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that’s why people stayed curious. Whatever Walker was paying his trainer, it wasn’t enough.
    As the reporters started yelling out questions for Nashe, Tozzi went back to staring at the back of Sydney’s head. She was so fine, with that hair of hers, the kind of classy woman most guys don’t even consider, because they know they wouldn’t stand a chance. Tozzi grinned to himself. Nothing at all like Valerie. His grin widened. Oh, what a naughty boy.
    â€œMr. Nashe! Mr. Nashe! Tell us the truth.” One reporter overrode the shouts of his brethren. “We aren’t supposedto take this matchup seriously, are we? This is a Nashe event, a patented Nashe extravaGANza.” The reporter mimicked the billionaire’s ringmaster delivery. His brethren snickered behind their notepads. “You don’t really expect us to take this matchup seriously, do you?”
    Nashe started to answer, but Epps stood up and leaned into his microphone to interrupt. “ I don’t take it seriously. That joke sitting over there has never had a real fight in his entire life. He’s the only one who should take this seriously, because he’s gonna be in serious condition after he meets me.”
    Walker stood up in a shot. He shouted over Nashe’s head. “Suck my dick, cocksucker!”
    Gonsalves pulled on Walker’s sleeve. “Sit down, Dwayne. Come on, sit down and be good.”
    Epps turned his head slowly, looked the champ in the eye with a mocking little grin on his face. He moved up right next to Nashe. Camera flashes strobed the room. Everyone wanted to get this shot: Billionaire extraordinaire Russell Nashe sandwiched between the champ and the challenger.
    Epps wrapped his big hand over the mike. “Pull down your pants, son, and I’ll bite it off. If I can find it.”
    Walker’s face bulged and contorted in fury, like his brain was bouncing around in his head, trying to break out. He lunged, swung wild with his right, and caught the back of Nashe’s head in the crook of his elbow. Nashe’s forehead bashed into the mike as he was thrust forward. Tozzi jumped, rushing to grab Walker from behind before he could throw another punch. In the meantime Nashe slid down the podium and scuttled out of the fray.
    â€œLemme go, mothahfuckah,” Walker growled at Tozzi, swinging his shoulders to get free. “Lemme go!”
    Tozzi tightened his bear hug on the champ, and Walker glared at him out of the corner of his eye like a wild horse. Tozzi strained to keep his grip on those massive arms, but it was like trying to hold down Lon Chaney as the full moon came out. Walker started ramming his head back,trying to butt Tozzi in the face. Tozzi arched his head back out of the way, but Walker still caught him on the chin. The shaved scalp scraped Tozzi’s skin like heavy-duty sandpaper. Tozzi made a face. Sharkskin is supposed to feel like that.
    â€œLet the chump go,” Epps bellowed. “He ain’t gonna do nothin ’.” He came around the podium and stuck his face in Walker’s.
    Tozzi frowned. Thanks a lot, Charles. I need this aggravation.
    Walker was going crazy, hopping up and down, trying to shake Tozzi off. Tozzi didn’t dare let him go now, afraid of what this mental case might do. He glanced over his shoulder. Why the hell wasn’t anybody helping him? Where the hell was Frank? Where was Lenny?
    â€œLet him go!” Lenny was suddenly yanking on his arm, trying to break his grip. “Let him go, Tomasso.”
    â€œWhat’re you, crazy, Lenny?”
    But Lenny wasn’t about to discuss it. He slapped his hand over Tozzi’s face, thumb under the earlobe, fingers pressed over the nose. Tozzi knew what was coming, an old police move for subduing uncooperative suspects. Shit. Before Tozzi could react Lenny dug his thumb into the pressure point where the jawbone met the ear. The pain zinged through Tozzi’s molars