Triplets Make Five

SEVEN

DILLON

I trained hard at the gym all that week. Every time I smashed a guy’s face I imagined it was one of those two thugs who had gone after Berkley. I was fighting better than I ever had, anger sitting deep in my belly that came out through my hands. I was just toweling off after another round in the cage with a couple of rookies when a man I had only seen at fights approached me. He was older than me but not by much and in a black suit with shifty eyes. I could tell right away that something was off about him.

“You had a good fight last week. You won a lot of people a lot of money.”

I looked at him, deciding whether or not he was even worth my time to talk. “I’ve had a lot of good fights, I win a lot of people a lot of money. People like that.”

He smiled crookedly. “Yes they do. But fighters deserve a bigger cut, don’t you think?”

He passed me his business card, and it was for a gym on the other side of town. I’d heard of it in passing, but the fighters there weren’t good enough for me. “What’s my fighting to you, anyway?”

“When I see you, I see opportunity. I’m sure you’ve heard of the underground fights in town. My gym hosts them.”

So that’s who this asshole was. The guy who got fighters so beat up in underground fights that they could never go legit again. There were no rules. That wasn’t the type of reward I was interested in.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of them. But I’m strictly legit, man,” I attempted to hand the business card back to him. I looked over to my right and saw Leo eyeing me closely. I could tell he was preparing to intervene, chase this guy off.

“I’m not saying you’re not. I’m just saying that there’s a ten grand payout on Saturday night if you’re interested.”

He didn’t move to take the card back.

“Ten thousand? What’s the payout for the fighter?”

He lowered his voice to a whisper, “Eighty percent, bet that’s better than what you’re making here. You keep that card. Call me if you’re interested.”

He turned and walked away just as Leo arrived next to me. I slipped the business card inside into my left hand. Eight grand was more than I made in a month, if I could make that from one fight that would set my mom up for the next few months. She could finally take a break.

“Who the hell was that?”

I rolled my eyes and played it off. “Nobody important. Just some guy who might want to do some advertising with me. I don’t need another sponsor, though. It’s just more time away from the gym. Nothing to worry about.”

He studied

me closely. He knew I was lying. He always did. “You listen to me son. You stay in this cage at this gym, you understand that?”

I shrugged. “What happens when I’m too big for this gym, Leo?” I flashed a smile his way.

He shook his head but couldn’t contain a small smile himself. “I swear to God kid, your ego is bigger than any gym. I’m surprised it can even fit in here. Go hit the showers, you smell worse than the locker room.”

I walked away thinking about how dangerous the card in my hand was. And how I was a sucker for risk.

EIGHT

DILLON

On Thursday night I couldn’t help but look for Berkley in the crowd. Even Leo could see that I was distracted after the fight. Media and girls were swarming me, but I looked over their heads and scanned the crowd for those piercing blue eyes. I didn’t see her anywhere. I guess that was the end of that.

“How does it feel to be the number one fighter in the city?” A reporter asked me I sucked down some water before answering her.

“Number one in the city? I’m the number one in the whole damn state. Soon the country. And don’t you forget it.”

“Well that sounds like a winning attitude.”

I spun around to see Berkley right behind me, her friend just off her shoulder. “Attitude is what wins fights.”

“I thought it was fists and knees that did.”