The Guy in the Middle (The Underdogs 3) - Page 78
“To prove to myself I can handle it.”
Again, I slam my fist into the bag, the momentum pushing Tony back.
“Props, man. I would have pissed a circle around her.”
“Trust me, I fucking wanted to.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“Don’t be, you don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“It’s okay to think, as long as you never act. It would do you good to remember that. And you’re making the bag bleed. I haven’t seen you this amped up in a hot damn minute.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
“Sure you do, you’re giving her a choice.”
“He’s here. He’s in her world. I’m not.”
“I’m not much for girl talk, but if I remember correctly, at one time, you were her world.”
“Right,” I do another combo, and Tony’s again pushed back by the force of it. “That’s why she left.”
“Easy, man. This is just a warm-up. And maybe that’s why you’re here. Not for another chance with her, but to finally front her out about leaving you so abruptly.”
I shake my head. “You think I’m such a damned egomaniac I can’t handle getting dumped?”
“By her, dumped by her. She’s the difference.”
It’s the truth. Post breakup, I had to spend a lot of time training with Tony. He watched me fight through it all and has been around every minute since. He’s one of the only true friends in my life, one I respect.
I tag the bag again with a hard right, and he shakes his head.
“Jesus, don’t throw like that at the charity fight, you’ll kill the guy.”
“Why are we doing this anyway?”
“It looks good on the résumé,” he answers. “And before you think about canceling it to spend more time in New York, think again, it may be a charity fight, but we’re getting a decent paycheck, and we both need it.”
“I know. I won’t.”
“I mean it, man.”
“I fucking won’t!” I roar as Tony steps back
, and I lay into the bag.
“Chill, you’re going to spend yourself on warmup, and we have a match in five.”
We’re training in one of the nastiest dumps I’ve ever been in, and that’s saying a lot for having grown up in a town with one stoplight.
“Where did you find this shithole?”
“I trained here for a while before I went pro. Don’t knock it, some of the greats stemmed from here. And anyway, platinum training doesn’t keep anyone hungry. You stay in the gutter, you stay hungry.”
“Wise words from the Buddha of Boxing.”
Tony grins, reminding me of Joe Pesci—who he could pass as a cousin for—just with added height. “Damned right, and it will do you good to remember it.”
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