Battlescars (20 page)

Chester was standing right behind him. Dyson slowly turned and looked at his friend. They looked at one another and Dyson held out his hand to tap fists. Chester had other ideas, and opened his arms instead. Dyson fell into them, giving his friend a mighty bear hug. They thumped each other on the back and hugged hard, then let go with a smile.

“Let’s go kick some ass,” Chester said.

“Watch how it’s done, old man.”

Chester laughed as they made their way up the tunnel.

The crowd was deafening. The lights were so bright that for a moment Dyson couldn’t see. He was surrounded by a wall of sound, cheers and boos and everything in between. Chester’s hand was on his shoulders, guiding him. Finally he stepped into the cage, blinked a few times, and there it was: The crowd, the cage, the mat, his opponent on the other side.

Dyson stared the other fighter down as Chester guided him to the chair. The older man began giving Dyson instructions, but he hardly heard a thing. He stared until his opponent looked away first, and that gave Dyson a small bit of satisfaction. Then he scanned the crowd, hoping to see a familiar face…hoping to see the one face that mattered.

He knew that Kayla might not show up. She had made no promises, and he hadn’t pushed her. She was trying so hard to overcome her fears that he couldn’t blame her at all for taking her time and easing into the fights. If he had been in her shoes, he couldn’t say for sure he would even date someone like him. The fact that she was spoke volumes about her character, and made Dyson respect her even more…

And then he spotted that familiar smile.

There she was! Dyson sat forward in the chair, suddenly tuning out everything else. His stomach steadied and his mind focused. His heart beat faster and stronger. There she was, and suddenly all was right with the world. Not only was she there, but holy hell, did she look stunning. He’d never seen her dressed up before, and the red dress that hugged her figure made her stand out from the crowd.

“Just a minute, Chester,” he said, and rose from the chair. He ran to the edge of the cage, where she was sitting right in the front row beside George. She lifted up on her tiptoes and he knelt down. Their lips touched through an opening in the mesh of the cage, and a chorus of “awww” went up from the crowd.

“You’re going to win,” she said to him, her eyes shining.

“You know,” he said, giving her a lazy grin. “I think you might be right.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re so cocky!” Then she paused, looking him right in the eye. “Right now I want you cocky. That’s how you will win this match and not get hurt.”

Dyson lifted an eyebrow. “Okay, not hurt too badly,” she amended. She blew him a kiss and returned to her seat as every man in the crowd watched her, envious of the man in the ring.

Dyson bounced back to the chair, where Chester was glaring at him. “Focus,” he demanded, and Dyson did just that. He looked at his opponent, listened to what Chester said and in what seemed like only seconds, he was in the center of the ring and facing down his rival.

“Here we go,” he said under his breath, and took the first swing.

It landed solid, right where he wanted it. But at the same time a blow landed on his ribs and slammed him hard, making him stumble. Those first two blows were the opening salvo of a fight that was deadly serious from the very beginning, with both men landing punches and gripping hard, bodies thrown to the floor and held against the cage, arms and legs stretched and bent and held down. Within seconds Dyson was deep into the zone, fighting hard with nothing on his mind but what would come next. He tried to plan ahead, to put his opponent off balance and press an advantage but found that he was thwarted at every turn and forced to move on instinct rather than design.

By the time the first round was done, both men knew they were in for a protracted battle. Dyson wasn’t bleeding but he was already hurting from a few painful holds, his muscles stretched and bones ground together. He sat down on the chair and took some water, glancing at Kayla, who was talking to George and pointing at the cage. She seemed more animated than worried and more curious than scared. Knowing that Kayla was comfortable made it much easier for Dyson to simply focus on the match.

The second round began, and Dyson was immediately hit with a volley of punches and one violent push. That push had the distinct feel of desperation. He broke into a wide grin. His opponent had come into this fight believing that it would be an easy win, knowing that he would beat the underdog, but he hadn’t expected the newcomer to hold his own so well. Now that Dyson knew the other guy’s confidence was faltering, his own began to soar.

The result was a punishing round that led into another, and soon the blood was flowing and the bruises were forming. Dyson gave as good as he got, landing a good punch that sent the opponent to his knees, but then taking one of his own that doubled him over in sudden pain. This wasn’t just turning into a battle. It was turning into a whole war.

The crowd was going absolutely insane by the time the final round came. Both fighters were utterly exhausted. It showed in their eyes, in their movements, in the way they circled each other. The adrenaline of the early rounds had dissipated, and both fighters knew that they were running out of time and of energy. Dyson stared down his opponent even though his eyes stung with the sweat that ran into them, and his opponent wiped away blood from his mouth as he advanced on Dyson. It was a battle of wills and bodies that wouldn’t end until one of them was lying unconscious on the ground, and the crowd knew it. They were getting their money’s worth and then some.

Dyson stumbled against the cage. The other guy was on him in an instant, pummeling him to the ground. But Dyson was ready for it and let himself be held down, let himself be pulled into a position that made the crowd roar, sensing that he was about to be defeated. The moment the other guy let up – the moment Dyson felt his hands go the slightest bit weak – he slammed his leg upward and wrapped his free arm around the guy, flipping him neatly before he knew what happened to him. Dyson was on top and in control, and the crowd went insane, louder than he had ever dreamed they could get.

His opponent got loose, but Dyson had the momentum and the confidence now. One, two, three shots in rapid succession, then a fourth, then a fifth, and then…

Dyson watched through stinging eyes as the guy fell backward. He hit the mat so hard that he bounced. He scrambled to get up, but it seemed as though he was moving in slow motion.

Dyson was on him. He used all his strength to pin the guy down, and even then, the weakened opponent put up one hell of a fight. Dyson finally managed to get him under control, pulling his head back and pressing down on this shoulder, using the leverage of his body to drive his opponent to the point of surrender.

He watched. He listened. It took several long moments, but then it came.

The first tap of the hand on the mat. Then the second.

Then a long pause and then…the third.

He tapped out!

Dyson immediately let go. He fell back to the mat and the guy simply lay there while his coach rushed over to check on him. Dyson got up on his knees and looked around.

It was over.

The crowd was so loud that Dyson didn’t hear anything the announcer said. He didn’t hear what Chester was yelling at him. He didn’t hear the reporters as they asked him questions. They rushed the cage, practically climbing over each other and fighting to get to Dyson. The flashes of the cameras were blinding, even brighter than the lights above him. He saw the cameras, the big ones that meant news stations and sports channels and the cover of all the hottest sports magazines. It was all a blur of light and sound and color.

Chester – bless his soul – was the one who put himself between Dyson and the cameras. He physically placed his body in front of Dyson and didn’t allow anyone else to get near him. Dyson knew that he would thank his friend profusely later, but right now, all he wanted was to get back to his chair and collapse before his knees gave out and he made a fool of himself in front of all those cameras.

Finally some of the words got through. “Top of the division…major new name in the MMA world…brutal win after a long battle…an astounding upset…”

Security finally got a handle on the situation. Bouncers entered the cage and forced the reporters and photographers out, threatening to eject anyone who didn’t comply with their instructions. Dyson watched as the mat began to clear. His opponent had been dragged to his chair and was now sitting up, dazed by the final blow, sipping water and saying nothing at all while the medics worked on him. Dyson knew the wounds would heal and he would be fine, but his pride, well…that was another story.

The fighter caught Dyson looking at him. He gave him a sideways grin, one that looked grotesque through the blood and bruises. It was more acknowledgment than Dyson had expected. He nodded and gave the other guy a salute.

Dyson stood up. Chester tried to get him to head in the right direction, away from the crowd, but Dyson had seen something that stopped him in his tracks.

She stood there at the edge of the cage, radiant in her red dress and heels. She looked proud and composed, and she started to cross the cage toward him. A security guard put up his arm to stop her, but a word from her was enough to get her past. Maybe it was the look in her eyes, the utter happiness that shone there. Maybe it was something she said. Either way, Dyson watched as the security guard listened, nodded, then let her go.

“Hey, champ,” she said as she reached him. She looked him over, assessing the damage, and she took a step back as if she were afraid to touch his bruised body. Dyson was having none of it. He grabbed her hand, careful not to mar her perfect look by getting blood and sweat all over her dress, but he simply had to touch her. The crowd was riveted, watching the bloody victor in a surprisingly intimate moment.

Weaker than he’d realized, Dyson sat down heavily, still holding Kayla’s hand. He looked up into her eyes, and it was as if the rest of the world had disappeared. What he had been thinking over the last few days was on the tip of his tongue, and if there was ever a time to say it, this must be it. His heart sped up, pounding harder than it had when he was in the thick of it with his opponent.

“I love you,” he said to her, his voice loud and clear.

She stared at him for a moment and didn’t move. He wondered for a moment if he’d been wrong to declare his love so publicly, so suddenly. What if he’d made a mistake? He watched Kayla consider his words, and he was afraid of what she would do.

She looked down at his hand that held hers and back up to his face. “I love you too,” she answered simply.

Dyson felt as though he would collapse, his relief was so overwhelming. He managed to stand and in full view of the crowd bent and pressed the gentlest of kisses to her lips.

The crowd roared and the cameras flashed, capturing the moment that Dyson and Kayla both knew they’d never forget.

K
ayla was one of the few students who sat through the final accounting class of the semester. She was completely distracted, but she was there. It mattered to her to be there for every lecture, every grade, and every note. But even as she sat there and listened to the recap of everything she would need to know for the final exam, her mind was elsewhere. She was thinking about Dyson.

After the victory at the fight, she and Dyson had spent several days together. She had tended to his wounds while Chester dealt with the barrage of media attention that was focused on the unexpected champion. Dyson had taken Kayla by her apartment so that she could throw a few things in an overnight bag and spend some uninterrupted time with him. He wanted to hide from the reporters for a few days so that he and Kayla could talk about the future – theirs together and his as a suddenly famous fighter. They had a lot to cover.

He took Kayla to his house and there they stayed, locked away from the world. She had been intrigued to see his place, to see the perfect order that he maintained, and found that it suited her quite well. It was clear that he was a military man through and through – if she hadn’t known about his history before, she would have guessed he had served when she saw how scrupulously clean and organized the house was. The kitchen was spotless, even though it could use a little brightening up, Kayla thought, and when Kayla had peeked into his bedroom, she saw the most perfectly made bed she could imagine. Neat, and a little cold was her overall impression..

Dyson had resolved to be every inch a gentleman during the days they spent together. There was no denying the desire they both felt, but Dyson had decided that it was important – that Kayla was important enough – to make sure that they took things slow. He wanted their first time together to be perfect, and that meant that there could be no regrets. He’d also discovered that prolonging the wait before the inevitable consummation of their love was great fun. He discovered that he could drive Kayla crazy, and it turned out to be a fantastic game. He limited himself to good night kisses and oh-so-casual caresses that left Kayla breathless and craving more.