* * *
“Howdy, howdy, sports fans and welcome to another Friday Night Fight. A couple of great matches so far, but now we get to the one we’ve been waiting for: Williams versus Gasnier. The winner goes on to face Brent Diaz for the Undisputed Championship. What are your thoughts, John?”
“I cannot believe you’re making me watch this,” Tegan croaked as Fiona poured her a glass of water. She lay still in her bed after today’s latest round of chemo. The effects had been brutal on her body. As she reached for the cup, her ID bracelet slid down to almost her elbow. She had deliberately asked for no mirrors in her room so as to not remind herself of how much weight she was losing or what she looked like. Her stomach gripped her with pain hour after hour. Whether that was the effect of her treatment or her constant vomiting, she wasn’t sure. All she wanted to do was sleep. When she slept, she didn’t vomit. When she slept, she didn’t cry. She didn’t feel sorry for herself either. She tried so hard to be strong, to will herself through each day, each session. But her strength was just not there, mentally or physically.
She knew she wasn’t supposed to feel better anytime soon, but never had she thought she could feel this bad. To her credit, in which Tegan could never give her enough, Fiona had come to see her every day. Tonight, to Tegan’s surprise, Fiona had organised, or rather paid for, the fight to be streamed on Tegan’s ceiling TV.
“I told you, this isn’t for you, it’s for me. You had that glorious cock for, like, three days and you never described it enough. I need inspiration when I get home to my toy after being around your pasty, bony arse. I’m gonna need arthritis cream for my wrist.”
“Have fun fucking yourself then, tubby tits.”
Fiona planted a light kiss on Tegan’s head, and Tegan smiled, patting her arm. Their insults were always in good fun, and they made the situation less horrible. What more could be said that wasn’t depressing? Making light of a shit situation suited Tegan just fine.
“Good evening, everyone. Tonight, Brad, we get two fighters with similar strengths but very different styles. On the one hand, we have Connor Williams, the Irish Bloodhound. He’s a great technical fighter with a lethal right foot and a huge engine. But, as good as he is, on the other hand, we have the overwhelming favourite, Owen Gasnier. The Sydney Scorpion. His last fight lasted less than half a minute, and he took down his opponent, Rudy Dominov, with only two strikes.”
“That’s right, John, and let’s not forget that Rudy Dominov actually handed Connor Williams the only defeat of his professional career last year. Is it going to be telling that Gasnier, who’s undefeated, beat the man who beat his current opponent?”
“Yes and no. I think it’s safe to say Williams learnt a lot from that defeat and came out a better fighter for it. But at that stage of his career, he wasn’t ready for Dominov. Even now, Gasnier has less experience than Williams did back then, but he handled Dominov with almost ridiculous ease. I cannot see anything but a Gasnier victory by knockout.”
“I actually agree with you there. The fighters are almost due, but just quickly, let’s turn our attention to the next time we will see one of these men as one of them will take on the reigning champion. Now that will be a great match up.”
“Oh, man, I cannot wait for that. Even coming in for makeup today, I had fans coming up to me, mostly Gasnier fans, talking about Gasnier versus Diaz. It’s the fight they all want to see. Hell, I’ll admit it. I want to see it too. Brute strength up against sleek skill. That’s if Williams doesn’t proceed through of course, but with respect, I’m going with my first prediction. Gasnier wins, and we are on our way to a dream match that I couldn’t even call.”
The cameras switched to inside the dressing rooms, showing Connor Williams shadow boxing. His team shouting encouragement or instructions as he moved, Tegan wasn’t sure, then her heart leapt. She saw him. Owen. Sitting on a bench as his father secured his gloves.
His face was like stone. No emotion in it whatsoever. It was so strange to see him now, on a screen. After seeing him fight live. After being in his bed. After taking him into hers. This wasn’t him. Not this emotionless fighting machine. He had such passions. For people. For his fans. For children. For life. For her. She felt it when he touched her, when he asked her about her interests. Little things, like opening up to her about his fears.
A part of her wanted to be there with him, for him. To kiss him for luck. But, and she was ashamed to admit it, part of her was glad she wasn’t there. Because she wanted him to lose tonight. Winning meant facing Diaz. She could never, and probably would never, get that fight versus Chozen out of her head. No title, no championship, was worth what Owen would have to go through.
Tegan bowed her head as Williams made his entrance, showboating like they all did. Well, like most did.
She let out a small breath. Please, just let him be OK.
Through the TV, she could hear the familiar crowd swell, arm in arm, with Loch Lomond.
“Maybe if we joined in, might make you feel better?”
“Imnotsingingthatstupidfuckingsong!” Tegan seethed.
Fiona took a second before rubbing her hand softly, knowing better than to press the issue as the crowd started to chant as Owen stepped from behind a curtain and made his way towards the Cage, Robert flanking him like usual.
Once inside, they faced off for their instructions from the ref and parted with a brief hand touch. Fist touch. Whatever. A sign of respect, at least Tegan understood that. She held her breath, waiting for the ring bell.
* * *
“Now, you remember what we said about this first round. Move, throw fakes. Keep him off balance and guessing,” Robert hollered over the crowd. “Hey! Wake up!”
Owen nodded, acknowledging the advice but ignoring the concern in his father’s voice as the bell sounded. He moved several steps ahead and bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting for Williams. Owen danced away, barely dodging two swings and swatting away a low kick attempt. Then, Williams’ fist came hurtling towards him.
* * *
“Oh, excellent shot by Williams! Gasnier really got tagged.”
“Tagged? That hit rocketed into his head! I think Gasnier is staggering. What a shot.”
“He’s definitely trying to re-balance. Williams has to take advantage…and now he does, here he comes!”
“Gasnier backing up, trying to get some distance. His back has hit the Cage! Well, what’s going on there? It’s like he has no ring awareness?”
“The ref is going to have to watch that. He may be concussed. If that’s the case, this fight is over already…or it may be right now! Left and right by Williams. Bang! Bang!”
“Gasnier has to do something quick.”
“He’s holding him, John. Trying to suck in the big ones. I’ve never seen anything like this. Who expected this? Oh, he’s cut. Gasnier is cut. Just under the right eye. He’s in big trouble.”
“Williams is not letting him breathe! Unloading with both fists as Gasnier tries to cover up— Oh, yes! Finally, a retaliation! Gasnier stings him with a beautiful dodging uppercut. AND HE EXPLODES OFF THE CAGE WITH A KNEE! Williams is down!”
“But if Gasnier stays true to his word, he won’t take advantage. No… Look, he’s staying back. He’s letting Williams get up.”
“I cannot believe that! He could’ve won the match right there.”
* * *
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY? HIT HIM!” Tegan shrieked through her tears. A nurse popped her head around the wall to tell her to keep it down and watch her language only to dodge a water jug thrown by Tegan. “YOU FUCK OFF AND FUCK OFF NOW!”
Tegan looked at Fiona. She was the fight expert. Surely, she had some answers, some reassurance. Something! But Tegan was surprised again. Fiona. Silent. Highlighted by the fact she had her fingers pressed hard against her lips, her eyes not moving from the screen. She too was at a loss for words. She had no idea what was happening, or what was going to happen.
*
* *
The bell sounded, bringing a roar from the crowd as they loved the back and forth between the two. They wanted their money’s worth. Owen sat on the stool in his corner after being helped there by Robert.
A voice he only barely recognised spoke to him. The ref. “Owen, if you get in trouble one more time, I’m stopping this, understand?”
“Yeah, yeah. You won’t have to, Lou,” Robert said, pressing the ice pack into Owen’s head. Once the ref had turned his back, Robert said, “I have to stop this thing. We should never have fought tonight. I fucking knew you weren’t ready.”
“Stop this fight…I’ll kill you,” Owen heaved.
“It’s done. You’re done.”
Owen grabbed his father’s hand, stopping him from going over to the ref. “I can’t quit. If I lose, I lose. I HAVE to do this.” Owen closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing but instead, images popped into his mind. Of Tegan. The way she looked the last day he saw her. He knew why she said what she said. That she was trying to be strong for them both. But it didn’t make the loss and distance any easier. He knew he had to focus on what he had to do, but, the more he tried, all he saw was her smiling face. This beating was nothing compared to what she was going through. “I have to do this on my feet. Win or lose... For her.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
Owen ignored the question even though Robert asked again. Instead, he rose to his feet, staring across at Williams who was doing the same.
* * *
“Tegan, you need to relax,” the nurse said.
“Get that syringe out of my face and I will.”
“It’s a mild sedative. In your condition, too much stress on your heart can lead to major problems.”
“Sedate me after the fight. I have to see it to the end.”
“It’s just a fight.”
“No, it’s not. You don’t understand. I have to...” How could she explain? Owen was losing, and she knew it was because of her. What she had said. She couldn’t help but feel guilty and yet determined. She knew his mind wasn’t right. He had lost focus during their time together. Watching him get beaten crippled her but she needed to. She needed to know she was with him in some way. “I just have to see it through. Please.”
Fiona scoffed and rose. Moving the nurse out of the way. “I’ll keep her calm. I promise. Keep the syringe just in case I can’t, deal?”
The nurse looked unsure but finally sighed as the bell rang. “Deal.”
“Round two in what has already been the super fight of the night.”
“Absolutely, John. Never thought this would be the scenario come round two of this fight, as both fighters circle each other. Of the two, I’d say Gasnier looks the most uncomfortable. Oh! Trick shot by Williams! He faked a kick on his preferred leg, John, and Gasnier fell for it. You see how Williams opened himself up for Gasnier to unleash, but it was a ploy. Williams stinging him directly under that cut eye; brilliant tactics there. Brilliant.”
“Goddammit! Come on!” Fiona yelled. “The face, Owen! The face! Come on, baby!”
* * *
Owen backed away as his cheek tore open. He felt the blood seep out of the wound more and more. He didn’t have much time left. The ref would stop it. Then his dream would be over. He had to end it quick. Deliver a trick shot of his own. Trick shot...
Owen changed his stance and closed in. He led with his right and yet struck with his left to Williams’ ribs. The force doubled Williams over, but Owen didn’t let up. Shoving Williams violently into the Cage and gritting his teeth against his mouthguard, Owen unleashed with everything he had. To the body first...
* * *
“Oh, my God... COME ON!” Fiona screamed. “GET IN CLOSE!”
“Gasnier, unleashing furious strikes to the body. I don’t know what he’s thinking here.”
“Trying to wear him down, perhaps? But he’s using a lot of energy here. He’s getting in close. Too close, I think, to do any real damage.”
“Oh, my! Williams swung and JUST missed with that hook! We are talking centimetres without Gasnier moving back. It was like Gasnier was expecting that, but jeez, that was cutting it close.”
“Wait for it... Wait for it,” Fiona seethed through gritted teeth.
“Oh, man, I think Williams is measuring for his kick, John. He’s readying for it. He hits this, it’s gotta be over.”
“Unbelievable. Williams is one kick away from the upset of the decade and a shot at the championship. He’s backing away.”
“NOW!” Fiona screamed.
“OH, MY! WHAT A HIT! WILLIAMS NEVER SAW THAT STRAIGHT RIGHT COMING. HE’S DOWN. HE’S OUT. IT’S OVER! GASNIER WINS!”
Both Tegan and Fiona screamed. The latter wrapped her arms around Tegan who, despite a twinging pain in her chest, was crying fresh tears of joy and relief as she stared at the screen where Owen had sunk to his knees, his head down, completely exhausted. The ring filled quickly as the announcements were prepared.
* * *
Owen’s cut was checked over by Robert, then the doctor tidied it up by using butterfly stitches. His head pounded with his heartbeat, worse than the pain of the wound. He felt elated, yet sick to his stomach.
The announcer joined them in the ring. Williams and Owen stood on either side of the referee. “The winner, with the official time of forty-seven seconds in the second round via knockout, and the new number one ranked contender in the world... The Sydney Scorpion, Owen GASNIER!”
The crowd erupted and chanted his name, though, as usual, he didn’t acknowledge the applause until he shook his opponent’s hand. Which he did, only to notice Williams looking behind him. Just as Owen turned, the crowd noise swelled. Owen set his shoulders. The door to the Cage had opened, and a new person had entered the ring, given a wide berth by trainers, cheerleaders and cameramen. Brent Diaz had been in the crowd, and now he stood opposite Owen, staring him down through thick and wide sunglasses, the championship gleaming over his shoulder.
He stood for the longest time, saying nothing. Content to loudly chew gum, staring at Owen. Diaz made a big deal of slowly looking Owen up and down before holding his hand out for a mic.
“You know, there’s something about this situation that really befuddles me. I kinda wanna say congratulations to you. I do. But is it really a good thing you won? Sure, you get a neat little few months of being called the number one contender, but when I’m what’s waiting for you, is it really a prize you got? Or a punishment? I came here to let you know the date is set. The fight you’ve been waiting for your whole life. You want this? Come and get it, you lil’ Strayan’ bitch.”
Diaz lowered the microphone and made to hand it to Owen. Wanting him to say something in return. Owen figured this was a marketing ploy to generate tickets and subscribers to the pay per view fight channel. Whatever. Owen had never been interested in that shit. He gave the championship one swift glance and turned away from Diaz, helped by his father. The crowd booed him for not answering which may have fuelled Diaz’ next words.
“Where’s that Aussie charm you use on your pussy patrol fans? You got nothing to say coz ya can’t knock me up? Or you realising you’ll struggle to land a punch seeing as though I’m not a woman?”
“Don’t,” Robert said as Owen slowed his pace down.
He heard Diaz scoff behind him. Saying into the microphone, “And they call me a monster? At least I don’t kill my kids.”
Robert tried to keep a hold of Owen’s arm but failed. “OWEN, NO!”
* * *
“Oh, you fucking cunt,” Fiona said to the screen. “Are you OK, babe? Babe?”
Tegan tried to answer, blinking several times rapidly as the pain in her chest grew and grew. “I can’t breathe.”
* * *
Owen mowed down several people in front of him and leapt into Diaz. He snapped a jab across Diaz’ face and his sunglasses split in two. The championship belt fell to the mat as both men traded punches. Owen ran on pure fury, tasting
blood from biting his lips so hard. Fighting in anger gave an adrenaline boost yet made one sloppy. Both men were pulled away from each other by the people in the ring as the crowd went off their faces. They knew this wasn’t staged. It was real.
As his arms were held back, Owen saw Diaz jump over those trying to hold him right before his fist crunched into Owen’s face. The force made his legs give way, and if it wasn’t for Robert, he would’ve crumbled.
Owen felt hot blood flow from his forehead, dripping down in front of his eyes but through it, he saw Diaz hold the title aloft, over those holding him back.
“It’s right here. Come on. Don’t ya’ want it? You ain’t nothin’, boy! You’re a phony, man. A fake. You don’t deserve this. You’re a joke!”
Robert helped Owen out of the Cage and past the journalists, arena personnel, and even the commentators towards the back, as Owen lost consciousness.
* * *
“Teegs, babe! Hold on!” Fiona yelled, watching the nurses crowd around Tegan, whose limbs were jerking as well as her body. She was trying to scream, but no air escaped her. The machines connected to her were now beeping their alerts. “Help her!”
“Please, you have to give us room,” the nearest nurse said, pressing Fiona out into the hallway.
Fiona covered her mouth as the double doors closed and the curtains were drawn around the bed just as an oxygen mask was snapped around Tegan’s mouth. Not seeing was worse than seeing. Fiona’s mind raced, yet she couldn’t hold a coherent thought together. Waiting was always the worst part. The brain always played out the worst possible scenario. Fiona’s was playing out why the curtains wouldn’t open. Imagining they would stay closed forever, always shielding her from Tegan.
Fiona sat down just inside the doorway, as close as she could get to Tegan’s bed, next to a heap of her personal items. Toiletries, her Kindle and the like. And her purse which had had a letter drop out, lying just beside it. Fiona, in an attempt to do something useful, picked up the paper and had every intention of putting it back, yet the letterhead caught her eye. A real estate agent’s banner. She flicked open the folds and read:
Undisputed (The Undisputed Series Book 1) Page 11