10 minutes until fight time. Rule has ordered me to stay in my seat next to the ring where I would "be safe and have a nice view". Hundreds of people eagerly shove their ways into the arena trying to get a spot up at the front. I had asked Rule earlier if he knew the person Marshall would be fighting, but he said it was someone from another county. My heart pulses to the Red hot Chili Peppers (a frequent favorite at the gym) as I wait for Marshall to come out. I glance at my phone. They're late but it's what I had expected. They like to keep the crowd waiting, to give them something to scream for.
"Mind if I sit here?"
I flip around and see Cash bending down next to me. He's smiling a big toothy grin. Cash looks different dressed in jeans and a t shirt. This is much different than the torso nudity and gym shorts from yesterday.
"Of course." I say and pat the seat for him to sit down. "Where's Leto is he okay?"
"Well I took him to the hospital." Cash sits down beside me and uses obnoxiously big hand gestures to explain. "He broke a rib."
"What?" I ask in shock. "Really? A rib? What did the doctor say? Is he alright?"
"Yeah he's gonna be fine. It's just a mild fracture." Cash calms my nerves. "He just can't fight for a couple weeks."
"I hope he feels better soon." I say.
We talk briefly about Leto and what types of shots they gave him and such. Many people have come in now. If I wasn't in a seat, I'd be pressed up against many bodies all shoving towards the front. Cash seems to be pretty riled up. He stands, joining in the cheering for the fight to begin. The reff is an older man, and anyone can see on his arms he was fully tattooed when he was younger. A younger man, probably 30, comes out with a microphone and begins announcing the competitors.
"Alright how's everybody doing tonight?!" He screams and the crowd goes insane with applause and cheers. "I don't wanna waste any time so lets get right to it! From our very own infinite boxing club, Marshall Mathers!"
Sure enough, Marshall walks out guided by Rule. His head hangs low covered by the black hood on his robe. Black boxing gloves poke out of the sleeves. He steps into the ring and I find myself on my feet. There's now a pit in my stomach and the fight hasn't even started yet. Cash is roaring beside me, but I feel like I'm all alone in the room.
"And all the way from Ann Arbor, Taylor Decko!"
A red hooded figure steps into the ring with Marshall. Taylor's robe is removed, and I can see he is hunched over. Taylor straightens up, growing larger than before. His muscles are huge, similar to The Rock's. I glance at Marshall whose removed his own robe and stands in some black Everlast shorts. He's tiny compared to Taylor and my stomach twists uncontrollably with nerves.
"Ready?" Cash yells over the noise of the crowd.
"Cash, what weight class is Marshall in?" I ask.
"Lightweight." He answers.
"Okay and what class is that beast in?"
Cash's smile disappears. He stays silent and I stare at him, eyes begging for an answer. He refuses to give in.
"Cash is this fight legal?"
"...not exactly..." He says quietly.
"Oh my god!" I yell at him. "We have to stop this! That guy's gonna kill him!"
"Hey calm down he does this all the time!" Cash yells back to me. "He's fine Rachel just watch him fight he's phenomenal."
We're interrupted by the announcer introducing the two fighters. Taylor smirks at Marshall in a "I'll take you down" kind of way. Marshall's face shows no emotion at all. He's in fight mode. I can't breathe. I'm holding my breath and Cash's bicep, shaking with fear. No one told me this fight was illegal. Rule said Tony runs the illegal fights.
The referee stands between Marshall and Taylor, explaining the rules to them. Shocking that there are still rules given that this fight is against the law. I watch the reff back up to the ropes and blow his whistle. The fight begins. Marshall and Taylor dance around each other. Taylor takes a few warm up swings and Marshall easily dodges them. The crowd screams, demanding action. Cash is quiet next to me. I don't know why but I feel like he is keeping calm for me. It isn't helping at all.
Marshall swings his arm up towards Taylor's face but he jerks back, avoiding the blow. The first round ends, neither of them touched by the other. They go for 7 rounds like this. My stomach unhitches and I start getting into the mood of the fight. Round 8 starts and I'm clapping and cheering. Cash has gone back to yelling also, he's extremely loud and supportive of Marshall.
Marshall swings his left arm up to Taylor's face. Taylor leans back, leaving his stomach exposed and Marshall seizes the opportunity. He delivers punch after punch, rotating between Taylor's jaw and abdomen. I cheer loudly yelling praises at him. Marshall corners Taylor into the far corner of the ring and repeatedly hits him over and over again. The reff taps him, making the two of them reset. Taylor's nose is oozing blood and his eyes angrily narrow onto Marshall.
The reff barely commences the reset and Taylor is charging Marshall. He sends horrible looking punches with incredible force to Marshall's bruised stomach. My body tenses again, Cash has stopped screaming. Slowly, he takes my hand and we both squeeze. Oh shit. If Cash is worried that means this isn't supposed to happen. I watch Taylor beat on Marshall some more. Marshall's gloves are pulled up to cover his face, leaving his stomach open. Taylor stops for a moment and Marshall plunges his right glove towards Taylor's face. He ducks, and sends a powerful full force punch into Marshall's jaw.
After that, the world seems to slow down. Marshall falls to the mat in slow motion. All sound is cut off from my ears. I can't hear anything, I stare blankly at Marshall on the mat registering the fact that he's down. It clicks for me that he's never been down before. This is his first loss. The news will be all over this. In a matter of seconds Rule jumping into the ring screaming for people to back up and people from Ann Arbor are pulling a concerned Taylor out of the ring. My stomach churns and I feel as though I'm going to throw up. Rule lifts Marshall with two other guys and carries him towards the locker room through the crowd. Cash shakes me aggressively and shouts, snapping me back to reality.
"Rachel lets go!" He yells. "Now!"
He pulls me by the wrist through the crowd and into the locker room. Marshall is laying unconscious on a bench surrounded by Rule, Maverick, the reff, and other people from Ann Arbor. Cash runs over and gets into a heated conversation with Rule. I examine Marshall from 10 feet away. He's bruised, all over. His cheek is bleeding from the impact and bruised on both sides. Maverick removes Marshall's gloves and the wrap on his hands has cut into his knuckles. I stare at my broken boy on the bench, unable to speak or even think. I notice that I cannot see him breathing. His chest isn't rising and falling like it does when he sleeps.
"Is he alive?" I say loudly.
The men stop talking and look at me.
"Yes." Rule says. "But we need to get him to a hospital. The ambulance is on its way."
I nod in response, staring at Marshall's bruised up body.
"He'll be fine." Rule assures. "They're gonna help him."
The men go back to talking, and I stand there blankly again, unsure what to do. I walk to the bench where Marshall is and see he looks worse up close. I sit down beside him and hold his hand that's hanging off the side of the bench. He looks dead. Blood drips from his cheek and temple. I do what I can to get the blood off of his knuckles with a gym towel. His fingers twitch, and his back arches a little. His eyes flick open for a few seconds and he gasps for air. All the men surround him again.
"Marshall?" Rule asks. "Can you hear me? Marshall?"
"I can." He says quietly, shutting his eyes again.
"Decko knocked you out he broke some of your ribs the ambulance is coming just hang tight." Rule explains to him.
"Where is she?" Marshall coughs.
"She's right here." Rule says sternly. "She's holding your hand. Can you feel it?"
"Rule." Marshall slurs. "Tell her I love her."
"She can hear you brother." He explains.
"I love you too." I say to Marshall.
"Rach-." He starts, but his sentence is replaced by coughing and he knocks out again.
Outside, sirens wail in the distance. They're almost here. He's gonna be okay. He will live. I repeat these phrases over and over to keep myself sane. Rule pulls me into a short side hug in a brotherly way. It's a short time before I'm torn away from Marshall and held back by Rule. EMT's swarm over Marshall lifting him onto a stretcher and taking him out to the ambulance.
"I'll drive." Rule says.
Him, Maverick, Cash, and I race out to Rule's maserati in hopes to follow the ambulance to the hospital. It's going to be a very long night.