2. Adam
CHAPTER 2
ADAM
I don’t think about my childhood, ever. Remembering the various foster homes I was bounced around to and from isn’t something I like to recall. Sometimes, I do remember what led me to where I am today, and that’s especially true when I’m laying in the quiet. Just the sounds of Athena slithering around the couch onto me, then exploring the couch even more.
She came into my life at a perfect time, just like my first coach, Jesse. I remember the first fight I won and actually making enough money to pay more than just my bills. I finally had enough to buy everything I needed to get her started, and then finally the snake I’d always wanted.
Though, I didn’t make it easy to get there because I did whatever the fuck I wanted to, and hated authority. Some things never change.
The cash is slapped into my hand for my win. It’s not enough, and will barely cover the rent on my shit hole apartment, but it’s all I can do. It’s the only thing I’m good at and I know I’ll win.
I count out the money to make sure it’s all here before grabbing my shit and leaving for the night, knowing I’ll have to be back in a few days to make more for groceries.
As I’m leaving, I hear my name being called and normally I’d ignore it, but then he calls again. “Adam Hayes.”
My head snaps up to see who keeps calling after me, and the man who’s approaching me isn’t familiar, but he raises a hand in a half wave.
“Do I know you?” I snap.
“No, but I’ve been watching your fights and you’re good. But I think I could make you better.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Why the fuck do you think that?”
“My name’s Jesse.” He stretches his hand out, but I don’t take it. “I own a boxing gym, and I think you have potential to go pro, but that’ll never happen if you keep fighting in shitty places like this.”
“Yeah, no thanks.” I shake my head. Fucking sketchy dude approaching me out of nowhere claiming he can make me fight better. Hard pass.
He calls out to me again, and as I ignore him, I get on the Yamaha that I got for way too cheap—though, I was able to fix it up to get it functional again. Luckily, I don't live too far from this fight location, so I'm home in less than ten minutes.
I stash the cash I won in the box I have in my top dresser drawer before cleaning up in the shower that doesn’t get warm enough. When I climb into bed, which is just a thin mattress on the floor, I’m glad it’s summer in Portland, so it isn’t too cold because the blankets I have are wearing thin.
One day this won’t be my life anymore. Everyone has to start somewhere, and the bottom is different for everyone. Mine just happens to be pretty low. But I know I’ll get to the top one day.
I’ve always been tall, but lean, which has always been an advantage while fighting because I’m faster than my opponents and they always underestimate me.
That is until today when I’m paired up with a guy who outweighs me by at least seventy pounds. Still, I refuse to pass up a fight, even if it’s unfair.
It doesn’t take long for me to regret it because I may be quick on my feet, but the bastard is strong, and every punch he lands rattles me more than the last. I’m swaying on my feet, blood is pouring down my face, but I’ll never submit in a fight. I’ll continue going until I’m knocked out.
Though, that’ll be a first for me.
Another hit lands and my ears start ringing. My vision blacks out for a moment and it gives him the perfect opportunity to hit me again almost immediately. I try to stay standing. I try to block. I try to fight back, but everything feels like it’s in slow motion and out of my control. I can’t see straight. I can hardly hear what’s going on around me.
I barely register the next hit, and it’s not until the world is turning on its side that I realize I’m falling. My head hits the ground and everything goes black.
Everything is cold when I wake up, and there’s a beeping noise that’s making the headache, currently playing like a drumbeat in my head, even worse. When I try to open my eyes the bright light is too much and I shut them immediately with a groan.
“You’re awake,” a man’s voice says. I don’t recognize it, but I try to open my eyes again to see. Despite it burning, I refuse to close them.
That’s when I see it’s the man from the other night, but I don’t remember his name. I can hardly remember my own at this moment though because my head hurts so bad.
“What’re you doing here?” I ask, my voice hoarse and throat burning.
“I brought you here. Found you tossed aside, probably left to die by those assholes that don’t care if you live or die.”
“Why?”
He leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “I see something in you, kid. Kinda reminds me of myself when I was young. I see your potential and I think you’re wasting it on fights that won’t get you anywhere except dead.”
I can’t help but feel like there’s a catch here. There has to be because there always is. This guy knows nothing about me, and I don’t know what he could see in me other than the fact that I’m a good fighter, which is true, but so are a lot of other guys.
“You don’t know me.”
“No, but I know potential when I see it.”
“What’s the catch?”
“No catch. Train at my gym, compete in real fights, and let me be your coach. Let me show you what you can accomplish,” he pitches. “If you hate it, then you quit and go back to your underground fights and I won’t bother you again.”
I shift in the stiff hospital bed, fire burning up my side with the movement. “I don’t know,” I grunt.
He stands up, setting a card on the table next to the bed. “Think about it and let me know. I just hope you decide before the next time you end up almost dead.”
And with that he leaves. I drop my head back against the pillow, closing my eyes once again because everything is starting to feel fuzzy again and I end up drifting off.
After I’m discharged from the hospital and I’m laying on my flat mattress on the floor, hardly able to move and unsure of when I’ll be able to pull myself up for a fight again, I make my decision.
Pulling the card from my wallet where I tucked it away I stare at the name on the card—Jesse Anderson—and his phone number.
It takes me another three days before I call him to take him up on his offer to train me. After I do, I’m still not convinced there isn’t a catch. On the first day I show up to train it doesn't include a single moment of fighting, and I finally realize what the catch might be.
“I don’t see how this is going to help me fight,” I say after the fifth round of circuit training Jesse has me complete.
“That’s because boxing isn’t just about punching the other guy in the face.”
“You sure about that?” I scoff.
“Another round,” he barks.
I groan, wanting to argue with him before walking right out of here and go back to what I was doing before.
But I don’t.
I stick with it. Despite the arguments and the misery at times, I stick with it and I trust Jesse. Eventually, when I actually get my first official fight, it’s an entirely different experience than any of my past ones.
I’ve always been self-assured when I stepped into the ring, but this time it’s a different level of confidence. This isn’t about me just believing I’m the best. I’m confident in my skills I’ve learned, and that I’m going to be able to execute them to perfection.
“How’re you feeling?” Jesse asks during my warm ups.
“Good.”
“You got this, kid.”
I nod. I know I’ve got this. The hint of nerves hits me as soon as I enter the ring, and I try to shake them off. As soon as the fight begins, I'm locked in and focused on all the training I've been doing.
I win.
Not only that, I win money and it’s more than I’ve ever made in any of my past fights. I’m almost overwhelmed by the fact that I’ll be able to afford rent, and maybe even something I’ve always wanted.
“How do you feel?” Jesse asks as we’re leaving.
“Like I’m ready for the next one,” I answer honestly.
He chuckles. “There will be more. This is just the beginning.”
For the first time in a while, I fully trust someone else. Because I feel like this really is just the beginning.
There’s a pounding at my door, and I wonder who it could be this late since I assume Max is already asleep, probably with one of the other guys. I set Athena back in her tank before opening the door where I’m met with Caine and Drew standing there. I look around them for the other person that should be standing with them because she would be the only reason they would be showing up to my house right now.
When I don’t see her, I look at the two of them and notice the matching looks of concern and anger on their faces, so I ask, “Where’s Max?”