In The Cage

by Sandy Kline

  “What do you mean?” I ask, knowing exactly what he means.

  “Every time I am in the zone getting ready for a huge fight you desperately need to talk to me.”

  “Sorry, but this time it can’t wait. This is also going to give you even more of a reason to win tonight.”

  “What, did they increase the purse from fifteen grand to a million?” He asks me.

  “You only get fifteen grand?” I ask. “That’s kinda pathetic isn’t it?”

  “How is this going to help me win?” He asks. “Because right now you’re kinda killing my fighting spirit.”

  “Meet me somewhere and I promise your fighting spirit is going to return like a tsunami.”

  “It better or you’re going to pay. Can you just come to the gym? Bring the little man and he can get his first real boxing lesson.”

  “Oh my god, he’s going to flip. Yeah I’ll bring him. Thanks.”

  The second I get off the phone I break the news to Diego. “Hey sweetie, guess who’s getting his first fighting lesson today?”

  “The old fat dude next door?” He asks as he comes flying into the kitchen.

  “Yeah we’re going to teach him to kick your ass the next time you call him the old fat dude.”

  “Sorry mom. But are you really taking me to the gym for a lesson?” He’s so excited he’s literally vibrating in his shoes.

  “Get on your gym shorts and a sweatshirt. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes.”

  He races down the hall to the bedroom and returns dressed in record time.

  “What, did you have those under your other clothes?” I ask. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Diego talks nonstop the entire time waiting for a taxi and the whole ride over. It’s funny and it’s adorable and his excitement if infectious. Just before we get out of the cab our driver turns to Diego.

  “So uh… are you going to start some kind of training today?” He asks with a laugh.

  He high fives Diego and I slip the driver an extra twenty. Diego runs up to God’s Gym and bursts through the doors barely slowing down. I take my time entering. I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to say everything. I just haven’t got that far yet. I’ve just been thinking that I need to talk to Jake and now how I’m going to say it. When I come in Jamarcus is already fitting Diego with a pair of well-worn boxing gloves. I can see his eyes shining from clear across the gym. This is going to be a day that he’ll never forget.

  I find Jake polishing off a 32 ounce Gatorade. He looks unbelievably sexy. He’s just wearing a black pair of boxing trunks and some kind of leather boots. His hands are wrapped but his gloves are off. A black towel hangs around his neck but it fails to hide his massive chest. I watch his shoulder muscles move along with his ‘guns’ as he moves. Strange how simple everyday movements can look sexy when it’s Jake that’s doing them. I watch his muscles ripple across his smooth body, still glistening with sweat from his workout. I can feel my body beginning to respond to the visual feast in front of me. Really wish I was coming here for a very different reason.

  When Jake sees me he takes the towel and gives himself an impromptu wipe down and it’s almost too much to bear. I’d kill to be that towel right now. Although I’d much rather it was my tongue wiping him down and not some cheap gym towel. I stand and just stare as he approaches.

  “Geez woman.” He begins. “You really gotta tone it down a bit. I can hear your thoughts from way over there.” He says as he points to where he was sitting.

  “Sorry but as long as you’re wearing that.” I say, pointing to his boxers. “And looking like that.” I indicate his entire body. “I’m going to be toned up for the duration.”

  He takes me into his powerful arms. “That’s what I like to hear. Now make everyone here insanely jealous and kiss me.”

  “That’s a dangerous thing to ask a woman in this state.” I reply.

  “You know we do have a couple rooms back there with doors that have locks.”

  “Yeah…I think we’d better take this show on the road. I got some things I need to tell you.”

  “Your loss.” He says as he leads me out.

  After a block or two we come to a bench along the sidewalk that seems a perfect place to sit in the sun and talk. I take a deep breath and begin.

  I tell him about missing two months of my life the lost weekend and how Diego corroborated my memories and how because of that I am sure I was kidnapped and held from Friday to Monday.

  “I have had extensive memories about what may have happened during those three days and you’re not going to want to hear this but you must.”

  He nods.

  “There’s a real chance that I was raped by Boomer or King or both. I never saw any faces so…”

  The reaction on Jake’s face is instantaneous. Before telling him this I expected him to be repulsed by me. I did not expect this reaction. His face contorts into rage. Gone is the amazingly handsome Jake. It frightens me at first. The look on his face now is almost the same look King had the day he ransacked my house and killed my son. I start to shrink away from Jake but immediately his face softens and he draws me into his arms. And that’s the Jake I know and am coming to love. He waits patiently for me to continue and doesn’t rush me at all.

  “The other thing I am almost certain happened is going to be a problem for me and if you are still with me, it’ll be a problem for you.”

  “What do you mean if I’m still with you? Just try and make me leave. Not only am I with you, but I got your back; no matter what.”

  Made bold by his declaration I just blurt out my other memory. “I killed a man Jake and it wasn’t while defending myself. It was revenge. I came across state lines stalking a man and I cornered him and shot him twice in the chest. I stood there and waited for him to bleed out before leaving.”

  “Who’d you shoot, Boomer?” He asks.

  “Wow, I’d have thought it obvious. I shot my ex-husband. I shot Randy King of Pain.”

  His mouth opens then shuts and does it again as he struggles to find the right words. If this wasn’t so grave I’d have laughed.

  “I’m sorry, did you say King? You shot King?” He asks again.

  “Yes dammit. Who the hell else would I have shot?”

  “When?” He asks.

  “I don’t know, what difference does it make?” I don’t get his reaction.

  “All the difference in the world babe.”

  “It was…I don’t know…three or four weeks ago I guess.”

  He actually begins to laugh before catching himself. “Sorry, but you could not have shot him sweetie.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because his agent called this afternoon and put him on the card to fight tonight. Care to guess who he’s fighting?”

  “You?”

  “That’s right and now I really have a reason to kick the bastard’s ass. But I have to ask. If your memory about killing him was wrong, could the memory of…of being raped be a false memory too?”

  “Oh shit…I don’t know. My gut feeling says no. But then Dr. Frazer said false memories feel the same as the real ones so I don’t know. I need some evidence to know for sure one way or the other.”

  “You feel better though, right? I mean, you’ve been carrying this feeling that you killed someone for a while now. I bet you were lying awake at night wondering what would happen to your son if you went to prison right?”

  I nod.

  “Then that’s great news Christine. You’re not going to jail. Did you know the risk of false memories when you first started your hypnotherapy?”

  “Dr. Frazer explained there was a significant risk of false memories but she also said that she has been specializing in hypnotherapy for years and has even testified in court on high profile murder cases. She said she was skilled at making sure I knew which memories were real and which were not.”

  “You still feel that she helped you?”

  “A little I guess. But maybe i
t’s caused more harm than good. I could have done without thinking I was going to go to jail for murder. That’s been a hard one to live with.”

  “Are you thinking about confronting her about the problem?” Jake asks.

  “I don’t know. She’s your friend so-”

  “Hold it right there Christine. I never said she was a friend. She’s just someone I know who happens to do hypnotherapy. You’re far more important to me than she is. My relationship with you is far more important than my… acquaintance with Dr. Frazer. Let’s be clear about that sweetie. You come first in my life. Everyone and everything, fighting included, comes a distant second.”

  Now I did not expect that. “A distant second…even MMA fighting?”

  “Well…maybe not a distant second.” He confesses. “Sorry about that.”

  “Hey, it’s okay. If I didn’t like the sport or the men involved I wouldn’t have married a fighter and I wouldn’t be with another one. So don’t use our relationship as an excuse to pussy out of this next fight. And speaking of the next fight, haven’t I wasted enough of your training time?”

  “It’s okay babe. But you’re right. My muscles are starting to stiffen up so I better get back in there and get moving. Little man is probably finished with his lesson too.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Spinning ‘Round and ‘Round

  The crowd is unbelievable and the announcer has them whipped into a bloodthirsty frenzy. I mean I thought the Blood Sport circuit fights were wild, but this is off the hook! Tonight is the debut fight for The Comeback Kid. That’s what they’re calling Jake now. The buildup in the media for the fight has been surreal. By now everyone in the West Coast knows about Jake the Punisher and his unbelievable amateur record and how it was crushed by a string of 12 losses and one tie as a pro in his rookie season. They know every detail of his time on the underground Blood Sport Circuit and how he got crushed in the blindfold match only to come back and kill two out of his three opponents in the now legendary Mass Attack Octagon fight.

  There are questions that can only be answered by tonight’s bout. Jake’s new manager Stu Nielsen has taken to twitter to promote Jake’s new image and assure his half a million followers that this pro comeback will not in any way mirror his first outing with Cold Steel nearly a decade ago.

  Diego and I see a lot of Jake after his last fight. Initially he does need some putting back together. I don’t mind at all. I learned how to treat both the physical and emotional wounds of a fighter after a winning or a losing bout. Jake, like anyone needs longer to treat the wounds you can’t see. We spend a lot of time talking about other things besides fights and happily we discover that we are compatible in many important ways. I’m glad this won’t be a relationship where the only thing we have in common is fighting. While I enjoy that part of our life together I don’t want that to be the only thing we’re about. Initially he tries to help me recover more of my memory but we soon discover that it’s going to take a lot more than me just closing my eyes and thinking while he asks questions and gives suggestions.

  There’s one bigger question in my mind. Who is Taylor? I’m not even sure where we met, how long we’ve known each other and what our relationship to each other is. I don’t know if she is a good person or someone in league with Boomer and King. She popped up in several of my hypnotherapy sessions and Jake saw her with me at the bar a few times but he said she just didn’t seem to fit in there.

  “She was with you off and on.” Jake begins. “But she didn’t seem to want to be there. Despite her obvious displeasure at being in the bar she still appeared at your side over and over again.”

  “You catch any of our conversations?”

  “Not anything significant. Everyone here either talks about motorcycles or the fights. Once in a while someone will talk boxing but not very often. She didn’t seem interested in either of those subjects.”

  “Interesting…I don’t get a sense of who she is and Diego can’t tell me much about her either.”

  “You haven’t se-”

  “Nope, haven’t seen her since that day you ‘woke up.’ It’s almost like she knew you were coming awake and she didn’t want to be there for it. Know what I mean?”

  “Yeah…I kinda do.”

  We talk for a while longer before Jake changes gears. “Do you know what tomorrow is?” He asks.

  “Nope.”

  “It’s my ten day crunch time. I’ll wake up in the morning and start a workout routine that will increase in complexity, duration, and pain for the next ten days until fight day. The idea is to get me to peak the day of the fight and not a day sooner or a day later. To do this successfully I need to be in the gym or in home in bed or in the kitchen eating and no distractions from my goal of winning that fight.”

  “Hmm…so I’m the distraction you’re trying to avoid, is that it?”

  “Not just you babe. I don’t watch TV or read any books unless it’s the book of five rings or something about Bushido and the like. I don’t listen to any music unless it’s a specially burned mix designed to inspire me. The only person I speak to is Jamarcus and his top assistant who will be helping us for this fight.”

  “Wow…this is serious Jake.”

  “This will probably be my last chance at having a career as a fighter. I’m done with the underground circuit. I’m getting too old for getting my ass kicked. I need to start winning before I get any older or I’m gonna become a crippled bitter old fighter whose body is riddled with arthritis. That can’t be my life path Christine. I can’t do that. Do you understand me?”

  “Yeah…I think I do. Message received. You need to get home and I think Diego would like to have his mom back to himself for a change. Don’t get me wrong, he totally digs y you! But sometimes boys need their momma. This has been a hard couple months for him and he’s still got a ton of questions that need answers and so far I can’t give them. But at least I can give him my time and my love. So I’ll see you at the fights then.”

  We say our goodbyes and I return home to my son. He’s excited for the fight. This will be his first ever fight that he’s seen in person and not on TV. It’s going to be an exciting evening whether or not Jake wins his fight. Ten days pass with alacrity. For Diego fight day is like Christmas morning. To celebrate Jake and Jamarcus sent over a pair of signed boxing gloves and boots signed by Jake and Jamarcus. I bought him an official Comeback Kid tee shirt and baseball cap. The kid is on cloud nine. As for me I have mixed feelings. This will be the first time I have seen King outside the confines of a dream or a dredged up memory from my hypnotherapy.

  We eat dinner at five and by six fifteen we’re ready for the fights. When we step outside there are several taxis standing by and a sleek black limousine. The driver walks over and opens the door. I turn around to see who gets to ride in style but no one is behind me.

  “Ma’am, would you like to have a seat?” The driver asks.

  “Wait a second, this can’t be for us.” I say.

  “Are you Christine and Diego?” He asks.

  “Yeah but we didn’t order this.” I protest. “A taxi is fine for us.”

  “Mom…” Diego hisses. “I wanna ride in it.”

  “Ma’am would you like to get in?” Asks our driver patiently.

  “I guess so… Yeah, come on Diego, let’s travel in style.”

  On the way Diego talks non-stop.

  “Is there going to be blood?” He asks me.

  “I suppose so.”

  “Is somebody going to die?”

  “I hope not. Doubt it.”

  “Do you think Jake will win?”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  “Jamarcus taught me a one two combination the other day. He also showed me a leg sweep and how to get out of a headlock.”

  “Very cool.”

  “I wanna be a MMA fighter for Surge mom.”

  And there it is; now my son is going to be a blood crazed MMA fighter. To think I used to think Hulk Hogan and
the WWE was bad…

  “Why do you want to be a fighter sweetie?”

  “I don’t know, it just seems cool. Jake is cool. He’s a fighter but he’s nice too. I wanna be like him someday. He can kick anyone’s ass!”

  “Diego! That’s not why he fights, and you know better than to use that word.”

  “Sorry mom. So why does he fight if it’s not to kick…butt?”

  “You should ask him that sweetie.”

  “I will and I bet he says he does it to kick butt.”

  “I don’t know sweetie…Sometimes I wonder that myself.”

  The second half of the short ride pretty much goes the same as the first half. Jake has turned into something of an idol for Diego and I guess there are worse people in the world for him to idolize. Just so long as he doesn’t start looking up to King or Boomer. But that’s not gonna happen. No matter what happens between Jake and King, Diego will still be Jake’s number one fan.

  “We almost there?” Diego calls out to our driver.

  “Ten minutes little man, traffic is bad.”

  I look out the window for the first time and am surprised. There’s almost no traffic where we are. I’m about to ask our driver about it when the burner phone begins to buzz. I fish it out and look. Someone…Boomer for sure, has sent me a text message. That’s odd. I click on it and read.

  “Time’s up BITCH!”

  What the hell could he mean by that? Time’s up bitch. Must be King that sent the message. He’s obviously telling me he’s going to crush Jake tonight and it’s going to be the end of his fighting career.

  “What’s wrong mom?”

  “Nothing sweetie. I’m just worried we won’t get there in time that’s all.”

  “Hey driver!” Diego shouts. “We’re not gonna-”

  The sudden screech of brakes is my only warning before the entire front drivers side of our limousine implodes inward in a shower of glass and twisted metal. The force of the impact makes our car spin round and round like a carousel. The centrifugal force generated from the impact alone slams me against the side of the car while my son is pinned up against the door opposite me. We’re both reaching out to one another but while we’re spinning we can barely brush fingertips. Diego’s mouth is open in a silent scream mirroring my own but the sound from the protesting steel cage around us makes hearing anything else virtually impossible. I can’t believe how we’re still spinning out of control. That car that hit us must have been flying!