Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight and all recognizable characters and situations contained therein. All original content contained in this story is property of the author. Story is rated M and may contain Graphic language, violent content, mild to moderate drug use, descriptions of domestic violence, and sexual situations.
A/N: this chapter and the next are going to be kind of Bella POV heavy.
**August 24th, the night before the rematch PPOV**
Another press conference, this time with a televised weigh in. I sit between my dad and Sam, and wait for Cullen and his camp to arrive. The reporters are outside, they won't be allowed in until both fighters are seated.
The last week and a half had crawled, despite filling my days with as much training as I possibly could, I hadn't been able to stop waiting for a call that never came. I had thought about calling her, but figured maybe the two who cut our first call short had said something to Cullen. She had stuttered, they could have guessed she wasn't really talking to her dad, and she had asked me specifically not to call again, so I had heeded her wishes.
The door opens, and my breath catches in my throat. Bella is with them this time, and she looks terrible. She's lost about 20 pounds that she couldn't afford to lose in the first place, and her skimpy clothes cling to her now bony frame. Her hair is done up nicely, but it's limp and lackluster from the poor nutrition.
Breaking my concentration, Dad whispers, "Holy shit…"
Sam breathes out, "I'll second that…"
Tearing my eyes away from Bella, I feel them bug out as they take in Cullen. He's fucking humongous! If they hadn't already done the blood tests I'd be up and accusing him of using PED's, but they have done the tests, and I know they all came back clean. Plus, I don't think even Cullen's rich daddy could get him around a sanctioned blood test.
He wasn't the only one who was bigger but his difference was a lot larger than mine, I had put on maybe 7 to 10 pounds of muscle. Cullen had put on 20 easily, probably more.
The doors open again and the press file in and take their seats. Dan Haden is once again our moderator, and he calls us up to the scales that they have set up facing each other.
Feeling dazed I get up, and walk over to the scales, we're both in just our ring trunks, and we step onto the scales at the same time. Our dads do the honors of adjusting the weights, just as I figured, I've put on about 6 lbs of muscle, weighing in at 291.
Cullen's dad fiddles with the weights, and I can tell it's at about 296, he's put on 26 pounds of muscle in the barely two months since the last fight… he's lucky he hasn't had a fucking heart attack, what is his father thinking?
We step down off the scales and make our way back to our seats. Cullen moves stiffly, slowly. Even at only 5 lbs less I maintain my speed and agility, that's what sprints do for me. My dad and his well rounded training plan.
The rest of the conference passes in a blur, even the media seems shell shocked by the gain on Cullen's side. Bella catches my eye, and I turn away, this is not the time to be caught staring at each other, even if I am only thinking about how worn down and terrible she looks. If it makes the papers or the television she'll be in big trouble.
Finally the reporters leave, Cullen and his camp get up and head out the door. Bella goes last, and I catch up to her by the door, "Bella."
She turns, fear in her eyes, as she whispers, "Not now! I'll call you."
I cut her off, "That's what you said the last time we talked. You didn't. Christ Bella, you look like shit. I'm telling you, walk out of here, get your stuff together, and get on a plane back to Washington. Go home to your dad."
Tears in her eyes, she turns, and hurries out the door before Cullen can realize she's not with them. Sam comes up and puts a hand on my shoulder, "Beat his ass tomorrow night Paul."
I nod in reply, "I'll do my best."
**Much later that same day still PPOV**
My phone rings as I lay in the hotel room, looking over I see it's Bella, and I answer, "Hello?"
Her voice sounds shaky, as she replies, "Hey. I'm sorry to call so late. I know you probably want to get a good nights sleep before tomorrow."
I reply, "It's fine, the fights not until like 11:30 at night anyway. Are you okay?"
She chuckles darkly, "I think I am. You're the one who thinks I look like shit."
I shrug, knowing she can't see it as I reply, "I call it like I see it."
She sighs, "I know, I've been trying to lose weight but it's just not working. I know I'm overweight."
Blinking in confusion, I ask, "Are you joking? Bella you're skin and bones. I don't think you have anything left to lose. You look like shit because you're like 4 lbs from looking like a walking skeleton. Who's the idiot that's been telling you that you're fat? The last fight you looked gorgeous, now you look like a good strong wind would knock you on your ass. You were perfect before."
She replies, "Look, this isn't why I called. Paul you need to call the fight off. Please."
Confused, I reply, "I can't. It's too late to back out now. I'd get all sorts of fines. Why do you want me to call it off?"
She takes a choked breath, "I'm afraid he's going to hurt you. Badly. I know you hurt him the last time. I know that you did what you had to, to win the fight, but Em isn't in his right mind. I think his dad has been giving him something."
I interject, "Bella we did blood tests, they came back clean. I appreciate your concern, but I'm not afraid of him. I've been training almost my whole life for this. I'm in the best shape of my life. That, plus the fact that I can still wipe my ass, and Cullen looks like he needs someone to do that for him makes me think that I'm going to be okay."
That draws a giggle from her, and she chastises, "Paul!"
Her laughter turns into a gasp of horror as I hear a woman's voice in the background, "Well, well, well. What do we have here? Paul? After all Em, and the Cullen's have done for you! You have the nerve to cheat on him with the enemy?"
Bella sounds horrified, "I didn't cheat on anyone! Paul is a friend of mine from back home. You can't tell Emmett, Rose. You can't!"
Speaking loudly, I tell her, "Bella, tell me where you are, and I'll come pick you up!"
She speaks into the phone, "No! I'm fine. Really."
She continues talking, but now she's more talking to whoever Rose is, "Emmett has been training for weeks. Rose knows how important this fight is to him. She knows how miserable he'll make the family if he loses because he's distracted about petty relationship drama. She doesn't want Edward to be unhappy. She'll keep her mouth shut at least until after the fight if she knows what's good for all of us."
I hear the other woman sigh, "You're right. Don't think that I won't remember this though. I guess Esme was wrong. You have been paying attention to the things she says."
Bella sighs, "She's gone. I have to go. I told Em I was going for a swim. You should get your rest. For what it's worth Paul, good luck tomorrow. I'm sorry to say that I hope you lose, but I just don't know what he'll do if he loses again. The first loss. It changed him. It changed my whole life."
Running my hands through my hair, I reply with a worried edge in my voice, "Bella, please. I'm begging you. Please, go to the airport, and go home to your dad. He misses you, and he's worried about you. I saw him at Leah's, I promised her I wouldn't tell you, but she's the one who gave me your number. Your dad gave it to her. Please Bell. Go home."
She sighs, "I wish I could. It's too late though. I took his ring. I made a commitment."
Cutting her off, I snap, "So the fuck what? People break engagements every day Bella! He isn't healthy for you! Maybe at one point he was good for you, but he's not anymore. Give him his ring back, and go home to your dad!"
She cuts me off, her voice raising, "For what reason Paul? Seriously? I've lost a little weight, so what? I live in LA, everyone here is skinny. Em isn't easy to live with these days, but that's YOUR fault! Before your first fight with him he was the best guy I'd ever known! Hell even after the fight he seemed okay. It wasn't until the next day that he did a complete personality 180. If he beats you tomorrow night he'll be fine. Hell even if he loses he'll probably be okay. He hasn't hurt me in any way. I don't have a reason to leave him! I'm not going to be like my mother! Look, I have to go. Good luck tomorrow. You'll need it."
She hangs up, leaving me to stare at the phone. Christ. Whatever though, I've done my part. I tried my best. Now it's on her.
**The Next Night. 10 Minutes Until Fight Time.**
Dad wraps my hands, and helps me with my gloves. As soon as he's done he moves away and lets me get up. Pacing back and forth, I throw punches, warming up my muscles, preparing for what's to come.
The knock on the door tells us it's time for us to walk down. Dad, Sam, Uncle Josh, and I walk out, I concentrate on the music, traditional music of my people. I let it flow through me, knowing that my people are at home supporting me. As we step onto the ramp the music changes, and the rock beat runs through me, pumping me up.
We make our way to the ring, and getting in I hold the belt up over my head to cheers from the crowd, before handing it over to the ref. Meeting my dad in the corner, he slips the mouth guard in as he says, "Alright Pauly, you know what you have to do to win this fight. Keep moving, I don't want to see you standing still for a second. You give this behemoth an opening and we're gunna be pickin you up off the floor. Keep it moving, use your speed, use your agility."
Nodding I hit my fists together, and Sam pats me on the shoulders, "Let's get this done Paul."
I nod, and the bell rings.
**Bella POV**
Sitting next to Rose on the couch in the skybox, I watch as Paul and Emmett meet in the center of the ring. She leans in, appearing friendly to anyone watching, but her voice is a hiss, as she asks, "So who are you rooting for, Bella?"
I sneer at her, "I'm rooting for my future husband of course."
I can't help but think though, that I hope that Paul beats him. I know it'll make life unbearable for me, at least for a little while, but I have to at least admit to myself that I don't think Em deserves to win with the way he's been acting since the last fight.
Rose sits back as Edward sits down on her other side. He wraps an arm around her, and I can't help but notice that she looks a little disgusted by him. I guess there's trouble in their paradise too. The thought makes me smile a little.
Turning my attention back to the fight, I see Paul moving swiftly landing punch after punch. Unfortunately they don't seem to be having any effect on Em. He's not moving much, and he seems to be just letting Paul hit him, but he doesn't seem to be feeling the blows.
Paul continues to bob and weave and throw punch after punch, and Em continues to absorb them.
Finally the bell rings, and they go back to their corners. Emmett practically looks bored as Carlisle squirts some water in his mouth, Peter isn't even bothering with instructions. Across the ring, Paul is still looking fresh as his dad talks to him. The commentators on the tv had given the round to Paul easily since he had thrown and landed the most punches.
The bell rings signaling the start of round 2, and the guys meet in the middle of the ring. Again Emmett pretty much just stands there as Paul lands punch after punch, he's moving a lot, and Em just turns to meet him. He's guarding his face, but leaving his body open.
Paul throws a left, followed by a right, and all of a sudden Emmett takes the opening, and punches him in the side. Paul stumbles but keeps upright, and moves to the side, continuing to punch.
Esme yells, "You see that! He rocked him!"
Biting the inside of my lip to keep from crying out I watch as Em lands another hit to the body. Paul stumbles again, but still he manages to keep upright, and after another few hits on his part, the bell rings.
In the corner Paul's team ices the areas where he's been hit, numbing the pain out. His Dad is close into his face, telling him to move, move, keep moving. In Em's corner they give him some water, and Peter tells him to just keep doing what he's doing.
I know that the quickest way to wear an opponent down in a match is to go for the body. You punish the body, and the body will fall, but it's not working on Emmett. For some reason he seems to be barely feeling the punches.
The bell rings and the third round starts, Paul moves swiftly into the middle of the ring and he circles Emmett, quickly landing as many punches as he can, and trying to stay out of Em's range.
He moves in, lands 2 quick punches, and moves out quickly avoiding the blow that Em aims at his midsection. Emmett watches him, moving stiffly, trying to keep his eyes on him. Paul moves in and lands 3 more hits. This time though, Em is ready for him, and he lets loose a flurry of hits, landing at least 4 to Paul's midsection.
Paul falls, and the ref starts counting. At 5 Paul makes it to his feet and steps towards the ref meeting his hands. The ref deems him fit to continue and Emmett moves towards him, Paul sees him coming and moves swiftly away. He moves as fast as he's able but you can tell the barrage of hits that Em landed had hit their mark.
My hands are clasped together, I don't even know what outcome I'm praying for, I just want this to end. Closing my eyes, I breathe out a sigh of relief as the bell rings signaling the end of the round.
Getting up, I go over to the table and grab a couple of pieces of fruit. I know if I try to take something heavier that Esme will launch into a diatribe about weight. She had insisted I take diet pills which was how I had lost the weight I had lost in so little time.
I grab a bottle of water, and sit back down just as the bell rings for the fourth round.
Both Emmett and Paul are moving, circling each other, neither one getting close enough to land a hit. My heart races as I realize that Emmett is slowly moving to the corner, maneuvering Paul so that he's trapped there. Paul realizes it too late, he tries to move out but Emmett moves in for the kill, he hits him hard in the side, Paul doubles over, and Em hits him in the head, he falls backwards into the turnbuckle.
Emmett throws hit after hit, and I don't even know if Paul is moving of his own accord or if it's just the impact of Em's fists hitting him that have him seemingly bouncing back and forth. Em hits him in the face, and I can't help the little shriek that escapes me.
Christ. He's going to kill him. Finally the ref manages to separate Emmett from Paul's body, which promptly falls to the matt. The referee counts and finally the fight is over.
I manage to stand up and cheer along with the rest. I have to maintain appearances right now. I can't afford anyone having any suspicions that I'm not happy about Em's win.
Making our way down to the ring, venue security gets us right to the apron quickly, and before I know it, Em has grabbed me round the waist, and is spinning me around.
He kisses me, I feel wrong, but I kiss him back. Hoping that maybe he'll start getting back to normal now. He pulls back, whispering in my ear, "I love you Bella. I'm so sorry about what an ass I've been since the last fight."
**Sam POV**
Paul falls to the mat, and I wince. It's over, I know it is. 4th round knock out. God. This isn't happening. I see Bella, and Cullen's family being brought to the ring. He grabs her and spins her around. She tries to look happy, it sort of works.
He kisses her and whispers in her ear. My dad and Paul's dad are in the ring now, the ring doctor is there too. I hear the ring doctor, "He has a level two concussion. He needs to be admitted to the hospital for observation for 24 hours."
They call for a stretcher, and I see the stricken look on Bella's face as they load Paul onto it. Following it out of the venue, Mr. D gets in the back of the ambulance with Paul, and Dad and I get in our rental car and follow the ambulance out of the lot.
It takes about 15 minutes to get to the hospital. The doctors are already waiting. They take him in, and put him in a bed. They ask him questions, he can only answer the most basic one of what his name is.
We wait, and they get him admitted. They move him upstairs. One of the guys from the venue comes in with his bag, and I take it from him, "Thank you."
He nods, "No problem, I hope he's okay."
I nod, "You and me both."
The guy leaves, and I hear a chirp from the bag. Opening it, I find Paul's phone, there's a message on it. From Bella, 'If anyone gets this message please let me know if Paul is alright. I am so sorry that he was hurt! Thank you.'
I'm sure Paul will get back to her when he's more cognizant. I resist the urge to send Bella back a message telling her to get bent. As far as I'm concerned, this is her fault, she distracted him, and now he's in the hospital.
