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look on Del Toro’s face when you hold up that belt.”

You and me both, kid. Pride in my ability as a fighter, and anger for my inability to prove it, battle for dominance in my head.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate your support.” This kid’s got the height and the know-how. From the looks of his worn jeans, ratty shoes, and . . . everything else, I’d guess he gets his fair share of assholes at school fucking with him. That’s all any good fighter needs. Fuel. “You know your stuff. Any interest in fighting for the UFL?”

“Humph, I wish.” He shrugs and runs the back of his hand across his forehead, making his glasses lopsided. “My mom says I’m too weak for sports.” He scrunches his nose to straighten the frames on his face.

“What are you? About a buck fifty?”

“Just about.”

“You start training, pack on a little muscle. You’d be a perfect welterweight.”

His smile is so big that it looks as if it may break his face. “You really think so?”

“Think so? I know so.”

“Wow. Thanks, ‘Assassin.’” He stares at me, but his glazed eyes tell me he’s in his head. Probably picturing himself as a fighter five years down the road. He blinks. “Oh! Can I get your autograph?”

He hands me a black sharpie marker and turns around, motioning for me to sign his t-shirt.

“Sure, what’s your name?”

“Killian.”

“No shit?” Great name for a fighter.

“Yeah.” The backs of his ears turn bright red. “It’s Irish.”

I write a quick message on the shoulder of his shirt.

Killer Killian,

No one dictates your future but you.

The Assassin

I pop on the cap and hand Killian his pen.

“Good luck tomorrow night.” He stands a little taller, his voice more confident.

“You start training, you hear me?”

He smiles, nods, then turns and walks away.

Raven’s head burrows deeper into my chest. I instinctively pull her closer. Her arms wrap around my waist and she’s no longer bouncing and jittery. “That was sweet. You’re great with your fans.”

I kiss her head. “Yeah, well, they’ve been really good to me.”

But will they ever forgive me for letting them down?

“He seemed pretty confident that you’d win the fight tomorrow.” Her voice is almost a whisper as her arms tighten around my waist.

I school my voice and try to be as convincing as I can. “Look, I don’t want you to worry about this fight. Everything will go as planned. I’ll get another shot at the title in a year, maybe two. It’s just one fight. Okay?” The truth is I’m disappointed I won’t be destroying Del Toro in front of a live audience tomorrow. But in this situation, the prize for losing outweighs the heavyweight title.

I search the room again for my mom. We fall into silence for a few minutes until I spot a familiar smile in the crowd.

“There she is.” I lift my chin in her direction.

“Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh.” It seems Raven’s calm demeanor was nothing more than an intermission. She’s back to bouncing.

“Joey, my baby!”

My mom rushes to us, dropping her bags and throwing her arms around my waist. At a generous five foot five, she’s been hugging me around the waist since I was sixteen. It’s been a few months since I saw her last, but she looks the same: Dark hair without a hint of gray, styled to perfection. Her fashionable clothes, pristine makeup, and designer bag making her seem younger than her fifty-three years. Yep, hasn’t changed a bit.

“Mom. This is my girl, Raven. Raven, this is my mom.”

Pulling back, she takes a side step and grabs both of Raven’s hands. “It’s so nice to meet you, Raven. You’re just as beautiful as Joey described.”

“Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Slade.”

“Please, call me Katherine.”

“Thank you, ma’am . . . um, Katherine.”

With Raven’s hands still in her grasp, my mom looks at me. “You did good, son. She’s beautiful and polite.”

“Yeah, she is.” I shake my head. “I still can’t believe you thought I was gay.”

Raven stares at me aghast while my mom shakes her head and smiles.

Dropping her hands, my mom slips her arm into the crook at Raven’s elbow. “Come on, dear. Let me tell you about the time when my Joey was four and he ran around the front yard naked pretending to be a superhero called Super Weenie Man.”

“Shit, Ma.”

Raven giggles.

“Watch that mouth, Joey. You’re in the presence of ladies.”

Grabbing her bags, I walk behind two of the three women I love the most in the world.

***

“Jonah, wait up!”

I’m heading into the training center, after dropping my mom and Raven off at my house, when Blake’s voice causes an about face. I have a quick training session and a short meeting I need to wrap up so I can get back to them for dinner.

“What’s up, Blake?”

“Dude, we got problems.”

We’re standing on the sidewalk outside the training center’s doors, and Blake looks around like he’s checking for snipers.

“Ah, shit. What now?”

“Okay, I was at Zeus’s last night and I ended up hooking up with this new girl, Sherry, or Terry . . . Mary?” His eyes go skyward as he scratches his cheek and shakes his head. “Whatever. She mentioned that a guy—”

“Zeus’s? I thought you tagged Camille last night?”

His body freezes. “Camille! I can’t believe you unleashed that crazy . . .” He closes his eyes and rubs his temples as if to organize his thoughts. His eyes open and he glares at me. “We’re gonna talk about that, but first the stripper.”

I nod, unable to manage the smile that is wreaking havoc on my face. It’s not often Blake has issues with girls.

“So, the stripper,” he continues, “told me a guy named Dominick had offered her a job as an escort. I guess she thought that’d impress me.” He rolls his eyes. “Anyway, she told me a few of the girls accepted his offer and—”

“You gonna get to the point where you tell me what the fuck this has to do with me?”

“Dude, listen. And stop interrupting. Shit.” He folds his arms

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