Chapter 4
Jack stood outside the gym, his breath fogging in the cool evening air. His mind was still spinning from the conversation he had with Marcus. Part of him wanted to walk away and never come back. He had already lost Ethan, and he couldn't stand the thought of getting too close to this world again. But another part of him—a deeper, more primal part—was urging him to stay. To fight.
The door to the gym swung open, and Jack's heart skipped as a figure stepped out. It was a woman, her presence commanding even in the dim light of the streetlamps. She moved with the fluidity and confidence of someone who had spent years honing her body to perfection. Her short, athletic frame was clad in a black hoodie and workout leggings, and her piercing eyes seemed to take in everything around her with a quiet intensity. She paused when she saw Jack standing alone, lost in thought.
"You look like you're fighting a war in your head," she said, her voice calm yet direct.
Jack blinked, surprised by her words. "Yeah… you could say that."
She tilted her head slightly, studying him. "You were at the funeral, right? You're Ethan's brother."
Jack nodded, the mention of Ethan's name still sending a fresh wave of pain through him. "Yeah. I'm Jack."
"I'm Lena," she said, stepping closer and offering her hand. "I used to train here. Knew Ethan pretty well."
Jack shook her hand, feeling a firm, steady grip. "You fight?"
"I used to," Lena replied, her gaze not leaving his face. "Professional MMA. I was a coach too, but I stepped away from it all a while back."
Jack wasn't sure what to say. Everyone who had known Ethan seemed to carry their own grief, their own frustrations about what had happened. He could see it in Lena's eyes—a quiet understanding, like she knew exactly what he was going through.
"I'm sorry about your brother," Lena said after a moment. "He was a good fighter. Strong, smart, but more than that—he had heart."
Jack swallowed hard, his throat tight. "Thanks. I… I don't know how to deal with it. I feel like I should've done something. Like I should've stopped him from getting in that ring."
Lena shook her head. "You can't think like that. Ethan made his choices. He knew the risks, just like all of us do when we step into that cage."
"I know," Jack muttered, though the guilt still clung to him like a heavy weight. "But it doesn't feel right. Rico… he got away with it. It wasn't just an accident, Lena. That elbow… it was illegal."
Lena's eyes hardened at the mention of Rico's name. "I know. Everyone here knows it too. But the officials made their decision. You can't change that."
Jack clenched his fists, frustration surging through him again. "So what am I supposed to do? Just accept it? Let him get away with killing my brother?"
Lena was silent for a moment, her gaze steady. "No one's asking you to accept it. But you have to think about what you're doing to yourself, Jack. You're carrying all this anger, and it's going to eat you alive if you don't find a way to deal with it."
Jack shook his head, the frustration boiling over. "I can't just sit here and do nothing."
"I'm not saying you should," Lena said, her tone calm but firm. "But you need to ask yourself if revenge is really going to give you what you're looking for."
Jack opened his mouth to argue, but stopped short. Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, he was forced to confront the truth he had been avoiding. Would revenge—confronting Rico, even fighting him—actually bring him peace? Or would it just deepen the hole he was already sinking into?
"I don't know what else to do," Jack admitted, his voice softer now, filled with uncertainty. "I keep thinking about fighting him. About getting back in the cage. But part of me knows it won't change anything."
Lena nodded, her expression thoughtful. "You're right. It won't bring Ethan back. And it won't give you the peace you're looking for." She paused, her eyes locked on his. "But what if you fought for a different reason? What if you trained, not for revenge, but to heal? To find your own path, your own strength?"
Jack frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"
Lena stepped closer, her voice lowering slightly. "You've got all this anger, Jack. All this pain. And if you don't find a way to channel it, it's going to destroy you. But training… getting in that ring, pushing yourself physically and mentally—it could be your way out. Your way to heal. You don't have to fight Rico, or anyone else, out of hate. You can fight for yourself. For Ethan's memory."
Jack stared at her, the weight of her words sinking in. He had been so consumed by his desire for revenge that he hadn't considered any other way. The idea of training, of stepping into the cage not to fight Rico, but to find some sort of peace, was a foreign concept. But as he stood there, he couldn't deny the flicker of interest it stirred within him.
"I don't know if I'm cut out for that," Jack said, shaking his head. "I've never been a fighter. That was Ethan's thing."
Lena smiled slightly. "You'd be surprised what you're capable of when you're pushed to your limits. Fighting isn't just about being the strongest or the fastest. It's about resilience, about finding out who you are when everything's on the line."
Jack looked down, his mind racing. The anger, the grief—it had been building up inside him for days, and he had no idea how to release it. Maybe Lena was right. Maybe stepping into the cage, training, could give him an outlet. A way to confront his emotions head-on.
"What if I fail?" Jack asked quietly. "What if I can't handle it?"
Lena's eyes softened. "It's not about whether you win or lose, Jack. It's about the fight itself. It's about taking control of your life again. If you keep running from this, it's only going to get worse. But if you face it… you might just find the peace you're looking for."
Jack swallowed hard, his thoughts swirling. He had spent so much time focused on the idea of revenge, of making Rico pay, that he hadn't stopped to think about what it was doing to him. Maybe training wouldn't fix everything. Maybe it wouldn't bring Ethan back, or erase the pain. But it was something. It was a way to fight back against the helplessness that had been choking him since Ethan's death.
"Okay," Jack said finally, his voice quiet but resolute. "I'll do it. I'll train."
Lena smiled, her expression one of approval and understanding. "Good. We'll start tomorrow."
Jack felt a strange sense of relief wash over him. It wasn't a solution to everything, but it was a step. A step toward healing, toward confronting the storm of emotions inside him. And for the first time since Ethan's death, Jack felt like he had a direction. A purpose.
As he left the gym that night, his mind was still filled with grief and anger, but there was something new as well—a glimmer of hope. The road ahead would be long and difficult, but Jack was ready to take the plunge. Ready to fight, not out of hate, but to find peace.