Path To Redemption (Fighter's Den, #1)

Chapter 9 - Jaxon

Cover by @LuvDarkAngel! Check out Jaxon's jaw, though!

"Watch my left, watch my left!" Coach barks when I fail to block another one his jabs.

This one hits me square in the eye and I have to surpress a groan. Fuck. That hurts.

"You're focusing too much on my fist, boy. Watch my entire body. The direction it turns will give away which arm I'm about to jab with." He advises and I shake out my arms and head, mentally getting it together.

I've been training for three weeks now and Coach has been busting my balls mercilessly. I come at the gym everyday at 5 am and work out for an hour with weights, exercises, and cardio. Then I train for the better part of three hours working the punching bag or skipping rope. Occasionally I spar with the other guys but not consistently. I'm not at that level yet. Coach is the only one I spar with everyday because he knows exactly what level to work me at. He doesn't give it to me easy though and I'm grateful for it. I've got a lot of work to do. I know he sees now how serious I am since the day I walked into his office with my gym gear in place, telling him that I'd respected his wishes long enough but just because he was my Coach didn't mean I'd let him call all the shots. I had more resilience than that and I'd planned on using it towards boxing. He'd watched me thoughtfully for a few minutes before telling me to get my ass into the ring. And that was that.

I've become more dedicated to the sport itself, putting in more hours than Coach gives me. I'm the first one at the gym and the last one to leave. I use the time between my training and my job to both nap and spend time with Lizzie. And if I'm up for it, I go back to the gym after my shift to put in more hours of exercise. Stamina and reflex are huge factors for boxing and I need both to be at its very peak if I have any chance of becoming good. At first, I put in my dedication to make up for all the lost time that could've been spent avenging Sam's dream. Now, I'm starting to understand the notion behind his passion because he was right; the sport is fucking thrilling. I fend off all of my anger and negativity through boxing, the adrenaline coursing through my veins when I fight. The accomplishment of losing all your energy at the end of training is so damn satisfying, it's easily become addicting.

Another punch lands on the side of my head so swiftly I'm pretty sure my brain rattles.

"Focus, Cage." Coach growls and I stray away from my thoughts. When you're fighting, everything about the game should be your only focus. I've learned the hard way that there's no room for anything except the fight.

"Now pay attention to the direction of my body."

He circles me and I watch him like a hawk. I see his body turn slightly right and I sidestep him as he delivers a right jab. I use advantage of his miss by throwing a counter punch and striking at his chin. His head knocks slightly back and I'm pleased as fuck.

"Good." He grunts. "Now, come on the offense."

I shift my weight on my feet, bouncing a little, before shooting my arm out in a right straight punch. Coach easily dodges it and returns with a left hook to my chest that just about knocks the air out of my lungs.

"You left yourself wide open, Cage. Every time you deliver a punch you need to make sure the other half of your body is cowered in as a shield. Again." He demands.

I decide to go for a cross. Covering my left arm over my chest as defense, I lunge a power punch with my right arm but miss again. Coach delivers a shovel hook at my miss, knocking my head to the side with a left hook and then backward with an uppercut to the chin. I stumble back and fall on my ass. Feeling a liquid texture in my mouth, I spit out over the side of the ring and see that it's blood.