Chapter Four

Song of Love

ELI STOOD mesmerized by the two men in the midst of a battle to the finish. Hewett was giving it everything he had, while simultaneously trying not to get himself knocked out by the Demon’s legendary right hook.

At first Eli had been a little worried his feelings for Jessie would impede his ability to do his job, but the moment Jessie stepped foot in the ring, Eli had found himself completely immersed in his role, doing his best to make sure Jessie had everything he needed when he needed it. Whenever Jessie came back to his corner, Jasper and Eli jumped into action, checking his injuries, giving him water, patting him down, and offering words of encouragement. It had been one hell of a fight from the get-go. At first the spectators had booed Jessie, but as the fight progressed and Jessie’s good-hearted nature shone above Hewett’s arrogant and unsportsmanlike conduct, those boos soon sounded a whole lot like cheers.

Jessie had spent the first round studying his opponent, and in the second, Hewett had made the mistake of underestimating him. That mistake cost him dearly, and he went down hard, managing to get to his feet just as the referee reached the count of eight. Much to Eli’s frustration—and that of the crowd—Hewett then resorted to either clinching Jessie or avoiding him altogether in an attempt to wear him down. By the fifth round, Hewett’s plan had succeeded, and Jessie had gone down after a fierce onslaught of right and left hooks. The sounds of the crowd jeering distracted Hewett’s ego long enough for Jessie to push himself to his feet without the danger of getting pummeled back down, and all on the count of nine. Eli had held his breath for so long, he was surprised he hadn’t gone blue in the face. They were in the final round, and the crowd was going nuts—one of the nearby radio broadcasters had announced this fight as Jessie’s “second coming.”

When Jessie next hit the corner, Eli dabbed the small cut on his cheek, grateful it wasn’t bleeding. Jessie was covered in nasty bruises and nicks. He dripped with sweat, and his breath came out labored. Jessie was pushing himself more than he had in years.

“You have to let him hit you,” Eli found himself saying.

“What?” Jessie and Jasper exclaimed simultaneously, both looking at him as if he was nuts.

“He knows he’s wearing you down. That’s why he’s been coming at you more. Every time you move away from him, he moves toward you. Let him think it’s all over for you. One opening, Jessie, that’s all you need. I know you’re tired, but you have to reach deep. You can do this. Just like your fight with Jonson. He thought you were beat, but he’s the one that ended up beat, remember?”

Jessie nodded. “I remember.” He got to his feet, wobbled a little, but shook himself off. He turned to Eli and gave him a wink before going off to face Hewett.

The gong sounded and the fight resumed. Jessie did as Eli suggested. He swayed a little and kept himself out of Hewett’s reach. The broadcasters declared Jessie’s defeat “despite his exalted efforts” as “tragic yet inevitable.”

And then Hewett took a swing at Jessie.

It was over in seconds. Jessie had patiently waited for his chance, and the second Hewett pulled his arm back, Jessie delivered a right hook to the ribs, sending Hewett reeling back into the ropes. The moment Hewett doubled over, it had taken Jessie a left hook, an uppercut, and one fierce right hook to slam Hewett into the canvas. By the end, Jessie was barely standing, but Hewett was out for the count.

“Ten!” The referee shook his head and swung his arms. He grabbed Jessie’s arm and raised it high above his head, declaring him the winner. The crowd jumped to their feet in a roar, boaters and caps soaring through the arena.

“Oh my God!” Eli threw his arms around Jasper, and the two of them hugged and jumped up and down. “He won! He won!”

“Son of bitch did it!” Jasper hooted.

As soon as the referee released him, Jessie went over to Eli and threw an arm around him, squeezing him tight as managers and promoters, referees, and sponsors flooded the ring to congratulate Jessie. Even Hewett’s manager came over to shake Jessie’s hand.

“That was one hell of a fight, Dalton. Didn’t know you still had it in you. Shame there was no title to be won.”

Jessie shrugged and smiled. Once the man had walked off, he bent his head to whisper into Eli’s ear, “I’ve got the love of the crowd and the man at my side. That’s a win far more valuable than any title, wouldn’t you say?”

Giving Jessie a discreet squeeze in return, Eli couldn’t have agreed more, and as soon as they were done celebrating here, Eli would get that room booked and offer Jessie his own personal brand of celebration. Fighting dirty and moving below the belt would be encouraged, and greatly rewarded.