This is it, I've been officially and completely cleared. It’s time for the fight.
Harry and the state official are going to be in Ethan’s room next, doing the same thing they just did with me. It’s on now. As loud and as mouthy as that bitch Ethan is, he’s probably foaming at the mouth at the thought of tearing into me.
“Want to go over any strategies or plans?” Dale asks me with a wink. He knows I don't, but that doesn't stop him from asking.
“Nope,” I say. “I'm good.” It’s our ritual we do before every fight, every single one of them. It’s the last thing I usually hear from Dale before we walk out. I want my silence. I want my time to get ready. And to be honest, this is the time I get giddy and start to smile. I feel like I always know how the fight will go right about this time. This small time before the violence.
I like to fight, and I like to hurt people when I fight. I don't tend to admit it to many people though. Dale knows, Dad knows, and that’s about it. I'm not a sadist or a masochist. Or fuck, maybe I am? I don’t know. But if I have to take a little pain in order to cause some, I'm all for it. This is one of the best ways I know how to spend a Saturday night. And when I win, I make a shit ton of money.
This is the twenty-fifth time I have fought, and it’s going to be the twenty-third time I win.
Twenty-five isn't that big of a number. I mean, I’m older than that number by three years. It’s small in most respects except for one: How many times you have willing to put yourself and your life in jeopardy. The number two though is much larger to me. Two, as in I have lost to two other combatants. I went up against them and I faltered.
“Five minutes!” comes the loud announcement.
I pull out my phone and slip my ear buds in. I like the way the loud heavy metal drowns out all other noise. It keeps me calm, centered and focused. It's time to blare some Amity Affliction.
A few minutes later Dale waves a hand in front of my face to get my attention.
I pull my buds from my ears and hear the music for Ethan playing loudly in the arena. He’s going out to the cage before me and from the sound of it, his entrance music is close to ending. I’m not sure how long I’ve been closed off with my ear buds in but it was long enough. I stop moving around and stand still for a few seconds, hearing the crowd noise and getting pumped up.
It’s go time.
Dale steps out of the door first and holds it open for me. Everything is a ritual just before a fight. It helps me stay calm and focused. I need to know what’s about to happen. No surprises. No sucker punches.
Walking out from under the stands, the chords of my heavy metal song thrums loud enough to vibrate my chest. This is it, the time to fight. Fuck yeah.
I walk with a purpose towards the cage, I don't saunter or swagger down the aisle like I think I’m hot shit. I’m calm and confident, wearing only my Reaper grin.
“Reaper! Reaper!” some of my fans scream and chant.
Tonight is going to be so fucking good. I walk a little faster, I can’t wait to get started.
I glance into the ring and climb up the stairs to the ref and cutman. They are awaiting me just outside the ring. The cutman smears some petroleum jelly across my brows, to help prevent cuts early in the fight.
Inside the ring, I can see Ethan already waiting for me. He’s dancing around his corner of the cage. He’s definitely pumped up for this fight. As soon as he sees me, his jaw starts moving and he taunts me from across the cage.
Like I said, he’s a mouthy little cuss.
I feel a slap against my back and I step into the cage. The ref calls us up to the middle and I finally get to stand in front of Ethan, face to face. I have him by an inch. I grin as I look down on him.
Being pointed back to my side and him to his, I bring my fists up and tilt my neck to the side to pop it again. The smile on my face becomes bigger, I feel it already, I’m going to cause some motherfucking pain. I’m going to mess up his pretty boy face.
“Are you ready?” Harry shouts to me.
I nod, more than eager to get started.
“Are you ready?” Harry asks Ethan and gets a similar nod.
Ethan isn't smiling like I am, he’s stone-faced. Oh well, I just hope he doesn’t have as much fun as I plan to.
Avery
“Man, I’d like to take a bite out of that,” some guy whispers loudly and then there’s a bunch of snickering.
My head turns and my eyes scan the room, searching for the source. There are too many bodies though, and male bodies at that, crowding this small space. Half of the guys in the room have their eyes on me as I stand next to my best friend Ethan. There’s no way I can tell which one of them made the remark.
I hate it. I can’t stand all the eyes crawling over me. I much rather slink into the back of the room and disappear against the wall. But Ethan loves attention, he thrives on attention. He needs it like the rest of us need air.