Fight for Her #2

by JJ Knight

  “It was nothing.” I’m surprised he doesn’t call me out on telling my own trainer, Brazen, that the whole thing was an “accident.” I should have just owned up to the fight.

  Jo steps into the room from the back. “Killjoy, come show these fighters a proper side snap. They’re making fun of mine.”

  “They’ll be doing side snaps until their legs fall off,” Killjoy says, heading toward her.

  “Killjoy lives for those new girls,” Colt says. “I can’t get him to pay attention to this old sack of bones for five minutes.”

  That sack of bones is the current light heavyweight MMA champion.

  Colt stands and claps me on the back. “I’ll buzz Doc if you’re going to be sticking around a while.”

  “All right.” I follow Colt as he heads out of the weight room and toward the office. We pass Buster on the way.

  “You all right, Power Play?” he asks. “You took some licks.”

  I wave my hand in the air and keep walking. This is getting old fast.

  When we’re in the office, I ask Colt, “How does everybody know about the fight? It was nothing big.”

  He opens a case and flips on a tablet. “A video about it got prominently placed. Right here.”

  The home page of a popular MMA site loads up. Front and center is the video Camryn showed me on the bus. I glance at the view count. Over a hundred thousand.

  “So I probably won’t be able to get squat for fights over there,” I say. Damn it.

  “No such thing as bad publicity,” Colt says. He scrolls down. “This got added today.”

  Another video. Me, wearing an old set of fight shorts I haven’t owned in years, heading into the cage of a venue that doesn’t even exist anymore.

  At first I’m wondering if footage has surfaced from the old fight, the one that made Maddie run four years ago. Maybe somebody out there thinks it’s funny to keep the gag rolling with all my embarrassing defeats.

  I don’t get paid enough for this humiliation.

  But then a pulsing rock soundtrack kicks in and the next cut shows me taking down Brute Force, a guy who ended up retiring after our match.

  A text box pops up that reads Power Play win: 3 minutes, 2 seconds.

  Then another. Me plowing into some guy I don’t even remember.

  Power Play win: 2 minutes, 44 seconds.

  It keeps going, showing dozens of takedowns, all stacked up with the counter. By the time you get to number 30, the win time is down to 44 seconds. That was my fastest victory, just a few months ago.

  “You’ve got a big fan out there,” Colt says. “Took some time to make this and submit it to every single MMA site. It finally got picked up.”

  I squint at the user name. It’s a jumble of characters and numbers. “Well, that’s cool.”

  “Sometimes taking a hard lick means people notice,” he says. “That guy who beat you just got fast-tracked, but you’re not far behind.”

  He shuts off the tablet. “People are calling for a rematch.”

  Well, hell. I lean against the doorframe. I feel out of the loop on my own career. “Are we doing it?”

  “Brazen called this morning. That guy Blitzkrieg isn’t game,” he says. “If somebody throws enough money at it, though, he might budge.” He pulls out his phone and taps out a message. “We have to make sure you’re up for it, anyway. You really going to fight on Friday? You look like hell.”

  “Plan to.”

  Colt waits a second, watching the screen. “Doc’s on his way. We’ll see what he says. Things are popping.” He stands up. “I think you’ll shake this off all right, career wise.”

  “It broke my streak.”

  “Yeah, but it got you a hell of a lot of promotion juice. That’s worth gold. Anybody can win. Not just anybody can draw a crowd.”

  I back into the hall, out of his way. Those ridiculous plaques Delores hung in her hall were right.

  Success begins today. Failure is not an option.

  Chapter 9: Parker

  It takes some convincing, but Doc clears me to fight. He drives me to the medical center and has some eye doctor take pictures of my optic nerve to be sure. But everything’s all right. The minute I walk in my apartment that night, I call Maddie to tell her I’m okay and that everyone’s calling for a rematch between me and Blitzkrieg.

  She’s quiet for a minute, and I have to check the phone to make sure the call hasn’t dropped.

  Finally, she says, “I filled out that application for you.”

  I swallow hard to get around the lump in my throat. “That’s good.”

  “I had to fudge some stuff.” She laughs a little. “I wasn’t sure what your job title should be.”

  “Badass mother,” I say.

  She’s got a smile in her voice that makes me feel hopeful that everything is going to be okay between us. “You’re definitely that.”

  Damn it, I miss being there already. I pace the apartment, the phone pressed against my ear. I don’t have a bunch of annoying roommates anymore. It’s just me here. I kick a bunch of clothes on the floor into a corner.

  “I wish I was back there,” I manage to say.

  “Me too,” Maddie says. “You really going to fight this weekend?”

  “How did you know about that?” Everybody knows all my business.

  “You’re all over the MMA sites.”

  “You look at those?”

  She laughs a little. “I do now. I saw that girl who did the video on you. You know her?”

  I stop pacing. “A girl did it?”

  “Yeah, she’s apparently training to fight. She has a profile. You didn’t click?” Maddie’s trying to play it cool, but I can hear a note in her voice, something a little off.

  “No. I barely even saw it when the guys at the gym showed it to me.”

  “She’s cute. Frizzy hair. A pixie face. Goes by High Tide.”

  Camryn. I flash to her on the bus, showing me the video. And a week ago, coming up into the cage to get me to spar with her.

  “I know her,” I say. “She trains with Jo, my buddy Colt’s girl.”

  “So you do know her.” Now her voice goes a shade higher.

  This is good, I think. She’s jealous. Worried. She suddenly gives a damn.

  “Barely. She’s around but I don’t pay much attention.”

  “You dated any fighter girls?” Maddie asks.

  Now we’re in dangerous territory. I don’t need a flashing red bulb to tell me to shut the hell up. “Nah. I don’t really date anybody.”

  Maddie’s quiet, and I hope this is the right answer. And it’s mostly true. I stick to one-nighters, girls who want a shot at a fighter but don’t hang around. It’s worked out for Colt to have a fighter girlfriend, but now that I think about it, I’m not so sure about me. If someone took a punch at Maddie, even in a ring, I don’t think I could handle it.

  Probably that’s the way she feels about me.

  Damn.

  I have to turn this around. “Hey,” I say. “Let me figure out my schedule and I’ll get a ticket to go back out there. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she says.

  “Is Lily asleep?” I ask.

  “She conked out waiting to talk to you.”

  “Can you put her on video?”

  “Sure.”

  After a second, the video request comes through. Then I see her, Lily, out cold on the sofa in the living room. She’s wearing a princess nightgown and her pink boxing gloves.

  “Goodnight, sweetheart,” I say.

  Maddie turns the phone to herself. She looks tired, and maybe a little wary. “I’ll let you know if anything happens with the application,” she says.

  I nod. “Sounds like a plan.”

  She watches me a moment. I want to joke with her, tell her to flash me, do something to break up this intense thing going on. But I don’t. Instead, I just say, “Goodnight,” and wait for her to end the call.

  Being back in LA is both good and bad. I miss he
r, but I can see I need to clear my head. I have to figure out how to handle all these competing things. The security job. The training job. The fights. Where I want to live, how I can move.

  I can only hope she’ll accept me if I decide to keep fighting.

  Chapter 10: Parker

  Training that week is torture. Brazen seems to want to punish me for doing a fight without him. And taking four days off from training after getting a beat down was not especially smart¸ even if I had been half-blind.

  Jo’s teenage brother, Hudson, flies in from Hawaii. He’s seventeen and eager to work hard. Since everyone else is pretty busy, I take him on. Apparently Colt’s team started training him during rehab. He’s got a lot of spirit, even if his muscle mass resembles the stick end of a fairy wand.

  Hell, I just made a mental reference to a little girl’s toy.

  Hudson and I spend hours a day sparring, getting in and out of grapples, and doing thousands of speed reps and kicks.

  I abandon the flying knee strike Panther taught me. I figure I need to go back to what worked, trust my gut.

  Besides, somebody’s made an animated GIF of that move that I’m not going to escape if I live to be six hundred years old. I’ve quit logging into Facebook, deluged with tags on the damn thing. Colt says there’s no such thing as bad publicity, but I don’t know if I can handle the humiliation much longer.

  The day before the fight, Colt comes up to the ring while I’m sparring with the kick coach he’s assigned to me. “Let’s take five,” he says. “Something’s come up with the fight.”

  I motion Hudson to take my place and head out of the cage. I feel a little anxious. Surely they’re not pulling out of the match tomorrow over my bad press.

  Colt sits on a bench at the base of the cage. “We’re putting Max Out in the fight tomorrow.”

  Damn it. I knew it. “What the hell for?” I ask. I’m so pissed off, my head feels like it’s going to pop off. I need that fight. I want to buy another ticket to New York.

  “We got something better,” Colt says. “I can’t risk you getting too banged up.”

  I sit down next to him, trying to calm down. “What’s going on?”

  “I told you publicity juice is more important than almost anything, as long as you have the talent to back it up,” Colt says, adjusting the wraps on his hands. “And that Blitzkrieg would cave if they threw enough money at him.”

  “So we’re doing a rematch?”

  “Yup.”

  “Back in Jersey?”

  “Nope.”

  Colt is holding out on me. He’s still looking down at his hands, tightening the wraps.

  I’m getting irritated. “You gonna say what it is or just keep flirting with me?”

  Colt’s smile goes wide. “We’re having to clear Brazen’s schedule, because you two are going to Vegas.”

  I jump off the bench. “Get outta town!”

  “They’ve put you in as a special exhibition before a round of official bouts.”

  I punch at the air. Unbelievable. Vegas. That’s big. “How did this happen?”

  “Blitzkrieg made a lot of noise about getting Viper’s spot in the league. Viper’s been on a losing streak.”

  “So how did it involve me?”

  “With all the publicity you’ve gotten, they figure this is going to go wild on pay-per-view.”

  I don’t know what to think. It’s a huge leap. “So if it’s exhibition, what’s in it for the win?”

  “The winner of the match challenges Viper for a league slot.” Colt claps me on the back. “You’re about to hit the big time.”

  I try not to think too far ahead about what could happen if I win. I won’t psyche myself out. Or get cocky. I’m not going to make any of the same mistakes as last time. Blitzkrieg may have gotten me pretty solid in our match, but he is not unbeatable. I just have to want it more than he does.

  And not use any stupid undefendable moves.

  “When’s it scheduled?” I wonder wildly if Maddie can come. If she would.

  But she already saw Blitzkrieg make mincemeat out of my face.

  Maybe not.

  Maybe she shouldn’t. My last two matches with her in the crowd didn’t exactly go well.

  Now I’m feeling superstitious.

  But Maddie in Vegas. The posh hotels. The lights of the Strip. It could be like a honeymoon.

  Shit, we could get married. By Elvis.

  And my brain’s gone off the deep end again, thinking about the win. What I just said I wouldn’t do.

  “You still with us, Parker?” Colt shoves at my shoulder. “I said the match is in two weeks. Brazen’s going over the contract. Win or lose, you can probably get your car back.”

  “Screw the car. I’m getting married,” I say, and without even helping Colt out with his utterly confused expression, I take off for the dressing room and my phone so I can tell Maddie.

  * * *

  I only get to leave a voice mail for Maddie, since it’s the middle of the day. I don’t tell her the secret, just that it’s good news.

  My workouts that afternoon are crazed and fuel injected. By the time I get home that afternoon, I’m full of all the possibilities this could mean.

  I could make the league.

  Decent money, maybe big money.

  Maddie could move. She wouldn’t have to work.

  No Delores.

  Lily could have anything.

  I pace my apartment, waiting for her to call me back. I don’t know if I should ask her about getting married. Or propose. Or just kill that idea. She’ll want her mom at her wedding. And Delores. Maddie never seemed like a big wedding sort of girl before, but she may have changed. Lily can get a pretty dress, be the flower girl.

  Damn, I’m nuts with this. Next thing I’ll be signing up for one of those annoying wedding sites.

  A ring. I need a ring.

  I’m so heavy into this line of thought that when my phone buzzes, I almost miss it. I race across the room, tripping over my own damn mess, and snatch it up before it rolls to voice mail.

  “Maddie?”

  “Hey, Parker. You all right?”

  Maddie sounds a little breathless herself.

  “Yeah, I’m great. Is Lily okay?”

  “She’s fine. Over at Amanda’s.”

  “I have great news,” I say.

  “So do I!” Maddie counters.

  I wonder what is going on with her.

  “You go first,” Maddie says.

  But now I’m dying to know what hers could be. A promotion? Would she not want to leave and be with me then? Can I train in New York if I’m in a league? I should have asked Colt about this.

  So I’m anxious.

  “No, you go first,” I say.

  “Okay,” Maddie says. “The security job is yours! They took one look at your profile and knew you’d be perfect! Of course, I told them you’d be great. Nobody’s going to mess with YOU.”

  My mouth goes dry. Maddie got me a job? I suddenly recall her telling me about applying for a position in her building. How we could commute together.

  “Parker? You there? Isn’t it great? Now you can be here.” Her voice starts to trail off. “We can be together, the three of us.”

  I picture myself in some office building, wearing a goofy uniform, nodding to people as they pass by my desk. Sitting all day. Signing people in. Checking their badges. Calling upstairs to ask if someone really has an appointment.

  I can’t do it.

  I know I can’t.

  “It actually pays pretty well since it’s in the city,” Maddie goes on, a little uncertainly. “The first couple months you’ll be on evenings, but they assured me they would move you to days as soon as they could. And you could take Lily to school. She’d love that.”

  Night work?

  I don’t know what to say.

  Then I remember that morning four years ago when I got out of the hospital, jaws wired shut, my body one giant nasty ache. I had tak
en the worst loss of my life, and I wanted Maddie. She wouldn’t answer her phone. Or any texts.

  I walked up and down the street in front of her house, sure she was going to come outside. Her mother wouldn’t let me in, wouldn’t talk to me.

  I must have paced that stretch of road fifty times before two of my buddies came to force me into a car to go home. Maddie was gone, one said, somebody whose girlfriend had talked to Maddie earlier that day. She wasn’t coming back.

  I punched a wall in the living room like it was a heavy bag, bashing a big hole in it and tearing up my hands.

  It was weeks before I knew where she’d gone, if she was okay, if the baby was all right. By then, I’d figured out how to live without her. Decided I was better off.

  The first time I lost her, I let her go.

  This time I know better.

  The fight doesn’t matter. I won’t be fighting forever.

  Maddie is forever.

  And I don’t want to live without her.

  So I know what I have to do.

  “That sounds good, Maddie, real good,” I say. “When do they want me to get there?”

  She makes this startled sort of hiccup sound, like she didn’t expect me to answer. Her words shake a little. “Whenever you want. There’s paperwork. They can send it to you. You can take a couple weeks to get situated.”

  “That works. You gave them my address?” I keep my voice straight and even.

  “I did.” She hesitates. “You sure about this?”

  “I am,” I say. “I’m glad it worked out.”

  “I’m not sure about Delores. Living arrangement.” Her voice dies out again.

  “We’ll figure it out,” I say. “It will be fine.”

  She hesitates a second, then forces a lilt to her voice. “So what’s your news?”

  Hell. I try to think fast. I won’t lie. But I don’t want to tell her about Vegas. I can’t let her know what I’m giving up.

  “My fight tomorrow got changed around. I’ll have more time to heal,” I say.

  “That’s good!” Maddie says. “You feeling better?”

  “Yeah,” I say, but my brain is in a million other places. “A little twinge here and there, but nothing another few days won’t fix up.”