Page 16 of Ravaged From Fate

Like Elsa told me, I find East Springs’ sole boxing gym easily enough. It does help that it’s one of only a handful of buildings on Main Street. A street you can walk the length of in less than ten minutes. I see the sign for the gym before I see the building, and I see the giant mural painted on the front wall before I see the front doors.

It’s a mural of Muhammad Ali with his teeth showing and his gloved fists up. If anything is designed to show the purpose of this place, this mural is it.

I raise my eyebrow at the painting before I step into the reception.

I had my doubts this morning when I considered walking here. Should I really be going to a gym? Learn to fight? After what I’ve done?

But it could be a way to meet people in this small town other than beating them up in the one bar.

Looks like any other gym as I walk in except for the massive Samoan guy behind the counter. It’s a comical sight seeing such a muscular tattooed man standing behind such a tiny desk, tapping away at a keyboard that’s much too small for his giant hands. Surely this must be the guy Elsa was telling me about.

He’s bald. Looks good on him. He’s wearing an extra tight tank top, which reveals the many black tattoos running down his bulging arms. He’s impressive to witness, even for a guy like me.

The mountain of a man tilts his head up at me as I approach, admiring my own physique.

“You’re a big boy,” he remarks at me in a surprisingly soft voice. I do not expect such a gentle tone to come forth from such a wide man. “What can I do for you?”

I tighten my lips. Talking to people is not my strongest ability, especially after being so famous for so long. I haven’t had much experience these last few years approaching people. Usually, it’s the other way around, and usually, they already know who I am. This guy clearly has got no clue he’s speaking to one of the most famous musicians on the planet.

One of the most famous former musicians. I gotta remember that.

Not that I’m complaining that he doesn’t know who I am. It’s just incredibly strange for me.

“I want to learn to box,” I reply. “Properly.”

The Samoan nods to himself and shakes his head. “I only take on a few clients,” he says. “And my roster is currently full.”

“You popular?” I ask.

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” he says. “But guys come from all over California to train here.”

We’re two alphas squaring up to each other. Nothing is aggressive. Yet. But we’re just getting the feel of each other like two lions in a cage. Sizing up.

“Elsa sent me here,” I say, and immediately the man’s narrowed eyes widen at the mention of the nurse’s name.

“Elsa? Why didn’t you say so immediately?” The man’s soft voice is full of enthusiasm now. “How do you know Elsa?”

“We sort of… bonded over a difficult situation.”

“She’s not in any trouble, is she?”

“No, she kind of saved me from trouble,” I say. The Samoan chuckles at that.

“She’s a lifesaver, that girl,” he replies. “So, you want to learn to box?”

“Yep.”

“Alright, I’ll give you a shot. Only because you have Elsa backing you. I’ll do anything for her.”

“Thanks,” I grunt.

“What’s your name, man?”

“Caspian Pierce.”

“Cyrus,” he replies, offering out his giant hand. “Nice to meet you. Welcome to my gym.”

We shake.