by Sandy Kline
The MMA Fighter
Book One
By SANDY KLINE
Copyright © 2014 Sandy Kline
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Dedication
Special thanks to my kids Ethan and Diego and my good friend Dan Mustaro
Edited By
Deborah Anne Larkin
IN THE CAGE
The MMA Fighter
Book One
By SANDY KLINE
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE – THE PRICE WE PAY
CHAPTER ONE – TIME LOST
CHAPTER TWO – COMING TO MY SENSES
CHAPTER THREE – DEJA VU
CHAPTER FOUR – THE WARNING
CHAPTER FIVE - JAKE
CHAPTER SIX – THE SPORT OF BLOOD
CHAPTER SEVEN – REST, RECOVERY, AND ROMANCE
CHAPTER EIGHT - ANSWER AND EVEN MORE QUESTIONS
CHAPTER NINE – RELUCTANT MEMORIES
CHAPTER TEN – GOD’S GYM
CHAPTER ELEVEN – MEMORIES TRUE MEMORIES FALSE
CHAPTER TWELVE – UNEXPECTED COMPANY
CHAPTER THIRTEEN – SUCKER PUNCH
CHAPTER FOURTEEN – MEDICAL ATTENTION
CHAPTER FIFTEEN – THANKS FOR THE MEMORIES
CHAPTER SIXTEEN – HEART TO HEART
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – SPINNING ROUND AND ROUND
Prologue
The Price We Pay
“Christine, Hurry the fuck up!” A voice booms from the downstairs living room.
I sprint down the stairs taking them two at a time. When I reach the landing I stop short. Randall King (as in King of Pain or King of the Ring) and two of his MMA buddies from Surge Productions are literally trashing my house.
“What the hell are you doing?” I scream.
“I know you keep your savings somewhere around here.” He rages. “Now where the fuck is it?”
Boomer is in the kitchen opening every can, plastic container, and box he can get his hands on. He’s actually in the right area but I’m not gonna tell him that.
“Why do you need my money anyway? Where the hell is yours? Haven’t you been making a crap load from your fights?”
“It’s none of your fucking business. It’s an emergency so cough it up.”
“That money is for my son’s college one day.”
“Are you shitting me? That kid ain’t ever going to college. He’s retarded.”
“What’s retarded?” Asks my five year old son Ethan as he comes down the stairs to investigate.
“It doesn’t mean anything sweetie. Don’t listen to King he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Watch your fucking mouth woman before it gets smacked.”
“Don’t say the F word in front of my son.” I remind King for the hundredth time. “It’s a miracle his first word didn’t begin with the letter F.”
“Boomer!” King bellows. “You find it yet?”
“Almost done bro, but I’m not finding a thing.”
“Dammit! We’re runnin’ out of time Christine. Tell me where the fuck you put your stash?”
He takes several menacing steps in my direction. I step protectively in front of my son. I can handle King’s abuse but I won’t tolerate him smacking Ethan around. My protective positioning is not lost on King.
“You actually think you can protect the kid from me? If I wanna kick the shit out of him there ain’t a damn thing you can do about it.”
He takes two more steps towards me. He’s now close enough I can smell his ever present sour odor and whiskey that wafts off him. I would not want to be in a closed room with him. The smell would be enough to make you vomit. He wasn’t always like this. I’d never have never married the guy if he started out like this. Too many years of steroid abuse, and now hard drinking, and violence have robbed him of every good quality he once possessed.
His eyes flash with anger. I’m pretty sure he can see the revulsion in my face. I’ve never been much of a faker and usually wear my emotions on my sleeve; just like tonight. He closes the distance between us and raises his hand. I force myself to stand tall and not shrink away from him in terror. And I’m terrified alright. Not so much for me but for my son and what would happen to him if something happened to me.
His open hand crashes across my upper cheek and the side of my head. The blow is so hard it spins my head around and causes my body to follow. I reach out blindly for something to steady myself on but my hands just come up with air. I land hard on the wood floor of the hallway. Pain shoots up from my right wrist all the way up to my elbow. The snapping of my bones is so loud I can actually hear it.
I grab for Ethan, pulling him into my body protectively. I expect to feel King’s steel toe boots on my ribs at any time and I do. The first kick strikes my left kidney so violently hard a scream is torn from my soul as pain shoots across my back. I’m sure I’ll be pissing blood for a month.
“Mommy!” Ethan cries. “Are you alright?”
“Mommy’s fin-”
King’s second kick lands in exactly the same spot and I swear my left kidney has just exploded inside of me. As the pain shoots through me I only think of Ethan and every little bit of pain I am experiencing is a pain that Ethan will not have to endure. I clench my teeth so hard my jaw aches. The more I cry out the more frightened Ethan becomes and I’m pretty sure he’s terrified.
Suddenly rough hands grab my arm pulling me to my feet. I cling onto Ethan as long as I can. If he manages to separate us I can’t protect my son. I scream and thrash like a mad woman but in only makes him let go of my arms and grab my long black hair instead. King pulls me up and brings my face to his so that we’re nose to nose.
“Please don’t hurt my son.” I beg.
“Tell me where it is then.” He demands.
“I don’t have any stash.” I lie.
“Really? A minute ago you said you had a stash and it was for the kid’s college education. So what happened? Did it magically disappear? Believe you me, he ain’t gonna need it. But I need it now. Trouble’s comin’ and we gotta get the fuck out of here.”
“Where are we going?” I ask. Why do we have to leave? Is someone after you?
“We…are you fucking kidding me? There’s no we. You do whatever you want, but me and the boys, we’re blowing town tonight.”
“But if someone is coming after you and they come here and you’re gone they’ll take it out of me and Ethan.”
“Not my problem bitch. But you should probably stay hidden. I suggest the bathroom. That’s always a good place to hide out.”
“In the bathroom? Are you kidding? That’s the first place they’ll look once they figure out you’ve split town.”
King ignores me for a moment and turns his vile gaze on Ethan. A cold chill creeps into my heart.
“What about it cry baby? I bet you know where your momma keeps her stash?”
Too terrified to talk, Ethan keeps his mouth shut and just shakes his head. Unfortunately that just makes King angrier if that’s even possible.
“Where is it boy?” King thunders.
“He doesn’t kno-”
Suddenly an explosion of pain rocks my head and nearly knocks me off my feet. When I open my eyes I can see black spots swimming in front of my vision. Almost immediately I can taste blood in my mouth. I have to tell him.
“It’s in the oven.”
“What are you talking about?” King asks.
“A coffee can in the oven. It doesn’t work so I just keep it in there.”
“Boomer you hear that?” King yells into the kitchen. “Look in the oven for a coffee can.”
I hear the oven door open and then some metallic knocking around
and the door close again.
“Got it boss.” Boomer yells.
Boomer comes striding into the living room with my life savings in the coffee can in his hands. There’s a grand total of two thousand dollars in it and it was supposed to be Ethan’s college fund. King takes the can from Boomer and pops open the lid. His eyes bug out when he sees how much is in it.
“Holy fuck! We done hit the jackpot Boomer! We gonna have a party tonight. Hey Corey, get your ass in here.”
My front door opens and the biker who was keeping guard walks in. King reaches in the can and pulls out a handful of tens, twenties, and hundred dollar bills. He waves it in front of Boomer and Jake who cackle with delight.
“Look at this shit.” King carries on. “You been holding out on me haven’t you woman.”
I was afraid he would get around to that conclusion. Things are about to go from bad to unbelievably bad in about two seconds. King returns the cash to the can and shuts it. He tosses it to Boomer.
“Take care of this.” He says. “I got me some business to attend to.”
He takes two long strides in my direction and punches me square in the nose. My head snaps back and I rock back on my heels, my arms windmill through the air as I fight to keep my balance. Blood is pouring down the back of my throat. I’m pretty sure my nose is broken now.
“You fucking bitch. Holding out on me this whole time. I outta kill you for that.”
Suddenly to my horror, Ethan steps between me and King, fists raised in the air. King stops and looks down at my son and just leers at him. Ethan takes a step towards King and kicks him in the knee. King laughs, the in one lightning fast move backhands Ethan across the side of his head. Ethan falls to the floor like a sack of potatoes; unmoving. I scream and fall to the floor next to him fearing he is dead.
“Ethan…Ethan wake up!”
Tears are streaming down my face as I hug my only son fiercely to my body. Hate floods into my heart and burns out any goodness left in it.
“Ethan…Ethan please wake up.” I am crying so hard I can’t even see through my tears and in my panic I can barely breathe.
I lay there by my only son gasping and gulping for air as I struggle for breath. I hold my tiny boy close to my body wondering if this is the last night of his life on this earth. Hugging tightly I wonder to myself how can I even go on living without him?
“Hey uh boss, we gotta get going.” Boomer advises.
“Alright, let’s roll.” He says and in a flurry of boots. The door slams shut and I’m left to my own personal hell.
I scoop my son up into my arms and hold him tight to my chest.
“Wake up honey…they’re gone. It’s safe sweetie. Open your eyes they’re gone.”
I plead with him over and over again but to no avail. I put my ear to his chest but I can’t hear anything beating inside. I place my cheek to his open mouth but no air escapes. My reason for living is rapidly leaving me and I can feel the black suffocating cloak of grief descending even as I fight to keep it at bay. Something in the back of my mind tells me that my son is already dead.
“Ethan honey wake up for mommy… Ethan don’t leave me here alone I need you… Please little bunny don’t leave me…”
Suddenly the air is split open by the sound of more motorcycles arriving. These must be the ones that King and Boomer were trying to avoid. I look around the living room frantically. What can I do? I start to go out the back door with my son in my arms but I realize I won’t get far. I should just hide. I’ll go upstairs and hide in the closet. I shift Ethan in my arms but with one surely broken I can barely carry him. I shift him again to relieve my aching arm, take two steps, and the front door bursts open. I’m so startled I nearly drop Ethan.
Standing in the doorway is a huge man with a huge gun. He’s about six and a half feet tall and almost as wide as the damn door. His eyes blaze with hatred and an angry scowl rips a crooked line across his face.
“Where the fuck is King?” He barks as he steps into the living room.
He barely gives my son a second glance as his eyes take in the wreck of a living room we’re standing in. Behind him walk three other bikers armed to the teeth. They spread out and begin to search through the rubble that is left of my home.
“Why’s your place such a fucking mess woman and what’s wrong with the kid?” The enormous beast of a man asks.
I look down at Ethan. He has slipped a little in my arms and his head is tilted way back and his mouth is hanging open. It’s definitely not a normal position for a child to be in. I reposition my son and support his head this time.
“He’s sick.” I say to the biker. “Now please leave us. I need to take him to the hospital.”
“Tell me where the fuck King and Boomer are.” The ugly biker demands.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“Name’s Ripper bitch, now tell me where your old man is.”
“He’s not here. Bastard trashed the place and stole every penny I had.”
“Fucker’s into me ten grand for juice.” Ripper says. “He’s gone so now his debt is yours so pay up bitch!”
I’m beginning to panic all over again. “I just said he cleaned me out! You just missed him.”
“You telling me you ain’t got no money?”
“No. I don’t have a penny to my name. King saw to that.”
“Still gotta pay bitch. Gimme the kid.”
“What? Are you kidding me? You can’t have my son. I’ll figure out a way to pay you I promise.”
“You pay now or gimme the kid.” The beastly biker demands again.
“But I can’t. What do you want me to do, rob a bank?”
“If that’s the only way you can pay up then yeah do it.”
When I shake my head he turns to one of his brothers. “Hey Splinter, take the kid from her.”
“You got it boss.”
“Noooo!” I scream. “You can’t do that.”
“Watch me.” Ripper challenges.
The biker who is Splinter steps up and grabs my son by his waist and starts to pull him out of my arms. I scream and thrash but he’s just too strong and it only takes a few seconds for him to rip Ethan from my arms. When he does Ethan’s body, still limp just flops around in his hands.
“What the fuck?” Splinter asks. “Something’s wrong with the kid Ripper.” Splinter says, holding Ethan out away from his body like he can actually catch what happened to Ethan.
Ripper comes over and takes one look at him and knows exactly what’s wrong.
“King do this?” Ripper asks me.
I nod. I can barely see the huge biker through my tears.
“Muther fucker! I ain’t a nice guy but I don’t kill kids. When I find him I’m gonna make him pay lady.”
I nod.
“But you still owe me ten grand. I’ll give you two weeks.” Then he turns to Splinter. “Give the woman her dead kid.”
Splinter complies. With Ethan in my arms I feel a little less desperate. As I hold my son close to my body I can feel his body already beginning to cool down. It barely registers when Ripper and his boys leave my house. When the night air is finally ripped apart by the roar of their Harley’s I collapse on the couch clutching my son to my breast. It’s over, but it also is just beginning. While the bikers were here I had something else to focus on. But now that the immediate danger is over I begin to feel the full effects of losing a child to violence. I know he is dead but I just can’t bring myself to call 911 because I know if I do that it’ll be official. The incident will be investigated and a medical examiner will come out and pronounce my boy dead and then there’ll be nothing I can hide behind. There’ll be no protection from the freight train of grief that is coming down the tracks straight at me.
I scream bloody murder as the knowledge of my son’s death slams into me. I can’t breathe, I can’t think, I can only feel. My stomach begins to revolt. I grab a round plastic canister that I sometimes use for magazines. I barely manage to get my fa
ce over it before I begin to hurl. Over and over my stomach heaves until it becomes physically painful to vomit. My throat is sore. My stomach is sore and my jaws ache from clenching my teeth. My head pounds and my body aches, but nowhere near the pain in my soul. I pick up my son again and hug him fiercely and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let him go.
I don’t know how long I lay on the couch crying before exhaustion and sleep finally takes me but it’s a blessed relief. The last thing I remember thinking is that my son is going to get cold unless I get him a blanket. I know how odd that thought is but in my mind he isn’t completely dead and he needs to be kept warm. So I get up and pull the comforter off my bed and lie back down, covering us both.
When the sun streaming through my front window finally wakes me up I have about two seconds of bliss. King is gone and I’m free of his evil influence. I stretch and start to peel back the comforter when I feel my son’s cold stiff body next to mine. That’s when I begin screaming!
Chapter One
Time Lost
Ten Years Later…
My new friend Taylor and I are standing on the corner of Stanford and Main waiting for a cab to come by. We’re on a mission our own version of a girl’s gone wild evening out. I haven’t left my son Diego at home with a sitter in probably five years so it’s high time I had a night out. Other than bar hopping I have no idea what the night has in store for us. I’m told that taxi drivers have the in on everything there is to do in the city so we plan on picking our cabbie’s brain; soon as we find one that is.
I wrap my coat tighter around my shoulders and one more time wish I’d have brought an umbrella. It wasn’t so bad a half hour ago but the moment we’re stuck at the side of the road the rain begins to pour. Taylor holds a copy of Entertainment Weekly over her head in a vain attempt to keep the rain off her hair.
“There‘s one!” Taylor squeals, pointing down the road to my right.
She begins jumping up and down waving her arms but I don’t think the driver has spotted us. Time to get aggressive. I step off the curb and well into the waterlogged street waving my arms and adding my own voice to the night sounds of the city of nearly a half a million people. I’m just about to scamper off the road to the safety of the sidewalk when the yellow taxi makes a beeline in my direction. I take a couple cautionary steps backwards just in case he’s focused on my friend and doesn’t even see me in the middle of the first lane. He spots me and screeches to a halt. I grab the back door holding it open as Taylor dives in. I pile in after her and slam the door.