Page 74 of Cruel Legacy

“Once or twice.”

“We do amateur night once a month, and it’s first come, first serve. If you lose, you get ten percent of the purse.”

“So, when’s the next one?”

“In two weeks.”

“Boss, we got a problem.” A guy wearing a junk yard dog chain around his neck says, hurrying over to us.

“What is it?”

“Crusher can’t fight tonight.”

“And why the hell not? He’s been scheduled for this fight for months.”

“His wife just went into labor.”

“Dammit.” Syl mutters to herself. “He was the underdog, but people are looking forward to this fight after all that IG beef.” She scans the list in her hand. “Who do we know that we can pull off standby?”

The guy shakes his head and says, “Nobody who’ll get here in time.”

Syl doesn’t like that answer. The scowl on her face says he better come up with a better one. “There’s a lotta folks out there. I’m not interested in refunding any money.”

Somebody up there loves me today. They’re rewarding me for not cutting anyone since I’ve been here. That shit with Finn doesn’t count. He cut himself. No way am I gonna stand here and miss out, and ignore the gift they’re giving me. “I can do it.”

They all turn towards me. The trainer chuckles. The guy with the chain looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. Syl has a glint in her eyes.

The chain guy says, “Not to be sexist or anything, doll, but Crusher was scheduled to fight Big Jim. They’re evenly matched in size and he was still heavily favored to lose. You wouldn’t last a round with him, with one hand tied behind his back.”

He totally sounds sexist. “One round? I’d last more than that, and he can keep both his hands free.” I turn to Syl. “Listen, put me in. If I get pummeled, you can keep your money. If I last three rounds, I get whatever Crusher’s purse was, and a guaranteed spot on the next fight night. I’m not talking about the amateur ring, either.”

Syl’s a businesswoman. I’m sure she can see how this benefits her, either way, it ends. She keeps her money, or she gets a new fighter.

“Fine. The fight is in ten minutes, but I can push it back thirty minutes and give you time to change your mind, or get ready.”

I shake my head, and let her know I don’t need any time. “I’m ready now.”

“Syl…” the trainer finally speaks. “She’s not even dressed for a fight. Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“You know my rules. They sign up to fight. It’s on them.” The trainer walks off, shaking his head. To the guy with the chain, she says, “Toro, send out a notice that the betting window will be open for another eight minutes, allowing a onetime change of bets.” She hands me a piece of paper. “Sign this waiver. And you’re all set.”

I give it a quick once over. It’s a standard liability waiver and NDA. I scribble my name and hand it back.

She points over her shoulder. “You can purchase a mouth guard at the window. There will be some tape ringside, and we have lockers back there if you wanna hang your purse up and wait.”

“I’m good with keeping it ring side.” I don’t know her or anyone else here and won’t trust my shit in their lockers. This way, if someone comes by the ring and steals shit, I’ll have a good idea who it was, and enjoy getting it back.

“Okay, then. You’re up in ten.” Syl walks off leaving me alone with Toro.

“Anything you wanna tell me about this Big Jim guy?”

“I already did. He’s huge.”

“I’m asking about his fighting style. Does he favor any particular side?”

He walks off looking butt hurt without answering me. Okay, guess it’s safe to assume Crusher was his guy and he’s about to lose out on money.

I’m glad I opted for the sports bra and jeans look tonight, I muse, as I pull off my shoes, jeans, and shirt and tape my hands, before climbing into the ring. I swing my arms back and forth to loosen up my shoulders and roll my neck from side to side.

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