March Heat

by Chase Jackson

  He hung up before I could even get in a thank you. My mom had taught me manners, even for creeps like Georgie. I’d given her the money from the last two fights. It had been enough for a down payment on a new car and she was happy as could be. But eight grand? That could change my life. Get me out of the crap apartment had been staying in for a little over a year. Or at least some nicer furniture. I could stay at a place that a girl like Berkley belonged in. Shit, Berkley. I hadn’t been able to get her out of my head since Thursday night. Fucking her was the best sex I had ever had. Why did she have to find my card? Why couldn’t she just leave it the hell alone? Nosy girls couldn’t stick around. They find out too much. I looked over at my bag. The item that I’d been hiding in my locker I’d moved back to my apartment, but I kept it locked up in the safety of my gym bag. Away from prying eyes, and away from me. I was my own worst enemy.

  I couldn’t let a girl like Berkley get in my head. I was glad I’d called things off with her. As much as I wanted to screw the living daylights out of her every chance I got, I couldn’t be with her. Girls like that don’t stick around for guys like me. I’d seen it a million times at the gym. I wasn’t going to let a girl get in between me and my dreams. No matter how hot she was. No matter how much she could be good for me. It didn’t matter now anyway, because I’d never see her again.

  But down deep I needed to admit to myself that it killed me a little bit. Somehow she had put a spell over me in such a short amount of time. Her smile flashed through my mind again. The way she tasted, the smell of her hair.

  But I couldn’t think about Berkley now. I had to focus on the upcoming fight. I had to win. If I didn’t win, I had lost her for nothing. And I’d risked my entire career on top of it. I grabbed my bag and walked out the door. It felt heavier than it ever had. It was time to go to the gym, work out some of my pent up energy.

  ELEVEN

  BERKLEY

  “Where are you going?”

  I sighed as I pulled a shirt on standing in our joint closet. “I told you, I’m going to that fight.”

  Naomi rolled her eyes at me, “And I told you that you’re not. That is a super dangerous part of town.”

  I’d memorized the address on the card and it looked it up as soon as I got home. I was going to see Dillon fight, and I prayed with every fiber of my being that he wasn’t there. I’d googled what these underground fights looked like, even found a couple Facebook pages dedicated to them. These guys were beat to a pulp, only inches from death. There was no way I was going to let Dillon throw away his career, just for a little bit of money. I didn’t care if he didn’t want me around anymore. I had this incessant need to save him, just as he had saved me.

  “I will be fine. I have my phone, and if I get into trouble I’ll call 911. I’ll even keep a cab running it makes you feel better. I just have to go and make sure he’s not there. Because if he is…”

  She looked at me seriously. “What are you going to do if he is there? You can’t just stop the fight. Especially with these guys. You remember those dudes in the alleyway, Berkley? There’s going to be a hundred or more guys just like those assholes that this place.”

  I had thought about that, but I’d brushed it off. I hadn’t been careful that night, but tonight I would be. I had to be.

  “To be honest, I don’t really know. I guess I’m hoping he’ll let me talk him out of it. And then if he wants to be done with me, that’s fine.” I’d resigned myself to this, if he really wanted it to be over as fast as it had begun, fine. But I had to repay my debt. It was the right thing to do.

  Naomi shook her head at me and left our room. I could tell that she was still pissed and worried, but she knew she couldn’t stop me. Once I had set my mind to something, I always made it happen, no matter how stupid it was.

  ***

  I took a cab over to the other side of town and even the cabbie was worried about me. “You sure this is the right address, miss?”

  I nodded slowly, looking down at the address I’d written on a notepad as soon as I got home from the gym the other night. “Yes, this is it.” I looked out the window at an old, almost abandoned warehouse. Most of the windows were boarded up, but there was life inside the building. Cars lined the streets, mostly old beaters but a few nicer vehicles as well. I knew I was in the right place.

  I passed my cash up to the front when the cabbie asked, “You don’t want me to keep the meter running?”

  I had lied to Naomi. If Dillon was determined to fight, I’d stay and watch him. “No. I’m fine, thanks.”

  I got out of the cab and zipped up my jacket. It was chilly for a spring night. Almost like the atmosphere was trying to tell me how dark and dangerous this place was. That I should have just stayed in the cab. But as it sped off, I still felt like this was what I had to do. I walked past the bouncer at the front door and he just let me glide through, something I had already learned about the fighting world. Pretty girls meant free of charge. I found a spot along the back wall and stood with my arms crossed as I watched two men inside the cage go at it. They were both bloodied and battered, with one guy grabbing the side of his body like he had broken ribs. When he removed his hand to block a punch, I saw the bruise that was quickly spreading. He definitely had broken a few. I knew that this could happen at any fight, but this guy wasn’t conceding. When the other guy hit them hard enough that he was knocked to the ground, I heard him screaming in agony, but there was no referee to stop it here. They would fight until he was out cold. Luckily for him that was only a minute later. Two big guys in black came into the ring, and pulled him up by his arms, and carried him out while the victor had his arms above his head. He had a busted eyebrow and a shoulder that looked slightly out of place, but he was happy with his win.

  I scanned the crowd for Dillon, shockingly seeing his bald head near the cage just a moment later. I tried to make my way to him through the throng of people, but I didn’t get there in time. They announced his name just as I called it myself.

  “Dillon!” He didn’t turn to look at me, clearly not hearing me over the roar of the crowd.

  “Dillon, it’s Berkley!” This time I caught his attention. He turned to look at me with his mouth in an ‘o’ shape. He was shocked to see me there, clearly having thought I had given up after he told me to leave. I wasn’t that easy.

  He walked back down the stairs and met me at the bottom. “What the hell are you doing here? Couldn’t my saving your ass once be enough?”

  I shook my head, “This time it is about me saving you. You can’t do this. They could kill you!”

  He puffed out his chest, “Honey, I’m Dillon Jackson. I’m unbeatable.”

  A man tapped Dillon on the shoulder pointed up into the cage. He turned away and began walking back. He looked over his shoulder one more time at me before ascending the stairs. People cheered unanimously, waving their cash in the air as bookies grabbed it and asked them who they were betting on. And that’s when I heard it: “Dillon Jackson or Montegro Ramirez and Lucas Boyo?”

  I grabbed a bookie by the shoulder and turned him around, “I’m sorry, what did you just say? How many guys is Dillon going against?”

  The bookie smiled up at me, missing a few teeth. “Two, of course. No one man could beat him, so we’re going to find out if the double team can.”

  Fuck.

  I watched with terrified eyes as Dillon and two other guys entered the cage. I saw the shock written all over Dillon’s face. Clearly he didn’t know what was going on either. They descended on him like wolves. He tried to fight his way through, blocking one guy’s punches while he was on the offense of the other. But they double teamed him every chance they got, one kicking him in the back while the other assaulted his face. He finally got a good swift kick at the one in front of him which landed with his back against the metal of the cage and turned to face the other. But that just pissed off the first guy. He ran back at Jackson and hopped on his back pulling him down onto the ground with him. Jackson
flailed like a bug on its back. He tried to protect his face, but the guy underneath them had him in a headlock and the one that was still standing kicked Dillon in the stomach repeatedly. The crowd went wild. I saw Dillon’s face start to go blue as the guy who had him in a headlock was squeezing too tight.

  I started screaming at them, “He can’t breathe! He can’t breathe!”

  But no one was listening. I did the only thing that I thought would help. I tried to climb over the ropes to get to the stairs. I would have to help him myself. Just as I was about to swing my leg over the rope, a man not much older than Dillon himself in a crisp looking suit stopped me.

  “What do you think you’re doing honey? Nobody but fighters over the rope.”

  I pointed at Dillon, “Those guys are going to kill him!”

  He smiled at me. “Well that’s kind of the point isn’t it? Somebody has to take out the best fighter, so why not me?”

  I looked at him in amazement. This had all been the plan. They didn’t just want to beat Dillon, they wanted to kill him. Just then I heard a woman’s scream from the crowd. “He ain’t moving! You killed him!”

  More shouts from the crowd and I noticed as a group of people started stampeding their way to the exit. The other two fighters were nursing their wounds and walking out of the cage while Dillon lay lifelessly on the floor. The man who had been talking to me smiled and patted his guys on the back before saying, “We should get out of here. One of these people is going to call the cops.”

  They moved out of my way and I sprinted up the stairs and into the cage. Dillon was a mess, blood rushing out of his nose, and it looked like his eye socket might’ve been broken. I watched helplessly for the rise and fall of his chest. He had to be alive, he just had to be.

  TWELVE

  BERKLEY

  I cradled the phone in my hands, holding onto it like a lifeline. “It was awful! The police and the ambulance were en route for like five minutes. I did CPR the whole time, but I’m not sure I did it right. By the time they got him in here they said he been deprived of oxygen and then his heart had stopped beating. I don’t even know if he’s going to make it!”

  I heard Naomi sigh on the other end of the line, “I’m sorry I told you not to go. He’s so damn lucky you were there. But I don’t get it. Why would they want to kill him?”

  That was something that had plagued my mind ever since the man in the suit had escaped. I described him to the police officers, but they didn’t seem to have any leads. The place on a business card wasn’t even a real gym; it was just the address for the warehouse that they were using for that fight. Apparently lots of illegal gambling had been going on there. There was evidence of dogfights in the back as well. It made me sick. The whole place had been shut down for investigation and the actual owner of the warehouse had been called. But it wasn’t like he rented the place or anything—they had just seen it empty, and used it as an opportunity to make money and hurt Dillon. “I guess they just thought that he was someone to be afraid of. His career was really taking off, and I just think that they didn’t want their guys to get beat anymore. And Dillon was really the only one who could beat them. He was losing this guy money, and money makes people do crazy things.” Like go into an underground fighting ring and almost get yourself killed.

  “Do you want me to come get you? I mean I’m surprised that they even let you ride with him.”

  I shook my head, still pacing back and forth under the fluorescent waiting room lights. “That took some convincing. I was a blubbering mess though, so I think that the EMT just thought I was in shock. I think they took me more for observation than because I wanted to go. But once I got to the hospital, it was like playing a million questions with the cops. I haven’t even been able to see him yet.”

  “Well, hopefully they’ll let you in to see him soon. I mean you saved his goddamn life. That should earn you a little bit of visiting time.”

  I heard a woman that sounded agitated at the other end of the hall and I walked around the corner to get a better view. There was a small dark haired woman banging on the desk asking for assistance. “I’m looking for Dillon Jackson! He was brought in an ambulance from a fight. He’s my son!” She had her hand on her heart and I thought she might faint if someone didn’t help her soon.

  “Naomi, I have to go. I think Dillon’s mom is here. I have to tell her what happened.”

  “Well that’s one way to meet the parents. Good luck, and call me when you want me to come get you. I’ll have my phone on me all night.”

  I took a deep breath and ended the call before walking dutifully down the hallway to the frazzled woman. “Excuse me, ma’am? Are you looking for Dillon?”

  She turned and looked up at me, almost a half a foot shorter than I was. Tears filled her eyes and worry lines were etched around them. The same sparkling blue that Dillon’s eyes contained were looking up at me, but her pain dulled them. She was terrified that she was going to lose her child, and I couldn’t blame her. “My name is Berkley. I was with him when it happened. I came to the hospital with him from the fight.”

  She didn’t speak, just stared up at me blankly like I was talking in a different language. A nurse walked up behind the counter with a chart. “Corina Jackson? You’re the mother?”

  The small woman just turned and nodded silently. “Dillon is in critical condition. His airway collapsed during the fight, and he has a partially collapsed lung. His left eye socket is ruined and he’ll need reconstructive surgery once they fix his airway. The doctor’s main concern at this point is that he was deprived of oxygen, and there may be damage.”

  I knew it wasn’t my place to ask but I couldn’t help myself, “What type of damage?”

  The nurse scowled at me. “And who are you?”

  “I… I came in with him. I was the one who was at the fight, I saw it all happen.”

  The nurse frowned at me. “I’m sorry, but unless you’re family I can’t share any of this information with you.”

  Suddenly Dillon’s mother grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly. “This girl might have saved his life. You can tell her anything that you can tell me.”

  The nurse shrugged and scanned through the document once more. “There could be significant brain damage, but we won’t know how much until he wakes up after surgery. A doctor will be out to update you once they finish.”

  She gave us a sad smile as she closed the chart and walked away. I felt Corina’s grip lessen and she started to lean into me.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee, ma’am? The coffeehouse here is pretty good.” I remembered that from when my father had been here for surgeries. We’d literally spent weeks in this hospital, one of the best in the state.

  She nodded and held my hand as we walked down the hallway together. Once we were in the waiting area, I sat her down in a plastic chair and was about to leave her but she wouldn’t let go. So instead I sat down next to her and we waited. We waited for hours without saying a single word to each other. Until finally the doctor came out pulling a mask off of his face.

  “Ms. Jackson?”

  Dillon’s mother rose from her seat and shuffled slowly over to him. I knew we were both praying for good news, but if it was bad? We would both fall apart on the linoleum floor.

  “Dillon is in stable condition. His brain doesn’t seem to have swelled quite as much as we had anticipated. He’s still going to be unconscious for several hours, but it looks as though he’ll make it out of this. Your son is a very lucky man.”

  I felt the relief flood my system as the waves of tension began to leave my body. Dillon was going to make it. And that was all that I needed to hear.

  THIRTEEN

  DILLON

  I took a deep breath and winced. It felt like my insides were on fire. A machine buzzed next to me and Leo’s angry whispers came from what may have been the right side of my bed. I was in the hospital, I just knew it. I hated places like this, where people always try to make you feel better eve
n though you might never be fixed. I remembered feeling like this when I broke my shoulder. Completely helpless, at the doctor’s mercy. I took another breath and again my lungs shuddered under the pain. Whatever those assholes had done to me, I would get them back for this. I had to.

  Apparently I was asleep for almost three days. When I finally came to, they were able to remove the tube that was going down my throat so I could finally talk again. My mother was there, gripping my hands tightly between her own frail fingers. She was going to be really angry when she got a chance to get over the fact that I hadn’t died. I wasn’t looking forward to that conversation. I’d lied to everyone. The only person that actually knew that I was going to match was Berkley.

  Berkley. I had seen her in my dreams a hundred times over the past few days. But now that my eyes were finally open and I was taking in the landscape around me, there she was, asleep in a hospital chair in the corner. She hadn’t been a dream. She was real. She’d been at the fight and had seen everything go down. She had been with me at my absolute worst. But she’d stayed, just like I wanted her to, even though I pushed her away. Jesus, I was lucky.

  Leo was the first to notice that my eyes were open. “Berkley, wake up! He’s awake. How do you feel, son?”

  “Like pickles,” I barely croaked out. My throat felt like there were needles all through it. I would consider that before I talked again.

  My mom looked at me with sad eyes. She looked a lot older than she had last week. That was my fault. “I’m just glad you’re okay, honey. It’s going to take a while, but you’re going to be okay.” I realized I could only see out of my one eye, and I lifted my hand carefully to touch the other side of my face but was met with gauze instead. “They had to do surgery on your face, but they said it should heal in a few weeks. You’re alive, that’s all that matters.” I could hear the restraint in her voice, chasing away the tears. She was trying to be strong for me, and that meant that things were a lot worse than she was letting me know.