Dirty Maverick (The Maxwell Family)

by Alycia Taylor

  “You’re going alone?” he said.

  “Well yeah, but Ian will be there, obviously.”

  “He’ll be busy….obviously. Some of the people who go to those fights get as aggressive in the stands as the fighters. I’m not sure I like the idea of you being there alone.”

  “Dad, Ian said my seat is close to the front, near the cage. I don’t think anyone will try anything but if they do, I promise to yell out for one of the officials, okay?”

  “But…”

  “I’m nineteen,” I told him.

  He had a sad look on his face and I know he was thinking about Emma as he said, “I know, I don’t like it.”

  I laughed and gave him a hug. “We can’t make me twelve again, but I promise I’ll be safe.”

  “Okay. Call if you need me.”

  “I will.”

  The fight started at six. By five-forty I was there, in my seat taking in my new surroundings. The fight was in a large warehouse looking place. It had been designed for this, I think. There were ticket booths in the front and the seating was comfortable and movie-theatre style. The place was packed with people of all ages, races and genders. I knew MMA was popular, but I’d never once considered going to a fight or even watching one on TV. I couldn’t figure out why anyone would want to do it.

  The atmosphere was loud and chaotic. It seemed like everyone was talking at once. Some of them were arguing about who would win and extolling the virtues of either Ian or his opponent Carlos “The bear,” but so far it seemed amiable on both sides. I was already glad I’d come. It was good to be around people that didn’t know anything about what we’d been through for a change. No sadness, no questions, no pitying looks. When it was time for the fight they announced the first fighter… Carlos “The Bear” Menezes. The Bear thing didn’t sound promising for Ian, but I’m sure they all give themselves names like that to sound tough.

  The crowd gave him a slight cheer as he made his way towards the cage. He didn’t look that scary to me…but he was a husky guy, maybe that’s why they called him “The Bear.” I wasn’t going to be locked in a cage with him either; maybe he would look scarier to me if that was the case. When they called Ian out, I noticed that the cheers were louder and went on longer. He looked confident as he made his way out with I’m assuming it was his trainer, following him. That guy looked like a tank.

  Ian took his place inside the cage and the referee called him and the other fighter to the center of the octagon. He gave them a rundown of the rules, talking so fast that he sounded like an auctioneer. I liked the way he held his head high and his shoulders straight. He looked the ref and his opponent right in the eye and if he was scared at all, it didn’t show. The ref sent them back and after a few seconds, the first bell rang.

  Ian was fast. He told me he was good, but he hadn’t mentioned that he moved like lightning. He blew out into the middle of the octagon and as soon as his opponent was within reach he started firing off shots. He was hitting the guy with his right hand over and over with different punches and then he switched to his left and started pounding the guy’s body. The Bear got off a punch or two that connected but because Ian was moving so quickly and he was working so hard to protect himself, they were kind of weak.

  After a bit I saw The Bear crouch down like he was ducking a blow, but he was actually diving for Ian’s legs. Ian was too fast for him and not only moved out of the way, but threw a punch at the same time that landed underneath his opponents chin and caused his head to snap back and him to stumble and almost lose his balance. I don’t know anything about cage fighting but I could tell that Ian wanted this guy to stay on his feet because right then he had every opportunity to take him down and he didn’t. He backed off until his opponent had his balance back and then he moved in with another crazy series of blows. It was a right and a left and the two rights and two lefts and another right. The just when his opponent thought he knew what was coming next; Ian spun around and kicked him in the side with his left foot. The crowd was going crazy.

  The Bear had stumbled way back that time but he recovered quickly and tried charging at Ian. Ian weaved over to the side and the other man missed him but it left Ian with his back against the mesh of the octagon and his opponent right back on him quickly. He had his legs pressed against Ian’s, holding him tight against the mesh as he wrapped his arms around Ian’s shoulders and tried to take him down. As he pulled down, Ian shot his hand up and caught the other man on the chin. It just seemed to stun him, but it was enough to give the advantage back to Ian and suddenly he had his opponent up against the mesh instead.

  The Bear caught him with an elbow to the side of his face, but Ian shook that off and started throwing punches until the bell rang and saved the other man from his wrath. I wondered how much of Ian’s energy tonight was the pent up anger he had over losing Emma. He seemed to be completely focused and judging by the roar of the crowd, he was winning. It took two more rounds for him to convince his opponent to tap out but when it was over I had to say I was really impressed. And I hated to admit it, but watching the fight had done wonders for my own feelings of aggression.

  Ian smiled at me as he left the octagon and mouthed, “I’ll be right back.” I waited for about twenty minutes and when he came back his black hair was wet like he’d just gotten out of the shower and he was dressed in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved blue t-shirt. Looking at him gave me a little flutter in the pit of my stomach. I had to wonder why I’d never noticed just how good-looking he really is. Maybe it was because he looked so much like Emma. Was that creepy to lust after someone who looked just like your best friend? Maybe.

  “Hey,” he said with a very nice smile. The fight must have given him back the endorphins he hadn’t had since his sister died.

  “Hey, that was really something,” I told him. “You are really good…and crazy fast.”

  “Thanks,” He said, looking pleased that I thought so. “Being fast protects my pretty face,” he said with a grin. “I’m glad you came.”

  “So am I.”

  “Are you ready to go eat?”

  “Yeah.” We walked out to the parking lot and he said he would leave his car and get it later if I didn’t mind driving. I didn’t mind, it actually made me feel better because all of a sudden I was nervous and needed something to do with my hands. I don’t know why I was nervous; it wasn’t like I thought of this as a real date or anything…it just felt weird to be out with Emma’s brother.

  “Do you like Italian food?” he asked as we drove out of the lot.

  “Love it.”

  “Good, how about Tony’s?”

  “I love that place,” I told him honestly. It was nice, without being fancy and the food was delicious. I headed to Tony’s and as I drove, I could feel his eyes on my profile. I figured he was feeling a little unsettled about this too so I said, “This is kind of weird, huh?”

  “I was thinking it was nice. It’s just good to be out doing something normal for a change. The fight felt good…helped me work through some of my anger. Do you feel weird here with me?”

  I pulled the car into the restaurant parking lot. I sat there for a second and watched the happy people going in and out and then I finally said, “No, it’s not about being here with you. Everything just seems weird to me lately.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said. “It feels weird to enjoy anything…like it’s being disrespectful to Emma.”

  “Right.”

  “My aunt says that Emma would have hated that.”

  “I think your aunt is right. I’m just not sure how to shake it.”

  “One day at a time, I guess,” he said. “You ready?”

  I nodded and we got out of the car. He held the door open for me and when his hand brushed lightly against the small of my back, I shivered. Damn it, Alexa! This is not a freaking date!

  We were seated right away and Ian…probably out of respect for the fact I wasn’t legal to drink, ordered himself an iced tea. I or
dered the same and when the waiter left, we both looked at the menu. “Emma loved this place,” I said.

  He looked up at me and said, “Yeah, I know. Every year for her family birthday dinner we had to come here. She’d have the meatball sandwich with extra cheese and the tiramisu for dessert. I used to give her a hard time because she wouldn’t try anything new when it came to food. She liked what she liked.”

  “True and most of what she liked was packed with calories and sugar. I never did figure out how she ate like that and stayed so thin. I was so envious of her about so many things. I used to feel guilty about that, but it didn’t affect our relationship. I still loved her. She was one of those people that no matter how much you envied their beauty, you still had to love them.”

  He smiled and looked seriously at me as he said, “You know that you’re really pretty too, right?”

  I felt myself blush. I didn’t really know how to respond to that so I just mumbled a thank you and breathed a sigh of relief when the waiter came to take our order. Ian ordered the veggie pizza and I got the chicken fettuccini. I wasn’t sure that I’d be able to eat it. My appetite had been all but absent since…Emma.

  “So, you didn’t answer me,” he said when the waiter left.

  “About what?”

  “That you know you’re pretty.”

  “I guess,” I said. “But Emma was like model gorgeous. People asked her all the time why she didn’t model.”

  Ian laughed and said, “She didn’t model because she was a big klutz. She would have fallen off the runway.”

  I laughed too. “That’s so true. Sometimes we’d be walking and she’d trip over nothing at all.”

  “She was tripping over something…her abnormally large feet,” he said, still smiling. “I used to tease her about them all the time. They were huge.”

  “Yeah, they were. She was self-conscious about them. Maybe because you teased her.”

  “They were like skis. How could I not tease her?”

  By the time our food came, I was feeling more comfortable than I had in a while. It was good to talk about Emma without anyone mentioning the fact that she was dead. We shared some more stories about her while we ate and then after we finished, we ordered a tiramisu to share, in honor of Emma. While we ate that, Ian said, “So what are you going to school for?”

  “I’m majoring in biology for now. I’m not sure what I plan to do with it just yet. I have been thinking about transferring to a University where they have a good veterinary program…I might like that.”

  “Do you have pets?”

  “No. I used to have a dog, but she died right after I left for college. She was really old though and she had a lot of medical problems by that time. That was hard because I had her since she was a pup, but I was glad she wasn’t suffering any longer. I worked a few summers for the SPCA though. I really liked it. I’m good with animals.”

  “I prefer them over most people,” he said with a grin. “We used to have a border collie.”

  “I remember! His name was Bodie, right?”

  “Yeah, I loved Bodie. He was just a really laid back, cool dog. He would get aggressive though if he thought someone was trying to hurt any of us. Emma and I couldn’t even joke around about fighting or he’d try and tear me apart. He always took her side. Him and the parents.” He looked sad again, lost in his thought of his sister.

  “Did you really feel like that?”

  “Like they liked her better?”

  “Yeah.”

  He shrugged, “I guess…sometimes. It really wasn’t a big deal to me though. I always knew that if I had me for a kid and then she came along…I’d probably like her better too.”

  “Emma was just always so easy to get along with, maybe that was part of it.”

  “Yeah, like I said no big deal.” I could tell he wanted to change the subject so I said, “So did you go to college?” I asked him.

  “Nah, I barely made it to high school,” he said. I did remember that now that he brought it up. Emma used to talk about how he just stopped going to school in his sophomore year and no matter what his parents did, he refused to go back. At the time, I remember being impressed and wishing I had the nerve to do something like that. Not school though. School always came easy to me and it got me away from my house where I didn’t want to be. “I don’t really need a college degree to do what I want to do,” he said.

  “Fight?” I said.

  He grinned again and said, “Win.”

  “So what do you do when you get hurt or too old to fight?”

  “Live off of all the money you made in the meantime,” he said with a grin. It was easy to see that he loved what he did. I had a feeling it wasn’t at all about the money.

  After we finished dessert, we argued a little over who was going to pay the bill. Since it wasn’t really a date, I thought I should at least pay my part. He said that since it was his idea we come out, he should pay. He finally slipped it to the waiter under the table while he was distracting me, asking me more about school and my classes.

  “Do you like the dorms? Emma seemed to like it there.”

  “Yeah, it gets a little nerve-wracking sometimes, living with all of those women. But it’s alright. When I go back, I might have to look for an apartment though. I took the rest of this semester off.”

  “Because of Emma?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I just need some time…you know? I need to be able to wake up just one morning and not…”

  “Remind yourself that she’s gone?”

  “Exactly. I don’t want to forget her…don’t get me wrong. It’s just that it feels like…”

  “Losing her all over again?” He really did understand.

  “Yeah. I have to remind myself every morning and I hate it. I also realized when I came home that this was where I needed to be right now. I think it helps me heal, being around people who really knew her. It’s helped me a lot talking to you. People at school had only known her for a while and they knew “College Emma” and not the real Emma we know.”

  “Well, I hope it doesn’t mess you up with school, but I’m glad you’ll be around for a while,” he said with a smile. When the waiter came back he signed the tag and put his card back in his wallet. Then he said, “It’s still early. You want to come by my apartment and hang out for a while?”

  “Yeah, okay.” I wasn’t sure that going to his apartment was my best idea ever…but I was sure that I wasn’t ready for the evening with him to end. I meant what I said; it did help me a lot to deal with Emma being gone to talk to him. Besides, if I said no I would just go home and spend hours trying to quiet my thoughts so that I could go to sleep and wake up tomorrow to remind myself one more time that my best friend was dead.

  Chapter Six

  Alexa

  Ian’s apartment was a few miles from his parent’s house. We drove in silence mostly, but it was a comfortable silence which if I thought about it would really be weird. Why was I so comfortable with him already? Was it because he reminded me so much of Emma, or because I was also realizing that I was attracted to him. When we drove up into the carport in the front I asked him, “Do you have a roommate?”

  “Nope just me. I would make a crappy ass roommate.”

  I laughed. “I doubt that you’re that bad,” I said.

  “I don’t think so,” he said, as we walked up to the door. “I think I’m a great guy.” He grinned and then he said, “But, I can see how my need for things to be done my way would annoy someone else I suppose.” He slid the key in the door and said, “Someone that is who doesn’t realize that my way is the best way.”

  He held the door open for me and reached in to switch the light on. The apartment was small, but it was nice and really clean for a guy who lived alone. My dad wasn’t a slob and I had to spend two days cleaning up after him when I came home this time. Ian’s apartment looked like you could eat off the floors. I wondered if he maybe was a little bit O.C.D. and that was one of the reasons why h
e thought he’d be hard to live with.

  He gestured towards the little suede sofa in the living room and said, “Have a seat. Do you want a beer?” I knew I shouldn’t since I would be driving myself home…but I said yes anyways. It was peer pressure at its finest. He went into the kitchen and I looked around while he was gone. He had a couple of framed UFC posters on the walls of guys I’d never heard of, but nothing else. He had a big TV that was really too big for the small apartment and I saw an Xbox and a stack of wrestling and fighting and UFC games next to it.

  He came back a few minutes later with two bottled beers. He’d taken the caps off already and he handed one to me and sat down next to me on the little couch.

  “So when did you decide you wanted to be fighter?” I asked him.

  “I’d have to say when I was about sixteen. My friend’s dad was a fighter and I hung around there all the time watching him train these big, tough guys. I wanted to look like them and I wanted to be tough like them. I bugged the shit out of him until he agreed to train me. At first my friend and I both trained with him, but my friend wasn’t really into it. I loved it. I hadn’t realized up to that point how much aggression I really had inside of me. This way I could get it out…legally,” he said with a grin.

  Actually wanting to fight was a foreign concept to me. “I just can’t imagine standing there and letting someone beat on you.”

  He laughed and took a swig of his beer. “See that’s where you would be going wrong. You’re not supposed to just stand there and let them beat on you. You have to keep moving. Part of learning how to fight…a big part of it is learning how to protect yourself.”

  “Yeah, but sometimes they get in some good licks no matter what. That guy socked you upside your head a few times tonight…even though you’re really fast and you still won. I think I flinched more than you did.”

  He shrugged, “Maybe that’s why my head is empty. I’ve gotten the brains beat out of it. Did you like it though…the fight?”