“Uh-huh.”
“Alright, gents. Gather ‘round,” Joe called as he shuffled up to the couches. There was a clipboard in his wrinkled, aged hands as he pushed his reading glasses up his nose and scratched his balding head. It was hard to believe this hunched-over, skinny old commentator was once a professional featherweight boxer back in his day.
Seb and I joined the group but stood behind one of the couches. Like everyone else, our attention was on Joe and his list of names.
“Shut up and listen because I’m not repeating myself,” he said gruffly before glancing down at the clipboard.
We never knew who we were up against until moments before the fight. It was supposed to reduce the risk of pre-fight arguments, gloating, and, in extreme cases, possible murder in the days leading up to a fight. It didn’t stop guys from acting like cocky dickheads though.
“K.O. and The Viper,” Joe read.
“Yes,” Seb whispered with a fist pump.
I cocked a brow. “You’ve versed him multiple times before,” I said as I looked at The Viper — a lean, tall man with a green snake tattooed on his scalp and a neatly trimmed, thick black beard. He was one of the regulars and I think he was Russian, though I had never heard him speak before.
“I’m just happy I’m not versing the newbie,” Seb said quietly with a nod to the blonde kid sitting in front of us, still fidgeting nervously.
I tipped my head back and folded my arms.
There was nothing worse than fighting a novice. They either came on too hard and fast, exhausting themselves too early, or got so overwhelmed, they froze under pressure. Most of the novices were often just kids like this one, looking for an outlet or an escape from a shitty home life.
I watched the boy closely and almost felt sorry for him until I realized Joe was nearing the end of his list and hadn’t said the new kid's name or mine.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
Seb realized at the same time I did and cracked up laughing.
“I’m glad you find this amusin’, dickhead,” I grumbled.
“Romeo and The Greenie,” Joe finished. He tucked his clipboard beneath his arm while several other fighters sniggered at the pairing. “Remember, you can’t switch who you’ve got, so don’t come crying to me if you’re upset about it.”
I lowered my head and pinched the bridge of my nose.
“The Greenie?” the boy’s voice broke, earning himself more laughter.
“Shut up, kid,” I murmured under my breath, looking up from beneath my brow.
“My name is Levi.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t specify a nickname and we don’t use real names,” Joe said as he shuffled away, “so you’re The Greenie now.”
Levi hesitated, watching as Joe left, and glanced nervously around the room. He had unintentionally put a target on his back by whining. The other fighters were milling around, some closer than others, staring him down as if they were figuring out which part of him would bruise better. They would say it was hazing.
The kid turned in his seat until his eyes landed on Seb and me. No doubt trying to figure out who Romeo was. I straightened and gave him a lazy salute, and then watched as all the color drained from his face before he whipped back around.
“This is going to be interesting,” Seb chuckled, clapping me on the shoulder as he left to warm up.
Chapter 9
Dean
Eight pairs were read out tonight and put in order of what fights would take the longest to end. The more skilled fighters were usually last. We knew how to get things done. And fast. This meant Levi was forced to wait, stewing in whatever nauseating feelings were rolling in his gut. He was sickly pale, lighter than his sandy blonde hair, and probably wondering why he was here. He hadn’t stopped pacing since finding out who he was up against, punching at the air and talking to himself, or sprinting to the trashcan to hurl up his stomach.
“You gonna go easy on him?” Seb asked, leaning back against his locker.
I folded my arms, eyes on Levi.
No matter how many concussions I had received in the past eight years, I still remembered every detail of my first fight in the basement. The stomach cramps and vomit-inducing nerves Levi was dealing with were like a flashback to the seconds counting down to when I first entered the pit.
