“You don’t have any proof of anything I’m doing,” he said.
“I’m pretty sure EPO doesn’t even stay in the system very long,” I said, “and besides I didn’t even take any of it.”
I finally had one up on them, and it felt good.
“I said you don’t have any proof about me, but I’ve got proof on you,” Lawrence said.
“What are you talking about?” My good feeling was short lived.
Lorenzo answered by reaching in his jacket pocket and pulling out his phone. He held it out for me. I leaned in to see a photo of me holding up the bottle of EPO right after he gave it to me. Apparently the guy in the back of the truck took the picture. Those dicks were setting me up from the start.
“See, you’re screwed, Zane. You’re going to pay me five thousand if you lose, and you’re going to pay Lorenzo his 75, win or lose.”
“And don’t try to say shit about what we did to get you on the card,” Lorenzo added. “We can easily say you paid us a bunch of money to do it.”
“People won’t believe you.”
“Really, you sure of that? Leeza is on board with it, too. She wasn’t until today, but now she says she doesn’t care. She’ll tell everyone she took the money from you.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say.
They both looked so damn smug.
“Good luck tomorrow,” Lawrence said. “I’m counting on you.”
They left. I remained glued to the spot I was standing. I didn’t want to move. I’d come so far, but it seemed all the trouble came right along with me.
All I could do was fight tomorrow and hope the money would come. Then I’d have to hope that these dipshits wouldn’t screw me over once again.
Chapter 41
I walked back toward the hotel. I tried to collect my thoughts, but my brain was spinning. I tried to do everything right this time. I stayed away from the pills, at least for the most part. I didn’t take the stuff Lorenzo and Lawrence gave me. I fought hard and was fighting for the right reason. I’d caught a couple breaks and Morris, Mace, and Tyson had been a big reason for that. And then there was Elizabeth. She was my shelter in the storm. But now I felt like I was being dragged under murky water. How long would I be punished for my past? What was the fucking point? I tried to do things right and still shit happens.
I was almost to the hotel entrance when I remembered I had an old bottle of Xanax in the glove box of my car. I thought it was empty, but a few pills might have been left behind. I veered toward the parking lot and hit the unlock button on my key chain. My car lit up just two rows away.
My legs were heavy, my thoughts numb. If I could get a couple pills and sleep through the night I’d be better in the morning. I’d have to pee in a cup tomorrow for the athletic commission. They’d definitely test at a UCC event. But two pills probably wouldn’t show up, or at least it would be such a small amount I could explain them away. Say I forgot about taking them when the doc asked me if I was on any prescription meds.
The silver shiny handle looked like a beacon of light in a dark tunnel. I reached for my car door and started to open it, but something stopped me.
Was I pissing it all away by popping a couple old Xanax? Would I be telling myself that this was more important than my little girl?
My reflection looked hazy against the Camaro’s slightly tinted passenger window. I stared at it for the longest time. It began to get hazier. I was lost.
I thought of Sam. I thought of Leeza. I thought of Elizabeth.
Finally, I opened the door. But again, I froze. I looked at the smooth surface of the black leather seat. If I could have fallen into the blackness I would have. I started to reach for the glove box. One instant I prayed that the bottle would have a few pills, the next I prayed it would be empty.
Before I got a chance to find out, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
Chapter 42
The hand squeezed my shoulder, and I heard a familiar voice say my name. My tension drained.
“What the hell are you doing?” Morris asked. “I was calling your name from across the parking lot.”
“I was just thinking.”
“You looked like a zombie. Is everything alright?”
I considered what I should tell him. He’d always come through for me, so I answered honestly. “No, everything isn’t alright.”
He got a concerned look on his face. “Let’s go inside and talk. I got in a little bit ago and just ordered some food.”
“Sounds good,” I said.
Moments later, we walked past the center fireplace and went to a table toward the back. It was well after midnight, and the lobby wasn’t very busy.
“What’s going on, Zane?” Morris asked as we sat down.
Over the next ten minutes I told him everything. He sat and listened without interrupting.
“So what you’re telling me is these guys got a photo of you with a bottle of EPO, they literally poisoned Jake Sherwood so you would get this fight, and they made a bet that can screw you out of five thousand dollars?”
“Yeah, that’s what it comes down to.”
Morris took a bite of his hamburger and then wiped his chin with his cloth napkin. “The way I see it, they don’t really have anything to hold against you. There is no way they won’t go through with the original agreement. Greedy bastards are always greedy bastards.”
“Yeah, but even if it isn’t really true they do have proof I had the EPO. And with my past it looks real bad.”
“So what! Think about it, it won’t show up in your system, they sure as hell won’t out themselves about the poisoning. Even if you supposedly paid for it, which they can’t prove, they were the ones who did it. And the bet doesn’t mean anything. Even if you decided to pay if you lost it wouldn’t be that big of deal.”
“It seems like it’s all coming down on me, Morris.”
“You need to knock that shit off, Zane. Nothing is really that bad. You’ve got one thing to worry about right now, and that’s beating up Jordan Powers so you can get Sam back. Let me worry about Lorenzo and Lawrence. Having the biggest bar in town creates some pretty good connections.
“You know what your biggest problem has been over the last five years? You let little things eat at you until they are big, and you’ve lost your ability to believe in yourself. That belief has been back recently, and look where you are.”
“Thanks Morris, but it’s not just me. Look at the odds.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot, some commentators who have never fought and a bunch of drunk college kids say you don’t have a chance either.” Morris rolled his eyes.
“I guess when you say it like that it puts it into perspective,” I said.
“You know who else believes in you? Me, and the entire town of Erickson, Mace and Tyson, and more importantly Sam and Elizabeth believe in you. Remember, you’re Sam’s champion? She made something for you too, wanted me to give it to you in case she doesn’t see you before the fight tomorrow.”
He grabbed a manila envelope from the bag that was by his chair and pulled a paper out of it. It was a drawing. The bottom half of the page was full of uneven x’s that made up the fence. Then a picture of a guy with big shoulders, long legs, and lines for abdominal muscles…me, stood kind of on top of the cage. My hands looked more like Mickey Mouse gloves. They were raised above my head, and I was holding a belt. It read, UCC Champ.
Next to the drawing there was a little bubble with an arrow pointing at me that read, that’s you, Daddy. You’re my champ!
God, I loved getting Sam’s pictures, and they always seemed to come at the right time. I smiled and glanced up at Morris. He was in the middle of chewing on the last remaining bit of his burger. He swallowed. “Remember why you’re here, Zane. Remember what you’re doing. And remember that the people who matter are the ones who believe in you.”
I didn’t need to hear anything else. It was like a wave washed over me. The doubt and worry and past felt like it got sucked int
o the water.
On the way to my room, I texted Elizabeth telling her I wanted to see her. Five minutes later, she knocked on my door. She wore yoga pants and a long-sleeved UCC shirt.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“I just wanted to see you.”
A smile broke across her face. “I wanted to see you, too.”
My eyes found her, and then I glanced away. She was so beautiful, and so right for me. “It’s just that,” I looked into her eyes again, “I just…Would you mind staying here with me tonight?”
“Of course.”
We climbed into bed and held each other, and as she laid in my arms I knew I was the luckiest man alive. Something seemed to break apart inside of me, and tears found the corners of my eyes. I let them fall down my cheek and sink into the pillow.
Chapter 43
I looked at my gloved hands. Right underneath the black gloves with UCC written across them, sat the cast-like tape job Stitch had given me an hour earlier. He’d said, “Told you you’d be back one day brother,” when he sat down across from me.
I thought of that time he sent me the text after the knockout. It was just months ago but a whole different world. I’d come so far, and I had so much to win or lose.
The tape felt perfect. I opened and closed my hands. I hit my fists together and took a deep and slow breath. The room was dead silent. Mace and Tyson were letting me collect myself.
The latch on the door made a feint clicking sound. Everybody heard it. The door swung open slightly. A man stuck his head in the room. “Zane, it’s time to go.”
Mace and Tyson started gathering their stuff, and I stood. “Let’s do it,” I said.
We walked into the brightly lit tunnel in silence. We turned a corner into a bigger tunnel. I could see the mouth of the arena just ten yards away.
Jen appeared. “You’ll be announced in two minutes. Straight out there,” she pointed to the opening, “and down the aisle like we practiced yesterday.”
She left, and I saw the camera crew coming our way. Two cameras, one set up low and tilting upward toward us, and the other a few feet behind it and at eye level. Three other guys followed the cameramen, holding cords and equipment.
Four security guys in yellow shirts were right behind them. They set up in their positions, boxing Mace and Tyson and me in.
“About twenty seconds,” one of the guys with the cameras said. I tried to relax, but my adrenaline surged.
“Take your time,” Mace said. “Enjoy this. Feel the crowd. Feel the energy. This is exactly where you’re supposed to be, Zane.”
“In five,” the cameraman said.
I closed my eyes, tilted my head back, and raised my arms out to my side.
The music started, Lighters by Eminem with Bruno Mars. Mars sang about living out dreams. I felt like his words were pointed directly at me. I knew I chose the perfect song. It made me think of Sam. It made me know exactly why I was here.
I started walking, eyes still closed, arms still out. I opened them when Eminem started in.
We hit the arena entrance and I kept a slow pace. The noise was deafening. Lights flashed, and in just a few steps I was surrounded by fans. The ones in the arena seating leaned over the wall to give me five. The ones on the floor leaned over the rail and snapped photos. I kept my hands out and the fans hit them over and over.
One of the big screens was on the far wall. I looked at it. There I was in the middle once again, fighting for the belt once again. I sucked it all in, but the fans still went by in a blur.
I got to the end of the row, a left turn and I was just steps away from entering the cage, but I turned to the right toward the crowd. I knew exactly where Sam was sitting, just three rows up with Elizabeth, Morris, Lorenzo, Lawrence, and Leeza. The crowd mobbed me. Security yelled at them to get off. I saw Sam through the row of fans and pushed my arms through them. “Sam,” I yelled.
“Go, Daddy. You can do it,” she yelled back.
I reached up toward her. She reached down for me. We touched hands, and I winked. She smiled real big. “Kick his butt, Daddy!”
The crowd jostled my arm and we broke apart.
I turned toward the cage and started walking again in the middle of an insane crowd and flustered security guards. I met Stitch at the prep point. He gestured for me to take off my shirt and shoes. “Hug your corner then I’ll put the Vaseline on,” he said.
I nodded, and turned to hug Mace and Tyson. “This is your fight,” Mace said.
“You got this. You’re better than him,” Tyson offered.
I turned to Stitch. He wiped the Vaseline on my face. “Good luck. I’m pulling for you,” he said.
The guy from the athletic commission touched my ears, my shoulders, ran his hands down to my gloves and turned my hands over. “Cup?” he asked.
I knocked on my cup as an answer.
“Mouthguard?”
I showed him my mouthguard.
“You’re good, careful on the stairs.”
I took my time walking up the four black metal steps. The soft surface of the cage floor felt good on my feet. I turned a slow circle, arms out wide. The crowd offered another surge of pure energy. I drank it in.
It was like I was home. I was right where I was supposed to be, and this time I wasn’t taking any of it for granted.
I entered the cage and jogged a slow circle before stopping in my corner. Mace and Tyson were there, leaning over the fence. They dropped my sponsor-covered banner. I stood there bouncing lightly.
Bruno Mars’ voice quieted, and although the arena wasn’t filled with lighters, I pictured them in my head. Then Bruno stopped singing all together. The lights went out. I couldn’t see him, but knew Jordan Powers was walking toward me.
Chapter 44
The arena was drowned in a split second of dark silence. Then the crowd gathered steam as the music started. It was Jordan’s usual entrance song, Bodies. I thought it was clichéd.
The lights came on like an explosion. The crowd erupted. I couldn’t hear myself think. Jordan’s entrance was the complete opposite of mine. He rushed toward the cage, bouncing up and down and bobbing his head real fast. Drowning Pool was screaming about bodies hitting the floor, and Jordan barreled toward me like a tidal wave.
I continued to bounce lightly and took a breath deep into my lungs.
Jordan got to the prep point, and I saw Stitch yell into his ear. Jordan then turned around and hugged his corner guys. One of them smacked him on the side of the head. Jordan had a maniacal look on his face, and he kept bobbing.
Mace yelled at me over the rumble of music and people. “Here, have some water.”
I grabbed the water bottle and took a couple sips. Then I dumped a little of it on the canvas and rubbed it in with my feet.
I looked over at Jordan. The athletic commissioner was just finishing his check. He pointed toward the cage. Jordan bolted for the steps.
I handed the water bottle back to Mace and turned. Jordan burst into the cage, arms up, eyes crazy, energy pinging. He ran really fast from the cage door to the other side and bounced into the fence. Then he turned and jogged a circle. He came right over in front of me and glared as he went by.
I just kept bouncing. Time for posturing was over.
The incessant screaming music quieted. Jordan stood on the opposite side of the cage. We eyed at each other. The announcer, Jace West, stepped forward. “Here we go. It’s main event time!” He yelled. “In the blue corner, with a record of 23 wins against five losses, fighting out of Erickson, Oklahoma, former UCC middleweight champ…Zane “ZT” Todd!” He drew my last name out for a good five seconds.
He then spun around toward Jordan. “In the red corner, with a record of 15 wins against one loss, fighting out of Las Vegas, Nevada, current UCC middleweight champ…Jordan “The Hammer” Powers! He yelled Jordan’s last name for what seemed like ten seconds.
The referee, Daniel McCoy, was hard to hear, but he called us to the center of t
he cage. Jordan and I met there without any prodding. “I expect a clean fight. Obey my commands at all times,” he said. “Any questions?” We didn’t respond. “Okay, touch them up.”
I held my hands out, Jordan hit them real hard.
“Back to your corners,” Daniel yelled.
I walked back to my corner. The arena quieted. It was as if the anticipation sucked the sound right out of it. The referee pointed to a table outside of the cage. He nodded. I shook my fists, one and then the other. The silence stabbed at me, and my energy gushed out. My body tingled. I was in complete fight mode.
Daniel pointed toward me. “You ready?”
He pointed toward Jordan. “You ready?”
“It’s fight time!” He yelled.
Chapter 45
I shuffled to the center of the cage. Jordan shuffled much faster. I was just a few steps out of my corner and he was in front of me, hands up and ready to lay some leather onto my skull. I circled to the right. He popped a jab that was short. Then he snapped off another one. This one was faster. It hit me square in the nose. He followed it up with a straight right. I was still reeling from the jab and couldn’t slip the punch. It busted me right in the mouth.
Shit! He was a lot faster than I anticipated. I circled hard to the right to get out of the way. My shoulder hit the fence. I didn’t even realize I was that close to the fence. He was on me again. Another jab connected, then another.
“Get in the fight,” I heard Mace yell.
I slipped the next jab and countered, but missed. I followed by closing the distance and tying him up. We’d worked so hard on dirty boxing over the last few weeks, and it paid off. I turned Jordan quickly, and had him against the cage. I slipped a short uppercut through his arms then came over the top with an elbow. It connected hard, and for the first time I heard the crowd cheer.
The Comeback: An MMA Romance Novel (Book Two) Page 11