Page 14 of 1 Last Shot

It's never been more obvious that I am out of place here. And although I’m incredibly proud of the fact that I stepped out of my comfort zone, I’m still vibrating with nerves from standing in a foreign setting.

"So, how well do you know the guy fighting tonight?" I ask Hailey in an attempt to distract myself.

"Not very well," she answers. "Kane’s new to the gym, so it’s his first fight under the Bulldog MMA name. We'll see how he does. Jax says he's a bit of a loose cannon at the gym."

I hesitate, but I’m too curious to stop myself from asking another question. "So, what's his story? Why's he so… intense?"

Hailey snorts. "Intense is a tame way of putting it." She sighs before continuing. "To be honest, no one really knows. Jax said he just showed up at the gym one day a few months ago. Told Coach he was new to this part of Philly and looking for a local MMA gym. Didn't look at the prices, didn't ask about classes or Coach's pedigree, just asked if they're taking on MMA fighters and whether or not we had some big guys for him to work with. Took one look at Jax working out with Tristan, handed over a wad of cash, and asked where he needed to sign. He's barely said ten words since then."

I hear the concern in her voice. "Sounds like there might be some bad blood there now."

She sighs again, this one heavier than the last. "Not necessarilybadblood, but…" She straightens and turns to me. "Look, I know I told you the other day that fighters aren’t just people looking for violence, but Kane… Kane seems to be the exception. He doesn’t approach fighting the same way the other guys do. He doesn’t care about taking the technique classes, or about getting better at the sport. Every time I see him working out, honest to God it feels like he’s just looking for an excuse to punch someone.”

That makes me frown. Not that I have a lot of experience with physical fights—inorout of the cage—but I doubt someone would be looking to hurt other people fornoreason.

I turn toward the fight currently going on in front of us. At some point, it went to the mat, so now one guy is on top of the other and raining down punches on his opponent's face. There's blood everywhere. And a few seconds later, the fight finally ends when the ref pulls a snarling and bloody victor off his opponent.

"They all have to likesomeviolence," I comment. “You can’t fault Kane for a quality they all need in order to get in that cage in the first place.”

“That’s true,” Hailey says with a thoughtful nod.

We're silent as the ref raises the victor's hand, and during his interview. But when the cage clears out and the lights dim, a heavy metal song starting to blare through the speakers, I see Hailey start to squeeze her fingers together.

"Kane’s next," she says in a tight voice.

Sure enough, Kane bursts through the smoke-filled entrance and runs down the pathway to the cage. He looks just as intimidating as he did that day I saw him in the gym, with his eyebrows pulled down into a scowl and his body vibrating with energy that just screamsI want to kill you.

And that's even before he rips his shirt off and tries to push past the ref to get into the cage.

I suck in a breath at the sight of his sweaty, tattoo-covered body. A bolt of heat flashes through my body at the same time that my lungs demand more oxygen. There are no words for a man that looks like this.

The ref slows him down enough to do what seems to be a pre-fight check, and then Kane is rushing past him and jumping up into the cage. And the entire time his opponent from the red corner makes his own entrance—a wildly different entrance from Kane, with the fighter smiling and bobbing his head to his own walkout song—Kane is pacing on his side of the cage, never stopping his movements and never taking his hard stare off his opponent.

It's mesmerizing.

"I really hope he listens to Coach," I hear Hailey murmur. "Everyone's pretty nervous he won't."

I manage to tear my gaze away from Kane to look at the guys standing on the other side of the cage behind their fighter. I recognize the guy who welcomed me into the gym, but not the older man next to him.

"The older guy is the head coach? You just call him Coach?"

Hailey lets out a shaky laugh. "Yeah. A lot of people don't even know his real name is Dominic. Everyone just knows him as Coach."

"Hmm. And what's the other guy's name?"

"Tristan. He's second-in-command at the gym. He's the best guy there—he fights in the UFC, the biggest MMA organization in the world—and he's the main coach after… well, after Coach."

I nod in understanding. "And your boyfriend, does he coach?"

I catch the wince on Hailey's face. "He does. He’s retired from fighting, so he does a lot more of it nowadays. Normally, he'd be in there next to Coach—Tristan’s pretty busy with training since he got into the UFC—but Jax and Kane don't exactly get along."

I let out a huff of laughter. "I thought you said there's no bad blood there."

Hailey echoes my laugh. "Something tells me Kane has bad blood with a lot of people." She pauses, then adds, "He broke Jax's nose during a warmup a few weeks ago. Since then, those two don't really train together."

To me that just sounds like part of the sport, but I don’t say that out loud.

I have a million more questions about the gym—and about the man still pacing in the cage—but I don't get the chance to ask them, because the ref pulls the two fighters to the center of the mat. He says something to them, and Kane's opponent reaches his gloves out for a fist bump.

---