chapter eight | FIRST FIGHT

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The following day, Rylee came downstairs, dressed for a casual day around the house. On Wednesdays, Skip and he had agreed to take it easy and let his body recover from the training.

"Hungry?" Skip offered, holding up a plate of sloppy beans saturating a piece of slightly burnt toast.

Rylee scrunched his nose and shook his head. "Running out of food, I see?"

Skip placed the plate onto the table and wiped his hands on his trousers. "Haven't really gotten around to shopping. Probably should sometime today, which brings me to a change of plans."

Rylee wandered into the kitchen, scouring the counters and cupboards for anything more appetising than what he had just been offered. "Yeah? I like surprises, sometimes."

"Well, I know I said you weren't entirely ready for a fight, but I was thinking today if maybe you wanted to go down to my ring and just get a feel of the atmosphere?"

Rylee's ears perked up at the mention of the ring, and something inside him stirred with growing excitement. He nodded his head. "Of course, I'd want to do that. Sounds exciting."

Skip shrugged. "Well, where we're going, it's a rough area. Don't expect anything glamorous. I was talking with one of my mates this morning, he's actually the manager of the fight club, and he's pretty ready for a new fighter."

"What you mean?"

"Well," Skip grabbed his jacket and held it for a moment while he searched for words to explain. "Erm, well, my mate's job is to get in good fighters to make good money. You have to remember, it's a betting game, and we haven't been in any solid fights because we're lacking a strong fighter."

Rylee cocked an eyebrow. "Then why are you bringing me?"

Skip huffed. "I didn't say you weren't good. I said you weren't 'ready'. You've got loads of potential. You're just not as prepared as I want you to be to fight other, better fighters out there. Make sense?"

"Sure."

"He wants to meet us in half an hour, so I was going to leave now and get something to eat on the way, if that's fine with you?"

"Right, well, let me grab my jacket and I'll follow you out." Rylee gave him a nod, letting him know not to stand there and wait for him, so Skip left the kitchen to wait outside.

Rylee stood in the doorway of the kitchen, collecting his thoughts and calming his nerves. He had a feeling that they weren't going to just 'watch' a fight – he knew Skip well enough that he was going to be sized up against someone else. Skip wasn't as patient as he made himself out to be.

Rylee started pacing the kitchen, his fingertips running along the countertops – his mind turning like well-oiled gears. If Skip was planning to put him in a fight, he knew he had to be composed and quick. He couldn't disappoint the trainer.

Slipping on his jacket, Rylee tossed Riddick his now cold beans on toast and stepped out the door. Closing it behind him, he turned to Skip and gave him the nod to get going.

"You alright?" Skip asked as the two of them headed towards his car.

"What's the plan? Really? I feel like you never tell me things up front. It's alright, I'm not going to wig out or anything."

"Rylee, most of the time I don't tell you what I'm doing because, honestly, I'm still figuring it out. And I don't like giving out instructions if they aren't truly set in stone, you know? But, I do want you to see what an underground fight looks like. See if it's something you're really into."

"Right. Well, give me a heads up if something changes, yeah?" Rylee popped opened the passenger side of the car and ducked in.

Skip exhaled slowly and opened his door. He paused before getting in, contemplating Rylee's request. He did owe the boy honesty if he wanted to gain his trust...

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