Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
I cry for everything that’s ever happened between us and everything that’s going to.
It’s going to be the longest day of my life.
FIFTY-SIX
CREW
The mats are cold against my skin as I go through my routine. I sit and stretch my legs, my back, my arms. I’m calm, focused on the task at hand, yet unfocused as well. I can’t get too keyed up this early. I still have a few hours before anything really happens.
I watch Will and Victor carry shit out to the car. Victor was here when I arrived this morning and asked if there was anything he could do. Sal kind of left it up to me because each fighter has different preferences as to who he wants around when he’s getting ready to brawl.
I like Victor. Our personalities mesh well. He knows his place and does his job. He defers to me, keeps his mouth shut, and works his fucking ass off. He’s helping get things loaded now and he’ll help me stay loose before the fight. I’m also having him run tickets over to Adam and Dane. I had Will give them a call a couple of days ago. This fight is happening because of their recording, after all.
My headphones are blasting Eminem. “Not Afraid” seems to be my anthem at the moment, although I’ll have “Lose Yourself ” going through my ears as I walk to the cage.
Sal walks across the mat, his gray track pants and “Believe” T-shirt on.
I take my headphones off my head.
“You about ready?” he asks, standing in front of me.
“Sal? Have I ever not been ready for a fight?”
“This is your last chance to back out,” he says with a smile.
I don’t react.
“Okay. You weigh-in in three hours, so let’s head on over to the green room and get situated. Things will start to go really fast when we get there. I hate this new same day weigh-in bullshit.”
“Yeah, but it makes sense,” I say. “Keeps guys from cutting weight crazy and then bulking up the day of.”
“It just rushes everything,” he says in disgust. “Anyway, that’s for me to worry about. Let’s get over there, get you weighed in, and do all the rule meetings and shit.”
He starts to walk away but turns abruptly. “I just wanted to say . . .” His voice trails off with a crackle. He looks away and a quick brush of nervousness passes across his face.
It causes a lump to form in my throat. In all the years I’ve known Sal D’Amato, I’ve never seen him nervous.
“We’ll chat later. Let’s go.”
JULIA
My voice is shaky. “It starts at ten,” I tell Olivia.
“Do you want me to come stay with you? Or I could bring Everleigh here?”
I sigh, my head a mess, my heart even worse.
“Does she know what’s happening?” Olivia asks.
“No, she has no idea. She thinks he’s at work today and won’t be home until late. I don’t want her knowing.”
“I’ll just come pick her up if that’s easier, Julia.”
“I don’t know what’s easier. I don’t want her to see the fight. I don’t want her to see me a wreck, either, and I’m a train wreck already. But thinking I’m going to sit here by myself and watch this go down . . .” My stomach rolls. “What if this doesn’t go the way he planned?”
“Stop thinking like that. Let him do his job. He knows what he’s doing, sweetheart. I’ll be over shortly for Everleigh. I’ll have Rory come over and it’ll be fun for them and give you some space to work this out.”
“What would I do without you?”
“I’ll be by soon.”
FIFTY-SEVEN
CREW
The focus mitts pop as I pepper them with punches. Victor moves and I hit them again.
I feel good. I feel strong. I feel quick.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
I tap the mitts lightly, getting my body ready to go.
“That’s enough,” Sal says, coming into the room. “I want you to rest for a bit before we stretch you out. We have”—he glances at his watch—“about two hours before we go.”
Victor takes off the mitts and tosses them into a chair. He looks at Sal, waiting for instruction.
“You need some water?” Will asks from the corner. He’s sitting in a chair, fielding calls and texts that are pouring in. He passes along a few well wishes every now and then. It makes me feel good that guys from the dock, from Shenanigan’s, and guys I haven’t seen in years are pulling for me tonight.
“Yeah,” I reply. I’m not really thirsty, but I know I need to be hydrated. I made weight easy this morning—185 pounds even, but I didn’t drink a lot earlier just in case.
The room is warm from too many bodies in one small space. I feel edgy, unable to calm with all the people and chaos going on. I need a few minutes to myself, a few minutes away from everyone watching me like a gladiator going into the Coliseum.