“Yes sir. I'll definitely be in touch. I think me and Chase are gonna go smoke this up right quick and then I'm gonna take off.” I gave him a hug, and then passed the unlit blunt over to Chase. “Here, take this outside, I'll be out in a sec.”
“Okay cool.” he snatched it up and disappeared out the front door, leaving coach and I alone to speak man to man.
“Hey. You know how much I appreciate you giving him a place to stay. I owe you big.” I said. He only held up his hand.
“We're family. None of that. We'll talk in a few days, go have some fun.”
“You know I will.” I said, laughing.
“That's what I'm afraid of.” he said. I caught up with Chase for the main event.
“Hows training been?” I asked. Same little brother but he looked different. A tiny bit older, but I could see it.
“Great. My jitz is nasty now dude, I'll probably be tapping you out left and right. Coach has been sending me to Eduardo DeSilva twice a week this whole time you've been gone.” it was nice to see that he was happy and healthy and excited about life, doing something positive. He told of the grappling competitions he competed in, and what had been happening at the gym in my absence. His mouth ran as fast as his hyperactive attention deficit brain. “Let's light this up.”
Walker lived on the east side of Bayson, on the type of block where you could walk around and smoke a jay without any worry. The danger there didn’t come from police.
“Happy birthday dude, sorry I missed it.”
“It's all good.” he said. With brothers it always is. Puff puff pass and the conversation flowed. Walking outside on a sidewalk was foreign, wearing regular clothes. The air was light and fresh, and I breathed it in deep. The relaxation and let go of cannabis set in, as did a contented smile.
“I’m back man.”
It was nice to see that everything had been taken care of in my absence, but I was back to claim what was mine. My family was tight knit, things were good there. My life was a mess, but I had time to straighten that back out. There was one thing missing, something every man knows once he finds it. My woman.
I knew that I would be restless the first couple of days. My plan was to lay low, do whatever I wanted but stay out of the public eye. Me, my bike, and lots of road. Being in an isolated bubble so long requires a sort of adjustment period, time to remember what being alive is supposed to feel like. After checking up on Chase and Walker, the next stop was her place. I wasn’t sure if she would be home, it was six on a Thursday. Had to find out, force her to look at me and tell me that she wasn’t interested. If you want something, go get it. I dialed her number before heading that way. Nothing.
When I pulled into the parking lot in front of her apartment, I was stoned out of my mind. Nine months clean and sober takes away all your built up tolerance. I stumbled off my bike, and tried to wet my lips and tongue. Everything was bone dry, and I knew my eyes shone like glass.
By the time I got some bearings I was approaching her front door, and the nerves set in. This was the woman that had haunted my dreams for nine months, someone I craved so bad I couldn’t think about her in public without getting an erection. After my first taste of her, the fluzies and fight groupies had lost their pull forever. She showed me what real satisfaction was. Quenched me fully. No one else could fulfill me once I had her, and I knew not to try. There was only her, Angela, my drug of choice.
I was pacing outside her front door, getting my nerve, when it swung open. We stared at each other, and a lump formed in my throat.
“Can I help you?” It was a guy, and he was holding a box in his arms.
“Ugh, yeah. Is Angela here?” I looked past him before he noticed what I was doing, and pulled shut the door behind him. The place was essentially empty.
“She no longer lives here, I’m picking up the last of her things now.” he said. There was something funny about him, who wears a vest and a button up to go clear out an apartment?
“And who are you?” I asked, unimpressed with her choice of suitor. I must have really fucked with her mind if she was dating this guy.
“I’m Brady. I’m doing some work for Angela while she recovers.”
“Recovers? What happened to her? Is she okay?” I asked. The guy had been looking at me kind of funny anyway, but it was like he recognized me all of a sudden.
“Oh. Oh!” the dude’s eyes went wide and he turned white. He covered his mouth up with his hand, and took on a funny posture. “I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t be saying anything to you, you are going to have to talk to her.” he tried to scuttle passed me, but he was a little dude, and he wasn’t going anywhere until I knew what had happened to Angela.
“Hey, you little twerp. I don’t know who you are, but it would be in your best interest to tell me what happened to her? Is she okay?” I pinned him to the wall, intimidating but not criminal. I hoped my finger in his face would be all the negotiation that he required.
“She’s fine! I swear. But I can’t say anything else. Please don’t hurt me.” he was squirming, holding up his hands and squinting like crazy. He even knocked his own horn rimmed glasses off his face in his panicked little frenzy.
“Fine.” I released him, and watched him scurry away like a mouse that had been spared by a cat. I pinched the tip of my nose, frustrated by his reaction. Situations like that could get me into trouble, and I hadn’t been trying to really scare the guy. Tact. Needed to work on mine.
I sat down on the wall. Took a moment to stretch out my legs and enjoy the pulsating high. I had only been there once before but it made me think of her. The time she refused to ride on the back of my bike and made us take her piece of shit car. The way she looked in that dress, how soft her ass felt in my hands that night.
Fuck. Where was she? What was happening? Who was that guy? I didn’t know the answers to any of those questions, and that was the problem. It bothered me that I couldn’t touch her, or even get a hold of her. It bothered me that it bothered me!
I took the bike to a bar, had a couple of drinks. Found a tiny little eyesore type of place, somewhere I wouldn’t be recognized. Kept to myself, went back and forth between thinking and drinking. Felt shittier than I thought I would on my first day out, lonely. Missed her a lot, and was worried for some reason that I couldn’t shake. Ended up passing out at a cheap hotel a block from the bar. Victor would call that a good decision.
Twenty – Angela
I will never forget the day I gave birth to Zoey. She was a few days early, electing to come into the world the same day Cage got out of jail. My plan throughout the pregnancy had been to do it without drugs, a decision I rescinded on my way into the hospital.
“We got you baby, we got you. Just breathe, and all that.” Brady was a doll, and drove extra careful even though I was screaming at him to punch it.
“Go!”
“Baby on board mama, baby on board!” he was excited and nervous, and refused to go any faster than the exact posted speed limit. By the time we arrived at the hospital I was ready to burst.
The first thing I demanded were drugs. Brady stepped up big time, called my mom, finished moving the rest of my things from the apartment to the new house. Made sure I had nothing to worry about.
Zoey was born at 4:21, and weighed a healthy six and a half pounds. Tiny, pink, and perfect. She became my world the moment she took her first breath. I remember holding her in my arms, exhausted, and thinking that there was one person missing from the room. It was a feeling that would grow.
The first few days having her home were an adjustment. Being a new mommy, taking a week off of work, and recovering from the physical process of giving birth kept my plate plenty full. The site continued to run smooth without me, and Bryan said to take at least a few months off. He knew that I was too much of a workaholic to do that, but I appreciated knowing it was an option.
Zoey was the quietest, most peaceful baby. She rarely cried, and was always calm. I would stare into her eyes, and wa
tch her observing the new world. Her wonder reminded me to try to have infant eyes for myself, to see things with a renewed sense.
No matter how busy Zoey kept me, thoughts of Cage would show up. He was a human who had made a mistake, he had a set of flaws that were different from my own. That wasn’t enough of a reason to keep him from his child. I couldn’t come close to convincing myself he was a bad guy. When I thought of Zoey’s best interests, I knew having her father in her life was better than not.
I went over and over my situation, doing mental gymnastics and stressing myself out. Cage was young, and had as much to learn about life as the rest of us, but he was no danger to Zoey. I wondered if I had used my being pregnant as a defense mechanism for myself. Tell myself I was protecting the baby and focus entirely on her so I didn’t have to deal completely with my own personal emotions. A distraction from my being disappointed, heartbroken. Maybe I should have stood by him.
On the other hand, I couldn’t shake the image of Cage snapping that guard’s arm out of its socket. It was the second time he had physically harmed someone outside of competition in a few short months, and although the guy had it coming, it was gruesome. It was obvious he had dispatched of the man as a threat before he cranked, and finished the submission. He was making a point. This is what happens when you fuck with me. He even laid down on his bed and put his hands behind his head after. He would need to drop that type of attitude, or he would end right back in the same place. If that happened, it didn’t matter if he knew his daughter or not, he would be gone.
It was over our afternoon tea, when Brady brought the conversation to me directly.
“So I met baby daddy.” he said, taking a sip. There was a deliberate manner to his speech, and he paused to let it sink in. “A little fiery, but very cute.” he made the okay sign, and winked. It wasn’t something I expected to hear. “He came by your apartment when I was clearing it out, seemed awfully protective of you.”
“You didn’t tell him?” I asked, suddenly hit with panic.
“Honey no.” he waved. “And not that it’s any of my business, but you need to.”
Brady knew everything else about me. In a short time period he had become a good friend, a tight lipped and trustworthy vault. There was no reason for me to keep anything from him, but I kept Cage to myself. Not even my mom knew. Bryan suspected, but didn’t ask. He was the type to let you choose what information you volunteered. I wasn’t sure why it was such a massive secret to me, or why I felt it should be.
“I know.” I said. There was no resistance left in me, it was only a matter of finding him.
“So who is he?” Brady wanted to know, and I wanted to tell someone the truth.
“This guy. A fighter.” I said, contemplating how to best explain Cage.
“Oh boy. We may have to add some liquor to this tea.” Brady said, and stood up. He was serious.
One shot each, more in our tea, and twenty minutes later and we were both crying. Cage, what happened to his mom, his brother, the whole situation with us, jail, the guard going into his cell off duty. The date. Our sparring session. Talking about our history made me want to relive it, to pick it up where we left off.
“You need to go find him, tell him what’s what.” Brady reached a firm conclusion. I agreed.
That would prove a bit harder than initially expected. The house he lived in before was up for sale, and his phone was going straight to voicemail. The only option I was left with was to call on Walker, although we’d never been formally introduced. So I found the number for the gym, and dialed the number.
“Walker.”
“Hello? Hi.” I said.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, ugh, my name is Angela, and I’m a friend of Cage.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. And he’s not answering his phone, and I have an urgent matter to speak to him about.”
“You’re gonna have to talk to Cage.” click. Old school fight coaches aren’t typically warm and fuzzy. Walker had a military crew cut, and tattoos all over his back, arms, and legs. His face settled naturally into a bit of a scowl, but everyone who knew him seemed to love him. I called right back, it’s not like he could hurt me through the phone.
“Walker.”
“Ugh, hi. It’s Angela again. I think we got disconnected.” I said. I could hear him snort on the other end of the phone.
“Can I help you with something miss?” he asked. I could hear the agitation in his voice.
“Look, I really need to speak with Cage. I’m not trying to get an autograph or a date, it’s about something personal and very serious. Please help me.” I laid it all out, and hoped that something I said got through to him.
“One second.” he didn’t cover the mic on the phone, and I heard him yelling Chase’s name a couple times. “Did Cage hang out with some chick named Angela?” I heard Chase say yes, and Walker came back on the line. “Fine. He’s in the middle of fucking nowhere, but I’ll give you the address. Got a pen?” he asked. Of course I did.
“Thank you so much.”
“No problem.” click.
I had an address. If I waited, I would chicken out. I put it in my GPS, and headed that way. Cage had certainly chose an odd location. There were no other properties within a few miles of his new lot. I listened to music and chomped gum, tried to focus on driving instead of what I was driving to do.
Twenty One - Angela
The road I turned onto was long and windy, and eventually changed over to dirt. I wasn’t sure what I expected to find back there. Cage had proven himself unpredictable, so I had to wait and see what was going on with him. It had been almost a year and felt longer. A whirlwind period of time that included my having our baby had passed. A lifetime.
Inside, the secret named Zoey was the one eating me alive. Telling Cage about her being the main driver for my visit.
My stance had changed on the issue of keeping it from him. I couldn’t, not forever. It was wrong, and who was I protecting really? Of course Zoey would always be taken care of, I would make sure of it. Ignoring an unfavorable reality doesn’t make it go away, and it will be there waiting for you to face it by the time you decide to. He would always be her father.
A week of being home and recovering had done me good, mentally more than anything. My body was bouncing back quickly, and I had regained my energy. I was able to leave Zoey behind with Brady for short periods of time. It was time for me to see Cage, simple as that.
The road was muddy, and the four wheel drive of my new SUV came in handy. Cage’s cabin was the only one for miles, and at the end of the road. Well off the beaten path. The construction was new, a shack purposely hidden away. That panicked feeling that rushes over you when you realize you are about to do something that scares you. My chest tightened, and I turned off the ignition. The SUV was parked right in front of his log cabin, and I cautiously stepped out to, forcing myself to walk up to his door.
Walker had told me Cage was recharging, it looked like he might be hibernating. The place was small, quite a change from the mountainous, Cribs style mansion he lived in the last time I had known him. I knocked three times on the door.
“Cage!” I said, and knocked again. I didn’t how to stand. Should I smile? A few seconds passed, and I held up my fist to knock again. The door swung open before I got that far. A bearded hobo with bloodshot eyes and a stocking cap stood looking back at me from the doorway.
“Angela.” he said it like he didn’t believe it, like I was a ghost. The man was Cage, and he looked like hell. His arms were around me in an instant, my face in his chest so I had to smell his cologne. Same smell as before, although I wasn’t quite sure how I remembered. “You look amazing. Here, come inside.” like a day hadn’t passed between us. He was glad to see me, but when I entered in the front door, his cluttered state of mind became evident. Nothing didn’t have a pizza box on it, and there were more beer cans than at a frat house. There was even a smell. Nothing dead or rotten,
but there was a smell.
“Training hard huh?” I asked. After crying over him more times than I care to admit, and being away from him the entire time I carried his child, I still I fell into the playful dynamic of our relationship. I knew nothing else with him.
“Ugh, yeah.” he laughed. “I don’t think I’m gonna take anymore fights. You want a beer?”
“No thanks, it’s noon.”
“Right. I’m gonna have one.” he cracked the tab, and took a drink.
“What do you mean you aren’t gonna take anymore fights?” I asked. The way he said it had a sort of casual finality to it that threw me off. Everyone was talking about Cage’s return to fighting, about how much of a blockbuster the Westerson fight would be.
“Let’s go sit down on the porch and talk. It’s been a really long time.” he said. I could do that. I followed him to the back door, looking around at the mess he was living in. “What do you think?” he asked, stepping outside and showing off the view behind the cabin. It was something out of a book for kids. A babbling little creek, a forest, and a handful of bird feeders hanging in the surrounding trees.
“It’s pretty.” I said, taking it in. The chirping and whistling of birds provided a fitting soundtrack to the scene of serenity. There were citronella candles to keep away bugs, and a handful of scattered beer cans littered on the floor. Mostly crushed.
“Sure you don’t want a beer?” he asked. There were two chairs waiting for us, and we sat down. He was right in front of me, back in my life.
“I’m fine. You been drinking a lot?” I asked, making a reasonable inference.
“Pairs well with thinking.” he said, holding up his can for a toast with himself. He stared into it while he put down a few healthy swallows.
“And the beard?”
“And the beard.” he ran his fingers through it, and shifted his stare to me. He looked different than when I saw him last, but even behind the beard, his eyes were the same. “If I knew you were coming, I would have cleaned up a little. Maybe trimmed this thing.”
Scrapper: MMA Badboy Romance Page 13