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Doesn’t matter how many times I’ve done this. A whole arena chanting the name a commentator hung on me years ago? I feel it everywhere. In my chest. In my bones. There’s nothing like it.

Hands stretch over the barriers as I pass, but I keep my eyes on the cage. Inside, I’m buzzing. This is what the last eight weeks have been for. Every round, every drill, every chicken breast.

Kovac is already inside, pacing. I remember my promise to Innes and look up towards the accessible section. I spot him, face lit up, chanting along with the rest of them. I give him a nod. Then I see who’s sitting next to him.

Briony. What’s she doing here? Didn’t Innes say he was coming with their da? Yet there she is, pale and wide-eyed, watching me. The woman who called this human cockfighting has come along to see what all the fuss is about.

She lifts her hand in a small, hesitant wave, like she’s spotted me passing her shop window. And for a strange second, I’m tempted to lift mine and wave back.

Christ, Ryan. Get your head in the game. Eyes forward.

I continue on to the cage and pull the hoodie off over my head. An official goes through the usual checks. I stand still for the grease, then climb the steps and duck through the door.

Kovac stops pacing and looks straight at me. I’ve spent weeks watching footage of him, learning what he does, where he leaves himself open. Now he’s here, shifting his weight from foot to foot, as impatient to get started as I am.

Good. Come and have a go.

The announcer introduces Kovac first. He gets a solid cheer, but when my name is called, the place explodes. I raise a glove, not taking my eyes off Kovac.

The referee calls us into the middle and runs through the final instructions. “Protect yourselves at all times” and all that. Kovac and I touch gloves then back up to our corners. I settle into my stance, and Kovac does the same. The ref checks we’re both ready, then signals for the fight to begin.

We’re on.

We move forward, hands up, eyes on each other. Near the middle, Kovac throws the first punch. I knock it aside with my glove and circle to my right, making him turn to face me.

He comes forward again. I know what he wants. Get me backing up, trap me against the fence, and unload. I’ve watched him do it to enough men. Good luck getting me there.

I stick a jab through his guard. Then another. When he brings his gloves together to block the third, I drive a kick into his thigh and get out before he can respond.

That gets a roar. I barely register it. He’s coming again.

For the next few minutes, I make him pay any time he gets near me. A straight punch down the middle. A hook to the body when he covers up. He catches me on the mouth once, hard enough to make me bite down on my gumshield, but by the time he follows with his right, I’m out of reach.

I’m quicker than him, and I’m landing more, but he gives me no time to enjoy it. Even when I catch him, I have to move. There’s always another punch coming, and I need to be ready for it.

The horn sounds. I back away from Kovac and head for my corner. The cage door opens and my team comes in. A stool is dropped behind me, and I sit. Hands are on me at once—gumshield out, water bottle to my mouth, ice against the back of my neck.

Over Davie’s shoulder, I find the accessible section before I’ve even thought about looking. There she is. Briony. She looks tense. Is she scared I’m going to get hurt? Didn’t know she cared.

“Ryan.” Davie shifts into my line of sight. “Where are you looking?”

“Nowhere.”

“Then look at me.” He waits until I do. “Good round. Keep using that jab. He’s giving you the body when you bring his hands up.”

I nod.

“And keep off the fence. Make him work to get near you.”

“Aye.” I take another mouthful of water.

An official calls for the corners to clear. The gumshield goes back in, and I get to my feet. Across the cage, Kovac rolls his shoulders and steps out of his corner.

Right. Back to work.

In the second round, I start finding his body more often. Jab upstairs, right hand to the ribs. The next time I show him the jab, his guard tightens before I’ve even thrown it.

Thank you very much. I dig another shot into his body.