“Maybe you did, then, I think you’re brave now because you know you’re not going to Canada.”
Lance
I take a punch, appreciating the burn in my jaw while trying to lighten up. Jab, jab, hook. Chris’s head snaps back with each blow.
I let my frustration overpower me, and then I’m flying, my fists the propeller, my legs, the anchor.
“Watch it,” Tony growls as I dig into my sparring partner, my hooks landing too heavy for a friendly bout.
“Easy, bro,” Trevor chimes in from the side of the ring.
I’m too in the moment to ease up, ready to unleash.
Body, body, body, uppercut.
“Ease up,” Tony barks.
I charge forward cornering Chris, before unleashing another combination.
“Done. Time,” Tony calls. “Enough!”
I pull away, extending my arms out at Tony in frustration.
“Jesus, man.” Chris spits out a mouthful of blood after pulling out his mouthguard. “What the fuck are you doing?”
I blow out a breath, trying to steady my pulse. I’m still in the mood to brawl and have no outlet.
“Get him out of there,” Tony barks at Rip, one of my dad’s longtime retired ranch hands who now works in my corner. “He’s not fucking listening today.”
“I’m all ears,” I grunt, spitting out my mouthguard. “I need a match.”
“You need to work on your fucking feet. I’m done today, and so are you. What the hell were you thinking laying into him like that?”
“I’m thinking you need to get me someone in here that can fucking handle it!”
Chris tosses me a look. “Offense taken, asshole. Tony, I’m out.” Chris gathers his gear and stalks out of the barn as Tony turns back to me with accusing eyes.
“It’s called sparring for a reason.” He pulls himself up eye level with me on the side of the ring.
I tap my gloves together, still alternating on my feet. “He’s a welterweight! Get me a match!”
Tony crosses his arms perched on the side of the ring. “You know anyone else willing to come out to this cow pasture specifically for you?”
“It’s your job to figure that out!” I throw up my gloves.
“This is fucking ridiculous,” Tony says, sizing me up. “A hard hit isn’t all you need. You still need speed. You think you’re outclassing that guy? You don’t have shit on the guy you’re about to try to pound into submission. They might not land as hard as you, but it won’t matter if you can’t match their speed. And they will hit hard and land more.”
I shrug. “It’s working so far.”
“That’s it,” Tony spits. “Rip, glove me up.”
“What?” I laugh, incredulous. “You aren’t serious.”
Rip hooks Tony up with some gloves as my little brother snickers on the side of the ring. “Now you’ve done it,” Trevor laughs. “You’re about to get your ass kicked by an old man.”
“Forty-two isn’t old, you little shit,” Tony says to Trevor pointedly. “I’m just smart enough to know when to stop running my damned mouth, unlike you and your brother. There’s a lot to be gained from humility.”
Trevor, being Trevor, spouts off. “He’s practically undefeated.”