The Ghost In The Ring

Chapter 13: 

The buzz in the gym had changed. Every time Jack walked in, he could feel the shift in energy, the whispered conversations, the sideways glances. He knew what was coming before anyone said a word. The name Rico hung in the air like a storm cloud, darkening every space he entered.

Jack had fought his way through the local circuits, earning respect not just for his wins but for the quiet, strategic way he fought. But with every victory, the media had become more interested in his story, in his connection to Ethan. At first, it had been subtle—reporters asking about his motivations, mentioning his brother in passing. But lately, Ethan's death had become the focal point of every interview, every article. And with that, Rico "The Beast" Martinez had returned to the forefront of the conversation.

"Jack 'The Ghost' Hayes—brother of the late Ethan Hayes—could face the man responsible for his brother's death in the ring." The headline had been bold and sensational, designed to provoke, and it had worked. The internet was buzzing with rumors, fans speculating about a possible match between Jack and Rico. Some were calling it "the fight of the decade," others a reckoning long overdue.

Sitting in the locker room after another grueling training session, Jack scrolled through his phone, unable to escape the onslaught of articles, comments, and posts about the supposed showdown. Hayes vs. Martinez: A Fight for Vengeance? It seemed that no one cared about Jack as a fighter in his own right anymore. He was once again Ethan's brother, the man seeking revenge. And worst of all, it was working. People were watching. People were invested. It didn't matter that Jack had built his own reputation—Rico's shadow loomed over him, and the world was demanding a confrontation.

"Do you think you'll fight him?" The question came from Ray, one of the newer guys at the gym, as he sat down beside Jack, towel draped around his neck.

Jack didn't answer right away. He kept scrolling through his phone, pretending to focus on an article that didn't matter. His jaw tightened at the question. It was the same one everyone had been asking—fighters, reporters, even some of his old friends. The pressure was mounting, and Jack could feel it like a weight pressing on his chest.

"Does it matter?" Jack finally responded, his voice tense. He put the phone down and rubbed his temples, the headache that had been brewing all day threatening to split his skull in two. "It's not up to me."

Ray shrugged, his eyes wide with curiosity. "I mean, people are talking. I saw a post this morning saying Rico's camp might be interested. If you keep winning, it could happen, right?"

If you keep winning. Those words echoed in Jack's mind, reminding him that every fight from here on out wasn't just about his journey anymore. It was about building toward something the world was eager to see. The clash between him and Rico was being painted as inevitable, as if their fates were intertwined. Jack hated it.

"I don't know, man," Jack said, his voice low, trying to sound indifferent. "I'm not thinking that far ahead."

But that was a lie. Of course he was thinking about it. How could he not? Every night, the thought of facing Rico in the cage haunted him, pulling at the anger and grief he had tried so hard to control. Rico had walked away from the fight that killed Ethan, his record spotless, his reputation as The Beast untouched. Jack had watched him from the sidelines, seething with a mix of guilt and helplessness, knowing that Ethan's death had been dismissed as an accident, a tragic mistake. The officials had let Rico off, and the world had moved on. But Jack hadn't.

Now, the world was pushing them back together. And no matter how much Jack wanted to believe that he was fighting for himself, not for revenge, he couldn't deny the temptation to finally face the man who had taken his brother away.

That night, Jack found himself lying awake, staring at the ceiling, the shadows of the room seeming to move with every thought. His mind kept replaying the fight, the moment Rico's elbow struck Ethan, the way Ethan's body crumpled, lifeless on the mat. He had thought the image would fade with time, that fighting would give him peace. But here he was, years later, still trapped in that moment, still haunted by his brother's death.

Could fighting Rico bring him closure? Could stepping into the cage with the man who had destroyed his family somehow set things right? Or would it just reopen the wounds he had spent so long trying to heal?

The next day, Jack arrived at the gym early, needing to clear his head. The gym was empty, save for Lena, who was preparing for their session. She noticed his dark expression as soon as he walked in and didn't hesitate to call him out.

"You look like hell," she said bluntly, tossing him a pair of gloves.

Jack caught them but didn't put them on. Instead, he stood there for a moment, staring at the floor, trying to find the words.

"Everyone's talking about Rico," he said finally, the frustration clear in his voice. "It's like I'm not even me anymore. I'm just… Ethan's brother. The guy who might get a shot at revenge."

Lena paused, her sharp eyes watching him carefully. "And what do you want, Jack?" she asked, folding her arms. "Do you want that fight? Or is this all just noise?"

Jack didn't answer right away. He wasn't sure how to. Part of him wanted to say no—that he was past that, that he had moved on. But another part of him, the part still burning with unresolved grief, was screaming for it. He wanted to face Rico, to look him in the eyes and make him answer for what he had done.

"I don't know," Jack admitted, shaking his head. "I thought fighting would help me find peace. But now… all I can think about is how much I want to get in the cage with him. And I don't know if that's for the right reasons."

Lena sighed, stepping closer. "This was always going to come up, Jack. As much as you want to build your own legacy, your past is a part of you. People are going to make connections to Ethan's death, and they're going to push for this fight because it sells tickets. But you have to decide if it's something you want, not something they want."

Jack met her gaze, feeling the weight of her words. She was right. The world was clamoring for a showdown between him and Rico, but that didn't mean he had to give it to them. This fight wasn't about the media, or the fans, or even the promise of revenge. It was about him, and what he needed to move forward.

"I'm not sure what I want," Jack said, his voice steady. "But I know I don't want to lose myself in this."

Lena nodded, her expression softening. "Then take your time. Don't let the noise get to you. Whether you fight Rico or not, it's your decision. But remember, fighting him won't bring Ethan back. And it won't magically heal everything."

Jack knew she was right. He could fight Rico, could beat him, but it wouldn't change what had happened. It wouldn't erase the pain. Closure, if it ever came, wouldn't be found in the cage. It had to come from somewhere deeper, somewhere within himself.

As Jack left the gym that day, the weight of Rico's shadow still hung over him, but it didn't feel quite as suffocating. He had a decision to make, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like he could make it on his own terms. Whether or not he faced Rico, the real battle was the one inside him. And that was a fight he wasn't ready to lose.