Page 266 of Hard Rider


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“What’s the money like?” I asked.

“Oh, right, the money. I like when a fighter can get to the point. Have you hired an agent yet?”

“No,” I laughed. “Not even close; should I?”

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea. Get yourself an agent and a manager. You won’t have to pay them anything up front and I’m pretty sure you’re gonna have plenty of them jumping at the chance to represent you. You’ve got the look and the skills to make a lot of money in this sport. Hell, I won’t be surprised if I lose you to one of the bigger promotions within two years.”

“I’ll consider it.”

I got to my truck and ducked in out of the cold. I had the day off, and I already knew where I was going next.

“As for your pay,” he continued. “I think you’ll be satisfied.”

“We’ll see. How about you be a little more specific,” I said.

“Numbers… you want the numbers.”

Yes, the numbers, Dumbass.

“Hey, I gotta know how much I’m gonna be paying some blood-sucking agent, right?”

“Of course,” he laughed again. It didn’t seem genuine. “Well…” there was a long pause. “What would you say to four thousand to show up, and another four thousand if you win?”

That sounded fucking incredible, but I wasn’t going to let him know that. “Hmm,” I said with a little bit of disappointment in my voice.

“Well, Troy, that’s the going rate for our new talent.”

“Four grand for each sounds okay,” I said. “But eight and eight sounds better. Remember, Mr. Gold, I’m not a going rate fighter.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. During my stint in the county jail, I ran into car salesman who was doing time for fraud. He talked non-stop, but one of the only things I remembered him telling me was that during a negotiation, the first person to break a silence always lost. I wondered if Mr. Gold knew that rule, too.

“Eight and eight is going to be tough to do,” he said, finally.

“Then I’m going to have a tough time signing that fight agreement.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on now. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” There was another long pause. “Eight and eight, you say?”

“If you can get me that, I’ll sign today.”

“Ah, what the hell? You have yourself a deal. Congratulations Troy, you’re now officially a professional.”

“You won’t regret it Mr. Gold. I’ll put on a show for the fans.”

I ended the call and fired up my truck. Sixteen thousand dollars was gonna buy me a much nicer ride. Doing the quick math in my head, I figured that if I fought every couple of months, I’d be in a position to quit my job around March. That way, I could train full time—maybe I could even pick up a few sponsors. Plus, I could demand more money after I got a few wins under my belt.

I’d been toying around with idea of giving Ortiz a “no” on his proposal and this sealed it for me. At first, I was just going to do it for him. I needed to get him off my back, and the money wouldn’t hurt either. But that night Riley stopped by…

I’d just come out of the shower and she was curled up in the corner of my bed like a scared kitten. I asked what was wrong, but at first, she didn’t answer. Her gaze was going past me toward the wall.

“What is that doing here?” she’d asked, carefully.

I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten to put away the gun. I was always so damn exhausted that it never crossed my mind. Not to mention, I didn’t expect her to just pop in like that.

After some back and forth, she calmed down. I made up a quick story about how it was for protection because of the neighborhood I lived in. That seemed to make sense to her. I promised I’d get rid of it at the first chance I had and she let her guard back down.

We spent a lot of time talking after that. She wasn’t quite the sheltered rich kid I’d believed, but we were definitely different. She was all torn up about messing things up with her job. I promised her that we’d keep a low profile if she wanted to get together again. I don’t think that did anything to ease her worries.

The only thing I knew was that I had to make sure there was another time. And another one after that. Her body was a story of its own. Once I’d gotten a taste, I knew I couldn’t let her get away. Just thinking about how good she was made me start to sweat. I had to focus.

Eddie Salazar probably still lived east of the park. It wasn’t for certain, but guys like him rarely moved. I didn’t want to bother with Ortiz, so I thought I would send the message through him since he got me into this whole thing.

Turning down Bauer Street, I saw Eddie’s Buick parked in front of a fire hydrant. It was a rusted-out piece of shit that he’d tried to dress up with tinted windows and flashy rims. It stuck out like a sore thumb.

I parked behind it and hopped out. It was just my luck that he was coming down the stairs from his building when I walked up.

“Yo, is that Troy Eason?”

“Yeah, it’s me you little worm. And I’m looking for you.”

“Worm? C’mon, brother. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is you told Damon Ortiz I would steal a car for him. What the hell is wrong with you? You know I’m not looking for that life anymore.”

His heavy winter coat billowed around him like a protective bubble. He wore his knit cap pulled down so low that it was hard to see his eyes. “Naw, I never told Damon you’d steal that car. I just mentioned you workin’ in a shop before. It was his idea.”

“Here’s a tip: don’t go around mentioning stuff that has nothing to do with you,” I barked.

“You’re pissed over that? Just tell him ‘no’.” He was drumming his hands on his legs. I wanted to snap his fingers off.

“He wasn’t in the mood to hear ‘no’,” I said. “That’s why you’re gonna tell him for me.”

“I’m not-”

“Yes you are, Eddie,” I said, grabbing him by the sleeve. “You’re gonna tell him, and you’re gonna do it today. I don’t want to hear anything else about it.”

“Alright man, fuck,” he whined, ripping free of my grip. “You got anger issues Troy.”

“No, I just don’t have any patience for little jerk offs who can’t keep their mouth shut.”

“Cool, whatever, I’ll tell him,” he said. “But I can’t promise you anything.” He walked around to the front of his car and climbed in. The exhaust pipe belched black smoke when he started it. “If he wants to pursue it any further, then that’s between the two of you.”

I leaned against the grill of my truck as Eddie putted off down the street. He through a peace sign out the window and sneered.

Something told me it wasn’t going to be the last I heard about this.

Riley

I showed up at his gym as soon as he called me. I felt a little bit special, if not honored, that I was the person he wanted to talk to when he found out he was getting a fight.

Work had been going smoother than expected. After talking to Troy the other night, I felt a lot better about the situation. He understood my concerns and was onboard with trying to keep things quiet. We didn’t know where it was going, but we both agreed that we owed it to each other to find out.

Even though this was more of a personal get together, I brought along his file so we could record it as our last meeting. After this, all we had to do was get Hemlock to stamp her approval on it and send it to the judge. I was almost as eager as he was.

Running up to the front, I noticed all the lights were off besides the one at the entrance. I checked the time: almost eleven-thirty. It was later than I thought. I supposed everyone else had gone home.

“Hey!”

I almost jumped out of my shoes. Troy was right behind me. “Ahh! You scared me! What are you doing?”

“My fault,” he chuckled. “I just went for a little run. I thought I’d make it back before you got here.”

His breath came out in steamy burs

ts. “You didn’t,” I scolded. “And you scared the life out of me.”

“Alright, alright. I said I was sorry.”

He slid a key into the lock and opened the gym. “Look at you,” I teased. “I wouldn’t trust you with a key to my place.”

“They know I’m gonna own it someday, anyway.”

His confidence walked a tightrope bordering on arrogance. “Well, I wanted to congratulate you on the big news. That’s such an awesome-"

“Forget about that,” he said.

Troy rushed me through the doors so fast that my feet barely scraped the ground. It was like I was floating across the room. He had me in his sights the same way an expert hunter holds a trophy buck in the scope of his rifle. I wasn’t getting out of this—even if I wanted to.

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