Tornado (18+)

10- Tez

I take several steadying breaths before opening my eyes and focusing on the sound of Jace's voice. It's been a month since I saw Paisley at The Lazy Lion, and during that time I've been working on straightening myself out. I've swapped alcohol for coconut water and bar snacks for nuts and Greek yogurt.

Not one drop of alcohol has passed my lips in three weeks.

My gym game has been ramped up too. Each swing of my arm, each strike of my foot, each slam to the mat, and each punch to the bag I've given during sparring sessions with Jace has only one purpose.

To win Paisley back.

She won't be with me while I'm hell-bent on destroying myself and everything I touch. I don't blame her. Now she's my focus. I haven't wanted anything so badly. Everything Billy has taught me over the years seeps through my veins pushing me to be a better fighter. A better version of myself.

To fill in the long nights I usually spent in the pub getting wasted, I've kept myself busy watching old fights of Evander Holyfield's, and cyberstalking Paisley. It came as a surprise to learn her brother Lucien is also on the MMA circuit. Footage of his first fight is available on YouTube, and after watching, I learned his style is limited with his discipline focused mainly on boxing. Although it's great to specialize in a specific discipline, it'll only get him so far and that won't be to the top of his game.

It took me three years under Billy's guidance until he let me fight. He wanted me to learn all the disciplines in striking, takedowns, and submissions before he allowed me near the octagon.

I also checked out images of Fight or Flight, the Dean's family gym. It's a class away from the tired and dated building of Stallone's. It's clean, vibrant, and modern. I found several newspaper articles on Brent, Paisley's father, and his flourishing partnership with Jackson James, a few photographs of Eve, her mother - but not a lot on Paisley. I couldn't find any social media accounts for her, but I did find one photo on Twitter dated two years ago. It was taken at a Christmas function; she was arm in arm with a tattooed giant. The caption attached to it read Cinders will go the ball. Well done Seth.

Seth.

Fucking Seth.

Jace's authoritative voice captures my attention as he bellows the next command. I run to the salmon ladder, my palms grasping the metal bar before he can catch a breath to yell out at me. My knees pull up into my chest, my upper body strength taking the metal pole up to the rung above me repeatedly until I reach the top, then I reverse the technique back down the ladder.

"Dragon," Jace shouts.

I race back to the mat and drop to all fours, lowering my body within inches of the ground and moving quickly like a Komodo dragon.

"Fifteen reps of jumping jacks."

I backflip to my feet and start doing star jumps.

I haven't spoken one word or answered him back in the forty-five minutes I've been here. He's as surprised by my turn in attitude as I am. I know he's trying to see how far he can push me, just like Billy used to, and for the first time, I let him.

But I keep one visual in my mind's eye. Seth's smug grin as Paisley smiles up at him.

That is my motivation and strength to keep going. The only person I want her gazing at like that is me.

I don't allow Jace the room to shout out his next command in the circuit, I'm already on it. I break into ten reps of fast high knees followed by ten reps of plank jacks.

Jace crouches beside me and calls time. But I shake my head and continue.

"Enough," he yells.