A bad boy
-I don't think you'll need to look for it," he says, looking behind me.
-Why not?
He pointed to the ring. I turned to look: there came Colton climbing in the same black shorts down to his knees, barefoot and shirtless.
On his knuckles he now had a kind of white strip to protect them. And apparently today they didn't have a horn to announce them. Maybe because this place was new.
Another guy appeared on another corner, he was tall, stout, thick, muscular, he was intimidating. He had the face of an ogre. I thought he looked very strong on par with Colton. Very old. I was scared for him. Now a judge, or whatever you call it, appeared between the two of them with a microphone.
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