My dad had always been on the career track. Honestly, I don’t even think he thought I would go to college. By this time we were supposed to be living in the White House. But there was an assassination attempt on my father’s life when I was sixteen. He was running for president and was shot on the campaign trail. Everyone just refers to it as “his accident,” but it was a life-changing event. The bullet had just nipped part of his spine, but it had left him paralyzed from the waist down, and our lives hadn’t been the same since. He had to give up his campaign, and soon after he couldn’t handle being governor anymore either. It was just too much stress, and it wasn’t good for his health. My mother had been the glue that had kept the family together—she stood by his side through all of it. Not that I would’ve expected any less of her. But now our Christmas cards looked a little bit different, my father in a wheelchair my mother standing with her hand on his shoulder. It was a complete role reversal for them, but they seem to be making it work, and for that I was truly happy. My younger brother I think had secretly never wanted to move to the White House, so he was glad to just be running around and drinking and partying as much as he could before he graduated high school next year. I was supposed to be an only child, hence the age gap.
As I settled into my seat in my first class of my last semester of college, I thought about the fact that I still didn’t have a plan. There were tons of sophomores and juniors filtering in around me who still had a year or two to make some decisions. I had less than four months to completely get my life back on track. I opened my laptop and sent Naomi an email.
We need to work on my résumé tonight. I’ll grab a bottle of wine after dinner.
She sent me a message back just a couple minutes later, which surprised me. I figured she’d already laid down for a nap after breakfast.
No bueno. That guy I’m seeing? Apparently he’s really into MMA fighting and got some tickets for a fight tonight. We are going out.
I pulled out my cell phone as a professor was droning on about the syllabus for the semester and sent her a text.
We? As in the two of you? Or the two of us?
We as in Elliott and me, his friend Josh, and you. It is time to get back on the horse.
I noticed I was getting a hairy eyeball from the professor who had more hair in his eyebrows than he did on his head and I shut my phone off and slipped it back into my bag. A date? At some fight? I’d never been to a fight in my entire life. And why would some guy think that that would be a good date? Watching a couple other super-hot guys with their shirts off beating the shit out of each other? As much as I would enjoy the view, it didn’t really seem like a good place to get to know someone. But maybe that’s exactly what I needed. Maybe Josh was just a distraction that would help me get my life back on track.
THREE
DILLON
“Are you ready?”
“I’m always ready. The question is if the other guy is or not.”
Leo smiled at me in a fatherly sort of way. I hadn’t known my own dad, and my mom had enrolled me in boxing when I was just a kid. Leo had taken over that role for me. He taught me what was to be a fighter, he took care of me. When the other guys joined gangs, I just spent more time at the gym. It was where I was safe, protected from the outside world. From the streets.
My best friend was shot and killed when I was seventeen. He went to a party, it was a Friday night, and I was at the gym getting a workout in. I’d wanted to go to that party so badly, but Leo wouldn’t let me. He booked a fight the next morning specifically so I wouldn’t be able go out with my friends. I was so pissed at him. And then I got a call on my walk home that there’d been a drive-by and my friend was dead. I remember my mother crying hysterically, asking me again and again if I’d been there, if I’d seen anything. I didn’t answer her. I just ran through the dark streets until I got home and I let her fall into my arms, and I held her while she sobbed.
I cried at his funeral.
It was the last time I had ever shed a tear.
Fighters don’t cry.
“Any idea what the purse is tonight? Mom’s really been wanting a new car, but the payments are just too much for her. I want to put money down so that she doesn’t have worry about it.”
Leo smiled at me. “It’s five grand. Same as always, 50-50 split between the gym and you. I think a nice $2500 down payment should do the trick.” He put his arm around me, “It’s a good thing that you’re doing for your mom. But remember to spend a little on yourself sometimes, okay?”
I looked at him blankly, “What do I have to spend it on?”
“If you don’t dodge his right hook, new teeth for one.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got this.”
He nodded at me. “I’m sure you do, kid. I’m sure you do.”
He walked away and I started bouncing on my feet, loosening up my muscles. He would come back for me in about an hour, but he always left me to my own thoughts right before a fight. He knew I needed the time to myself to get out of my own head and into my opponent’s. I would take this guy down, just like all the others.
FOUR
BERKLEY
“So what time are these guys picking us up?” I asked as I changed my shirt and looked for a set of boots to wear.
“Actually, we’re meeting them there. I figured we could catch a cab to head downtown. No reason for us to drive, and I doubt that we’d find parking anyway. We’re meeting them outside to grab our tickets, and then we’ll go in together.”
I gave Naomi a look. “Some date. First I don’t even know this guy’s last name, and now you’re telling me he’s not even coming to pick me up. You sure know how to pick ‘em.”