Two Weeks (26 page)

Jackson circles him, dancing around as he waits for another move, another glorious opportunity. Again, the Goliath charges, repeating the exact same move as before. He lifts his knee into Jackson, but misses when Jackson shifts his body directly out of harm's way.

More punches ensue, and I find myself standing up, shaking my fists just like everyone else. "Rip him apart, Jackson!" I scream. I feel like an animal.

They go back and forth like that, with Jackson anticipating every move. The first five-minute round ends abruptly and both men move to their respective corners, moving out of the way for the ring girls to strut around some more.

It appears that nothing's happened at all. Both men are still in perfect health. What happens
next?

The crowd resumes mumbling and screaming when the bell dings. I join in. Goliath once again charges Jackson, only this time, he actually catches him with a right cross to the face. I swear I hear bone crunching and I feel sickness creeping up inside of me.

Jackson's body contorts like a rag doll. He stumbles backward until he's against the edge of the cage. Goliath raises his fists at the crowd; again, they're booing him without restraint.

"What a punch! Could this turn out to be the night that the unstoppable is stopped? How far can the giant Juggernaut fall?"

I join in with the chorus of boos, hoping to see Jackson regain his fervor. As he gets back into position, Goliath charges him again. He takes a jab in the stomach and then a kick to his thigh, losing his balance.

"What the hell are you doing in there?" I scream, slamming my hands against the metal chair so hard that they sting. I bring them up and notice they are actually marked red, but barely notice any pain. I'm not concerned about that right now. "Take him down!"

Jackson straightens his body, but by the time he does, he's hit by another punch to the jaw, and this time, I see blood flying through the air. He tumbles toward the mat and lands with a sickening
thud
. He wasn't blocking well, and even
I
could see it.

"Ladies and gentleman, the
Juggernaut
is coming down. What a punch! He's falling apart. Brick by brick, he crumbles!"

Oh, God. I start panicking. This doesn't seem like such a minor thing anymore.

This is
my
fault. He's under-trained because I've been taking up his time. We've had too much sex and I've drained his testosterone levels to nothing and now he's paying for it. I fed him junk food last night. I'm the worst person on the planet.

This guy is gonna kill him, and it's all because of
me
.

The bell dings and Jackson is already back on his feet. I try to calm myself down.
He's still standing,
I remind myself. This
is
a fight. They are supposed to fight at those, even if it's hard to watch.

"Jug-ger-naut! Jug-ger-naut!" The crowd chants as Jackson douses himself with his water bottle. I can't chant though, not right now. I'm not nearly as optimistic as they are. Only five more minutes left.

Another ding begins the third round and Goliath charges again. So predictable. I close my eyes tightly, nervously awaiting the impact. I don't hear anything definitive, and so I reopen my eyes. Jackson is blocking every punch as if he's suddenly come back to life.

And then, he sends a seriously intense fist flying toward Goliath's head, nailing him right in the jaw. By the way the poor guy reacts, it's like he was shot, not punched. And based on how fast Jackson's fist moved, it may have actually been flying at the same speed as a bullet. I hear that sickening crack again, but this time, it doesn't bother me so much.

Goliath's body goes limp while still being upright. Everything happens in slow motion. His head is still tilted from the punch he received. I see his face, and if his eyes were open, he'd be staring right at me. A small stream of blood trickles from his mouth.

And then, Jackson finishes the deed. I don't even notice the crowd in that moment.

I angle my head just in time to catch Jackson's right jab into Goliath's gut. His spine curves horizontally into an exaggerated U-shape, and then he goes down.

"My God, ladies and gentleman! What a comeback!"

The crowd roars. Goliath falls toward the mat. Jackson remains trained on him like a guard dog ready to strike the throat.

Down Goliath goes until he lands with a
thud
, sending spittle and blood everywhere. The powerful lights make the fluid spectacle a little clearer than I'd like.

He's down—and he stays there.

"The Juggernaut topples Goliath—and he didn't use a slingshot, folks! He did it with his bare hands! It's epic, it's electrifying, hell, it's
biblical
!"

I giggle at the description and start screaming my head off. Jackson is smiling with the biggest shit-eating grin I've ever seen. He raises his fist into the air and everyone goes absolutely nuts. I'm so excited I feel like I might explode. I guess I see why all these people scream now.

"Introducing the new light heavyweight regional champion, Jackson 'Juggernaut' Ames!" The announcer hands Jackson a gold-colored belt and he immediately hoists it into the area and lets out a celebratory roar. It's so loud that the announcer's microphone picks it up.

The ring girls come up to him on both sides, wrapping their arms around his back. Flashes from cameras go off like crazy. Once again, I push away a pang of jealous. That's what they're there for—to look pretty and stand around next to hot-as-hell, ultra buff fighters.

I look around to see nearly every hand in the air behind me. The girls with the sign are still holding it—but it's in two pieces now, torn down the center. I guess they just wanted to share it.

"Jug-ger-naut! Jug-ger-naut! Jug-ger-naut!" Everyone chants and now, I join them. I'm too overcome by sheer bliss to realize that I'll probably never experience this same excitement again since I'm leaving next week.

But that sort of thinking isn't for now. This is a celebration. Jackson kicked some ass. He's got me more riled up than ever. God, I can't wait until we're alone later tonight.

The crowd continues cheering until Jackson finally departs the stage. This time, the fist bumps and masses of crawling hands are multiplied by a hundred. I worry that the crowd will literally suck him up and devour him.

He's okay though. He's just celebrating. He's signing autographs. He's at the top of his game and people want to share that moment with him.

In the background, I notice Goliath stirring and it makes me happy to know that he's not dead. People are helping him to his feet, and he's coming to life again. His face is pretty swollen, but he'll survive.

Jackson

T
he shower feels more like it's for
extinguishing
me than it is for cleaning. This is absolutely nuts. I can't believe how insane it made me feel to have Ally watching from the sidelines.

I've been a crowd favorite for a while, but the transmutation from regular guy to superhero has been difficult for me. Tonight, I was soaking it all up and kicking ass, all because of her. I haven't ever felt like I've had a reason to fight; it's just been something I do.

Since my parents died, it's all been automatic, a mindless execution of routines that keep me going instead of wallowing in confused solitude.

The shower feels good, and I think about Ally's expression the whole time. God, she was so fucking sexy when she got riled up. That look of intensity on her face while she screamed only served to remind me of how she looks when she comes.

I think it's a fair comparison.

I rush through the shower because I realize I need to make my rounds for the fans.

Plus, Ally's waiting for me.

I grab my bag out of the locker and I get dressed as quickly as I can.

"
Great
fight tonight, Juggernaut." I hear that familiar, grating voice from behind me. It's Vince.

"Thanks, Vince. I know you really mean it."

He lets out a hollow laugh that's even worse than his phony approval. "You're such a hero. Such a tough guy."

I'm in a great mood, and I'm not about to let this prick ruin it. I stand up and approach him. "Vince, what the fuck do you want from me? I'm nearly thirty years old. I don't need this schoolyard bullshit from you just because I beat you fair and square months ago."

"Fuck you, Ames," he flares. "It wasn't fair and square. You were jacked up on 'roids."

He's got a point, but barely since the league never expressly forbid their usage. And I, like many others, used them for a short time. However, that
wasn't
the case when I fought him.

"I was clean then," I retort. "You have my word. You lost, fair and square. I'm not gonna lie—I used 'em for a while. But not when I fought you. With you, I didn't need them." I give him a cocky smile and back away.

"Just fight me outside of the ring," he says. "If you win, fine. But I
know
you cheated somehow. And I'm gonna figure it out."

I scoff at him. "Enough of these fucking games, Vince. Get lost." He's driving me nuts.

He turns around and walks away, mumbling as he departs. "It's just one fight, Ames. One fight."

Todd enters just as Vince leaves, totally missing the whole interaction. "Awesome job tonight, Jackson. If ticket sales are as good as I think they are, I might just break even." He gives me a high five and his enthusiasm boosts my mood after Vince's verbal attack. "And can you
please
give me a decision on that contract? You're the best I've got. We could make a ton of money together. And you just keep getting better. I can't believe how you worked that crowd."

I shake my head. "I'll take a look at it, Todd, I promise. I just wanna relax now, not worry about business."

"Fair enough," he says. "Are you coming out for drinks?"

Somehow, I've totally forgotten about the usual post-fight routine. "Maybe. I'll check with Ally. We're heading out of town early tomorrow morning."

"Is Ally the girl you walked in with? Are you guys going steady or something?" He gives me an awkward look that's distinctly Todd, and easy for me to excuse for that reason.

"
Going steady?
" I ask incredulously. "Who says that anymore?"

Todd laughs. "I don't know what I was thinking. You're making me feel seriously old here.”

"C'mon, Todd. You're only forty-five and you said your grandma lived to be ninety-five. You've still got
at least
fifty more years." I smirk hard.

"Shit, well, I don't know if I can handle fifty more years of
this
. Good to know though." He laughs. "But about the girl—it would be good for you to settle down for sure. It's nice having an anchor in this business. I've seen plenty of guys burn out from the drugs and the groupies and the fame. If you want to go far, you've got to keep your head on straight."

"It's nothing serious," I say. "Just a little summertime fling." I dodge his other remarks because I really meant it when I said I didn't feel like discussing business right now.

"Call it whatever you want," he says, "as long as you're happy. I gotta run though. I hope to see you out there tonight."

"Sure," I say, waving to him as he leaves.

I pack up my bag and slam the locker shut. As I exit the locker room area, there's a much larger crowd than usual waiting at the sideline for autographs. Some of the girls are really attractive, but when I notice Ally in the background, I can't even start to think about them, even in a superficial way. She waves to me and it feels like time stops—just for a second.

"Jackson! Can we have your autograph?"

"Can I get a picture, Juggernaut?"

Their cries remind me of my endless duties as an entertainer. But Ally's approaching me, and she definitely takes precedence.

"Hey, stud," she says, gently nibbling her lip. Oh God, my mind is already in the gutter.

"Hi, Ally," I say quietly. "How was I?"

"The most awesomest awesome fighter I've ever seen." She nods to give the statement more weight.

I cock an eyebrow. "And how many fights have you been to again?"

She gives me an innocent, crippling smile. "Just one. This one. I got really worried though. I thought he was going to beat you at one point."

I can't help laughing. "I did that on purpose to add a little drama. Nobody wants to see a fight that ends in five seconds."

Ally smiles. "You're
so
humble. But you've got fans waiting for you,
Juggernaut
. Go take care of them and I'll wait here."

"Oh, right," I say. I had actually forgotten about them. "Here." I hand her my bag and she carries it back over to the seats while I engage my adoring fans.

I sign autographs until my hand hurts and take photos until the flash is etched into my eyeballs semi-permanently. If more of this is what a contract with Todd will guarantee, then I'll probably pass.

When the scores of fans finally head out, I make my way back to Ally. "Damn, that's exhausting," I say.

"Must be a real shame to have people look up to you like that," she says.

I laugh. "Maybe next time I'll have you sign the autographs for me. I'm sure some of the guys would have preferred you over me."

"Maybe," she says. "So are we going out then?"

"How do you know about that?" I ask. "I'm exhausted."

"Todd came over while you were signing stuff. You didn't see him?"

"Well, I'm temporarily blinded from all the flashes," I say. "I can barely see you right now."

"It'll go away soon." She looks off into the distance. "Todd really wants you to come out. He's so proud of you. I think we should have a couple drinks to celebrate."

I'm thankful that she doesn't bring up the contract because I'm certain Todd mentioned it, hoping that he'd win her over and then get her to work on me next. He can be ruthless like that. "Okay, just a few," I say. "I'd really like to get you home and then..."

Ally cuts me off. "Oh, I feel the same way. Believe me." Our eyes lock and I wish that I could bend her over right here and fuck her brains out—but I'll have to wait.