Page 17 of Falling for the Forbidden Fighter
I slam my dad’s desk, sending stacks of paper cascading to the floor. “His first fight? AgainstRuiz? He’s got a shot at a belt. He’sundefeated.”
“So is Louis.” My dad sticks his cigar in his mouth.
I snatch it out and throw it across the office. “Undefeated in hisshipleague. You know damn well that the competition isn’t the same. Louis is great, maybe elite level afteryearsof training, but you’re setting him up for failure. It’s his first fight, and you’ve matched him with a top-five light heavyweight. This isn’t some fucking undercard. It’s an exhibition for Ruiz to put on a show. It’ll be a slaughter.”
“What do you want me to do, huh?” My dad snaps, jumping out of his chair. “This is the fight I could get. Ruiz’s opponent got hurt, and there was a short-notice opening. The kid is gonna take hometwenty grandno matter what. You trying to tell me I’m doing wrong by him?”
“And how much are you taking home?”
My dad’s body heaves like he’s about to blow before he slumps back in his chair and closes his eyes.
I regret saying it already, but I’m right.
“The gym needs the money,” he says it like it’s a fact that can’t be avoided. “It’s a win-win.”
“Yeah? Who’s gonna pay for Louis’s hospital bills?”
“If he’s smart, he’ll stay down if Ruiz puts him on the mat.”
I scoff, shaking my head. “You know he won’t. Not a chance.”
“No…” He smiles admirably. “He won’t. Louis has the spark, Catty. He’ll put up a fight, get his licks in. I know it. That’ll put him on the map. It’ll get him more fights. And, by some miracle, if he wins, it springboards his career. He’ll take the damn purse home— a hundred and fifty thousand! For hisfirstprofessional fight! Guys never get chances like this.”
“This is bullshit.” I pace the office. “I’ll tell him—“
“He already knows. What? You think I’d keep that from him?”
“You kept it from me...”
“Because you’re not the one who has to get in the ring, Catty. And because you care about him.”
I freeze, shocked by his words.
“You never liked seeing people get hurt,” he says. “I know you two are already friends. But, I’m telling you, he’s afighter. It’s his life. If it wasn’t me, he’d find someone else to get him in the ring at all costs.”
Does he know just how much I care about Louis? Could he possibly see the fight I’ve been having all week…
“I like the kid, Catty.” He gets up and puts his hands on my shoulders. “I don’t want to see him get torn up either. But this is his chance. He wants it.”
“I’ll be the one stopping the bleeding,” I hiss, tears in my eyes.
“I know. And I love you for it.”
It’s late. Saturday night, most people are heading out for some dinner, drinks, maybe a little trouble. I had a few invites from some friends, but I still find myself in the gym with my dad, my brother, and Louis. Moonlight glows in the foggy windows, casting a blue tint over the dark gym. One light over the ring glows, burning the midnight oil.
We’re barely a week into his training, and my dad is throwing everything he’s got at him.
Louis is standing in the ring, hands taped behind his back, sweat pooling wherever he steps. Ricky and my dad dance around him, gloved and firing shots at his head.
“Move!” my dad roars. “Exhaustion’s no excuse!”
Louis ducks a punch from my dad but catches another from Ricky on the side of the head. Even with his headgear on, I know that hurt.
He growls defiantly, still bobbing and weaving through the storm of punches. They had him doing a circuit before this, speed bag before that, and weightlifting an hour ago—I don’t know how he’s still breathing. I guess the Navy got his cardio up.
“Damn, you’re slow,” Ricky laughs, hitting him with a gut shot that’s impossible to dodge. “What’s wrong? Can’t catch your breath?”
“I said no gut shots,” Dad growls. “He can’t block with his hands behind his back.”
