Page 100 of My Undead Heart
She pushes up on her toes and wraps her arms around my waist, burying her face in my chest. Little as she is, her hold is tight and safe, a comfort I need more than she knows.
Laughter sounds from behind the door and it’s a reminder that I need to get back to my guys. “I’ve got to go,” I mutter into her hair.
She lets me go with a sad smile, and without another word walks down the hall to rejoin the crowd. I watch her until she’s out of sight, and I have to wonder. How much longer will she stick around now that she’s seen my past? Hell, she’s only had a preview. If she knew how badly my last fight in the octagon played out—the months following—she’d run and never look back. I want to explain. I want to make her see. Let her in enough to share the pain, but that’s completely selfish. I put the idea out of my head and resolve to spend the rest of my night focused on what really matters. Getting my guys through these fights and emerging with a UFC contract for Xavier. Anything less is unacceptable.
Salvador’s fight is the complete opposite of Ricky’s. He and his opponent go the full three rounds and give the crowd a great show, and he wins by points. It’s exciting for the gym and all my South Siders cheer and shout on our way back to await Xavier’s turn.
He doesn’t speak much. I admire his focus and am thankful for it. My mind, as much as I try not to let it, continues to wander back to the past. It’s as if I’m not fully here in the moment. I’m sure no one notices, or if they do it appears my thoughts are on the fight.
Before we know it, Xavier’s called on deck. As the final fight on tonight’s card, this is the coveted spot and expectations run high. We again arrive as a team, and Xavier enters the octagon with total focus. I can’t help but turn around once to find Mia in the crowd. She stands with my brother, Nikki, and Uncle Jimmy, cheering along with everyone else. Our eyes meet because unlike everyone else in attendance, she’s not watching my fighter. She’s watching me. That alone fills me with pride.
As soon as the buzzer sounds, Xavier pounces with his attack. He doesn’t hold back or wait to feel things out. It throws his opponent off balance, and they hit the cage with a loud rattle. I wince because the other guy is gonna have waffle bruises down his back from that alone. Xavier gets in a few great hits, but Sanchez blocks his next attempts and they break apart.
There’s no reason to shout direction because Xavier’s doing everything as he should. He’s more than ready for this night. Sanchez attempts a few kicks, but Xavier reads the third one and catches it in his hand. He throws Sanchez to the ground and jumps atop him to rain down a series of hits that not even I could block.
The ref watches closely this time and shouts a halt to the match. The bell rings and Xavier bounces off the mat and back to our corner. The cheers simmer to an echo of murmurs from the crowd. Xavier paces along one side of the cage while the medics enter to attend to the man down. Before they can reach him, however, Sanchez sits up and waves them off. The crowd cheers and after he stands, Sanchez walks over to Xavier and shakes his hand. The shouts from fans escalate to whoops and hollers. Xavier put on one hell of a fight. Short but precise, and I’ve no doubt he’s earned himself a room full of followers.
Watching the ref raise Xavier’s hand high and declare him the official winner, I should be filled with pride. Pride for this kid. Excitement for my gym. For the opportunities ahead. Instead, what’s on my mind is how my old man is ten grand richer tonight. In some sick and twisted way I’m a part of that. It dilutes this moment. Sours the win. My lips might pull into a smile for the fans, but on the inside I haven’t been this angry in years.
I go through the motions. Xavier accepts his belt, the new owner of this semi-pro title for the time being. I spot the UFC scouts as they talk together and flick gazes at Xavier. All the guys from the gym, including their family and friends crowd around to offer their congratulations. Tonight was a big win for us, for South Side, and I only wish I could allow myself to enjoy the victory.
“Congrats! Oh, my God! Matt, that was so exciting!” Mia winds her way through the crowd and leaps so I have to catch her. Her smile is so damn wide, and with the crazy face paint she looks almost out of this world.
She plants a kiss on my lips, a rare form of PDA and the shock of it pulls me to the present. “Yeah, it was,” I say as she steps back.
Her eyes are wide and exhilaration drips from her words. “Xavier was unbelievable. I can see now why you have so much faith in him.”
“He did good. He did exactly what we trained for.” My lips pull into a smile, maybe the first real one all night, but it’s more for the beautiful zombie girl grinning back.
“Haywood! Congrats, bro. You train some beasts over there at South Side. I’m gonna have to come check it out.” Shawn Spencer, the imposter of a fighter and rival gym owner interrupts our moment. Mia takes another step out of the way.
Forcing a smile I don’t feel, I accept his handshake. “Hey, Spencer. Good seeing you again. Stop by anytime.” He better not, though. Snake is probably hoping to poach my best fighters.
“Sounds good, bro. Catch ya later.” He winks and heads toward Xavier. He’s a bold motherfucker, I’ll give him that. I’ve no doubt he’ll try and sway Xavier over to his gym right now. Son of a fucking bitch.
“So, do you have to stick around or can we head to the party now?” Mia says.
My eyes meet her expectant stare. Party. Right. The thought of hanging out with a bunch of drunk assholes in costume sounds like absolute hell right about now. Glancing over Mia’s shoulder, I spot Kyle waving me over. He’s with the UFC scouts. It’s not possible to miss them all tramp stamped out in their sponsored apparel. “Actually, I need to stick around for a while.”
Mia nods. “Oh, okay. Then I’ll meet you there? I’ll text you the address.”
Damn it. Right before my eyes Spencer’s got his arm around Xavier’s shoulder, pointing at Kyle and the UFC scouts. “Yeah. Hey, I gotta run ...” I drop a kiss on the side of her face, the one that’s not covered in stage makeup, and jog over to Kyle before this day gets any worse.
“Matt Haywood! Here’s the coach of the hour. Noah Bibby, Ethan Sharp, you’ve met Matt before, I think.” Kyle makes introductions.
“Noah, Ethan. It’s great to see you again. Enjoy the fights?” I say.
Ethan nods. “Hell yeah, we did. That Xavier Johnson is really something. You got time to grab him so we can talk?”
This is it. Everything I wanted. So, why is it after I snag Xavier and we sit down to a late dinner with these UFC reps I feel as though I’ve lost the best thing I ever had in my life?
