BLAME IT ON THE PAIN : EPISODE 41 – 50
EPISODE 49
(Alyssa)
“You putting money on any of the fi ghters tonight, little lady?”
I look up at the big man and hand him my wages for the past week. “Five-hundred on Jackson Reid.”
“You mean Jack the Ripper?”
“Yeah.”
“Good pick, he doesn’t lose. Go on in.”
I smirk. “I know.”
I gave Jackson a week. A week to come and find me, a week to make it right. A week to talk to me about whatever it is that’s going on with him.
His time is up.
I didn’t want to go back on my promise to him, but there was no other way I could track him down. He pulled a complete Houdini act, so I’m pulling one of my own.
I know he won’t be happy when he finds out I came here, but if I have to provoke him just so I can get some type of response from him, well, then so be it.
I’m not giving up on him and I’m not letting him run away from me.
He’s seen all my de mons…now it’s time to see his.
The large room is full and the crowd is already going crazy by the time I make my way in.
I look up at the steel cage and fight back a shiver. It’s monstrous, barbaric and to be honest, it intimidates me a little bit.
There’s something so unsettling about it. I can understand why Momma doesn’t like watching the fi ghts.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Tyrone in the crowd. I turn away and flip the hood on my jacket up.
I have every intention of Jackson finding out I’m here, but not until after the fi ght. I already know that he looks to Tyrone before he starts and he’ll spot me right away if I walk up to him.
Besides, there’s always the chance that Tyrone would kick me out because Jackson told him to.
I study Tyrone’s profile for a bit and I can immediately tell that something is wrong. He looks unsettled and he’s biting his fingernails while looking up to the sky.
I’m a little worried myself after seeing that now. I mean, what could be so different about this particular fi ght than any other one?
The crowd’s cheering picks up and I focus my attention back on the cage. This time, I see Jackson walking out in his green trunks.
I take a moment to admire his 8 pack abs, muscular arms, and the rest of his beautifully toned physique.
I also notice his demeanor. He looks completely in the zone. His expression is controlled, his posture resembles that of a brick wall, and well, he looks a little frightening.
Actually, make that a lot frightening. It reminds me of the time he fought Dean in the bathroom.
I can barely even hear the announcer right now because all I hear is the crowd chanting, “Ripper! Ripper!” I’d say the crowd is about 90% male…so the female voices are much easier to pick up on.
I grit my teeth when some woman yells, ”You’re so hot. I want to have your babies.” Followed by another woman screaming, “I’ll let you do anything you want to me. You can stick it anywhere!”
On second thought, maybe it’s best that I take a page out of Jackson’s book and tune out the crowd.
They finally announce Jackson’s name and I can’t help but let out a few cheers of my own. I know he won’t be able to hear me over the frantic cheering that’s going on right now.
Like the flip of a switch, the general mood around the room shifts just then and I don’t know what to make of it.
But then I see someone else walk out on stage.
My jaw drops and my stomach knots up.
There’s no way Jackson’s about to fi ght this massive be ast.
He looks like some kind of a science experiment gone ho…rrifically wrong. His muscles are way too big to be natural, his veins are bulging and his head looks too small for his massive body.
This guy is a tank…he probably eats people my size for freaking breakfast.
They announce his opponents stats and I’m sure I must be hearing things, but when I take another look…I know I’m not.
How the h’ll is Jackson going to fi ght and win against a guy who’s 6’7 and 388lbs?
Jackson’s 6’3 and 235lbs. This is a completely uneven match.
I know this is an underground fi ght club and all…but this guy could ki ll him.
No wonder Tyrone looks so nervous.
Ricardo taps Jackson on the shoulder and says something in his ear.
Jackson then looks out to the crowd to find Tyrone. Tyrone doesn’t give him his usual happy musings, instead, he taps the spot over his heart.
Jackson’s eyes flash as he pats the tattoo over his own heart where Lilly’s name resides and I realize that Tyrone’s gesture was much more significant than I thought.
I watch as Lou-Lou walks up with her cue cards, wearing the green flashy costume that I myself once wore, and even she looks uncomfortable about what’s about to go down.
I don’t even have the heart to mentally curse her out when she gives Jackson a small smile and a thumbs up sign before stepping down.
The bell dings and Jackson’s off to a good start.
I figured he’d start swinging like a bat out of h’ll, just like in the bathroom…but he’s sidestepping and dodging the be asts pun¢hes like a pro.
No wonder he almost never gets h it. Despite his muscular build and the fact that he’s in the middle of an underground cage fi ght, he looks so graceful and poised. He’s a natural up there, like his body was made to do this.
He looks so comfortable in his habitat it’s amazing to be able to watch him.
Then the big brute he’s up against grunts and lunges at Jackson out of nowhere. I’m not sure if Jackson even saw it because it happened so fast.
I hold my breath when the guy pun¢hes him straight in the kidney.
The crowd lets out a collective big gasp and even some ‘Oh, sht’s.’
Jackson stands tall and I feel my entire body relax.
Until the big ogre lunges at him again and his fist connects with Jackson’s jaw.
Jackson rebounds, though and gets him with a few quick jabs and a sharp kick. The guy stumbles and teeters, appearing seconds away from keeling over.
I channel my inner Adrian and before I can stop myself, I shout, “That’s right, baby. The bigger they are the harder they fall.”
Some guy next to me apparently agrees with my statement and lets out an,“Oh, yeah! Let him have it, Ripper!”
I’m smiling and laughing…until the be ast lunges again and takes another swing at him. He connects with Jackson’s face again and bIood sprays.
Jackson staggers back and the be ast uses the opportunity to send a ki¢k to his ribs.
There are murmurings in the crowd then…things like, “He’s never been h it more than twice in the cage, this makes four times in a row now.” And, “This is the longest a fi ght has ever lasted while he’s in the cage.”
I can’t help but look at Tyrone. His palms are drawn together and he’s silently whispering something to himself.
Then I realize what he’s doing. He’s praying for him.
My eyes become glassy and I issue a silent prayer of my own. I’m so worked up I have to take off my jacket and bounce on the balls of my feet to get rid of some of this anxiety.
The guy’s about to strike again…but Jackson dodges it and this time, he gives him a menacing smile.
I start screaming along with the crowd when Jackson loses his dmn mind and starts unleashing pun¢hes and ki¢ks so quick, that if I blink I’m sure I’ll miss a few.
Everything is perfect…until the big be ast rears his ugly head and deals a hard ka…rate chop to Jackson’s ne¢k and headbutts him at the same time.
The move is so savage and so ru.thless the crowd becomes angry and starts calling for the match to be paused.
Especially now that Jackson’s body has gone limp.
My. Heart. Stops.
I realize two things at that moment. One—I swear, I’ll go toe to toe with this be ast myself if he ever lays another hand on him. And two—that I’m completely in love with Jackson.
I’m soon pushing people out of the way and running toward the cage screaming Jackson’s name so loud I think my vocal cords have ruptured.
Tears and screams are ripping right out of me…it feels so similar to the moment I lost my father that it only causes me to scream even harder. “Please, No!”
I feel a pair of strong arms haul me back at the same time Jackson gets back up.
His eyes connect with mine and I’m so relieved I’m about ready to declare my eternal love for him in some massive poetic moment.
Then his eyes narrow and he gives me a look that’s so deadly, I immediately know I’ve made a huge mistake by coming here.
Jackson’s not just ticked off or pissed that I’m here. He looks like he wants to anni..hilate me and r ip me to actual shreds.
I knew he wouldn’t like it. I took that gamble…but I never knew he would get this mad about it.
“Jackson’s fine, Alyssa. He was just pretending to be down since his opponent was playing dirty,” Tyrone whispers in my ear.
I look up and watch Jackson proceed to pummel the giant into a bIoody pulp, that same look he gave me, now turned on him.
Jackson wins the fight in no time and is declared the victor.
When he scans back over the crowd, his eyes fall on me and he gives me the same de..ath stare as before. Only this time he mouths a word that literally causes me to shake. “Run.”
Chills creep up my spine and I hightail it the fk out of there.
BLAME IT ON THE PAIN : EPISODE 41 – 50
***
I run back to the bar and try to calm myself down. I’m almost positive that Jackson wouldn’t actually hurt me…or at least, I was before tonight.
Because I need something to distract myself, I offer to close the bar for Shane who happily takes me up on it.
That’s when it h its me…I never collected my winnings. Dmmit.
I’m just going to have to cut my losses, though because I don’t even want to know what Jackson would do to me if I went back there right now…or ever for that matter.
BLAME IT ON THE PAIN : EPISODE 41 – 50
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