I duck my head a second too late and Sanders left hook lands successfully on the side of my head. I feel the pain of his blow deep into my skull and feedback comes from my right ear. Fuck, that's probably damaged by now too. I could've blocked his punch but my eye is swollen shut so my vision is severely limited. It's been my downfall since the start of this round and will most likely be the reason I lose this match. Sanders isn't exactly in pristine condition but he's less hurt than I am.
I throw a blind punch to his middle region, unable to hold back a grin when I actually manage to land my fist on his stomach. His answering grunt is like music to my ears and all the encouragement I need to strike out with another punch. I manage a composed left hook, being able to see properly with my left eye, and the punch knocks Sanders' head to the side with enough force to cause him to go down. I'm on him a second later and delivering jab after jab, using only my left hand for now. It doesn't last long though because my right side is vulnerable and Sanders attacks when he sees an opening. His fist lands on an already bruised region on my ribs and the pain knocks me back. He pins me down to the canvas using his hand on my shoulder to hold me in place and his other hand to punch me cheek. The guy has a spectacular fucking hook and the result of his blow has me gritting my teeth in pain to keep from screaming out. I twist the lower half of my body, the only part of me not being held down by Sanders, and use my leg to kick the side of his head.
"Shit!" He goes down covering the injury with his hand and I use that moment to stand up quickly and stumble back.
The blow of the ref's whistle is nothing short of relieving and I almost fall to my knees when the three-ring bell signals the end of the round. We're almost halfway through the match but it feels like I've been fighting for days. I didn't realize my work was this cut out for me but I suppose with seven fucking million on the line this fight won't be a joke. Any fight I've been in before this one suddenly seems laughable. This is by far the toughest and most painful type of boxing I've had to endure and I'm not exactly confident about how long I'll last. But I'm determined to take the win so no fucking chance am I going to make this a walk in the park for Sanders either.
I get to my corner but Coach isn't ready with the preps yet. That has to be the first time he's ever done that. I peek through the holes of the fenced cage and try to get a good look at what the hold up is about. I see Coach and the guys huddled together and they're all talking at the same time, crazed eyes and large gestures as they yell over one another. What the hell is going on? Something isn't right. My brows come together in confusion and I try to get their attention by shaking the cage. The rattling noise of the fence is loud enough that all five heads immediately swivel my way. I spread my arms in a 'what the fuck' gesture and the looks on their faces contort to worry and maybe even the slightest bit of sadness. Immediately my mind goes to Lizzie and then I'm sprinting out of the cage faster than I can take my next breath. My heart thuds against my chest with raw fear as I jump over the stairs and land directly on the ground, running over to the guys with pounding steps.
"What's going on over here?" The announcer says into the mic and I know all camera's are on me. I ignore it all, keeping my eyes locked on Coach, because he looks the most worried and if whatever this is is bad enough to make him lose composure, then it must be really fucking bad.
"What is it?" I yell as soon as I'm within earshot. "Is it Lizzie? God, please tell me my baby girl is okay. Please!"
I skid to a halt in front of Coach and clutch the collar of his shirt with so much force I'm surprised I don't rip it. Some of his worry seeps away from his expression at my words and I cling on to the tendrils of hope like they're my lifeline.
"She's fine, Cage."
I exhale so roughly it takes everything out of me and then I'm on my knees.
"Jesus." I cry out.
I try to steady the pounding of my heart as the words register into my head, my relief so consuming that tears prick at the back of my eyes. I don't know what I'd do with myself if anything happened to my daughter. My hands tremble where they're placed against the ground as my adrenaline fades and I will myself to relax. Lizzie is fine. She's okay and I'll be home to her as soon as this match is over. The fear slowly but surely dissipates and is replaced with confusion as I recall how worried the guys and Coach looked. I stand up on slightly shaky legs and the guys all take a step back, like they don't want to be near me right now.
"So what is it, then? What happened?"
They glance at each other silently, seeming to communicate with one another. Coach inhales deeply and brings a hand to his eyes, rubbing them with his thumb and forefinger. Why are his hands shaking? Is he...crying?
"Somebody tell me what the fuck is going on." I demand, losing any ounce of patience I had left.
Cameron is the first to speak. "Don't worry about it, man. We have this covered. You need to get back to the match because round five is about to start any minute."
"Not until you tell me what happened."
"Jaxon, please. Your head needs to be in the game and you'll only get distracted. Let us handle it."
"Does it fucking look like I'm playing games?" I explode and grab the front of his shirt, dragging him to me until we're nose-to-nose and I glare menacingly at him.
"Relax." He says calmly. "This is what I mean about you getting distracted. I haven't even told you what it is and you're already losing your shit."
"Patience hasn't always been my forté." I apologize dryly. "Now tell me what's going on or so help me, I will beat the truth out of you."
"Back up, Cage." Nate puts a hand on my shoulder and tries to pull me away. I shake him off roughly.
"Don't touch me!"
"Cool it!" Cameron yells. The look in his eyes is angry enough that I let go of him with reluctance. I'm fucking pissed myself but there's no way he'll tell me what's going on unless I back off.
He shakes his head at me, keeping his gaze locked on mine. "If you do anything irrational I will fucking take you down myself. You know better than to doubt me, Cage."
I nod jerkily. He balls his fists and widens his stance like he's preparing for a fight and my nerves skyrocket as I wait for his words.
"It's Emily. She's gone."
For a few seconds all I can do is stand there and stare at him, unblinking. The words don't exactly sink in right away and my brain goes haywire trying to decipher what he means by that. It can't be anything good if the looks on their face are anything to judge by but I curl my fingers into my palm and tell myself to speak instead of act.
"What do you mean by...gone?" I say with slow and deliberate force. The words barely make it past my gritted teeth. Cameron inhales shakily, body locking up hard enough that we both know I'm about to lose my shit.
"I'm going to explain and you're going to listen. Nothing more nothing less, agreed?" It's a question but his tone doesn't leave room for arguments so I cross my arms and nod again.
"Sir?" A meek voice says from beside me and I look down to see the ref, the embodiment of nervous. "We're about to start round five so if you...uh...if you could join us?"
"You can wait." I tip my chin away to send him off without another look and he hesitates a few seconds before quickly walking away. I raise a brow at Cameron to continue.
"Last anyone heard of her, she was in your private room to use the bathroom."
"Even when I told you to go with her." I interrupt with minimally contained anger, recalling the bad feeling in my gut when she'd just headed off, and immediately sending Cameron to go with her to be on the safe side.
"I know." He sighs in defeat, regret softening his face. "Believe me. This is just another thing I'm going to lose sleep over."
"Just go." I order. I'm too pissed to hear his excuses. He nods reluctantly.
"Anyway, after that she apparently ran out of the room crying though we're not sure why. The security guy manning your room, Jake, he said she stormed out of there and left using the back exit but he didn't think much of it at the time. When a good fifteen minutes passed and she didn't return, he came to me to ask if she meant to leave the stadium. Of course I told him that wasn't the case so we went and checked the security footage from the back of the building."
He pauses and I feel like my head is about to explode. Dread forms a ball of stone in my gut at the thought of what me might've saw on the cameras. My mind reels with the worst of possibilities and it takes all my willpower to not scream out like I want to. What happened to my girl?
"And?" I push when he doesn't speak.
He swallows and looks away from me, refusing to meet my eyes.
"It's hard to tell who else was there because there was frost covering the camera lens, but someone attacked her."
"Attacked?" I yell and uncross my arms, now completely overcome with paralyzingly fear. "What the fuck?"
"It was...it was bad, man. Whoever it was really roughed her up and believe me, it's not something you want to see."
"Just tell me where the fuck she is. Get to the fucking point!"
"We don't know!" He throw his arms up in anger. I can't tell if it's directed at me or himself. "They took her. Whoever it was threw her into a van and fucking drove off with her. She's gone, man."
"What?" The word strangles out of my throat so softly I barely hear myself speak. I speak up again, firmly, and this time there's no mistaking what I said. "What?"
"I'm so sorry, man." Cameron approaches me slowly, hands up like he's approaching a wild animal. I don't blame him because, hell, that's exactly how I'm feeling right now. "We're going to find her. I swear."
"No!" I push him away when he gets too close. "Back off! All of you, just back the fuck off."
I step away from them and force air into my lungs because I can't fucking breathe. The idea that something could've have happened to Emily, something permanent or long-lasting, is enough to make my blood freeze over until it feels like ice is running through my veins. I'm sweating all over but it's cold and it's becoming harder to see what's in front of me. The only other time I experienced a fear this raw and consuming was when I'd brokenly looked over at the passenger seat when the car crashed and saw Sam's lifeless and battered body. It was the notion that his life was at risk that caused me to paralyze with fear, just the way I was right now.
But then it dissipates. So intensely, so quickly, so irrationally, that my fear suddenly seems like a joke. I'm not scared anymore.
I'm fucking furious.
My fingers dig into my palm, hard enough to draw blood, my jaw clenches with enough intensity that I'm convinced I'm seconds away from breaking a tooth, and my breath quivers roughly with anger. I'm surprised at the odd combination of fury and calm that I feel right now. I have only one course of action in mind and nobody, fucking nobody, is going to get in my way.
This ends here.
"Jax." Cameron sees it on my face before everyone else.
I don't spare him a single glance.
"You bastard!" I turn on Ridge and then I'm sprinting the fuck towards him, skipping the stairs two at a time. His head whips toward me, watching me near him with wide eyes over his shoulder. His arms uncross and his hands barely make fists, like he's unsure if he should be prepared for a fight or not.
That's his first mistake.
"Call it!" I shout to the ref as I reach the top of the stairs. He watches me blankly, with a hint of his own fear, and I turn on him, eyes blazing. "Call the fucking round! Now!"
His eyes seem to take up the expanse of his face and then he's reaching for his whistle. I don't even wait for him to blow it before I throw my arm out and bury it deeply, satisfyingly, into Sanders' gut.
"Fuck!" He screams out, hunching over so suddenly that he immediately lands on his knees. He coughs out and droplets of blood fly out of his mouth.
"Stand up!" I grab him by the collar and do the job myself.
I yank him up with one arm, my other steadying his shoulder in place before he's even straightened, and then my knee shoots up and lands on the same place my fist resided moments ago. He coughs out again and this time some of him blood lands on me. I welcome it and feel a cruel smirk expand on my face. The hand on his shoulder moves to his neck and then my other fist flies to his cheek, my punch knocking him back until he bumps into the cage. He slides down, his legs giving out beneath him, eyes closed in what looks like sheer pain and breathing hard. My anger increases.
"Get up! Fight me like a man!" I scream out. My fists clench at my sides when he remains unmoving.
"Oh, I don't think so." I laugh coldly and stalk towards him. "You're not getting out of this that easy."
His head twitches like he can't lift it up all the way and one of his eyes squint open with obvious effort. He coughs again, chest rising rapidly. "Wait."
I don't.
My leg shoots out, the side of my foot meeting his head in a kick fierce enough that I feel it rattle my bones. His eyes roll into the back of his head and then his body sags, falling away from the cage and onto the canvas. I'm breathing so loudly it's the only thing I can hear right now. My pulse is pounding in my eardrums and it's as if I'm underwater. Everything around me sounds like faint murmurs. I can't hear, see, or feel anything but my rage.
"Get up." I command him in a low voice.
"Please." He rasps out weakly. "I can't. Call...call the match off."
"Hmm, let me think about it." I pause a second for shits and giggles before flipping his body over with my foot. He rolls until his back is against the ground and his face clenches in fear, eyes still shut. I raise my fist and bring it and my body down, the punch landing on his stomach as I hold myself up with one knee on the canvas. "No."
He screams, a sound so guttural and ear-splitting, I know for sure I broke something of his. My fist stays in place and I dig it as deeply as it can possibly go. I feel one of his ribs shift underneath my knuckles as I grunt out with strength and push further. His screams become deafening and he's pleading at me to stop. I watch his face contort in pain and my eyes track the tears steadily slipping down his cheeks.
"Did Tara hurt Emily? Are you two responsible for what happened to my woman?" I demand. I lean down and don't stop until we're nose-to-nose. "If you even think about lying, my fist will be seconds away from being acquainted with you spinal cord."
"No! No it's not like that, please!" He cries. He tries to move away but he's too weak and with the anger I'm feeling right now, I'm eons stronger than he is.
"Explain." I remove my fist and he cries out again, but this time in obvious relief.
"I don't know. I swear, Jax, I left her the day we came by the gym. I haven't heard from her since." He's rambling so fast I barely catch his words.
"She must've mentioned something about fucking around with Emily. My girl has been receiving threats when the two of you were an item."
"I don't know, please! She said something once. Something like, 'his new whore is too easy' but I didn't think any of it at the time. She never mentioned anything again and I was too busy training, anyways."
His eyes flash open and he looks at me pleadingly. I glare down at him and I can feel the heat in my eyes. I'm burning up all over with rage.
"Do you know what could've happened to Em? She's gone. Attacked and taken away."
His head shakes rapidly. "No clue. Please."
My head tilts and I look down at him calmly. His eyes search mine, probably deciphering what I'm going to do no doubt, and I feel a sneer take over my face. "Not the answer I wanted."
His eyes double in size but before he can even get a word out, I'm screaming from the force of the punch I throw and it lands satisfyingly on his face. His head snaps to the side and then his entire body seems to go limp. Not a single muscle twitches and if it weren't for the faint rise and fall of his chest I'd probably think he was dead. It's his lucky day though because he's only unconscious.
But this is far from over.
I stand up and only then do I take in my surroundings. There's pin-drop silence in stadium, no cheers or waving signs or even flashing lights. It's like the entire space stands still as they gape on at the jumbotron that's zoomed in on me and a knocked out Ridge at my feet. My eyes flick over to the ref without a word. The breath he was obviously holding swoops out of him like the look on my face alone would be enough to cause him damage. He rushes over to us in mere seconds and drops to his knees before Ridge. He starts tapping the canvas on a countdown and the crowd finally seems to blink out of their stupor, coming alive and counting down together as a whole. I'm already making my way out of the cage before the ref can finish. It's pointless. Ridge is done.
I'm just stepping off the last step of the metal staircase before the entire arena shakes with the cheers of everyone screaming, "One!" The crowd explodes, signs coming up for a reappearance or hugging one another in celebration or jumping up and down wildly. The match is over but I'm not amused. I haven't won anything worth claiming. Emily needs my help and I could give a flying fuck about this match when she's in danger.
She was attacked.
Jesus. The thought of it alone had me wiping out Ridge and the first hint of regret seeps into me. I don't plan on watching the footage for fear that I may tear this stadium apart brick my brick.
"What a finishing round! Never in my years of fighting have I experienced or witnessed such a grave offence by a fighter. What Cage did today was nothing short of lethal."
"I would not want to be Sanders right now. The paramedics are attending to him as we speak."
Sure enough, a quick glance over my shoulder confirms the situation. I watch four of them lift Ridge onto a stretcher and a fifth paramedic strap a brace around his middle. I must've done more damage than I thought. I swallow away any spurts of remorse because there's no time to dwell on anything right now. I need to get to Emily. I'm stalking out of the arena, the guys and Coach hot on my heels. There's no questioning I'm in for a major shit show with them.
"...wins the seven million dollars! Unbelievable!"
My footsteps falter the slightest. I'd forgotten about that part. The knowledge that I was now seven million dollars richer than before is enough to cause me to stumble. Rightfully so. But it doesn't stop me. Nothing can.
I storm past Jake who watches me with wide eyes and even tries to reach out for me but the look on my face is enough to cause him to shrink into himself. He's a big guy but what I'm feeling right now is borderline monstrous. I kick open the door to my room and waste no time grabbing my keys from the dresser. Fuck waiting. I was going to find Em myself.
I can feel their presences before I even see them so I turn around with a stoic expression prepared. Coach stands there with arms crossed and the guys behind him. They look warily at me over Coach's shoulder like they have no idea who I am. I can't say I blame them. I have no idea who I am. I keep my eyes on Coach because he's the only one I'll address out of respect. I lost my shit over Emily and there's no way he hasn't figured everything out himself. Though I don't want to be doing this right now, I'll give him all the answers he's probably ready to pummel out of me. We stand off, staring at one another. He breaks the silence first.
"When were you going to tell me?" His voice sounds like he's struggling for control. I keep myself as relaxed as possible because one of the two of us has to be and it sure as fuck won't be Coach.
"After this match, actually." I shrug. "Funny how that worked out."
"Do I look fucking amused to you?"
I square my shoulders. "No, sir."
"This is my daughter who's missing. You two may be doing who knows what but she's my priority before she's yours."
"With all due respect, Coach, she's just as much of a priority to me as she is to you."
His face reddens. "I won't stand for your disrespect, boy."
"And I won't stand for your unacceptance!" I explode. "I refuse to let you deny us this."
He stalks up to me and gets in my face. "Why should I allow it? Give me one fucking reason, Cage! You think I'm stupid? You think I haven't known? I've knows for far longer than the two of you realize but I was waiting for you to grow a pair and show some courtesy to the man that took you in at your lowest. "
"I know." I choke out and look away in shame. "We were wrong. Every reason we came up with to hide was just an excuse and I've done wrong by you. I won't deny that. But I will deny any say that claims I did wrong by Emily. I fucking love her, Coach."
He doesn't say a word, silently watching me. I go on.
"This right here," I thump a hand roughly over the spot where my heart is. "She is the reason it beats every fucking day. She is my will to live, to become better, to be become worthy of being the man she deserves. It could take me years before I become that man but I'll be damned if I let someone else do the job. I don't know when or how she did it Coach, but your daughter became more than just a pretty face. She got past my asshole demeanour and found a man I didn't even know existed. A man that actually gave a shit about others and could laugh and be happy and stop being so fucking mad all the time. She's the sole reason I can even look myself in the mirror and be proud of what I see reflected at me. I am nothing without her. Nothing. I can't lose her."
"Jesus." I hear come from behind Coach. I don't know which of the guys said it but they sounded as choked up as I feel.
"You love her?" Coach asks me after a huge pregnant pause. I can't read his expression for shit.
"With everything in me. There isn't one sorry motherfucker out there that could love her more than me."
His head falls back and he looks up at the ceiling silently, throat working. When he brings his eyes back to me, the tears in them nearly knock me on my ass.
"Bring my baby girl back to us, Cage. Bring her home."
I step forward and lock my arms tightly around him, clapping him on the back. "I'll never stop fighting, Coach."
"I'll kill you if you do." He returns with a clap to my back as well. The statement makes me laugh.
"I don't doubt that."
"Who are you and what have you done with Jaxon?" Asher snorts, shaking his head at me. I release Coach and saunter towards the guys confidently.
"You guys ready to help me get our girl back?"
Their immediate serious expressions instill a new level of respect within me. Their loyalty to Emily has never gone unnoticed.
"Good." I nod at their silent agreement. "Let's see what we can do while I'm calm. This won't last very long."
"I saw the footage." Cameron speaks up and swallows. "Don't watch it, Jax. Let's just see if we can identify the car's license plate."
"Agreed." I say curtly.
We all head to the security room, immediately requesting a look at the monitors. The team doesn't hesitate to jump out of their seats for us when they get a look at me. They all congratulate me on my win and I take it as politely as I can, trying to get to the computers without asking them to please fuck off. They finally take the hint from whatever they see on my face and back away, leaving us to it. I start towards the computers but am surprised to find Wolfe already seated and clacking away at the keyboards. I just barely catch a figure dragging another figure from the ground to a van and pure heat stirs up in my veins at the sight of it. I growl and lunge towards the screen like I could jump into it and beat the living shit out of whoever got their hands on my woman. Cameron locks both arms around me and holds me back.
"Cool it. Breaking a screen won't help us in any way." He scolds lowly in my ear.
"I saw." I simply say and his regretful sigh conveys his understanding.
"I'm sorry."
A loud clicking catches our attentions and we both turn back to the screen where Wolfe has paused the video to view the back of the van. He enters something into the keyboard and a black screen pops up, showcasing a bunch of code typing itself out in rapid succession. The coding stops and Wolfe hits enter. The black screen cuts and brings the footage back to the van which now looks like it's in HD. The license plate is clear as day whereas it looked like nothing but grain a few moments ago.
"Damn." Nate whistles. "Since when are you a tech man, Wolfe?"
Wolfe says nothing and continues glaring at the screen like he could burn the image in front of him alive. If I didn't know any better, I'd say our stoic guy had a soft spot for Emily. That doesn't surprise me. Emily had that effect on everyone.
"Ok, now what?" I ask Wolfe.
He grabs a pen and paper and scribbles the license plate number onto it. He clears the footage and starts up a new coding screen. This one takes a couple of minutes longer than the previous coding and I just about pull my hair out from the waiting but then it's done and Wolfe is hitting enter. A map pops up and zooms out, becoming larger on the screen until we can see all of Boston. A red line starts at our location and starts drawing itself to a pathway that leads to a set destination. The line stops and Wolfe zooms in on the coordinates. I lean forward and take the address to memory. As soon as I see the location, my blood freezes over and my heart comes to a screeching halt.
"Oh, no." I whisper, wide-eyed. Everything clicks into place and I know. I just know who did this. "This can't be happening."
"What? Where is she?" Cameron tries getting a look over my shoulder.
"Fuck!" My fist comes crashing down on the keyboard and the screen goes black. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
"Where is she?" Cameron repeats, louder.
"I don't have time to explain. We won't make it there fast enough even if we leave right this second."
"Fast enough? What's going on, Jaxon?" Asher asks.
I ignore them, pulling out my phone and making a call as I run out the back exit. I can hear the guys following closely behind but I don't wait up.
"Just follow my car!" I call over my shoulder as soon as I reach it, throwing open the door and getting in. I'm speeding away before the door even has a chance to close properly and then I take the fuck off.
"It's the fucking champion!" Lucas shouts excitedly over the line as a hello. "Congratulations, my man!"
"Lucas!" I bark. "Look, I don't have time to explain. Someone attacked and kidnapped Emily and we traced down where she is. You're at the pub right now, right?"
"Wait, what the fuck? Seriously?"
"Would I be joking about something like this?" I scream. I make a sharp left on the next turn and narrowly avoid clashing with a car on my right. The driver honks in outrage as I speed by, probably passing my third red light since I took off from the stadium.
"Yeah, I'm at the pub." Lucas responds quickly. His voice shakes and no doubt the severity of the situation is finally sinking in.
"You're closer to her location than I am. Close the shop and make a fucking beeline to her before it's too late. You're my only chance, Luke."
"I'm already on it." I hear the door of the pub closing in the background and some hope finally seeps back into me. Good man.
I rattle off the address and he grows silent on the other line.
"Fuck!" He explodes. "Isn't that-"
"Yes!" I interrupt. "Just go. Please. Save my girl."
"You have my word."
The line goes dead and I throw my phone over my shoulder and into the backseat. I step on the gas pedal and floor it, the tires squealing from the force of the sudden take off. I'm setting myself up for something inevitable with the recklessness of my driving but I'll be damned if I don't do everything in my power to get to Emily in time.
I'm coming baby, I vow silently. Just please hold on.
_________________
A/N
HOLY SHIT!
IT'S GETTING SO INTENSE GUYS! STAY TUNED FOR THE ULTIMATE ENDING!
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