“Son. You can’t.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’ve been off for months now, and tonight you’re just proving it again. We both agreed stepping away was the right thing to do, and now you’ve... changed your mind? You think you can just pick and choose your title shots? That they come around every few months if you just wait long enough? This was our life’s work, Owen. Everything we had ever done was leading up to this. You knew that, and you walked away. I have spent years protecting you from those that wanted you out, that wanted to bury you. They never succeeded. And although I will always want that belt in some form, as I never got it in my time, I am so glad those arseholes never got their wish to bring you down. I have done the best I could to keep you winning and to keep you safe. Undefeated in a career is rarer than hen’s teeth. Be proud of that, Owen, and forget the rest.”
“Bullshit. I’m not going to forget the rest. I’m not going to sit here and say I’m sorry for the choice I made. I felt it was the right thing to do, and I would make it again. But it’s difficult, not impossible, to have both. Her and the title. I thought it was selfish to want it all when she needed me more. I was thinking about her more than my own goals. But she, again, proved how amazing she is. She wants me to pursue my goals. She knows how important they are to me. I wouldn’t think less of her if she wanted me to quit. I would do it... You know I would. I did. But she made me realise I can help more by doing what makes me happy. By inspiring her, the way she inspires me.”
“Owen... it sounds very sweet but...”
“But what? I don’t understand where this is coming from?”
“Because you can’t beat him!” Robert burst out. Owen was stunned at the words and the volume. “Here you are, talking of romantic fairy tales and happily ever afters when, even IF you’re allowed to challenge for the belt again, a wrecking ball is waiting for you. He doesn’t want to beat you. He wants to humiliate you. Stomp a mudhole in your head and walk it dry. The best fighter in the world wants to prove you are nothing more than a joke. He has a personal vendetta against you, and he’s backed by the very people we’ve been avoiding from day one. And what are you going into battle with? Thoughts and prayers? Good tidings? Good luck kisses? I cannot make this any clearer. You weren’t ready for Williams, and you’re not ready for Diaz. If you fight him,you will die.”
“After all these years, everything we have been through, you do this now? Now is the time you lose faith in me?”
“It has nothing to do with faith. It’s common fucking sense. Clear as day.”
“You don’t think I can beat him.”
“I know you can’t.”
“And that’s common sense?”
Owen felt the sharp sudden pain of a slap against his cheek.
The burning sting hadn’t even fully formed yet when Robert uttered, “No. That’s common sense. You didn’t even see that coming.”
And it was true. All his years of training, and Owen hadn’t even seen Robert shift position in any way. Had he wanted to, Robert could’ve easily broken Owen’s nose or fractured his jaw. All he would’ve had to do was use a fist. Instead, the only thing it hurt was Owen’s pride. Owen blinked away the makings of tears as the realisation came. No, as the fear came. What if his father was right? What if he didn’t have it anymore? What if all his talk of doing it for her was a mere fantasy? Robert was trying to make him see reality for what it was. What waited for him inside the Cage outweighed him, had more experience than him, and was far stronger.
“You wanted your happily ever after. Take it. Be with her. Spend as much time as you can with her. Help her get well. That’s where your head is at, Owen. So leave it there. Forget about the title. And, more importantly, forget about Brent Diaz.”
“No,” Owen replied, straightening himself. “I made a promise to myself ages ago and to her today. I need to know if I’m good enough. I have to try.”
Robert shook his head, and father and son locked eyes for several seconds. Owen didn’t flinch. “You’re not ready. If you insist on fighting, I'll train you, but I won't be at the fight."
"What?"
Robert pulled out his phone. "You're my son. You're a part of me. You're also your own man and can make your own choices. But I won't watch it. I can't force you to listen. But I won't willingly watch what is, in effect, assisted suicide."
“I guess I am alone after all, huh?” Owen turned on his heel and headed for the bedroom. “Make the call. We’ve got work to do,” he finished and closed the door on the one person in the world he thought he could count on. By the time he had changed into his running gear, he walked out to find Robert had just ended a call.
"Because you quit, his manager played dirty. In order to secure your fight, I had to make concessions. THEY now own every aspect of it. When, where, how much gate you take. Which is going to be fifty dollars if you win and five dollars if you lose. You have no allowance for training camps. You are not sponsored in any way. Basically, you aren't being treated as a professional fighter. Any flights are on your back. Hotel stays are on you. Insurance for the venue in case of death. And a legal waiver, too, in case of death... these were his exact, almost joyous, words on the phone. Are you getting the fucking picture yet? Transportation too. They will pay for nothing. You may have the funds now, but again, I URGE you to think about the future and your quality of life. It's up to you what you do from here."
Owen listened to the words, fury welling in him, bubbling away. So, he was being punished by Diaz’ manager. Fine. This was the price he had to pay for walking away and changing his mind. He wouldn’t know where he was fighting. Or when. If he was killed in the ring, he would have to make it almost impossible for Diaz to face the same repercussions he had in the past. By signing the contract, he was basically painting a huge target on his back, his front, and everywhere else. No one but the company, Diaz, Owen, Robert and the manager would know this fight would be a no holds barred street fight. The fans would have no idea. Anything goes... for Diaz only. The benefits of being champion. Owen had to play by the rules. But Diaz didn’t. Diaz wouldn’t have to sign anything. They were, theoretically, stripping Owen of his already slim chances. He wasn’t taking a knife to a gun fight; he was taking himself into a war with a tank where one shot could destroy him.
15
“It’s always the quiet one...”Fiona said with a look of both shock and awe. “You made out with him in mybathroom, really?”
“I dunno what came over me. I felt so sick yesterday. But I woke up and he... was just there. I was so happy. I feel better than I have for weeks. I don’t know how long it will last but I want to take advantage. Let’s go out today.”
“Go out?”
“Yeah, for a coffee or something. The three of us.”
“I’ve been dying to take you out for ages and you always say no. He comes back for one day, gives you an almost pickle tickle and it’s party time?” Fiona slumped forward, groaning.
Tegan didn’t know if she was really upset until Fiona sat up and pressed her fingers to her temples. “Seriously, that cock must have fairy dust in it. Just being in its presence is medicine. It’s majestic, isn’t it?” Fiona groaned again. “I’m single as fuck...”