bartender act. "That kid's broken two jaws this month. He's
fast, and he likes hurting people."
Big Eli closed his eyes. The headache at the base of his skull
throbbed. He hated violence. He had spent his twenties
drowning in it. As a young soldier in Vietnam, he hadn't
just seen violence; he had survived it in the worst ways
----------------------------------------
Chapter 5
----------------------------------------
imaginable. He had spent the last forty years trying to
scrub that cold, calculating part of his brain away. But his
grandson needed the farm.
"Hold my drink, Rusty."
The crowd parted with a low murmur of
confusion as the large older Black man stepped off the
sticky floor and approached the edge of the mats. He didn't
vault over the makeshift rope barrier. He awkwardly lifted
one leg over the rope, then the other, looking like a
grandfather stepping over a low fence to check on a stray
calf.
Trent stopped his shadowboxing. He dropped his hands to
his hips, a smirk cutting across his face. He looked Big Eli
up and down—the muddy boots, the oil-stained shirt, the
slight stoop in his powerful posture. "You lost, old man?"
Trent asked.
The crowd snickered. "I heard $500," Big Eli said mildly. His
voice barely carried over the whir of the industrial fans.
He looked at the duct tape holding the blue mats together.
"You got a death wish, grandpa," Trent laughed, stepping
closer and invading Big Eli's personal space. Trent smelled
----------------------------------------
Chapter 6
----------------------------------------
like spearmint gum and raw adrenaline. "I hit hard. I'm not
going to go easy on you just because you got dirt on your
jeans."
Big Eli slowly reached down and untied his work
boots. He pulled them off, placing them neatly
outside the ring. He peeled off his thick wool socks next.
His large, bare feet stepped onto the mats, scarred with
thick calluses built up from decades of hard living.
"Just ring the bell, Trent," Big Eli said.
Rusty chopped his hand down. Trent closed the distance
instantly. Disrespecting his opponent meant he didn't