Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Josue
Perusing the hospital halls, I made my way to the nurse's station. The main nurse on call, finishing up a phone call, as I approached.
“Hey, I'm looking for a Sierra Medina. Are you able to tell me which room she's in?” The nurse gave me a look like I should have known better, but I wasn't going to let that stand in my way.
“Are you family?” She asked the question out loud this time, causing me to roll my eyes.
“Well, not quite. But it's still important that I see her. Even if only for a few minutes.” With a snarky expression, she jotted something down the on the form in front of her, defaulting what was likely her usual spiel.
“Visiting hours are from ten am to eight pm. Come back during the that time frame.” At my wit’s end, I took a deep breath. The kid just had to pass out outside of normal visiting hours. I leaned in, playing up that charm from time to time I was labeled to be good at.
“Please, I'm begging you to make an exception. I’m not sure she has any family out here. And if that’s the case, I’m her trainer and the only one looking out for her.
I just want…look. I want to make sure she's okay.” Taking a deep breath, the nurse showed me an act of humanity, handing me a visitor's pass after signing it.
“Fine, the girl you're looking for is in room 308.
And if anyone asks, you're her brother-in-law.” I kissed the pass when she handed it to me, shooting her a wink as I folded it up and eased it into my pocket.
It was a good thing she didn't say fiancée. I couldn’t the handle the idea of people thinking the two of us were together.
As I approached the room, I knocked at the doors opening, watching her adjusting and wiggling around on the bed to meet my gaze.
“Hey, kid, you really scared me earlier. Everything okay with you?” I asked, making it over to her bedside, measuring if she was awake enough to have this conversation. She grimaced.
“I mean, I've definitely seen better days.” Resting my elbows on my knees, I lowered down to meet her.
“Now are you going to tell me what's going on, or am I going to have to beat it out of you?” She rolled her eyes, fidgeting with the IV attached to her arm and wire attached to her finger.
“Ugh! This is so embarrassing,” she huffed, shooting her a look that I didn't have all day.
“Well, I've been trying to do what you ask of me.
But the truth is, the meal regimen you have me on, I don't have the time or the money to properly implement it.
These grueling workouts take so much out of me, and I'd already burned through my weekly food budget by day two.
I know it's vital for my energy levels, but after paying my gym dues and getting caught up on some other things, I just don't have the money to make all this possible.” I pinched the space between my brows, releasing a frustrated sigh.
“Medina, why didn't you just tell me?” Even exhausted in a hospital bed, her neck snapping and attitude remained clear and intact.
“Since the beginning, you’ve made it clear to leave my personal stuff at that door.
And I've been trying, but this shit is so hard sometimes.” She broke into a light sob, and instead of telling her to suck it up like I usually did, I let be.
She had just been admitted for exhaustion. She deserved a cry or two.
“But I also said no secrets. Exactly how much are you eating in a day?” I questioned, the puzzled look on her face not good.
“Well, I mark everything I eat down in my notebook. It should be over there in my book bag.” Coming to a stand, I walked over to the table with her belongings, digging deep to find a food journal decorated in bright pink and red strawberries.
I rolled my eyes, flipping through its pages, reading back her records in astonishment.
How the hell she was surviving on so few calories?
“This says most days you don't go over eight hundred. No wonder you're passing the fuck out, you're not fucking eating. You’ve got to be out of your mind, kid. That’s not healthy. I told you that I needed you to take care of your body on the outside, and I would take care of it on the inside,” letting out a deep ancestral disappointed sigh.
“So, how much do you need to jump start this plan?”
“Look, coach, I'm not asking you for a handout. I feel bad enough for even putting you in this situation,” she started, before I cut her off.
“And I told you, no te llores*! I’d do anything to get you to stop crying right now, so just give me a number you're comfortable with, and I'll make sure to check on you from time to time. To make sure you don't need anything. And when you get the food, try to get your produce from a farmer’s market. The Commons at Washington Park is a good start. None of that processed shit.” I offered to stay the night with her right up until her discharge the next morning.
Pulling my car up to the bus stop she waited at, I rolled down the window, gesturing her inside.
“Get in, kid. I'm gonna take you home.” Her face went pale.
“Oh no, you don't have to do that. Long as I eat like you tell me I should be fine. The doctor said so.”
“I don't have to, I want to. Now get in before I change my mind.” She looked at her phone screen, covering the light that shifted into her eyes.
“I live in a pretty rough area. The kind of neighborhood where you park your car for a second and come back to addicts boosting your tires.”
“Mami, where the hell do you think I'm from, New Hampshire? Some gunshots, and dope fiends don't fucking scare me. You’re telling me you'd rather take a long ass bus commute over a quick ride?” She took a deep sigh.
“No, I guess not,” she admitted defeated, as I opened the door from the driver's side and waited as she got in.
She hesitated strapping her seatbelt, her sparkling dark eyes meeting mine, as I stealthily admired her thick, muscular thighs.
“And thank you from the loan, Coach. I promise, when I win my first real fight, you'll be the first I pay back.” I waved her off, pulling off into incoming traffic.
“Don't even worry about all that. Just worry about putting your address in my GPS.” She pursed her lips, stalling as she typed the address, a quick fifteen minutes later, I parked my car in front of her house.
“Right here is fine.” Looking outside to observe my surroundings, I wasn't sure what she was worried about.
“This is where you live? This ain't so bad.” She shrugged.
“It has its ups and downs. I'm probably gonna hit the corner store up the street first, though. No need to walk me up or anything,” she replied, something in her demeanor not sitting right with me.
Without argument, I let her out, saying our goodbyes as I drove off.
But her suspicious behavior convinced me to spin the block to learn where she was really on her way to.
She continued to look around as I kept my distance, until the pit of my stomach dropped when she entered a woman's shelter instead of the house that I dropped her off at.
Was this where she'd been staying this whole time?
Feeling pissed, maybe even a little conned, I dialed her number, grateful when she picked up on that second ring.
“Hey, I think you left your bracelet in my car. You want me to run it up and give it to you? Or are you gonna come down and come get it?” I lied. Panic in her voice, she replied hurriedly.
“Umm…no, that's okay. I'll just get it from you when we train next.” Damn, this girl was good at lying.
“Medina, you know where I am right now? Parked out in front of the shelter you just walked into. If you don't come out and talk to me in less than five minutes, I'll get out and I'll make a scene,” I warned, knowing neither of us wanted that.
“Oh my god, you followed me,” she shot back. “I can't believe you would stoop so low as to invade so something personal.” Bringing the phone closer to my chest, I couldn't help but shout the next part.
“What privacy? You're staying in a god damn shelter. Come out now! O iré por ti*!” I threatened, and like clockwork, she stormed out pissed off as she slammed my car door.
“You know, you could get me in a lot of trouble,” she spat with a cross of her arms. Lifting my index from my temple, my brows furrowed.
That's all you have to fuckin’ say? Nenita*, no wonder you can't afford to eat. You're fuckin’ homeless.”
“Look, I swear it's only temporary,” she argued with an outstretched hand.
“And I shouldn't have to say this un otra vez*! No secretos!*” I shot back. Not knowing this shit, stilted my ability to give my fighters what they needed. I should have known about this the first day.
“I know, and I'm sorry. This isn't ideal, but I wanted to see if I could do it on my own.
It sucks to have people look at me the way you're looking at me right now.
And it sucks to ask anyone for help. You said it yourself, I'm getting better, right?” she asked, peering at me with those sweet doe eyes.
“Sierra, don’t you look at me like that! That's not even the point. You have to tell me these things. Otherwise, once the limelight hits you, I can't protect you from the backlash. You have to be more honest with me. And I mean that shit!” I demanded it, and like a ticking time bomb, she blew up.
“Fine, you want me to be honest with you.
The reason I got into fighting is because fighting is all I know.
When it wasn't my mom choosing her loser boyfriends over me, it was me defending myself from those same assholes. I’ve been on my own since I was thirteen, only to run into the arms of men that showed their love the exact same way.
My entire life I've been someone's punching bag.
I figured if I was gonna get hit, the least I could do is get paid for it.
I don't recognize my life when it's not in survival mode, so I apologize if things I'm dealing with just seem like a regular Tuesday.” I took a heavy sigh, softening my tone.
“Look, I didn't mean to yell at you. The reason we all get into fighting is personal. As much as I hate to admit it, all my drive. All my grit…I see in you. You’re tenacious. Compulsive. You’ve got that hunger. It just looks different for you because you're a woman.” I sighed.
“Look, how much of your stuff is in that shelter?” I asked, knowing that every decision I made with her I'd regret, but she was my fighter. If I was going to take her seriously, that started with helping her where she needed it the most.
“Why?” she questioned, irritation lacing my tone.
“Medina, what did I tell you about questioning every got damn thing?” She shrugged.
“It's just this and another duffel bag with my clothes. Not much.”
“Okay. Well, then grab your stuff before I change my mind,” I ordered, starting my car back up. “I'm not about to invest more money, more time, or more effort in you for you to be my first failure. I have the extra room. You're gonna stay with me.”
“But—” she questioned as I cut her off.
“You question me one more time and I’m gonna leave your ass here. Now c’mon. No desperdicies mi tiempo*!” She left the car, returning in the building to gather the remainder of her things, as a phone call I've been waiting for hit my cell.
“Hey.”
“Your girl free the 29th? That girl from Ohio’s manager is ready to set things up.”
“She'll be ready. Consider it done,” I said, ending the call as she opened the back door and threw her duffel bag on the seat. “Ya*?” I asked, as she nodded and I put the car in second gear. “Good. And before I forget, it’s showtime. I got you your first fight.”
* No crying
* Or I’ll come for you
* Little girl, but informal, like you’re familiar with each other
* One again
* No secrets!
* Don’t waste my time
* Filler word with many contexts, but in this context, like saying You good? Or Ready?