Caleb said quietly,
"You're reaching."
Travis pulled away.
"What?"
"You're reaching with your punches."
Travis's jaw tightened.
"I'm fine."
Caleb nodded.
"All right."
Travis attacked again.
This time he moved faster.
He threw a three-punch combination.
Caleb stepped outside the first punch.
Caught the second wrist.
And gently redirected the third.
Travis suddenly found himself turned sideways.
Caleb released him.
No throw.
No strike.
Just control.
The gym became silent.
Travis stared at him.
Caleb said,
"Your feet are too close together."
Travis backed away.
"Who taught you?"
Caleb didn't answer.
The timer sounded.
Round over.
Travis walked back toward his corner.
Mike stared at him.
"You okay?"
Travis nodded.
"Yeah."
But his face said otherwise.
Raymond approached Caleb.
"You've still got it."
Caleb smiled.
"I've got enough."
Travis overheard.
He looked over.
"Enough for what?"
Caleb met his eyes.
"Nothing."
That answer bothered Travis more than anything else.
Because for the first time in his life, someone had made him feel like he wasn't important.
And Caleb Morgan hadn't even tried.
The Second Round
Travis couldn't leave it alone.
Five minutes later, he was back on the mat.
"Again."
Raymond frowned.
"We're done."
"I want another round."
Caleb looked at Raymond.
Raymond looked back.
"You sure?"
Caleb nodded.
"One more."
Travis smiled.
This time, he intended to make a statement.
The timer beeped.
He rushed forward.
His first punch landed lightly against Caleb's shoulder.
Then another touched Caleb's ribs.
Travis grinned.
"See?"
Caleb nodded.
"Good."
Travis attacked again.
This time Caleb didn't retreat.
He stepped forward.
Their bodies came close.
Caleb caught Travis's arm.
His other hand touched Travis's shoulder.
For half a second, Travis felt nothing.
Then the floor disappeared.
His back hit the mat.
Hard.
The entire gym gasped.
Caleb had thrown him.
Not with strength.
With timing.
Travis stared at the ceiling.
Caleb stood above him.
He offered a hand.
"Easy."
Travis slapped the hand away.
He jumped up.
"What the hell was that?"
"A throw."
"I know what it was."
Caleb shrugged.
"You asked."
Travis's face turned red.
He charged.
Caleb sidestepped.
Travis stumbled.
Caleb caught the back of his shirt and guided him away from the wall.
"Watch your feet."
Travis swung.
Caleb blocked.
Travis swung again.
Caleb slipped inside.
Suddenly Travis's arm was trapped.
Caleb rotated his wrist.
Travis felt pressure.
Not enough to injure.
Enough to make the message clear.
He tapped.
Once.
Caleb released immediately.
Silence.
Travis stared at his hand.
Then at Caleb.
"Who are you?"
Caleb didn't answer.
Raymond stepped onto the mat.
"That's enough."
Travis turned toward him.
"You knew."
Raymond didn't deny it.
"I knew he could handle himself."
"That's not what I asked."
Caleb picked up his boots.
"I'm leaving."
Travis followed him with his eyes.
"You don't get to walk out."
Caleb stopped.
He looked over his shoulder.
"Why?"
"Because I want to know who you are."
Caleb smiled faintly.
"You asked me to spar."
"I did."
"And you learned something."
Travis clenched his fists.
"What?"
Caleb put his boots under one arm.
"That expensive equipment doesn't make you expensive."
The gym went silent.
Caleb walked toward the exit.
Travis stood frozen.
Raymond watched him leave.
Then he said quietly,
"You should've listened when I told you to leave him alone."
The Photograph
The next morning, Travis arrived early.
He expected to see Caleb.
He didn't.
He expected Raymond to explain.
Raymond didn't.
Instead, Travis noticed an old photograph hanging in the office.
It showed a much younger man.
Black hair.
Sharp eyes.
Military-style posture.
Standing beside a boxing ring.
There were three other men in the photograph.
One was Raymond.
Travis stared.
"Who is that?"
Raymond looked up.
He froze.
"Where did you find that?"