Chapter Two
BELLA
Five Years Ago
I’m sitting in my bedroom staring outside at the beautiful weather.
After five days straight of rain, I am sick of being indoors.
The sun is shining and there isn’t a cloud in sight.
I’m dying to go for a run, but I’m not in the mood for another run on the treadmill indoors, so I text my two best friends: Marco and Tristan.
Surely, one of them will want to join me for a run.
Group text: (Marco, Tristan, Bella)
Me: What are you guys doing? I’m bored.
Tristan: Mom is making me help clean the house. You?
Me: That sucks. Watching Something About Mary.
Marco: Of course you are…
Me: Oh hush! Wanna go for a run?
Tristan: Can’t… cleaning!
Marco: Where?
Me: Red Rock.
Marco: Okay. Pick you up in twenty.
Me: Okay.
Tristan: Have fun
I pause my favorite movie and throw on my athletic shorts, a sports bra, and a tank top.
Then I grab my favorite hoodie from over the back of my chair and throw it on over my head.
Even though it’s April in Vegas, the weather is cooler along the trails.
I put on my socks and running shoes then grab my water bottle from my nightstand to fill it up in the kitchen.
Once I’m dressed and ready to go, I grab the hair tie from around my wrist and throw my thick mane up into a ponytail.
As I’m leaving my room, I get a text, so I stop and check it.
Lucas: Wanna hang out?
Me: Can’t
I stuff my phone into the front pocket of my hoodie then pull it back out.
Me: Sorry. Another time?
Ever since starting high school this year, it feels like everything is changing. For so long, I was just Bella, the MMA fighter. Guys always saw me as one of them. But this year, something shifted.
I look at myself in the mirror to see if anything significant has changed, but I’m still just…
me. I have chocolate brown hair that has a natural curl to it and matching brown eyes just like my dad.
I am on the skinnier side from years of working out but was blessed with decent cleavage.
I take a closer look in the mirror. My lips are naturally full like my mom’s, and my skin tone is an olive color like my dad’s.
Most people say I’m the perfect mixture of both my parents.
While I don’t think I’m ugly, I don’t think I’ve suddenly morphed into some hot chick.
I don’t wear makeup, my hair is almost always up in a ponytail out of my face, and I can usually be found wearing nothing but athletic attire when I’m not in my school uniform, since I pretty much live and breathe fighting.
My phone dings again.
Lucas: Sure. Maybe we can go to the movies?
Not having any idea how I want to respond to his question, I close out the text and put my phone away.
I don’t think I look any different than I did last year, but for some reason the guys are acting like I’m the new girl in town.
I was born in Las Vegas and have lived here my entire life, so I don’t get it.
I take one last look at myself in the mirror then turn my light off and head downstairs.
“Mom! Dad!” I yell as I walk through the living room. “I’m going running with Marco.”
No answer.
I get to the kitchen and see my younger siblings—Nathan and Lilly—sitting at the bar eating a bowl of cereal.
Nathan is five years younger than me and Lilly is seven years younger.
Long story short, my parents met when they were young, real young.
My mom was eighteen and fresh out of high school and my dad was twenty-two.
They fell for each other instantly but were both heading in different directions in life.
My mom had no idea she was pregnant when they parted ways, and once she knew, she had no way to get ahold of my dad.
Five years later, they found each other, and surprise!
I was in tow. Once they fell back in love, they got married and then came my brother and sister.
“Hey, where are Mom and Dad?” I grab an apple from the fridge, my go-to fruit in the morning, and take a bite, then fill up my bottle with cold water and ice.
“In their room,” Nathan says through a mouthful of cereal.
I look at the clock. It reads 8:00. There’s only one reason my parents would still be in their room this late and I don’t even want to think about that reason.
Sure, I’m aware that’s how my siblings and I were brought into this world but still…
“Okay, well, let them know I went running with Marco.”
“Ugh. Running.” Lilly scrunches her little nose in disgust. She clearly takes after our mom when it comes to exercise, which means it doesn’t happen.
Like at all. Give my mom a book and a comfy couch and she’s good to go.
My dad, on the other hand, is a retired UFC fighter and owns a couple UFC training facilities, including one here in Las Vegas, called Cooper’s Fight Club.
While I enjoy curling up with a good book on a rainy day, I’ve grown up in the gym and will choose anything athletic over lounging around like a couch potato.
“Can I go?” Nathan asks. Like me, Nathan enjoys the more physical activities.
He’s not really into fighting, but he loves to sweat.
He usually spends his days at the recreational center my dad and his friends started years ago.
It’s a sport’s complex for kids and teens to spend their time at as opposed to running the streets.
Nathan is really into football and for only being ten years old, he’s actually really good at it.
“Not today. I’m hoping to get in at least seven miles. How about we go for a run together around the neighborhood tomorrow after school?”
“Okay, cool,” Nathan says, shoving more cereal into his mouth. I finish eating my apple and throw the core in the garbage. I grab a cereal bar and my bottle of water and head toward the front door to wait for Marco as my parents come down the stairs.
“Morning. Just getting up?” I give them a knowing look.
“Actually, we’ve been up for a couple hours. We just had to go upstairs to…” My mom blushes at the realization she’s about to be busted.
So, of course, my dad saves her. “Find something. Where are you going?” Good change of subject, Dad.
“I’m going jogging over at Red Rock with Marco.”
“Have a good run, honey.” My mom gives me a quick kiss on my cheek before going to the kitchen.
“Make sure you warm up good first,” my dad says. Always in trainer mode.
“You got it.”
Marco pulls up in his black Audi A5, a birthday present from his parents for his eighteenth birthday. I yell bye to my parents and run out the door toward his car. I still have ten months until I turn sixteen, but I’m hoping I get something half as hot as his car.
“Hey!” I say, getting in and putting on my seatbelt.
“Morning Belles,” he replies.
Just like I do every time I get in his car, I begin to mess with the music. I grab the auxiliary cord and plug my phone in, clicking play on my playlist.
“Damn, Bella. It’s too early in the morning for your girly shit.”
“Don’t talk trash about Avril. She’s badass.” I stick my tongue out and Marco rolls his eyes at me but still lets me turn it up.
The ride to Red Rock is about twenty-five minutes and the entire way I sing the lyrics to the songs obnoxiously.
Marco shakes his head, but he’s smiling.
Our friendship has always been easy. Even when he hit high school, and I was much younger, things pretty much stayed the same between us.
Sure, he made new friends and would hang out with them occasionally, but he still made fighting and training his number one priority which meant I still saw him daily at my dad’s gym.
He’s never cared that I’m six years younger than him. He’s always treated me like his equal.
Then, when he turned eighteen and started fighting professionally, I was a little older, and in the back of my mind I thought for sure he would forget about me and our friendship, but here we are almost three years later and still hanging out like we always have.
Marco knows what fighting means to me and he’s amazing about encouraging and supporting me.
The only person I’m closer to than Marco is Tristan.
Tristan and I have been friends since we were born (okay, not really, but pretty much).
But while Tristan loves to fight and enjoys it as a hobby, he doesn’t really plan to go professional with it.
He has mentioned taking the training route like his dad or even possibly becoming a sports agent one day. Who knows?
Fighting, in some shape or form, has been a part of our lives for as far back as I can remember.
Marco’s dad, Caleb, is a retired fighter from the UFC just like my dad, and Marco’s mom is a doctor who runs a sports medicine clinic.
My mom does the accounting at the rec center and at my dad’s gym.
Tristan’s dad, Kaden, is a trainer at the gym, and his mom, Ashley, runs the rec center.
My dad’s best friend Bentley used to be a UFC fighter but quit to become a stay-at-home dad years ago, and his wife, my aunt Kayla, who pretty much helped raise me for the first four years of my life, works with Marco’s mom at the sports clinic as a physical therapist.
See what I mean? Fighting is my life. My dream is to one day become a UFC women’s champion.
Marco understands where I’m coming from because his goal is just like mine.
Since he started fighting, he has been in several fights in the last couple years and is undefeated in his weight class.
His most recent fight was a few weeks ago and he was the main card event on Pay-Per-View.
It’s the first fight he made seriously good money on, especially since he won, but more importantly he has become a household name.
He has women showing up to the gym wanting to go out with him, they are stalking his social media, and guys will ask him for his autograph while we’re out somewhere.