Page 17 of The Way We Fight

I was still frozen, waiting for Al to keep talking, but when he glanced my way, I realized he was done. What did I say? I didn't really want Al knowing I was the new NFL official either, so fair was fair.

“Yeah, sure. I mean, it's not my business.”

“Thank you,” Al breathed. “He started back in the gym a couple weeks ago and has been going through my guys like pinatas at a kid’s birthday party. He needs this match up and to let out whatever he's going through.”

Curiosity got the best of me, and Al seemed like a talker, so I dared to ask, “What is he going through?”

“Fuck, I don’t know. He went off to New York for some meetings a few months ago and when he got back, he stopped coming into the gym. I would check in on him, but he seemed good, like whatever his meetings were about were enough to settle him down a little. Levi has been coming to the gym and fighting for a couple years. It helps him release all that stress.”

I nodded because I knew what he meant. It was the same reason I got in the ring sometimes. It was cathartic, punching someone in a safe and monitored environment. There were rules and structure so all you had to do was follow those rules and let the therapy session take root.

“A couple weeks ago, he showed up after a game and said he needed to punch something and has been on a tear since.” Al was still talking, still over sharing. But he was speaking almost like a father, someone that just cared about Coach Peyton and wanted someone else to know what he had been going through.

“Well, Sisco will make it hard on him,” I elbowed Al and walked off, letting the conversation die. I didn't want to know anything else about Levi Peyton. He needed to remain the asshole coach that griped about my play calls and cussed me out behind my back. Not the guy that showed up to fight it out in the ring. That was the kind of guy I could relate to more than he knew, and I didn’t want to relate to him at all.

I was standing near the ring when he came out of the locker room. He was in boxing shorts, a t-shirt, and had his gloves on and his wrists taped up. He met up with Al who guided him to the other side of the ring.

Not once did he glance my way, but I knew he knew I was watching. He listened as Al put his headgear on for him and hyped him up a little.

It reminded me that I was supposed to be doing that for Sisco, not staring at the opponent. Luckily, Sisco was already in full fight mode and was taking jabs at the air behind me.

“Sisco!” I yelled, getting his attention. I motioned for him to get in the ring, and he climbed under the ropes gracefully. He shook his shoulders out and bounced around while I did what Bobby paid me to do. “Ok, listen up. This one looks like a pretty boy; you may have to go easy on him.”

Sisco stopped moving and stared at me. He had never been told to go easy, he probably didn't even understand the words. I chanced a peek up at Coach Peyton and realized he had heard what I said. Then I looked back at Sisco and laughed.

“Just kidding, Big Guy. Have fun and leave some marks.”

Sisco never lost. He fought by the rules and was a good opponent. He was a good sportsman as well. But his long, powerful arms were too much for everyone he ever fought. At 28 years old, Sisco was in better shape than anyone else in the gym, no matter their age or how strong they were.

“Let's do this,” Bobby shouted, calling for Sisco to leave me in the middle of the ring. I had almost forgotten Bobby asked me to call the fight. As a member of the gym, I helped prep Sisco, but now I had to get into officiating mode.

Holy shit,I thought to myself. I realized that Levi was about to learn that I was once again the official that was standing in his way. I imagined he was going to lose his mind. When Sisco lands a knockout blow, he will blame me for not calling a fair fight.

But I couldn't back out. Having his buddy, Al, in the gym was making it all extra fun for Bobby. That was why he didn't want to call the fight himself. It was like a friendly rival for them, and Bobby wanted to be in Sisco’s corner, not in the middle of the punches.

“Ok guys,” I breathed, making it clear I was the referee. “Come meet in the center.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed in on me as Al pulled the shirt over his head. My mouth inadvertently started to drool at seeing his bare chest again. Fuck, I once licked that entire chest and bit his nipples just to tease him.

How am I going to do this?

"Let's have a clean fight,” I said once they made their way to the center, “Touch hands and then back to your corners."

They did as I instructed but I could tell Levi was wary of the fact that I was refereeing. Surely, he could understand by now that officiating was what I did, right?

I motioned for Bond to ring the bell and in an instant, they were swinging fists and throwing punches.

Meanwhile, I was left in a state of complete shock.

Chapter10

Levi

Rhys and I had been running five minutes behind schedule because I spent most of my morning getting yelled at by Richard for the loss the day before. He seemed to take our first loss extremely badly and used it as a way to threaten me into doing things the way I didn't want to do them. I had worked for him for four years, each year got worse and worse with his involvement in how I coached the team.

He didn’t understand that for even the best teams in the world, winning one hundred percent of the time wasn’t sustainable. His ideas and perspectives made me irate.

However, his call did give me fuel to go punch someone. Mix that with seeing Charleigh in the same gym and my head nearly exploded.

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