TWIN PASSIONS: (A Logan Brothers Novel) (2 page)

I paced quickly down the
corridor as the beating noise of the crowd beyond the doors began to
fade. Then an announcer started speaking, loud over a microphone, his
voice booming through the doors.

“
Ladies and gentlemen, we are
just one fight away from our main event for the night. But first, be
upstanding for our penultimate bout. In the red corner, weighing in
at a lean and mean 165 pounds, put your hands together for Randy
Marchiano!”

The crowd roared to life again,
applause and cheers beating down the corridor towards me as I
continued my approach.

The announcer then spoke again,
introducing the other fighter as Gabriel Ortega to an even greater
barrage of noise.

I breathed a heavy sigh of
relief as I rushed down to the entrance. I hadn't missed it. Thank
God I hadn't missed it.

A wall of noise hit me as I
burst through the doors, the bell just sounding for the first round.
I was met with a familiar sight: the large open space was filled with
people, with seating stretching out from the ring in the center. Up
above were numerous lights, shining down onto the ring, with large
posters and banners set up around the walls.

The bouts were officially
sanctioned, often even televised for a local TV audience in town.
This place was a stepping stone for those fighters looking to climb
the ladder right to the top, up to the various world championship
belts that I'd been told about but failed to properly take in.

When they weren't televised,
each fight was called on the radio by a local sports station. They
became hugely popular among the local population in the city of
Branton. If you couldn't come down and watch the fights in person,
you'd be sure to be listening to them on the radio. Several bars in
town would even play the fights over the radio on Friday nights.

I didn't get it, despite my
proximity to the action. Boxing didn't appeal to me at all, and I
couldn't understand everyone's fascination with it. Even now,
looking out over the crowd, I could see a host of young people, not
only young guys, but girls as well, all standing and cheering.

I knew why many of them came.
They came for the same reason as me. They came to watch him fight.

I stood at the back, watching
for a moment as the action began to unfold. It sounded like Ortega
had the majority of the crowd on his side, and made use of their
support with the odd wave and gesture as he danced around his
opponent.

My eyes searched along the front
row, my heart-rate beginning to rise gradually as I looked for my
seat. I was never entirely sure who'd be there, but at least two of
the Logan boys would generally turn up, sometimes with their
girlfriends in tow, sometimes alone.

As my eyes trailed over the
baying crowd I caught sight of a couple of young men, both tall and
strong, standing and shaking their fists as Ortega landed a series of
devastating blows. They were the two eldest Logan brothers, Crash and
Kyle, and they appeared to be alone.

A mixed feeling of relief and
disappointment filled me up. He wasn't there.

I walked down through the gap in
the crowd towards the ring and over towards the boys. They barely
seemed to notice me as I approached the spare seat next to Crash, the
both of them with blazing eyes set firm on the fight only feet in
front of us. The roar of the crowd was deafening as Ortega landed his
final blow, sending his opponent crashing down onto the canvas. The
ref raised his hand and the tumult grew louder, my eardrums splitting
at the shrieks and cries and roars around me.

It was only when the crowd began
to quieten and retake their seats that Crash and Kyle noticed me.

“
Gemma,” Crash said,
slightly bemused, “when did you get here?”

“
Oh, just now. I haven't
missed him have I?”

He shook his head. “Nope, he's
main eventing this evening. You got here just in time.”

I thought as much. Thank God
for that.

The lights suddenly flashed
above as the announcer stepped back into the ring. The crowd hushed
once more as the lights suddenly dimmed, a spotlight hitting a
changing room over in the corner as some loud rap music erupted from
the speakers fixed around the room.

A man stepped forward, bouncing
up towards the ring and shaking his arms as he went. He had a couple
of coaches to each side behind him, walking more soberly in his wake
as he held out his gloves to the crowd as he passed them by. He had a
confident swagger about him, shimmying this way and that and leaping
straight up into the ring and climbing through the rope with a
bustling energy.

He did a couple of laps of the
ring before the spotlights shifted to the other side of the room,
fixing their attention on the final combatant of the night. My heart
began beating faster and faster as the door opened, and a figure
walked through, hooded and cloaked in black.

Even above the loud music I
could hear the shrieks and squawks of the girls in the crowd grow
louder. I glanced around to see them holding signs bearing his name.

MARRY ME CADE

WE LOVE YOU CADE

YOU CAN ENTER MY RING ANY
TIME CADE

I could feel a deep well of
jealousy burning inside me at the looks in these girls eyes. Ogling
him, licking their lips at the sight of his lean abs, the sweat
dripping down his pecs and into his shorts. There must have been a
hundred girls there, all screaming like schoolgirls at a Justin
Bieber concert.

Pathetic
.

He walked up towards the ring in
a totally different fashion to the previous fighter. He didn't veer
to the left or the right. He didn't move his arms or stretch his
gloves out into the crowd. He just kept his eyes firmly on the ring
in front of him, pacing forward with purpose, his face shrouded under
a hood.

He climbed up into the ring and
through the ropes, not wasting any energy, saving every ounce of
emotion for the fight. This wasn't a game. This was serious. And it
showed.

The music died slowly, the
shrieks of the girls around me suddenly more piercing as Cade slipped
his cloak off. His 6 foot body was tanned and glistening with sweat,
his pecs curved perfectly and his abs tight and ripped. He wore no
smile on his face, his green eyes burning with a single focus. His
hair was slicked back, his face startlingly perfect and
unblemished, even with so many fights under his belt.

The announcer's voice suddenly
filled the air around us, his words booming through the microphone.

“
And now, ladies and
gentlemen, we have arrived at our main event for the night. In the
blue corner, weighing in at 198 pounds, Ron
Rampage
Renton.”

The energetic fighter sprung
into the air and bounced once more around the ring, his arms flying
high and a portion of the crowd cheered his name.
Why did these
fighters always have such stupid names?!

The announcer's voice began
growing in strength as he continued, raising his hand out to the red
corner.

“
And in the red corner,
weighting in at 195 pounds...your champion...the undefeated hometown
hero...the Pride of Branton....Cade
The Crusher
Logan!”

The announcer drew out his name
as the volume in the room burst once more into life, threatening to
blow the roof right off.

Cade stepped forward towards the
referee, who now gathered the two fighters in the center of the ring.
The volume stayed at fever pitch with anticipation as the two
fighters squared off against each other.

I could hear Crash and Kyle to
my right, roaring their support. Nothing was more important than
family to them, and they were proud of what their younger brother was
doing. He was bringing more fame to the family name, a name that was
already well known across the city.

The roar began to slowly dampen
as the two men walked back to their corners and took some last-minute
advice from their coaches.

Then, suddenly, the bell clanged
loudly and they both turned and faced each other.

The fight was about to begin.

It was late in round 3 when Ron
Rampage
Renton hit the canvas and didn't get up. It wasn't so
much of a rampage as a massacre, and it all came from the cloves of
Cade Logan.

He'd spent the first round
ducking and diving and feeling out his opponent. By the second he'd
sent him to the mat. Renton was given a reprieve by the bell but it
didn't last. That third round was as one-sided as you could imagine.

Cade was known for his intensity
when he fought. He had this tunnel vision, and paid no attention to
anyone, or anything else. Other fighters would showboat, gesture to
the crowd and toy with their opponents.

Not Cade. No, he was all
business. It was his brooding intensity that set the hearts of the
girls alight, that dragged them into this underground boxing hall
which was once only the province of hard men with a thirst for blood.

When Cade's un-gloved fist was
raised to the heavens by the referee you could have been forgiven for
thinking you were at a Beyonce concert and not a boxing match. The
cries of the adorning girls outweighed the cheers and bellows of the
men who truly supported the sport and the city's new favorite son.

He looked over the crowd and
smiled, ever so slightly, for the first time, his expression
beginning to lighten as another victory was added to his record. He
turned all the way around before slowly coming to a finish with his
sights set firmly in my direction.

His hand drew back down and he
stretched out his finger, pointing directly at me. He winked as he
mouthed two words, very clearly so I could see.

"FOR YOU."

It was the first time he'd ever
acknowledged me at one of his fights. I could see eyes on me, coming
at me from all angles, the eyes of young women burning with envy. His
finger and stare lingered on me for a moment before he quickly
stepped out of the ring again and paced off back down the tunnel
towards his changing room.

I quickly stood up and made a
motion to leave. The feeling of people staring at me had never sat
well in my stomach.

It always reminded me of another
time, long ago.

Present Day

Cade

One step closer. And what a
fucking easy step it was.

I never understood how some
fighters behaved, dancing and prancing around in the ring. Over
twelve rounds you'd need every ounce of energy you could muster.
Why
waste it with such theatrics?

I learned one thing about the
guy as soon as I saw him in the ring. I knew right then and there
that I'd take him. It wasn't just that he was wasting energy; it was
the reason why he chose to behave like that. I could see it in his
eye.

The nerves.

They were draining his resources
from the start. You wouldn't believe how much energy you could spend
just by feeling nervous. And when those nerves make you hop about
like a rabbit, you're fucked.

I saw my chance in the second
and I took it. The ref should have ended the fight there and then. It
wasn't going any further. I didn't mind, though. Another round of
sparring could do me some good. But then again, I craved some real
tests, not just whatever they could drag out of the woodwork in
Branton and nearby towns.

If I was to rise to the top, I'd
have to climb on the backs of the best.

I was lying on the massage table
when the door knocked. Coach was giving me a debrief as a sexy chick
gave me a massage to power down my muscles. I'd already taken a bunch of
supplements and had a post fight feed. It was all scientific now:
from the preparation, to the fight, to the warm down, and everything
else in between.

Right now none of it seemed
necessary. I mean, come on, the fight only lasted 3 rounds, and easy
rounds at that. I took maybe one or two jabs, not even a single
decent hit.

Coach carried on spilling his
wisdom as he walked over towards the door and opened it up. I was
lying chest down, my head buried in the face hole of the massage
table, my feet pointing at the door.

As soon as I heard the voice, I
flipped quickly over, sending the masseuse's hands flying off me.

“
Gem!”

I jumped down off the table and
went straight towards her, my towel falling off me. I heard the
masseuse gasp lightly as I sped naked towards the doorway. Coach
stepped back quickly, averting his eyes and shaking his head.

I saw a spark of desire on Gem's
face as she tried to keep her eyes looking up. I winked at her and
smiled knowingly, enjoying the discomfort that both coach and the
masseuse must be feeling. Frankly, I didn't care

“
My lucky charm,” I said,
leaning in and giving her a kiss. I kept it short to keep the
stirring in my loins at bay. I hadn't had sex for days and getting a
hard on in front of coach might damage our relationship a little bit.