Torn - Part Four (The Torn Series) Read Free Page B

around the gym.
     
    And besides, I’d promised Surly. I wouldn’t pass up a chance to see him if he was willing to start talking.
     
    Lee was on me the minute I arrived. “Shit, Mal, you look like hell,” he said, though the old man was grinning. “Glad you’re on your feet.”
     
    “Of course I’m on my feet.” I shook his hand. “What’s a couple ribs?”
     
    “You ain’t training today, are you?” he asked, looking me up and down. I was trying to keep the hunch out of my stance but I wasn’t very successful.
     
    “No, no. I’m just here to see the guys and hang out if you don’t mind.”
     
    “’Course not.” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t know the cops were gonna show up, Mal. Sorry, for what it’s worth.”
     
    “Not your fault,” I said. I knew whose fault it was, but I wasn’t about to share that information with anybody. I’d deal with it myself in time. At least it was an unrelated guy who’d done it, not someone from within the gym holding a grudge.
     
    “Listen,” Lee said, “After what happened, with all the money floating around on your fight with your brother, well, I’ve moved the match to Jersey.”
     
    I groaned. It was the right move but nobody would like it. A good number of our fans wouldn’t be willing to travel that far despite the fact that it wasn’t actually that long of a distance. Some people just had a mental block against the trip.
     
    But for whatever reason, it was more legit in Jersey. I was even allowed to get paid, so I sure as hell wasn’t going to argue.
     
    Surly wasn’t there yet so I spent my time giving unsolicited advice to the newer members. It was better to annoy them than to let them hurt themselves, so Lee encouraged us to annoy the shit out of them.
     
    “You’ll fuck up your shoulder if you keep overextending like that,” I told one young guy as he sparred with what looked like his twin. Were these kids starting to show up younger, or was I just getting old? It was hard to tell. I didn’t feel old, but my face was starting to look it.
     
    Or maybe I was just tired.
     
    Surly showed up later than he normally would. The poor guy looked about as enthusiastic and alert as I felt, which was to say, shitty.
     
    I followed him into the locker rooms. They were quiet - most of the serious fighters were already out on the floors.
     
    “How you feeling?” he asked, gesturing at my side.
     
    “Fucked up,” I said. “I’ve probably got to lay off training for two weeks at least. No sparring for a good while.”
     
    “Shit.” He knew all about the fight with my brother. It was a subject of much speculation amongst the guys, really. A few had even taken to calling us “Cain and Abel,” though hopefully neither of us would end up dead at the end of our match.
     
    “Want me to watch you?” I asked. I might not be able to spar him but I could take notes and give him pointers. We had to function as each other’s coaches, after all, since we couldn’t afford professionals. At least, we had been before our little argument.
     
    “Yeah,” he said, keeping his eyes down. “Thanks.”
     
    I gave him a few suggestions as he beat on one of the bags that lined the gym, but there really wasn’t very much to say. Surly was in his prime. Despite the stress of the previous few days, he was nearly flawless.
     
    He shook his head when I told him as much. “We can always be better. There’s always someone better.”
     
    I wanted to ask him why he was so down but that wasn’t our way. Instead I said, “You sound like you need a drink. After practice?”
     
    He considered it in brooding silence. “All right,” he said.
     
    “Riley will hook us up with a free beer or three if we go to her place.”
     
    “That fucking tiki shithole? I don’t think so.”
     
    Coconut Cup where she worked really was lame as hell. I only went there to see her. Definitely not for the mixed drinks - they had so much sugar that your teeth would