Fighting Envy

by Jennifer Miller

  “Me too. He still does it. Louie may be gone, but Cole has become his next target. Poor Cole wasn’t able to say no and found himself with my father as his trainer. It’s okay though; I don’t let it bother me anymore. I’ve managed to overcome the feelings he found great fun in generating and realized that if I responded in the manner he provoked, I was merely giving him power over me. I absolutely refuse to let him do that to me any longer. When I got to that point, his words meant nothing to me anymore. Not if I didn’t let them.”

  I can’t help but compare my own situation to his. I think of my mother and the words that she always used against me. My mind is spinning with Jax’s words and the harsh words of my mother that I fight every day. “How? How did you get past it?”

  “Well, it wasn’t pretty. Unfortunately, the anger and resentment continued to build up inside of me until it exploded one day at the gym and I did something that it took me a really long time to forgive.” I stay quiet knowing he’ll continue if and when he’s ready and willing. “One day my father kept pushing and pushing. By this point he’d learned which buttons of mine worked the best and enjoyed pissing me off and making me feel invisible in his eyes. Like I meant absolutely nothing to him. Something inside of me just… snapped. I couldn’t take it anymore. I refused. And then, I attacked Louie.” He grimaces at the memory and runs his hand through his hair.

  “I was really angry at my father, but took my anger out on Louie instead. While I was hitting Louie with jab after jab, it was my father’s face I was seeing in my mind. I used my fists to fight against the rage my father made me feel. You see, fighting has never been about anger issues for me. I don’t fight because I have some deep seeded need to beat the shit out of people, and it’s not because it meets some deranged need inside of me that I have to hurt people. Those are all typical fighter stereotypes that all fighters have heard. But in that moment, that purely disgusting moment when I lost myself, I was fighting for all of those reasons.”

  Moving to him, I take his hand in mine, “It’s your father’s fault. He pushed you too far. Anyone would crack after dealing with that time and time again.”

  “That’s what I told myself at first too, but I’m responsible for my actions, not my father. I let his words have power over me and affect me in ways that Louie certainly didn’t deserve. It took four guys to pull me off of him. For a horrible moment I felt extremely victorious. I watched him bleeding and hurting on the mat and I turned to my father to throw it in his face. I wanted to shout at him and ask him what he thought about me now, and in one instant, one fucking instant all those feelings came crashing down. I realized that I played right into my father’s jealousy and I did exactly what he was hoping I would do. When my eyes met his, I knew. I just fucking knew that it was what he was manipulating me to do all along.”

  “How? How did you know?”

  “Because he was smiling.”

  Jax’s story humbles me and after we clean the kitchen we are both quiet and contemplative. “Since we have a while before I have to be at the casino for the fight, I thought we could just relax and take it easy. That’s what I usually do before a fight. I listen to music or watch movies that motivate me.”

  “That sounds good to me, what did you have in mind?”

  “Well, since you are brand new to this whole fighting thing, I thought that today would be the perfect time to begin your initiation into the fighting world, movie style.”

  “Movie style?”

  “Yep. Today we shall break your fighter movie cherry with the movie, Bloodsport.” He pulls the DVD off of his shelf and puts it into his DVD player with a big smile. Once it starts, he grabs the remote and joins me on the couch.

  “Sounds good, Jackson ‘Hands of’ Stooooooone,” he groans in embarrassment at my teasing. “Let’s get started.”

  He laughs and curls up next to me on the couch and we sink into one another and enjoy the show.

  I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed myself so much before a fight. When I woke up this morning I had a beautiful girl in my arms. Before getting up, I enjoyed watching her sleep in my arms for a long time. How could I not? She looked so perfect and peaceful lying there. Waking up with a girl is a new experience for me. Rowan and I haven’t discussed our past involvements yet, maybe we never will, but one thing she would find out about me is that relationships are something I’ve never done before. The hit a sleaze and leave kind of relationship has always been my style. Eventually, I forced myself to get out of bed, make coffee and get my butt to the store so I could provide nourishment for my girl.

  What happened in the shower was unexpected and a complete bonus. Technically, I really shouldn’t have sex before a fight. The loss of testosterone, use of energy and all that shit probably isn’t smart. Ah well, I will gladly take a few extra jabs in the face tonight in exchange, because that was all kinds of fucking worth it.

  What is this girl doing to me? I find myself telling her things I‘ve never told anyone. I also find myself wanting her in a way I’ve never wanted anyone and the thought of losing her isn’t an option. I don’t ever want to let her go. I’m pretty sure I was lost in her from the moment I saw her in that hospital emergency room. Our souls crashed into each other that day, and it was all over after that.

  Sitting on the couch with her in my arms while we watch Bloodsport is fun. She keeps asking so many questions about the movie versus real life and I’m really enjoying myself. Teaching her about the sport my life is so wrapped up in is really cool. Especially because she seems genuinely interested. Which reminds me…

  “Rowan, one thing that I want to talk to you about in all seriousness before I forget is that I really would love it if you would help me with the social media like we discussed at dinner last night.”

  She turns to me, “I’ll help you. I’ll help all of you like I said, I’m happy to. But, it’s the paying me part that I don’t like.”

  “Babe. I told you that if I was hiring someone else to help me they would get paid for their time, so I’m going to pay you just like I would anyone else.”

  She shakes her head making me frown. “I don’t like it. Not at all.”

  “Then take the money and use it for another social media class. Put it in the bank. Open a college fund for Lily. I don’t care, but you are taking it and that’s all I have to say about that.” I cross my arms and try to look stern.

  Her full lips curve upwards and I see her eyes soften. “Okay. I would love to help you.” She immediately jumps up and leaves the room. When she returns she has her laptop in her arms and it makes me laugh.

  “You brought that with you? I’m not sure if I should laugh or feel offended that you thought you would need your computer to keep you entertained.”

  She laughs and I love the sound, “Yeah, I know it’s silly but it’s kind of my pride and joy. I bought it refurbished and got a great deal. My whole life is in this thing and I pretty much bring it with me whenever I go too far from home and certainly if I go to stay overnight.”

  “You go elsewhere over night often?”

  Her face falls and she immediately looks uncomfortable, “Well… not anymore.” It dawns on me that she is talking about the ex and I’m not interested in this conversation. At all. “Anyways, I’m glad I have it. Let’s do a few social media things now, if you’re game.”

  “Sure.”

  We spend a couple hours together making a Facebook profile for me as a public figure, which is really weird. We then start one for the gym. She asks me questions about the business, and about me, in order to formulate bios that won’t make me sound stupid. When we’re done she and I both feel great about what she has created so quickly and easily.

  I check out the time on my phone, “Babe, we need to get ready to go, but can you promise me something really quick?”

  “Yeah sure”

  “When Levi, Cole and Ryder are done fighting, they will come sit with you. Dylan and Zane will already be there and will be sitting with you t
oo. Will you please stay seated with them during my fight?”

  “Okay, but why?”

  “The fights themselves can get pretty crazy and it will make me feel better if I know you’re with the guys and I don’t have to worry about your safety.”

  “I can take care of myself, Jax. I have for a long time.”

  “First of all, I’m not suggesting you can’t take care of yourself. If anyone knows how self reliant and strong you are, it’s me. Second, you may have always taken care of yourself, but I’m here now and I consider it an honor to take care of my girl. And tonight, this is one of the ways I can demonstrate that I trust my friends to take care of you, okay?”

  She gives me a kiss on the lips and whispers, “Okay, I understand. I’m excited for my first fight!”

  We begin getting ready and it surprises me how much I enjoy watching her do such mundane things like her hair and makeup. Feeling like I’m going to have to hand in my man card any moment, I leave the room and wait for her to get dressed. When she finally walks out of the room, my jaw drops to the floor. She’s wearing a jean skirt that makes me seriously question its ability to cover her ass, a ribbed low cut red tank and sandals. “You can’t fucking wear that,” I blurt out and cross my arms doing my best to close my mouth.

  She looks down at herself and then at me in confusion, “What’s wrong with this?”

  “Babe. I’m supposed to be concentrating on the fight, not worrying about fighting guys off of you.”

  “Oh please. You’re being ridiculous.”

  Sighing, I shake my head and make a note to have a serious talk with the guys. They’ll have to keep a sharp eye on her, but not too sharp. Fuck, she makes me crazy. In a good way. Gesturing for her to walk in front of me out the door, I check out her legs and ass. It takes a physical effort to keep myself from jumping her again. I want her milky white skin under my hands, my mouth and my teeth. Doing my best to suppress a groan at the thought, I help her into my truck.

  When we arrive at the casino, I have to get my butt backstage and into the dressing room so I can listen to my music, the advice from Gil and just zone out until I’m up.

  Turning to Rowan, I cup her face, “Listen babe, I know I already asked you to stay with the guys during my fight, but please stay with them when it’s over too. I’ll have to meet with the fight doctor afterwards to get cleared, and clean up. I’ll either come and get you, or most likely they’ll bring you to me afterward. Regardless, just stay with them, okay? I’ll panic if I can’t find you in the crowd.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I promise I will stay with them. Now go. I’m the last thing you need to focus on. Do what you need to do and I will see you afterward. You just worry about kicking some ass, okay?”

  “Okay, oh and I almost forgot,” I pull out Rowan’s VIP pass and hand it over. She barely spares it a glance before putting it around her neck. Zane walks up behind her and I give him a nod. “Zane, a moment?”

  He nods and we step aside, “If anyone touches my girl tonight in an inappropriate way, I’m going to hold you personally responsible. I know she’s dressed to kill, but fuck man, if I see anyone coming onto her or touching her or just near her, I won’t be able to concentrate. You and the boys keep an eye on her, yeah?”

  “You know it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Walking back to Rowan, I smile, “Have fun watching the fights. I wish I could sit with you to watch them and take in your reactions, but we will another time for sure.”

  “Sounds great. Now go!” She reaches up and gives me a kiss that has good luck screaming all the way through it. I let the moment take me over and lose myself in the kiss. I grip her hips closer to mine and nibble on her bottom lip before I let her go. There are catcalls around us, but I ignore them. Fuck if I care that they know she’s mine.

  “I’ll see you later, okay babe?”

  “Okay, good luck. Kick some ass!”

  I make my way to the back nodding and shaking hands with people on the way. When I get to the dressing room, Gil is already there chatting it up with some other coach and nods at me in hello. Putting my ear buds into my ears, I quickly text a message to all the guys but Zane, threatening bodily harm if anything happens to my girl. Then, I pull up the hood of my sweatshirt and clear my mind of everything except the fight ahead and the music blaring in my ears.

  The crowd is crazy. Our seats are in the front row and I have Zane on one side of me, Dylan on the other. As each fighter makes their way to the cage, they pass right in front of us, which is pretty cool. My knee bounces up and down and I even pull my nails out of my mouth a few times finding myself biting them in nervous anticipation of Jax’s fight. We’ve already sat through a few fights, including Levi’s. He was pretty entertaining when he fought, I must admit. Jumping around like his feet were on fire, I don’t think his opponent knew what the hell he was going to do next. I’m not sure if Levi won due to incredible strategy, or because his opponent was confused and dizzy as hell and gave up.

  Levi hasn’t joined our group yet, but Zane said he should be out any time. Cole is up now and the guys cheer super loud when he’s announced. We watch as he starts making his way down the aisle towards the cage and when he passes in front of us we all pat him on the back and cheer him on. Cole nods his head at us and keeps his serious demeanor as he steps into the cage, walks to the corner, and removes his t-shirt and sweatpants. Once again, the man that I now know is Jax’s father, and Cole’s coach, is right there alongside him. Anger stirs in my belly when I remember the story Jax shared with me about his father. He’s whispering in Cole’s ear and looks like he’s talking really fast. Cole is nodding at whatever he’s saying.

  “Zane?”

  “Yeah, doll?”

  “What’s Jax’s dad’s name?”

  He looks at me wide-eyed, maybe surprised I know who Jax’s dad even is before he answers, “Jerry.” I nod and look back at the cage. Each fighter is standing in their corner until the referee tells them to come forward. He gives a brief reminder of the rules and then signals the beginning of the fight. They barely take a step toward one another before Jerry is already yelling at Cole. “Get in there and take it to him!”

  “Give him a chance before you start yelling, douchebag,” Zane mutters and I absently nod my head. I don’t know much about this, but I was thinking the same thing.

  Each fighter seems to be dancing on their toes trying to feel each other out. Cole tries a punch and kick combination that isn’t successful. Before he can catch a breath his opponent, Gene Francois, tries the same combination, but he doesn’t land it either. Zane and Dylan are pretty quiet next to me. We’re all standing but they seem to be taking it all in. When Cole dives for Gene’s knees the crowd starts yelling in excitement.

  “Why’s he doing that?” I ask Zane.

  “He was going for a takedown, but he missed. He wasn’t doing very well standing up so he wanted to try and take the fight to the ground. Plus, fighter’s that do the most take downs tend to be scored better by the judges.”

  After failing to land the take down, Cole throws a wild punch that completely misses. Through the first round it seems like Cole and Gene are evenly matched as far as the punches and kicks they’ve landed. When round one comes to an end, we all shout and cheer for Cole offering our encouragement. Jerry is immediately shouting in Cole’s ear when he reaches his corner. Cole nods at his coach’s words and drinks water trying to catch his breath, until the bell sounds for round two.

  “Come on, Cole!” Dylan yells.

  “You got this!” Zane adds.

  “Get your ass in there and stop being so soft!” Jerry screams making the guys curse under their breath. I can’t help but glare at Jerry even though he has no clue – it just makes me feel better.

  Round two is more of the same except right before the bell rings Gene takes Cole to the ground. When round three begins, both fighters are showing signs of fatigue, but their fists stay high. Cole comes out more aggress
ive at the beginning, but eventually gets taken to the ground once again. Each of them fights for position, rolling around the floor. One minute Cole is on top, and then Gene. It all looks pretty wild to me, but everyone is cheering and screaming around me, including the guys this time. Neither one of them manages to top the other before the bell rings, indicating the end of the fight. They each go to their corners and sit.

  “Ladies and gentleman, we go to the judges score cards.”

  “Okay guys, since neither of them was the obvious winner by tap out or knock out,” they both smile at me and I roll my eyes. “Shut up. I read about this a little. Anyway, just tell me what’s happening?”

  Dylan laughs then says, “The judges are submitting who they think won each round and the fighter that takes the most rounds wins.”

  “And what makes a fighter win a round?” I ask.

  “The judges evaluate each round based on mixed martial arts techniques like effective striking and effective grappling and aggressiveness. They each sit at various positions around the cage and based upon their evaluations choose who wins the round in their opinion.”

  “Okay, got it.” We all wait on pins and needles for the judge’s decision. I check out Cole while we’re waiting. He appears to be doing okay. He’s got a couple knots on his face, one under his nose and another on his forehead, but nothing too serious.

  “Ladies and gentleman all three judges score the fight 28-29, 29-28, 29-28, declaring the winner by unanimous decision, Gene Francois.”

  Cole and Gene walk to the middle and shake each other’s hands and do a guy hug back pat thing, then Gene celebrates with his team and is interviewed while Cole and his team make their way out of the cage. Cole’s head is down as he makes his way past us and I can hear Jerry in his ear, “How many fucking times have we been over that? You’re going to end up being a sorry sack of shit like my son. I expect better from you. If you can’t get your shit together then stop wasting my fucking time.”