“Get yer hands off her, bub!”
Marie lets out a startled squeak as I grab the guy’s shoulder an’ swing him away from her, pinnin’ him against the bar with my left hand around his throat. My right fist is pulled back, ready to release the first crushin’ blow. There is a flurry o’ movement as the guys nearest us suddenly develop a desire to do their drinkin someplace safer an’ I lean in close, allowin’ my lips to pull back, knowin’ the sight o’ my canines can instil all sorts o’ fear in my prey. “Ya got ten seconds ta save yer life, pal. Start talkin’. Who’re ya with?”
“Logan, the hell …….?” Marie pushes in close, her eyes suddenly afraid, not for herself, but for what I might do. “Let go of him, Logan, he hasn’t done anything. We were just talking.”
I turn slightly an’ she recoils from the shadow of the beast in my eyes. “Jus’ talkin’, Marie? Talkin’? This guy was gonna rape ya, Marie. Him an’ his friends were gonna take ya outside an’ fuck ya senseless, do ya understand me?”
“But ……..”
She is genuinely confused, but I haven’t got time to convince her o’ this guy’s intentions. His pals are lurkin’ in this warehouse somewhere, waitin’ to get their hands on my girl an’ I ain’t gonna rest until I’ve found every last one of ‘em an’ made ‘em pay.
I tighten my grip on the guy’s throat, makin’ him choke an’ squirm against the bar. I can feel the claws in my fist nudgin’ against the skin between my knuckles, beggin’ to be let out to play. Anger at what these guys wanted to do to Marie is barely keepin’ the beast in check, but I’m so close to going feral …….. so close to losin’ it ……..
My voice is rough as I push my face close to the guy chokin’ in my grasp. “Yer time’s runnin’ out, bub. Talk! Now!”
“Logan ……..” Marie is pullin’ at my arm, tryin’ to get me to let go. I shove her away from me, barely registerin’ now that this is the one I’m seekin’ to protect. I’m too far gone …….. Oh Christ, I’m losin’ it ……..
An’ then Marie’s fist slams into the side o’ my head an’ I reel back, not in pain, but in shock that my mate has raised her hands to me. I release the guy an’ drop into a crouch, snarlin’ in anger as, barely noticed in the red haze o’ my anger, he clutches his neck with shaky hands an’ heaves dry, hackin’ coughs, suckin’ in air.
“Back off, Logan! Ah mean it!” Marie thrusts a finger in my face to hold me in place an’ turns to the guy. “Hey, are you okay?”
The sight o’ her speakin’ to the one who would not have thought twice about hurtin’ her makes my blood boil. I lunge forward with a snarl on my lips only to encounter Marie’s hand on my chest. I could easily overpower her an’ seize my prey, but I won’t do that. She’s my mate. I won’t hurt her.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she demands, still holdin’ me back with that hand on my chest. Her scent, so close to my nose, is comfortin’ an’ I allow it to wash over me, groundin’ me back to reality.
“He’s gonna hurt ya, Marie,” I growl, warningly.
“Hurt me? He’s not gonna hurt me, sugah. This is Mike. He’s a mechanic at the shop where we took your bike.”
“A …….. a mechanic?” Her words penetrate my revenge-fogged brain and I look at her in confusion. “But ……..”
“He’s part of the group from Westchester – his brother’s gonna be fightin’ tonight.” Marie is still holdin’ me back, but I’m startin’ to calm now as her words sink in. “When he recognised me, he came over to let me know your bike will be ready to pick up the day after tomorrow. For goodness sake, he’s not gonna hurt me, Logan.”
I shake my head as the fog an’ the red haze slowly dissipate. “But the guy in the cage said ……..”
I make a grab for Marie’s bottle as I remember what he said about spikin’ her beer. A sniff reveals the presence of no foreign substances – a taste confirms it. “What the hell’s goin’ on?” I growl.
“Ah could ask you the same question, sugah.” Marie has rocked back on one foot, arms folded defiantly. “One minute you’re happily knockin’ ten bells outta the guy in the cage, the next you’re doing the same out here. Gotta get a grip on reality, sugah.”
“The guy in the cage,” I snarl, pointin’ to the large metal structure, “he wanted me to throw the fight, Marie. Said if I didn’t, his friends were gonna take ya outside an’ basically fuck ya ta death.”
“And you thought that I …….. that I was ……..” Mike stares at me in wide-eyed horror, his face visibly paling. “Oh shit ……..”
“It was an empty threat, Logan, nothing more.” Marie rubs my arm to soothe me, her voice low an’ steady. My chest is heavin’ from my exertions an’ I am barely containin’ the anger that makes me wanna lash out an’ kill somethin’. I don’t care who or what, jus’ ……. somethin’. “Logan, are you listening to me? The guy in the cage probably saw Mike come over to talk to me an’ thought he’d raise some mischief. It happens all the time.”
“Not to me, it don’t.” Marie’s theory is plausible, but somethin’ ain’t right – somethin’ I can’t quite put my finger on.
“Well, the guy definitely paid for his mistake.” Mike is startin’ to relax, but I notice he’s placed a stool between us both. “Did you see his face when they dragged him outta the cage?”
“Can’t say as I did, but it serves the bugger right.” I slip an arm around Marie’s waist, pullin’ her close an’ buryin’ my nose in her hair, lettin’ her scent calm me. “He won’t be tryin’ that trick again in a long time.”
Sheryl suddenly appears at my side, her face showin’ signs o’ concern. “What the heck are you doing out here, honey? You’re being called. You have to go back in the cage.”
As if her words were the catalyst, I realise I can hear the crowds callin’ for me, stampin’ their feet on the floor an’ cheerin’. Some of ‘em, probably those that have taken bets on me winnin’, are wavin’ slips o’ paper an’ eyeing me pleadingly. The referee is standin’ at the cage door, beckonin’ me back inside, where my next challenger is already waitin’.
I shake my head against Marie’s sweet smellin’ hair. “I ain’t goin’ in,” I announce, decisively. “I’m throwin’ the fight.”
Marie shoves me back so suddenly that I stumble an’ almost fall over Mike’s stool. By the time I regain my balance, she is glarin’ at me with a face like thunder, her hands on her hips.
“You just get back into that cage, mister, an’ ah won’t take it personally that ya just insulted m’ah honour.” She flings out an arm in the direction o’ the cage, index finger sharply pointed. “Git! Now!”
Tryin’ to ignore the sound o’ Sheryl’s muffled laughter, I raise my hands, pleadingly. “Marie, I ain’t leavin’ ya alone. What if it wasn’t a ruse ……..?”
If at all possible, my girl’s face turns even darker. “What, ya think ah can’t take care o’ m’ah self now? Ya think ah’m not without m’ah defences?” She’s referrin’ to her skin, but bein’ carefull not to say anythin’ in front o’ Mike an’ Sheryl. “You’re not gonna throw the fight just because some guy threatened to rape me, Logan, an’ that’s final! Get back in the cage before ah throw ya over m’ah shoulder an’ carry ya there m’ah self!”
“I’d like ta see ya try,” I snap back, unable to stop the low growl from rumbling around my chest. I’m irked that she’s arguin’ with me, but I’m actually startin’ to smile at the image her words provoke an’ I lean forward, lettin’ my lips brush her ear, suggestively.
“Y’know, I love it when yer angry,” I whisper, breathily, against the delicate flesh, makin’ her shiver despite her best efforts to push me away. “Yer makin’ me horny, girl. I can’t wait to get between yer legs tonight.”
“Go!” Marie finally plants both hands flat against my chest and succeeds in creatin’ some space between us. “Get in that cage, mister, or the only thing you’ll be gettin’ between tonight is your own empty sheets!”
“You’ve got exactly three minutes to return to the cage, honey,” adds Sheryl, checkin’ her watch. “Otherwise I’ll have to declare you a non-combatant. Your place will be taken by the next fighter.”
I’m left with no other choice. Return to the cage or throw the fight an’ suffer Marie’s anger. My girl helps make the choice for me.
“Go, Logan. Thanks to your warning, ah’ll be on the alert from now on. Ah’ll be safe, ah promise you.” Her voice is soft now, holdin’ no trace of her former ire, an’ she reaches out to take my hand, placin’ it against her cheek in affirmation of her love for me. “Go,” she whispers, softly. “Fight for me, Logan.”
“Two minutes,” interjects Sheryl, sharply.
Marie presses a kiss to my palm an’ lets me go.
An’ without a backward glance, I return to the cage ………
I am fightin’ well. Although, to be honest, there was never any real danger o’ me bein’ taken out by any o’ my challengers. Most of ‘em don’t even raise a sweat an’ are easily dispatched. I am the King o’ the Cage an’ havin’ the time o’ my life.
Since returnin’ to the fight, I have taken on a total o’ nine challengers – the tenth is just about to go down. I caught him on the side o’ the head with a haymaker a couple o’ seconds ago an’ he don’t look too good. Only his own grim determination is keepin’ him on his feet. I’m bettin’ if I breathe on him he’ll hit the deck. Tempted to try.
Mike’s brother came into the cage two challengers ago. He was good, I’ll give him that, but I ain’t givin’ out charity here an’ he went down to a sharp uppercut. Truth is, I pulled my punch a little, in deference to his brother. Mike has stood by Marie since my case o’ mistaken identity a while back. He don’t need to – now that Marie is aware o’ any possible danger, her skin will take down anybody foolish enough to mess with her – but he don’t know that, an’ I appreciate the sentiment. Good friends are hard to find these days.
My current challenger – I forget his name now, it was somethin’ stupid anyway an’ they’re all startin’ to blur into one – staggers slightly an’ I use the opportunity to launch a fist at his gut. It’s all she wrote for the guy an’ he goes down, wheezin’ an’ hackin’ like an asthmatic. It’s obvious he can’t – or won’t – continue, an’ the referee declares me the winner. Again.
I use my ten minutes to take a leak in the little boy’s room – I’m sweatin’ like a pig, but I’m also knockin’ back the beer like it’s going outta fashion an’ it’s gotta go somewhere. When I return to Marie, she pushes a bottle into my hand before I’ve even sat down an’ I knock back half of it in one go.
Sheryl consults her clipboard. “Next up is a guy called Golddigga, honey.” As I’ve worked my way through the challengers she’s had less an’ less to do and now, with only two fighters left to be called, she’s taken to spendin’ her time with Marie an’ Mike. If not for Marie, I would no doubt have left with her tonight an’ ended up in her bed – her attraction to me is obvious an’ she’s a good lookin’ woman. But there’s only one female I’ll be leavin’ with tonight an’ that’s my mate. My womanisin’ days are over.
“Is he any good?” Mike leans over to look at the information she has written under his name.
“He’s a veteran, if that’s what you mean,” responds Sheryl, thoughtfully. “I’ve seen him fight before. He’s got a mean right hook, so watch yourself, honey.”
I raise an eyebrow at her an’ she flaps a hand at me. “I know, I know. Geez! Y’know, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were one of those mutants, honey. I’ve never seen anyone fight like you before an’ there’s hardly a mark on you.”
Both myself an’ Marie freeze at her words, but Sheryl an’ Mike give no sign o’ noticin’, havin’ returned to their study o’ Golddigga. Marie an’ me toss each other a silent glance.
The referee demands my return to the cage an’ I drain the rest o’ my beer, before returnin’ to the fight. The concrete floor is cool beneath my bare feet as I wait for my next challenger to enter.
Golddigga looks every inch the veteran Sheryl made him out to be. There’s no posturin’ or posin’ for the crowd as he takes his place in front o’ me. Just cool appraisal in his eyes as he checks me out.
When the bell rings, he’s on me like a ferret on a rabbit, an’ I am actually taken by surprise as his thick arm wraps around my neck an’ begins to tighten. With one arm trapped behind my back, I flail helplessly with the other as his chokehold cuts off my air an’ my vision goes blurry. Wrappin’ my fingers around his wrist, I struggle to loosen the grip. There’s a roarin’ in my ears that has nothin’ to do with the crowd, an’ the world holds its breath as they realise their champion is goin’ down ……..
No, he aint. I ain’t given up yet. Slammin’ my head back into Golddigga’s face, I hear a satisfyin’ crack as his nose breaks an’ I twist outta his grasp, quickly puttin’ space between us. Blood is pourin’ from his nose an’ down his chest an’ he pulls his lips back an’ snarls at me. Risin’ to the challenge, I snarl back.
He comes at me with fists flyin’. I dodge the first punch, the second, slip under the third to land a rabbit punch to the gut, only to reel back as his fist connects sharply with the side o’ my head. Christ, he’s strong! Shakin’ my head to clear it, I circle him slowly, watchin’ for an openin’. He circles with me, clenchin’ an’ unclenchin’ his fists, as though aching to get them around my neck.
There’s no subtlety to his attack when it comes – he’s like a rogue elephant in full charge. Kinda reminds me o’ me. I stand my ground, judgin’ the moment, intendin’ to sidestep at the last second an’ take him from behind. But as I swing to the side, my foot lands on a patch o’ blood an’ I slip, thowin’ out a hand to steady myself. Takin’ full advantage o’ my faux pas, Golddigga grabs my arm, swings me around an’ rams me full tilt into the cage bars.
I howl in agony as my shoulder dislocates.
Okay, today’s lesson, kiddies, is Adamantium 101, an’ ya better pay attention ‘cause I’m in a lotta pain here an’ I’m only gonna say this once. Jus’ ‘cause I have an adamantium skeleton, it don’t mean I’m impervious to pain, ‘cause that’s a crock o’ shit. The joints can still rotate, otherwise I’d not be able to move. An’ that means they can be dislocated.
An’ that hurts.
A lot.
I drop to my knees, grippin’ my injured shoulder as Golddigga looms above me. Too late, I see the fist comin’ for the side o’ my head an’ it connects hard, sendin’ me sprawlin’ across the floor. The follow up kick to my ribs lays me out flat an’ when he ducks down to dig the heel of his hand into my shoulder blade I almost pass out from the pain in my arm.
He has me writhin’ on the floor for a few seconds an’ then backs away instead o’ finishin’ me off, no doubt to draw out the agony. He dances around, showin’ off for the crowd, unintentionally givin’ me time to regain my breath. His mistake. When he moves in on me again, I know this is my last chance to take him down before he punches my card. It’s all or nothin’ now.
The kick he aims at my shoulder would have taken me out, no question. But I have no intention o’ lettin’ it land. At the last second, I twist an’ grab his leg with my good hand, flippin’ him around an’ bringin’ him crashin’ to the floor beside me. Before he can recover, I wrap my legs around his throat an’ begin to apply pressure, tearin’ a cry o’ agony from my own throat as I accidentally jostle my shoulder in the process. With his head locked between my thighs, he begins to choke as his airway is constricted, scrabblin’ futilely at my jeans in an effort to pull me away. But this is a killin’ hold an’ there’s no way out of it.
Leastways, not one that I’ve ever discovered anyway.
When his body goes limp, I open my legs an’ let him roll free, topplin’ to the ground beside his unconscious form with a ragged groan.
Just for a moment, everythin’ goes black ……..
“Logan? Sugah, can ya hear me ……..?” I open my eyes to a blur o’ bright light an’ an indistinct face hoverin’ above me. Scent tells me it’s Marie. “Oh god, Logan, are ya okay?”
“Hurt ……..” It’s testament to how much pain I’m really feelin’ for me to admit it. I struggle to rise an’ she takes my good arm to help. Mike moves in from somewhere behind me an’ together they get me to my feet. It’s then that I notice Sheryl arguin’ with the referee. The crowd have gone quiet, waitin’ to see what’s gonna happen. It’s obvious I won, but my injury complicates things.
Sheryl an’ the referee argue back an’ forth for a couple o’ seconds an’ then she comes hurryin’ over. “You’ve got thirty minutes, honey,” she declares, somewhat breathlessly. “Fool ref was all for declaring you a non-combatant on account of you not being able to continue, but the rules quite clearly state that a fighter has thirty minutes injury time should an accident occur. If you’re not fit to fight after that time elapses, then the next fighter takes over the cage. As there’s only one challenger left, he will win the title.”
“But he hasn’t fought at all,” Marie objects. “That isn’t fair!”
Sheryl shrugs. “Those are the rules, honey. I’ve been organising these illegal bouts for years – I should know.”
There’s clearly more to our fight co-ordinator than meets the eye.
“Come on, sugah, let’s get you fixed up.” Marie starts to lead me from the cage.
“Take me outside,” I manage to force out around the pain.
“Sugah?”
“Outside, Marie. To the jeep.”
I try to keep my weight off her as we weave through the crowd towards the door, but the pain is all-consumin’ an’ I’m startin’ to feel dizzy. Sheryl catches up with us as the guy at the door opens up to let us out, after tellin’ Mike to stay put an’ not let the ref declare me null an’ void while I’m away.
The cool night air revives me somewhat as we move across the parkin’ lot an’ I’m actually feelin’ more in control o’ my faculties by the time we reach the jeep. My left arm is hangin’ uselessly at my side though, an’ my shoulder is skewed at an odd angle. Gentle probin’ with my fingers confirms the dislocation.
“What are you gonna do, honey?” Sheryl watches me with concern in her eyes. Marie has gone slightly pale. I think she knows what’s gonna happen, but can’t quite bring herself to believe it.
“Gonna pop it back in,” I growl back. I’d prefer to do this without Sheryl’s involvement, but she’s here an’ I can’t wait for her to go. Gotta do it now, before I run outta time to heal up afterwards.
“Pop it back in …….?” Sheryl’s eyes open wide an’ she takes a step back. “You’re crazy!”
“Yeah,” I retort. “But not crazy enough.”
“What do you want me to do, sugah?” Marie swallows hard an’ steps nearer, obviously wishin’ I didn’t have to do this. So do I, darlin’. So do I.
“Hold me steady on my good side,” I tell her. “Don’t let me pass out.”
“Okay ……..”
She moistens her lips an’ moves nervously into place. To her credit, Sheryl steps up beside her, although her face is pale an’ she looks ready to hurl at any moment. I give both of ‘em a steady glance, then turn an’ slam my shoulder into the jeep’s roll bar.
“Rrrruuuaaagh!!”
The howl that is torn from my throat resembles that of a tortured animal an’ seems to reverberate around the parkin’ lot. As my knees begin to buckle, I feel Marie an’ Sheryl step into my good side an’ together they turn me around an’ ease me down to the ground, where I lean my head back against the side o’ the jeep.
“Jesus Christ!” I spit out, just for a second lettin’ my anger get the better o’ me. “That fuckin’ hurt!”
“Is it back in?” Marie is lookin’ a little green around the gills, but bearing up well, all things considered.
I roll my shoulder experimentally, hearin’ a strange gulpin’ noise from Sheryl. “Yep. Right as rain.”
“You’re as mad as a box of frogs, did you know that?” Sheryl pokes an accusin’ finger in my chest, earnin’ herself a growl. “I’ve never …….. and you …….. I ……..” She gives up an’ regards me keenly, eyes narrowed. “You’re not human, are you?”
I study her face for a second or two, while Marie looks on, her mouth formed into a perfect little ‘O’ of surprise. I finally figure I owe Sheryl the truth, whether it gets us kicked out o’ the tournament or not.
“I’m a mutant,” I tell her, honestly. “A feral.”
“A feral.” She repeats the unfamiliar phrase back to me, noticeably avoidin’ the ‘M’ word. “And what the hell’s a feral?”
“I have enhanced senses an’ athletic ability. I also have a healin’ factor. Means I can recover from just about any injury.”
“Is that so?”
She rocks back onto her haunches an’ folds her arms, her brow creasin’ as she looks me up an’ down. Beside me, I hear Marie draw in a breath an’ hold it, waitin’ for the bombshell to drop. I mentally begin to add up the amount o’ time I’ll need to get inside the warehouse an’ grab my car keys before Sheryl calls security on us. If everything’s gonna go belly up, we’ll need to make a getaway, pretty damn quick.
“You heal, huh?” She snorts an’ her face breaks into a huge smile. “In that case, you’d better get back into the cage an’ take on your final challenger, honey. It wouldn’t be right to deprive the punters of their chance to crown their rightful Cage King, now, would it?”
Marie squeals an’ lunges over to hug her.
“I’m just a sucker for a guy with a nice ass.” Sheryl grins ruefully as she stands up an’ dusts off her shorts. “Now, much as I’d like to sit out here an’ chat with you nice people, there’s at least fifteen hundred dollars in the fight pot waiting to be won, an’ I’m guessing it’s got the name ‘Wolverine’ written all over it. Do you agree?”
“Damn right.” I get to my feet an’ Marie high fives me excitedly.
“How long have I got?” I ask, glancin’ at Sheryl
She checks her watch. “Ten minutes.”
“Good,” I growl back. “Just enough time fer a beer …….”