6
REED
“Word on the street, you’re going down,” Gray said. He leaned back in his desk chair, fingers steepled in front of him. He was in jeans and t-shirt with the gym logo on the chest. His Stetson was in its usual spot on the hook behind his desk. He wore the serious expression of a guy in ruthless control but would much rather beat the s**t out of something. Or someone. In this case, I knew who it was.
“Dominguez.”
It wasn’t the guy I was fighting next week. He was clean. Or at least he’d be clean in the ring. It was his backers, one of them specifically. Instead of having sponsors who touted the latest protein powder or sneaker, Sammy the Sandbag Briggs had Dominguez who was infamous for leading one of the nastier gangs in the area, including as far away as Denver. With Brant Valle
