The Fighter Omega

Chapter 4 - Bella

A week ago, I was panicking. I didn't understand how my father found me or why he would bring me back now. Lee and I took the time to panic over a bottle of cheap wine after that text came in, and the next day we got down to business. We decided Lee and Connor would come with me to the fight, especially because we all think something else is going on for my father to reach out so randomly. The rest of the week I went to work at the diner as normal, but I spent every free moment in the gym. I lifted weights, hit the bags, and had sparring matches with the guys there until I wore myself down to exhaustion. I spent the last day and a half recovering and resting so that I could go into this fight tonight fresh. But now that I'm here? Oh, now that I'm here I am pissed.

I fought for my freedom, and now it's been rescinded. It's absolute bulls***. Now that I'm here, I see plenty of familiar and unfamiliar faces in the crowd and even in the ring. One of the guys that's fighting right now was one that was in the ring with me that day. He was new back then, had only been in the ring a couple of times before my freedom fight. Now though, he's fast, brutal, and lethal. I still think I could hold my own against these guys. I've been training with professional fighters for the last year and a half after all. But where professional fighters are clean and adhere to some pretty strict rules, fights on the circuit are savage because there are no rules.

I'm bored with watching such a one-sided fight though. My old opponent has just been playing with his opponent for the last five minutes. Throwing fakes, soft jabs, sometimes a kick. He could have taken him down to the floor and already knocked him out, but he seems a little to sadistic for that. I don't even remember the dude's name. Was it Ricky? Ryan? Something with an R, I think. Eh, I don't really care. I need to go to the locker room and get ready for my own match. I expect my father won't find me until after my match, so I've got time to waste. I look behind me at Connor and Lee. Connor looks like a pissed off guard dog, standing tall with his arms crossed. His brown eyes are so dark they almost look black in this lighting. Lee, on the other hand, looks like she's trying to look intimidating, but is actually panicking. I think they have actually had stronger feelings about me being called back than I have. Can't blame them though, they're the ones who patched me up after my freedom fight, and from what I remember of the aftermath, it wasn't pretty.

"Hey guys, I'm gonna head to the locker rooms. I'll have my phone on me, so if there is anything I need to know, just shoot me a text, 'kay?" I turn to talk to them, kind of yelling so that they can hear me over the crowd. They both nod at me, too nervous to actually speak, and I head off.

On my way to the locker room, I pass an office that I assume belongs to my father, but he's not in there right now. I look around myself to see if anyone is in the hallway with me, and when I see it's clear, I duck into the office and close the door behind me. He has a bunch of papers on his desk that don't seem important. I actually only see one with my name, and that's a tournament set-up. Looks like he brought me in for a tournament, but nothing else to show me what's so special about the tournament. I start to go through the drawers on the side of the desk, but it's the same. There are a lot of expense reports for this warehouse and the events, but nothing more than that. Knowing the old man, if there were going to be any documents about what he's up to, he'd probably be hiding them in his home office. Not here, where anyone can pass by and take a peak. Sighing, I leave the office and head to the locker room that's down the hall.

In the locker room, there is another fighter here stretching before his match. He gives me a funny look as I walk in, but the second I drop my hood, he jumps up from the floor. "No way, it really is you Bells!" Jackson comes over and gives me a bear hug.

"Hey man, how have you been? I haven't seen you since I left!" I laugh, hugging the now giant man back. Jackson used to work in set-ups when we were younger, but I guess he's moved his way up the ranks in the time that I've been gone. He was one of the few people who saw the truth of how my father treated me back then, but was just a kid himself since he's two years younger than me. Now, he's all grown up and definitely not the scrawny kid I remember. Jackson's blonde hair is shaved on the sides, but the top is long and pulled back in a man bun. His green eyes are bright with excitement as he looks down at me. He's cleanly built, but I can see the corded muscles in his arms and chest, plus the six-pack of abs. He takes a couple steps back and continues stretching, but facing me so that we can talk.

"I've been good. After you left, your father invested in me as a fighter. He said they needed an underdog to keep fans interested since you left," he shrugs, but I can see the sting of that statement. "He told us you would be coming back for the tournament, but I didn't believe him. How did he convince you?"

I start stretching my arms as we talk, just so I have something to do. "He really didn't give me a choice, Jacks. You know how he is with me. But I'm thinking about making a new deal with him. One where I'll be free for good, you know? It would be nice to live without constantly looking over my shoulder, I guess." I shrug, but I can see the sympathy shining in Jackson's eyes. That's what I always liked about him. He gave me sympathy but never pity.

"Well, I hope you can have that life, Bells, I really do. But," he stops, looking around the locker room before continuing. "Something about this tournament feels weird. Your old man has been having a lot of meetings with the regular fighters and this new investor. I'm not a favorite, so I don't know what's going on. All I do know, is that the tournament is set up to where you and the favorites will end up in the final round."

"I don't know Jacks, that sounds like regular rigging to me, but nothing too suspicious. What about--" I'm cut off by someone calling into the locker room.

"Journey! You're up!" I look at Jacks, more than a little confused.

"Journey is my stage name," he chuckles. "After your fight, come back here Bells, I'll give you my number so we can keep in touch."

"Sounds good, man! Good luck out there!" I call after him cheerfully, and he laughs over his shoulder. Once he's gone, I strip down to my spandex shorts and sports bra, stashing my clothes in an empty locker for after my match. I pull my earbuds out of my shorts pocket before closing the locker door, and fire up my Shinedown playlist on my Spotify. I always listen to Shinedown when I'm stressed, and something about what Jacks said isn't sitting right with me. It really does just sound like regular old rigging, but if the favorites are the same guys from two years ago, are they gunning for a repeat of my freedom fight? I've been off the circuit for two years, while those guys have probably continued fighting here. I know I beat them before, but that was just barely back then. I don't know if I could do it again, if I'm being honest. I'll think about it later, though. Right now, I need to focus on stretching and centering my focus so that I can win tonight. I wasn't aware that I was going to be in a tournament, but now that I know, I need to do everything I can to make sure I win my freedom at the end. And this time, I'll win it for good.