“So what’s the catch?” I asked, sure he was holding back some important detail.
Shaking his head, he frowned. “No catch. He wants a great fighter to go up against his best guy, and I thought of you.”
“So what’s the glum face about?”
I still wasn’t convinced he wasn’t holding out on me.
“I can’t believe you would think I wouldn’t tell you everything about this. You go down, I go down, so you can trust me.”
“Yeah. You know how it is. If something sounds too good to be true, you better believe it is. No probably about it.”
Floyd nodded. “Usually, I’d say I agree with you, but not this time. Nate’s a decent guy, as far as promoters go, and he wants a good fight more than anything else. I think you can give him that. That’s why I told him I’d talk to you about it.”
I didn’t have to hear any more. The money was good enough for me to travel to some two-bit town in West Virginia, and if Floyd’s friend Nate wanted a good fighter, I was his man.
“I’m in. When’s the match?”
Tilting his head left and right, Floyd grimaced. “That’s the tough part. It’s at the end of next week. You’ve got a fight for Robert just a few days after. Do you think you can do it?”
Whether I could do it or not had nothing to do with the answer I had to give. I needed money and fast, and this fight could give me it.
I stood from my folding chair and felt a whole new group of aches settle into my back and legs. Even Floyd would start to think I couldn’t do it if I looked like a beaten up eighty-year-old guy, so I pushed down the urge to groan about how much like hammered shit I felt and flashed him a shit-eating grin.
“I’ve done it so far. You giving up on me?” I joked, hoping he didn’t see how much fucking pain I was in just standing there.
With a smile, he shook his head. “No way. You’ve got a date with destiny, son. I’m convinced fate loves you, even as she’s a fickle bitch with everyone else in the world.”
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
He said something about me taking it easy until then, but I wasn’t listening anymore. The only thought in my mind at that moment was getting home and making it to that tub.
***
Robert stood pouringhimself a drink at the bar on the far side of his office as I walked in for a meeting he’d called for with me just an hour before. Thankfully, he hadn’t ordered me in for one of his talks the night before because I probably wouldn’t have been able to pretend I wasn’t in agony. As it was, soaking in the tub for over an hour hadn’t helped as much as I had hoped it would, but at least if I had to sit in front of him now, I could act like I wasn’t feeling like shit.
He turned around and headed back toward his desk to sit down before he began talking. “So how is training going, Ryder?” he asked in a voice that made me wonder if he knew what I was up to on the side.
“Good, as always. Floyd’s got me in great condition, and sparring more often than before has made me even sharper.”
All of that was true. The lie was that I was training just for his fights.
Raising his eyebrows, he opened his eyes wide. “I hope he’s not working you too hard. I need you in top condition for this next fight, and a tired fighter isn’t going to get me what I want.”
My blood ran cold for a moment as I studied his expression. I expected he knew how often I trained with Floyd, but did he know the real reason?
“No, I’m good. I’ll do what I’m supposed to that night. You don’t have to worry.”
Robert’s mouth turned up in one of his terrifying crocodile smiles. “Oh, I’m not worried. If you don’t, Floyd better worry, though, because I’ll be looking at what he’s been doing with you in the past few weeks.”
I hated the idea of Floyd paying the price if I didn’t win. He was sticking his neck out as much as I was sneaking around behind Robert’s back.
“Floyd’s good. He knows the ins and outs of this business better than anyone else I’ve ever met. He won’t do anything to hurt my chances.”
“You two go way back. I forgot about that. He was the one who let you live in my warehouse before I found you. I’m just wondering if he’s being too hard on you.”
A nervous chuckle escaped from my throat. “I’m a big boy. Whatever he’s doing in training is nothing compared to what other fighters can do to me. It seems to be working, so why fix what’s not broken?”
Robert appeared to think about what I said and nodded. “As long as you don’t get broken. I can’t make money off a fighter who can’t fight.”