No good options

The gym felt suffocating. The walls felt closer, the air thick with sweat and the metallic scent of blood.

Jax sat on the worn-out bench near the ring, hands wrapped, knuckles raw. The sting didn't bother him. If anything, he welcomed it. Pain meant he was still here. Still fighting. But for the first time in his life, Jax wasn't sure if fighting was enough.

Across from him, Mason was slouched in his seat, a half-empty beer in one hand, his face tight with frustration."This is bad, Jax." Jax didn't respond.

Mason scoffed, shaking his head. "No, scratch that. This is worse than bad. This is death."

Jax flexed his fingers, staring down at his hands. These hands had built him. Saved him. Destroyed him. He exhaled, his jaw tight. "Tell me something I don't already know."

Mason leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Then why the hell are you still going through with it?" Jax's eyes flickered toward him, but he said nothing.

Mason let out a slow breath, his frustration barely contained. "You know this isn't just a fight, right? It's not about Vargas. It's not even about the money. Romano's setting you up, and you're walking right into it."

Jax exhaled, rubbing his bruised hands together. "And if I don't fight? What then?" Mason's jaw clenched.

Jax didn't give him a chance to answer. "If I don't fight, Romano owns me anyway. He'll use me for something else. Or he'll make me disappear."

Mason shook his head. "So what? You think fighting is gonna fix that?" Jax's chest tightened. "I think it's the only shot I have."

Mason ran a hand through his hair. "Damn it, Jax." He sat up straighter, eyes burning with frustration. "You always do this. You always think you have to fight alone. Like the only way out is through someone's fists."

Jax met his gaze, his voice lower now. "That's the only thing that's ever worked." Mason stared at him. His expression softened for the briefest moment, but then his fists clenched. "You're wrong."

Jax's body tensed. He hated this part. The part where Mason tried to make him see the world differently. Like there was another way out besides his fists. Mason leaned forward. "We could run." Jax exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "No." "I know a guy—"

"No." Mason slammed his beer on the floor, the liquid splashing over the concrete. "Damn it, Jax! You don't have to die in that ring!"

Jax stood up so fast the bench scraped against the floor. His heart was pounding, not from fear, but from rage.

"Run where Mason?" Jax snapped. "You think Romano's just gonna let that happen? You think we get in some car, drive off into the sunset, and he just forgets?"

Mason didn't back down. "It's better than walking into a goddamn execution!" Jax's hands curled into fists. His pulse pounded against his skull. He wasn't scared of fighting Vargas. He was scared of what came after.

Mason's voice lowered, but it didn't lose its edge. "You're not just fighting Vargas, Jax. You're fighting Romano. The whole damn system. And you're outnumbered." Jax gritted his teeth. "So what do you want me to do? Huh? Lay down? Let Romano own me for the rest of my life?"

Mason exhaled, shaking his head. "I want you to stop acting like you're already dead."

That one hit harder than any punch Jax had ever taken. Silence hung between them. The gym suddenly felt even smaller.

Jax let out a slow breath, his voice calmer now. "I don't run, Mason."Mason's shoulders slumped. He rubbed a hand down his face. "I know."

Jax sat back down, his body heavy. He was so damn tired.

Mason sighed, staring at the beer can at his feet. "Alright. Then let's talk about what happens if you go through with this fight."

Jax leaned back, resting his arms on his knees. "I win." Mason scoffed. "You think it's that simple?"

Jax smirked, though there was no humor in it. "It's never simple." Mason studied him. "You can't just fight to survive, Jax. You have to fight to win. And not just win—you need to send a message." Jax raised an eyebrow. "What kind of message?"

Mason leaned forward. "That you're not someone Romano can control." Jax let the words settle. He'd been fighting his whole life—on the streets, in the underground circuit, in places where the only way to earn respect was to bleed for it. This was just another fight.

Except it wasn't. If Romano wanted to make an example out of him, Jax had to flip the script.

Romano thought he had Jax backed into a corner, but Jax had spent his entire life fighting out of corners. If he played this right, he wouldn't just walk away.

He'd break Romano's hold over him completely. A slow, sharp smile tugged at the corner of Jax's mouth. Mason saw it and narrowed his eyes. "Whatever you're thinking, I already hate it."

Jax leaned forward. "Then you're gonna hate what I'm about to say next."