Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sierra
Thank god I’d been on a winning streak and had some cash stashed while I figured out this transition. The money would help keep me in a motel until I found another trainer, which shouldn't be too hard, considering the number of fights I’d won in the past few months.
I hadn't decided if I'd planned on taking the DaCosta fight with Vega, but his number had been ringing coming up on my phone screen nonstop since we talked.
I knew I could walk into any gym with a decent number of female fighters and have them support me in my corner if I chose to.
One thing was for certain, I didn't need the House of Beast, and I didn't need Josue Mendez.
Unfortunately, in the heat of our argument, I hadn't considered that a shit ton of things I left behind in his office, I had actually needed, and given that I couldn't afford to replace any of it, I had to wait for a day I knew he wouldn't be there. I just hadn’t counted on running into Héctor.
“Hey, what's going on?” He met me with a friendly hug and smile.
Unlike Josue, his energy was always welcoming, so I stuck around to chat.
“Where have you been the past few days? When you're gone, we just feel it.
And smell it too, because you're the only one who comes with your own spray bottle,” he joked, which was true.
What could I say? I hated smelling like sweat all day. “Everything okay? You doing good?”
Discomfort laced in my tone, I hated to disappoint him.
“Yeah, but I think I'm gonna find a new gym to train at.
The thing with me and Josue isn't really working out, and I wanted to find a new trainer while I'm still on people's radars,” I admitted as Héctor narrowed his eyes at me, crossing his arms at the chest.
“This wouldn't have to do with the fact that y’all fucking, does it?” he wondered, my mouth dropping at his consistent assumption. I wasn’t confirming that.
“He and I are not fucking,” I lied, trying but failing to maintain eye contact.
“Sierra, I been knowing my man's twelve years, and he has never lost to me in a game of dominoes unless he's fucking. He doesn't make time to meet women. I'm smart, I just put two and two together. I won’t, however, judge you. But for real, you're really leaving, because what?”
“Things just didn't work out?” Fidgeting with my duffle bag’s shoulder strap, I shifted my gaze downward.
“There’s actually more to it. I wasn't honest about something I should have been,” I hesitated.
“I have a kid, and I knew that if he knew, he might not have been interested in training me.
Especially after he turning me down the first time.
Now we're at this place where we don't trust each other.
Once that's lost, it's hard to get back.” Hector nodded, understanding.
“I see. Why don't I treat you to eat or something? We could talk more about it over lunch. You in a rush?” Hungry, I didn't want to pass up a free meal. Especially since I lost access to Cafe Josue, and returned to my regular meal plan. Translation, I ate when I ate.
“Sure, I have time,” I said, as he walked me out to his car.
***
He was nice enough to treat me to a fancy salad bar that aligned with my regimen, as he suggested we sat down to talk.
“You know, you don't have to tell me, but what's the deal with your kid? Why'd you want to keep that a secret?” I sighed, careful not to use too much of this fantastic creamy dressing.
“I don't know. My experience dealing with male trainers, a lot of them won't take you seriously.
I learned that the hard way. That's why I stopped telling people.
I don't hide it. I just don't tell anyone.
But I guess to Josue that's the same thing,” I admitted, savoring the crunchy almonds in my salad.
“I can't really say he would have taken you on if he had known.
His whole deal with female fighters has always been…
I don't need to tell you that he feels like woman shouldn't be fighting. I'm sure he’s told you that many a times,” he said, slicing through his already cut steak in the salad with a knife that he asked to have steamed before he used it.
If I didn't know any better, I'd say he had the ‘tism.
“Too many times to count.”
“You ever ask him why?” When I thought about it, I assumed it was because he thought men were superior. I never really asked if there was a deeper reason. I shook my head, hoping to get some insight.
“Do you know about his mom?” I took a deep breath.
When he told me how she died, and that he witnessed it, I never really put the two together.
But it made sense. I know if I had seen my mom die by the hands of another person, I probably wouldn't want to fight it at all.
Just the fact that I survived abuse made me normalize making a career out of it, but if it was happening to, say my daughter, fighting wouldn't sound so appealing.
“Yeah, he told me about that. It sounded really tragic.” He shrugged.
“He's not gonna bring it up all the time, but I can tell that shit haunts him.
It's not an excuse to be an asshole, but whether you were just fucking or headed toward something more, training you is going to trigger him sometimes.
But I'm sure he'd get over the omission of you having a kid.
He knows why you didn't tell him.” Another sigh.
“Well, I don't exactly have time for things to switch up.
I definitely don't have it in me for bread crumbing, so for now I'm just gonna stay single.
All these men out here act like they hate single moms. I'm not gonna pursue someone who feels like I should be lucky to be chosen because I'm a single mom or worse, choose someone who's made his stance perfectly clear where he stands with kids.
Maybe we shouldn't have crossed that line.
I guess I just… I don't know what I thought. I just want enough money to get my daughter back. To hell with all this fucking other stuff,” I said, pushing the remainder of my salad around with the fork.
“He really cares about you, you know? He's got a passive way of showing it, but I know he wants you back.
I think he was just hoping you'd just swallow your pride and come back home.” That was the thing.
It wasn't my home, it was his. And as long as I was in pursuit of winning custody of my daughter, Josue and I could never be more.
“Yeah, well, if he wants me to wave the white flag, I might as well continue my journey with a new coach. I do miss his at-home Chipotle bowls, though. That man could actually cook,” I lamented, getting the rest of my food wrapped in a doggy bag, as Héctor covered the bill in cash.
“Well, thanks for kicking it with an old man. Learned lots of terms today I can use on my kids now,” he joked, and at just a few years older than Josue, he didn’t look it.
“Oh, come on, Héctor, you're not old.” Struggling to watch him stand, I almost choked on my words.
“Yeah, wait until you get to your 40s. The weather starts telling you how your joints feel, you start getting special inserts to stand all day, and all of a sudden you regret every time you rushed to the dance floor hearing the violins in the intro when you just had to represent for the 99-2000.” I laughed.
“You know I was born in 2000, right?”
“Well, then you ain't never gonna know. Phew, I can link all my health problems on that era, and that era alone,” he continued, as he offered to give me a ride home. Not wanting to spend a ninety-minute commute to get back to my motel, I accepted his gesture.
Having some time to debate it, the next time my phone rang and it was Vega’s number on the screen, I answered, just to see what he was selling.
“Sierra Medina, it's good that I could finally catch you. I've been calling you nonstop.”
“Here's the thing, I'm kind of in between trainers right now, and I wanted to wait until I had someone who could negotiate a better deal than I could. I want to do it. I just don't want to get screwed over.” On the other end, he took a deep sigh.
“I’ll level with you. The real draw is between me and Mendez.
We have a history and now folks want to see another standoff with us.
As far as he’s concerned, that’ll never happen.
But the people under our wings? They’ll settle for that.
It can still be a decent payout for you.
I don't do this for just anyone, but I'd even offer a participation fee. Win or lose, under the table.”
“How much?”
“I can do twenty grand.” Twenty thousand dollars. It wouldn’t have been a lot of money to many, but twenty grand could guarantee a few months’ rent. It was too much guaranteed money to walk away from.
“Can I… can I have a more time to think about it?”
“Sure, but you better think fast. This offer isn't going to last long. You got until Friday to get back to me. After that, I'll be moving on.”
Deep breaths. I had less than a week to decide. That meant I had less than a week to find a new coach. Maybe if I explained the fight proposal with DaCosta, gyms would be more likely to take me on without having to sell myself.
That kind of money seemed small, but it was guaranteed without Josue’s help.
Without Josue’s help, I was doubting if I could even fight this girl.
He was the reason I’d gotten this far. At least, if I lost, that money could help me get Mónica back.
I didn't know what to do. But I had less than a week to decide.
Taking a shower, I traded my gym clothes for a bonnet and sleep shirt, readying myself for bed until a loud knock came at my motel door.
Looking in the bathroom to ensure nothing was leaking, I tiptoed to the peephole, just in case I chose to pretend to ignore it.
I took a step back, taking a deep breath.
Here I was thinking Héctor was just being nice.
That payaso* told Josue where I was staying. Fuck him and his Dominican ass. Re-approaching the door, I turned the deadbolt, Josue on the other side of it, looking more sympathetic than usual.
“Hey, can we talk?”
* Clown