Baby Makes Three

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 li

ttle 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?”