Page 90 of Beyond the Cage
There, I walk into one hell of a pow-wow. Mannie and just about all his trainers are in one corner talking excitedly, while Carl is in another corner on his phone. Even Chels and Damon are in the middle of it.
“Sweetheart! You were in there so long. We were getting a little worried.”
“I’m okay, Mom. I had a minor meltdown in the shower, but I’m fine now.”
“Sit. I’ll get your hot chocolate.”
I curl up next to my father and lay my head on his shoulder. He’s the one man I know I can always trust. He kisses my forehead and wraps his arm around me protectively.
“Honey, the detective is here,” he whispers.
I look up at the man as he walks over to me from the huddle.
“Jasmine…Detective John Victor. I just need to ask you a few questions.”
I nod but don’t move from my dad’s embrace. Detective John Victor…everything about him looks average – average height, average build, average looks. He does, however, have a dark chocolate appeal that many women go for. I would guess he does pretty well with the ladies. As I answer his questions, pieces of the conversation in the huddle drift over to me and I catch the gist of Cameron’s plan. He walks out then, dropping his duffle, en route to his team. I jump up and cut him off before he gets there.
“That’s your plan? What are youthinking?” His eyes tell me not to worry. “We all know Mikhail doesn’t play fair. If you give him so much as –”
A hand on my shoulder stops me, and I turn to see Mannie behind me.
“He knows what he’s doing.”
Mannie’s confidence disarms me.He’s right. Look at everything Cameron just did to save me. But still…
I turn to the detective. “And what do you think of this plan?” I ask.
“Hey, if this works, the bad guy gets what’s coming to him then we swoop in and take him in.” He shrugs.
“Fine.” I turn to face Cameron once more. “But I want to be there.”
He gives me a scolding stare, but I square my shoulders and look him dead in the eye. “You’re not leaving me behind. I want to see the look on his face when you kick his ass.”
***
From where I am, I’ll probably be splashed with sweat and blood. For the first time, it’s not a problem…as long as it’s Mikhail’s. He should suffer for what he tried to do to me. They’re both in the cage, staring each other down. Apparently, the final has different rules, which the ref is explaining. I only know there will be three, five-minute rounds. I pray Mikhail doesn’t make it past the first.
Adjusting the hood of Cameron’s pullover, I keep my face obscured. As far as anyone knows, I’m just his water boy. I scan the arena nervously. It’s a bigger venue, so a bigger crowd. Excitement, anticipation, impatience…the mood is quite varied. They do seem to be leaning in Cameron’s favor, though. When I look back to the cage, they bump fists and step back. Mikhail is looking smug. I can’t wait for Cameron to knock that turtle-looking, sanctimonious, dickhead on his ass.
The bell goes off and I hold my breath, drowning out the chaos of the crowd. Mikhail smirks and circles the cage. Cameron waits in the middle, watching him cautiously. After he makes a full three-sixty turn and they’re face to face again, they just stand there. They stare at each other as if sizing the other one up. The arena is dead quiet. A woman screams, piercing the silence – a loud, shrill sound made out of the inability to contain her excitement. It scares the shit out of me, and the breath I was holding comes out in a rush. As if it was his cue, Mikhail charges. The arena erupts into a frenzy of screams, shouts, blaring horns, and scattered applause.
He throws a punch and Cameron ducks, dodging the blow. They continue like that for a while, Mikhail feeling him out. When the bell sounds again, they return to their corners.
“You ready?” Mannie asks him.
He nods with determination.
“Okay…just like we planned. Don’t give him too much leverage.”
He stares into my eyes as I squirt water into his mouth, and I give him an encouraging smile. The bell goes off again and he stands, rolling his neck. This time when they meet in the center of the cage, Cameron takes a punch to the stomach.
There is a collective “ooh!” from the crowd. Mikhail launches a blow to his face, which he blocks, but he takes another punch to his left side. I cringe as I watch him take another to his right side. Obviously feeling confident, Mikhail kicks Cameron’s feet from under him and he falls to the mat with a thud. Before he can capitalize on that move, Cameron rolls and jumps to his feet. That ‘proud as a peacock’ look is back on Mikhail’s face. He walks purposefully toward Cameron and begins to rain blows all over his body. Cameron keeps his hands up, protecting his face. The crowd expresses their displeasure with a chant of “boo!” around the arena. The bell goes off again. Mikhail preens to the crowd, certain he’s already won.
That’s exactly what they want him to think.
As I stand among his trainers, I resist the urge to stroke his cheek.
“Are you hurt?”
