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They’d given me the name, which had carried over into my boxing career. We’d been through a lot together. I was the youngest in the group. We’d become friends when they’d found me in the alley behind the gym, fighting off three dudes who were several years older than me when we were just kids. They’d jumped in when they’d realized that I was outnumbered, and we’d been best friends ever since.
“Yes. Who the fuck do we need to hurt for the latest shit that fuckface is pulling?” Hayes leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. He was a firefighter, and it showed. He was big and tough and a total badass.
“He’s just looking for attention.” I shrugged, trying to act unaffected, when the truth was, this shit was getting to me.
Leo “The Flamethrower” Burns was a professional fighter. They called him The Flamethrower because he claimed his right hook was the kiss of death.
He lost the belt to Gunner Waverly a few months ago. It was the one single loss in his entire career, and he’d been whining about it to anyone who would listen for months. He wanted a rematch. Claimed it was an off day and that Gunner got lucky.
He was a big name in the industry. He had a huge following on social media, and the press loved him because he was completely out of control and unpredictable. He’d thrown a chair through a restaurant window when he claimed the hostess hadn’t recognized him and tried to make him wait for a table.
The guy was a complete douchebag. And for whatever fucked-up reason, I was on his radar now. In an odd turn of events, the fight that had given me professional status a few years ago was against Gunner Waverly. He’d just become a professional fighter at the time. My father had pulled some strings, and Gunner had agreed to fight me. He wasn’t a bigname back then, and it had barely been news when I’d beat him. But I’d stepped away from fighting shortly after and walked away from the boxing world.
Gunner had gone on to make a real name for himself. He’d taken the belt from Leo, and Leo had been going on every news channel that would listen, demanding a rematch. Fast forward a few weeks, and Gunner Waverly got into a car accident and ended up getting his foot amputated.
I can’t make this shit up.
He’d officially retired, and Leo hadn’t stopped throwing a tantrum since it happened. The man had lost his goddamn foot, and all Leo could do was complain about not getting his rematch.
That was when I got dragged into this shit.
In an odd turn of events, it just so happened that the last fight Gunner Waverly had lost was to me. Hence the reason Leo was now fixated on redeeming his name by fighting me.
Leo was the last person to hold the belt before Gunner, and he believed I was the person he should fight to win his belt back. To prove to everyone that he was deserving of said title.
Even though no one knew who the fuck I was.
And I was just fine with that.
“He’s a fucking prick. But if you agree to fight this asshole, you know that we will be in your corner the whole way,” Kingston said, shaking his head. My boys had been at every single one of my fights since I’d started boxing in high school.
It was just the way we were. We always showed up for one another.
Ride or die.
“Damn. I remember that fight with Gunner, man. You dropped his ass, and everyone was stunned.” River rubbed his hands together. “But this Leo situation is out of control. I knowyou’re on the fence about getting back in the ring, but I’ve got to tell you… I’d love to see you shut this guy up.”
I’d stopped fighting the day my father collapsed ringside a few months after that fight with Gunner, and he’d died a few hours later. I’d lost my desire to fight, and I’d started running the gym with my dad’s partner at Knockout, Rocco, who’d since retired a year ago. He’d worked out a way for me to buy him out, and now the place was mine, and it kept me plenty busy. I trained a few fighters, overlooked the staff, and kept the lights on in this place. I made enough to live comfortably, but I certainly wasn’t rolling in dough, and this fight would be a quick way to make some cash.
While my sister was away at school, I was doing my best to keep my mom and my grandmother moving forward since my father’s passing. I’d been grateful when we’d moved my grandmother in with my mother because I didn’t like the idea of either of them being alone.
“I don’t know. I talked to Lincoln about it, and he said not to let his goading get to me. He’s dealt with this shit a lot more than I have.” Lincoln Hendrix was my older brother, who I’d only found out about after my father died. Our dad had left a letter for my unknown brother, and I’d tracked him down, and we’d been close ever since.
“I think Leo is enjoying the fact that you’ve got a famous older brother, too,” Nash said. “He’s really running his mouth. And I have to say, Cutler would sure love to see Uncle Ro in a real fight.”
Cutler was Nash’s son, who’d been one of us since the day he was born. He was almost six years old, and the dude was the coolest little kid I’d ever met. We were all four named his godfathers, and there wasn’t anything we wouldn’t do for him. Nash was basically raising him on his own, minus the occasional weekends his ex showed up to spend time with him. So, in a way,Cutler was all of ours. He started taking some boxing lessons from me a few weeks ago because he suddenly wanted to learn how to fight.
“Yeah. He told me last week that he wants to see me fight. I thought maybe I’d drag one of you into the ring with me and spar a little,” I said with a laugh.
“I don’t know. You might want to take Leo up on his offer. Did you see what he put out yesterday with that whole play on your name?” River changed his voice to sound like a little girl and did his best impression. “Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo.”
Leo had been interviewed on a major sports channel, and when they’d asked about his next fight, he’d pulled theRomeobullshit. If I had a nickel for every time someone had said those fucking words to me—well, I wouldn’t have to consider getting back in the ring again.
The truth was, this shit was wearing on me.
Everyone in town was asking if I was going to go knock his ass out because the asshole wouldn’t shut up, and he continued to take a shot at me every chance he got.
“He’s just trying to rattle you,” Nash said. “If you want to get in the ring, I will fully support that, because seeing you destroy him would be fucking fantastic. But if you want to stay retired, you don’t owe this prick a fucking thing.”
