"You ready for this?"

I shake out my hands as if my nerves will magically shoot out of my fingers and nod. A large breath leaves me as I bounce on the heels of my feet and I watch my opponent from across the ring. Today is important for a number of reasons. Not only am I facing Jaxon's long-time rival Ridge Sanders, but what I have planned after the match is something to be equally nervous about and I hope I don't become distracted while I fight.

"I'm ready." I answer Asher who grins and claps my shoulder.

"I know you are, brother."

I turn my head and look down at Jaxon who's standing by the ring and watching Sanders with narrowed eyes.

"You gonna lose your shit?" I call out to him. "The last time you faced him and won the seven million, you beat him so bad he was hospitalized for a month. Sorry to say it but you went too far, man."

"I know." He calls back reluctantly. "I was having a bad day."

I snort. That's an understatement. Emily being kidnapped was more than just a bad day for him. I've never seen him lose his mind like that when he turned into a scary motherfucker that had all of us shitting our pants.

"You should talk to him and find solid ground. He's a decent man now."

Jaxon jerks his head in a grudging nod. He knows just as well as I do how much Sanders has changed for the better in the past three years. Not only has he made his way to the top of the boxing industry and has become a beast of the sport, but he's well known for donating large amounts of the money he earns towards research for Down Syndrome after he had a daughter who was born with the condition. I look back over to him now as he leans over the ropes and talks animatedly at a phone screen that one of his buddies holds up for him. I squint and realize he's talking to his wife and daughter now, blowing a kiss at the screen and grinning wide.

"That's so fucking precious." Cameron sniffs.

I sigh deeply, pinching the bridge of my nose as he discreetly wipes the corners of his eyes.

"I swear you're on your period." Asher grumbles, eyeing him warily like he's contagious.

"Hey, man." Cam stands tall. "Fuck you. You know I'm sensitive."

"We don't have time for that." Coach enters the ring and uses his hand to shove Cameron's face away. I cough into my fist as Cameron's jaw drops and he gapes at Coach who blatantly ignores him.

"Head in the game?" Coach asks and I nod my confirmation. "Remember the strategies we went over and the plays we reviewed. You've been training for this match for two months and I've taught you a lot of new material in that time. It's still fresh so it won't come to you naturally as muscle memory like your other techniques so don't be discouraged if you falter or can't think of a next move. If you need a minute, step back and circle him like you're planning something and use that to stall while you figure it out."

"Got it." I blow out a breath. "I feel ready."

"Good because you are." He pats my back twice, hard. "Kick some ass, boy."

"You got it."

The guys step out of the ring and I make my way to the centre of the ring. Sanders joins me a moment later and holds his fist up. I bump it and we exchange respectful nods.

"How you been?" He asks.

"Can't complain." I shrug. "You?"

"Better than ever." His smile is wistful. It disappears a moment later when he flicks his eyes over my shoulder before meeting mine again. "I know I have no right to ask this but...can you ask Cage if I can speak with him after the match? I want to personally apologize to Emily for what happened. I feel responsible for not catching on to the fact that Tara was a fucking psycho and ignored her shady-ness. If I had said something earlier maybe that fucker wouldn't have kidnapped her. I just want her to know how much I regret my actions."

"That's awesome, man." I tell him sincerely. I'm honestly impressed with what a different man he is compared to three years ago. "I'm sure Jaxon will be okay with that. We were just talking about how you should talk and find some solid ground. The past is the past, you know? He also owes you an apology for how far he went when you two last fought."

Sanders winces, probably remembering the brutal way he was beaten up. "I understand. I guess I deserved it at the time and that month in the hospital was an eye-opener for me so it wasn't all that bad. The past is past."

"Good to hear it. It'll be an honour fighting you today, man."

"I could say the same. Good luck, Hunter."

The ref steps between us and we tip our chins at him to let him know we're ready. A second later he blows the whistle and round one begins.

***

Eight rounds later I'm a fucking mess. I knew Sanders improved as a fighter but I didn't realize just how much. Both of us want this badly because this match will deem who moves on to this year's UFC finals and we're giving it all we got. I'm in pretty bad shape but Sanders isn't exactly doing so hot either.

I eye him warily from my side of the ring while the guys clean me up. Cameron wipes down my forehead while Asher bandages up my eyebrow since it won't stop bleeding. Jaxon and Wolfe are replacing the wraps on my hand and Coach is giving instructions rapidly. We're all on edge as we near the last round.

"Right now it's about holding up your own." Coach says and I nod my understanding. "If you keep pushing yourself at the rate you are, you'll either collapse or become more susceptible to a knockout. The next two rounds are about staying upright and earning as many points as possible. You can try to win this by KO but it doesn't seem likely. Normally I'd ask you to take a risk but this match is about moving forward for qualification so I want you to play it safe."

"But I can try—"

"Trust me on this one, Hunter. Play. It. Safe."

I blow out a breath. If Coach didn't think I had a shot playing a risk, then I won't play it.

"Alright." I agree.

"You got this, son. Keep your offence strong and your defence stronger."

I nod again just as they all back up and step out of the ring. Sanders and I make our way to the middle for face off, eyeing each other warily.

"Whatever happens, this was a good fight. Glad we did this." He tips his chin at me.

"Looking forward to another." I smirk and he laughs his agreement.

The ref blows the whistle to signal the start of the last round and then it's on.

I waste no time striking first and catching Sanders' chin in a right hook. I follow it up with a straight punch to his nose and when he stumbles back, I strike his gut. He folds over and I bring my fist down on his temple and send him down on all fours as he pulls in a loud breath. My own breath stutters from the rush of energy I put into my combination of punches and I back up to regain my strength while Sanders does the same.

"Good! Balance it out!" Coach instructs from the side and I nod.

Sanders straightens up and heads toward me in a quick run, his fist flying in a right hook. I step to the left and realize too late that he fakes it and my gut meets his left straight painfully. I groan when he strikes my cheek next and gasp for air when his glove lands directly on my adam's apple.

I hold my forearms up, knuckles up and elbows down, to create a boundary when Sanders starts pummelling his fists rapidly.

"Damn it." I growl under my breath when I'm pushed so far back that I'm against the ropes. Sanders doesn't slow down in the least and I'm literally backed into a corner. The only way out is to move forward.

"I don't think so, man." I say out-of-breath before ducking my body low so that his next swing meets air. My right fist shoots a straight punch to his ribs and I straighten up just as my left fist executes another uppercut that has him reeling back. I move in on him with a punch to his jaw and another down on his temple and end my attack by burying my glove deep in his gut and causing him to cry out. When he goes down, I punch his jaw twice more and then his nose for good measure. He makes a sound of distress as he turns his face away to shield it, scrambling backwards on his hand.

When I pull in my next breath, it's nothing more than a wheeze. I feel the room briefly spin and blink fast to clear my suddenly blurry vision. Shouts are directed at me but they're nothing more than murmurs, as if I'm underwater, and I can understand them past the pounding in my ears. I try to inhale again but my breath stutters some more, my chest constricting painfully before I can fully draw in some more oxygen. I cough out violently against the inner crook of my elbow and back up until my back meets the rope and sink to my ass. I sit back against the ring for support just trying to stay awake against my urge to pass out.

"...on!" I think I hear. I strain my ears as best as I can to make out what the voice is yelling.

"Hold on! There's one minute left in the round! Nate!"

My head lolls back and I jerk it back up, blinking faster now. I try and breathe through my nose instead of my mouth but that just sends me into another coughing fit and I have to sling my arm behind me over the ropes to keep myself upright. I swipe the side of my face against my shoulder when I feel a tickling sensation and pull away to a streak of red on my skin. I can't exactly tell where I'm bleeding from but I can tell it's not stopping.

"Fuck." My arm grips the rope tighten when I watch Sanders slowly stumble to his feet and his fists lazily come up in fighting stance. "No, no, no. I can't fight anymore."

But I have no choice. I push all my weight from underneath me and barely manage to stand up, tripping over my feet and falling back against the ring before regaining my footing. My own arms come up in defence and that action alone causes my muscles to scream in protest. How the fuck am I supposed to fight like this?

Sanders draws nearer and he looks just as worn out as I do. A thick streak of blood trails down from his nose and he sniffs hard, jerking his head tightly and sending the blood flying.

He screams and charges toward me, fists at the ready. I rear my arm back like I'm retaliating only to turn my body away when he's close enough and he crashes into the ropes instead. With his back to me, I use that opportunity to put all my force into one final punch. My arm swings out and my glove lands on his ear in a left hook. I cry out when I feel a cramp in my bicep and know that there's no way I can throw another punch after this. Sanders falls down again, rolling onto his back and revealing his constricted face. His features are tight and when he groans low in his throat, I know he's done for. I fall to my knees, my breath choppy and short at best, and my eyes desperately seek out Coach. When I finally find him through my blurry vision, he's holding ten fingers up. Then nine. Then eight.

Then I realize he's counting down the seconds until the match is over and I scramble back when I notice Sanders trying to get up again. I make it all the way to the other side of the ring and Sanders looks around in confusion, eyes focusing when he notices me. He pushes himself back up in determination but it's wasted effort when the whistle sounds a moment later.

Game over.

"Jesus." I whisper in relief, my head falling back. The headlights above me blur out so they look like large circles instead of focused ones. The sound around me are back to nothing more than a murmur of overlapping voices and it hurts my head. I close my eyes to stop the spinning but it doesn't do much. It still feels like everything is moving round and round.

"Nate! Stick with me." There's a sharp pain on my cheek and I wince, cracking one eye open to find a fuzzes out figure in front of me. I squint hard and the figure comes into focus.

"Hey, dickhead." I rasp to Asher, rubbing the cheek he just slapped.

He laughs and it sounds like relief. "Good fight, shitface."

I start to smile but stop when I feel a sting on my lip and realize it's split. "I guess we'll see if the judges feel the same way."

"They're counting the scores now but you got to be awake to hear them. Come on."

He places his forearms underneath my armpits and lifts me up. I stumble to my feet and sag against him when I realize my body feels like it weighs a ton. Damn, I got my ass kicked. I limp to the side of the ring that's closest to the judges table with his help and we watch closely.

"The scores are in!" The announcer speaks into the microphone and a collective hush falls over the arena. The air around us buzzes in anticipation and I feel my heart rate pick up as I watch him exchange a few words with the three judges. He nods and brings the mic back up to his mouth again.

"We have a winner by majority decision. Two judges deemed this man the winner while the third disagreed. Your winner of tonight's match and the fighter that will be moving on to the finals is..."

Sanders and I exchange a quick glance. He nods his head at me and I nod back, our silent version of wishing each other luck. I hold my breath and, like everyone else, wait.

"Nate Hunter!"

"Oh, Christ." I blow out a harsh breath as the area erupts into cheers, a symphony of voices chanting, "Hunter! Hunter! Hunter!"

"Holy fuck!" Asher shakes me hard when I feel myself nodding off again. "You're going to the fucking finals!"

"Holy fuck." I agree.

I half-heartedly lift an arm up in victory and the crowd's roar intensifies to a deafening volume. Every person in this arena is alive with adrenaline and I shake my head. This part of fighting never gets old. My skin breaks out into goosebumps when the crowd continues to go wild with their cheers and chanting.

"This is the fucking dream." Asher mumbles and watches the crowd with wide eyes.

"Not bad for the ten-year-old dweebs that used to fight in the backyard, huh?" I nudge him with my elbow.

His lips twitch. "Not bad at all, brother."

"You beast!" Cameron crashes into me and I groan when my side tingles in pain all over again.

"Watch it, man." I scold but it's with a laugh.

"One hell of a match." Jaxon ruffles my hair roughly. "You put up an unforgettable fight."

"That was some good offence, son." Coach steps into my line of vision and holds his hand out. I shake it back, grinning at him. "Didn't think you'd be able to pull off that many punches but you gave 'em hell."

"Thanks, Coach." I tell him.

Wolfe holds his hand out to me and I shake his, too. He lets go with a hint of a smile and it looks like he's impressed.

"Woah there, Mr. Personality." Cameron slings an arm around his shoulders. "Better be careful. You almost smiled."

He nudges his elbow into Cameron's ribs with an unamused snort.

"Good fight, Hunter."

We all turn around when we hear Sanders. Jax visibly stiffens beside me and he eyes Sanders as he limps over to us. He pulls in a breath like he's calming himself, his fingers curling and uncurling.

"Cool it." Cam instructs quietly. "Whatever happened wasn't his fault and you know that now. You know better so be better."

"I know." Jax nods his head jerkily, forcing his shoulders down.

"It was a close match and one for the books. You put up a good fight." Sanders shakes my hand. He looks put out over losing but his smile is genuine.

"Thank you, man. My win was by a hair. You kicked my ass something fierce." I groan just thinking about all the injuries I'm sustaining right now. "To tell you the truth I'm still fighting the urge to pass out."

"To tell you the truth that makes me happy." He throws back good-naturedly and I laugh. The mood grows solemn again when he tentatively shifts his gaze to Jax. There's a flash of something in his eyes, maybe anger, but he visibly pushes it away. I guess I can't really blame the guy after Jaxon literally beat him an inch to his life.

"Hey." He jerks his chin. "Good to see you."

"You too." A muscle twitches in Jaxon's jaw before he speaks again. "How you been?"

"Alive." He remarks dryly and the guys and I wince at the jab. "And well."

"That's good." Jax takes another deep breath. "Heard you got a daughter now."

"McKenzie. Heard you got a son."

"Lucas."

"Lucas?" Sanders draws his brows together. "Isn't that...wasn't he the guy that fucker Tim murdered?"

"Yup." Jax says through clenched teeth. Cam grips his shoulder tightly — in warning or in support, I'm not sure. "He was my buddy. Figured this was one way to honour him."

"A damn good way." Sanders agrees. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thanks." Jax bites out. Cam nudges him again and Jaxon glares back. He looks down at his feet and mutters the words so quietly it's hard to hear. "And I'm...I'm sorry for that match. That day. I took all my anger out on you. I took it too far."

"Appreciate it." Sanders briefly slips a hand over his mouth and I'd bet it was to hide a smile. "Can I maybe talk to Emily?"

"Why?" Jaxon immediately demands, straightening up and narrowing his eyes at the mention of his wife. Behind him, Coach crosses his arms and glares at Sanders like he's trying to melt him on the spot.

"Woah." He holds his hands up and even takes a step back. "It's your call. I'm not trying to force anything here. I just want to apologize to her for what happened. I get your reluctance, okay? I have a wife now too, Cage. And I have a daughter now too, Greg. If it was either of them I would have reacted worse than either of you so I get it. It's your call."

"No. It's my call."

"Babe." Jaxon warns when Emily steps over to us with Lucas perched on her hip. She looks nervous as she gets closer until she's standing beside Jaxon. She holds onto his hand tightly and levels Sanders with an unwavering stare.

"Go ahead, Ridge."

"Hey, Emily." He says so softly it's almost a whisper. "That's a beautiful boy you got there."

"Thank you." Emily whispers back and already there are tears gathering in her eyes. It doesn't take much to figure out she's probably thinking about her kidnapping years ago. I'm sure the trauma is something that never really goes away no matter how much time passes.

"You don't have to do this." Jaxon tells her quietly.

"I know." She nods, wiping her cheek. "But I need this."

Jaxon sighs and tightens his hold on her. He nods at Sanders to keep going.

"I wish I had words that were magical enough to take back everything that happened to you. It sucks that you experienced something like that when you didn't deserve it. I wish I'd been smarter about my actions and taken Tara's threats more seriously. I wish I'd warned you about Tim being in contact with her. There's so many things I wish I had done differently to save you from going through what you did. Who I used to be then is someone I wish I could forget but I understand that I'll probably spend the rest of my life paying the consequences. I deserve that."

He looks down at his hands while we wait silently for him to continue. Jax and Em exchange a look.