“How many wins before that happens?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“How much the crowd likes you. But if you’re the last man standing at the end of the night, the payout is never less than five grand. You get half for now. After you prove yourself, you keep it all, minus my twenty percent.”
I did the math in my head. Six months would set me up with enough cash to get into a two-bedroom, pay the rent, and buy what Raiden needed to be comfortable. At my mother’s house he had his own room, a yard to play in, toys, and shit I couldn’t afford right now. This was a quick fix to an ongoing problem,financial stability, but not something I wanted to do long term. It was too risky.
My eyes circled the room. “What else you get?”
He chuckled. “The bar and entry, but again, I’m the one consuming all the risk and expenses. All you have to do is fight. You want in or not?”
“Yeah, I’m in but all I want is the last fight.”
“That’s not how this works.”
“Understood but if I only take the last fight and I get my ass handed to me, I’m the one who loses. I walk away with nothing.”
As he stared at me, I could see him processing. It didn’t affect him one way or another but I would be one less fighter he had to hand over a payout to.
“If that’s a risk you’re willing to take, then I’ll agree. From what I heard, there’s a good chance you’ll win.”
I didn’t react other than to further confirm I understood the odds. “I’ll take the last fight.”
He smiled too eagerly when I agreed. Travis hadn’t only connected us, he’d told him how lethal my hands were. Fighting in prison was a way to keep people away from me. It also served as an outlet. After beating the shit out of a few of the guys bare knuckled, most of the inmates kept their distance. A few got too cocky, but it never ended well. I occasionally allowed a few to think they could take me down. The pain from their hits was a reminder. She was gone, it was my fault. I wouldn’t get over the loss.
“Good, be back here Friday at nine. First fight is at ten. If you think about telling anyone about this, don’t. Invite only.Myinvite.”
“I don’t have anyone to tell,” I murmured.
“Everybody has someone.”
“I don’t,” I stated with certainty. My mother, my son. That was it and they would never know about this. It was a temporaryfix to a situation I had no control over. A few fights was a lot better than manual labor that wouldn’t pay shit. I just needed to stack some cash until I could figure out what was next.
“Then you’re the best type of fighter there is. Nothing to lose.”
I didn’t bother disputing his assertion. “If that’s all, I’m gonna head out.”
“I’m Rix.” He extended a hand to formally introduce himself. I noticed he hadn’t done that until he had my decision. Smart man. I accepted his hand and we shook. “Tell the guys at the door you’re fighting. They give you any trouble, tell them to come find me.”
“Got it.”
I turned to leave when he spoke again. “And I suggest you bring your A game. If you don’t impress me, it will be your first and last time in my ring.”
I snorted but didn’t turn to acknowledge the comment. I left.
“Are you eating?”My mother looked me over like I was wasting away. In the past five years I’d put on about twenty pounds, most of it muscle. There wasn’t much to do with my time other than workout and read, but she needed something to fuss over with me, so this was it.
I smirked and kissed my mother on the cheek. “Yeah, Ma. I’m eating. I’m not trying to hear your shit if I don’t.” She lifted her chin and glared at me and my smile expanded. “Relax, you know I’m right.”
“I didn’t know caring about my son was a sin,” she fussed.
“It’s not, just as long as you remember I’m grown.”
“Grown but still my baby. Always my baby, Grand.”
“I know, Ma.”