Page 25 of Last Round

Killian

“Comeon,Luke.Isthat all you got?” I taunt the kid as I dodge his fist. “My nan is lighter on her feet than you are.”

Luke’s nostrils flare as he lets out a frustrated huff.

“Focus!” Declan shouts. He joined our team last year after visiting the gym. It wasn’t his plan. He wanted to ask me about retiring early because of an injury and found his answer… drowninghersorrows at my bar. I guess when you find something you love more than the spotlight, it’s easy to leave it all behind.

Luke throws another jab. I saw it coming a mile away. This time, I counter with a blow of my own. To his gut. It’s harder than necessary in a sparring match. His mouth guard flies forward and lands on the mat when he cries out. It’s a dick move, but I sweep his leg so he lands flat on his back. Standing above him, I remove my headgear.

“What’s going on?” I ask him.

He averts his gaze. “Nothing.”

“Well, thatnothingis fucking with your focus.” It’s written all over his puppy-dog face. Declan shakes his head. He can see it too. I extend a hand and help the kid to his feet. “I’m not about to give you that stereotypical speech, where I tell you that if you want to make it in this business, you gotta leave your girl behind. Or how staying single is the only way to rise to the top. I won’t deny it’s probably the easiest way. One less distraction to worry about—that’s for fucking sure.” A couple of the surrounding guys nod in agreement. “But the issue isn’t about having a girl…” He looks up at me. “It’s about having the right one.” His shoulders drop. “And she ain’t it.”

“I know.” He sighs. “It’s just… we’ve been together for a few years now. At first, Krista loved all this shit.” He gestures around. “But ever since things have been getting real, she’s been different. I can’t believe she would dump me before a match… again…”

I can.Bigger fights mean more training, time, and commitment. His girl is high-maintenance, and if she isn’t the center of his universe, she lashes out.

Declan joins the conversation, draping an arm over Luke’s shoulders. “Move on, kid. Let it go. She sure as shit has.” He draws his phone from his pocket and flips through the images of the girl making out with some guy at the club. Luke’s jaw clenches. “Dude, she’s been playing you for a while.” Declan shows Luke the date of the photo. It was taken a couple of weeks ago.Beforethey broke up.

One of the other fighters noticed her at the club and snapped the evidence for us. We agreed, as shitty as it was, to keep it between us. At the time, it didn’t seem like a good idea to tell him and risk throwing the kid off his game. But now that she’s fucking with his head anyway, might as well nail the coffin shut on this relationship so he can move on to greener pastures.

That spark Luke was missing ignites. I’m not the biggest fan of anger being a motivator in the ring. That’s a dangerous gateway to significantly more reckless habits. But, for right now, I’ll let the kid have it. After he wins his match next weekend, we’ll help him get back on track. This chick already broke his heart. I won’t let her ruin his career too.

“Let’s go again.” Luke is pumped as he adjusts his gear.

“You sure, kid?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah,” he growls and bumps fists with me. Jumping from one foot to another, he loosens up and shakes off the bad mojo his ex cast over him with herconvenientlytimed dumping.

As we resume sparring, his precision is on point and more like the hungry fighter I saw last year. It was like watching myself. I was once that kid. The one fighting in some underground warehouse, with alternating locations to avoid having the cops called in and breaking us up. Although we weren’t fighting to the death, and attempted to keep a level of order, the guys were ruthless. Broken bones and injuries that would rarely happen in a legitimate match were a common occurrence in the pits. I like to think my recklessness led my good friend Anita, now Declan’s wife, into nursing. That way, she knew what to do when patching my dumbass up.

Luke gains momentum, giving me a bit of pep in my step. It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed a fight. For just a second, it’s like back when Sean and I would spar without a care in the world. All of our hopes and dreams in front of us.

Things are going great. That’s until her fiery-red hair flashes in the distance. It’s pulled up in a tight bun on top of her head.

I never understood how a deer could get caught in a pair of headlights. Why wouldn’t they just move? I mean, if blinding lights were coming at me, I wouldn’t just stand there to see what they were. No, my ass would be moving.

Instead of dodging, I watch in slow motion as Luke’s expertly delivered right hook connects with my jaw. He sends my ass flying back. With an audibleoof, I land on the mat.

Fuck. And I swear stars and birds circle over my head like something straight out of a cartoon.

“Shit, Kill,” Sean and his blurry twin say in unison. They stand above me, along with a growing group of onlookers from the gym. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I grumble, pushing away the sets of hands reaching out for me.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to—” Luke rambles but I wave him off as I finally get my bearings and sit up.

“Don’t,” I caution him. “It was a good hit.”

“Still, I figured you’d dodge. I didn’t expect—”

The world tilts as I push to my feet. Sean is quick to help me regain my balance. “You should be proud.” I pat the kid on the shoulder. I can see his confusion and turn to Sean. “How many fights?”

“Regulation, thirty-seven,” Sean calculates. “I’m not about to guess when it comes to the others.”

“There you go. Thirty-seven (plus) times I’ve stepped in a ring of some making and you’re the first to knock me out.”

---