Page 45 of These Dead Promises


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“You sure about that?” He swung again, catching my jaw. My head snapped back, the coppery taste of blood filling my mouth where my teeth snagged on the inside of my lip.

I wiped it away with the back of my hand and gave him a feral grin. “You’re gonna pay for that.”

Cracking my neck from side to side, I centered myself before attacking, landing a series of jabs and right hooks on him. Max grunted, staggering back against the ropes. “Ready to bow out?” I taunted.

I wanted to teach the kid a lesson. I didn’t want to inflict any real damage.

“Fuck you,” he spat, swinging for me again. But I preempted his move, ramming my shoulder into him and sending him flying backward.

“Ooof,” someone hissed, as Max lost his footing and went down, the thud of his body hitting the mat echoing through the place.

I loomed over him, feeling a tiny stab of guilt at the bruise blossoming along his jaw. He pushed up to a seated position, rubbing the back of his head. “Let’s go again,” he said. “I almost had you.”

“A good fighter knows when to quit.”

“Bullshit.” He glowered at me. “I’ve heard the stories. You don’t back down.”

“I know what the fuck I’m doing.”

He leapt up, getting right in my face.

“You really want to do this?” I stood my ground, tension crackling around us. “I already put you on your ass, don’t make me do it again.”

“Come on, man,” he goaded. “Don’t be such a pussy.”

“That mouth is going to land you in trouble if you don’t watch it.”

“Fuck you, Wilder. If you won’t fight me, I’ll find someone who will.” He went to shove past me, but I grabbed his arm.

“Not gonna happen, kid. I brought you here. I got you the introduction. I let you spar a little. You’re done here.”

“I…” His expression crumpled. “Fine.” He shirked me off and stormed out of the ring.

I spotted Bryson leaning against the door jamb, watching us. Ducking under the ropes, I jumped down off the platform and walked over to him.

“That could have gone worse,” he said.

“The kid’s a liability. I won’t bring him around again.”

“Actually, tell him he can train here, if he wants to.”

“What the fuck? You saw how hotheaded he was. He’ll never—”

“Know what I saw, Nix?” The corner of his mouth kicked up. “I saw a young guy angry and pissed at the world. A young guy looking for some kind of release. I saw you, Nix.”

“You’re kidding, right? I’m nothing like him. He’s…” I glanced over to where Max was sitting on one of the benches, chugging a bottle of water. Shoulders tense and hunched over, expression dark and moody, he reminded me of a thunderstorm about to break.

“The offer is there. But if he comes around, I want you to keep an eye on him.”

“Brys, man, come on. I don’t have time to babysit him.”

“He’s lost, Nix. Trust me when I say I know what I’m talking about.” He gave me a knowing look. I didn’t like it, the assumptions he was making about me and Max being the same.

We were nothing alike.

Max had the world at his feet. He’d probably never wanted for anything in his life. Whereas I’d had to claw for every scrap and moment of hope.

He was wrong.

He had to be.

Didn’t he?

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