Sugar Coated Pain [Boxer!Calum Hood AU] PUBLISHED -- SAMPLE ONLY

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

CALUM SHOOK HANDS with Darryl, keeping his expression one of polite neutrality as his other hand grasped a envelope he was handed. Darryl Gibson was probably the least sleazy guy in Astros, which was saying something since he owned the damn place. He was in charge of the illegal fighting ring, the one who got a cut out of everyone's earnings, yet he did everything with an air of confidence and sophistication. Darryl was straightforward about what he wanted, which was something Calum liked about him; never beat around the bush, didn't have any kind of ulterior motive that Calum could see, at least. And Calum was good at reading people. Which is why he was grateful that he got to deal with someone like Darryl when it came to doing what he enjoys.

"Ya did me proud, Hood," Darryl praised, his free hand clapping Calum on the shoulder once. "Over nine hundred in there and that's after I've taken my cut."

A smug smirk curled at Calum's lips as he dropped Darryl's hand, reveling in the feel of the envelope in his other hand. Darryl took ten percent of whatever a fighter won, no matter the amount, and Calum was the one who brought in the most. He never understood how spectators could blow so much money on watching two people fight, but he didn't care—he was the one who made money out of it. Whatever he made used to be Calum's sole income, and while he made quite a bit, it sometimes wasn't enough and there were times when Calum fell behind on his rent or bills.

So Ashton had hooked him up with a job at the gym he works at—being the general manager had its perks—and now Calum had two sources of income that had him living in his comfortable lifestyle in his Brooklyn apartment with his dog. He's been doing this whole fighting thing for a few years now and once he started becoming known as the best fighter in Astros, he never made lower than six hundred dollars. There were times where Calum lost a fight, sure, but even the winner of those matches didn't earn his money without a number of broken bones or seeping blood.

"People needa find better ways to spend their money," Calum mused, chuckling deeply as he placed the envelope in the inside pocket of his leather jacket.

Darryl smirked. "Don't say that—we're the ones who get that money," he reminded just as his phone went off. He pulled it out and said to Calum, "Gotta take this. Good job, Hood, keep up the good work."

Calum gave him an acknowledging lift of his chin before turning to make his way towards the front doors, walking past the few fighters currently training before stepping out onto the sidewalk. He barely made it two steps when his phone began ringing, pulling it out to see that it was Luke calling. "What's—"

"I need you to go to Beverly's store before she throws my book out!" Luke's loud voice cut him off, making Calum move his phone away from his ear in mild annoyance.

Calum kept walking to the nearest subway entrance, mingling with the light flow of pedestrians. "What?"

Luke whined impatiently on the other end. "I had Bev hold a book for me for a while now and I never went to pick it up and now she's threatening to sell it when the reason I asked her is because she's giving it to me for half the price," he rushed out, taking a breath once all the words were spoken.

Stopping at the curb and waiting for the WALK sign to glow, Calum snorted. "Since when do you read?"

"Fuck off, I read," Luke retorted. "It's for that masters course and I need the book for my summer credits. Please, Cal; Ashton and Mike are busy with work and I can't get out either."

Calum rolled his eyes, not really needed to hear Luke's explanation. He'd get the book for him regardless; Luke was the youngest of their friend group—with Calum only being older than him by a year—and was also going to school for getting his Masters in music. He admired that about Luke—Calum graduated college with a major in English and a minor in physical education and, obviously, didn't do much with those, so if he could make his friend's life slightly less hectic, he was willing to help.