From Bullets To Billions novel Chapter 21

Chapter 21 - Boxing Genius

The rest of the day? Unpleasant, to say the least. But for Max... it was at least bearable.

Maybe that was thanks to what had gone down in the cafeteria. After something that loud and humiliating, everything else felt like a step down.

The name-calling, the shoulder checks in the hallway, the muttered insults—it all kind of blended together.

But Max couldn't shake a thought:

This was just one day for me. One day... and it's already draining.

How much worse must it be for the real Max? Or for guys like Sam, living this on repeat, every single day? How do they even keep going?

He thought back to his own teenage years—rough around the edges, sure. He'd been a rule-breaker, didn't take orders, stirred up trouble when he had to...

But he never messed with people just for fun. Not like these kids did. There was no shame in it for them—no line they wouldn't cross.

It's like they treat cruelty as a hobby.

By the time the final bell rang, Max was more than ready to call it a day. He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way toward the school gates, where Sam was already waiting.

"Hey," Sam said, slightly out of breath. "Thanks again for today. For... you know, everything. I'll pay you back for the food."

Max waved him off. "Seriously, don't worry about it. I really don't need the money."

Sam looked like he wanted to argue, but just smiled instead.

"Well... if I can't pay you back with cash, then I'll just take a few punches for you or something."

With that, he took off down the street, already jogging away.

Max stood there, watching him go, shaking his head.

"He's a good kid," Max muttered to himself, thinking about Sam. "But with the way things are... unless he stands up for himself, he's always going to be a target. Wouldn't hurt if he hit the gym a few times. Might give him a little more confidence, too."

That thought reminded Max of where he was headed next. The gym.

If he wanted to get this body into shape, he had to be consistent. No skipping out. No excuses.

And since it wasn't like he had a packed social calendar—or any friends at all, really—it made sense to go straight after school.

Besides, if he did have any old friends, meeting them now would only raise more questions he couldn't answer.

He shot Steven a quick text to make sure the gym was open.

By the time Max arrived, Steven was already waiting out front, flipping through something on his phone. Max took one look and squinted.

"Wait... did you get a haircut? And the beard's gone too."

Steven grinned, rubbing his now-smooth jaw. "Yeah, figured I could treat myself a little."

Then he muttered under his breath, "Might all go back to how it was if I'm not careful..."

Max didn't press him. He already knew the guy was on edge about the gym's future.

"I'm gonna start leaving a change of clothes here," Max said, walking past him. "Just make sure the bills are covered with the payment I send. Keep this place open. That's more than enough for me."

Steven gave a nod, trying to hide the smile creeping onto his face.

Just like the day before, Max was back in the gym and back on the weights—this time focusing on a different muscle group. His routine was solid, purposeful. Every rep counted.

Meanwhile, Steven leaned on the front desk, his arms folded, pretending to scroll through his phone while watching the teen out of the corner of his eye.

I couldn't find a single thing about this kid, Steven thought. At first, I figured I'd been scammed. Took a risk and got a haircut with the money before it cleared. But sure enough... it all went through.

He had even tried to do some light digging.

Typed in the number, got nothing. Tried 'red-haired rich teenager'—also nothing. Not that I was expecting much with that search, but still.

Even though things were looking up for him financially, Steven couldn't help but daydream about more. About what this gym could be.

Huh? He didn't do this yesterday, Steven thought, his pulse picking up just a little.

Weird... he's got no real frame, doesn't look like he's played a single sport in his life, but those punches...

That had to be about three minutes, Steven thought. Did he just time himself like it was a real boxing round?

Yeah, I'm sure of it now. The weight training, the combos, the pacing—he's done this before. Not just once or twice, either. It's like I'm watching someone who's been doing this for years. He's got experience... maybe even serious experience. The technique's not perfect, and the strength could use work, but still. Just what is this kid's story?