Every muscle in Gunner’s body was screaming, and when he looked out into the front row and saw Zack sitting next to Tammy, grinning and giving him a thumbs up, he wanted to kill the son of a bitch. He’d already won two fights, the first one by a knockout and the second one by finally getting the guy to tap out, right before his opponent’s shoulder snapped. He only had an hour between number two and three, though, and he was fucking beat. Raymond had sent a masseur in to rub him down while he stood by and gave him a litany of everything he could have done better in the second match. Gunner tuned most of it out. He knew what he needed to do better; it was just a matter of having the strength left for the final two fights to do it. The first round of fight number three had already been hell. This guy was going after him with everything he had.

He looked from Zack to Tammy and tried to draw strength from the pretty smile on her face. He could see the worry in her eyes so he was especially touched by the smile. Raymond was holding the cold-ass Enswell iron to the cut on his eye, so he wasn’t sure the smile he shot back in her direction conveyed that. She hadn’t wanted to come, but told him she’d be even more anxious sitting back at the clubhouse, waiting to hear what was going on. Billy was sitting next to Tammy, and Patty and her Latin lover Manuel next to him.

“Listen to me, kid,” Raymond said. “This guy needs to win or he’s out, and he’s fighting like it. You’re going to have to remember what I taught you if you’re going to beat this guy. Use the defensive tactics that you learned and wear him down, got it?” He took the cold steel off Gunner’s face and Gunner nodded. “You tired, kid?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“So is he. Remember that. When your muscles are begging for rest, remember that his are just as tired as yours are and keep going. Keep moving. Don’t stop.”

“Okay. I got it,” Gunner said. He just wanted to get this shit over with. He loved the challenge of a good fight…one fight, with one man. This tournament stuff was shit that he wouldn’t be looking to do anytime soon again. He wanted to win this, collect his money, and get as far from Tennessee as he could. He looked back over at Zack. He had his arm resting on the back of Tammy’s seat. Fuck. He wanted to kill that guy.

The sound of the bell brought him out of his homicidal fantasies and back to the task at hand. He could do this. He’d kicked ass in his first two fights. He had to give Ray credit, he’d taught him a lot in only two weeks. The first fight had been almost too easy. He’d only taken one well-placed punch from his opponent in the stomach before Gunner went after the guy’s face and head. He threw punch after punch until the man’s eyes suddenly glazed over and he hit the mat. The second fight hadn’t been that easy. They went three rounds and the only reason the other man submitted was because Gunner had him on the mat with his left arm twisted up behind him. Looking like he was on the verge of passing out from the pain, the man finally used his other arm to tap out. Gunner hadn’t meant to dislocate the shoulder he was holding onto; it had just snapped out of place when he let it go. The sound of the man’s scream tore through him and he tried to help him up. His opponent had used his good hand to bat away the one Gunner was holding out to him. Exhausted and on the verge of collapse himself, Gunner said:

“Fuck you, then,” as he limped back to his own corner. By that time Gunner had blood running down the side of his face from a hard, direct hit, and every fiber in his body felt like it was on fire.

The buzzer rang and Ray patted him on his sore shoulder and said, “Okay, kid, go get it done.”

Gunner nodded and limped back out to the center of the octagon to the sound of mixed applause and boos from the audience, and sized up his next opponent. The guy he was fighting was known as “Dave the Destroyer.” He was taller than Gunner, but Gunner had him in weight and muscle mass. What worried Gunner was that “Dave” had also already had two fights, and his dark skin didn’t appear to have a break or bruise on it. The other thing that worried him was that the other man was smiling…like he was anticipating what he was about to do to Gunner. At the referee’s behest, the two fighters tapped knuckles. The buzzer sounded once more and Dave came out fighting, sending a right hook and then a left jab in Gunner’s direction. Gunner sucked in a sharp breath when the man’s large fist connected with the cut near his eye. He felt the trickle of warm blood as it ran down his face. Knowing Raymond would use the Enswell on him again gave him the boost he needed to throw his first punch. It landed on Dave’s big jaw and the other man stumbled backwards.

Gunner felt a sudden rush of adrenaline. His limbs were tingling and his heart rate sped up. He advanced and threw another punch while the other man was off balance. He expected it to knock Dave down, or at least set him off balance even more. Instead, it only seemed to piss him off, and he returned the blow. His fist connected with Gunner’s mouth and he felt his lips split. For a few seconds, he was dazed, and Dave got off another wicked punch that struck him in the ribs before it registered to him that Raymond was yelling at him to use his kicks. He backed up as much as Dave would let him and tried to get a roundhouse kick off. Before it connected, Dave caught his leg and twisted it, taking Gunner to the ground. He tried to pounce down to pin him, but Gunner was able to scramble away and get to his feet. When Dave came at him again, he was ready. He threw out his leg and his big foot connected with the center of Dave’s thigh, causing him to drop down to his knees. Gunner dove for him and there was a grappling match on the mat. Neither man could manage to get the upper hand, but Dave got to his feet first. Gunner had to use the mesh to pull himself up and as soon as he was on his feet, Dave threw another punch. It caught him just under the chin and his head snapped back. If not for the mouthpiece, his teeth would have hit together so hard, they might have broken. Gunner’s ears were ringing but something about that hit had given him another surge of adrenaline and confidence. He grunted out loud as he threw a kick into the side of Dave’s legs. The man teetered back and forth and Gunner kicked him again, knocking him on his ass. He didn’t hesitate to go down to the floor as well, and this time he had the upper hand.

His breaths were short and ragged, and his heart was pounding violently in his chest as he straddled the other man on the floor from behind and grabbed his powerful thighs. He pulled them up with another loud grunt. Dave let out a wild yell as Gunner managed to hyper-extend one, but he wasn’t ready to be beat just yet. He used his arms to push himself up and he began to buck wildly, trying to throw Gunner off his back. Gunner wanted to let go. His arms were burning and his head was pounding, but he told himself what Ray kept telling him. He just had to wait him out and let him wear himself down. It seemed like hours passed to Gunner as he held onto the man’s powerful legs with shaking arms. He kept wondering why the buzzer hadn’t rung yet. The man underneath him suddenly went limp and through a haze of blood and sweat, Gunner saw him lift his right arm and tap the mat. He released his legs and rolled off him onto his back. It was only seconds later when the buzzer rang and Dave realized that he should have waited. Gunner almost felt sorry for him as he watched Dave bury his face in his arms. Raymond and his helper were pulling Gunner to his feet. Gunner stopped them and put a hand out to Dave. This time the other fighter took it and, teetering on his own shaky legs, Gunner helped him to his feet.

When he got back to his corner he looked at Tammy. Her eyes still looked worried, but she blew him a kiss. He winked at her with his uninjured eye and tried to smile. Zack was smiling at him too. With a great deal of effort, Gunner lifted his right hand and his middle finger. He saw Zack laugh. Fucker.

* * *

Gunner had less than a half an hour to rest before he was called out for the last fight. He went out first with Raymond and the other guy working with him, a kid named Ben. As he stood in the center of the octagon and watched Red Crow advance down the aisle, he was overwhelmed at how big the Indian looked. He didn’t remember him being so damned big. He looked like he might have put on another twenty pounds of muscle since Gunner saw him last. That could go two ways. One, he could use that muscle to beat Gunner down in the first round. Or two, it could weigh him down and give Gunner an advantage. He could only hope it went the second way.

Red Crow also didn’t look like he’d already had three fights. He was practically jogging down the aisle, anxious to get to it. Gunner could see that he was smiling as he got closer, and his eyes were on Gunner’s face. The door was pulled open for the big man and he stepped inside. He finally tore his eyes from Gunner’s face and turned to play to the cheering crowd. He held his arms up above his head and put his hands together so that every muscle in his giant arm was flexed tight. The crowd roared. Gunner was watching him as he heard Ray’s voice in his ear: “He’s all show, kid. You can beat his ass.”

“He’s got a big ass,” Gunner said with a painful grin.

“Just means he’ll hit the mat harder when he falls on it. He’s too big. As long as you don’t let him knock you out with the first few punches, you’ve got this. He’s going to tire out quickly. He’s weighted down. Use your kicks, stay out of reach of his fists, and don’t stop moving. As soon as you see him start to look like he’s done, take him down.”

Gunner nodded. Ray made it sound so easy. The referee called them to the center and Gunner’s eyes met Tammy’s again. He tried to draw strength from her. She still hadn’t said that she loved him, but she was getting closer to it, he could feel it. She was more affectionate with him, even when they weren’t having sex, and when she talked about the future, she often included him in it, saying “we” should do this or that. He almost had himself convinced that she’d agree to go to Massachusetts with him when this was all over. The only thing holding her back was Tommy. She called the hospital twice a day to check on him, from a different burner phone each time. So far, he was still medically stable but he hadn’t woken up yet, and they couldn’t tell her why. Zack told her that Randall had finally admitted someone was trying to take him out, and he’d gone into hiding. No one was quite sure where he was, but before he went, he’d called Tammy and told her not to worry. Not that it stopped her from worrying, but she did feel better than knowing he was walking around with a target on his forehead.

When the referee finished his spiel, Gunner tried to tap knuckles with Red Crow, but the big guy pulled his hands back. Gunner was glad. He hated a poor sport and that just gave him another reason to want to beat the guy’s ass. He went back to this corner and when the second buzzer rang, he came out, dancing on his feet. The big Indian was throwing punches, and Gunner did as Ray told him and dodged them or blocked them without throwing any of his own. Each time he got out of the big guy’s reach he threw out a kick. Two of them had connected rapidly, causing Red Crow to double over for just a second. That was when Gunner went in and tried to take him down, but that was a mistake. The Indian wasn’t tired yet and as soon as Gunner got close, Red Crow wrapped his big arms around him in a vise-like grip and took him to the floor. Gunner felt like he couldn’t breathe as the Indian used his body weight to pin him to the mat. He was on the verge of panic when he heard Ray yelling at him. He tried to quell the panic and listen. What he heard was Ray telling him to keep moving. If he had enough air and could expand his lungs, he would have laughed. He had over two hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle on his back, and Red Crow was grabbing for his legs. Gunner struggled to get his elbows underneath him. Red Crow had hold of one of his legs by the time he did. With the loudest grunt he ever heard come out of his body, he pushed himself up on his elbows. It startled Red Crow and he adjusted his weight. That gave Gunner the opportunity to buck him, and he slid off to the side holding onto Gunner’s right leg. As soon as he did, Gunner brought his left leg over and kicked him in the head. It was an odd angle, so there wasn’t that much power in the kick, but it was enough to knock him sideways. As soon as the weight was off him, Gunner scrambled across the sweat-soaked mat and pushed up. Red Crow still had a hold of his leg, but he wasn’t gripping it as tightly as he had been. Gunner used his other leg and kicked Red Crow over and over as he tried to pull him back down. The crowd was going crazy, and the Indian finally gave in and let go.

He put his hands underneath him in push-up position but before he could rise, Gunner dropped down on top of him, hard enough to slam him back into the mat. Gunner heard him gasping for air and took advantage of it. He straddled him and put his arm around the Indian’s neck and pulled back on it as hard as he could. Red Crow was trying to twist and buck out from underneath him, but Gunner was done. He wanted this over with so he could take a shower, have dinner with his baby, and if he still had any range of motion, make love to her all night long. With a burst of energy that came from that thought, he pulled back even harder. He didn’t know that Red Crow had passed out until the referee came over and made him let go. It was over. He’d won by a submission. He dropped down to the mat on his butt and searched out Tammy’s pretty eyes. She finally looked happy. She was on her feet cheering for him. Zack stood next to her with his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face. When Gunner looked at him, he gave him a nod. Once again, Gunner used the last of his energy to raise his middle finger. Fuck Zack. He couldn’t wait to see the asshole in his rearview mirror.