Chapter 45
“I’ve never experienced anything like this,” Sophie exclaimed, her skilled hands working diligently on my shoulder. “Is it always like this?”
The shouts of thousands of passionate fans reverberated through the closed door.
The thunderous roars of their cheers for the sport I loved, the sport I dominated, filled the air.
Beneath my feet, the rhythmic thump, thump, thump resonated, its steady beat syncing with the pulse of my heart.
The familiar sensation both invigorated and unsettled me, a mix of excitement and nerves coursing through my veins.
“For the most part, yeah.”
“Are you nervous?”
“A bit.”
“Just a bit?”
She worked her magic on me, every press and dig of her fingers into my muscles soothing me more than the energy of the crowd. Her presence grounded me.
“This fight is different than the others because of who I’m going up against, so I guess I’m a little bit more than nervous, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Speaking of,” she said, stealing a moment before continuing. “I know this probably isn’t the right time to ask you, but what did Jay say to you that made you so angry yesterday? If you don’t want to get into it now, I understand.”
The last thing I wanted to talk about was what that bastard said to me to set me off, but after hiding my past from the woman I loved, I wanted to be honest with her.
I’d promised her as much. I’d meant to tell her yesterday, but after we’d had sex and taken a nap, I retreated to the gym to do some light cardio before hitting the ring for an hour.
I didn’t do a full training session, wanting to save my energy for today.
“He told me that our mother would be disappointed in me that I’ve held a grudge this long.” My anger boiled up inside me all over again, but I had to get a hold of myself so I didn’t go into the ring raging and out of control.
“He hasn’t seen you in years, and that’s what he says to you? What an asshole,” she said, and it was the first time I chuckled in days.
“Yeah, what an asshole is right.”
“One more question, and then I’ll change the subject.” I nodded for her to continue. “Why do you have different last names?”
“After my mom died, I changed my name to her maiden one, and he kept our father’s.
” I pulled Sophie from behind me so I could see her, not wanting to discuss Jay anymore.
“I promise we’ll talk more about this later on, but for now, I need to warn you about something.
” Her brows dipped inward, prompting me to add, “It’s not bad.
” I pulled her closer. “You’ve seen me spar countless times, but a fight is different. We go all out. It can be brutal.”
“I know.”
“What do you mean, you know?”
“When I first started, I searched you online and saw one of your fights, but I couldn’t watch the whole thing.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
She briefly averted her eyes. “I didn’t know you then, and after we got closer, I didn’t want to offend you by telling you that watching two men pummel each other isn’t my idea of a good time.”
I chuckled, not at what she said but at the adorable way her nose scrunched when she said it. “I get it. It’s a violent sport. It’s not for everybody.”
“But I’ll be fine tonight.”
“You sure?”
She nodded.
“Good. Because the last thing I need to worry about is you while I’m in there.”
“I’ll be fine. Just focus on kicking his ass.” Her smile coaxed one from me, and I thanked the universe for bringing her into my life, especially during a tumultuous time when I needed her love and support the most.
“It’s almost time,” Trevor said, poking his head into the room. “Sophie, Lance will bring you to your seat. Abby is out there waiting for you.” Before I could ask, he added, “I invited her. I hope that’s okay.” He looked from me to Sophie and back again.
“Of course,” I answered, thankful Sophie would have her sister with her in case she wasn’t fine watching the fight. “Where are they sitting?”
“In the second row.”
I locked eyes with her. “Stay in your seat. Stay near Lance.”
“I will.” She turned to leave, but then swiveled back around, planting a kiss on me fit only for the privacy of the bedroom. “Good luck,” she said, licking her lips afterward.
I stared after her until she disappeared, caught off guard but in the best way possible. “Let’s get this over with so I can take her back home.”
Trevor smacked me on the back. “I’m happy to see you’re in better spirits, Jax.” He handed me my headphones. “Quite a change from yesterday.”
I didn’t respond, mentally switching to my prefight routine, which was to listen to Linkin Park’s “Hit the Floor” as he wrapped my hands. There was something about the beat and lyrics that centered me.
As soon as the song ended, Elton appeared in the doorway. “Two minutes,” he shouted, tapping the doorframe before disappearing.
“You ready?” Trevor asked.
“Yeah.”
“It’s easier said than done, but you have to view him as just another opponent. Nothing more. No history. No hatred. Focus on your moves. Breathe. You got this.”
“I got this,” I repeated, standing and stretching my neck and shoulders.
As my entrance song started, we strolled into the brightly lit hallway, the sound of our footsteps echoing against the cold, tiled floor.
Trevor had asked me what I wanted to play as I came out and I’d left the decision up to him.
In sync with the anticipation building inside me, the powerful beats of “Beast” by Rob Bailey filled the air, its intensity seeping into my every pore.
It was the perfect song to hype me up for what I had to do, which was to beat my younger brother.
As I made my way down the walkway, the deafening roar of the crowd engulfed the room, rumbling through the walls.
The screams of the women and the booming hollers of the men created an electric atmosphere buzzing with excitement.
I adjusted my stance, feeling the weight of the moment, and lightly bounced on my feet, surrendering to the pulsating energy enveloping me.
Through the sea of faces, I caught sight of Sophie. She was near the aisle in the second row, exactly where Trevor said she would be. I gestured toward Lance, silently communicating for him to watch over her. He acknowledged with a nod.
“I love you,” she mouthed.
I hoped my wink would suffice because while I wanted to pull her into my arms and ravage her, I could do no such thing. I had to stay focused.
Trevor applied a thin layer of Vaseline on my brows and face to help prevent cuts and minimize swelling.
Then the referee patted me down. Even though I was only wearing blue commission-approved shorts, he had to check me for any foreign objects as well as oil or grease which some fighters use to easily escape submissions.
I was an honest fighter, so he didn’t find anything on me.
The moment I stepped into the cage, I harnessed my confidence in my abilities. My opponent was no match for me. Trevor was right. I had to view Jay as nothing more than a rival because if I unleashed even an ounce of the fury I felt toward him, I’d negate my training and discipline.
I bounced on my feet, releasing one breath after another. This was it, the day I’d been working toward for many months. Not only was I going to defeat Jay, but it was also a big fuck you to Gabriel. The son who hated him was about to destroy his prized fighter.
My song died down and was replaced with another, one I’d never heard before.
The crowd erupted as several men appeared, Jay taking the lead.
He showed no emotion. The same pre-ring inspection took place for him, and when he finally stepped into the ring with me, he barely met my gaze before he moved to the opposite corner.
The tall, lanky, bald announcer entered the ring next, holding a microphone. He’d announced several of my fights in the past. We exchanged nods before he started his spiel.
“Ladies and gentlemen, UFC fans around the world, this is the fight you’ve been waiting for.
Brother versus brother. Introducing first, fighting out of the blue corner, a mixed martial artist holding a professional record of twenty-two wins, one loss, he stands six feet even, weighing in at one hundred eighty-five pounds, the reigning, undisputed, middleweight champion of the world, the notorious Jackson Crewwwwww,” he shouted, elongating my last name to hype up the crowd even more.
The thunderous screams of the fans were borderline deafening, and before any other fight, I’d revel in their delight, but I focused more than I ever have before on what was to come.
Just an opponent.
Just an opponent.
I paced, glancing at Trevor and Elton, who stood on the other side of the octagon, before locking eyes with Sophie. She’d been toying with her bottom lip, leaning into her sister, but once she looked at me, she smiled, and I felt invincible.
“And now, introducing his opponent, fighting out of the red corner,” the announcer continued, “holding a professional record of fifteen wins, three loses, standing at five foot eleven, weighing in at one hundred eighty-four point three pounds, presenting the number-four-ranked middleweight contender in the world, Jay Monroooooe.”
The crowd erupted once more but slightly less so after Jay’s name was announced. A slight ego boost for me, one I would revel in.
Once the referee clapped his hands after emphasizing the rules and expectations and said, “Break,” we merged toward the center of the ring, tapping gloves as a sign to begin.
For two rounds, we exchanged punches and kicks.
I managed to get him on his back twice, but both times he’d slid out of my hold.
He landed a harsh blow near my left eye, knocking me back several steps, and I almost maimed him when I landed a kick to his right knee.
I wasn’t foolish enough to believe Jay wasn’t talented in the ring, but he wasn’t as skilled as I was.
Some of his moves were sloppy, ill-timed.