I doubt Julian is particularly thrilled about a bunch of underground fighters at his gym, but I found out he made them swear off illegal fighting if they wanted to continue training here. Some of them agreed, ultimately deciding that training with an MMA legend would be far more valuable since it would increase their chances of going pro and ensure that they no longer had to rely on Point’s fights for cash and glory.
When Julian and I finally have time for a heart to heart, I open up to him about how I’m doing. He’s happy to hear I’ve been trying to patch things up with my family. I think he’s tired of being my pseudo-dad for the past few years now, which is completely fair, since I haven’t been the easiest to deal with. So I’m more than happy to relieve him of his duties.
“Speaking of duties . . .” he starts off, rising from his chair to unhook a set of keys from the back of the door. He looks at it for a moment, sighs, and chucks it to me. I catch the keys midair, and hiss out a shocked breath when I realize what this means.
“No. Fucking. Way,” I say in disbelief as I stare at the keys in my hands.
I feel like Indiana Jones when he found the Holy Grail.
With the orchestral music surging in my ears and heavenly light spilling down on me and everything.
“This does not mean that I’m letting you take over operations just yet, okay?” Julian says sharply. “I’m just going on vacation to the West Coast for a couple of weeks to visit some friends and family, and I’d like you to run the gym while I’m gone. You think you can handle that?”
“Is that even a question?” I scoff, closing my hand over the keys. “Fuck yes, I can handle that.”
“Don’t make me regret this.” He glares at me with seriousness. “I’m warning you, if you do anything to fuck this up—”
“You’ll hunt me down with a machete? Got it.”
I feel compelled to hug him for giving me this opportunity to prove my worth, but then again, Julian isn’t the kind who enjoys any kind of physical affection, so I settle for blowing a kiss at him instead.
“Also, before you go,” he adds, albeit a little hesitantly.
“I know you said you’d never want to compete but if you ever change your mind . . .” He snatches a flyer from his desk and hands it to me. “Tryouts for the next season are in five months. And I think you have a fighting chance, Sienna.”
My eyes scroll over its contents. It’s all the details I would need if I was interested in fighting for the all-women promotion. I bite my lip in contemplation. A few months ago, if Julian had asked me to fight, I would have turned him down. I loved helping others with their fight, but I think along the way, I started to neglect my own.
Now, for the first time, I have no one else to focus my energy on but myself.
I lift my gaze to meet Julian’s. “I’ll think about it.”
A grin spreads across his face.
“All right, I’m going to squeeze in a workout before I close up,” I announce, grabbing the keys and the flyer on one hand and gripping the door to his office with the other.
“Sure,” he says. “And Sienna?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m proud of you. You’ve come a long way.”
Well, if I hadn’t been feeling teary eyed over him giving me the keys, I’m definitely feeling it now. Tears threaten to flow over the rims of my eyes but I force them back because I don’t want him to think I’m an emotional mess.
“Thanks,” I blurt out, rushing out of his office.
I’m not usually the kind of person who will get choked up over something this small. It’s probably the therapy that’s taking its toll on me.
Crying is a healthy outlet. And a healthy outlet is a healthymind.
Goddamn you, Dr. Rosenthal.
I do my usual warm-up, starting with a few rounds of light jogging around the space and ending with some lunges.
Then I climb into the boxing ring. Covering my hands with my wraps, I begin with mix of jabs, crosses, hooks, and uppercuts together, switching up the pattern every couple of rounds of shadowboxing, while staying light on my feet by pivoting and moving side to side with nonstop motion. It’s a killer cardio workout, something that I desperately need since my postbreakup diet hasn’t been the healthiest. By the time I’m ten minutes in, my heartbeat is skittering so fast I can hear the blood pounding in my ears like a loud bass drum.
I love the feeling of climbing up the mountain of momentum, wanting to live on top of that summit forever.
I used to think this was the only way I could deal with whatever was happening to me. I’d stick to the adrenaline hunt and immerse myself in it until I became numb.