AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Nah man, I’ve got my own shit. I know I’m fighting for Blanca but I’m not used to all this fucking generosity, it makes my skin crawl.”
Gabe busts up laughing at that. “I can see that, with the way you’re twitching.”
I roll my eyes.Asshole.
Yeah, my damn Tourette’s is acting up but fucking Diego makes me feel indebted to him and I hate owing anyone especially someone with power.
“Listen, Jefe didn’t buy this for you to look pretty. He’s got his own agenda so don’t overthink it,wey. Like you said, you fight for him so he’s making sure you have everything you need to succeed and win him some money. Just take the bag, Twitch. Pay him back by winning.” Well, when he puts it like that it does make me feel slightly less anxious.
With a sigh I grab the bag and slam the car door a little harder than necessary and walk into the gym. The smell of antibacterial cleansers fills my nose as I look around at the digs. It looks like your typical membership gym with all the fancy machines everywhere but as I walk further in I see the multiple boxing rings and punching bags. I haven’t seen one person in here until a guy comes walking out from the back office.
“Twitch?” The guy asks.
“Yeah, that’s me.” I shake the guy’s hand as he stares at me closely. It’s weird as hell but as I drop his hand and move around him, he shakes off whatever thoughts were going through his head. This is going to be a strange training session.
“Alright, how about you do your normal warm-up routine while I make a couple of calls and make sure shit is set for tonight. When you’re done with that we’ll do some sparring.” Johnny pulls out his phone and checks the time as he walks away yelling over his shoulder. “Fifteen minutesthen meet me in the ring.”
Not exactly how I expected my first training session to go but I’m not complaining. I work better alone anyway. I get changed and start on my stretches before running through my routine on the punching bag.
I put in my ear buds and press play on my phone. Music is the only sound I like during my workout so as ‘Still D.R.E’ by Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre begins to play, I settle into the familiarity of my routine.
My life has changed so much in the past year and even though I planned and worked toward getting here, it feels like I’ve been unprepared. I feel like I’ve bitten off more than I can chew but standing here working on my punches, I feel the storm in my mind calm and stress slowly leave my body. I punch in rhythm with the music and soon I have my combinations of kicks, punches and footwork flowing easily. This is something that’ll never change despite my life. Fighting is an adrenaline rush, it’s the brain producing hormones that prepare the muscles for exertion but for me, it’s more than that. It’s closing off the noise of the world and focusing on one task. One path leading to one ending and all I have to do to get there is remove the man standing in my way. But I have to be ready. I have to keep a focused mind and hone on my aggression so it’s not used against me. Because like me, my challenger is trying to get to his destination and it’s me he has to get through.
Right now, the bag is my opponent and he is swinging at me too. I pivot and dodge, ducking and turning while keeping myself protected. But of course, this is nothing compared to sparring with an actual person and it won’t fully prepare me for an actual fight.
After a few more minutes of working the bag I stop and decide to go in search of my trainer.
Somehow, I don’t think Johnny is looking forward to training a kid like me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m confident in myself and most people know about me from the rumors in the underground fighting scene but I’m not your typical fighter. At six foot three and one hundred ninety-eight pounds, I can hold my own but what most don’t know is I know how to ground fight as well.
Usually heavier men have a hard time wrestling but I’ve learned to fight in juvie where getting jumped was a regular occurrence. Most professional fighters train and learn the style they fight with, but for me, fighting comes from a place of pain and hate. A place of anger and bitterness that came from losing my family and my determination to find my sister.
So each time I face off in the ring, my opponent isn’t just my challenger for the night. No, he’s the boogeyman that took my family. He’s the block in my way of finding Sia. He’s the wall I have to tear down in order to live another day. So when an opponent manages to get me on the floor, I welcome it. Getting my back to the ground always leads to a win for me.
What’s the saying? The bigger they are, the harder they fall? Maybe for some but for me, it’s the beginning of the end for my foe.
Walking to the fountain to fill my water bottle up I notice Johnny getting the gear setup in the boxing ring for our sparring session. It seems like they have everything here. I’ve never used any of these machines before—well, aside from the weight bench and treadmill that is.
About a month after I got out of juvie I bought a new-to-me punching bag, set it up in Lopez’s garage and used the treadmill she had. Later I bought the weights and bench but since I never cared to spend the money for a gym membership, I’ve never used these crazy looking machines.
“Those are for cardio and all that shit runner’s need. Silver had me install all of it for some social media models who like their asses toned,” Johnny says with a scoff.
I turn and look at the step climber thing as I reply, “Yeah, I thought these looked strange. So they’re ass machines, huh? Good to know.”
Johnny busts up laughing as he tightens the straps on his punching pads. I climb through the ropes and join him but when I don’t put on the small gloves typically used in UFC, Johnny raises an eyebrow in question.
“You need to wear the gloves kid.”
“I’ve never used gloves before so I’m not used to them. Why train with them if it’s a bare knuckle fight anyway.”
Johnny tosses his head back a little like I just spoke Japanese.
“No, Silver doesn’t allow bare knuckles.”
He sure does know Silver well... I wonder how well. Not that it matters much anyway. I’ll probably never meet her and even if I did, I don’t have time for sidetracks.
“This isn’t the UFC so why all the rules?” I don’t understand why it matters so much. I mean I know it’s brutal but that’s the difference between legal and illegal fighting.
“Obviously it’s not, but in my ring I make the rules and I happen to want to keep fighters in decent condition. Can’t keep a crowd pleased when fighters are too damaged to continue past the first round.”
