Dirty Cowboy

by Alycia Taylor

  When I woke up several hours later, I had an entirely different outlook on things than I’d had when I fell asleep the night before. I love Dad, but he was wrong. I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for life to happen to me. I wasn’t going to wait for tomorrow any longer to go after what I wanted. Poor Emma had so many plans…and now she doesn’t have any more tomorrows. I got up out of bed and put on my robe and slippers. I went out into the dining room and found Daddy there, reading the morning paper. I kissed him on the cheek and said, “Good morning.”

  He looked surprised, but he smiled and said, “Good morning, pumpkin. How did you sleep?”

  I poured a cup of coffee and sat down. “At first, not so well. But I did a lot of thinking and this morning, I had an epiphany.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You will still love me, even if you don’t approve of the risks I choose to take with my heart…and I will still love you even if you don’t approve of my choices in men. I really like, Ian Daddy. I’m not going to give him up out of fear that it won’t work out. I’m going to pour my whole heart into it and do whatever it takes to make it work. If it doesn’t, I’ll survive. But I’ll survive with the experience and the wisdom that only comes with living through a heart ache and moving on. I hope and pray that nothing bad ever happens to him, but I really think that’s true in any relationship. Look at what happened with Emma, Dad. No one expected that. It can happen to anyone. I have to do this, I want to be with Ian. I hope that I can pursue a relationship with him with your blessing. ”

  He surprised me then, he nodded. “I thought about things all night too. I’m sorry, baby. I know that my experience with your mom really screwed me up. I should have probably done some counseling or something over it. But the point is that none of that has anything to do with you. I want you to be happy and if Ian makes you happy, then you have my blessing. I’ll even apologize to him when I see him again. I’m truly sorry.”

  “You don’t know how happy that makes me,” I told him. “Thank you, Daddy. I love you.”

  “I love you too, baby girl.” I got up and kissed him and said, “Do we have any poster paper?”

  He smiled. “Going to the big fight armed with a sign, are you?”

  “You bet. I’m going to watch my boyfriend win a title tonight.”

  “Poster paper is in the cabinet in my office. Tell Ian I said good luck.” I kissed his cheek again. I was happy. For the first time since Emma died, I felt like things were finally coming together.

  Chapter Seven

  Ian

  I stood at the back of the auditorium, looking out at the massive crowd and getting more psyched up for this. This wasn’t the little downtown auditorium I was used to. This was big time. This was the auditorium they used for professional basketball games and concerts and…professional fights. I was finally here and my blood was surging through my veins and filled with the heat of my passion. The crowd was unbelievable. I couldn’t believe this many people came to watch me. I guess that was slightly arrogant. I’m sure a few of them were her to watch Bo “Crusher” as well. Dean said it was standing room only and he wasn’t kidding. My first thought after all of that was that I hoped Alexa knew to ask for her ticket at the will call window. I forgot to tell her it was a different window here. I’m sure she can figure it out. They give me four tickets. I sometimes wonder what they think about a guy who has three left over every week. I couldn’t think about that right now though. My head had to be in this fight. But I hope Alexa figured it out. The place was a sell-out. Damn it! I hoped that she was here at all. I hoped that if she came, I saw her and that way I wouldn’t be worried about where she was and what was going on while my head was supposed to be in the fight. Jeez, I was a mess.

  The lights went out suddenly and the big space exploded into the roar of the fans. I couldn’t see shit. How was I going to find Alexa? A spotlight cut the darkness all of a sudden and the big guy in the crew shirt told me to take a step back. I don’t know who he thinks he’s talking to. I’m the soon to be champion man!

  “Back!” he said again. I stepped back. Next year the son of a bitch won’t talk to me like that, I guarantee it. The announcer’s voice rips through the roar of the crowd. He welcomed everyone and then it was suddenly on. My neck and shoulders felt like concrete as I heard him say, “Two-time middle weight champion Bo “Crusher” Bryce is here tonight defending his title against the undefeated Ian “The Axe” Axle.” The crowd cheered and booed and hissed and screamed. It was deafening. There was music playing too…some rap song or other, I could barely make it out. The air was electrified with excitement as they “welcomed” the challenger….Me.

  As I jogged out, flanked by gigantic security on either side in front and behind me, my eyes squinted, trying to see past the burning light now shining right in my face and the mass of bodies around me. I needed to know she was here. I could hear people calling my name, but none of them sounded familiar. Her pretty red hair was usually easy to spot, but the auditorium was too dark and I was too blinded by the light.

  Shit! I let myself be led out to the cage. I had no other choice. Once I took my corner of the Octagon I heard the announcer once again call out Bo’s name and title. I’ve never fought him, but I’d made watching his fights and his You Tube videos part of my routine. I knew his moves, his tricks, his strengths and his weaknesses and I intended to use mine to beat him. I was confident that I was ready for this and as far as this fight was concerned I had no doubt I would walk out tonight wearing that championship belt. My only doubts tonight were about who was in the audience.

  As I waited for Bo to make it down the aisle, I searched again for a familiar face…and after several minutes of squinting, I found one…No, two. Well, I’ll be damned. My parents were here. Mom and Dad were sitting about four rows back at the end of the aisle and my Mom was holding…no wait! That big, yellow sign was being held up by a pair of hands next to my mom. It said, “Ian is the Champion,” in glitter. I could see the top of her red head from behind it before she lowered the sign and I saw her beautiful face. Alexa was here…and so were my parents. I guess I have three more reasons to lay this guy out.

  Chapter Eight

  Alexa

  I realized that Ian saw us. I started to wave, but thought better of it. I’m sure he was already distracted enough, just knowing that his parents came. I glanced at his mom. Poor thing looked like a nervous wreck. I had called her earlier just to see how they were doing. We started talking and I told her I was going to Ian’s championship fight.

  “Ian’s fighting for a title tonight?”

  “Yes, he didn’t tell you?” She started crying and I suddenly felt like crap.

  “I’ve been such a horrible mother to him.”

  “No! Oh no, don’t say that. Ian thinks you’re great. He loves you so much. He understands that you can’t watch him fight….” Kind of.

  “No, I have been, Alexa. I’ve been so wrapped up in my grief that I’ve almost forgotten I have another child that needs me. What time is his fight?” I told her where and what time. And then I said, “I think it will be sold out…” I heard her suck in a breath, trying to control a sob before she let me finish. “His tickets are at the window. This is a different stadium though. So, look for pick-up or will-call and tell them who you are.”

  I heard her let out the breath. “Thank you, Alexa. You’ve been such a good friend to both of my babies. I hope you know we love you.” I got choked up then. She was the closest thing to a mother that I ever had. I thanked her quickly and hung up.

  I was further surprised when I got here and saw that his father came too. He looked proud and excited. It was the first time since Emma died that I saw any signs of life in his eyes. I hoped Ian was as happy to see them as they seemed to be just being here.

  “Crusher” was standing in his corner glaring at Ian. He was completely bald and his oiled head glowed under the lights. The lack of hair emphasized the scars on his face and the way his
nose sat to one side. He looked mean…and very dangerous. This was about defending his title. I doubted he was going to give it up easily.

  The referee motioned for them to meet in the middle. They went out and he gave them the speech. The fighters seemed to be locked eye to eye and although I couldn’t hear what was said up there, the motion of “Crusher’s” lips and the glare in his eye made me think some serious words were being exchanged…or maybe only flung from the “champion.” It didn’t look like Ian said anything back. They tapped their knuckles together and then went back to their corners. A few seconds later the loud sound of a horn brought them back out. They met in the middle with raised fists. I felt Ian’s mom take my hand. As soon as the ref waved a hand between them and said, “Fight,” she squeezed it…tightly.

  The two hard-bodied men circled each other. They looked like they were sizing each other up. The crowd was yelling at them to “Throw a punch,” “Take a hit,” and “Throw him down!” I saw Bo put his hand up in Ian’s face, like he was taunting him. Ian still looked cool and calm right up until he threw out a quick left that caught Crusher on the chin. The crowd went wild as they circled around each other again. Crusher suddenly threw out his right leg and swept at Ian’s feet. Ian was too fast for him though and jumped back in time to avoid being taken down. He came back at him with a right jab and then a crushing blow to his left side. It seemed to stun the “champion.” I don’t think he was expecting such a challenge. He starts to double over, but he must have been faking it because all of a sudden he threw out a right cross that Ian wasn’t expecting. It caught him on the side of the face and I heard his mother suck in air and I felt her clamp down tighter on my hand. I looked at her face and saw that she was wearing a painful wince. I squeezed her hand back for reassurance and then focused back on the fight. I looked up just in time to see Crusher rush Ian and slam him hard against the mesh of the cage. He held him there with his arms as his fist’s pummeled Ian’s back and shoulders.

  Ian wasn’t done yet though. The crowd was buzzing as his right leg reached out and snaked around the other man’s legs and set him off balance. He tried to come back and grab Ian around the neck but Ian threw his shoulder forward and buried it in his chest. They were struggling, but neither of them was going down. It seemed to me like they stayed that way for a long time before the ref moved in and broke them up. They both raised their arms and Crusher took a step back. They stood there like that until the ref waved a hand between them again and it was back on.

  As soon as they were in fighting stance, Ian went for the other man’s gut. As he doubled over, Ian slammed into him with a shoulder. Bo “Crusher” Bryce, slammed down into the mat on his back. He was obviously struggling to breathe as Ian straddled his legs and pulled back his fist. Bo threw his head to the side and brought his arms up. It didn’t faze Ian as he started throwing the punches anyways. He was pounding him but I could not just hear but feel the buzz of the crowd as Bo planted his foot against the mat and thrust his hips. He bucked Ian off like a bronco and suddenly he was on top. He pulled back his fist and Ian’s mom’s face was buried in my shoulder when it landed and tiny droplets of blood rained out across the octagon. His father even looked away and I felt a sharp pain in my chest. He was about to unleash another when the horn sounded. Thank you, Jesus.

  Bo got up off of Ian and they both went to their corners. I could see his trainer talking to him…yelling, maybe as he patched up the cut across his eye. He rinsed out his mouth, wiped himself down with a towel and got back up on his feet.

  The horn sounded and the ref gave them the signal. Ian threw the first punch again, a right hook that connected with Bo’s left jaw. He came back with two sharp jabs against Ian’s stomach and ribs. Ian was suddenly gasping for breath and looked like he was going down. He doubled over slightly

  but stayed on his feet and in a blink he was moving again, throwing out a round kick that landed on Bo’s ribs hard. He stumbled backwards but then shot one of his legs out and connected with the backs of Ian’s calves. Ian was struggling to maintain his balance. When he got it back he connected with the other man’s ribs with his fist this time. That seemed to piss him off. He brought his knee up so quickly that I don’t think anyone saw it coming. It connected with the underside of Ian’s chin. Ian staggered back, looking stunned for a second and Crusher stepped towards him with a cocky look. Ian wasn’t finished. He threw out a right and connected so hard with his jaw that his mouth guard flew out along with a spray of blood and saliva that coated everything in a two foot radius…and then he went down. He landed on the wet, bloody mat with a thud. His head bounced up once and then landed back down. His eyes were closed. He was out. The crowd was going crazy.

  “What happened?” His mom asked, close to tears. His father was grinning and so was I.

  “Our son is a champion,” he said just before the announcer said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, your new middleweight Champion, Ian “The Axe” Axle.”

  Everyone was on their feet now. The sounds of the crowd were deafening. The faces around us were contorted with excitement. Ian’s mom and dad were hugging and jumping up and down, and I couldn’t stop smiling. He won. He was a middleweight champion. I focused my attention back up front as he was presented with the coveted belt. He was bleeding from the cut over his eye, sweating buckets and smiling from ear to ear.

  Chapter Nine

  Ian

  I stood there with my arm in the air and the heavy belt draped across my shoulder, trying to catch my breath and trying to believe this moment was really happening. I’d won. I’d spent the last three years eating right, taking care of my body, studying champion fighters and practicing until I nearly passed out. Part of me always knew that I could do this. The other part…the one in the recesses of my brain that only came out to play when it was least welcome…knew that it never would. Take that, asshole voice! I said.

  After the ref congratulated me, the promoter came out and did the same. He whispered in my ear for me to wait for him in the locker room, he had “a few” guys he wanted to introduce me to. He put the microphone in my face and asked me how it felt to be the champion. My head was buzzing…I think I was overdosed on adrenaline. The only word I could think of was “Good.” It wasn’t brilliant, but hey, I’m a fighter not a scholar. I was a champion!

  The doors to the octagon were opened and I was all at once flanked by the over-sized security guards. I went along with them like a good boy until we got right next to where my mom, dad and Alexa were sitting. I broke free and grabbed hold of the first one I could reach…my dad. He was startled at first, but suddenly smiled broadly and wrapped me up in a tight hug. Then he held me back to look at my face and said, “I’m so damned proud of you, son. You’ve come such a long way.” I felt myself choking up. My mom was staring at the cut over my eye.

  “It’s okay, Mom. Just a flesh wound,” I told her.

  She tried to smile, bless her heart. Then, she wrapped me in a hug too. I could see Alexa’s face over my mother’s shoulder and I was aching to touch her. My mother held me for what seemed like forever and before she finally released me she whispered, “I love you, Ian.”

  “I love you too, Mom.” I looked up at Alexa then and she glanced nervously at my parents. With a grin I said, “By the way, Alexa and I are dating.” She smiled broadly then and jumped into my arms. I held her tightly until I felt Dean’s giant, calloused hand on my shoulder.

  “We have to go, Buddy. Lots of people waiting to talk to you.”

  “You guys will wait for me?” I asked them.

  “Wild horses couldn’t drag us away,” Alexa said with a grin.

  Dean ushered me into the back where there was a conference room filled with reporters waiting. I was a little overwhelmed with all of the cameras flashing and microphones in my face, but it was a good overwhelmed.

  The reporters asked a lot of questions about my fighting career…where I started, where I hoped to go. They asked me how it felt to win the championshi
p and who I thought I owed my success to. I answered the questions as well as I could, giving Dean all the props he deserved for all of the help he’d given me over the years. After about fifteen minutes, Dean told them that was it for now. A few of them asked about private interviews and who my agent was. I looked at Dean and he said, “Any of you that want a private interview wait for me outside the door and I’ll get you a number.”

  After they all left I told him, “I don’t have an agent.”

  “I know, kid. I’ll give the my number and finding one will be our first priority on Monday morning if you don’t have five of them knocking on your door before then…as I suspect you will.”

  “Thanks Dean, for everything.”

  “I just pointed you in the right direction. You did all the work. You did good, kid.”

  He pointed me out a different door so I could make it to the locker room without going through the sea of reporters again. I showered and realized that I was so amped up from the adrenaline still that I was shaking all over. I felt like I’d just sucked down several energy drinks. After my shower the medic tended to my eye. He had to put in a few stitches and then he covered it with a bandage and said I was good to go. By the time I emerged back into the hallway, the reporters were gone and Dean was waiting for me. He handed me several pieces of paper with names and numbers on them.

  “What are these for?”

  “Agents, promoters, managers, sponsors…you name it kid. It’s all on for you now.”

  “You too, right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re still going to train me?”

  “You have a lot more options now than a dried up old ex-con Buddy.”

  I shrugged. “You kind of grew on me,” I told him. For a flash of a second I thought I saw tears in his eyes.