PULSE: A Stepbrother Romance (16 page)

“Been waiting
for this for years,” he laughed, spitting a fresh burst of blood onto the mat.
“Win or lose, I get to say I punched Bonesaw in the dick!” He gave me a
sideways glance, his cheek puffy from my earlier blow. “I’m the first
motherfucker to do it, right?”

“Yeah,” I
groaned, straightening myself up. “Of course you’ve got to go below the belt to
knock me free. Anyone could have done that.”

“Maybe,” he
chuckled. “Maybe. That’s the difference between those little bitches and me,
eh? I get the badass in the ring and I
punch
his fuckin’ dick
. Almost worked, too! If that had been a straighter shot,
you’d
lick my balls
just to get me to
stop beating your shit-stain face!”

“Shall we end
this?” I asked, steeling myself for the coming fracas.

“We’re in
your
town, jackass. You call it, we
finish it.”

I lunged into
another flung fist, but I knew I wasn’t ready. My footing was wobbly after the
dick-punch. That’s not what I was counting on, though.

He dove clear
out of the way but shakily, as if his depth perception was just a
little
off.

Exactly what I needed to know.

I’d only
gotten one good punch in, but I had made it count. With the puffy cheek
clouding the vision to his eye, he’d been just barely off his game –
enough for me to change the flow of our match. I could dictate things now. As
long as I kept reasonable expectations for his unpredictability, I could force
him wherever I needed him.

I could scare
him.

He realized
this as I dove another fist at him, then another, using my momentum to carry me
around the ring. He dodged and wove beneath or around my thrusts, crosses, and
jabs, but each step confessed his greatest fear now: from his left side, he
could barely see. He knew where I was coming from, but he couldn’t trust his
eyes anymore.

It was when
he closed his left eye, relying completely on the right, that I knew it was
close – as long as I stayed smart, the match was practically over. He was
seeing everything slightly off, and I knew that he could counter
some
but not
everything
of what was coming his way.

I lunged with
a punch; he sidestepped.

I delivered a
powerful elbow; he dodged.

I feinted a
blow and kicked; he weaved.

I threw my
arms around him; we fell.

Slamming
against the cage wall, I gave him a punishing blow to the gut. Weakened, he
managed a strong jab to my jaw – at full strength, it might have knocked
me out. But I was able to shrug it off enough to bury another fist into his
gut, then another.

Jabberjaw
ripped forward from the cage wall; I pulled back. I delivered a cross into the
crippled side of his head again, and his body weight shifted with the blow. I
took the opportunity to slam my sole against his buttock, surprising and
throwing him in front. He whirled around with a devastating fist in motion; he
whipped straight into an undercut that I had lined up. The fist landed against
my face, knocking me sideways but, again, robbed of some power.

Forcing
myself forward, I struck upwards with a shin, catching him along the side of
his face. If it had been five minutes before, he’d have caught my leg in an
ironclad grasp and delivered a crippling blow to my balls. I hadn’t
dared
to open myself like that during
the match, but he had lost the upper ground between us.

My opponent
staggered to the side, close to the cage wall, and I whipped back my fist. He
immediately composed himself and tried to duck out of the way, but my whirlwind
fist connected, punching him straight in the nose and teeth and sending him
staggering backwards again.

Blood pooled
down his lips; if I hadn’t dislodged a couple of teeth, I’d be almost
disappointed.

“You stupid
fucking
bitch
,” he spat, spraying
blood towards my eyes.

I quickly
wiped my face clean, but he came at me, thrusting a strong jab into my stomach.
I tried to deflect or dodge it, but he landed it before giving his own, mighty
uppercut. I was sent careening backwards, sending an errant bop towards his
head. Jabberjaw ducked beneath it and sprung back up, landing a strong hook to the
side of my face.

He had
learned to take some serious damage. By now, I’d hoped to have already won the
match, especially with that last fist to his face. Broken nose and all, he was
still
coming at me, and I was already
growing tired.

If I didn’t
find an opening and defeat him
now
, I
was only going to grow sloppier, and he’d come back out on top.

He threw
another couple of blows to me as I was kept on the defensive. I blocked a few
with my forearms, but I could sense that he was dangerously close to knocking
me out.

No rules.

Don’t overthink.

Just react.

Throwing
myself forward was, theoretically, a stupid move. But that’s precisely what I
did, lunging a shoulder into him and closing the distance. I was well within
his strike range, and he took advantage of this, jabbing another fist into my
face. But as I did so, I threw an arm around his head, pulling him close around
the back of his neck. In the same movement, I drew his face down, where my knee
flew up into the bloody mess that was his face. He reeled up and backwards, and
I lunged forwards with a hand around his throat. With some help from my
momentum, I lifted him from the ground by his throat, throwing him up and
backwards against the cage wall – lifted just enough for his head to barely
miss the padding.

It felt like
he was held up against the cage wall for an eternity. The moment was frozen in
time as he started sliding down, opening his eyes to face me. My fist was
already coming up…

…And it
plowed directly into his gut, halting his fall. He clenched at his abdomen
before sinking back down, his feet hitting the floor, and I kneed him higher up
in the chest – close to his solar plexus. Then came another hook to the
weakened side of his face. I stabilized my footing, and then gave a sweep that
dropped him to the ground.

I descended
after him, my knee hitting his chest as I gave him one, two, three strong
punches to the better side of his face. His adrenaline couldn’t save him; his
ear was falling apart. I grabbed him and tugged him to his feet shakily, then
threw him sideways against the cage wall.

“I…I give up!
I tap out!” He cried out, slapping his hand against the cage wall.

“No tapouts.
Only knockouts,” I reminded him with a growl, grabbing him by his long hair and
wheeling him towards the center of the cage. He stumbled along with it as I
half-dragged him, then let go. He staggered for a moment, turning around to beg
for mercy, but my fist was already in launch sequence.

“Please!”

My knuckles
connected with his forehead, and his footing gave out beneath him. Jabberjaw
slipped with the force of my punch, crumpling to the floor, and I jammed my
heel down into his stomach and pressed my weight against him. My defeated
opponent didn’t move a muscle, his hands out at either side. After five
seconds, Vinnie hastily unlocked the cage and rushed in, checking on my downed
foe.

The crowd was
going absolutely insane. With my senses returning, I glanced around, watching
spectators cheer with their smartphones up. Darren and Luke stood at the front,
their jaws practically dropped…and then I saw
Saffron
, standing beside them and absolutely quivering with, what?
Fear? Concern? I couldn’t tell.

Oh
boy, I thought to myself, suppressing
a weakened chuckle.
I’m really in for it
now.

“Ladies and
gentlemen of the New Horizons Cage,” Vinnie finally bellowed out,
 
grabbing my wrist and throwing my fist up
for all to see, “…the match goes to the reigning veteran,
Booonesaaaw!
”

SAFFRON

Chapter 19

PENSACOLA

PRESENT
DAY

T
he match was absolutely incredible,
and I felt as if I was truly seeing my stepbrother for the first time. I knew
that Sawyer had reinvented himself, pushing his body into phenomenal shape. I
also knew, logically, that he was seriously
tough
.

But what I saw
was way more than that. Sawyer was astonishingly powerful, and he seemed to
just let himself get lost in the fight. When his face was in sight, his eyes
were all but completely glazed over. His complete, undivided concentration was
focused on the other guy, and he didn’t back down. When he took a hit, he came
right back, either throwing his opponent off his balance or smacking him again.

The other guy
was fast. He was able to keep the upper hand for a while, and he was clearly
hard to pin down.
Jabberjaw
, they had
called him. He’d certainly done a lot of jabbering at the beginning –
something about a police raid?

I would have
to ask Sawyer about that.

As long as he’ll tell me
, I thought
to myself.

I almost
called out his name when he took a vicious punch to the face, but I stopped
myself.
What if I distract him? What if
I’m why he loses?
Instead, I silently cheered my stepbrother on,
willing
him to win,
willing
him to keep fighting.

And then, at
the end, Jabberjaw had started to overcome him – to
win
. I knew that Saywer was rapidly dropping in stamina, and I
wanted to do something – anything.

“Is he going
to be okay?” I pleaded to his bodybuilder friend. “There
has
to be something that we can do! Open the cage! Please,
anything!
”

The man
turned to the other guy, the one with the dreads.

“This has
gone on long enough, Luke! Listen to the girl! Open the fucking cage!”

“Dude, I
can’t,” Luke protested, holding his hands up. “That’s not the deal! The deal is,
the cage stays locked until someone doesn’t get back up! I didn’t make the
rules up!”

“No, but you
sure as hell broke them, didn’t you?” The bodybuilder grabbed Luke by the
scruff of his shirt, right near the neck. He lifted him a foot up. “You see
this girl? That’s his
sister
, you
piece of shit. You’re gonna make her watch this bloodbath? Be a fucking man and
open the goddamn cage.
”

“Darren…dude,
you’re hurting me…” Luke clasped at the bodybuilder’s wrist, trying to break
the hold, but Darren was too strong.

“I will tear
off your fucking balls and feed them to you if you don’t end this travesty
NOW
.”

“Wait…look!”
Luke pointed.

“Don’t you
try it,” Darren hissed.

“No, look!” I
exclaimed, pulling on his shirt.

Darren turned
his attention at the sound of my voice, his eyes locked onto the cage. Sawyer
had regained the upper hand, and Jabberjaw was against the fence, begging for
help.

“No tapouts.
Only knockouts,” Sawyer reminded him.

He whirled
his opponent around and decisively won the match with an
insane
blow to the guy’s face, knocking him clear off of his feet.
The guy hit the ground, and Sawyer jammed a foot onto his chest, standing tall
and proud.

“You just got
fucking
lucky
,” Darren hissed
angrily, dropping Luke to his feet. The scrawny rasta guy rubbed his neck and
straightened himself out, and the thin referee with the crazy thick moustache
fiddled with the lock on the cage. Racing in, he inspected the downed fighter.
Sawyer turned to look around at the crowd, and his face landed on us –
and a brief flicker of panic crossed his eyes when he saw me.

“Ladies and
gentlemen of the New Horizons Cage,” the referee called out in his deep, loud
voice as he threw Sawyer’s hand up, “…the match goes to the reigning veteran,
Booonesaaaw!
”

The crowd
around us had been boisterous before, but it whipped into a frenzied throng at
that. I covered my ears; Darren stepped close, shielding me from the insanity
of the cheering fans.
This is what his
life is like?
I wondered to myself, a proud smile crossing my lips.
They’re all here, just to see HIM fight some
guy?

But my pride
– and my spirits – plummeted when I heard a distinct
thump
against the platform.

The crowd
slowed down in stages. It took the audience a few seconds for it to process
that the champion had collapsed in the cage, and Darren turned to Luke
furiously.

“Watch her.
If anything –
anything
–
happens to her, you’re going to have to deal with me…and
God help you
when he gets back up and realizes you let something
happen to his sister…”

Luke gulped
audibly, nodding furiously.

Darren gave
me a quick
Let me take care of this
glance and immediately rushed for the gate. Flying up the stairs, he pushed the
door open and dropped to his knees beside the referee.

“What
happened?” He demanded.

“I…I don’t
know! He just dropped!”

“We need to
get him out of here, now. Give me a hand!”

“Which one?”

“I don’t give
a damn about
that one
,” Darren
glowered, looking down at the unconscious fighter beneath Sawyer’s legs, “but
we’d better get him too. Bonesaw first.”

I wanted to
rush in and hold him, but Luke shook his head.

“No, girl,
you gotta let the big guy take care of this.”

“This is YOUR
fault, isn’t it? YOU did this!”

“No, no, that
ain’t true!” Luke sputtered, looking at me like I was some hideous monster with
gnashing jaws, ready to rip him to shreds. “Look, it was that other guy in the
cage! I didn’t know they had a beef against each other, alright? I just thought
he was a fan! I thought he was just some other fighter who wanted to throw down
with the
legend
, alright?”

The crowd was
calling out now, a cacophony of sound. I couldn’t tell what was going on
– some were booing, others were calling out my brother’s stage name. The
latter started to pick up steam, and soon the entire throng was chanting his
name.

“BONE-SAW!”

“BONE-SAW!”

“BONE-SAW!”

The referee
was a thin-looking guy, but he proved himself to be pretty strong as he helped
slide Sawyer onto Darren’s strong back. Holding him in place, the bodybuilder
carried him out of the cage and down the stairs, and Luke quickly darted after
them. I managed to squeeze into the group before the crowd cut me off from them
– and there was
no way
I was
letting him leave my sight.

They
continued to chant the name of their fallen hero. I felt beer splash over my
shoulder as they riotously called out in a barely-organized mob.

“BONE-SAW!”

“BONE-SAW!”

As a small
group within the crowd, we fought our way towards a door in the distance.
Darren spotted me among them, and pulled me close, safely further into the
circle from the chaos. Even with a limp body around his back, he pushed people
out of the way – spectators who wanted to get close enough to
touch
my stepbrother, apparently.

It was a sea
of outstretched hands and implacable chanting. If not for the entourage
surrounding us, I feared that I would be swept up into them. Without the safety
of their bodies around me, I’d be lost in the noise.

“BONE-SAW!”

“BONE-SAW!”

Finally, we
reached the door, pushing ourselves through and locking out the noise. It was a
small waiting room of some sort, with an exposed light hanging above some loose
furniture.

“Help me get
him down,” Darren told the others, and I stepped back as they carefully slid
Sawyer onto the couch. His hand sagged off of his chest, his knuckles
plummeting to the carpet.

“You –
come with me,” Darren commanded, pointing at Luke. “Vinnie, stick with the
girl. We have to go get the
other
jackass
responsible for this.”

“Yessir,” the
referee nodded, already diving for a chest of drawers in the corner. He
rummaged around in the top drawer as the others steeled themselves and left
through the door again.

“Is he…is he
going to be okay?” I asked, my voice trembling. “I’ve never seen him fight
– I don’t know what to expect.”

“Never seen
Bonesaw fight?” He paused, looking incredulously at me over his shoulder.
“Aren’t you supposed to be his sister?”

“We’ve
been…distant,” I confessed.

Vinnie turned
back to the drawer. “Heh.
That
I can
understand. I have a sister, you know. Annalisa. She’s a tough little
signora
. We ain’t spoken in years.
Decades, even…”

I reflected
on this as he rushed from the drawer, carrying a small armful of medical
supplies. He knelt beside Sawyer and dropped them on the floor near his feet.

“Look, the
dumbasses…we gotta move him to the floor.”

“Didn’t you
help get him onto the couch?”

“Eh,
sheddup
,” he smirked, his bushy
moustache wrinkling. “You and me, on three. One…two…
three!
”

He tugged
Sawyer down by his shoulders as I grabbed his thick, sweaty legs. We
haphazardly moved him to the floor, groaning with his weight. It would have
done more damage if he just
dropped
the
two feet to the ground, but we managed to get him onto his back.

“Good,
good. Let’s get a look at this guy…”

Vinnie gave
Sawyer a thorough inspection, checking his face and examining his hands. “Hmm. Your
guy is tough. Real tough. I’ve seen him fight in this cage for years.”

“What do you
mean,
years?
”

“What, you
didn’t know?” Vinnie’s thick brush wrinkled again. “Your boy here, he
practically
started
this place! He
was the first cage fighter on the itinerary. Without him, hell, I’d have been
out of a job in three months!”

“He’s that
important?” I was stunned.

“He’s
your
family, you know,” the referee
continued. “Here. Help me roll him over.” I did as I was told, wondering what was
taking the others so long. Sawyer was a big guy, and we had to throw ourselves
into rolling him onto his stomach.

“Yeah...I
don’t know. Hospital’s not a bad idea, but I think the big guy’s just tuckered
out,” Vinnie observed. “This is the first time I’ve heard of him going down
after a fight, though. I mean, he technically
won
, but a no-rules match? I should never have called it.”

“Was
it Luke’s fault? That’s what Darren was saying…”

“Yeah, the
cheap piece o’ shit. That other guy calls in, he starts making these offers.
The boss likes what he hears, the whole arrangement’s thrown outta whack. I
should never have gone along with it. Bonesaw’s a tough guy, you know? He’s
taken down the best I’ve seen. But this was somethin’ else.
That
guy wanted to spill some blood, no
matter what…alright, time to flip him again. On three!”

We pushed him
back onto his back, and my unconscious brother gave a very slight groan. I
thought he was coming back around; unfortunately, he stayed down. The only
motion was the heaving of his chest.

“Do you think
he’s gonna be alright?”

“Who, the
dipshit from the cage?”

“No,
Sawy–I mean,
Bonesaw
.”

“Well,”
Vinnie started, standing up and wiping his hands against each other, “my
paramedic years, they tell me he’s gonna be fine. Sure, he’ll probably say he’s
fine when he wakes up, that he doesn’t feel much. That was always his way. He’s
a fighter to the end, this guy. His body was probably just
waiting
to drop at the end there.