Kinged

by B. B. Hamel

  “Let’s get this over with,” Rex said. Michael laughed.

  “Alright, lads, to your sides. On the bell, you start.” Michael and Gunther moved off and joined Spud, Clutch, and me. Gunther stood in toward the center, rolling his shoulders. Rex retreated to other side of the circle.

  They stood like that, eyeing each other, both ripped and dangerous. Gunther had a small smile on his face and Rex moved slowly, wincing with pain. I was terrified and my heart began to smash through my chest. Adrenaline spiked through me mixed with fear and anticipation. The crowd began to cheer again and chant, and the energy level skyrocketed.

  As it began to peak, the bell rang.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Rex moved first, a blur of dangerous speed. All pretensions at limping were gone as his muscles flexed and he flew across the ring. Gunther hesitated for half a second too long, surprised at Rex’s movement, and caught a fast series of jabs to his face and body. Gunther quickly gathered himself and pushed Rex back, and they began to circle each other like animals on the prowl.

  My whole body was tense as the crowd shouted in cheers in waves. I couldn’t tell who they were rooting for; I thought it might be more for the general violence between the two men than for either man specifically. They wanted blood and didn’t care whose blood they got. For a second, I understood Michael’s dilemma. How did you control people like this? Michael had his hands full constantly juggling one crisis after another among people who wanted nothing more than to hurt everyone around them.

  More than that, I understood why Rex wanted to get away from it all. As exciting as it was, there wasn’t a single decent person in that room. Being surrounded by all that violence, anger, and death can change a person. Rex was probably trying to get out before he was stuck forever. It made sense that he was so desperate to escape. He probably didn’t know any other life, or at least hadn’t for a long time. He must have realized that his chances to truly change himself were becoming fewer and fewer.

  Gunther faked a lunge forward, and Rex took a step back. Gunther then twisted and kicked at Rex’s face. Rex managed to duck at the last second, but he was off balance. Gunther used his momentum to launch himself at Rex. His fists caught Rex on the chin before Rex got his hands up to defend himself. They circled closely and traded blows like boxers, and I couldn’t tell who was winning. Their speed was incredible, and I had no idea how either man could possibly still stand after taking even a single punch, and yet they exchanged multiple. Their fists were blurs and they moved with incredible precision. I had never seen such amazing reflexes before in my life. During that exchange, Gunther probably took more hits, but Rex was already injured before the fight started, and each blow took more out of him. Soon, Rex lunged forward and they fell into a grapple, their strong arms locked around each other, struggling for control.

  The sweat on their bodies rolled down toward the cold concrete floor as the din of the crowd built and fell in waves. For a second, I pretended I was in an amusement park riding a rollercoaster of sound. Blood rolled slowly from Rex’s nose and dripped onto his body. I had never seen a man force another man to bleed before with his bare hands. My rollercoaster fantasy was shattered by the violence happening in front of me. The man I loved, the man I was so deeply shattered by was being physically mauled, possibly to death. I felt a scream building in my stomach, but I stifled it. I wouldn’t give Michael the pleasure of hearing my pain.

  After a short struggle, Gunther managed to get leverage under Rex, and threw him over his hip. Rex hit the ground with a soft thud, and Gunther was on top of him in a flash. Immediately, Rex wrapped his arms and leg around Gunther’s body and held him there, not allowing Gunther the ability to strike him. They began to struggle again, their muscles straining, each man looking for a slight advantage in leverage and strength. It wasn’t flashy or exciting, but I could tell that their grappling was incredibly dangerous. Both one of them was capable of killing the other with the slightest opening, and they were both keenly aware of that. While the struggle may not have looked as exciting as the punching and kicking had, I could tell that it was much more dangerous.

  I glanced at Michael, and his face was completely impassive. For a moment that could decide his entire life, he was taking it in like it was another television show or something. There was no expression at all, and he stared at the two men without blinking. Aside from me, Michael was the only one in the room not cheering and yelling. I noticed men moving through the crowd with money, taking small bets on the action, and I figured that the betting was the entire point of the fights. Plus, men seemed to like fights, especially men like them. Violence and betting mixed to create the most exciting atmosphere, at least in some places.

  Rex rolled to his left as Gunther attempted to rear back away from him, which let Rex get free of Gunther’s weight. Gunther jumped at Rex but missed as he scrambled to his feet. Gunther met him head on and they traded blows again, one for one. The crowd went crazy again, happy that their slow struggle had broken up. Gunther took a step forward to attempt to grab Rex again, but Rex ducked him then kicked him hard in the gut. Gunther stumbled back, and Rex followed up with a hard right hand to his jaw. Gunther fell back into the crowd, but the men there caught him and pushed him back at Rex. Gunther came up swinging. He aimed huge, powerful blows at Rex’s face, but Rex was too fast. Each fist missed by inches as Rex dodged and weaved like a pro. Their hands were blurs as they came at each other again, both smoothly blocking then counterattacking.

  Both men looked exhausted, panting and bleeding. Gunther’s brow was cracked open and Rex’s nose was freely pouring blood. They came at each other again, and ended up back in the same grappling position. I understood that I was watching a match between two extremely talented, deadly individuals, and that I was probably missing the finer points of the battle. All I could think about was my Rex, his body, and his freedom. Rex was marginally larger, but Gunther was fresh, and again Gunther gained advantage. This time, though, instead of throwing Rex, he slipped around behind him and wrapped his arms around Rex’s neck. He held him there, arms in a chokehold, and flexed.

  Rex’s tongue nearly popped out of his mouth at the force of Gunther’s arms. The crowd went crazy, and a sharp thrill of fear ran through me. The people were screaming, going insane, as Gunther and Rex slowly sank down to the ground. Rex was weakly smacking at Gunther’s face, struggling to get out of the hold, but he wasn’t able to. Gunther dropped to his knees and Rex was down on his seat, slowly turning blue. I could see the end coming, Rex murdered before my eyes in the middle of a ring of murderous men. I could feel another scream begin to well itself up through my body. I couldn’t believe that Rex was going to lose, that he was going to die. I couldn’t believe that my end was coming, in a dingy bar basement.

  Before I could release myself, Rex reached back with his right hand and pressed his thumb against Gunther’s eye. With every last ounce of energy he probably had left, Rex pressed his thumb into the eye. Gunther screamed, but didn’t let go immediately. Rex continued to press harder, and Gunther kept screaming, until blood began to run down Rex’s hand. Gunther let go and whipped himself backward, holding his eye and screaming, blood streaming between his fingers. Rex collapsed onto his stomach, coughing and choking but alive and breathing. The two men writhed separately, both dazed and in pain. The crowd went insane at the sight of more blood, and I felt sick, ready to throw up at any second.

  Hope replaced the fear that had filled me as Rex slowly gained his feet. Gunther was still on his knees holding his bleeding eye. Before he noticed what was happening, Rex landed a violent kick to his nose, cracking Gunther’s head back and sending the man sprawling. Rex didn’t pause. He immediately jumped on Gunther and began pummeling him with his fists. The crowd went crazy, screaming and shouting, as Rex slowly stopped hitting Gunther. He stood up, panting and bleeding, but alive. Gunther lay on the ground, not moving.

  The crowd went insane. They converged on Rex and lifted him into
the air. It was complete chaos in the room. I glanced at Michael, but he was gone. I looked around, but couldn’t find him in all the chaos. I could feel Spud and Clutch still looming near me, and decided that it was time. I turned toward Spud and smiled big for him.

  “That was amazing,” I yelled over the crowd. Spud grinned at me. I took a step closer to Spud, stood on my tiptoes, and put my lips near his horrible ear.

  “I hope you never touch another woman again you fuck,” I said, and then I kneed him in the balls with all my strength.

  Spud immediately doubled over, holding his crotch, then fell onto his side. I kicked him again for good measure, body full of adrenaline and rage.

  Clutch looked at me blankly for a second, and then shrugged and looked away. I immediately scanned the room for Rex and spotted him nearby being congratulated by a bunch of different men. I pushed my way toward him, through the mass of yelling and cheering bodies, and broke free, running directly into him. I threw my arms around his neck and was kissing him before I knew what I was doing. Relief flooded through me, pure relief washed over my body as I hugged him, tears coming to my eyes. I knew we had won, I knew Rex was free and I was free, and we would have a chance together. Part of me thought it was over, and all I could think about was how unfair it was that I wouldn’t get more time with him. And yet there we were, hugging, alive, and victorious.

  He kissed me back, his arms around me, and when we pulled apart we laughed harder than we had ever laughed before.

  Finally the commotion died down, and Rex held me in his arms.

  “Did they hurt you?” he said.

  “No, I’m okay.”

  “I’m so fucking sorry. Michael is going to pay for this.”

  “Where did he go?” I asked.

  Rex looked around, but we couldn’t find him. He grabbed a nearby man, a heavyset guy with a closely trimmed beard, and said something in his ear. The guy nodded at Rex, grabbed a few more men, and ran up the stairs. I noticed that certain groups of men were dragging others outside, either up into the bar or out through the loading bay. Spud and Clutch were among the men being dragged. I didn’t know what was happening to them, and I didn’t want to know. Whatever it was, those two pig-faced pieces of shit deserved it.

  “Did you just order them?” I asked.

  Rex shrugged. “Not really. I only suggested they find Michael before he gets away.”

  I laughed and kissed him again.

  He grimaced. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he said.

  “And never look the fuck back,” I said. He grinned at me. I helped him hobble toward the stairs, up into the bar, and out the front door into the city I felt like we owned, our personal paradise of concrete and people and noise. We walked slowly, breathing in the night and each other, happy to be together, and happy to be free. Rex was his own person, and I was ready to find out who that new man was going to be. I was happy, and I felt more alive than I ever imagined possible, the entire night alive and buzzing, alive with energy and sound, alive in my core and my heart, alive with the heat of summer, alive with the body of the man I wanted to be around forever, alive with love and lust and more, alive with sweat and blood and our future and our freedom, more alive, more.

  EPILOGUE

  I reached up and gripped the rough cliff face. I felt the sweat rolling down my back as my muscles flexed along my forearms, getting a decent grip on the tiny cracks in the rock. My fingers dug in, and I slowly shifted my weight upwards, reaching with my right foot and left arm. I found another small ledge with my foot, dug it in, and then pushed myself upwards.

  In the city, there was nothing to climb other than brick façades and crumbling fire escapes. I felt the wind whip through my hair, and my eyes ran down the tattoos along my arms, no longer as meaningful as they once were. Back then, before my life changed, each one held something, a remembered moment in time or a warning to those looking at me. I didn’t hate the tattoos or regret them, but out there in Colorado, far away from anything that resembled my former life, in the clean Western air thousands of feet above the ground, they were just ink on skin, and nothing more.

  “How’s it going?” I called out. I adjusted my grip with my right hand and scanned the rock above me. I wasn’t far from the top.

  “Fine, and stop asking,” Darcy called out below me. I risked a glance down to make sure she really was fine, and saw her expertly pull herself up the sheer cliff face, body wrapped in the safety harness and rope system we used. The last spike was punched into the wall, and we were on the final climb of the day.

  I felt a bit dizzy taking in the drop. Everyone told me not to look down, but I couldn’t help it. If she was below me, I’d always look down. The trees looked like green blobs thousands of feet away, and I could make out roads and streams in the distance. It was unlike anything I had ever seen in Philadelphia, and it made me feel something I couldn’t quite express. I couldn’t believe we had only been climbing for a few months and were already tackling such difficult walls, but Darcy was an incredible competitor and pretty damned athletic, as it turned out. She had a hunger for the thrill, almost as much as I did. I savored the fear that coursed through my veins and gave me the final strength I needed to keep pushing further.

  After the fight, I was nearly dead. I finally caved and saw a doctor, which was apparently paid for by Shane Green. I had three broken ribs, a punctured lung, a broken nose, bruising all over the place, and a lacerated throat. The guy didn’t ask questions, and I guessed there was some extra money flowing his way to keep his mouth shut. He told me that my fighting days were probably over, at least for a while. I agreed. For a while.

  I reached up again, grabbed another rough edge, and pulled myself up. My feet easily found purchase, and I paused a second, mere feet from our goal. I breathed deeply, savoring the clean smell that flowed into my lungs, and exhaled. The sun was bright and low and the short breeze was cool against my damp skin. I loved the outdoors, as it turned out, and found it was easier to deal with my addictions out in the clean space of the West. I couldn’t say why that was, but I found my demons were quieter.

  They never found Michael, or at least they hadn’t before Darcy and I left. I guessed they never would. Michael probably had an escape plan the whole time, and when he saw me standing over his fighter, he knew it was time to eject. The piece of shit disappeared, though I couldn’t blame him for running. He was a dead man if he had stayed. I would have made damned sure of that. Sometimes I remembered his smug grin, and the way he pulled Darcy out of her apartment, right under my nose, and I felt my blood begin to boil. I would have done anything to find him and make him pay for what he did to her, but I knew I never would. Ruining his life and his position had to be enough.

  It took a while for Darcy to get over what happened. I gave her whatever space she needed, but I wasn’t ready to give up on her completely. One day, after a month, she asked me if I wanted to run away with her. A week later, we had everything we owned packed away and we were driving across the country. We were both free and ready to put the violence and the pain of the city behind us. Neither of us had any serious connections left, except for Darcy’s friends Amy and Shane. We eventually made it to their wedding, which was satisfyingly fancy. I felt out of place in a tux, but Darcy insisted that I looked great.

  We drove for weeks when we skipped town, and we had no idea where we wanted to go. We drifted from motel to motel, learning more about each other, and exploring each other’s bodies. I had never met someone as smart, sexy, and alive as Darcy, and she made me want to be a better person.

  I reached up again, grabbed another ledge, and climbed. I could see the lip, so incredibly close. I moved up again, reached, and slipped my fingers over the edge. I grabbed and pulled myself, using my legs and core to support my weight, and slowly shifted my body up and over.

  I shuffled onto the top plateau then rolled onto my back. My heart was pounding out of my chest with exertion and adrenaline. I felt better than I ever had,
lying on the top of that cliff, and I looked up at the beautiful, clean blue sky and forgot myself and the world around me, lost in my own sense of accomplishment and joy.

  After driving, we eventually stopped in Colorado, out near Boulder. There was no real reason for it, other than we had run out of money, and we were ready to start putting down roots. We both loved the flat beautiful expanses and the clean mountain air. Life was easier for us in Colorado. At first, Darcy worked as a waitress until she found a job working for the University of Colorado at Boulder doing PR for them. It didn’t pay as much as Adstringo did, but she loved being on a college campus again and loved her coworkers. I found a job at a nearby gym, working the front desk at first, but I quickly found out that I was good at motivating unmotivated people into working out. My personal training career was solid and satisfying. We lived comfortably in Boulder, among the hippies and the college kids.

  I didn’t fight anymore. I would have, but I didn’t need to. Instead, we channeled whatever rage or sadness we may have felt about what happened to us into rock climbing, hiking, snowboarding, and more. We wanted to live, and there was no better place than the vast plains and huge mountains. Darcy sometimes still had nightmares, and I held her while she shook in my arms until she calmed down, and we went back to sleep. I would be there for her until the day that I died.

  Birds moved across my field of vision as I remembered those first months with her again, driving across the country. We had nothing and nowhere to go, and life was perfect. We slept when we wanted, we got up when we wanted, and we did what we wanted. Life couldn’t continue on that way of course, but we had savings and we had no responsibilities. I had never been outside of the Philly area before, and the country spread out before us like a range of infinite possibilities. Through it all she was there, by my side, figuring out what she was and what she wanted. I knew well before I smashed Michael’s fighter’s face in that I was falling in love with her, but the days on the road made that more real and deeper than I could have predicted. I was never an emotional, sappy guy, but I was deep in love with that girl, and knew I always would be.