Punished

by Sandy Kline

  “So it’s a fight to the death then?”

  “That’s the only way to win. Either Jake dies or his opponent, or both. Last one I saw both died.”

  “How long ago was it that you fought?”

  “I was a wayward soul in my twenties so…long time ago.”

  “Wow…you’ve really been through some things…”

  “If he wins tonight, being that he’s now somewhat of a celebrity in the MMA world there is too much a chance that word could leak out about his involvement in the death matches. Such a damning allegation would not need to be proved. Just the smell of it on him and that’s enough for Surge to cut bait and run, so to speak.”

  “I can’t believe this. Well, I have to go. I can’t let him throw his career and possibly his life away over me.”

  “Well let’s go then. Oh…and uh…he may be pretty pissed that I came here to you. He’s set on doing this so maybe leave the kid here. In fact, let’s do this. Why don’t I stay here and give Diego a lesson and you go and talk to him. He’ll be at a hotel waiting to be picked up.”

  Then Jamarcus looks at his watch. “Keep track of the time. You both have to be out of the hotel before they come to get him or there will be trouble. He’s staying at the Sand Piper Inn, room 403, over on Shoreline Blvd in Oakland. Should take you thirty minutes to get there and then you’ll safely have 40 minutes to talk him out of it and get out of there. Got it?”

  “Yup!”

  I say a quick goodbye to Diego and run out the door. Jamarcus gives me the keys to his truck so I won’t have to wait for a taxi. That would waste a precious half hour of my time just waiting. I put the pedal to the metal and make it there in record time. As I pull up to the parking lot I see Jake’s Ford Explorer still in the parking lot. I check my watch. I actually have 47 minutes to talk to him. I park and run up to room 403 and rap loudly on the door. When no one answers immediately I rap even harder and call out to him.

  “Jake, it’s me Christine. Open up!”

  I wait another minute and am just about to pound again when the door pops open, but it’s not Jake at all. Some huge Mexican dude with a blue bandana and a wicked looking shotgun stands in the doorway.

  “What the fuck do you want?” He asks in a very unfriendly tone.

  “I…I just wanted to talk to Jake for a second.”

  “What the fuck for?”

  “Is he in there?” I ask.

  “Who are you anyway?” The man asks.

  At least he’s not pointing the gun at me…yet. I crane my neck trying to see around him and into the darkened room.

  Another three hundred pounds of muscle joins my new friend at the narrow doorway. He looks at me with blood red eyes, and then looks to his buddy.

  “What the shit Bo? You gonna get rid of her or not?”

  “Yeah I’m gonna do that but first I need to know what she’s doing here and why she wants to talk to our boy now of all times.”

  Bo’s friend looks down on me again with his bleary eyes. “What the fuck lady? Explain yourself!”

  He is also of the Latin persuasion and looks even nastier than his larger compadre. He too has a blue bandana covering his forehead. His neatly pressed button down shirt is unbuttoned all the way up to the top where just the first button holds it together over a white tee. Both are dressed similarly and with pressed blue jeans. Gang bangers by the look of them.

  “I just came to give Jake a ride to the pharmacy. He’s gotta pick up his medicine before he start’s puking his guts out.”

  “Really, cause he don’t look sick to me.” Bo replies, glancing back over his shoulder, presumably at Jake.

  I just wonder why Jake doesn’t speak up for himself.

  Bo’s ‘smaller’ friend reaches behind his back and produces a very shiny, bright 9mm handgun. “I think we should invite the misses in for a chat, don’t you think Bo?”

  He points his gun at my face and waves it like he’s waving me in. Something tells me, Jake or no Jake, I don’t really want to be going in that room. I take a tentative step backwards but before I can turn to flee Bo’s little friend snatches my arm and propels me inside the hotel room. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimly lit room. Jake is sitting on the only bed in the room looking none too pleased.

  “What are you doing here?” He whispers.

  “Coming here to keep you from doing something stupid.” I reply.

  “Well you’re a little late for that.”

  “What are they doing here?” I ask.

  Now that I’m inside they’ve taken seats on either side of the door and are talking amongst themselves in Spanish. They’re probably deciding my fate.

  “They’re here to make sure I make it to the fight tonight. And now that you’re here, they’re going to make sure you come as well so any thoughts you had of springing me; forget about it. You’re just lucky they let you live. But you try anything stupid and they might rethink their plan. They’ll do just about anything to protect their bosses and the underground circuit they’ve got going. So Jamarcus sent for you?”

  “When I told you to make good on that debt I didn’t mean ruin your career in the process.” I chide him.

  “You left me with no choice babe. This is the only way I can come up with the cash in time to get Cutter off your back. He knows you’re here and it’s only a matter of time before he snatches you or your son.”

  “Why doesn’t he just go after King or Boomer?”

  “Because you’re a much easier target. But he may go after them too as a matter of principle.”

  “So who do you fight tonight?”

  “Some guy named Blade. Can you guess how he got that name?”

  “He doesn’t get to use a knife though right?”

  “Of a certainty.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I ask. “What happened to honor among…fighters? Why would they stack the deck against you like that?”

  “Because I asked for twice the purse. No way is Cutter going to settle for the original debt amount. He’s surely doubled that by now. I’m just hoping he’ll settle for twenty or twenty-five. I couldn’t get the promoters to put any more on the fight. I had to agree to face Blade unarmed as it is.”

  “What? Are you freaking kidding me? A knife expert gets to get in the ring with an unarmed fighter? Even if you win, what’s the odds you won’t get hurt? How you supposed to fight your regular fight for Surge if you’re recovering from a knife wound?”

  “Guess I better not get sliced then.”

  “This is insane. Let’s just bust out of here.” Then I lean real close to him like I’m going to give him a kiss or something. “I have a gun in my purse.”

  “Are you nuts? Hush up before you get us both killed before the fight.”

  Suddenly Bo appears behind me. “Time to go lovers.”

  Damn I should have called Jamarcus and told him what’s up. Now he’s going to be worried that something happened. After about twenty minutes into the ride Bo’s little friend blindfolds us both. After that it takes another half hour to reach the venue. But even then they don’t take off our blindfolds. They make us keep them on until were led into the building and into another room where the door is locked behind us. I wait for a second not sure what to do then just rip off my own blindfold.

  “They’re gone.”

  Jake takes off his own blindfold and looks around before trying the door.

  “Locked.”

  “I thought you had at least another hour before they were to get you for the fight. What happened?”

  “I think things changed because the purse changed so dramatically Also because you showed up they deemed me an extra security risk.”

  “But wouldn’t the larger purse make you that much more likely to stay and fight?”

  “You have to consider the stakes. Yeah there’s more money on the line but as you pointed out, there’s more on the line for me. There are high odds that this will be a career ender for me whether or not I win. Th
ey’re taking that into consideration. They probably figured I was gonna have a change of heart so they came an hour early.”

  “At least we get some privacy. Look Jake, I didn’t mean for you to throw away your career to help me out. I guess I thought you’d take an advance on a credit card or get a line of credit on your home or something.”

  “Clearly you’re not a finance minded person or you’d know those things take time; too much time. I did…am doing, the only thing I know of that will get me what I need when I need it.”

  “So you’d…risk your life for me? Because that’s what you’re doing here. You could die over a ten grand debt that’s not even yours.”

  I don’t know if I should feel grateful or mad at him for doing this. I close my eyes. If I’m going to stay mad at the guy I can’t be looking at him. One look means one thought and that leads to a whole lot of thoughts strung together and pretty soon I’m imagining him…well, like I’m imagining him now. I can’t think this way. The man did a horrible thing to me. I should be pissed at him for the rest of my life but somehow I’m not.

  “Tell me why I shouldn’t hate you for what you helped King and the others do to me.”

  “What? A minute ago you were all, actions not words buddy, and now you want me to say something? I’m in the mess and so now are you because of that little motivational speech you gave the last time we saw each other. Maybe I’m not in the mood to give another speech.”

  “You can’t be surprised I reacted that way Jake. You had me drugged. You almost ruined my life all because someone who helped you decades ago asks you to help him back? When you do a favor for someone it’s not supposed to have strings attached. What happens the next time King wants you to do something?”

  “Look, I did not know he hurt you or your first son. You think I would have helped him if I’d known that? I knew he just needed to get some information from you. You guys were married so I figured it had to do with something about the divorce decree. Maybe you had money so he shouldn’t have to pay you so much or something like that. I figured maybe he was a deadbeat dad and was trying to weasel out of something. I really didn’t give it much thought. For the most part it was Carmen, well Taylor as you know her that gave you the drugs. I figured it would take one or two times and that would be it. Then I began to like you. I mean really like you. Then how could I even tell you? If I had only known the kind of person you are…”

  “And…”

  “And I’ll do anything and everything to prove to you how much I care for you and Diego. I’ll quit fighting if you want me to. Anything…you name it.”

  “Drop your pants.”

  “What?” he asks.

  “I think you heard me Mister. Drop your drawers right now and don’t make me ask again.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  I sink to my knees in front of Jake as he unzips his jeans. He’s too slow. I grab the denim material and pull causing the zipper to go down all the way with a ripping like zipper sound. Then I grab his jeans by the thighs and pull down hard until his white boxers are exposed. I stare at the tent in front of my face.

  “Jeez Jake, already?”

  He looks down at himself. “Hey, it’s a compliment.”

  I coulda been a well- greased hole in the wall at this point and you’d react the same way.”

  “No…that all depends on the paint scheme.”

  I give his manhood a playful slap and watch it sway back and forth.

  “Damn girl, you trying to melt my pride here? We may not have long before they come back and I’m not into putting on a show. Well, not unless you are…”

  That earns him a slightly more than playful slap.

  “Keeerap girl, did ya have to do that again. That’s gonna leave a bruise. What are the other girls going to think? You know how they talk.”

  “Other girls?” I draw back my hand like I’m about to deliver another blow. “Are they as hot as me?” I ask.

  “Oh no… their ugly as sin. You’re way hotter.”

  I start to pull down his boxers then stop mid-motion. “Wait a second. Calling me hotter isn’t much of a compliment if they’re ugly as sin Mister.”

  “Didn’t really mean it like that. I meant that you’re so damn fine that you make even normally hot girls look beastly.”

  “Good answer!” I say as I expose his pulsing manhood. I plant my lips on the sensitive underside of his giant head and with an audible suck it pops into my mouth.

  “Oh my god, you’re even better than a hole in the wall babe, way better.”

  We barely have time to scramble back into our clothes before Bo and his smaller buddy arrives to escort us to the chosen gym where the two fighters will be exercising and getting ready.

  While Jake spends his time working out and getting his head in the game I spend my time alternating between naps and planning to break us both out of here. I still can’t believe those two goons have yet to search me. If I was to use the gun to break us out somebody’s head would surely roll. As tempting as it is to try to escape it will only complicate both our lives. They would surely leak to the press that Jake was hear for a fight and that someone sprang him free against his will. Surge would drop him like a hot potato and Cutter and his boys would not be the only people after me and Jake. No…escaping would be stupid. The die has been cast and it’s far too late to start objecting.

  When the time finally comes for Jake to be escorted to the venue I feel like it’s been two days of waiting. Jake has a sweaty sheen to his bulging muscles. He obviously has been putting his time here to good use. I only hope he is truly ready to take on a man with the reputation that Blade has. To me it seems hopeless. Jake is a great fighter but he’s not an undefeated one and he has proved he can be beaten; on more than one occasion. Although the new Jake is undefeated. The Jake that is making his comeback to the world of professional cage fighting is undefeated for his comeback and I have to trust that and not dwell on what happened almost a decade ago.

  When we finally arrive at the venue we’re taken in by separate doors. I’m given a plastic card on a lanyard. The card is black with a number on it in silver. The number is 553; whatever that means. When they open the door for me I’m surprised at the size of the crowd. I’d expected maybe a hundred people. There’s probably almost twice that many spectators. It’s a good thing I dumped my gun back at the gym because they finally search me at the door and they go through my purse. Someone back at the gym is going to have some explaining to do when the gun is discovered.

  I find that my black card gets me into a special area that is right up against the stage that the cage sits atop. I look around me and there are probably twenty or thirty others around me with the same black card on the lanyard. A few minutes later the lights dim; all except for the ones spotlighting the stage now. The announcer is there along with three referees and two ring girls.

  My heart is pounding in my chest and I can barely stand to watch. Both competitors step into the cage from opposite ends, standing there sizing each other up. Jake’s opponent carries a blade in each hand. In his right hand the tip of the blade points up from his wrist whereas the tip of the blade in his left hand points downwards from his wrist. I wonder why he holds them differently. He walks like a cat. His body is loose, relaxed, and ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. Jakes walks with a heavier gate, but he too looks fairly relaxed. Blade is thinner than his counterpart and probably faster as well. Blood’s going to be drawn tonight no doubt about that. Jake said he’s going to have to think outside the box he told me just before they took him up to fight. I just wonder what thinking outside the box is to a fighter of Jake’s caliber.

  Any hope that Blade isn’t quite as accomplished a fighter his reputation suggests is quickly dashed as by the curtain of blazing, slashing steel he puts up. My eyes cannot even begin to see a hole in his defenses no matter how minute. How the hell is Jake going to keep from being carved up like a side of beef? By thinking way out of the box. So far out that
it’s not even in the same orbit as the box. And that’s what Jake does. Before Blade can get close enough to strike, Jake flicks his left foot and to everyone’s surprise and amazement his shoe sails through the air towards Blade’s head. With a swipe of his dagger Blade easily knocks the shoe to the side and it sails through the air striking the cage on the other side of the Octagon. Hitting Blade was not on Jake’s agenda. All he needed was a fraction of a second hesitation and that’s what Jake gets. Had the attack been a punch or a kick it would not have even registered for Blade, but because it was a shoe, something totally unexpected, he looked, he blinked, and he flinched as he knocked it away. That fraction of a second that his eyes closed, it is all Jake needs.

  The second Jake kicks with his shoe he steps down with that same foot and lashes out with his other foot catching Blade on the inside of his right knee and exploding it. Those closest to the octagon actually hear the tearing of the ligaments, tendons, and cartilage. They gasp in horror, each person imagining how it would feel on their own knees.

  Blade is a professional knife fighter, but tell that to his annihilated knee that no longer bears his svelte 188 pounds. He drops to his injured knee, and then continues the natural motion by rolling to the opposite side while slashing at the inside of Jake’s upper thigh and aiming for his femoral artery. An effort that will put a quick end to the fight if he’s on the mark.

  Jake’s an athlete. He’s not just a good fighter; he’s a wonder on two feet. He can jump out of the shallow end of the swimming pool and land on the deck. He has an amazing, standing vertical leap of five feet, nine inches, as proven on his YouTube videos. He can hold his own on the 40 yard dash with a fleet footed time of 4.6 seconds according to his other YouTube video. And that’s how he is able to leap over both of Blades sequential swipes that would have felled even an above ordinary man. As Jake lands on his knees just outside of Blades right arm near his shoulder. Jake hooks the man’s right wrist with his own right hand then follows up with a strike behind the man’s elbow. The first two rows of spectators cringe with the audible snap of as the knife fighters humours separates permanently from the ulna and the radius.