inhiscorner

moment, and all he could do was think about how he
should have taken the subway. To make matters worse,
his uncle was completely oblivious to his anxious state,
and had spent the last hour trying to get Eli to reconsider
his decision, which he had no intention of doing.

"Rule number one: don't touch his gloves if he ain't

wearin' 'em. Not unless you're looking to get your face
acquainted with 'em."

With a quick glance over at his uncle, Eli attempted

to deduce whether the man was pulling his leg or not. It
was  hard  to  tell  with  Jasper.  He  always  wore  the  same
cantankerous  scowl.  "Are  you  saying  if  I  touch  his
gloves,  he'll  punch  me  in  the  face?"  Eli’s  fingers
instinctively touched his jaw.

"That's exactly what I'm sayin'. Which brings me to

rule number two. Don't make him repeat himself. It
annoys him."

"Shouldn't that have been part of the 'things Jessie

Dalton  finds  annoying'  list?  Which,  according  to  you,
seems  to  be  everything."  Eli  moved  his  gaze  back  out
the  window  as  his  uncle's  old  Model  T  made  its  way
through  North  Brooklyn  toward  Big  John's  Gym.  He
might have all but begged his uncle to let him take the
job, but he hadn't expected a list of rules so extensive it
could rival Webster's Dictionary.

Jasper took a sharp turn that had Eli flailing his arms

and scrambling to get a hold of whatever was within
reach in order to keep himself from getting flung across
the front seat, or worse, out of the automobile. Again, he
asked himself why he hadn't taken the subway.

"Rule number three," Jasper continued. "Don't razz

him."

"Razz him?" Eli scoffed. "Jasper, the man's over six

and a half feet tall, weighs two-hundred and forty-five
pounds, and is known as 'The Demon'. Don't worry. I

have no intention of insulting his mother. I don't
understand. Why are you trying to make him sound like
a bastard?"

"I ain't trying to make him sound like one. He is one."
Finally, they pulled into the narrow alley between

John's  Gym  and  a  boarded  up  house  that  was
undoubtedly a speakeasy. The joints were popping up at
an  alarming  rate  all  over  the  city.  Not  that  he  was
complaining. He happened to enjoy the occasional glass
of booze, providing it wasn't made with rubbing alcohol
or  formaldehyde.  Boy,  he  could  really  do  with  a  little
something to fortify his nerves right about now.

"I don't remember there being this many rules. In

fact, I don't remember there being any rules at all. Are
you trying to give me the jitters? Because you're the one
who agreed I could do the job in the first place."

"I just…" Jasper killed the engine and sat for a

moment, for the first time in a long time, looking every
bit his weary sixty-seven years. "I just don't want you to
be disappointed, kid. I know Dalton's your hero, but he
ain't what he used to be." The sorrow in his uncle's voice
caught Eli by surprise.

"What do you mean?"
Jasper turned toward him, his voice low as if

someone  might  overhear  them,  like  maybe  Dalton
himself. "Come on, kid. Look at Dempsey. Twenty eight
years  old  and  on  top  of  the  world.  Dalton's  peaking
forty, and not a good forty, either. His health ain't what
it  used  to  be.  All  those  years  of  brawling  and  bare-
knuckle boxing in saloons did a number on him. And his
heart…"  Jasper  shook  his  head  sadly.  "Losing  the  title
was one thing, he could have won that back. It was that
goddamn trial that broke him."

"Is that why he stopped accepting challenges?

Because of the trial? He was found innocent." Had his

hero really thrown in the towel at the height of his career
over  one  incident?  Eli  refused  to  believe  that.  Jessie
"The  Demon"  Dalton  had  been  one  of  the  greatest
boxers  Eli  had  ever  known.  With  forty  wins  under  his
belt,  two  draws,  and  two  no  contests,  Dalton  had  been
unstoppable,  a  force  to  be  reckoned  with  in  and  out  of
the  ring,  and  an  undefeated  World  Heavyweight
Champion,  until  four  years  ago  in  1919,  when  he  had
lost the title to Henrick Hutton.

"Do you know what it's like to not only have your

reputation  torn  to  shreds,  but  to  have  folks  remember
you  for  nothing  other  than  that  one  failure?"  Jasper
climbed out of the car and slammed the door, muttering
something  under  his  breath  while  he  walked  around  to
wait  for  Eli,  who  stepped  out  onto  the  running  board,
trying not to think about what had happened five years
ago.

At first Eli had understood Jessie needing time to

himself after the trial, but soon Eli had begun to wonder
if it was something else. He had snuck out of the house
one night, and showed up on Dalton's doorstep, ready to
confess his long-buried feelings, only to have his world
come crashing down on him when some blonde woman
in a skimpy nightdress answered the door. Eli had
promptly informed her he had made a mistake, and had
run off before he could make a bigger one. He had had
five years to get over Jessie Dalton, and yet…

Following Jasper into the gym, Eli was unable to

hold back a smile when he caught the familiar scent of
leather and arnica that permeated the air all around him.
He  had  been  just  a  kid  the  first  time  he  had  walked  in
here,  trailing  behind  his  big  manager  uncle.  Jasper
"Mayhem" Mayhew had discovered an eighteen year old
Dalton  brawling  for  money  in  some  dusty,  backwater
saloon, and the two had quickly become friends. Years

later, Jasper was still Dalton's biggest supporter, fiercest
defender, and the reason he refused to retire. He was
also the one who had introduced Eli to Dalton all those
years ago.

Eli would never forget that day. He had been eight

years old and a speck compared to the muscular, twenty-
one year old Dalton who had knelt before Eli's scrawny
frame, sporting a wide grin, black shorts, a pair of beat
up  old  leather  boxing  gloves,  and  equally  beat  up  old
leather boots. Eli didn't think he had ever seen anyone as
heroic or incredibly handsome as Dalton. His dark eyes
were nearly as black as his hair, which coupled with his
size  and  fierce  fighting  skills,  had  given  Jasper  the
inspiration for Dalton's nickname. Not only had Eli been
awestruck, but he had developed his very first crush on a
man.  It  had  been  an  exceptionally  confusing,
frightening, and wonderful day.

Four years later, and Dalton had become World

Heavyweight Champion. Not only had Eli been there to
see  it,  but  Dalton  had  carried  Eli  on  his  shoulder  after
his  victory.  Together  with  his  uncle,  the  three  of  them
had gone for ice cream sandwiches -- Eli's favorite. For
a  very  long  time,  it  had  been  just  the  three  of  them.
Dalton had even started teaching Eli a few moves.

With every passing year, Eli's secret crush grew. The

year before Dalton had lost his title had been the best of
Eli's life, because that was the year Dalton had stopped
seeing  him  as  some  awestruck  kid,  and  started  seeing
him as a grown man. Eli had just turned twenty and they
were  out  celebrating  his  birthday.  The  way  Dalton  had
looked at him that night, and every day after that for the
rest of the year, had Eli's silly heart skipping a beat, and
his  head  conjuring  all  manner  of  fantasies.  In  the  end,
fantasy was all it had been.

Mentally shaking himself out of it, Eli went back to

looking  around  Big  John's  Gym.  It  hadn't  changed  one
bit.  Half  a  dozen  heavy  punching  bags  hung  from
wooden  beams  on  both  sides  of  the  room,  some  gently
swaying  on  their  lonesome  while  others  were  getting
ferocious  beatings.  The  sounds  made  by  the  leather
speed  bags  as  they  got  worked  over  were  all  but
drowned  out  by  the  sounds  of  grunts,  shouts  of
encouragement, and cussing being flung about.

The numerous benches scattered around the place

were as scuffed as the old wooden floorboards, and the
paint-chipped walls were littered with peeling and faded
advertisements  of  past  matches.  Toward  the  end  of  the
room  were  two  rings,  and  inside  one  of  them  was  a
scrawny,  fair-haired  kid  who  looked  like  he  could  do
with a meal or two. Opposite him was the man of Eli's
dreams.

Dalton was as fit and toned as ever, dressed in his

signature black shorts, brown leather boots, and scuffed,
brown leather gloves. His hair had fallen over one side
of his brow, and his muscles were gleaming with sweat.
Eli couldn't keep his gaze from raking over all that hard
muscle,  from  Dalton's  broad  shoulders,  down  his
expansive  chest,  to  his  flat  stomach,  over  his  backside,
to  his  muscular  thighs  and  thick  calves.  He  had  a
chiseled  jaw,  a  nose  that  was  slightly  crooked  from  all
the times it had been broken, a thin scar to the side of his
left  eye  that  ran  down  to  his  cheek,  and  a  wide  mouth
that  looked  amazing  when  he  smiled-- not  to  mention
had Eli aching to kiss.

"What did I say, Jimmy? You have to protect your

head and your ribs," Dalton explained, tapping Jimmy
where he needed to shield himself.

"At the same time?" Jimmy looked down at himself,

clearly attempting to figure out how he was supposed to
do that.

Dalton moved Jimmy's gloves up over his ears and

pushed  his  elbows  in.  "Hunch  over  a  bit.  Good.  Now
tighten  your  abdomen  and  bend  your  knees  a  little.
That's  right.  The  moment  you're  done  with  that  swing,
you  snap  your  arm  back  into  position.  Don't  leave
yourself  open,  and  remember  to  keep  moving.  Okay,
now I'm going to take a swing at you."

Jimmy's eyes widened and he went white as a sheet.

"What?"

"I'm not going to hit you hard, you pill. Just tap you.

Geez Louise, kid. You do realize that at some point,
someone's going to hit you?"

"I know," Jimmy squeaked. "But ain't no one gonna

hit like you, champ."

"I reckon they won't," Dalton admitted, "but that

doesn't mean it won't hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. Ready?
Left hook. You block it."

"Okay." Jimmy nodded and let out a shaky breath.
True to his word, Dalton barely tapped him. Even

used his left which everyone knew didn't have the force
of his legendary right hook.

The kid went flying across the ring.
There were some chuckles and laughs from some of

the bigger fellows nearby who had been watching,
probably waiting for that exact thing to happen. Dalton
quickly helped Jimmy to his feet and steadied him. The
kid looked like a twig in comparison.

"You okay, kid?"
"Yeah." Jimmy nodded and wobbled a little as he

leaned against Dalton, who called over one of the
cornermen and asked him to help Jimmy out of the ring.

"Why don't you sit down a spell, and then go practice

some," Dalton told Jimmy, reaching out to give him a
pat on the back, then seemed to decide against it. "We'll
continue where we left off tomorrow."

Jimmy nodded somewhat dazedly as he was led

away, though the smile never left his face. "Okay, yeah.
Thanks, champ."

"Sure thing." Dalton gave a chuckle, standing with

his  gloves  on  his  hips  and  a  lopsided  smile  as  he
watched  Jimmy  being  helped  out  of  the  ring.  That  was
when Eli realized that what he had once felt for Dalton
had  never  really  gone  away,  no  matter  how  much  he'd
told himself it had.

Aw, hell.

"Just One More Chance"

Jessie shook his head, wondering what he could do to

help  Jimmy,  aside  buy  him  a  couple  of  steak  dinners.
Heading  for  the  corner  of  the  ring,  he  looked  up  and
froze,  his  gaze  captured  by  familiar  gray  eyes.  He
climbed through the ropes without a second thought and
hopped  down  before  heading  straight  for  the  tawny-
haired young man watching his every move. Stopping a
few  inches  away,  Jessie  found  himself  grinning  like  a
dope.

"Eli?"
Eli returned his smile, sending Jessie's pulse racing.

"Hi, Dalton."

"Aw, lay off," Jessie teased. "When did you ever call

me that?"

"Sorry," Eli replied with a chuckle, and shoved his

hands into his pockets. The kid had always been a bit of
a shy one around him. "It's nice to see you again,
Jessie."

"It's been what, five years?" Jessie couldn't stop

himself  from  giving  Eli  a  once  over.  The  kid  was
looking  sharp  and  handsome  in  an  olive  green  V-neck
sweater,  striped  tie,  and  brown  tweed  pants  with
matching  cap.  He  looked  every  bit  the  Ivy-League
young man he was, which also made him stick out like a
sore  thumb  around  here.  In  the  five  years  since  Jessie
had seen Eli, the fella had become even more handsome.

"Yeah, something like that." The way Eli was looking

at  him  had  Jessie  averting  his  gaze  before  he  did
something dumb, like give himself away. No one needed
to know how happy he was to see the kid. He shouldn't
even be this happy, he reminded himself. He folded his
arms  over  his  chest  and  made  like  this  meeting  was  of
no  consequence.  Luckily  Jasper  chimed  in  before

Jessie's thoughts -- and his eyes -- went back to Eli and
headed south.

"What am I? Chopped liver?"
Jessie grimaced in good humor. "Chopped liver

would actually be a step up for you." As per usual,
Jasper was not amused, which in turn meant Jessie was.
Greatly.

"I can see that you forgot to take your anti-asshole

pills again today," Jasper muttered before jutting a
finger in Eli's direction. "Meet your new cornerman."

And just like that, Jessie's amusement vanished. "I'm

sorry, what?"

"You needed one. I got you one," Jasper said with a

shrug,  followed  by  a  puff  to  his  cigar.  Was  the  thing
even lit? Jessie didn't even know anymore. What he did
know  was  that  he  had  never  agreed  to  this.  Grabbing
Jasper's  arm,  Jessie  excused  them  for  a  moment,  and
pulled  the  old  man  into  Big  John's  office,  which
thankfully,  was  empty  at  the  moment.  He  closed  the
door, and thrust a glove out at Jasper, who didn't think
twice, and started undoing the laces. "Are you nuts? The
kid  went  to  college,  studied  art.  He  should  be  out
painting  portraits  of  the  'It'  crowd,  not  putting  ice  on
some has-been's ouchy."

"First of all, don't try to be cute, 'cause you ain't.

Second of all, the kid idolizes you. I happen to mention
needing a cornerman for you, and he all but split at the
seams begging me to let him do it. Besides, I think
having Eli around will be good for you."

That statement caught Jessie by surprise. "How so?"
Letting out a heavy sigh, Jasper propped himself on

the edge of the desk, and removed his cigar from his
mouth, which meant he was preparing to say more than
the usual cuss word or two. "Kid, we've known each
other going on twenty years now. I know you better than

you know yourself. The only time I ever saw you truly
happy was when Eli was around. You ain't been the
same since that night, which, may I remind you, was not
my idea."

"I had to." Jessie looked down at his old gloves -- a

reminder  of  better  times,  and  did  his  best  not  to  think
about that night, or all the ones that had come after. He
had  done  a  pretty  good  job  of  filling  himself  full  of
hooch in order to keep the crushing pain in his chest at
bay. After a while it had turned into a dull ache, but it
had  never  really  gone  away.  That  year,  he  had  lost  the
three things that had mattered most in his life. His title,
his reputation, and Eli. The last being the most painful.

"You broke his heart," Jasper reminded him quietly.
"I had to." Jessie threw his gloves on the old leather

armchair with a frustrated grunt. "It was safer that way."

"Safer for whom? Him or you?"
Jessie came to a halt, the expression on Jasper's face

sending a momentary wave of panic through him. Swell.
Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse.
Jasper might be a belligerent old man, but he was the
only family Jessie had left. Before he could so much as
open his mouth, Jasper cut in.

"Don't you dare," he growled, and got up to switch on

the  old  Willard  Radio,  filling  the  small  office  with  the
sounds of Isham Jones' Who's Sorry Now. The irony was
not  lost  on  Jessie.  With  that  done,  Jasper  turned  and
poked him in the chest with a bony finger. "I ain't going
nowhere,  boy,  so  I  suggest  you  stop  insultin'  my
intelligence."

Jessie rubbed the sore spot on his chest and frowned.

"But how?"

"I had an inkling for a while, but you remember Eli's

twentieth birthday?"

How could Jessie forget? That was the night

everything had changed. Eli had been in his second year
of  college  and,  although  he  should  have  been spending
his birthday with his friends, he had informed Jasper he
wanted  to  celebrate  with  him  and  Jessie  somewhere
swanky. When Eli had walked out onto the roof garden
of  the  Ritz  Carlton  Hotel  with  a  top  hat  in  his  white-
gloved  hands,  sporting  a  white  tie,  tails,  and  his  hair
slicked back, Jessie had been rendered speechless. Gone
was the scrawny kid, and in his place was a grown man
who was handsome as sin. It was only Jasper's presence
that had kept Jessie from gawking all night, but it hadn't
kept his thoughts from wandering.

"You idjit, don't go thinkin' about it now!" Jasper

sputtered, looking absolutely scandalized. "I'm standing
right here."

All this time, Jasper had known, and yet… "You

stuck by my side?"

"Course I did. What kinda fool you take me for?

Look, I ain't sayin' I agree with it, I'm just saying you're
a good man. So as long as I don't never know about
what you do, with who, or where, it's all ducky."

As if Jessie would discuss his love life or lack thereof

with Jasper. That just made him feel… queasy.

"I especially don't wanna know about what you get

up to with my nephew. But if you break Eli's heart
again, so help me, I will not hesitate to shoot you. You
got that?"

Jessie was under no illusion that Jasper wouldn't do

just that, and then the old man's words hit home. "Wait,
you know about Eli?" Instead of a reply, he received a
smack on the side of the head. "Ouch! What the hell did
you do that for?"

"Heaven almighty, sometimes I wonder if you been

knocked in the head one too many times. I practically
raised that boy, of course I know. And guess what, I can

dress myself and everythin'."

It was probably best he not bring up the fact that in

the time Jessie had known him, Jasper had yet to wear a
pair of matching socks. "Eli's a good kid, Jasper. Too
good for the likes of me. He deserves better."

Jasper shot him a penetrating look. "What he

deserves is a nice dame, but seeing as how that ain't in
the cards, you're the next best thing."

"Wow." Jessie stared in disbelief. "No one's ever

insulted me with a compliment before. That's some
talent you got there, Jasper."

"Now you listen here, because I'm only gonna say

this once. You're a good man, and if my nephew's gonna
be doin' whatever he's doin', it might as well be with
someone who will treat him right. I just don't wanna
know about it. Now get the hell out of here. You can fill
him in on the match and then drop him off at home."

"You're not sticking around?" Jessie didn't like the

idea of being alone with Eli for such an extended period
of time.

"No. I'm getting myself down to Anne's."
That brought a wicked smile to Jessie's face, and he

couldn't resist. "You know she's got fellas now." Jasper's
eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his skull,
and Jessie struggled not to burst into laughter. "Just
saying, is all."

"Oh, fuck you, Dalton." Jasper stormed over to the

door and slammed it open. "I'm gettin' the hell outta here
before I lose my lunch."

Unable to hold it anymore, Jessie threw his head back

and laughed. Eli appeared beside the office door,
looking from his uncle to Jessie with a curious smile.
"What was that about?"

"Nothing, just razzing the old man." It had been a

long time since Jessie had had any fun. It felt good.

Grabbing his gloves off the armchair, he motioned for
Eli to follow. "Come on, I'll bring you up to speed on
this weekend's exhibition match and what you'll need to
get ready for it. Then I'll take you home."

Eli stopped in his tracks and looked over to the side

door where his uncle had disappeared through. "Oh, but
I thought--"

"I can get someone else to take you if that's a

problem," Jessie said, trying not to sound disappointed.

"No, that's not it at all," Eli said quickly, his cheeks

going a little pink, and making Jessie wish he was
wearing more than just a pair of shorts. "I just don't want
to inconvenience you."

"It's no inconvenience." He walked into the locker

room with Eli on his heels, and just his luck, the place
was deserted.

Eli ducked under the clothesline of hanging towels,

and grabbed the biggest one with the initials 'J.D.'
monogramed in black on the bottom right. He handed it
to Jessie with a knowing smile. "I might be a little rusty,
but I remember a few things."

Jessie reached for the towel and somehow ended up

covering Eli's hand with his own. Their eyes met and
Jessie found himself unable to look away from that
smoldering gaze. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Eli took a step closer, his gaze

shifting briefly to Jessie's lips. "Jessie, I've been
meaning to talk to you about something."

Just then, the boisterous laughter of two fellas

horsing around snapped Jessie out of his trance, and he
quickly  released  Eli.  "I'll  be  out  in  a  minute,"  he  said
gruffly, and made tracks into the separate shower room
without  so  much  as  glancing  in  Eli's  direction.  Once
inside the white-tiled room, he turned the cold water on,
and  hunched  down  under  the  icy  spray,  letting  the  tiny

needles prick his skin, and relieve some of his tension --
among other things.

What the hell was he doing? Eli was handsome,

smart, and thirteen years younger than him. He deserved
to  be  with  someone  who  wasn't  all  washed  up.  Years
ago, Eli had looked up to him, and Jessie had done his
best  not  to  let  the  kid  down.  It  had  been  that  simple.
Now,  Eli  was  a  grown  man,  and  there  were  so  many
more ways in which Jessie could disappoint him. None
of them having anything to do with boxing.

"You're going to freeze something off standing there

like that."

"Jesus!" With a sputter, Jessie pushed away from the

wall, and instinctively threw his hands over his groin to
maintain  whatever  dignity  he  had  left.  Despite  being
successful  on  that  venture,  he  couldn't  see  a  damned
thing.  His  hair  was  plastered  down  over  his  eyes,  and
when he tried to blow it away, Eli's chuckle told him he
was getting nowhere fast.

"Here, let me help you." Eli's voice was soft, sweet,

and not at all helpful to Jessie's current predicament. He
felt tender fingers across his brow and soon he could see
again.

"What are you doing in here?" Jessie took a small

step away from Eli, who was standing there giving him
the up and down, which again, wasn't helping him any.

"You forgot your towel," Eli replied innocently as he

held out the item in question. Jessie quickly snatched it
away, and looked down at himself. "You're going to
need both hands," Eli added, a devilish gleam in his
bright eyes. So much for the kid being shy around him.

Ignoring Jessie's protest, Eli took the towel back from

him, and closed the distance between them. As he
wrapped the towel around Jessie's waist, Eli pressed
himself against Jessie, and -- being the dope that he was

-- Jessie couldn't keep himself from looking down at the
kid, a gesture that had their lips nearly touching. All Eli
had to do was lean in. To Jessie's relief, and perhaps
even disappointment, Eli pulled away.

"Pull your arms out."
Jessie did as instructed, and Eli secured the towel

tightly. With a nod of thanks, Jessie cleared his throat,
and motioned toward the door. "You should go.
Someone's bound to come in here any moment."

"So? I'm your cornerman. Besides, it's not like you

fellas don't all shower in front of each other."

"That's different," Jessie murmured, telling himself

he was too old to be getting sappy. Taking the initiative,
he  walked  around  Eli  and  back  into  the  locker  room
where  his  clothes  were.  Again,  the  place  was  empty.
Usually  the  closer  it  got  to  dinnertime,  the  busier  the
locker  room  was,  but  today,  of  all  days,  no  one  was
goddamn hungry. Typical.

"How's it different?" Eli asked, following close

behind.

"You know how so. Don't be a pill." Jessie swiped

his underwear up from his stack of clothes, turned, and
nearly collided with Eli. For crying out loud, why did he
have to get so close?

"No, I don't know," Eli said, crossing his arms over

his chest. "I thought I did, but then I remember the
blonde who opened your front door in her nightie."

"What the hell are you talking about? What blonde?"
"Nothing," Eli said with a sigh. "Never mind. I'll wait

for you outside."

Before Jessie could so much as utter a syllable, Eli

was gone. Great, now the kid was in a lather with him
and he had absolutely no idea why. Next time he saw
Jasper, Jessie was going to strangle him. Quickly, he got
dressed, then pulled his bag out of his locker, snatched

up his jacket and cap from the coat rack, and thundered
out of the gym. Now he had a nice long ride into
Manhattan to look forward to. That wasn't going to be
awkward at all.

Once he was behind the wheel with Eli sitting

grumpily  beside  him,  Jessie  decided  to  pretend  like
whatever  had  happened  in  the  locker  room  hadn't
happened,  and  instead  concentrated  on  going  over
everything  Eli  needed  to  know  about  the  exhibition
match  coming  up.  Somehow  he  managed  to  keep
yammering  until  he  pulled  up  outside  Eli's  bachelor-
apartments hotel in Greenwich Village. When Eli spoke,
his voice was low and void of its earlier warmth.

"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow."
Damn it. Something told Jessie that if he let Eli walk

away like this, they would both regret it, and Lord knew
Jessie had accumulated enough regrets over the years.
Listening to the little voice in his heart, he reached out
and grabbed Eli's wrist. "Hey, wait."

Eli paused. "Yeah?"
Before he could talk himself out of it, Jessie blurted

out the first thing that came to mind. "Meet me for
breakfast."

"What?" Eli turned toward him, an endearingly

puzzled expression on his handsome face. "You want
me to have breakfast with you?"

"We could maybe make it a thing, if you want. You

know, meet at the gym early and have breakfast at
Mabel's, across the road. She still makes some mean
scrambled eggs. Catch up on old times?"

Eli seemed to think about it for a minute -- the

longest minute of Jessie's life -- until a bright smile
stretched across his face. "I'd like that."

"Great. I'll see you then." Jessie knew he was

grinning like an idiot, but he couldn't help it. Eli jumped

out of the car, closed the door, and turned to lean on the
frame.

"Goodnight, Jessie. Thanks for letting me stick

around."
There was so much Jessie wanted to say, but all that
came out was, "Thanks for wanting to."

Afraid of what might come out of his mouth next,

Jessie decided it was best he not hang around, and drove
off, telling himself he shouldn't be so damn hopeful.
Even so, he couldn't keep the smile off his face.
Breakfast was well on its way to becoming his favorite
meal of the day.

"Love Sends a Little Gift of Roses"

"What the hell, Jasper? I thought you said I was

going up against Travis?"

Eli stood silently by as Jessie furiously paced from

one  side  of  the  small  dressing  room  to  the  other. From
the  moment  they  had  arrived  at  the  Polo  Grounds  in
Upper  Manhattan,  Jessie  had  stated  something  was
amiss.  There  were  triple  the  number  of  attendees  than
any of them had anticipated. It was only once Jasper had
spoken  to  the  promoting  manager,  that  they  discovered
the reason behind the sudden influx in ticket sales.

"You were, until the idjit slipped on his kid's

goddamn set of jacks two days ago and ended up on
crutches."

"So what, they replace him with Hewett?" Jessie spat

out. "I didn't come here to be humiliated, Jasper. It's
supposed be a charity event, not a goddamn massacre."

In all his years of being around Jessie, Eli had never

seen the man exude anything other than confidence, no
matter  who  he  was  going  up  against,  no  matter  how
staggering the odds. Jessie Dalton never left his dressing
room  without  a  playful  grin,  and  a  'can  do'  attitude.  It
was  what  folks  had  admired  most  about  him.  The  last
week  had  been  difficult  for  Eli,  watching  Jessie  get
ready for the match. He was still one hell of a boxer, but
his lack of faith in himself reflected in his fighting, and
it had broken Eli's heart all over again. He took a deep
breath and decided to hell with it. "You can take him."

Jessie stopped pacing and spun toward him. "What?"
"You can beat Hewett," Eli stated firmly, believing

every word. "I know you can."

"That's real sweet, kid, but no I can't." Jessie shook

his head and let out a humorless laugh. "Please tell me
you're not about to break out the "I believe in you" pep

talk."

"Why can't you beat him? Because he's younger than

you?"

"Younger, faster, healthier, you want me to keep

going? How about the fact that he's been training the last
two years for a shot at the Heavyweight title? That kid's
out for blood, and I sure as hell ain't volunteering to give
him mine."

"I knew you'd lost your edge; I didn't realize you'd

become a coward."

That stopped Jessie dead in his tracks, and he

marched over to Eli. "What did you call me?"

"You're afraid to fight him in front of all those people

because if you lose, it will just confirm that you've got
nothing left, but you're wrong."

"Kid," Jasper warned, edging a little closer to Eli,

probably afraid he was about to say something to get
himself pummeled. Eli wasn’t about to back down.

"No, he needs to hear this." He kept his gaze on

Jessie. "I don't care if you get sick of me all over again.
I'm not letting you walk away from this."

"What the hell are you talking about?" To Jessie's

credit, he looked completely perplexed.

Walking over to the door, Jasper turned the lock, and

stepped outside. "It's time you two hashed this out. You
got some time. Jessie's not due out in the ring just yet.
Eli, don't sock him. He'll be gettin' plenty of that soon
enough." With that he was gone.

Jessie threw hands up in frustration, and went over to

the beat up old couch where he dropped himself down
with a huff. "I'm surrounded by lunatics." He looked up
at Eli and glared at him. "Care to clarify just what the
hell you meant by me getting sick of you again?"

Well, it was now or never. "Hey, I get it. I was a

dumb kid who was always in your hair, and after the

trial you had enough problems without me following
you around like some puppy. It may seem like I'm doing
that again, but I'm not--"

"Wait, you think I stopped having you around

because I got tired of you? Did Jasper tell you that?"

Eli cleared his throat. "Uh, no, I just assumed--"
"Well don't," Jessie snapped. "I got enough folks

trying to think for me, I don't need it from you of all
people."

"Then why didn't you want me around anymore? And

who was that woman who answered your door?" As
much as Eli didn't want to reopen any old wounds, the
least he deserved was an explanation.

"Why are you springing all this on me now?"
"Because it's important," Eli replied angrily. "I went

to see you a couple of months after the trial one night,
and some blonde woman answered your door in a pink
nightie."

"Kid, I was drunk out of my head," Jessie muttered,

as if that explained everything.

"That's comforting."
"Look, nothing happened with that dame. I thought

maybe it would help me… not be me, but instead I just
drank until I blacked out. She nabbed what was in my
wallet and made tracks. That satisfy you?"

"So you weren't attracted to her?" Eli asked, taking a

step closer to Jessie.

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the

answers to."

"What's that supposed to mean?"
"For crying out loud, Eli." Jessie sat forward and

rubbed  his  hands  over  his  face.  "I'd  just  been  through
hell,  and  all  I  could  think  about  was  what  could  have
happened that night if you had been there. And it wasn't
just  your  safety  I  was  worried  about.  The  papers  were

tearing me apart. I couldn't so much as have a sandwich
without someone turning it into a headline against me. If
they got wind of some good-looking college kid nearly
half my age hanging around me, they would have
dragged your name through the mud, too. I couldn't have
that."

"So let me get this straight, it's not okay for me to

assume what you're thinking, but it's okay for you to just
make decisions for me?" Eli couldn't believe what he
was hearing.

"It was the right thing to do," Jessie insisted.
"It wasn't your decision to make!" Eli was all but

vibrating with anger. All those years of heartache, and
for what? To find out that Jessie had felt something for
him and had decided to throw away whatever future they
might have without so much as asking Eli what his
thoughts were on the matter.

"What the hell are you yelling at me for?"
"Because I was in love with you, you son-of-a-bitch,

and you sent me away!"

Jessie opened his mouth and closed it, before finally

managing to get himself to speak up. When he did, his
voice was quiet. "I'm sorry. I thought I was doing right
by you."

"Well, you weren't," Eli replied, taking a deep,

calming breath. "You broke my heart, Jessie."

"All this time…" When Jessie looked up, Eli was

taken aback by the tears in his eyes. It was then that he
saw how much damage the last five years had done to a
once confident and resilient man. "I tried my hardest
never to disappoint you, and in the end, it's exactly what
I did."

Eli knelt down in front of Jessie and took hold of his

hand. "Jessie, stop trying so hard to be my hero and just
be the man I fell in love with."

"And who's that?"
The pout on Jessie's face brought a soft laugh out of

Eli.  "He's  the  fella  from  Brooklyn  who  likes  ice  cream
sandwiches  and  falls  asleep  listening  to  records.  He
loves  going  to  the  motion  pictures,  hates  wearing
tuxedos, and loves animals. Except birds."

"They have beady eyes and unnatural feet," Jessie

murmured with a frown.

Eli laughed and threw his arms around Jessie's neck.

"That's  the  man  I  fell  in  love  with,  right  there.  Not  the
big,  tough  boxing  champion,  just  the  fella  wearing  his
gloves.  Which,  by  the  way,  I've  been  informed  you
would punch me in the face if I touched them."

"I would," Jessie replied looking dead serious. "Your

uncle gave me those gloves on my very first
professional match. I take good care of them."

Eli blinked at him. "Oh, well, I guess I won't touch

them then."

"I'm just pulling your leg, you pill," Jessie said with a

chuckle, and let his head rest against Eli's. "Of course I
wouldn't punch you."

"But you'd punch someone else?" Eli was pretty

certain he already knew the answer to that.

"Already have. Three times. They were warned."

Jessie's lips cured into a wicked grin. "You, on the other
hand, have my permission to touch anything you like."

"Well, in that case…" Eli pressed his lips to Jessie's,

releasing  a  surprised  gasp  when  Jessie  threw  his  arms
around him and crushed their bodies together, his lips all
but devouring Eli's. Having waited for this very moment
for  so  long,  Eli  threw  himself  into  the  kiss  completely,
shoving  his  fingers  into  Jessie's  hair  and  climbing  onto
his lap, his lips never leaving Jessie's. Pulling Eli down
onto the couch, Jessie lay over him, kissing Eli until his
lips were swollen, and they were both forced to come up

for air.

"I've been wanting to do that ever since that night at

the Ritz," Jessie said breathlessly. "You really did a
number on me that night."

"I knew you wanted to. I could see it in your eyes,

which is why I thought--" Eli's words were cut off by
Jessie's deep, yet gentle kiss. When he pulled back, he
ran his thumb across Eli's bottom lip.

"I'm sorry I hurt you."
"What happened that night?" Eli asked, softly tracing

a finger down the thin scar a hair's breadth from Jessie's
left eye.

"There were four of them, claimed I put them out of

pocket  when  I  lost  my  title.  I  knew  I  could  take  them,
but  I  didn't  want  to  hurt  anyone.  I  tried  to  walk  away,
but  they  just  weren't  having  any  of  it.  So  when  they
came at me, I knocked them on their asses. I thought that
was  the  end  of  it.  We  started  to  leave  when  someone
yelled  out.  I  turned  around  just  in  time  for  one  of  the
bastards to catch me with a broken bottle." Jessie put his
finger  to  his  scar  and  sighed.  "When  he  took  a  second
swing at me, I… well, you know the rest. He ended up
in  the  hospital  for  three  months.  Then  he  pressed
charges  against  me,  and  I  was  arrested.  If  there  hadn't
been witnesses that night, and if they hadn't been honest
folk,  I'd  probably  be  rotting  away  in  some  workhouse
right about now. Either way, the newspapers had a field
day."

"I'm so sorry, Jessie."
"What can you do, huh? That's life. I'm just… "

Jessie  closed  his  eyes  for  a  moment,  and  when  he
opened  them,  Eli  could  see  the  pain  in  them.  "I'm  so
tired, Eli. I don't know how much longer I can keep this
up.  I  used  to  love  what  I  did,  and  now…  I'm  just
hanging on for the sake of hanging on."

"Then why not retire?"
"And do what? Fighting is all I know how to do. If I

don't do that, I got nothing." He pulled Eli with him as
he sat up, and wrapped his arms around Eli, pulling him
close.

"That's not true. You're smarter than you give

yourself credit for. You still love the sport, and you're
good at it, one of the best. You could manage someone,
or open your own gym. Whatever you do, Jasper and I
will be there beside you."

"Yeah?"
"You bet." Eli beamed up at him, unable to believe

that he was here in Jessie's arms. "You can also bet I'm
going to give you the '"I believe in you"' speech." Jessie
let out a loud groan, his head falling back against the
couch and making Eli chuckle. "Stop being such a
baby."

"A baby?" Jessie snapped his head up and stared at

him. "Have you seen Hewett? I've seen redwoods more
puny."

"Be that as it may, you can beat him, and not just

because  I  believe  in  you,  which  I  do,  but  because  you
are  Jessie  "The  Demon"  Dalton.  You've  fought  against
meaner  fellas,  and  come  out  on  top.  If  you  decide  to
make  this  your  last  fight,  this  is  your  chance  to  go  out
with a bang."

"And if I lose?" Jessie asked, giving Eli as small

smile when Eli took Jessie's hand and placed it to his
lips for a kiss.

"Then you lose with pride, knowing "The Demon"

gave 'em hell."

Jessie chuckled and pulled Eli in for a kiss, before

asking, "And if I win?"

Eli thought about it for a moment, and then smiled

sweetly. "Then we book a swanky room at the Ritz, have

dinner up on the roof garden, and then afterward, we do
what we wanted to do to each other that night five years
ago."

Jessie sprung up from the couch so fast, he nearly

knocked Eli over. For a moment Eli stared up at the man
as if he had lost his marbles. "What's wrong?"

"Get that sweet keister of yours in the locker room

right  now.  We  have  a  fight  to  prepare  for."
Feeling  deliriously  happy,  Eli  jumped  to  his  feet,  ran
over  to  Jessie  and  gave  his  lips  a  swift,  but  firm  kiss
before  making  tracks,  his  heart  pounding  wildly  in  his
chest  with  the  knowledge  that  not  only  did  he  finally
have  the  man  of  his  dreams,  but  that  he  had  every
intention  of  getting  that  room  booked  regardless  of
whether Jessie won or not. He would just keep that little
secret to himself until after the fight.

"Song of Love"

Eli stood mesmerized by the two men who appeared

to  be  in  the  midst  of  a  battle  to  the  finish.  Hewett  was
giving it everything he got, while simultaneously trying
not  to  get  himself  knocked  out  by  the  Demon's
legendary  right  hook.  At  first  Eli  had  been  a  little
worried his feelings for Jessie would impede his ability
to do his job, but the moment Jessie stepped foot in the
ring, Eli had found himself completely immersed in his
role,  doing  his  best  to  make  sure  Jessie  had  everything
he  needed  when  he  needed  it.  Whenever  Jessie  came
back to his corner, Jasper and Eli jumped to into action,
checking  his  injuries,  giving  him  water,  patting  him
down, and offering words of encouragement. It had been
one hell of a fight from the get-go. At first the spectators
had booed Jessie, but as the fight progressed and Jessie's
goodhearted  nature  started  to  shine  above  Hewett's
arrogant  and  unsportsmanlike  conduct,  those  boos  had
soon started sounding a whole lot like cheers.

Jessie had spent the first round studying his opponent

and,  in  the  second,  Hewett  had  made  the  mistake  of
underestimating him. That mistake cost him dearly, and
he went down hard, only managing to get to his feet just
as the referee reached the count of eight. Much to Eli's
frustration  -- and  that  of  the  crowd  -- Hewett  then
resorted  to  either  clinching  Jessie  or  avoiding  him
altogether in an attempt to wear him down. By the fifth
round, Hewett's plan had succeeded, and Jessie had gone
down  after  a  fierce  onslaught  of  right  and  left  hooks.
The sounds of the crowd jeering distracted Hewett's ego
long  enough  for  Jessie  to  push  himself  to  his  feet
without the danger of getting pummeled back down, and
all  on  the  count  of  nine.  Eli  had  held  his  breath  for  so
long, he was surprised he hadn't gone blue in the face. It

was now the final round, and the crowd was going nuts,
one of nearby radio broadcasters had announced this
fight as Jessie's "second coming".

When Jessie next hit the corner, Eli dabbed the small

cut  on  his  cheek,  grateful  that  there  was  no  further
bleeding. Jessie was covered in nasty bruises, nicks, and
dripping  in  sweat.  His  breath  was  coming  out  labored
and  Eli  realized  that  Jessie  was  pushing  himself  more
than he had in years.

"You have to let him hit you," Eli found himself

saying.

"What?" Jessie and Jasper exclaimed simultaneously,

both looking at him as if he was nuts.

"He knows he's wearing you down. That's why he's

been  coming  at  you  more.  Every  time  you  move  away
from  him,  he  moves  toward  you.  Let  him  think  it's  all
over for you. One opening, Jessie, that's all you need. I
know you're tired, but you have to reach deep. You can
do this. Just like your fight with Jonson. He thought you
were  beat,  but  he's  the  one  that  ended  up  beat,
remember?"

Jessie nodded. "I remember." He got to his feet,

wobbled a little, but shook himself off. He turned to Eli
and  gave  him  a  wink  before  going  off  to  face  Hewett.
The gong sounded and the fight started. Jessie did as Eli
suggested.  He  swayed  a  little,  and  kept  himself  out  of
Hewett's  reach.  The  broadcasters  started  declaring
Jessie's defeat "despite his exalted efforts" as "tragic yet
inevitable".

And then Hewett took a swing at Jessie.
It was over in seconds. Jessie had patiently waited for

his chance and, the second Hewett pulled his arm back,
Jessie delivered a right hook to the ribs, sending Hewett
reeling back into the ropes. The moment Hewett doubled
over, it had taken Jessie a left hook, an uppercut, and

one fierce right hook to slam Hewett into the canvas. By
the end, Jessie was barely standing, but Hewett was out
for the count.

"Ten!" The referee shook his head and swung his

arms. He grabbed Jessie's arm and raised it high above
his head, declaring him the winner. The crowd jumped
to their feet in a roar, boaters and caps soaring through
the arena.

"Oh my God!" Eli threw his arms around Jasper and

the two of them hugged, and jumped up and down. "He
won! He won!"

"Son-of-bitch did it!" Jasper hooted.
As soon as the referee released him, Jessie went over

to Eli and threw an arm around him, squeezing him tight
as managers and promoters, referees, and sponsors
flooded the ring to congratulate Jessie. Even Hewett's
manager came over to shake Jessie's hand.

"That was one hell of a fight, Dalton. Didn't know

you still had it in you. Shame there was no title to be
won."

Jessie just shrugged and smiled. Once the man had

walked off, he bent his head down to whisper into Eli's
ear. "I've got the love of the crowd and the man at my
side. That's a win far more valuable than any title,
wouldn’t you say?"

Giving Jessie a discreet squeeze in return, Eli couldn't

have  agreed  more,  and  as  soon  as  they  were  done
celebrating  here,  Eli  would  get  that  room  booked  and
offer  Jessie  his  own  personal  brand  of  celebration.  Not
only would fighting dirty and moving below the belt be
encouraged, it would be greatly rewarded.

In His Corner

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Torquere Press, Inc.: Sips electronic edition / September
2012

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