Disclaimer: I do not own Warrior (surprise!)
Chapter 5
January 19th
Tommy's alarm went off at six in the morning and he jerked awake out of a dream full of gunshots and desert sand. Smacking the alarm off, he waited in the pitch-darkness for his heart rate to return to normal before rolling to his feet and heading for the shower. It was too early yet for anyone else to be up and he tried his best to be quiet.
Tess had returned from her sister's house last night and the family, Tommy included, had gone out for pizza, much to the girl's delight. He was finding, to his surprise that he actually got on well with Tess. He admired her stoic no-nonsense attitude, which had allowed her to accept that he would be sleeping on their couch for the foreseeable future without question or fuss. Tess reminded Tommy painfully of his own mother, the two women had the same warmth and devotion to their children but despite the pain of reminiscence, he liked being around her. Plus, he thought, she made Brendan incredibly happy and anyone who did that was good enough for him.
In the last few days Tommy had begun to relax into his temporary home, he'd stopped waking Brendan up in the middle of the night, wracked with nightmares and his craving for the pain meds he'd thrown away had started to ebb somewhat.
Getting out of the shower Tommy quickly surveyed himself in the mirror taking in the shoulder, still slightly discolored and swollen from the re-setting, which had hurt like a bitch. He was still relatively skinny, nothing like his fighting weight at Sparta but the dark circles had been wiped from under his eyes and the color come back into his face. No oil painting he thought ruefully, slipping on a shirt, but less like a crack addict at least.
He was borrowing Brendan's car, after Sparta, the family had been able to afford a second one for Tess. Brendan had given him the keys the night before and threatened to take his balls off if he so much as scratched "old faithful." It was typical; Brendan had been just the same with his first car back in high school when he made Tommy walk three miles home for putting his feet up on the dashboard.
Arriving at the Frank's Gym just before eight, Tommy noticed that it was open and several men were already doing sets in the weights area as he made his way towards Frank's office.
He knocked and stuck his head around the door.
"Tommy! Come in." Frank stage whispered, as he was on the phone. Tommy loitered awkwardly, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He waited for Frank to finish his conversation and stared at the many pictures of famous fighters on the walls.
"You've got quite a collection going here" he said when Frank put down the phone.
"Thanks" Frank replied, "I should probably get a picture of you and Brendan up there one of these days."
"Yeah, well one of Bren definitely." Tommy said quietly, Frank nodded and motioned for Tommy to sit.
"Okay, here's what I need you to do for today," he pushed a stack of papers across the desk. Tommy looked nonplussed.
"They're application forms for fighters to enter different competitions, see?" he pointed to the headers, "MMA Carolina, the Red bull Tournament in LA, yeah?"
"Okay so, what do I do with them?" asked Tommy.
"Right, so each tournament has a website and the entry form that the fighter fills in has to be re-posted online and then we need to get the dates of their fights, and it all goes in the spreadsheets."
"Right…" said Tommy, not sure how to feel about his first taste of office work, "So where do I do all this?"
"Here, you're manning the desk for a couple hours while I go and talk to some potential sponsors. That okay?"
"Yeah," Tommy nodded, "I think I can handle that, do people come in here to sign up to the gym?" he asked remembering Colt Boyd's setup.
"Yeah, the sheets are here-" he indicated a draw on the left, "and insurance waivers are there as well."
"Okay. Good." Said Tommy seemingly for the hundredth time. The two men swapped places and he noticed for the first time that Frank was wearing a suit. He smirked, Frank looked about as comfortable in a suit as he would in a dress. "So, you're going all out for those sponsors huh?"
"A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." And with that Frank strode of the office leaving Tommy alone with a mountain of paperwork.
The fist thing Tommy noticed about working in the office was how unbelievably distracting the sound of the gym was when he was immersed in the fiddly task of entering the fighters for their upcoming competitions. After deleting one profile completely and having to start from scratch and then nearly entering a 200- pound fighter into a bantamweight regional bout he gave up and decided he needed a break.
Heading out of the office and rolling his shoulder a few times experimentally he nearly went headfirst into a large black man walking in the opposite direction.
"Whoa there." The man said pulling up sharply.
"Sorry man." Replied Tommy, embarrassed.
"It's alright- say," the man's Harlem drawl stretched the words out to improbable proportions, "You're that Tommy Riordan guy aint'cha?"
"Uh yeah, why?" The man raised his eyebrows at Tommy's defensiveness but then smiled again, very white teeth glinting against his dark skin, Tommy noticed that he had no fewer than three gold caps.
"Jay Dwayne" he said, sticking out a hand the size of a dinner plate "Nice to meet'cha man. You trainin' here too?"
"Not yet" replied Tommy, shaking his hand "I'm working in the office."
"The office? Man you should be out there in the cage, I saw you in Sparta, was pretty dope." Tommy felt his ears go red. He'd heard that he'd gained some fans from his involvement in Sparta but as he was sent straight back into the Marines he'd never really met any.
"Uhh, thanks man, its just 'till my shoulder heals up then I'm gonna get back in shape."
"Oh, cool man well, I'd better hit the weights, Frank's got me here all hours of the day. Where is he by the way?"
"Talkin' to sponsors."
"Ah, right well, catch up w'cha later then."
"Yeah man, see ya." And with a wave Jay was striding off towards a group of equally massive men by the weights all of which turned to gawp at Tommy, Jay had obviously told them who he was. Feeling supremely uncomfortable under the scrutiny, Tommy returned to the office.
Filling in the last sign-up form on the computer and shutting the dammed thing down, Tommy lent back in his chair and stretched, feeling his back click in a satisfying manner. Frank was due back at any moment and Tommy was desperate to get off desk duty, sitting still was never his forte. He checked his watch, it was twelve thirty almost time for lunch. Just as he was wondering where he could pick up a sandwich, Frank came bursting into the office, shrugging off his coat he threw it over the back of a chair.
"Y'alright?" asked Tommy as Frank threw himself down into the chair across the desk and rubbed his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah been in meetings all this morning. One of the fighters here has lost his sponsor."
"How'd he manage that?" Tommy gathered up the completed forms, which he had spread across the desk and handed them to Frank.
"Oh you know-" Frank flicked through the sign-up forms checking the dates, "DUI, drug position… he was being sponsored by Gatorade so you're supposed to uphold some sort of clean living image..."
"His loss I guess" Said Tommy getting up and putting on his jacket. "I'm off for lunch- half an hour?"
"No take the hour off, I've got some more emails to send."
"Okay."
With that Tommy strode out of the office and back into the main gym, hood up and hands in the pockets. However keeping his head down didn't stop him from being waylaid.
"Hey man, Riordan!" he heard from somewhere to his left, getting a feeling this was aimed at him Tommy was torn between stopping and being polite or pretending he hadn't heard and making a break for it. In the end the manners his mother had instilled in him won out.
"Hey." he replied lowering his hood to take a look at who was calling him. It was Jay; towel over one shoulder, waving for him to come over.
Jay's two friends were both obviously heavy weight fighters, looking more like basketball players on steroids. They towered over Tommy and were obviously excited to meet him, the man who'd ripped the door off a tank. The men introduced them selves as Joe and Chad both fighters of Frank's. Tommy shook their hands and asked them what fights they were looking to be competing at in the near future. The conversations took them all the way out of the gym and before he knew it Tommy was settled into a booth at a greasy spoon café across the road. It reminded Tommy of the place where he had met with his father to ask him to train him for Sparta all those months ago. He felt a pang of guilt at not having visited him. They had spoken a few times on the phone during Tommy's time at Camp George but not nearly to the extent to which he had spoken to Brendan. Secretly Tommy wondered it his father's relapse hadn't something to do with it, if the tables hadn't turned and now his old man was avoiding him.
"Man!" someone clicked their fingers in front of his face and Tommy jerked back to reality.
"What?" everyone was looking at him.
"What you gonna have darlin'?" a pretty blonde waitress was looking at him expectantly.
"Uhh," Tommy stalled, looking at Jay who threw his hands up.
"Don't look at me man I already ordered."
"Right, err- I'll have a quarter pounder thanks" The three heavy weights looked jealous, Tommy felt the back of his neck and his ears heat up in embarrassment, "I'm trying to get back to middle weight."
"Don't tell me you lost condition in the Marines, what were you doing for Sparta?" asked Chad.
"My old man was training me, he knows how it's done, I reckon I lost about twenty pounds in the Marines but that's my fault."
Chad and the others looked flabbergasted, "Twenty pounds? You ever think about going down the weight class permanently?"
"Yeah, thought about it but Sparta is a middle weight competition-"
"We know." Chorused the heavy weights, obviously not pleased to be out of the running for such a high profile competition with such a large purse.
The waitress returned with three plates of chicken salad and a hamburger, she made eyes at Joe (who only had eyes for Tommy's hamburger) and left in a huff.
"Man she was totally giving you the look!" stage whispered Jay to his friend who almost choked on a piece of chicken.
"I, um, I'm sure she was just doin' her job" stuttered Jay his Hispanic olive skin flushing.
"Yeah, I'm sure she was just doing her job," mocked Chad. "Joe's useless with chicks" he explained to Tommy as though he scene needed further clarification. "Me'n Jay have been tryin' to set him up for ages now but… no luck."
"Really? Thought you'd be a hit with the groupies." smiled Tommy.
"He is, just too shy to see it." Said Jay.
Joe muttered something mutinous into his salad, flushing deeper. The others grinned.
Just then someone entered the café and the thick smoke inside cleared momentarily as a stiff breeze rushed in. Tommy, having sat in the aisle seat facing the door was the first to see the girls walk in but the expression on his face was enough to have the others craning their necks to take a look.
Three girls entered the café, looking as out of place as butterflies in a swamp. They maneuvered themselves to the bar and sat chattering softly.
"The other advantage of this place," pointed out Jay, speaking quietly so they wouldn't be overheard, "some of the chicks from Pittsburgh ballet hang out here in their lunch break."
"Ballet dancers? I didn't know the 'Burg even had a ballet," Tommy stole another appreciative look at the girls at the bar.
"I talked to 'em once" mumbled Joe from across the table.
"Just about the only time he's ever talked to a woman." Laughed Chad.
"Shut up man! It was the blonde one there." Joe looked longingly at the tiny white-blond woman with hair that tumbled down her back. She was whispering something to one of her friends; a girl with dark brunette hair and deep pink lips that Tommy would dream about that night.
"She is pretty hot." Said Jay simply, returning to his salad with renewed vigor, "They come in a few times a week, puts this place head and shoulders above any other joint in town."
The others agreed and returned to their lunch, to conversation moved to training and Frank's use of Mozart, which all the fighters agreed was proving weirdly effective.
"It sorted Midnight Lee out," said Joe conversationally, "Remember when he first came here?"
"Yeah," agreed Chad "he was all over the place, I think getting beat by your bro sort of took it out of his confidence y'know?"
Tommy felt a rush of pride for Brendan, the toughest brother on the planet.
"I thought Midnight trained in Chicago?" questioned Tommy, taking another bite of burger- he sure was glad to be off military rations.
"He was," explained Chad "But after Sparta he ditched his trainer and came straight to Frank- tryin' to get a piece of the Campana magic."
"And he's improving again?" asked Tommy.
"Scoping out the competition already?" grinned Jay.
"You have to know who you're getting into the cage with, right?"
"Well, as long as you're not planning on fighting your brother again I don't think you have to worry." Jay chuckled, the deep bass vibrating the whole table.
"Say-" asked Jay tipping the waitress as they made to leave, "Your brother ever getting back in the ring?"
Tommy shrugged slipping on his jacket in preparation for the cold Pittsburgh air. "I don't think so, not after Sparta." He didn't add that Tess would probably never forgive him if he did.
"So you really are in the running then for the five million?"
"I guess, have to see how my shoulder heals up and if I can get back in shape in time." The other men nodded together like bobbing dogs on a dashboard.
As Tommy and the others headed back across the road towards the gym, they all chanced a last look at the dancers at the bar caught each other looking and laughed. Maybe, Tommy thought, things might be looking up. The girl with pink lips caught his eye as he looked back at the café for one last time. Things were definitely looking up.
A/N Thanks for reading (I will totally respond to any reviews so if you have any comments/critique please don't hold back) xxx