Page 92 of Broken King

I take the open seat between Lenny and Max and wait anxiously for Cade’s fight.

I know it’s the final one of the night, but I had no idea it was going to take close to two hours before he’d come down the makeshift tunnel. All the fighters have put on a good show. And Hudson has hammed it up in between rounds and matches like the hot dog he is.

The air in the arena is thick with excitement as a heavy beat begins blasting over the speakers to a song I don’t know while Hudson stands in the center of the ring. “And now, for the final fight of the night, we’ve got a local up-and-coming heavyweight fighter with four wins to his name this past year. Standing at six-foot-five and weighing in at two hundred and sixty-one point five pounds, put your hands together for Jake ‘The Snake’ Jones.”

The lights lower, and the crowd cheers as what seems like every person in the arena starts clapping their hands or stomping their feet while they nod in time with Johnny Cash’s “God’s Gonna Cut You Down.” This tells me Cade is heading slowly toward the cage.

“And now, the brains behind this event. Philly’s own former MMA champion and my favorite trainer.” Hudson winks at Cade. “Standing at six-foot-five and weighing in at two hundred and fifty-one pounds neat, Cade ‘The Saint’ St. James!”

The crowd roars with excitement.

He looks like a god in his black shorts and black robe. As he walks by me, the Crucible logo stitched in a dark green across his back shines. The hood’s up over his head, so I don’t see his eyes until he removes the hood at the foot of the stairs.

I watched all his fights on television back in the day, but nothing compares to the chills overcoming my entire body when I see the fierce look in his eyes as he gets patted down by the ref before he climbs the steps of the cage and goes through the gate.

I turn to Max. “This is for charity. He looks like he’s gonna kill somebody.”

“He’s a professional, Scarlet. I don’t think you’ve got to worry about that.” Max laughs, and I look back at the cage where the ref goes over the last-minute instructions. “But I wouldn’t want to be his opponent.”

Yeah. Me either.

Then suddenly, seeing The Snake stretching his arms out as he swings them by his side and bounces on his toes, my heart decides to take up residence in my throat. It was easier to watch this from the privacy of my own home when I was in denial about being in love with The Saint.

The bell rings, and the two fighters tap gloves.

Cade turns his head and smiles at me, showing me his dark-green mouthguard.

He takes a step back, giving his younger opponent a chance to get his footing in the ring.

They trade a few jabs, trying to give the people a show.

Then The Snake throws some kind of high kick that looks like it’s going to connect with Cade’s jaw but doesn’t.

It barely misses when Cade steps out.

I grab Max’s hand. “Did this guy not get the charity memo? This is for fun. What the hell?”

Cade bounces on his toes, ready for this guy’s next move. Throwing blocks with his arms. Making it look easy. Like he’s not breaking a sweat. I guess it is for him. But I feel like I’m going to puke every time a hand or foot comes near his face.

They each go to their corners after the first five-minute round ends. It’s easy to hear Jax, who’s changed out of his fighting gear after winning his earlier match and is cornering Cade. He’s bitching about how close a few of those moves came to connecting. But I can also see the smile on Cade’s face clear as day. He loves this. He nods his head toward me as the bell rings again, and his mouthguard goes back in.

It’s not long into the second round when my man’s had enough.

I see the look in his eyes change. He was enjoying this. Now, he looks feral.

And the next time his opponent misses his mark with his leg, Cade connects his foot with the guy’s jaw.

That’s it.

Everyone in the arena watches as The Snake falls to the mat and bounces from the momentum.

He’s out cold.

The Saint wins again.

---