The Silencer: A Bad Boy MMA Romance

by Aubrey Michelle

  “I see you got your cast taken off. How does your arm feel?”

  “It’s fine. I’ll just need to get used to not having that damn cast on it,” I lied. I knew that if I told her how much pain I was in; she would never let me hear the end of it. As it was, she didn’t want me getting in the cage.

  “That’s good. I was worried about it. I have to make my rounds so I’ll leave you two boys alone.”

  “Actually, I’m about to leave too,” I replied as I stood up and looked out the window before stealing a quick kiss. “I’ll be busy trying to get myself mentally ready for the next couple of days so we might not talk a whole lot. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you at the fight, though.”

  Shelly frowned, still not sold on the fact that I was okay to compete. I didn’t take any offense to it. I know that she was just scared of what might happen to me if I hurt my arm. Fortunately, my opponent was a striker so I figured I didn’t really have much to worry about.

  “You just promise me you’re going to be careful.”

  “Always, babe. Always.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Jason

  The day of the fight had finally arrived. The day that I’d spent more than two years training and fighting for. The day that I poured my blood, sweat and, tears preparing for. It was time for me to have the most important fight of my life.

  I made sure to get to the building much earlier than I normally would. In fact, I was the first fighter to show up. I enjoyed how quiet it was. It was truly the calm before the storm. I took advantage of the peacefulness the building had to offer. I walked out to the cage in between the rows of empty seats. It would be the same path I would take as I made my way out for the main event later that evening.

  I climbed inside the cage and started walking around. Closing my eyes, I tried to visualize the fight in my head. I pictured everything about it. I could hear the sound of the crowd cheering. I could see my opponent standing across the ring from me. I imagined the referee calling for the bell and the fight starting. I visualized myself ducking and dodging as I slipped punch after punch before eventually catching him off guard with a shot of my own, knocking him to the mat and mounting him so I could take him out with some good old fashioned ground and pound. At the end of it all, I visualized the referee raising my hand in victory.

  Back in the locker room, I kept looking at the clock, watching the seconds tick down as the fight got closer and closer. I couldn’t believe how anxious I was feeling. While the cut man was in my locker room taping up my hands, I actually thought I was going to get sick. My stomach was in knots. I’d never felt quite like that before any of my other fights.

  Since this was such a big fight for me, Damon had some friends of his to come in to serve as my corner men. I was thrilled to have these men by my side, especially since I didn’t get to have any kind of training camp. They represented the best of the best in the world of mixed martial arts.

  Not long before we were scheduled to make our way out to the cage, Damon came into my locker room.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I feel good. Nervous, but good.”

  “Are you ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “You got this. Go out there and show the big shots what they’ve been missing.”

  That vote of confidence was exactly what I needed. As soon as the door slammed behind him, my mind went clear, the butterflies in my stomach went away and my nervousness disappeared. I was ready to go out there and have the fight of my life.

  I was determined to make that night the start of a new chapter in my life. I’d been coming out to Stranglehold for my entire, albeit short, MMA career and decided that it was time for new music to walk out to. I wanted something to signify that I was leaving the bad shit that happened in my past where they were and maybe even a little something to say fuck you to my mom and dad in the event that they may be watching. When I heard the lyrics of the song start to play over the arena sound system, I got chills.

  My eyes are open wide

  And by the way

  I made it through the day

  I watched the world outside

  By the Way

  I’m leaving out today

  That’s when I exploded through the curtain to the cheers of a sold-out arena. My opponent may have been a much bigger name than I did but these were my people. These were the fans that paid their hard earned money month in and month out to come out and watch me compete. I didn’t just have my corner men. I had every fan in my corner that night.

  Please don’t cry one tear for me

  I’m not afraid of what I have to say

  This is my one and only voice

  So listen close

  It’s only for today

  Climbing into the cage, I felt like I was home. It felt like it had been ages since I stepped inside to compete. My adrenaline was running through my veins and I felt like a viper ready to strike. I was determined to make my mark one way or another, regardless of how my arm was feeling.

  Tell my mother

  Tell my father

  I’ve done the best I can

  To make them realize

  This is my life

  I hope they understand

  I’m not angry

  I’m just saying

  Sometimes goodbye is a second chance

  Fuck you Tim and Kristie. Those assholes didn’t deserve to be called mom and dad. From that day forward, anytime I talked about them, I referred to them by their first names. I’ve been told by several people that I was being disrespectful but fuck those people too. Where was the respect for my brother and I when we were getting beat on? When thinking about my brother and what they did to him, I just hoped they’d fucking burn in hell for that shit.

  I couldn’t believe the amount of anger I was feeling. I’ve never been an emotional fighter but figured it could only help once I was standing across the cage from Eric Dodson.

  My opponent was already in the cage when I arrived. I would later find out that he was pissed off that he had to walk out before I did. He thought that since he was a big name and that I was essentially a nobody, he should have been given the star treatment.

  During the introductions, he stood in his corner staring at me with an evil smile plastered across his face. He didn’t look the least bit nervous and I truly believed he thought that I was going to be an easy route back to one of the major promotions. His smiling stare continued as the referee brought us into the middle of the cage for the instructions and stare downs. When the referee told us to touch gloves, Dodson simply told me to go fuck myself. Game on.

  Back in my corner waiting for the referee to officially start the fight, my corner men were yelling some last minute instructions to me.

  “Jason, you have to remember that he’s a striker. You don’t have to worry about kicks or takedowns with this guy. He’s got a hard left jab and a heavy right hook. You’re going to have to move around and stay on your toes. He’s most vulnerable the moment he misses a right hook. If you can make him miss a hook, that’s when you go in for the kill.”

  I had to admit that it was nice to have a legitimate team in my corner. I had already made the decision that if I were to ever make it big, this was the team I wanted to train with. I told them the same thing and they said I’d be welcome in their gym anytime.

  When the referee pointed to each of our corners and asked us if we were ready, I knew it was time to go to work. The bell rang and I made my way to the center of the cage. I held my right hand out in front of me in a show of sportsmanship like I do before every one of my fights but Dodson shook his head no. That was fine. He was the one looking like an asshole.

  I was working my footing, trying to stay as light on my feet as possible. That would make it easiest to change levels and dodge as many punches as possible. I was looking Dodson in the eye while trying to pay attention to his hands, looking for any kind of flinch that would let me know a punch was com
ing. He surprised me by throwing a high kick right off the bat, hitting me square in my injured forearm.

  The pain from the kick was immediate and I could hear the bone from his shin meeting the bone in my arm. It made the most sickening sound that I’d ever heard in my life. My entire goal for this fight was to just make it through and hopefully come away with a victory. That goal was quickly changing to simply hoping my arm would make it through the fight without snapping in two.

  Why in the fuck was he kicking me anyway? Everything I knew about him told me he was an out-and-out striker. Every video I watched on him showed him throwing his hands. I was pretty sure that I never once witnessed him throwing a kick in any of the footage I watched.

  It also seemed like he was specifically targeting my arm. There should have been no way for him to know about my injury. I tried chalking it up to a coincidence until he threw a second kick at my arm. That kick hurt even worse. I was reeling from the kick when he followed up with lefts and rights, sending me stumbling backward.

  With my back against the cage, Dodson shot in for a double-leg, taking me down to the mat.

  What the fuck?

  This striker, who I’d never seen throw and kick or take anyone down in the cage had done both of those things to me. It was so unlike his fighting style that I had no choice but to believe that someone had instructed him to do it. The only question was why. Was it to catch me by surprise and try to take me off my game or was it because somehow, he was tipped off about my fractured arm.

  That question was answered when, instead of mounting me to try some ground and pound like any other striker would have done, he started to maneuver himself into a position for an armbar. Dodson had zero wins by submission yet there he was, trying to put me in a submission hold. That submission hold just happened to be targeting my injured arm as well.

  I fought off the armbar attempt with all my might. I locked my arms together to prevent him from stretching my arm in the wrong direction. Eventually, he was able to yank hard enough to break my grip and pull back on my injured arm, hyper-extending it in ways it should not have been moving. The pain was intense and was close to being unbearable. Involuntarily, I let out a scream as the pain seemed to spread all the way through to my shoulder. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I reached my good hand out to tap but right before I did, the horn sounded, signaling the end of the first round.

  Dodson released my arm but that didn’t make it feel any better. When I stood up to go to my corner, my arm went limp. My cornermen rubbed it hard before applying ice in an attempt to prevent any swelling.

  “What the fuck’s going on out there? Why is he targeting my arm?”

  “I have no clue. It looks like someone tipped him or his team off. He definitely knows what he’s doing.”

  Round two didn’t work out much better for me. I threw some jabs here and there but my main focus was to try to keep distance between us. I figured that if he couldn’t get close to me, he wouldn’t be able to take me to the mat and he couldn’t put me in an armbar. My plan was working well at first. Any time he tried to close in, I’d throw a jab, causing him to back up. Eventually, he started throwing those kicks again. My natural instinct was to block them with my arm, which of course, was a bad idea.

  Eventually, he threw a kick so hard, it made my arm snap. I was in excruciating pain and felt like I was going to die. The vision in my eyes was starting to go blurry as the pain started to take over. Before I knew it, the pain in my arm was being replaced by complete and total numbness. Mercifully, the horn blew again, bringing an end to my suffering for the next 90 seconds.

  Shelly

  As much as I really didn’t want Jason to fight, I knew he was going to do it in spite of any medical advice that I could have given him. The last thing I wanted to do was see him get hurt but there was no way I was going to miss the biggest fight of his life. I needed him to know that I supported him, regardless of whether or not I wanted him inside the cage.

  It was hard watching him get pummeled. Every time his opponent came in contact with his arm, I could see his confidence being shattered. He went into that fight knowing he could beat his opponent but I could tell he doubted himself as he made his way to his corner at the end of the second round.

  He needed some motivation and there was no way the men standing in his corner would know what to say to him. I needed to do something before it was too late. I needed to do something before his dream went up in smoke. I didn’t know if it would work. He may have been in too much pain but I had to do something so I made my way over the guardrail and rushed past the security guards, jumping up on the platform right outside the cage.

  “Jason, look at me,” I yelled.

  “Ma’am, you can’t be up here. There’s a fight going on,” one of the cornermen yelled as security made their way over to me. “You’ve got to get down right now.”

  “No, no. It’s okay. She’s fine. Let her stay,” Jason said after glancing over to see what the commotion was about.

  “Jason, look over here,” I screamed as I held up a picture of him and his brother. “I want you to see this. Look at it! This is what you’re fighting for! You came to see him yesterday because you needed strength and courage to get through this battle. Well, here it is! You’ve come too far to see your dream die now. Go back out there and win this for your brother.”

  The glassy look in his eyes changed. He looked defeated at the end of the round but that look changed to one of determination. By the way his arm was hanging, I had no clue how he was going to be able to mount any sort of meaningful offense but I could tell that he was going to leave everything he had in the cage.

  When the bell rang to start the third and final round, Jason rushed out of his corner like a man possessed. Each time his opponent threw a punch, he moved out of the way and countered with a punch of his own. The punches weren’t as effective as they normally were since his dominant arm was useless and he was forced to hit with his other hand.

  Even without being able to put all his power behind his shots, he still had his opponent reeling. Jab after jab was connecting, sending him backward while Jason stalked him like a predator stalking his prey. At one point, he left a slight opening and Eric Dodson grabbed his legs and took him down to the mat.

  I wanted to hide my eyes as I couldn’t stand to see Jason’s dreams being ripped from him. I couldn’t make myself do it, however. Instead, I sat on the edge of my seat, praying to whoever might hear me to help him out.

  Dodson was on top of Jason, trapped in his guard. No matter how he tried to wiggle away, Jason kept his legs clamped together hard. At one point, Dodson put his head down slightly to try to gain position and Jason saw it as the opening he needed. He started throwing hard elbows to the side of Dodson’s head, one after another, they were connecting with a serious thud. They weren’t hard enough to knock him out but they were definitely keeping him stunned.

  As Jason threw elbows, I watched him slowly bringing his legs up behind Dodson’s back. With a quick thrust of his hips, he had his legs around Dodson’s neck and clamped one foot behind his knee. I would later find out that this maneuver was called a triangle choke.

  It was obvious that Eric Dodson was in trouble. I looked up at the clock and saw that there were 28 seconds left in the round. Dodson was doing everything he could to hold on but he was fading fast. There was no way he was going to tap out. Finally, with four seconds left in the round, Dodson passed out and the referee called the fight.

  Through all of the adversity, Jason was victorious.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Shelly

  Jason liked to celebrate whenever he was victorious inside the cage. He made no secret of the fact that he liked to hit every bar in town, partying with anyone he came across that had seen his fight earlier in the evening, For the most part, he would hop from bar to bar until the last bar closed down.

  His celebrating that night was quite a bit different. After his fight, he was pumped up and r
eady to party. Before he left the building, however, his adrenaline wore off. Instead of leaving the venue and heading out to paint the town red, Jason climbed into my passenger seat and we made our way to the hospital.

  The evening would consist of sitting in an emergency room for way too long before being taken back for x-rays to confirm what we already knew. Not only was his arm broken, but it was also one of the worst breaks that the doctor had ever seen. In fact, the doctor said he’d be shocked if there wasn’t some kind of permanent damage done to the arm.

  “That arm is badly broken,” the doctor said. “We’re going to have to put that in a cast for quite a while.”

  “What? No. Fuck that. I don’t want another cast. Just put my arm in a sling so I can get out of here.”

  “Mister Stark, a sling isn’t going to do you one bit of good. You need the cast or your arm is never going to heal. Without it, your bones won’t set right and you’d never be able to fight again.”