Page 24 of Justice II

The last few from before everything went bad were ordinary shit. Food. The girls. Whether I would be home in time for dinner. Looking at them pissed me off worse than the lies did.

I could hear her saying those things. I could see her standing in my kitchen, looking comfortable.

For a second, I wanted to call and ask her how much of it had been real.

I locked the screen and threw the phone onto the passenger seat.

I needed to hit something that wasn’t going to get me arrested.

Priest caught me coming in and put a glove against the side of my head.

“Keep doing that,” he said.

I reset my feet.

“Doing what?”

“Announcing everything before you throw it. Makes my day easier.”

I went at him again. He moved, made me miss, then touched me up for being stupid enough to follow him.

The man had retired from the cage, but apparently nobody had told his hands.

“You mad at somebody,” he said.

“Starting to be you.”

“Good. At least you know where I am.”

He caught another punch on his glove and stepped away before I could follow it with anything worth a damn.

I could fight, but knowing how to fight didn’t mean I wanted to spend my afternoon chasing this slippery motherfucker around a ring. Every time I thought I had him, he was somewhere else, talking shit.

“Who pissed you off?” he asked.

“You asking questions or sparring?”

“I’m doing both. You’re struggling with one.”

“Man, fuck you.”

He laughed, which irritated me enough to make me reach again.

He made me pay for that too.

When the timer sounded, I backed toward the ropes and pulled my mouthpiece out.

“You enjoying yourself?” I asked.

“This is the best part of being retired. I don’t have to split this money with nobody.”

“I’m not paying you for this.”

“Then you need to quit getting your ass whooped for free. That’s bad business.”

I laughed despite myself and shook my head.

Priest leaned against the ropes while I got some water. The gym was busy enough to give us something else to listen to. Somebody was working a heavy bag near the windows. A trainer kept telling a young nigga to stop watching himself in the mirror.