by Sandy Kline
“Is everything in here brand new? No don’t tell me, you bought all this in anticipation of tonight didn’t you?”
“Yeah I just don’t use it often.”
“The house or the bed?”
“Both.” He replies.
“First I was in the amateur circuit, then with Cold Steel for 20 months so most of my time is either spent at the gym, in a cage fight somewhere, or in a hotel room. I’ve had the house for two years. I really should sell it. If I don’t get signed soon I’m going to be hard up to pay for the mortgage.”
“Alright, enough shop talk.” I reply as I lay down on his bedspread.
Jake walks up to the bed undressing me the rest of the way with his bulging eyes and stiffening cock. The thought of having his cock inside me again is practically enough to make me jump off the bed and tear his clothes off. But I keep my cool and wait for him to disrobe.
Our sex play is pretty much like our pre sex banter, light and meaningless. Both aware that we don’t have a lot of time, we get down to business fast. Sometimes you need foreplay and sometimes you just need to get to it. We get to it. Jake’s body is like Disneyland to me. It’s exciting as hell and worth the wait! We take as much time as we dare before jumping into his shower to was away the obvious. Out of respect to Jamarcus I don’t want to come back smelling like sex. But more important than the sex, it was just nice to re-connect with him. With all these confusing memories coming up I felt like I’m beginning to lose him and I don’t want that at all. My intuition tells me he is a good man. Diego tells me the same and I know he’s spot on about people who come into his life. Anyone doesn’t feel right to him and he’ll tell me right away. Suddenly I remember something out of the blue. He didn’t like Taylor. I don’t remember how we met or why I started hanging around with her but I do recall her coming over to a hotel we were at and Diego did not want anything to do with her. I should have taken notice.
After we get back, the four of us hang around, mainly for Diego’s benefit. He obviously had a great time with Jamarcus and did get a short lesson. When we come in they are both playing some shooter video game and laughing and carrying on. Looks like Diego wasn’t the only one getting a lesson tonight. I’ll be glad when I have figured out what the hell I’m doing in California and I can go back to my normal life. Then another thought strikes me right between the eyes. Does that normal life I’m thinking of contain Jake in it? His world is the California MMA Blood Sport MMA scene while mine is in Oregon. Diego has to get back to school and I have to…to do whatever I was doing before my brain got scrambled.
That can wait. Tomorrow Jake has a fight and he’s bound to need some assistance afterwards and I want to provide that. Jake and Jamarcus say their goodbyes and I get to the business of getting Diego ready for bed. It’s been a nice night…a very nice one indeed.
Chapter Thirteen
Sucker Punch
The Next Day…
Tonight’s event is in San Francisco and I’m told to expect the unexpected. San Francisco is a very liberal city and the things that pass for normal here would land you in jail in most other states. I just hope it doesn’t land Jake there. I can tell Jake is pretty stressed about tonight’s fight. After the fiasco the other day with the blindfolded all for one and one for all massacre he really needs to give a good accounting of himself. For tonight’s fights I have been given a press pass. Not that there’ll even be press here but it’s nice to be close enough to taste the blood when it gets spattered across your face.
Right away something is off. There are eight fighters scheduled to fight tonight yet the length of tonight’s event makes it sound like only two bouts are taking place. It doesn’t take long for the announcer to clear up any confusion.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Mass Attack, tonight’s main and only event. As advertised, there will only be two fights, each lasting three one minute rounds and each fight has four fighters at the same time.”
A hush comes over the crowd as everyone tries to make sense of what we’re being told. I don’t like the sound of Mass Attack at all.
“Two lucky… or unlucky, depending on how you view it, fighters will have the chance to participate in a sanctioned fight for Surge, Crossfire, or Cold Steel!” That’s right. Tonight we’ll fast track the careers of two fighters if they survive the chaos of the Octagon.”
The announcer drones on explaining how it will work. Back stage all eight fighters drew straws. The two who drew the short straws are the two men who will be getting the chance to a real fight for some real money. In the first fight the man with the short straw will defend himself against the other three fighters in his group. Impress the sponsors and you land yourself one fight for one of the three organizations represented today.
I hold my breath both hoping that Jake draws the short straw and praying he doesn’t. That last fight was just two on one and he got his ass handed to him. How the hell is he going to do up against three guys this time? Then there is the twist. Any fighter who knocks out the short straw holder during the bout gets to take his place and the chance for the sanctioned money fight. I know they threw that in to motivate the other three guys to really go after the odd man out. As much as I don’t want Jake to be the short straw guy, that is his best chance to change his life. He could end up with a contract not only for an exhibition fight but a longer contract as a regular fighter on Surge’s card. Even one of the other two organizations would be huge. This going to be one crazy night!
After the rules have been read the crowd goes quiet as the announcer says the names of the four fighters who are the first event of the evening.
“For fight number one.” The announcer says. “The man drawing the short straw ladies and gentleman, Oakland’s own man of mayhem, The Punisher!”
The crowd screams in a frenzy, so loud my ears buzz painfully in my head. I can’t believe this. Jake is going to have to fight three men determined to knock his ass out so they can get their chance at fame and fortune. I don’t even hear the names of the other three fighters. It makes no difference to me who’s gunning for my man.
For the purposes of the fight, Jake is the good guy and the other three are the bad guys whose job it is to destroy the good guy; my guy Jake. Each round is an agonizing 90 seconds long. That doesn’t seem like much, but when you have 3 other guys whose careers depend on destroying you 90 seconds can be an eternity. I look over to where Jamarcus is standing. Jake is leaning over listening to the old man’s last minute instructions. What could he possibly be telling Jake that would make a difference at this point in the evening?
The lights around the hall grow even darker as the lights on the stage intensify. Four very determined looking men climb onto the stage and then are let in the cage door by one of the referees. There are actually three refs in the cage for tonight’s fight as well as two medical personnel standing just outside the cage. At the base of the stage are two gurneys ready to take away fighters to the closest hospital. They expect this to be one brutal event tonight. I’m glad I wasn’t up there with Jamarcus when he was talking to Jake. I would have begged him not to fight. As the four men listen to the head refs final instructions I notice something. Jake’s three opponents are dressed in black shorts and black mini gloves; or whatever those things are called. Jake is dressed head to toe in red so there will be no confusing who is fighting with whom.
The ref has each man stand and put their right hand in so that all four have one glove touching the other men’s gloves. The ref places his hand on top. He opens his mouth to give one last instruction or something when the man to Jake’s right takes a little step backwards while turning to face Jake. That backwards step and transfer of body weight, along with the spinning motion means his first strike is gonna land like a freight train and it does. Before the referee even has the chance to start the fight the man called Bulldog spins and sucker punches Jake right in the face. I watch in horror as Jake’s head snaps back like a bobble head doll. He as he stumbles back, reeli
ng from the preemptive strike. Immediately the other three fighters, sensing weakness proceed to pounce. I remember a saying that my ex once related to me.
‘It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog. The question that’s about to be answered…is there enough fight in the dog that is Jake The Punisher?’
King also taught me that in a fight your biggest muscle…your biggest weapon is your mind. Your mind can either control your body or your body can control your mind and for those whose body controls their mind, you’ll never become a good fighter. I watch three men launching themselves at Jake all but rabidly frothing and foaming at the mouth in their to eagerness to destroy their opponent. Maybe to the screaming fans it’s just a game, but they’re not the ones who are tasked with putting a fighter back together after he’s had an ass kicking. I wanna scream at the Jake’s opponents to stop but stopping or mercy at any level is not in the rules of the game. I just hope that Jake can tap into whatever strength he has inside and come out fighting. Whatever he does he’d better do it fast.
I can’t even see Jake, just a flurry of fists with an occasional kick thrown in there. I don’t see any punches land but I can see the matt around the four men is turning pink, then medium red and on to dark read as blood thickens around and beneath the combatants.
And then it happens! One of the guys that is bent over and pummeling Jake has his head rocked back violently and with so much force he lands flat on his back; arms and legs akimbo. That’s a fighter that’s not getting back up. Abruptly a bloody red man launches himself up as he leaps into the closest standing fighter, driving his knee into the man’s ribs with crushing force. That man is literally lifted two feet off the matt where he falls on his hands and knees briefly before collapsing motionless. As he drops Jake whirls around to position himself behind his last opponent. The turnabout has been so stunningly fast that he’s able to get behind his attacker. He grabs the man’s long hair with his left hand while his right one grabs the man’s chin. Jake spins around simultaneously yanking down and turning the man’s head and driving the man head first into the matt. As the final fighter hits headfirst on the matt his body gives one violent jerking motion before going still.
Jake steps back and raises his arms and roars a tremendous animalistic roar of triumph. The sight and sound gives me the chills and my whole body tingles in awe. Jake just keeps turning round and round acknowledging the crowds screams! I cannot believe what I am seeing. I have seen many fights over the seven years I was married to an MMA fighter. I have never seen a fight like this. Then the cage door opens and medical personnel rush in to tend to the three fallen fighters who still have yet to stir. The scene in front of me is surreal. The head referee has Jake by the right hand and is lifting it up in the air declaring him the victor. Despite the fact that the fight only lasted 45 seconds into the first round the ref has stopped the bout on account that Jake’s three opponents are in need of immediate transport to a local emergency room.
It’s a full ten minutes later and after the other three men have been removed that the ruckus finally dies down. Jake clambers off the stage and is immediately met by two men in expensive suits. They escort Jake back to the locker rooms. He told me I should just go on home after the fight and he would check in with me later. I’m reluctant to leave but I also know there’s no way I’m getting back into the locker rooms. A sea of rabid fans lies between me and where Jake disappeared. Resigned to the fact that I won’t see him for quite a while I return to my hotel where Diego is still awake despite the late hour.
“Did you hear what happened at the fights?” Diego asks immediately.
“I know who won the first bout.” I reply.
“You hear about the losers?”
“They went to the hospital.” I reply. “Beyond that I don’t know anything else sweetie.”
“The news just said two of them died before they made it to the hospital. The third guy is gonna live,”
“Oh my god…I wonder if Jake knows this. I doubt it. He may come over tonight sweetie. I don’t want you spilling the beans about the other fighters. Jake was put into an awful situation and had he not fought for his life like he did, he would be at the hospital dead instead of the other guys.”
“He killed them mom.” Diego says. “What if they have families? Maybe they’re married and have kids. What if they do mom? Do those men have people who love them or are they bad men?”
“I don’t know sweetie, but I bet they have moms that are going to be very sad tonight. But don’t you go talking like this when Jake gets home; here. When he gets here. He’s going to need medical attention sweetie. It was very bad tonight. The worst I have ever seen sweetie. He may not know that two of his opponents died so please, don’t go bringing that up and if he says anything or asks anything about them don’t say a peep.”
“Jake’s gonna be alright though right?”
“This is his world honey. He’ll adjust. He’ll be fine.”
After a little while Diego gets all talked out and falls asleep so I go into the living room and pour a glass of wine and wait. Maybe an hour later there’s a soft knocking on the door. I look out the peephole and see Jake standing in his sweats leaning on Jamarcus. I throw back the chain and open the door immediately. The two men come in and I lead them over to the couch. Once seated Jamarcus brings out an ice bag from his own quasi medical kit and instructs Jake where it’s most needed. I can tell Jamarcus is concerned, but there’s something else in the air tonight.
“Are you gonna make me pry it out of you?” I finally ask them.
A big smile breaks out over their faces.
“He did it!” Jamarcus exclaims.
“We did it.” Jake corrects.
“So you’re gonna get to do an exhibition fight for Cold Steel?” I ask, barely able to contain my excitement.
“Oh no, it’s more than that.” Jamarcus brags.
“What?” I ask.
“Jake here just signed on to finish the year with Surge. And get this…they’ve already scheduled him for three fights.”
“Are you kidding me?”
I can’t believe this. Surge is the West’s premiere MMA organization. You make a splash with Surge and you might find yourself signed with Blindside, Contender, or even Rage, New York’s top flight MMA organizations.
“So when’s your first fight? Who will you be fighting? You’re not going to have to be doing any more of these bullshit blindfolded ten on one circuses anymore right?” I ask, praying silently that those days are behind us…him, behind him.
“That’s in the past now.” Jamarcus confirms.
The trainer is doing most of the talking now. I think it just hurts too much for Jake to talk right now.
“Jake has 6 weeks to prepare for his debut fight.” Jamarcus says. “They wanted to assign him a new trainer but Jake wouldn’t hear it.
“He’s the best.” Jake says beneath the ice bag across his mouth. “Why would I switch?”
“So who’s his first opponent?” I ask.
“You might want to sit down for this one.” Jake advises.
“Who?”
“Jake is taking over another fighter’s schedule.” Jamarcus begins. “The fighter Jake is going to be fighting Robert. Well, that’s not completely true. He was going to fight King of Pain until he disappeared. Boomer is taking King’s fights for now unless King shows up.”
I can feel my heart dropping down into the soles of my shoes. Robert is still missing and I may…no, probably had a hand in that if memories can be trusted. Pretty soon there’s gonna be cops everywhere looking for Robert and I’m sure they’ll be asking me about him as well and with me having huge gaps in my memory it’s not going to bode well for me.
I gotta ask. “Why haven’t the police been all over this?”
“Because he’s done this before.” Jamarcus replies. “He’s probably somewhere injecting himself and pumping iron. He’ll turn up a week before the fight with tw
ice the muscle mass and thrice the attitude. He’ll be ready to fight but this time he’s been replaced by your man Jake here. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
“So what do you think about Jake’s chances with Boomer?”
“What the hell do you think?” Jamarcus asks, slightly offended.
“Boomer’s not like the guys he’s been fighting in this blood sport stuff.” I reply.
“We know that.” Jamarcus replies. “Boomer has about forty plus pounds and a three inch reach advantage. He can be fast, but Jake’s quite a bit faster. Boomer hasn’t fought in over three months while Jake here has had two fights a month in the last five months. Jake is primed and ready. Boomer is not.” Jamarcus concludes.
“He going to heal enough?” I ask.
“He may be a little bruised still but he doesn’t have any fractures or torn muscles, or anything that might otherwise hurt his performance. Trust me Christine, your man here is going to be primed and ready. This is his big break. After this fight no one’s going to remember his professional debut anymore. Jake’s life is about to change dramatically; dramatically in a good way.”
Jake leans over and whispers something in Jamarcus’ ear. The old trainer smiles and turns to me.
“Why don’t you kids go back to Jake’s so he can shower and get all doctored up? I can stay here and keep an eye on the little man. You guys sleep in and come over whenever. I’ll order room service in the morning for Diego and I. What’s he like for breakfast?”
“French toast, eggs medium, and hash browns.”
“Me too. Don’t you worry Christine, we’ll get along famously.”
Before leaving I check in on Diego. He is fast asleep. I give him a peck on his forehead and close the door on the way out. I give Jake’s trainer last minute instructions then grab my overnight bag/backpack and Jake and I head for the hotel lobby to hail a cab. I have a feeling this night is going to be a special one. Now if I can just push thoughts about my ex-husband out of my mind and I’ll be golden.
