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I nod but cringe hard when Phoenix lands a hard right hook against his opponent’s face that has him stumbling and backing away.
“Yeah! You better get him, Phoenix!” Skyla yells from her seat. The one she’s standing on top of instead of sitting in. Phoenix peeks at her over his gloves, and if I’m not mistaken, I swear he gives her a quick wink before he moves in on the other guy and continues his onslaught.
The deep groans of pain and sound of heavy muscles being pummeled excites the audience even more, but I’m still not a huge fan of the sport. It does have its advantages, though.
I turn my attention back to Luke, and instead of watching the fight, he’s on his tablet entering some information. It may be his space, but it was my idea to set up a fun exhibition fight between some big-name fighters and some of the guys from Bright’s Boxing Gym. All the proceeds will go to helping the community center keep its doors open, and from the look on Luke’s face, I think we made the goal.
“So, don’t keep me in suspense! Tell me.” I shake his arm, too impatient to wait for everything to die down to know if we hit our mark.
“Haven, we made over a hundred fifty thousand dollars in sales and donations.” His smile is so wide it’s almost unbelievable.
In fact, it is unbelievable. “No. That’s impossible. Are you sure?” I snatch the tablet out of his hands and start reading over the figures and names on the spreadsheet. The numbers are staggering.
“You did this. You saved it for those kids. I’m so proud of myself.” He hugs his own midsection, and I throw my head back in laughter.
“Don’t you mean you’re proud of me?”
“Yeah, I’m proud of you too, but I’m the one that hired you. I think I did a good job,” he jokes, and I bump him with my hip playfully.
“Ms. Callahan, if I could have a word?” A man I don’t recognize comes up behind me and talks directly into my ear.
I turn around to see a tall man with shocking red hair. Not the kind you get from a box, but the kind that tells me everyone in his family has the same distinct locks. “All the fighters will give interviews after the fights.”
“No, I’m not here about that. I just wanted to speak with you about something else, if you have a second.” He moves away a step, probably to seem less intimidating. With a gesture to Luke to let him know I’m stepping away, I follow the red-headed man to the very back of the community center.
“How may I help you?”
“This is a great show you put together here. My name is Declan O’Henry. Not sure if you know who I am.” He squints, and I scan through my internal Rolodex to see if his name rings any bells. It doesn’t.
“Sorry, can’t say that I do,” I answer with a shrug.
“That’s fine. I wanted to talk to you about some of the fighters here and maybe finding a way to work together in the future. I know Reese isn’t in the professional boxing world any longer as a fighter, but I think there’s a real shot at him being a figure on the outside of the ring, say commentating? It’s not factual yet, but everyone’s heard about the shady shit Ezra pulled to get Reese out. It was a punk move.” Declan reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card with his information on it. Sports commentator for ESPN and a combat sport athlete agent. “I also know what you’re doing here for the community center, and I think it’s honorable. If you ever want to throw something like this again, I’ve got a full roster of popular athletes that I’m sure would be happy to help out.”
Holy shit. I didn’t know who this man was, but if he was willing to help us raise more money for the center in the future, this was a big deal.
“Wow! Thank you so much. This means a lot to me and to the kids. I’ll definitely reach out to you about something in the future, but really if you want to find out more info about the fighters, the man you need to talk to is Corey Bright. His gym only breeds champions.” I point Corey out and Declan nods.
“Aye, he was next on the list. Well, it was a pleasure talking to you, Ms. Callahan, keep up the good work.” He bows his head slightly before he walks off.
My gaze goes back to the stage as I hear the bell ringing signaling the end of the match, and I shout when I realize that Phoenix has come out victorious. His opponent, who used to be the middleweight boxing champion, claps and raises Phoenix’s hand in a show of good sportsmanship. Neither one of them look too bad, a few bruises but nothing as brutal as what I’ve seen before.
People take photos and there’s laughter in every corner of the center. This is what I’ve been working for, keeping this place alive. I’m so happy that I’m going to be able to help this community.
* * *
“When did I volunteer for clean-up duty?” Rhett complains as he grabs another folding chair.
“Shut the hell up. I swear, you bitch about everything,” Reese says as he grabs his own set of folding chairs.
“I do not. It’s just, I’m the talent. Talent doesn’t clean,” Reese replies cockily, which only gets me to laugh at the two of them harder.
“Talent, my ass. I’m the talent. If you didn’t notice, I kicked ass today in my fight.” Reese puffs out his chest.
“Fight? What fight? You mean that gimme match your woman set up for you. That’s the only way you can win nowadays. I think it’s time you admit it, big brother, I’ve already got your spot.” Rhett smirks at Reese and my big hulking man takes two large steps toward his little brother.
“You know what, I think it’s about time you and I got in the ring, so we can figure out once and for all which Dyer brother is going to come out on top.”
“Bring it on!” Rhett says.
