Hunter's fight was on a Friday night. The buildup to it in the media was insane. It seemed nothing existed in the world other than his comeback fight after two years of hiatus. Everywhere I turned, Hunter's face was on. Social media, news, TV shows, billboards.
Hunter had to be in the venue early, so he went ahead of me. I took the afternoon off, and Jason, Scott and I drove to the arena, which was located a two hour drive from the city limits.
The parking lot was bursting with cars. Fortunately, Hunter had given us VVIP tickets, which included a parking spot in the underground parking lot.
Jason, Scott and I went inside. It was my first time in an arena. Though I watched the fights at home, the experience in the arena was entirely different. The place buzzed with a heady energy. Jason and Scott got the celebrity treatment from staff and spectators alike. I slunk behind them. People were filming them. I didn't want my face to be plastered all over the place.
The fights hadn't even started yet, but the noise of the spectators was deafening, swallowing the thuds of the music. We made our way to our section, and I sat between Scott and Jason. My knee started bouncing as soon as we sat down. I hadn't been overly nervous this past week, but now that I could see the cage and the blood-hungry crowd, my insides were all twisted up in knots. The fence around the octagon looked ominous.
"Relax, your asshole is going to kick his butt," Jason said, patting my knee.
"Right." I let out a shaky breath and looked around.
Melissa walked down the red carpet between the VIP seats, heading straight for us. She caught my eyes and waved me over.
"I'll be back," I said and joined her.
She linked her arm through mine and weaved us through the comers and goers, heading outside. "Hunter wants to see you. How do you like your seats? If you want to change them, let me know."
"We're good, thanks."
Melissa lead the way through a private hallway. The giant manning the entrance let us in without glancing at the ID around her neck. There were less people here, the atmosphere was less boisterous. The posters along the walls melted together into a blob of vaguely recognizable faces as we walked past them. I recognized a few fighters as we wound our way through the hallways.
A group of people stood chatting right outside one door, on which Hunter Jamison was scrawled on a white nameplate.
"Hunter doesn't like people bothering him before the fight," one of the guys standing around said, glaring at us. His friend, whom I recognized from his visits to Hunter's gym, slapped him upside the head and mumbled something.
Melissa just rolled her eyes, knocked and cracked the door open. "Go in, Sapphire."
I closed the door behind me, shutting out the voices and the faint hum of music. The room was a rectangular space with gray walls and floor, posters of Hunter and old fighters all over the walls. In their midst was a red poster with black writings: UFC Team Jamison.
A blue matt was set in the middle of the room, and on a gray L-shaped couch sat Hunter. Leaning forward, his elbows were on his knees, his head lowered, and his dark hair shaded his face. He was already dressed for the fight, in shorts, his hands wrapped. He looked up. His eyes were dark and focused. They had that look in them. The one that promised violence. It receded when he saw it was me.
He sat up, smiled and patted the spot beside him.
"Hey," I said, taking a seat.
"Hey. Nervous?" he asked. His voice was low, calm.
"No," I mumbled. "Why would I be nervous? You're going to win."
He smiled and put his hand on my knee. It was bouncing again. I stilled and huffed. "Okay, maybe a little bit."
"I'll win," he told me. Wrapping his arm around my shoulder, he pulled me closer and kissed my hair.
"I know you will," I said. "Just don't get hurt too bad."
"I'll try," he said and leaned back. I just stayed there, leaning against him. There was a TV screen on the wall across from us, displaying the cage. But it was muted. The first fight was beginning. Hunter's fight was the last of the night. The big finale.
"Do you remember when you pulled me off that jerk in high school. What was his name?"
"Tom, I think?" I chuckled. "I had to pinch your butt."
Hunter grinned. "Yeah. Try not to do that tonight."
I laughed and slapped his stomach. "What? Pinching your butt? Or pulling you off your opponent?"
"Pulling me off my opponent," he said then wiggled his eyebrows. "You can pinch my butt whenever you want."
I stifled another laugh. "You're unbelievable."
"I know."
There was a knock on the door. Hunter sighed. "Time to warm up."
I leaned over and kissed him. "I love you. Don't get too messed up. I need you in one piece."
He pulled me back for another kiss. "I won't."
He walked me to the door and opened it. A few trainers I'd seen before stood in the hallway. I squeezed Hunter's hand and let go. "See you."
He nodded. As I turned, I felt a pinch on my butt. I snapped my head around to gape at him. He just grinned. So I curled my fist and punched his side. He grunted, chuckling.
Shaking my head, I smiled and walked away. He was unbelievable, and I loved him so much I was sick with nerves for this fight. Melissa broke from a serious-looking conversation and headed towards me. "I'll walk you back."
"Don't worry, I know the way," I said. "Thanks."
Ava walked down the hallway with another person then. She acknowledged me with a nod. I did as well and we walked past each other.
I didn't know if Hunter spoke to her or if she was just more mature than I first thought, but she didn't make another silly comment after that day in Hunter's place. And I was glad we could politely ignore each other's existence.
I couldn't remember the way to the octagon, but there were signs for directionally challenged people like me. Thank the Lord for that.
At the end of the private hallway stood two men. Cullen and Antonio. What the hell were they doing together?
I slowed my steps. They hadn't noticed me. They were speaking in hushed voices. More like arguing, really. Antonio looked nervous. As he glanced around, he saw me and his face tightened. He hissed something at Cullen and stomped away. Cullen scoffed and shook his head. Then he saw me and his expression shifted. He grinned and came to stand in my way.
"Well, if it isn't Jamison's latest flavor," he said. Clearly, he was a gentleman.
Don't curse at him. Don't punch him.
I squinted. "And you are....?" I snapped my fingers and smiled. "Oh, right. The guy who can't beat Jamison."
Cullen blinked. Then he smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You're a raging bitch, aren't you?"
Screw it. "And you're a raging asshole, so I guess we're good."
His left eye twitched. I sidestepped him and went on my way. What a prick.
The first fight of the night came to an end with a KO right as I took my seat between Jason and Scott, who both had drinks in their hands. Jason's eyes twinkled when he leaned over to speak in my ear over the loud crowd. "Want a drink, Sapph?"
I smiled and flipped him off. He knew too well I wouldn't take a drink in a place like this, and he always teased me about it. It was so easy to spike a drink, even if the bottle was closed.
I leaned back in my seat and watched the next fight. The sounds of punching and the spatter of blood made me dread the moment Hunter went into the octagon. And it came all too soon. The crowd's excitement only got more intense as Hunter's fight was announced. It seemed like the arena grew more packed.
I crossed my arms and focused on my breathing. In. Out. In. Out. It would be fine. Hunter wouldn't put himself in danger. He was a good fighter. The best. And he knew I would kick his butt if he took unnecessary risks. I didn't care if he won or lost, I only cared he was safe by the end of it.
I kept my eyes on the cage. The presenter's voice faded to the background with everything else. The crowd went crazy, and everyone turned to look in one direction. I glanced back. Hunter was walking down the red carpet leading to the octagon, all eyes on him. His black hair swallowed the spotlights. He looked even bigger somehow, his shoulders broader, his eyes darker.
Those eyes scanned the ringside seats and settled on me. He winked. He didn't need to say it. I understood. He would be fine.
I let out a deep breath and sat back. Hunter stepped into the octagon, then his opponent made his entrance, and all too soon, the black-clad referee announced the beginning of the fight and stepped back.
Hunter's opponent was younger, he even looked a bit wider around the shoulders. He was a rising star, a promising fighter in the UFC world. As soon as the referee stepped back, he went on the offensive. He launched a punch that connected, then a kick that Hunter dodged.
All my nerves tightened into a tiny lead ball in the pit of my stomach. My entire body was locked. I jerked with every hit. Then Hunter lunged forward and took his opponent down to the ground, pressing him against the cage in a wrestling move.
His opponent hit Hunter with his elbow a few times, but it didn't loosen Hunter's hold on him.
The coaches screamed on the side. The crowd's cheers and boos deafened my ears. Punches were exchanged, and every time I winced. Someone patted my hand. I looked down and realized I was squeezing the life out of Jason's poor knee.
"Sorry," I mumbled. But he, too, looked too focused on the fight. I lost myself in it, as well. At one point, I was on my feet with the rest of the crowd when it got too heated up.
Then Hunter landed a nasty right hand that landed right in his opponent's chin. I could almost hear the explosive impact. And the crowd went insane. He staggered back and Hunter took advantage of it. He was unstoppable now. A monster in the octagon, his attacks ruthless.
I could hardly believe this was the same person I went to bed with every night, the same person who made himself smaller to not scare our cat, the same person whose gentle touch set my blood on fire. I'd seen him fight on a screen, but experiencing it live was on another level.
Four rounds in, and Hunter tackled his opponent to the ground. Then it was over. He got him in a headlock. To his credit, his opponent tried very hard not to tap out, until his face turned a bright purple.
Then he tapped out. And the referee broke them apart.
I plopped down in my seat, drained in a way I'd never before felt. Scott and Jason cheered and whistled, like the rest of our surroundings. My muscles spasmed and ached. I had been too tense.
The referee announced the winner, standing between the two opponents and holding Hunter's arm up as the presenter called, "Aaaand still! The undefeated, undisputed champion! Hunter Jamison!"
The crowd cheered and bellowed. I was still seated and everyone around me was standing, so I didn't really see much of the ceremony of Hunter putting back his champion's belt.
I closed my eyes for a moment, wishing I could go home and snuggle with Stevie and Brownie.
I wondered if I would ever get used to this. I'd probably just not come to his fights if I didn't. I didn't think I could handle all the stress. I sighed. I was a shitty girlfriend.
Hunter stepped down the octagon, through waves of adoring spectators and staff that swallowed him.
Jason elbowed me. Ow. "Hey, I think you're needed," he said, looking Hunter's way. '
I followed his gaze, but I had to stand up to see anything. Hunter was looking through the people in our section. One of his eyes was already closing up, a bruise blossoming in his cheekbone.
He saw me and his one functional eye brightened up. He nodded me closer. I pushed my way towards him, and he put his arm around my shoulders and we headed out. The camera flashes went so crazy, my eyes watered. Fortunately, we were out of the arena and into the private hallway in a minute. I breathed out a sigh of relief. Phew. I really hoped my face wouldn't be plastered all over the internet tomorrow.
"Good fight," I said. Hunter grinned down at me. He was limping slightly.
I wrapped my arm around his waist and we made our way to his room, followed by an army of his staff. Once there, I stepped back and let the medics and coaches take a look at him. The cut on his eyebrow needed a stitch, and cold compresses were applied. After several minutes and a lot of fussing, Hunter finally chased everyone out.
He sighed and came to sit beside me as soon as the door. I patted my lap. He smiled and laid down on his back with a heavy sigh, his head on my lap.
"You stink," I said, threading my fingers through his hair.
His grin was lopsided. He winced. I brushed my fingers against his cheekbone. It was going to turn blue. "How was the fight?"
"Easy," he said.
"Arrogant much?"
"No, seriously," he said, his face thoughtful. "I thought my first serious fight in a while would be challenging. It wasn't."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I think I'm ready to move on."
"From fighting?" I asked.
"I feel like there's nothing more I can do here. Nothing that would be of any substance to me, anyway," he said. "I guess it's just... meaningless, at this point. I'm also not at an age where I enjoy getting beat up any longer."
"You're twenty-eight," I said. "That's an early retirement age for fighters."
He shrugged. "I don't care."
"But you'll retire an undefeated champion."
I smiled. I couldn't deny my relief. And it must be written all over my face, because Hunter smiled knowingly.
"Are you serious about it?" I asked.
"I am. I'll give it some more thought, but I think this is it."
I blew out a relieved breath. I was so glad I wouldn't have to go through this again. I leaned down and kissed him. "That's good. Whatever you do, I got your back."
He put his hand on the back of my head and pulled me to him again. "I know."
*** **** ***
I waited for Hunter until all his interviews were over. We were in the private underground parking lot, ready to go home to our fur babies, when Antonio appeared. The parking lot was almost deserted.
"Go ahead," Hunter said. He was freshly showered, his face shadowed by his hoodie.
I went ahead and started the car. Antonio pulled Hunter aside and started speaking, his hand movements urgent and his features tight. I had a bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling.
They argued for what seemed like forever, before Hunter shook his head and walked away. Antonio rubbed his face. Then his gaze set on me in a seething glower. Whoah. One would think I kicked him in his wrinkly nuts. He whirled around and stomped off to the elevators.
"What did he want?" I asked as soon as Hunter got in. I didn't even pretend not to be curious.
"What he wanted the other day," Hunter said. "A fight in the bare knuckle tournament. Apparently, they want to see me and Cullen go at it again."
I rolled the car forward and scowled. "You clearly said no. Why is he so pushy?"
Hunter sighed. "Probably the money."
"How much?"
"Antonio's cut is going to be few hundred thousands, since he's officially the person who handles my fights in there," Hunter said. "And a million dollars for me as a participation fee."
My eyes bugged out. I almost hit the brake. "One million dollars just for a fight?" I squeaked. "How much will you get if you win?"
He shrugged. "Around ten million."
This time I did hit the brakes. I turned and stared at him. "Are you serious?"
He smiled, amused. "I told you. Lots of violent-starved rich assholes."
Wow. I drove forward, more slowly. "That's a shitload of money."
"Are you having second thoughts?" Hunter said. "About me participating."
I glanced at him, unamused. "Try it and I'll kill you before you set foot in there."
Hunter chuckled. The car fused with the traffic around the arena. Thank God the windows were tainted, otherwise we would've been raided by Hunter's fans.
"You were right about Antonio," he said.
I shrugged. "Maybe. I wish I wasn't," I said. "I'm surprised you didn't see it for ten years."
Hunter drummed his fingers on the console between us. "He always pushed me for fights with better fighters. I always put it to the fact that it made me improve as a fighter. But those fights were always very well-paying ones. I think I didn't want to see it. Or maybe I just didn't care.
"I was like one of those hamsters stuck running in a wheel. I just followed. It took me almost dying to take a step back and look at my life properly. Now I can see who really cares about me for me and not just for my fame or money."
"Well, the fame and money do help," I said, "since you have very few redeeming qualities."
Hunter laughed, then held his side with a wince. "Ouch. Don't make me laugh."
I grinned, and Antonio and the bare-knuckle tournament slipped to the back of my mind.
*** **** ***
Hunter and I fell into a routine again. Going to train in the city gym a few times a week. The farmers' market on Saturday mornings. Visits with Thalia and Benjamin once every couple of weeks.
Scott was there once when they were at our place, and he and Benjamin bonded over their love for football video games. They ended up making it a ritual at our place, dragging Hunter into it as well.
Thalia and I hung out. She was a writer, I discovered. The author of one of Emma's favorite romance novels. She used an alias, which was why I didn't recognize her. Emma was absolutely delirious with excitement when I told her.
Coming home to Hunter and the pets, and the weekly routine, helped settle my anxiety. I no longer broke into a sweat thinking about the future, and I barely thought about having cancer again anymore.
I decided to take another day off of work. Fridays and Saturdays were my rest days now, and I loved every bit of it.
Hunter also told his team about his intention in retiring. But nothing was official yet.
I was also somewhat of a celebrity. A couple of my clients asked if I was Hunter Jamison's girlfriend. And a few people recognized me in the farmer's market. I didn't know how to feel about that. But I knew the attention would wane once Hunter announced his retirement.
That blissful existence came to a halt one Sunday evening, when Hunter and I were getting out of the gym in the city.
We were just getting out of the elevator parking lot when I noticed Antonio lurking near Hunter's- our- car.
Apparently, underground parking lots were always where all the action happened. I was going to stop parking the damn car underground at this point.
As we got closer, I noticed Antonio's arm was in a sling. He removed his cap and my eyes widened.
"What the hell happened?" Hunter asked, eying the older man. His face was all blue and red bruises. His lip was split and his right eye was swollen shut.
"We need to talk."
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M.B.