Page 27 of The Fight for Forever
“The lawyers are going to want to go through it with a fine-tooth comb to make sure we’re not getting screwed anyway,” Q says as he sits in one of the chairs across from my desk. “We’ll need to have them rush it and only push back about the most important things. We can’t drag this shit out by negotiating forever, or fuck, take the chance that they’ll find another venue who’ll just sign the damn thing as it is.”
If I could understand all this legal shit and knew what I was signing, I’d have my signature on the thing as fast as I could scrawl it out, but I know we can’t take any unnecessary chances. Even though the biggest payout for me will come from the betting, this is too important to fuck up.
“I hear you. I’m sending it your way, and you can explain to the lawyers that they can’t go crazy on this thing. Just make sure we’re not getting screwed. It’s not the time for them to shine by pointing out every damn detail that could go wrong.”
“Got it. I’ll deal with the lawyers. Good thing I’m already in a shit mood.” He strides out of my office, his footsteps slapping against the floor.
I check the time. Less than an hour before I need to meet my new trainer.
There’s no way I’ll be able to concentrate on anything in this office with the prospect of the fight so close I can practically taste it.Fuck it. Might as well head to the gym early.
I grab my bag and head for the door.
* * *
When I arrive at the address Bohannon texted me, which is around the corner from the gym I keep seeing him at, there is a sign that readsprofessional combat coaching.
I open the door and head inside, knowing that today has the potential to be brutal. I have less than thirty days to be ready to face Bodhi Black, and I’m going to need every single one of them to be in top shape.
When we fought three years ago, he was the hottest prospect in the city. He tore through one guy after another, leaving dozens of opponents permanently injured. Most retired from fighting immediately afterward, including me.
I didn’t lose, but I took a beating and sustained serious damage that took months to heal. I was lucky, though, because none of the injuries were major.
Unlike Bodhi’s knee.
Destroying it wasn’t my plan, and I still have guilt riding me over what happened. But it wasn’t a dirty move. He wouldn’t tap out.
I knew if I let go of the heel hook before he tapped, there was a damn good chance he was going to win, and the money from that fight enabled me to have a real shot at leveling up. Urban Legend was a great underground club, but it served its purpose, and that wasn’t the crowd I wanted to be surrounded with for the rest of my life. I may not have been raised with much, but I do know that you become like those around you.
Staying in the shadows would have meant getting sucked into action that I didn’t want to touch. Which is why I made what most people would consider a terrible decision—killing the cash cow and putting every cent I had on the biggest bet of my life ... going legit.
I’d been a criminal since I was eight, the first time I shoplifted. At sixteen, I was running with men twice my age, watching them get picked off one at a time by bullets or the cops.
That’s not the life I wanted for myself or for the people I loved.
Which brings me back to the here and now, and the doorknob I’m holding, preparing to step into a strange world that exists between the one I know and one that’s totally foreign. My fights have always come with more risk than a sanctioned fighter would possibly face, because death was never out of the question. But this one ... I may not be walking away under my own power, but at least I won’t be going out in a body bag.
At least, not if I can take out Moses first.
It’ll happen. That’s the way it has to be.
In the meantime, I need to be ready for anything.
I jog up the stairs with my bag slung over my shoulder and open the sleek glass door at the top. Inside is the sweetest training setup I’ve ever seen. It must take up the entire floor of the building.
Two different cages are set up at opposite ends of the space. One quarter is all weight lifting and cardio equipment. The last section is dedicated to heavy bags, speed bags, mats for grappling, and everything else you could possibly need to train.
A man with salt-and-pepper hair walks away from the two guys currently sparring in one of the cages and meets me where I stand near the door.
“Gabriel Legend in the flesh. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He holds out his hand to me. “I’m Jeb Goodwin.”
I shake his proffered hand. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for doing this.”
“For Bo, we’d do damn near anything, but when we heard the favor he wanted, we jumped in with both feet. I’ve been watching you for a long damn time. You’ve got skills, but with our program, you’re going to be a monster in the cage. Our gym will probably be at capacity after word gets out you trained here.”
It’s always surreal to hear when people have watched my fighting career through all those YouTube videos, but that’s the magic of the internet. It makes the world a hell of a lot smaller place.
“I appreciate it more than you know. Bodhi Black is training with my old coach. I’m definitely working from a disadvantage, because Johnson knows how I move and think.”
