Change of Heart - By S.E. Edwards Page 0,74
done way more fucked up shit in his time. This doesn’t even register.”
“So you learned how to fight after? Because of what he said?”
Rich grimaces a bit. “Yeah, I guess. I started going to underground fight rings about the same time I left New York.”
“You mean, those things are real? I thought they were only in the movies.”
“You’re probably thinking of ‘Fight Club,’” Rich says. “And yeah, they’re real all right. Just hidden deep underground.”
“So you still do it then?” I ask. “You still… fight?”
Rich shakes his head. “I haven’t for more than a year. I still train. But I don’t fight anymore.”
He sounds like he doesn’t want to add more, but for some stupid reason, I press on. “How come?”
“Because nothing good comes out of fighting, that’s why,” Rich says sternly. I can feel his body go rigid beside mine. “Because it’s fucking stupid. Because good people get hurt.”
“Oh,” I say in a small voice. I’ve upset him. All because of my damn curiosity. He keeps talking though, almost in a chant, and I can just feel the anger radiate from him.
“His name was Cody. A good kid. Only a few years younger than me. It seemed like so much more back then. Wanted me to take him under my wing. I said no. He wouldn’t give up. Damn persistent, he was. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have let him fight. He wasn’t ready. But he saw me in the ring. He wanted to do the same. Wanted the attention, the prize money… hell, I don’t know. I told him no, but he kept asking.”
The words stream out of Rich, becoming faster, more heated. “Eventually, I relented. What was the worst that could happen? I was so wrong. He went up against the reigning champ. I could have taken him. Not Cody. Cody stepped into the ring. He swung, and missed. The other guy hit him square in the jaw. Cody staggered back. The champ kept coming. He rained a flurry of punches at him. Left, right, left.” Rich’s shoulders jerk forward and back, as if he’s throwing small, imaginary jabs. “Cody got pushed out of the circle, into the crowd. Usually that means the end of a fight. But Cody had spirit. He staggered back into the arena before I could grab him. He tried attacking the other guy while he was distracted. Didn’t work. The champ twirled back and landed a haymaker. Cody collapsed. He just crumpled down.”
Rich’s eyes darken. “Still he didn’t give up. He tried standing. The guy he was fighting was livid at that point. He jumped on Cody, driving his head into the concrete. Still Cody didn’t give the signal to stop. It was madness. I tried to run in to help, but people held me back. Everyone was yelling, screaming. ‘Kill him! Kill him!’ The crowd had tasted blood. It was a fucking madhouse.”
Rich goes quiet for a few moments. “Fighters know when to quit. They know when they’ve had enough. And there’s always, always a sort of grudging respect between two opponents in the ring. But nobody knew Cody. He was a newcomer. Nobody gave two shits about what happened to him. All they knew is he was cocky as hell for not surrendering.
“I lost sight of him in the bodies. When I finally broke through, he was lying in a puddle of his own blood on the ground. He was unconscious. The other guy hadn’t let up. He kept pummeling at Cody’s face, screaming, ‘HAVE YOU HAD ENOUGH? HAVE YOU HAD ENOUGH?’ Three guys were trying to pull him off, but he was like a rock.
“I ran and tackled him, trying to save Cody. The crowd went hysterical. I lost sight of everything as dozens of bodies crash into me. I was under a dog pile. All I could think of was Cody. Cody, Cody, Cody. I knew he was in trouble. I knew it was my fault.”
Rich stops. He blinks a few times, as if surprised by everything he’s just said.
“And then what?” I prompt, unable to suppress my curiosity.
Rich shakes his head. Sadness fills his voice. “That’s it. As soon as people realized Cody was seriously hurt, they cleared out of there. Nobody wanted to get blamed for the situation. I crawled to Cody. I remember—” Rich’s voice becomes shaky, “—I remember trying to use my phone. To call for help. But the damn thing had no signal underground. I remember pressing the buttons. Nine. One. One.