Chapter 12
Max
The cacophony of thuds, smacks, and bangs echoing through the gym was music to my ears.
For some reason, the boisterous sound was much more soothing to me than silence.
Sounds strange, but it helped me focus. With all the other noises going on around me, I was forced to pinpoint on the one closest to me.
Zero-ed in on the padded gloves of my trainer standing across from me, I fired my fists and feet like precise missiles, hitting every target I aimed them at - and ducking whatever ammo my opponent shot back.
My trainer, Tony’s, grin grew wider with every combo I nailed. Today, we were working on my speed. I had a match coming up, and Tony warned me that my opponent was quick on his feet.
“In order to catch him, you’ve gotta be faster,” he told me.
Unlike other knuckleheads who took their trainer’s advice with a grain of salt, I engraved every word of Tony’s words in the back of my head.
As a kid, I’ve always had a love for mixed martial arts.
My father, once the muscle in the duo that climbed their way to the top of their cartel, introduced the sport to me.
One of my first memories was him taking me to an MMA event to support a contender he was sponsoring.
Since then, there hasn’t been a moment I wasn’t obsessed with the different styles and techniques and forms of fighting.
But, it wasn’t until I saw Tony fight for the first time that I had a role model within the sport.
Right after my parents split and my mom moved us back to her childhood town, she took me to one of the local matches. I guess she figured it’d fill some of the hole my father left in my heart.
When I saw Tony step into the ring, I saw something other than survival or determination in his eyes.
I saw heart.
For the sport. For his community. For his victory.
While the money and the fame was nice, it was clear he was in the ring because he loved it.
And I knew it was a value I wanted to hold too.
When I asked him to train me, despite being ten years old and no muscle on my bones, I was prepared to have my little heart broken. I wasn’t prepared for him to smile and tell me to go throw some gloves on.
From that point on, I didn’t have just a trainer - I had a mentor.
And despite my hard-ass head and quick-ass temper, he whipped me into shape real good - inside and outside of the ring.
“Alright, that’s it!” He yelled, his grin conquering his face. “I’m not even timing you, and I already know your strike timing is three times faster than it was. You speed up a few more seconds, and that boy isn’t gonna know what hit him!”
I nodded, a smile of my own tugging at my lips. “Cool, cool.”
“You alright?” He asked, his brows creasing. “You’ve seemed a little off lately.”
“Yeah, I’m cool.”
The corner of his lips curled up. “Mhm.”
For the millionth time today, my gaze drifted back to the door.
“Are you expecting somebody?” Tony asked.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I have a potential trainee coming in.”
Tony’s brows rose. But, instead of laughter like I expected, his grin grew wider. “Ah, I see. The mentee has become the master.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m far from that. The kid is in a bind. I’m just trying to help.”
“Paying it forward,” he mused. He patted my shoulder. “Always hoped you would.”
My smile became heavier to hold. Tony didn’t know about my association with my father. At least he pretended he didn’t. He always had an ear to the streets, listening to the gossip around the gym and at the barber shop. But, he never brought it up to me directly.
Coming in with bruises and cuts he couldn’t account for wasn’t out of the norm for me. All through high school, I’d come in with petty wounds from my fights with the other boys around the neighborhood. Sure, he gave me stern looks whenever he saw them, but he didn’t press me about them anymore.
The last time he tried, I truly didn’t want to hear a thing he was saying, so I told him I was an adult now and I could make my own decisions.
“I know you can,” he’d replied. “But I need you to make good ones.”
Unfortunately, that wasn’t in my nature.
Tony’s eyes flicked over my shoulder, some movement catching his attention, and his brow rose. “This kid doesn’t happen to share the same face, does he?”
Following his gaze, I saw Jayden wandering inside. His brown eyes curiously bounced around the gym as he pushed his hood off of his head. He hesitated in the huge space in the front hall, clutching the shoulder straps of his backpack and shifting on his feet.
“Jayden!” I called. When his eyes snapped to me, I waved for him to come over.
He hurried over, still catching glances at all the features of the gym as he walked. “Hey,” he greeted. “Sorry, I couldn’t make it earlier in the week. I-”
“It’s fine,” I cut him off. “You’re here now.” I turned to Tony who was still staring at Jayden with creased brows and a cocked head. “Tony, this is my brother, Jayden. Jayden, this is my trainer, Tony.”
“Brother,” he said, letting out a sigh of relief. “Thank God. For a second, I was worried this was your kid.”
I scoffed. “He’s too old to be mine.”
“He doesn’t look that old. That’s all I’m saying.” He held out one of his gloved hands to Jayden. “Nice to meet you, kid.”
Jayden gave him a tight smile as he shook it. “You too.”
“I’ll leave you two to it,” Tony said, taking a few steps back to make his exit. “If you need me, just holler.”
“Will do.” I patted Jayden’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you settled in.”
I led him to the locker room in the back. “Did you bring clothes and stuff?” I asked, glancing over his hoodie and jeans.
He nodded. “In my bag.” He set it down on one of the benches and started digging through it.
As he gathered his change of clothes, I headed into the back corner to grab the roll of duct tape and marker off the small cart there. I ripped off a piece, slapped it on an unclaimed locker, and wrote Jayden’s name on it.
Glancing at him, I noticed the short row of textbooks and notebooks in his bag. “Are you coming from school?”
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I’m in the automotive mechanics program at LA Trade.”
“Oh, you like cars?”
He shrugged. “My uncle is a mechanic. Used to make me help around his shop to keep me out of trouble. In high school, I was accepted into one of the vo-tech programs and earned a few credits for doing their automotive program. Figured, I might as well finish and get my certification.”
“Is becoming a mechanic what you want to do, though?”
“You ask as if I’ve thought of other options.”
“Have you?”
He looked up from his bag to glare at me. “Can you drop the big brother act? I’m here to work, not bond.”
I crossed my arms. “Fine. Since we’re being technical, when can I expect you to show up for ‘work’?”
He looked back down and continued shuffling through the contents of his bag. “Does Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday around four o’clock work for you? I’m still working at the shop the other four days of the week.”
“Sounds good to me.”
He finally pulled out a folded pair of clothes. “Cool.”
I left him alone in the locker room to change. As I waited for him outside, I scanned over the other trainees in the room. Jayden picked a good time to come in. This was usually the time all the others around his age started flooding in.
Perfect, I thought as I spotted one of the rising stars of the age-group on the other side of the room, stretching with some of his other buddies. “Nathan,” I called.
His head whipped around at the sound of my voice. Like an eager puppy, he left his post and ran to my side. “What’s up, Max?” He asked, trying to subdue the grin trying to appear at his lips.
I usually tried not to entertain the younger ones too much.
Tony warned that although I didn’t feel like a celebrity, I was in their eyes.
It wasn’t everyday someone from our neighborhood fought in large, mainstream events.
I’d broken the glass ceiling placed on top of the boys here, and they were always watching, studying on how to do the same.
“You feel like sparring today?”
“With you?” He asked incredulously, his eyes growing wide as the excitement was replaced with fear.
“No.” I jutted my chin at Jayden, who coincidentally was exiting the locker room. “With him.”
“Oh, okay,” Nathan said, his shoulders perking back up. “Yeah, sure.”
Jayden’s brows stitched together as he eyed Nathan up and down. “You want me to go up against him?”
“Mhm. I need to assess what you can do.”
He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something smart, but thought better of it and shrugged his shoulders.
I already knew what he was thinking: he’d gone up against men three times bigger than him. What was Nathan, someone his own size, going to do?
I got them situated with finger-less gloves and guided the two of them over to the padded mats in the corner of the room, specifically designated for grappling. I would’ve thrown them in one of the small octagons on the floor, but I didn’t want to draw attention.
“Remember, you’re just sparring,” I told them, more to Jayden than Nathan. “Don’t actually try to hurt each other.”
Nodding, they touched gloves and started circling each other.
Using his prior technique, Jayden waited for Nathan to throw the first few swings. He easily dodged or blocked them.
As expected, Nathan quickly grew tired of being on the offensive. But, instead of wearing himself out like Jayden was expecting, he got in close and swiped one of Jayden’s legs out from underneath him.
Jayden’s expression didn’t falter as he hit the ground. Unamused, he started pushing himself back up.
Nathan wasn’t letting that happen. He grabbed Jayden’s ankle, tugged him off of his palms.
Jayden flopped back down on his back with a soft “thud.” His eyes widened a bit as he noticed Nathan moving over him, trying to secure a mount. Trying to avoid it, he flipped onto his stomach, unintentionally giving Nathan exactly what he wanted.
In the position, Nathan easily wrapped an arm around Jayden’s neck and hooked his legs around his torso. Spinning them around, he squeezed each of the connected joints around Jayden’s torso, putting him in a tight headlock.
Jayden tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but it was too late. Nathan’s grasp was already secure. He had no choice, but to tap in submission.
“You want us to go again?” Nathan asked after releasing Jayden.
I shook my head. “Nah. I saw what I needed to see. Thank you.”
Nathan stood up and held his glove out to Jayden. “Good match,” he told him.
Jayden grabbed hold and let Nathan help him to his feet. “Thanks.” He waited until Nathan jogged away to glare at me. “You knew he was going to do that,” he grumbled.
“Actually, I was hoping he’d put you in a triangle lock and humble your ass. But that worked too.”
Jayden’s look sharpened, nearly becoming lethal.
I almost smiled at the daggers he was shooting at me.
“You’re quick on your feet,” I complimented.
“But you need to learn how to be quick in the head too. A lot of the men in the underground rings aren’t privy to grappling.
All they want to do is beat the shit out of their opponent.
They don’t care about strategy or technique.
You’re able to dance around them because you’re fast. But, you’ll need to learn other ways to gain the upper hand.
” I stood across from him and lowered myself down onto my knees. “Come on. I’ll teach you a few holds.”
He hesitated for a moment, staring at me with uncertainty in his eyes. Still, he mimicked my position on the mat and waited for the next instruction.
We still had a lot of work to do, for his training, our relationship, but for the most part, I think we had a decent foundation to build on.