Dante Harris was running. Running from an abusive past. Running from a messy break up. Running from the life he left in the small city of Round Rock Texas.
Somehow this small town boy has found himself in the busy streets of New York City, and in t...
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"What a fucking day." I sighed, tossing the beaten up boxing gloves into the trash bin near the end of the lockers.
"I'm going to kill that kid." Grayson replied, tossing his own tattered gloves into the trash. Tonight we had pushed our old gloves to the breaking point. Grayson and I liked to spar each other after a long day. It wore us out, yes, but it also helped us sleep better. I wasn't too concerned about throwing this old pair out because we were expecting new shipment in a few days. I wanted the guys to practice with some better equipment before sections.
"Kyle is a fucking idiot, trust me, I know." I sighed, taking a big swig of water.
"He tried to trip me, Sammy. That's a highly illegal move- one we could all get disqualified for in sections." Grayson snapped back. He rarely ever took this tone with me, but today he was rightfully pissed. I had only caught of glimpse of what Kyle had tried, when I was making it out of the back room. As soon as I did, I pulled Kyle out of the ring by his ear and threw him up against the wall.
"If you EVER pull some shit like that in my fucking gym again, you're done. Do you understand?" I bellowed into his face. All that big dick energy Kyle had, immediately disintegrated as he gave me a nod. "I didn't fucking get that!"
"Yes sir." He spoke up, refusing to meet my eye contact.
And that was that. I put him on clean up and a practice bag for the rest of the week. Told him if he didn't like the punishment, he shouldn't bother showing up at all.
I thought I had reacted in a justifiable way, but Grayson didn't mess around when it came to shit like that. He had just gotten back to one hundred percent after a terrible ankle injury that rocked him in every aspect of his life. If Kyle had seriously hurt Grayson, Grayson might have actually killed him.
A week on trash duty was a much better alternative, in my opinion.
"He won't do it again." I told Grayson. And I was sure of that. Regardless of how utterly stupid this kid was, boxing meant a lot to him. He wasn't going to jeopardize that. I think he also realized that I was saving his own ass from what the hell Grayson was surely about to do to him.
"Damn fucking straight he won't. I'm sick and damn tired of these fucking kids, man." Grayson was putting on some deodorant in a last ditch effort to hide the smell of sweat. We were meeting up at Tidal Wave in a few minutes so Grayson could pick up Kassie after her shift. Sometimes Kassie had Chris stay after a bit to help with the clean up... Grayson would never admit it to anyone, but he definitely had a crush on her.
We had showers located in the locker room, but Grayson preferred to take his at home. I gave him a good hose down with my axe spray to help mask the scent a little better. I had to at least do my part, ya know? If I was being honest however, he just smelt like axe and sweat now.
