays. The last thing we need is to work you too hard before you’re completely healed.”
“If I wait any longer?—”
“Not an option,” he cut me off. “We do this right, or we don’t do it at all.”
“You’re the one who called me.”
Turning, he clasped me on the shoulder, his eyes intense as he stared at me. “That’s because I knew if there was anyone who could make a comeback, it was gonna be you.”
I could already feel my palms itching to slide into those gloves, and the feel of my toes hitting the canvas as I danced around the ring. But he was right. If I pushed too hard, too fast, I’d only end up hurting myself again.
“Okay.”
“First up. Let’s get you into the medical room for Doc.”
“He’s here?”
“Waiting as we speak.”
“Ten more, Sammy!”Deke called out, driving me relentlessly into an early grave.
But it had never felt better. It had been too long since I’d pushed myself this hard or had worked my shoulder to test the strength. And right now, even as sore as my arm was, I knew it was going to be fine.
I slammed my fist into the speed bag one last time, then stepped back, shaking out my arms as I hopped from one foot to the other. Breathing hard, I took a short jog around the ring, loosening my muscles before the inevitable ice bath I knew I was going to need.
As I cooled down, I started unwrapping my wrists, tossing them on the bench as Deke walked over and started massaging my shoulders.
“Not bad, huh? Don’t lie to me. It felt fucking good.”
Chuckling, I nodded in agreement. “Really fucking good.”
“Feel like you could go ten rounds?”
“Not even close,” I snorted. “But I’ll get there.”
“And the shoulder?”
