With his hands already hot and sweaty inside his gloves, and his wrists stiff from athletic tape, Lou moved to the center of the ring, still working the tightness from his shoulders and neck, and wondering if he should say something about the bandage on his forehead beneath the front of his helmet.

“So, how’s your day been?” he asked, finagling with his mouth guard to sound intelligible.

Cap’s first punch, which seemed to have arrived out of nowhere, caught Lou on the side of his headgear.

“If you’re in the ring—”

“I know, I know,” Lou said, finishing one of Cap’s favorite aphorisms, “be ready to get hit.”

“So, what do you think this is? Ballet class?”

Cap’s words were thick from speaking over and around his mouth protector, but Lou knew his translation of them was close enough. He circled, assessing his options, but not yet ready to commit to any punches. Then he made his second mistake, glancing down, momentarily mesmerized by the older man’s footwork. This time, he saw Cap’s jab coming from the right, but was no better at defending it. The blow connected against his temple with a solid thump.

“Remember how I said I’d drive you to the meeting on Friday?” Lou said, already beginning to breathe heavily. “Well, another cheap shot like that and you’ll be going by cab.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot you were just in a car accident,” Cap said. “Tell you what, I’ll go easy on you this session.”

“By easy, you mean?”

“You’ll only need to soak for an hour in the ice tub.” He grinned broadly around his green mouth guard.

Lou blocked a left-right combination and returned one of his own, which barely connected. Cap could still fight him almost blindfolded. In order to do much of anything against the man, he was going to have to concentrate.

Childless, but married “a few times here and there” when it suited his purpose, Cap had devoted his youth to boxing, spending every waking hour training in grungy gyms, slowly climbing the amateur ranks. He could dazzle opponents with his footwork, but it was his punching, as powerful with his left as he was with his right, that garnered the most attention. As a kid, he fooled around with alcohol and reefer, but then a trainer set him straight. He gave up smoking and drinking, and began to care for his body through diet, vitamins, and more training.

Eventually, Cap got his big break, scoring a professional fight against a much-hyped contender for the IBA’s middleweight belt. The fight that should have made his career was ultimately what landed him in the same halfway house where Lou would one day reside.

Alone in the dressing room, only minutes before the bout, Cap received a bouquet of flowers along with an envelope containing five one-hundred-dollar bills and a note instructing him to lose by a knockout in the seventh round. Cap knew it was a mob thing. In his circles, talk about fixing fights was as common as advice shared on punching technique. But instead of losing the fight, Cap beat his opponent to a pulp and won a technical knockout in round two.