A black clad figure stationed beside the warehouse’s loadin’ bay door lets me in with barely a glance at the – fake – ID I flash before his face. I’m guessin’ he’s seen my type before – lean, mean an’ obviously cruisin’ for a fight. Marie is another matter – he checks out her ID like he’s expectin’ to find somethin’ wrong with it, but then I catch his eyes rovin’ over the bare expanse of her midriff an’ I realise he’s stallin’ for time, figurin’ out how to chat her up. Plasterin’ a glare onto my face, I snatch the ID outta his hand, grab Marie’s an’ drag her inside. Guy’s lucky I didn’t introduce his face to my fist the way he was all but droolin’ over my girl. ‘Course, I’d drool too, given half the chance, but it really ain’t in keepin’ with the bad-ass image, although I really should let Chuck get a good look at my head. What the hell was I thinkin’ to let Marie come out with me dressed like that? Was I just askin’ for her to be drooled over?
Yeah, Logan, admit it – you were. You wanted a pretty girl on your arm tonight, so that you could strut around an’ show off. You wanted to flaunt your Alpha male status in front o’ all the other guys an’ maybe show Marie that she’s pretty flamin’ lucky to have such a damn fine mate.
Didn’t you?
Okay. So sue me.
Quite a crowd has already gathered inside the warehouse, despite the almost empty parkin’ lot. I’m guessin’ that a lot o’ folks left their cars some distance away an’ walked in. Less chance o’ attractin’ police attention that way, but not so good if you need to make a quick getaway. Me, I prefer to keep my wheels nice an’ close.
A bar has been set up against the far wall an’ I’m just makin’ a beeline for it when we are waylaid by a busty blonde wearin’ cut off jeans an’ a crop top that looks several sizes too small. She has a nice smile though, an’ her eyes latch on to mine as she waves her clipboard at us, cheerily.
“Hi there! I’m Sheryl and I’ll be your fight co-ordinator for this evening. Are you fighting or watching, honey?”
“Fightin’,” I growl back.
That gets her attention an’ she checks me out carefully, her gaze lingerin’ on my crotch a little longer than necessary. She pulls a pen from behind her ear. “Okay, so I’ll just get you signed in and then you’ll be all set to go. What name do you fight under, honey?”
“Wolverine.”
Sheryl writes that down quickly an’ then gives me her full attention. “Okay, so here are the rules; there aren’t any. Anything goes, but the use of weapons is strictly forbidden - fists, feet, teeth and any other body parts only. Entry fee is a hundred. Fight your bout and win – you stay in the cage. Lose and you’re out, it’s as simple as that. Last man standing wins the pot. Any questions?”
I shake my head. “I know what I’m doin’. I’ve fought before.”
“Oooh, a veteran.” Sheryl gives me an easy smile, totally ignorin’ Marie who looks about ready to belt her one. “I thought you had the look of a pro about you.” She sticks her pen back behind her ear. “I’ll come and get you before your first bout, but feel free to relax until then. Fight starts at eight sharp.”
I nod an’ dig into my back pocket for my wallet, quickly producin’ a handful o’ notes. “So how many guys are already signed up to fight?” I ask, nonchalantly, as I hand them over.
Sheryl takes the notes an’ tucks them down the front o’ her top. “Including yourself, ten so far. But we’re expecting a couple of guys in from Westchester and we’ve had advance notice of groups from Merryfield and Wagstaff, so there should be plenty of entertainment tonight.” She pauses an’ looks around her, then leans closer, conspiratorially. “Just between you and me, honey, most of the fighters look like pussies. Big guy like you shouldn’t have any trouble keeping them in line.” Her eyes quickly flick downwards, makin’ her intent clear. “Now I couldn’t help noticing that you have an impressive set of …… umm …… shoulders. Maybe you’d like a massage to help loosen you up before you fight?”
“He wouldn’t.” Marie steps forward an’ I catch a whiff o’ her scent. She smells …… well …… spiky, is the only way I can describe it.
Sheryl doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh, hi, sweetie! What’s your name?”
“Rogue.” With a nice growl thrown in for good measure. Atta girl.
“Wow, cool name! Are you his girl or his manager?”
“Both.”
Sheryl actually looks crestfallen. “Shit. Well, can’t blame a girl for trying. No hard feelings, huh, Rogue? Enjoy yourself tonight, honey. Give ‘em hell!”
“Thanks. I intend to.”
I make for the bar, but I am pulled up a couple o’ steps later by a shout from Sheryl. “Hey! Wolverine?”
I turn an’ she winks cheekily at me. “Nice ass you got there, honey.” A quick wave of her clipboard an’ she is gone, meltin’ into the crowd to accost another new arrival.
Marie leans sideways to look behind me. “What is it with you an’ your ass today, sugah?”
“Damned if I know.” I continue my journey to the bar, lettin’ Marie trot behind me to check out the goodies. I test her scent as we move through the crowd – she’s alert an’ excited, but there’s no jealousy present, or malice towards Sheryl. She’s obviously decided the blonde poses no threat.
The barkeep raises an eyebrow as we approach an’ I order two beers, lettin’ my much coveted ass claim a stool. Marie hops up onto the one beside me an’ lets her eyes rove around the room. They are drawn inevitably to the imposin’ metal cage set in the center o’ the floor. She gets a strange look on her face an’ I know she is remembering the day we met.
The barkeep bangs two beers down on the counter between us an’ waggles his fingers at me for cash.
“Keep ‘em comin’.” I growl, an’ he nods an’ walks off, presumably to set up a tab.
Marie sips delicately at her bottle, but I drain half the contents o’ mine in one go, belch manfully an’ then start eyeing up the competition. I’ve never been beaten in a cage fight, but it don’t hurt to know what you’re up against.
Marie notices my intense gaze an’ elbows me in the ribs to get my attention. “Whatchya doin’?”
“Checkin’ out the fighters.” I nod towards a Hispanic built like a brick outhouse a few feet away. “Guy’s a pro, but he ain’t gonna go the distance, even if I wasn’t here.”
Marie gives the guy a discreet glance. “How can you tell?”
“He’s big, but it’s all under-developed muscle,” I explain, enjoyin’ my chance to show off a little. “Got no strength behind a punch. Probably relies on his size an’ weight to bring an opponent down.”
Marie nods, wisely.
“Now, that guy ……” I nod towards a mousey haired teenager showin’ off his muscles – an’ I use the term loosely here – to a faded redhead. “ …… he’s here to impress a girl. Won’t last three minutes.”
Marie chuckles an’ raises her eyebrows. “You can tell all that just by lookin’ at a guy?”
“Sure.” I take a slug o’ my beer. “I’m a predator, Marie. Wouldn’t live long if I didn’t know how ta bring down my prey.”
Sheryl suddenly appears at my side, with a receipt for the hundred. “Here you go, honey. Got you pencilled in to fight third. Couldn’t wait to see those shoulders of yours in action!”
She swirls off into the crowd before I can reply, leavin’ Marie glarin’ after her retreatin’ back.
“She’s harmless, Marie,” I tell her, proppin’ my elbow on the bar.
“I know.” Marie huffs a breath an’ narrows her eyes at me. “But she’s flirting with you, Logan.”
“So? Doesn’t mean I gotta flirt back.” I reach out to caress those platinum locks. “Got my girl right here.”
Marie grins an’ leans in for the kiss I graciously offer. She tastes o’ cherry lip gloss an’ beer an’ I growl appreciatively into her mouth, before breakin’ the clinch an’ leanin’ back with both elbows on the bar. Unconsciously, I realise I’m displayin’ myself to all the other males in the room – the message I’m sendin’ reads ‘I’m big, I’m bad an’ I ain’t afraid o’ you, Bub. You’re goin’ down.”
A heavily muscled bald guy steps into the cage with a microphone, an’ suddenly the tension in the room goes up several notches. There’s a flurry o’ posturin’, flexin’ o’ muscles an’ jacket strippin’ as the fighters get ready. Marie tosses me a glance, but I shrug back. I ain’t strippin’ off until I’m ready to go into the cage.
The referee clears his throat loudly, attractin’ everyone’s attention. “Ladieeees and gentlemen! Let’s get this show on the road!” Cheers an’ whoops of excitement follow this announcement an’ I snort into my beer. “Give a warm welcome to your reigning King of the Cage – Blackheart!”
The Hispanic steps into the cage to the accompaniment o’ loud applause an’ cheerin’. The referee gives him a moment or two to show off, which he takes full advantage of – flexin’ an’ preenin’ for the ladies. Pansy-ass.
“And our first challenger of the evening – Nitro!”
A tall, lean fella steps into the cage, acceptin’ the applause he gets with a gracious wave of his hand. Reminds me o’ Scooter – same sorta build – but he ain’t gonna last long against Blackheart. No stayin’ power.
The referee rings a bell an’ the first fight o’ the evenin’ is on. Nitro goes into immediate action, bouncin’ around the larger guy like he’s bein’ pulled up an’ down on a string from above. Blackheart swings, but the little guy just flips outta his way an’ starts dancin’ again, landin’ a couple o’ punches of his own, but not enough to cause the Hispanic any problems. The little guy is quick, I’ll give him that, but he ain’t gonna be able to keep up the pace for long.
Sure enough, twenty minutes later, visibly tirin’ an’ sweatin’ like a pig, he walks right into a roundhouse punch an’ goes down like a ton o’ bricks.
Round one an’ Blackheart still rules the cage.
Nitro is carried out by two of his mates, his head lollin’ from side to side, drunkenly.
The next challenger is the guy out to impress his girlfriend, with the unlikely name o’ Mankiller. He looks terrified, an’ when Blackheart rushes him with a fist held high he backpeddles across the cage with a yell, stoppin’ only when the bars get in the way. Willin’ hands around the outside o’ the cage happily push him back to face the music.
It’s no contest, an’ he’s out for the count in one minute twenty seconds.
His girlfriend is sobbin’ hysterically as he’s helped from the cage by the referee.
Sheryl makes a return appearance. “There’s a ten minute break every couple of fights, honey. You’re up next. Just enough time to get yourself ready.”
I nod an’ remove my jacket, drapin’ it across the bar. Marie pulls it to her an’ puts it across her knee, sendin’ a silent message to all the guys standin’ nearby – ‘I’m his, don’t mess with me.’ When I strip off my shirt an’ wifebeater, I raise a couple o’ appreciative whistles from some nearby ladies, an’ Sheryl nods an’ flashes me a wink. “Nice!”
I leave my boots on my stool an’ pad barefoot across the cold concrete floor to stand before the cage. As I look up at the metal bars, a wave o’ nostalgia washes over me an’ I close my eyes against a sudden rush o’ memories.
…… Keep this up, Stu, an’ you’ll lose more’n yer money……
…… Look out! ……
…… Get outta my bar, freak ……
Takin’ a calmin’ breath, I open my eyes to see the referee beckonin’ me into the cage. “Ladieees and gentlemen – I give you – the Wolverine!”
He draws the last syllable o’ my name out into a lazy drawl, as the crowd greets my entrance to the cage with all the enthusiasm destined for a challenger who they think is gonna exit again pretty damn quick. I hope to disappoint ‘em.
Blackheart is leanin’ against the bars, bottle o’ beer in hand, casually waitin’ out his ten minute break. He looks relaxed, but he’s checkin’ me out, no doubt assessin’ my strengths an’ weaknesses the way I did with him. I pop my neck an’ roll my shoulders, unconcerned. There’s no way he can take me, but he don’t know that yet.
An’ before I do take him down, I intend to have a little fun first.
The ten minutes are up an’ the referee rings the bell. Blackheart comes away from the bars like an express train, evidently hopin’ to take me low an’ hard. He’s obviously figured me for a threat an’ needs to take me out quick.
Trouble is, I ain’t about to oblige him. Trouble for him, that is.
I evade his charge easily with a swift sidestep, bringin’ my fist around into the small of his back as he goes past. The impact makes him stumble, an’ he hits the floor hard, but he recovers quickly, jerks forward an’ rams his fist into my solar plexus as I stalk towards him. I whuff air an’ double over, givin’ him time to get to his feet. His clenched fists on the back o’ my neck make my head spin an’ it is my turn to hit the floor.
With the sound o’ the crowd’s jeerin’ ringin’ in my ears, I roll over just in time to see the kick he’s aimin’ at my ribs. I’m tempted to let it land – he’ll break his foot, but he’ll also expose the presence o’ my adamantium skeleton, an’ then it’s all she wrote. So I roll outta his reach, makin’ him stagger when his kick doesn’t land an’, while he’s unbalanced, I regain my footin’ an’ aim a pile-driver at his jaw. To his credit, he manages to duck just in time an’ my fist simply parts his hair creatively. Havin’ completed our first sortie, we part an’ size each other up.
Okay, so I’ve convinced him I’m not gonna go down with a whimper, an’ now he knows he’s gonna have to work for the win. I can almost see the cogs whirrin’ in his head as he figures out the fastest way to take me down.
We circle each other, weavin’ an’ feintin’ as the mood takes us. I allow a couple o’ his blows to land an’ I know my initial assessment was correct – no strength. An’ havin’ proved my own theory, I decide to end the fight.
I let him land a punch, takin’ it squarely on the jaw an’ staggerin’ slightly to let him think I’m dazed. Sensin’ victory, he comes in for the kill, an’ delivers a crackin’ punch to the side o’ my head. I drop to my knees, shakin’ my head, feignin’ weakness an’ he prepares a cripplin’ uppercut that would no doubt lay me out cold if I were an ordinary guy.
But I ain’t no ordinary guy. The look on his face is priceless as I ‘recover’ from his onslaught, slip through his none-existant defence an’ drop him to the cold concrete floor with a single punch.
Touchdown! The crowd goes wild!
An’ just like that, I am the new King o’ the Cage.
The referee acknowledges the crowd’s new champion by liftin’ my arm in a victory salute an’ I allow a feral grin to cross my face, reapin’ the rewards o’ my labours.
Marie is up on her feet, leapin’ up an’ down with my jacket an’ shirts in her arms, screamin’ my name. Even without my enhanced hearin’, I’d be able to hear her all the way over here. Her eyes are filled with such love an’ pride at my win that I wanna go over there an’ show my mate how pleased I am that she’s rootin’ for me, but Blackheart is bein’ dragged outta the cage by two burly bouncers an’ my first challenger is already waitin’.
The boringly named ‘Dan’ throws a lot o’ fancy punches, but doesn’t actually achieve anything. I show him no mercy, attackin’ relentlessly, an’ he screams ‘uncle’ when I pin him on the bars.
Even before the ten minute break is announced, I am outta the cage an’ stridin’ towards the bar. Marie puts my stuff across the stool an’ all but bounces into my arms, wrappin’ her long legs around my waist an’ smotherin’ my face an’ lips with hot little kisses. Remember what I said about cage fightin’ makin’ my girl horny? Looks like I’m on a promise tonight.
I’m beginnin’ to get some funny looks from the other guys at the bar, so I unwrap her legs an’ let her slide slowly back down to the floor. Her face is flushed as she looks up at me.
“That was great, Logan! You’re in!”
“Did ya ever doubt it?” I counter, flashin’ the barkeep a quick look. I ain’t got long an’ I need beer.
“’Course not!” Marie wraps her arms around me an’ rests her head on my chest. I can feel her fingers playin’ in the small o’ my back an’ somethin’ is definitely gettin’ interested. As the barkeep hands me a bottle, I push her away from me gently, minimisin’ the body contact. It really wouldn’t be practical, or safe, to go back in the cage with a hard-on.
Sheryl is preparin’ another fighter just a few feet down the bar an’ she flashes me a cheery thumbs up. As I take a long, calmin’ slug o’ my beer, I wonder what her obvious interest in me is doin’ for the confidence o’ the other fighters.
My ten minute break seems to last all o’ five an’ in short order I am being called back to the cage. Marie gives me a good luck peck on the cheek before settlin’ back onto her stool with my stuff, an’ I enter the gladiatorial arena an’ await my next opponent.
Turns out ‘Jean-Claude’ fancies himself as a bit of a kickboxer an’ actually gives me a run for my money, landin’ several solid kicks an’ makin’ my head spin with a roundhouse punch that I didn’t see comin’ ‘cause I was too busy watchin’ his damn feet. It won’t happen again. I bide my time, lettin’ him dance around me an’ launch a few kicks which I either deflect or allow to land in order to analyse his style. I finally clock the way his weight shifts subtly just as he’s about to move, an’ the next time he lets loose with a kick to my head I catch his leg mid-spin, flip him over in the air an’ punch the back of his head as he goes down. He hits the floor hard an’ doesn’t move.
The crowd are cheerin’ an’ whoopin’, obviously sensin’ a winner, an’ I flash Marie a look o’ triumph. She salutes me with her beer bottle an’ I turn to face my next opponent.
‘Bonebreaker’ is somethin’ else entirely. He’s massively built an’ it’s all muscle, an’ it doesn’t take a genius to figure out he knows how to use it. He cracks his knuckles as we eye each other up, an’ his face breaks into a knowin’ smile.
The bell rings an’ we begin to stalk each other in an unwary circle. Strange as it may sound, he’s got the advantage here – he’s seen me fight, an’ he’s had time to analyse my style. I’m going into this blind. He’s obviously not willin’ to throw the first punch. So I gotta do somethin’ unexpected.
I drop into a roll, comin’ out with my leg extended to sweep the others’ out from under him. My move has taken him by surprise, but he recovers in time to evade my kick, an’ throws a punch to my exposed head. I back-flip an’ the blow goes wild, leavin’ Bonebreaker wide open. Before he can recover, I slip through his defences an’ deliver a choppin’ blow to his kidneys. Bonebreaker yells an’ staggers back an’ I back off again, as the stalkin’ begins anew.
“You’re good.” I am startled when Bonebreaker addresses me directly. The cage ain’t exactly the place for casual conversation. I grunt a non-committal reply, an’ Bonebreaker tilts his head, curiously. “You think you’ve got me beat, don’t you, Wolverine? But I’ve been watchin’ you an’ I know your weaknesses.”
My weaknesses? I wasn’t aware I had any.
“I know you’re sweet on that pretty little brunette out there. The one with the platinum streaks?” He nods outta the cage an’ just for a second my eyes are drawn to Marie, still yellin’ my name enthusiastically, unaware that she’s now the center o’ attention. A crazed growl vibrates deep in my throat at the implied threat to her safety.
“Y’see, Wolverine, I’m here tonight with some good friends o’ mine. An’ if I don’t win this bout, those friends are gonna wait until your next fight an’ take her outside for some …… alternate …… entertainment.”
The growl goes up a notch an’ I bare my teeth in a feral snarl. It’s an empty threat, I’m sure of it, but I can’t stop the hackles risin’ on the back o’ my neck.
“An’ just in case you think I’m jokin’, my friends have already spiked your girl’s beer while she wasn’t lookin’. It won’t knock her out, but it’ll make her more …… compliant and willin’ for a good fuck.”
“Rrrrraaaauugh!” The saner portion o’ my brain is tellin’ me his words are a ruse to get me to throw the fight, but the animal within me is strugglin’ to the fore, takin’ the threat to its mate’s safety seriously. Bonebreaker’s smile is humourless as we slowly circle each other.
“You don’t believe me? Take a look, Wolverine.”
My eyes slide towards Marie once again, hopin’ to find her unharmed an’ well. An’ the guy standin’ beside her raises his beer bottle to me in salute.
Somethin’ inside me snaps an’ I hurl myself at Bonebreaker, howlin’ like a madman. The crowd goes crazy as we clash in the center o’ the cage, fists flyin’, an’ I feel a sharp pain across my face as somethin’ slices my cheek open.
A ring! He’s cut me with a flamin’ ring!
I spin away from Bonebreaker, questin’ fingers feelin’ my cheek an’ comin’ away red with blood. For a second, I’m tempted to wipe it away, but I haven’t lived this long by being careless an’ I leave it. The blood will cover all traces o’ the skin healin’ beneath.
I lick the blood away from my fingers, sensin’ a red haze flickerin’ on the edges o’ my vision. I’m goin’ feral, but I can’t – not here – not now. My mate is in danger …… must protect ……
Bonebreaker is beckonin’ me in an’ I let go, barrellin’ towards him in a fightin’ crouch. We seem to be headin’ for contact but, at the last second, I duck left an’ his fist whistles harmlessly through my hair. My own pile-driver connects solidly with his jaw, makin’ him grunt in pain an’ shock. The force of it sends him into a spectacular mid-air somersault an’ I am on him before he can even hit the floor, pummellin’ his face relentlessly into the concrete.
It takes the referee an’ two bouncers to pull me off an’, by that time, the crowd are howlin’ for more, whipped into a frenzy by the sight o’ first blood. As I come to my senses, I shrug them off, shovin’ my way outta the cage an’ through the cheerin’ crowd towards the bar, my one thought to reach Marie an’ warn her o’ the danger. She’ll be okay while I’m with her, but I gotta tell her to keep her power on while I’m in the cage. If anyone tries anythin’ funny with her, they’ll go out like a light.
As the crowd thins an’ I near the bar, I am just in time to see the guy standin’ next to her put his arm around her shoulder ……