Chapter 1

one

. . .

Romeo

Burping.

Farting.

Giving one another shit.

It was what we did best.

Me and the guys sat in the same seats we sat in every week for what seemed like forever. Creatures of habit or superstition—maybe a little of both. Boxers aren’t like race car drivers in that way, though. No, you won’t find stinky socks that a guy’s been wearing for a year, but we do have our own beliefs that some may think are quirky, thus the seating arrangement. We’d been meeting at Knockout, the gym I now owned, where we’d been coming since we were kids. I’d grown up here.

Hell, in a way, we all had.

“Lots to talk about today.” River quirked a brow at both Kingston and Nash. He took no shit and was the first to call you out if he had a problem with something.

“Are we still whining about the fucking coffee shop?” Kingston groaned. Kingston and River were the only biological brothers in the group, but we were all brothers in our own way.

In the way that mattered most.

Nash barked out a laugh. He and Kingston owned ROD Construction, which stood for Ride or Die, the words we’d all marked on our skin years ago. “Dude, it was a job. What were we going to do? Turn her down? We’d look like dicks if we refused to work on the project. We’ve done every renovation downtown since we opened the doors four years ago.”

“Newsflash, assholes. You still look like dicks. That has nothing to do with the jobs that you take.” River chuckled. “But I think you’re just afraid of pissing off the Crawfords.”

The Crawford family owned most of the real estate in Magnolia Falls, the small town we’d all grown up in. Their name was on the main drag street sign—also the schools in town, the library… the list was endless. They were rich as fuck, and we had our reasons for hating them.

But I’d sided with Nash and Kingston when it came to working on the building. The money was good, and their company was thriving. I wouldn’t let my personal issues get in the way of them building their business.

Demi Crawford, who’d come home after being away at school for years, had decided to open a coffee shop right next door to my gym. The guys were there to do a job, not hang out with her. River didn’t quite see it that way.

“I’ve told you that Saylor became friends with her while she was away at school, and according to the ray of sunshine who I somehow share DNA with, Demi’s a cool girl. Her words, not mine. Obviously.” Hayes rolled his eyes, referencing his younger sister, whom he adored and who was much friendlier than her broody older brother. “The Crawfords are no friends of mine, but it doesn’t mean we won’t occasionally have to work with one of them, seeing as we live in the same small fucking town as they do. I did have to put out that fire in their guesthouse last year, and you didn’t shame me for not letting it burn down.”

“Whatever. The job is finally done.” River sipped his coffee and leaned back on the leather couch in the back room, where we always held our meetings. “We can stop ass-kissing the devil now?”

“Correct. But I’ve got to tell you, she isn’t the rich, bitchy girl you think she is,” Kingston said, holding his hands up to stop River from jumping down his throat. “I’m not defending her. I’m calling it as I see it. She renovated the apartment above the shop, as well, and she’s going to be living there. Not quite the princess in the tower that you seem to envision. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Oh, let me guess. You’re going to try to date a fucking Crawford now?” River hissed.

“Take it down a notch, dickhead. King was out with me last night, and I can assure you, he’s not looking to date anyone,” Hayes said over his laughter. “He’s looking to date everyone.”

“Well, don’t make me sound like an asshole. I just like to keep my options open. And no, I’m not looking to date Demi Crawford. She’s far too sweet for me.” Kingston waggled his brows, knowing he was getting under his brother’s skin.

The disdain for the Crawfords ran deep for all of us. Rightfully so. But Demi wasn’t really involved in that, and none of us knew her all that well, seeing as she attended the fancy private school in town, and we all went to public school.

On the days that we actually attended.

None of us had been scholarly, but we’d made it through.

River and I had both gone through a hard time after those months we spent in juvie, but we’d worked hard to get our lives back on track.

Once you’d been labeled a bad kid, it was tough to turn things around.

People love to judge—and judge they did.

“Those Crawfords have evil running through their blood. But we’ve wasted enough time talking about them. Let’s move on to the elephant in the room, shall we, Golden Boy?” River turned his attention to me.

They’d given me the name, which had carried over into my boxing career. We’d been through a lot together. I was the youngest in the group. We’d become friends when they’d found me in the alley behind the gym, fighting off three dudes who were several years older than me when we were just kids. They’d jumped in when they’d realized that I was outnumbered, and we’d been best friends ever since.

“Yes. Who the fuck do we need to hurt for the latest shit that fuckface is pulling?” Hayes leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. He was a firefighter, and it showed. He was big and tough and a total badass.

“He’s just looking for attention.” I shrugged, trying to act unaffected, when the truth was, this shit was getting to me.

Leo “The Flamethrower” Burns was a professional fighter. They called him The Flamethrower because he claimed his right hook was the kiss of death.

He lost the belt to Gunner Waverly a few months ago. It was the one single loss in his entire career, and he’d been whining about it to anyone who would listen for months. He wanted a rematch. Claimed it was an off day and that Gunner got lucky.

He was a big name in the industry. He had a huge following on social media, and the press loved him because he was completely out of control and unpredictable. He’d thrown a chair through a restaurant window when he claimed the hostess hadn’t recognized him and tried to make him wait for a table.

The guy was a complete douchebag. And for whatever fucked-up reason, I was on his radar now. In an odd turn of events, the fight that had given me professional status a few years ago was against Gunner Waverly. He’d just become a professional fighter at the time. My father had pulled some strings, and Gunner had agreed to fight me. He wasn’t a big name back then, and it had barely been news when I’d beat him. But I’d stepped away from fighting shortly after and walked away from the boxing world.

Gunner had gone on to make a real name for himself. He’d taken the belt from Leo, and Leo had been going on every news channel that would listen, demanding a rematch. Fast forward a few weeks, and Gunner Waverly got into a car accident and ended up getting his foot amputated.

I can’t make this shit up.

He’d officially retired, and Leo hadn’t stopped throwing a tantrum since it happened. The man had lost his goddamn foot, and all Leo could do was complain about not getting his rematch.

That was when I got dragged into this shit.

In an odd turn of events, it just so happened that the last fight Gunner Waverly had lost was to me. Hence the reason Leo was now fixated on redeeming his name by fighting me.

Leo was the last person to hold the belt before Gunner, and he believed I was the person he should fight to win his belt back. To prove to everyone that he was deserving of said title.

Even though no one knew who the fuck I was.

And I was just fine with that.

“He’s a fucking prick. But if you agree to fight this asshole, you know that we will be in your corner the whole way,” Kingston said, shaking his head. My boys had been at every single one of my fights since I’d started boxing in high school.

It was just the way we were. We always showed up for one another.

Ride or die.

“Damn. I remember that fight with Gunner, man. You dropped his ass, and everyone was stunned.” River rubbed his hands together. “But this Leo situation is out of control. I know you’re on the fence about getting back in the ring, but I’ve got to tell you… I’d love to see you shut this guy up.”

I’d stopped fighting the day my father collapsed ringside a few months after that fight with Gunner, and he’d died a few hours later. I’d lost my desire to fight, and I’d started running the gym with my dad’s partner at Knockout, Rocco, who’d since retired a year ago. He’d worked out a way for me to buy him out, and now the place was mine, and it kept me plenty busy. I trained a few fighters, overlooked the staff, and kept the lights on in this place. I made enough to live comfortably, but I certainly wasn’t rolling in dough, and this fight would be a quick way to make some cash.

While my sister was away at school, I was doing my best to keep my mom and my grandmother moving forward since my father’s passing. I’d been grateful when we’d moved my grandmother in with my mother because I didn’t like the idea of either of them being alone.

“I don’t know. I talked to Lincoln about it, and he said not to let his goading get to me. He’s dealt with this shit a lot more than I have.” Lincoln Hendrix was my older brother, who I’d only found out about after my father died. Our dad had left a letter for my unknown brother, and I’d tracked him down, and we’d been close ever since.

“I think Leo is enjoying the fact that you’ve got a famous older brother, too,” Nash said. “He’s really running his mouth. And I have to say, Cutler would sure love to see Uncle Ro in a real fight.”

Cutler was Nash’s son, who’d been one of us since the day he was born. He was almost six years old, and the dude was the coolest little kid I’d ever met. We were all four named his godfathers, and there wasn’t anything we wouldn’t do for him. Nash was basically raising him on his own, minus the occasional weekends his ex showed up to spend time with him. So, in a way, Cutler was all of ours. He started taking some boxing lessons from me a few weeks ago because he suddenly wanted to learn how to fight.

“Yeah. He told me last week that he wants to see me fight. I thought maybe I’d drag one of you into the ring with me and spar a little,” I said with a laugh.

“I don’t know. You might want to take Leo up on his offer. Did you see what he put out yesterday with that whole play on your name?” River changed his voice to sound like a little girl and did his best impression. “Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo.”

Leo had been interviewed on a major sports channel, and when they’d asked about his next fight, he’d pulled the Romeo bullshit. If I had a nickel for every time someone had said those fucking words to me—well, I wouldn’t have to consider getting back in the ring again.

The truth was, this shit was wearing on me.

Everyone in town was asking if I was going to go knock his ass out because the asshole wouldn’t shut up, and he continued to take a shot at me every chance he got.

“He’s just trying to rattle you,” Nash said. “If you want to get in the ring, I will fully support that, because seeing you destroy him would be fucking fantastic. But if you want to stay retired, you don’t owe this prick a fucking thing.”

“True that.” Hayes held up his coffee, and we all did the same.

“I need to think about it. I don’t know what the fuck I want to do.” I cleared my throat and turned back to Nash. “Are you bringing Cutler over after school today?”

Nash and Kingston were working on a huge renovation for the city right now, and he’d be working late.

“Yeah. Thanks, man. It’ll just be a few hours, and then I’ll swing by and grab him after dinner.”

“Sounds good. I’ll let him play in the ring for a little bit and we’ll grab some pizza.”

“Cutler is a lucky little dude. He’s got the coolest fucking uncles around. Imagine the swagger that kid will have by the time he’s in high school.” River barked out a laugh.

“Let’s slow our roll, all right? He already never takes off that goddamn leather coat you got him.” Nash raised a brow at River before turning to Kingston. “And now he’s asking how old he has to be to get the Ride or Die tattoo because someone told him he’d have to get inked someday to be in our brotherhood. That was fucked up, King. He’s not even six years old, and he’s asking me to get a fucking tattoo.”

Kingston held up his hands and smirked. “Dude. When he was over last week, I had my shirt off, and he wouldn’t stop asking questions about it. He also told me he doesn’t like his name and wants to change it.”

“What is the fucking deal with his name? He told me it doesn’t feel like him, and he’s working on figuring out his new name. I’m probably fucking this kid up more than I even realize.” Nash ran a hand over his face.

“Hey,” I said. “Cutler is the coolest little dude I’ve ever met. He’s a confident kid. Hell, I didn’t have his swagger when I was five years old.”

“I don’t know… young Romeo was breaking hearts and kicking kids’ asses that were twice his size behind the gym at a fairly young age,” Hayes said over his laughter. “But I agree. You have nothing to worry about with your boy. He’s growing up with a lot of love. And we can’t all say that, can we?”

Everyone nodded. We’d all had tough childhoods, each in our own right.

But we’d survived just fine, and it was probably what had led us to one another.

To this friendship.

This brotherhood.

We all wanted things to be easier for Cutler. He may not have a traditional home, but he was surrounded by family, and our love for that little boy was fierce.

“Damn straight. Cutler is more loved than any of your ugly mugs ever were.” River pushed to his feet.

My phone vibrated, and I glanced down and groaned.

“What is it?” Kingston asked.

“Mimi wants me to bring her and my mom some sort of pumpkin spice drink from Magnolia Beans one day this week.” I rolled my eyes. Anytime something new opened in town, my mom and my grandmother made it a big deal.

“Fuck. I’d say don’t do it if it were anyone other than Mimi and your mom asking. I guess we’re all drinking Crawford coffee now.” River flipped us the bird as he tossed his paper cup into the trash.

“It’s not personal. We still hate the Crawfords,” Kingston said. “But I do love me a pumpkin chai latte with a foamy heart on top.”

More laughter.

We did our usual handshake, and Hayes called out our chant on his way out the door.

“Ride or die. Brothers till the end. Loyalty always. Forever my friend.” He held up a peace sign and walked out the door.

And I made my way out to the gym to get back to work.

I had a lot on my mind, and I needed to make a decision on the fight soon.