Page 13 of Keepsake

“Stay out of my business, Paddy,” I growled into his face.

“If you want to make money, you gotta tell me when you’re coming for a fight.”

“I came to break someone’s face. I bet half of town would be glad if it was yours.”

His nostrils flared, his Adam’s apple bobbing under my hand. “Save the rage for the ring.”

I chuckled, releasing him to a hop on my feet. Shaking my head, I went back to getting ready. “You have twenty minutes, Paddy. Make it count.”

Never saw the man move so fast, his greasy fingers on his phone as he alerted all his regulars. The rules in Paddy’s house were simple. Anyone could fight. But at first, they fight for free. You showed up and no one bet on you, so you were just there, punching suckers for nothing.

As bets came in, the cut was still shit because Paddy was a greedy fucker, but I never came in for money anyway. I preferred those days when no one knew about me, when no one was betting, and I could just fight.

Nowadays, Paddy got a stiffy when I walked through those doors. And if that wasn’t disturbing enough, he acted like we were some sort of partners. He wanted to schedule my fights, let it brew with his clients. Put me against the other big fighters.

I cracked my neck, rolling my shoulders back as I watched myself in the foggy mirror ahead. The shorts I wore dropped low, my tattoos covered one side of my body.

Another disappointment to my mother. She said I was a good man, that she raised me right and fighting wasn’t a good man’s path and neither were tattoos.

It didn’t matter when I explained MMA was a sport. Even when I proved I was good over and over again, and I started getting sponsors. To her, it was mindless fighting with no technique.

When I left home, I thought they would see my success and change their minds. Proving them wrong was my mission and I wouldn’t stop until my picture was everywhere.

Instead, I played the sport with mild success for a long time. My face was nowhere, my name wasn’t known, so they never changed their minds. They called for Christmas, but no one called saying they regretted their words about my career.

In my stupid quest to prove myself, I missed what was going on with Sofia.

My hands closed in a fist as I thought about what Logan said. Sofia watched my fights. I was barely part of her life and she thought of me as her hero?

A growl escaped from my throat, and I shot a look at Paddy. “Now.”

He glanced at his watch, nodding quickly. Leaving behind Paddy, the lockers, and that gross smell of mold that always lingered, I opened the door. It was the middle of the week, but the word definitely spread in the time I allowed Paddy to work his bets.

The pristine MMA cage I got used to was left behind when I retired. Now, I crossed Paddy’s shitty gym, heading to an even shittier ring, as I refused to look anyone in the eye.

I cut through the crowd and headed straight in, only stopping to lift the rope. I waited in a corner, my hands full of tension, cracking my neck to the side.

Their cheers were deafening, and I did my best to ignore them. I waited as Paddy found someone worthy of fighting me. I eyed my opponent, some big guy I saw around. Bushy beard, trying too hard to intimidate me with a sneer.

“Gentleman, are you ready for El Toro?” Paddy shouted, egging on the crowd.

Roars came from each corner, my opponent’s eyes narrowing as he realized how out of his depth he was.

El Toro. A stupid nickname from my MMA days, but even I couldn’t deny it.

Once I was in the ring, I only saw red.

I wiped a finger over my lips, testing my feet on the ring to avoid sliding. Big man watched me, wary for the first time. The crowd screamed El Toro at the top of their lungs, and I knew I had it.

Not because I had a reputation. Not because I had professional training. Not because I was better.

I had this fight because I had nothing else.

I had a shitty relationship with my parents. My little sister killed herself. My failures were overwhelming.

The only person who saw grandeur in me was the little sister I left behind. The one who I let my parents pressure into being with the kids’ father even though I hated him from the second I met him.

Big man met me in the middle. Paddy signaled, and the fight started. Blow after blow, I barely felt it.

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