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: Yeah I know I know, 'stop starting new shit and work on the old DG!' I'm still working on the old stuff, don't worry!

**La Push, Washington. Friday June 15th, 2 weeks from fight Paul POV**

My alarm clock rips me out of sleep. It's barely 5am, still pretty dark, but the time doesn't really matter, I'm in training. My feet hit the floor and the grey early morning light hits my eyes. I grab a pair of shorts and a muscle shirt out of my drawer, throwing on the clothes I run my hand through my short spiky hair and head downstairs.

My dad grunts as he shoves a big bowl of oatmeal with fresh fruit in it at me. I dig in fueling myself up for my day. This time of the morning it's just me and my old man, who's also my trainer, within the next half hour though Sam and Jared, my two best friends my whole life, will show up along with some of the younger guys around the res.

My name is Paul Dixon, I'm 21 years old, and I've been boxing for about 8 years now. Most guys who get into it, they get the love for it from their dads, and while I did get a good bit of it from him, for the most part I got my love for the Sweet Science from my grandma. If there was one thing Maya Dixon loved it was watching a good fight, so I was exposed to it from the time I was just a little guy.

My father had been an up and coming fighter when he was my age, unfortunately he wiped out on his Harley at age 20, and spent the better half of 2 years recovering and learning to walk again. His legs and back were never really the same, he didn't have to walk with a cane or be in a wheelchair or anything, but he could never compete with men at 110 percent.

Dad met my mom while he was recouping from the accident, she was a nurse at the hospital where he did his rehab, and he still says that half the time he went it was just so that she would smile at him when he came in the door. By the time he had recovered they were dating, and less than 3 years later I was born. They still to this day have never tied the knot, but they're still together, and they love each other so I guess that's enough for them.

Finishing my breakfast I tie my shoes and head out the door, with each step along the path my mind clears, by the time I get two blocks away Sam has joined me, followed by Jared, Seth, and Embry. We run through town in the early morning light, getting to the outskirts we continue up the road towards Forks, I'm sparring later so this is just a good warm-up, jogging at a moderate pace 2 miles out, and 2 miles back.

Hitting the 2 mile marker we turn around and head back, tomorrow is endurance day, which means I'll run sprints along the beach while my dad times it out. We're just getting back into town when a guy with a camera comes up behind us. I recognize him as working for the local paper, he had done a couple of stories on me, mostly flattering hometown boy makes good stuff. He had politely glossed over my ladies man reputation and for that I was grateful, it wasn't something I wanted my Grandma to have to read about.

He calls out, "Paul! Mr. Dixon! Can I get a minute of your time?"

I slow down and move to the shoulder of the road, Sam and the rest of the guys stopping behind me. The reporter shakes my hand, "Steve Caley, La Push Observer sports columnist, I don't know if you remember me, but I've done a couple of pieces on you."

I give him a nod, "Yeah, I remember, decent pieces, I was happy with them. Thank you."

Caley nods, "Glad you liked them. I just wondered if you could give me a comment about your upcoming fight with Emmett 'The Crusher' Cullen?"

A couple of the younger guys snort, and I give them a hard look, before returning my attention to Caley, "Cullen is a good fighter, but I'm better. He's only been in the game for 2 years, I've been doing this for damn near half my life. He has the money, and he has the swagger, but he doesn't have my skill, he doesn't have the benefit of my father's experience, and he doesn't have the support of an entire community behind him. I have all of those things, and when I meet him in the ring, I am going to be the one who comes out victorious."

Caley nods, smiling, as he follows up, "Paul, you've only recently started using the nickname, 'Dire'. Why now, after so much time in the game, have you decided to choose a nickname?"

A grin breaks on my face, and a couple of the guys laugh. Turning my attention back to the reporter, I answer, "Some of the boys laugh, because they know. My grandma was the one who really introduced me to boxing when I was small. When I first started training she told me, 'Pauly, you put the work in and whoever is facing you is going to be facing some dire consequences.', well my answer to that was, 'Gramma, what does that even mean?' and she replies, 'Dire means causing great fear and suffering.' Well she's getting older but her words have never been truer, because when you get in the ring with Paul 'Dire' Dixon, you will be dealing with some great fear and I promise you, that you will be suffering."

Caley smirks, "Thank you Mr. Dixon. I really appreciate your time."

Nodding, I reply, "Please, call me Paul. Always a pleasure. See you around."

He goes back the way he came, and the guys and I continue back to the house to meet up with my dad and get down to the gym.

We get back to my house and my dad greets us with a scowl on his face, and a paper in his hand, "Have you seen the Forks morning paper?"

I shake my head, "Uh, no. Obviously not since you look ready to beat someone and I'm still cool, calm, and collected."

He thrusts it at me, "It's on the page between the gossip column, and the sport's section."

Well that doesn't sound good… I open the paper, quickly scan the article, and a groan escapes my lips, "Has Grandma seen it?"

Dad shrugs, "I don't know son, I doubt it since she hasn't called, but maybe you should call her and warn her not to read it."

Nodding in agreement, I sigh, "Why would she do this? I was honest with her, she said she understood."

Dad shrugs again, "Women, who really knows what they want."

Continuing to read the article I realize that it's more of a fluff piece on Cullen and his engagement, and upcoming wedding to a Forks girl he met while vacationing at his parents estate there as a teenager.

Bella Swan, the name rings a bell in the back of my head, do I know her? I don't think so but if she grew up in Forks chances were our paths had crossed at some point or another.

Shaking my head, I give my dad back the paper, "It's a rag piece. Cullen's daddy probably paid for it. Not worth our time or energy. We'll beat that asshole in the ring."

**Time skip later that same day**

Sam is in the ring with me, we've been going for hours, and I'm not tired yet. The conditioning program that my dad has been doing with me must really be working because Sam's the best sparring partner I've got and he's lookin like he's ready to hit the mat.

Finally my dad blows the whistle, "Alright that's enough! Pauly, how do you feel?"

I move in place punching the air, "I feel good, Dad. Like I could go 10 rounds right now."

He laughs, "That's what I thought. All our work is paying off. I'm proud of you son. That belt is yours."

Sam is in the corner, leaning on the ropes, and taking deep breaths. Dad shakes his head at him, "Sam, man you need to stop lettin' that pretty wife of yours cook all that heavy food for you."

Sam grins, "My Leah's a damn good cook Mr. D, but you're right, she's makin me soft."

Dad laughs, "Nah, Son, I'm messing with you. Come out with Pauly tomorrow and do sprints with us, that'll help bring your endurance up."

All I can think about is the vacated North Western Heavyweight Championship, the first stop on the road to World Heavyweight gold, and me and Cullen were going to be fighting it out for it in less than two weeks.

My Dad looks at me, "Go on with the heavy bag if you want. Only until you start to feel it, then go shower up, go home, and relax."

Nodding at him I go between the ropes and drop down to the ground, heading over to the heavy bag I think back to the piece from the paper this morning, and channeling the anger I start to pound the bag.

They had dug up one of my one night stands from like 2 years ago, Lauren Mallory, and had her talk about how I treated her badly, led her on, and then ultimately used and ditched her. It was all fucking bullshit, I had been completely up front with her, I was focused on my career, on my sport.

I had actually taken her out for a really nice evening before we hooked up. I had in no way treated her like a hooker, well unless you count slightly rough sex in that category, and I certainly had NOT offered to pay her as they implied in the article. Thankfully my Grandmother hadn't read the article when I called her, and she promised that she wouldn't bother reading it.

I give the heavy bag one last hard punch, catching it on the backswing, and settling it back into place. Going into the locker room, I grab a towel, and a bar of soap, and head for the showers, stripping off my sweaty clothes, I leave them on the bench in the outer part of the stall, and turn on the water.

It goes hot, and I'm thankful for the opportunities that I've been given. With my first major payday I had built up the rec center, adding the boiler system that was now heating the water I was standing under, and funding some after school programs. The kids had a place to go where they could learn a skill and the parents had the peace of mind of knowing exactly where their kids were and what they were doing.

Grabbing the soap off the ledge I wash the sweat of the day off, the hot water feels amazing on my body, which is starting to ache from the days exertion. I let the water run over me, letting my mind drift into that in between place, clearing it of all worries.

I hear a door open somewhere at the front of the locker room, it rips me from my bubble, and I decide to get going. Turning the water off, I grab the towel and dry off, pulling the clean shorts and t-shirt out of my bag I get dressed, go back to the locker and grab my shoes, pulling them on before gathering my bags and heading out the door.