---
Chapter 10: The Price of Survival
Lex Navarro staggered through the streets of Colima, his bloodied hands tucked into his jacket pockets. The dim streetlights painted his bruised face in flickering gold, highlighting the swelling along his jaw and the cuts across his brow. The envelope of cash in his pocket felt heavier than it should have, each peso a reminder of what he had done to earn it.
He had won the tournament. He had killed for the tournament. And now he was going home.
---
When Lex pushed open the creaky door to their small house, the familiar scent of cleaning chemicals and tortillas hit him. Rosa was in the kitchen, her back to him as she scrubbed a pot. She turned at the sound of his footsteps, her tired eyes widening when she saw his face.
"¡Dios mío, Alejandro!" she cried, rushing to him. "What happened to you?"
Lex winced as her fingers brushed against his swollen cheek. "I got into a fight," he said, the lie slipping easily from his lips.
Rosa frowned, her hands on her hips. "Another fight? You're going to get yourself killed one of these days!"
Lex stepped past her, pulling the envelope of cash from his pocket. He set it on the table, the edges stained with dried blood. "This is for you," he said, his voice low.
Rosa stared at the envelope as if it might bite her. "Where did you get that?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"I've been working," Lex said simply. "Doing what I have to do to help."
Rosa's expression darkened. "This isn't right, Alejandro. Money like this doesn't come from honest work."
Lex's jaw tightened. "And what's honest work gotten us, mamá? You're killing yourself for pesos while Sofia goes to bed hungry half the time. This money can fix that."
Rosa looked away, her hands trembling. "I don't want blood money in this house," she whispered.
"It's not blood money," Lex lied. He stepped closer, his tone softening. "It's just money, mamá. Money to buy food, medicine, clothes for Sofia. Don't ask where it came from. Just use it to make our lives better."
Rosa's shoulders slumped, and she sank into a chair. She looked at the envelope again, her conflict clear. Finally, she reached for it, her fingers hesitant.
"You promise me," she said, her voice barely audible. "You promise me you'll be careful."
Lex nodded. "I promise."
---
Once Rosa went to bed, Lex sat in the bathroom, examining himself in the cracked mirror. The fluorescent bulb overhead flickered, casting uneven light across his battered face. His left eye was swollen shut, his ribs throbbed with every breath, and his knuckles were raw and split.
He grimaced as he peeled off his bloodstained shirt, revealing a patchwork of bruises spreading across his torso. Gritting his teeth, he pressed his fingers against his ribs, wincing at the sharp pain.
"Fractured, maybe," he muttered to himself. "Not broken."
Lex had learned basic first aid from Tomas during training—an essential skill for fighters. He rummaged through the cabinet, pulling out rubbing alcohol, bandages, and a roll of tape.
First, he cleaned his knuckles, pouring alcohol over the cuts. The sting was sharp and immediate, but he didn't flinch. He wrapped each hand tightly in gauze, making sure the bandages were secure.
Next, he turned his attention to his ribs. He pressed an ice pack against the worst of the swelling, gritting his teeth as the cold bit into his skin. After a few minutes, he used the roll of tape to bind his chest, securing his ribs to limit movement.
The cut above his brow was shallow but bled more than he expected. He cleaned it carefully, using a butterfly bandage to close the edges. Finally, he washed the blood from his face, watching the water run red into the sink.
When he was finished, he leaned against the counter, his breath shallow but steady. The reflection staring back at him was unrecognizable—not because of the injuries, but because of the eyes. They were hard, emotionless, the eyes of someone who had crossed a line and wasn't looking back.
---
The Next Morning
Lex woke to the sound of Sofia laughing in the kitchen. The smell of eggs and chorizo wafted through the house—a rare treat they couldn't afford before. When he stepped into the kitchen, Sofia ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist.
"Lex! Look what mamá made!" she said, her voice full of excitement.
Rosa glanced at him over her shoulder, her expression a mix of gratitude and resignation. "She doesn't need to know," she said quietly.
Lex nodded. "She won't."
As they sat down to eat, Lex couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. But it was fleeting, drowned out by the satisfaction of seeing his family happy, even if just for a moment.
---