Chapter Eleven

LIAM

I stepped into the arena of the Sunridge Civic Center. I felt like a little kid in a grown man’s body. My excitement and urge to compete in the Heartland Fight Fest thumped like a second heartbeat in my chest. The air was thick with the roar of the crowd. Lights blazed from overhead, coating the space in gold, red, and electric blue. Each one reflected off the fighters that moved around the ring.

"O'Connor!"

The call snapped me back to the moment, and I turned to see a security guard motioning me through.

Once cleared by security, the roar of the arena dulled as I entered the locker room.

"Looking sharp, man." Ryder clapped me on the shoulder. His presence was a rock, solid and steady.

"Give 'em hell, Liam," Cody Stone added, his own face stern with the fire of competition. I wondered if he would ever get back into competing after this tournament.

"Thanks, guys," I replied, nodding at the two fighters from Fury Combat who stood before me. They were more than just names on a fight card. They were the ones who'd been in the trenches with me, sparring and swapping strategies.

They stuck by me last year when I acted immature on my first days in the pro league. These men had seen me at my lowest and helped build me back up. True friends. Not like Jack.

With them, I learned the true meaning of brotherhood.

With Sophie, I learned the true meaning of love.

I pulled on my gloves, feeling the familiar wrap of tape and leather against my skin. Today I wasn’t just fighting for myself. I was fighting for all of us.

"Phoenix," Cody called me by my ring name. The mere mention of it made my spine straighten. That's what I'd become. Out of the ashes of a life I nearly burned down around me, I rose, ready to claim a future I never thought I'd see.

"Time to get out there," Ryder's voice cut through any lingering doubts. My team busied around me, taping, prepping, ensuring I was ready to step into the ring.

"Ready." I slipped my mouthguard into place. With each step towards the octagon, I felt promise and possibility. This was my moment, and I was ready to blaze through it.

THE CANVAS OF THE RING was slick with sweat, but I found my footing like I'd done a thousand times before. Each opponent brought a different style. There was a brawler who thought brute force would break me. Then I continued on to fight a tactician with feints and jabs that sang past my ears. The third match set me up to battle a powerhouse whose every punch was like getting hit with a sledgehammer. I danced around them all, delivering calculated strikes.

"Phoenix! Phoenix!" The crowd cheered with each takedown.

The thrill of combat raced through my veins. With each bout, I advanced through the brackets, feeling more alive with each win.

But in the moments between bouts, my thoughts drifted to Sophie. I scanned the sea of faces, seeking her brown eyes and reassuring smile, but there was no sign of her. A knot tightened in my stomach. Maybe the stress of this morning got to her.

I clenched my jaw, wishing I could reach out to her.

The final bracket loomed like a mountain before me, each opponent another crag to climb. I was close now. The next fighter was someone I knew from my days in the Carnage underground league.

Aiden Black sneered at me from across the mat. I flexed my wrists as I waited for the ref to start the match. Then I felt an unwelcome twinge in my wrist.

Shit. Not the injury acting up. Not now when I so close to the end.

"Ready to eat canvas, O'Connor?" Aiden taunted, bouncing in place as he waited to fight.

"Not until you taste it first," I shot back, testing my wrist discreetly.

The ref signaled for the match to begin. We clashed, two heavyweights trading elbows and punches. Every strike, every block, sent jolts of pain up my arm. When the bell rang, declaring Aiden the winner of the first round, I stumbled back.

"Looks like the phoenix can't always rise, eh?" Aiden gloated, his chuckle grating on my nerves.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," I growled. "This isn't over."

He laughed. "You just make sure to shine that second-place trophy real nice."

I turned away. There was still a slim chance to win, and I wasn't about to let the ache in my wrist decide the outcome.

Collapsing onto a stool on my side of the ring, the world narrowed to the immediate present. My cutman’s hands were a blur, working quickly to clean the scratches on my face. Another team member hovered close by me, a white towel draped over his arm. I took it and dabbed at the sweat that dripped into my eyes.

A water bottle found its way to my lips, and I drank greedily.

"Your wrist is swelling," the cutman observed.

"Just tape it tighter. I can manage," I spoke with confidence, though doubt whispered in the background in my head.

“Liam.”

Sophie burst through the chaos of the crowd. She was flanked by security who helped her get close to the ring. Her brown hair escaped the pretty style she put it in. Her breath came in short gasps as if she'd run the entire way here.

"I wasn’t sure if you’d show," I admitted, watching as she smoothed down strips of tape around my wrist with practiced ease.

"Try keeping me away," she replied, her focus never wavering. Her hands were gentle, the touch sending a different kind of warmth through me.

"Thanks," I said, flexing my taped wrist and feeling the support it offered.

Sophie checked my other wrist. I couldn't help but let my eyes wander over her.

"Looking good in that dress," I observed. "But you're missing the sweat stains to really fit in."

She chuckled. "I’ll pass on that accessory, thanks." Her focus returned to my glove, lacing it up tight.

"I'm glad you came," I said, meaning every word.

She her brown eyes held mine. "I'm late, but I wouldn't miss it." She finished her work.

The air horn blared. Time to get back into the fight.

My friends from Fury Combat stood on their feet. Among the faces, Sophie’s stood out.

The match against Aiden resumed in a blur of fists and strategy. I ducked, wove, landed hits where they counted. Victory was close. Several minutes later, I did it. I made a solid connection, a kick to the chest.

Aiden hit the mat. The ref stepped in, waving his arms. It was official. I had won.

I turned to my corner, to Fury Combat, to Sophie. Her eyes shone with pride.

"Phoenix rises!" the announcer bellowed as I raised my fists to the sky. This win wasn't just for me. It was for us, for the future. For the chance at the Intercontinental Battle Royale in Chicago, and beyond that, for whatever came next.

Sophie’s face broke into a wide smile. She lifted the rope and rushed towards me. Her arms wrapped around me. "You did it, Liam.” Her voice filled with both awe and relief.

"I couldn't have without you." I squeezed her tight.

Her presence grounded me while cameras flashed and reporters shouted questions. Words tumbled from my lips as I spoke to them, but I just wanted to be alone with Sophie.

When we finally slipped away, the buzz of the crowd still sounded through the walls of the private room. Sophie eyed me, worry now filling in her delicate features. "You need rest, Liam. A lot happened today." Her gaze dropped from my wrist to my ankle. "And stay off this."

I knew better than to disagree at this point. "Rest sounds perfect. On one condition. You join me. Off your feet, too."

Sophie’s hands planted on her hips as she pretended to be annoyed. "This time, you're following my exact instructions."

"Yes, ma'am."

Her lips parted in a grin. “Stop calling me ma’am, or I'll make you pay for it."

"Promise?”

She stepped closer. I leaned down, capturing her lips with mine. Pulling back, I gazed into her eyes, my heart racing for reasons beyond all the matches I was in tonight. "We've got a lot ahead of us, Soph."

"Good thing I'm not afraid of a little challenge," she whispered back, her hand finding mine, strong and sure.

The roar of the crowd might still echo in the air, but all I could hear was the steady rhythm of two hearts ready to face whatever came next.