The Paladin: Lazarus

Chapter 5

Saturday

February 5th

My dad had officially boxed me out of the case. He said he couldn't risk my life anymore than he already had. So if I were at square one the previous Sunday, I felt like I was on square negative five on Saturday. Less resources, no solid leads, nothing. Silver lining, my wounds were healing nicely and the stitches had dissolved. That meant I could go back to training and hitting the streets without having to worry about bleeding like a leaky faucet. So after my session with Liz, one of the first things I did was to go to Earney's gym. I had a heavy bag, kettlebells, jump rope and all the things I really needed at my shed, but I wanted to get out of the house. I just needed to clear my head, so Earney's was my first choice. Plus, I figured having someone to train with could only help. I pushed open the old poster covered door, the rusty hinge serving as a greeting bell, letting everyone know someone just walked in. Earney, the owner looked up from his seat at the front his old wrinkled face pulling back in a happy smile.

"Well I'll be damned," he chuckled, getting up from his seat, dapping me up with a friendly hug. "Hey Mick! Get your pale ass over here!" he called across the room. An equally old looking Irishman turned around giving us a cock headed glare, stopping his pad workout with one of the boxers.

"Whatcha bitchin bout?" Mick replied.

"Look at this motherfucker who just walked through our door!" he ordered. Mick gave the pads to another boxer and came shuffling his way over with his stiff creaky knees.

"Oh bend me over a barrel, if it isn't the young Bomber himself," he greeted, clapping me on the back with his massive paw, his hands just as strong as his brogue.

"That's right, the B-52. How you doin' Book? How long's it been?" Earney asked.

"Since Brandon," I answered. They both nodded solemnly, memories coming back to them. "Not here to throw a pity party are we? Was looking to blow off a little steam, light sparring session with someone maybe. I'm not looking for a war," I informed.

"Isn't that a shame. Here I was thinking you came to whip some of our boys into shape. Well before you do anything you gotta say high to the others. Fabrice and Jose are out repping some of our fighters for some big up and coming casino but they'll be back soon. Koko and Sasha are in the back, though," Earney informed.

"I'll say howdy," I agreed, shouldering my bag as I headed towards the back. The smell of pinesol and old leather brought back a lot of memories. Brandon teaching me how to box and how to wrestle. I never could seem to get the better of him, granted, he was four years older. My brother had been doing MMA since he was a kid. My dad figured it would help get out his aggression. Didn't do much for his aggression but he did win a few youth belts. By the time I got to the back of the gym, I had already been spotted and I had a small Burmese man flying at me.

"Booker!" Koko greeted, giving me a hug that felt more like muay thai clinch.

"Good to see you too Koko, how's the family?" I asked, breaking his hold.

"They very good, very good. Harry, he become a lawyer for big firm, me and Marlene very happy," he informed.

"That's great man, he's been a hard worker as long as I've known him. He deserves it," I congratulated. "Listen I'm gonna go say hi to Sasha real quick."

"Go, go, I know you two are good friend," Koko assured, letting go of me. I walked past towards the wrestling mats where Sasha was working with a familiar figure.

"Guess you took Blakes advice then?" I asked, causing the two to pause. Sasha let go of Samantha's wrist and helped her to her feet, handing her a towel. "Hey there big boy," I greeted Sasha jokingly.