Devoted (7 page)

“I’m ready,”
I
said, not sure if I was talking about the fight, or
proposing. “Hey, Sam, what happened to the juice bar girl?”

“Nothing happened to
her. We’re still going out. She’s got it bad for old Sammy Boy!”

I
smiled.
“Well look at you, you big stud!
How could she
not.”

Sam glanced at himself
in the mirror over the sink and smiled. When he did that, his nose pushed over
to one side. The cartilage was completely gone on the other. Between that and
his ear, he wasn’t as pretty as he may have once been, but his heart was good
and I still felt bad about dashing his dreams of someday training a big
contender.

He was still looking at
himself, the smile faded and he said, “She sees something in me, I guess.”

“Then she’s a smart
lady. Sam,
I
’m going to ask
Emmi
to marry me tonight. But don’t worry,
my
head’s in the
fight. No matter what happens, I’m going to ask her.”

“Good for you, kid. You
know
I
don’t have any hard feelings about the MMA
thing.
I
respect that you can see it’s not for you.
That’s okay.
I
’m not giving up on my dreams yet. Another
hungry
kid’ll
come along…they always do.”

I
smiled. “I believe that,”
I
said. “I just wanted to
tell you, in case I don’t get a chance later, I appreciate the hell out of
everything you’ve done for me.”

Sam wasn’t good with
the praise, or any kind of mushy stuff. He mumbled a “Sure, kid, no problem,”
and then shuffled off to do something that would lead
me
to stop talking.
I
was going to miss Sam.
I
would still visit him of course and work out with him to
keep in shape, but it wouldn’t be the same.

I
heard the announcer calling out for Gizmo and I knew I would be next.
I
wasn’t lying to Sam, I was ready and I was psyched.

“And now…the fight
you’ve all come to see…please get on your feet for Gerardo
Gozen
…aka
Gizmo!”
I
got on my feet and Sam threw a towel around
my neck. We waited a beat and when the crowd simmered down we heard, “And the
hometown boy…My personal favorite and no doubt most of yours…Braxton Gibbs!”

I
jogged out with Sam behind me and the bouncers clearing the way. The crowd was
on its feet, cheering loudly.
I
had tunnel vision
until I got to the front and that was when I saw them…my family.
Emmi
, Zoe, Callie and
Emmi’s
mom
and dad. Okay, they weren’t all family…yet, but they would be soon,
I
hoped.
I
smiled at
Emmi
and she smiled back.
I
don’t
think she had any idea how much energy one of her smiles gave me. It was like
drinking in pure adrenaline.

I
climbed through the door and stepped into the octagon. Gizmo was giving
me
the stink eye, so I smiled at him just to be friendly, of
course. He spat into his bucket.
I
guessed he was not
the friendly sort.
I
sat in my corner, waiting for the
ref to get things started.
I
caught
Emmi’s
eye again and sucked in another one of those amazing
smiles. Her mom and dad were smiling at
me
too. It was
nice to know they were in
my
corner. The ref was
calling us out so he could do his thing and once he was done…
I
was ready to go.

I
figured out quickly that Gizmo was a lot like the last guy I fought. He came
out full-on ready to kick
my
ass. He
had no intentions of conserving
his energy, all he was
looking to do was knock me on my ass early and then go out for a drink. A few
seconds later
I
was up against the side of the cage,
elbows tucked in with my arms and fists up in front of me protecting my face
and head. Gizmo was firing punches like a mad man, no kicks, no pulling
me
in for a grapple; he wanted to knock me out, and fast.

I
finally shot out a right jab and connected with the right side of his face.
I
didn’t think it hurt much, but maybe because it was his
pretty side, it definitely pissed him off. He came at
me
that much harder, his arms and fists swinging in a constant barrage of punches,
mostly aimed at my head but every now and again, they dropped to my ribs.
I
went back on the defensive as the sweat from his already
fatigued body hit me almost as hard as his fists.

After another
half-minute or so,
I
rolled off the side of the cage
to his left. He threw a right cross which
I
batted
away. It made
me
wonder why he didn’t throw a left, which
would have driven me back and that was when it dawned on me that he had been
babying that left arm the whole time.
I
let him chase
me for a few, staying on his right side as much as I could. His left jab was
weak and his left hook was almost nonexistent.
I
threw
a triple combo at him, connecting with all three. The guy might not have had a
left arm, but he could take a punch. All three connected with his face hard and
none of them seemed to do more than cause him to be annoyed. He was striking
out with his right foot as the buzzer sounded.
I
pulled back enough so that it barely grazed my left thigh.
I
was tired, but Gizmo had to be exhausted. As
I
went
back to my corner I watched him totter over to his and sink down, waiting for
his trainer to shoot a stream of water into his mouth.

“
You
trying
to wear him out?” Sam asked as he handed
me
my towel and held the bucket out for me to spit.

“He’s wearing himself
out. Most of this sweat on me is from him.”

Sam handed
me
my energy drink and said, “True, but be careful. He’s not
as wild as the last one. Gizmo is going to last longer on just stamina alone.
You’re going to have to connect a few good ones, make him hurt a little or
he’ll keep pulling on those reserves and come back until you’re the one who
is worn out
just from defending yourself. I say put him down
this round, don’t chance going to three because then it’ll be desperation that
you’re both drawing from.”

I
was nodding as Sam talked, but I was watching my opponent the whole time. The
guy was breathing like a two-pack-a-day smoker already.
I
didn’t think he was going to last three rounds. The buzzer sounded and
I
popped off the stool to a bombardment of punches. For a
second
I
caught the sight of
Emmi
out of the corner of my eye.
I
really wanted to look
at her, but I knew I had to get busy or he was going to get lucky and land the
punch that would knock my ass to the floor. He was throwing more kicks this
round too, landing a roundhouse on
my
upper left thigh
that stung like a bitch.

I
rolled with one of his rights and wrapped him in a clinch.
I
knew he wasn’t ready for me to take him down yet, but I let him struggle hard
for a minute before I let him push me away.
I
wanted
his muscles burning with fatigue before we went into the next round. Once he
was loose, I fended off a couple of strong right hooks and then not heeding
Sam’s advice, I walked into a left that I was sure was going to be as weak as
the rest of them had been. It wasn’t. It connected with the right side of
my
face like an accelerating train.
I
staggered back and tried to reel away.
I
was dazed and
the gray spots floating before my eyes were impeding my vision. The ringing in
my
ears was muffling the sound of the crowd as I tried to
get my bearings in time to keep from hitting the floor. Gizmo wasn’t going to
let
me
slink away and recover, he was following me
relentlessly, throwing one punch after the next.

I
was still too dazed to do much but try and bat them away. Most of them were
connecting and
I
saw him step back, ready to throw out
his right leg and try to drop me to the floor.
I
stepped forward into it, the only thing I did right this round.
I
was too close for it to land the way he had intended it to
and I wrapped him up while one foot was still off the ground. This time he
stumbled backwards and
I
went with him, both of us
landing against the side of the cage. We
were still locked
in our slow dance when the buzzer sounded. Neither of us wanted to be the one to
let go first so we held on until the ref finally tapped on us both and said, “Break!”

I went to my corner
with
less swagger
this time.
I
could see Sam shaking his head as I dropped down heavily onto my stool. He
handed
me
the towel and the bucket.
I
spit out the mouth guard and grabbed the water out of his other hand.

“That one lucky punch
almost took you down, kid.”
I
laughed, but it sounded
more like a snort.

“You think?”
I
said, sarcastically.

“His left’s not as weak
as he wanted you to think.”

“That explains the
throbbing in the right side of my face. I wondered where that was coming from.”

“You
wanna
be a smart ass or you
wanna
win this fight?”

I
was going to say “both” but Sam didn’t look to be in the mood for my sarcasm so
I muttered, “Win.”

“Then listen to me,
leave this bench like you’re
on fire. Don’t fight him,
assault him. If you go out there defensive, he’s going to bring out everything
he’s been saving up while you thought he was wearing himself down.”
I
was nodding, the buzzer rang and I went out with Sam’s
voice ringing in my ears, “Attack!
Assault!”
I
was on fire, and Gizmo was in trouble.

I
could see in Gizmo’s eyes that he knew the game had changed.
There
was a look of fear in them that hadn’t been there last round.
I
feinted right and sent a left out straight from my shoulder.
He was expecting a right and his fists up in front of his face were too.
My
fist shot right through them and I not only saw and felt
his head snap back, I heard it.
I
didn’t stop though;
I didn’t plan on it until he was on the ground.
I
attacked his body. His core was strong but
I
belted
away at it shooting out punch after punch to his ribs and landing a few good
kicks to the backs and sides of his thighs. He wasn’t throwing anything back.
I
was moving too fast and he was too busy trying to protect
himself and fend me off.

I
started pounding at his gut and that was when he dropped his hands, his core
wasn’t as strong as I thought. If
I
had been less
tired and intense at that moment I would have smiled, right before I landed a
perfect right upper cut underneath his chin. It was like watching a fight in
slow motion. His head went back, his arms went up and he lost all balance,
landing hard flat on his back. For a second
I
thought
he was out cold, but as the crowd roared, Gizmo tried to roll himself over so
he could push up off the floor.
I
didn’t have much
left in me and if the son of a bitch got up, I was toast.
I
dropped on top of him and we grappled for a few seconds, both of us knowing it
was over. When
I
finally got him flipped over and my
arm around his neck, he quit squirming…and tapped out.

It took less than a
second for it to penetrate
my
brain…I won…it was over
and I had won! The crowd was going insane.
I
could see
the green of
Emmi’s
shirt but I couldn’t make out her
pretty face over all the bodies pushing and shoving around her. They better
watch themselves…she was about to be the champion’s fiancée. The ref grabbed
my
arm and dragged me to the center of the ring. He wasn’t
going to give up his part. The announcer was going crazy yelling
my
name. The whole place was chaos.
I
won, I really did it.

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

EMMI

The warehouse was total
chaos. I could barely see my
parents
two seats down,
much less Braxton up in the cage.
I
could see his hand
and I knew the ref was holding up his arm. He won and
I
was happy for him.
I
was also happy that it was over,
that was the last time I would have to watch someone beat on his beautiful
face. Zoe was jumping up and down next to
me
screaming, my dad had his fingers in his mouth blowing a whistle and my demure
little mother looked incensed with the smell of blood.
I
guess it goes to show you that you never really know anyone, not even your own
mother.