"On the rope, Eddie." Ballard hasn’t even said good morning yet and is already pointing him where to start. He’s more aggressive than usual today, but it’s not new to Eddie. He’s seen him in this role before.

  Eddie tosses his bag aside and starts without waiting for instructions from Ballard. The jump rope’s never been his favorite, but no one’s come up with a better warm-up in the gym. When he was younger, he could go ten, even fifteen minutes. Now, by the sixth skip, his heart’s in his throat, pounding there. The good thing is it’s still morning, and he’s the first one in. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the others, though he’s also eager for them to show up.

  Ballard himself is his saving grace. Holding a coffee cup, he sits in the front row of the bleachers in Rex’s small neighborhood gym, right by Eddie.

  "Starting today, we’re doing twice a day." Eddie knew it’d come to this, but he doesn’t want to be the one to bring it up. "You’ve got ten days till the fight."

  Ten? Eddie doesn’t ask him out loud. He pretends he knew. But he’d thought he had at least a month. Ten days is way too short.

  "I heard you signed yesterday. Rex is happy. I assume you are too."

  Eddie’s stopped jumping, still catching his breath, and just nods.

  "Hope you’re happy. You’re damn lucky, you know. No one around here gets that kind of money. Especially not at your level."

  "If it weren’t for the money, I wouldn’t have agreed, Ballard."

  "Nonsense. You’d fight for free. I know you well enough. And Rex knows you even better. The money thing…" Ballard takes a sip of his coffee before going on. "Rex saw an opportunity and squeezed out as much as he could. Rex isn’t made for Brantley. This town’s too small for him. I keep telling him to get out and promote big stars…"

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  "Aren’t we doing this for Rory?"

  "Rory’s a media star. This town hasn’t produced a decent athlete in ages. Now everyone’s gushing over Rory Flint. Honestly, he’s nothing special."

  "He’s still young."

  "Young, sure. That’s true. But I wouldn’t bet on that horse. I’m old, though—no one asks me."

  Eddie’s sitting on the floor now, stretching his muscles to keep from cooling down. The brain has a magical way of wiping out useless knowledge but bringing it back when you need it. It’s like it’s running his training on its own. He knows after the rope comes stretching. Then running, which he hopes to skip this time. And Ballard hasn’t brought it up yet.

  "You’re not working anymore, right?" Ballard’s watching him closely but also wants to chat.

  "Yesterday was my last day. Now I’m all yours."

  "Ten days, twice a day." Ballard gestures with his hand like he’s counting beats to a song. "You don’t have Rory’s strength, and there’s no way you’ll catch up. You’re too old to match his explosiveness or speed. So we’ll lean on what you’ve always done best."

  "Take punches."

  Ballard laughs.

  "You’ve got the best chin I’ve ever seen. If the kid doesn’t drop you in the first two rounds, he’ll get rattled. That’s a huge weakness with young boxers. By the third round, he’ll go all-or-nothing."

  "That wouldn’t be so bad. His managers want to see the best of him, right?" Eddie’s on his feet now, grabbing the rope again. Not that he wants to jump, but he can’t just stand there while Ballard talks.

  "Well, it’d be in his best interest not to knock you out in the first round, but I don’t think he can anyway. One thing I’m sure of—" Ballard stands up. "I won’t have to throw in the white towel for you. You don’t quit."

  Ballard turns his back and heads to his little room. Then he stops, like he forgot something, and turns back to Eddie:

  "Stanley and Edgar will be here this afternoon for sparring. Since it’s your first day, I’ll go easy on you this morning. Three sets of fifty push-ups and sprints outside the gym till you can’t anymore. Then you’re free. Do whatever you want, and I’ll see you back here with the guys this afternoon."