I already knew I was going, but I didn’t want him to know. I know, weird. I was kind of crushing on him though, and for some reason, I wasn’t ready for him to know that yet.
“Wish me luck?”
“Good luck. And Braxton… watch that pretty face,” I told him with a smile.
“I will, and my “thing” too.”
His grin grew from small to ginormous.
“You’re hopeless,” I told him.
“I know,” he replied.
Then he stepped out the door.
I quickly sprinted to my room to decide what to wear. I wasn’t sure what people wore to fights. This one was being held in an old warehouse outside of town though, and it was hot outside, so I opted for my favorite pair of cutoff Lucky jeans and a famous tank top that I had bought two summers ago, but I loved it. It was a hot pink color and had the famous symbol in black across the front. I wore a pair of Converse tennis shoes because I wasn’t sure if an old warehouse had a real floor or if it would be dirt. I didn’t want to end up with filthy feet.
Zoe got there and we put the directions Braxton had given me into her GPS. It was about a forty minute drive, and the neighborhood it led us too was definitely questionable. I started having visions of gangster fights and police raids. I told Zoe and she told me that I was getting carried away with my wild imagination. I hoped Braxton would save me if something terrible happened.
When we got to the door, we had to stand in a huge line of people. They were mostly young like us. A few of them looked older, and a little rough around the edges. It definitely wasn’t the type of place Zoe or I was used to going to.
When we got to the door, we had to give the two massive men standing there the flyer that Braxton had left with me. This fight was by invitation only, and if you didn’t have a flyer… an original, not a copy, you couldn’t get in. Plus the $25 you had to pay.
The place was packed though, so there must have been a lot of flyers handed out. It was all very underground and secretive. It made me feel a little seedy.
“It’s so loud in here,” Zoe said, covering her ears.
“I know, it’s crazy. I wonder if we can even find a seat.”
There were metal folding chairs set up, but there looked to be a lot more people than chairs. We pushed our way through the crowd a few times. We finally found two empty seats on the end of the row about three rows back from the ring, which was shaped like an octagon with a cage around it. There was a table set up on the far side of the octagon where I supposed the announcer and judges were. There were three men that rivaled the bouncers at the door in size and a guy that looked like a DJ who was dwarfed by them both. My guess was that he was the announcer.
After we had been there for about twenty minutes, the announcer told everyone to find a “spot.” It was another ten or fifteen minutes of chaos and then he announced that the promoter of the matches “Sam Killian” had a few words to say.
An older guy, but as big as the rest of them got on the mic and said, “Thank you all for coming. I hope you’re ready for a night of wild fighting like nothing you’ve ever seen before. I have sixty-four fighters for you to watch tonight. They come from all over and they are some of the toughest mother fuckers you will ever see, even if you regularly attend the ultimate fighting tournaments. Some of my guys put the so-called professionals to shame. The ultimate winner takes the title of Ultimate Underground Fighting champion and a purse of sixty four thousand dollars!”
A loud roar spread across the room.
“Each match will consist of three five-minute rounds, unless someone taps out before. The winner of that fight will fight the winner of the next one, and so on and so forth. The referee penalty calls will be final, and I’m sure you all met my friends at the door who are more than willing to help you find your way out if need be. The first fight will begin with the bell. Good luck to all!”
A few more minutes passed and the announcer called the first two fighters to the ring. They were young guys and built about like Braxton. Neither wore shirts or shoes and both wore slippery looking shorts. Their hands were wrapped up, and you could tell they had a mouth guard in. Zoe leaned over.
“It’s like a buffet.”
I had to laugh. Sometimes she was as much of a pervert as Braxton was.
The two guys met in the middle of the ring with the referee and after a few minutes of communing, the bell sounded. One guy went wild at the sound of the bell. It reminded me of watching a horse race and how the horses took off the second the gate was open, except this guy was literally pummeling the hell out of the other guy’s face. The guy who was getting his ass whooped suddenly seemed to realize what was happening and came at the other guy like a wild man. He was throwing punches and kicks, but they were wild ones and didn’t seem to be landing anywhere. I had to give it to him, though, he managed to take five minutes of getting beat in the face and never lost his footing.
When the bell rang again, he went to his corner and his trainer or whoever the guy was did his best to hydrate him and patch up his face. I was thinking about Braxton’s pretty face again.
“I don’t know if I could stand to sit and watch someone do that to Braxton’s face,” I told Zoe.
“You love him….”
“Shut up! It’s not love,” I told her.
“Lust!”
“Shut up!” I reiterated.
I know it wasn’t the snappiest of replies, but I could feel my face flush hot and I didn’t want to give her any more ammunition to use against me.
The match started again, and before the end of the second round, the guy who was getting beat tapped out. It was sad, kind of. The announcer had said he came all the way from Canada, and now he was knocked out in the first round.
We had to watch about ten more matches before it was finally Braxton’s turn. I could feel my heart racing in my chest as I watched him come out. He looked so good in a pair of green shorts that, believe it or not, matched his eyes. When he stepped into the ring, I swear every girl in the place under the age of thirty was screaming, cheering, and whistling. It was no wonder he was so full of himself when he went around getting receptions like this. As happy as I was to see him, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could sit through this. The big guy, the promoter of the show was in his corner with him. I thought that was a good sign and told Zoe so.
“Braxton makes that guy a ton of money. He finally took him under his wing. Braxton was fourth two years ago, and after Sam took him on, he moved up to second last year. I’m sure he’s shooting for first this time.”
“How do you know all of this?” I asked her.
“I’m curious, and I ask questions,” she said with a grin. “Besides, your boyfriend is the topic of many female discussions at the sorority house.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said, but I didn’t really like the way it had made me feel when she mentioned the entire sorority talking about him.
I think it was jealousy, and since I had only gone out on one tiny little so-called date with him, I wondered where it was coming from.
I watched as the bell rang and Braxton and his contender came out to the middle of the ring. As Braxton went out, I saw him glance around the warehouse, and I could swear that he made eye-contact with me. His lips curled into a little satisfied grin. I could have been imagining it because within seconds he and the other guy were trading jabs.
Braxton moved out of the way of two of the other fighter’s swings and then connected with a swift punch to the guy’s head. The other guy seemed to shake it off quickly, lunging forward and grabbing Braxton around the waist, propelling him back into the ropes. Braxton wriggled loose from the other guy’s hold and seemed to use his whole body to push him backwards off of him. Then he flexed his shoulders and advanced, looking confident, just before he received two quick blows to the head and a meaty punch. He didn’t go down, but he looked disoriented as the guy brought his elbow up and slammed it into the side of his head.
It was killing me to watch this. If I had brought a white towel with me, then I would have thrown it in myself. Braxton was still on his feet though, and after a quick shake of his head and dodging a few more knock-backs he engaged in a terse exchange of blows with the other guy. I was so relieved when the five minutes was over. To me it had seemed like fifteen. I couldn’t imagine how long it must seem in that stop-sign shaped ring.
I watched as Sam put ice on Braxton’s eyebrow, which seemed to be cut and swelling. He gulped down an energy drink and then Sam sponged him down, squeezing the water out of the sponge and letting it douse his hard body. I could see by a glance around the warehouse that the scene was enticing quite a few of the women in the place.
When the bell rang for round two, Braxton’s tactics changed. He now sought to pin the other guy down. He was avoiding the head punches, which had undoubtedly lost him the opening round, but was caught on the chin by an upper cut that caused him to lose his balance. He recovered though, and immediately returned with a kick to his opponent’s stomach, knocking him to the ground. The opponent reacted quickly however and grabbed Braxton’s legs as soon as he hit the floor, pulling him down with him. Now they were both grappling for the upper hand as the crowd got to their feet. I jumped up too because I couldn’t see, the whole time arguing with myself that I didn’t want to see. All I could see now were muscular arms and legs flailing as they each sought to pin the other down.
I was hoping once again that the five minutes would hurry and be over. The other fighter got ahold of Braxton’s arm and twisted it to the side, forcing him onto his front. Then the big son of a bitch sat on him, and if that wasn’t bad enough he put him in a headlock. I could feel my heart in my throat and I was so full of adrenaline that I could almost hear the blood as it pulsed through my veins.
The crowd was screaming, some of them for Braxton to get up, and others were telling him to give it up and tap out. I didn’t know anything about this underground fighting stuff, but as bad as I wanted him to be okay, I also wanted him to win. Not because it mattered to me, but I got a real sense from him that this was an important match that he really wanted to win. I suddenly heard myself yelling along with those who so desperately wanted him to get up and fight. Zoe leaned over close to my ear.
“This isn’t what I expected. Everyone says that he was supposed to be the one to beat tonight.”
“He’s not beat,” I told her. “He’s going to get that big SOB off of him and get up!”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BRAXTON
I don’t know how in the hell it happened. I was face down on the floor with a guy named “Needle Nose” sitting on my back and pressing his beefy arm into my windpipe, trying to get me to tap out. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I knew this guy was tough. Sam had warned me it wouldn’t be an easy match, but even if it took all three rounds, I had gone into this with no doubt that I was going to come out on top.
This was Emmi’s fault. Since I’d gotten into the octagon and saw her sitting there with her blonde friend, looking like a million bucks in a pink tank top and cutoff jeans, I hadn’t really been able to keep my head in the ring… I let this jerk-off get the upper hand while I mooned over some chick I wanted to lay. I would be sure to hear about it from Sam when this was over.
I struggled to get my head up from where my opponent had it smashed into the floor. When I did, two things happened: First, the choke hold the guy had me in tightened and made me suddenly feel like I couldn’t breathe, and second, I saw Emmi’s face. She looked upset or distressed, like she was almost considering running up and helping me. Something about that look, those gorgeous dark eyes looking at me like they actually saw me, and still gave a shit, made me want to get this dick-weed off my back, and quick. I don’t know how I did it, but as soon as I felt him loosen his arm muscles so that I could take a breath, I felt a burst of super human strength.
I bucked my body hard enough to knock him sideways just far enough to use my arms to push myself up. When I had them off the floor I grabbed him and we wrestled around again for only seconds before I was able to flip him over and pin him down. I wanted him to tap out before the bell. I felt an overwhelming desire to kiss a beautiful brunette, and I wanted to do it right now. But my contender would have to give up first.
I choked him hard, maybe a little too hard, before I released pressure. I did that three times, all the while with my knee in his back before he finally couldn’t take anymore, and he tapped out. The ref called it, and I released him and stood up, adrenaline now coursing through my veins like Dale Earnhardt on a speedway.
He held up my arm as the announcer said my name and “winner” repeatedly. The crowd was wild, they were screaming my name and girls were actually reaching through the cage trying to touch me. I could feel the cold sweat dripping off my body as the ref turned me in a three hundred sixty degree angle so that everyone could get a look at the winner.
When he turned me in the right direction, I looked out and saw Emmi. She was cheering too. I couldn’t hear her of course over the roar of the crowd, but it looked like she was saying my name along with the rest of them. When our gazes met, she smiled widely and gave me a thumbs up sign.
She was so fucking cute.
I pounded my chest with my fists like King Kong. I couldn’t help it, I felt like a giant animal on top of the Empire State building all of a sudden. Sam was trying to talk to me, but I couldn’t hear him. All I could hear in my head was the roar of the crowd, and all I could see in front of me was Emmi.
I stepped out of the octagon and into the crowd. I could feel hands on my sweat-soaked body as I barreled through, but I only had one thing in mind. I made a path through the bodies to where Emmi stood.
When I reached her I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulled her against me and crushed her lips with mine. She was tense at first, but I swear she loosened up after a few seconds. I finally knew what the phrase “reckless abandon” meant. I was risking a knee to the groin, or a slap to the face. But my groin was covered and my face was already bruised and bloody. Most of all, I just didn’t care because I realized as I tasted her sweet lips that I had never worked harder for a kiss. I don’t know if the knowledge of that was what caused the fireworks to explode in my head, or if it just tasted that fucking good.
When I reluctantly let her go, she was looking at me with eyes as big as saucers. I could see the shock and confusion on her face. The crowd was still on their feet, and still screaming my name. I should have felt bad that I caught her off guard like that in front of a room full of people, but I didn’t. I felt energized, and alive. I was on my way to fight in the top thirty-two and I just had the most passionate kiss of my life.
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