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  The MMA Fighter

  Book Two

  Copyright © 2015 Sandy Kline

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  Dedication

  Special thanks to my kids Ethan and Diego and my good friend Dan Mustaro

  Edited By

  Deborah Anne Larkin

  PUNISHED

  The MMA Fighter

  Book Two

  By SANDY KLINE

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE - KNOCKING

  CHAPTER TWO – WHAT CHRISTINE MISSED

  CHAPTER THREE – THE TRIALS OF JAKE

  CHAPTER FOUR – JAKE’S TRIUMPH

  CHAPTER FIVE – PINCH ME I’M NOT DREAMING

  CHAPTER SIX – THE CHICKENS COME HOME TO ROOST

  CHAPTER SEVEN - RESCUE

  CHAPTER EIGHT – TOO MUCH INFORMATION

  CHAPTER NINE – GET OUT OF JAIL FREE CARD

  CHAPTER TEN – ACTIONS NOT WORDS

  CHAPTER ELEVEN – BACK IN BLOOD

  CHAPTER TWELVE – MAKING UP FOR LOST TIME

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN – THE UNBEATABLE FOE

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN – OUT OF TIME

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN – WHAT JAKE DOES

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN - IN LIMBO

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – THE JOB OFFER

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – THE INTERVIEW

  Chapter One

  Knocking

  My body aches. My arms feel like they’re gradually being torn from their shoulder sockets. It’s slow. It’s agonizing and I feel like screaming. It takes a moment to realize I’m lying on some cold stone floor wearing nothing but a bra and panties. I can feel the cold from the cement where my bare flesh makes contact. I can feel it slowly seeping in, deeper and deeper by the minute. Before long I go from shivering to shaking uncontrollably. My knees are cramping and I need to straighten them out but my ankles seem to be tied to my wrists which are trussed up behind my back. I feel like a side of beef in the deep freeze, and whoever did this knows something about pain and how to best inflict it. My body passed pain hours ago and is well entrenched in torture territory now.

  I try to swallow but there’s zero saliva in my mouth. Instead there’s this acrid chemical taste that lingers on my lips and tongue and travels all the way to the back of my throat. My mind feels like it’s buried in six feet of mud. Or like one of those dreams where everyone and everything is moving at a fast rate and I’m like I’m trapped in quicksand; both physically and mentally. There’s something else bothering me. It’s knocking at the edge of my conscious but I just can’t quite see what it is.

  At first I think I still have the bag over my face but slowly as my eyes began to adjust I’m able to make out my surroundings. I’m in some kind of shack or building with thin walls because I can hear noises from the outside. There’s the occasional car honking, sometimes the screech of brakes, and then when there are no cars I can hear crickets. I don’t know how long I’ve been here but judging from my pain I’d have to guess it’s been hours.

  There it is again knocking…knocking…who is knocking against my consciousness? I feel like I’m forgetting something vital but I just can’t place it. If Diego were here he tell me to just step outside myself and take a look just like one of his superheroes he’s always making up. Diego! He’s at home with a sitter and I’m going to be late again. I promised I wouldn’t leave him overnight ever again and I probably have done just that. Something else is gnawing at me though…I still haven’t got it right. I have to think but my brain just won’t function the way I want it to. Think Christine, think!

  Who would want to kidnap me? I can think of two people off hand. Either King or Boomer for…for I don’t know why. Out of spite maybe? And the bikers he used to get his drugs from; the ones that I now owe a boatload of money to, they’re probably pretty pissed that I flew the state. Coming back to Oakland California must have been a godsend for those bastards. They’re on the short list for people who want to harm me. Of course the other two are King and Boomer. But it couldn’t be King or Boomer. Both were scheduled to fight the same night Jake was. Oh shit, that’s tonight. I was on the way…Diego and I was on the way. That’s it! That’s what’s been knocking at my consciousness. Diego should be here with me.

  Oh my god where’s my son? I open my mouth to scream his name when something stops me. For some reason I think it would be better if they think we’re asleep. Instead I whisper into the darkness.

  “Diego sweetie, are you okay?”

  Silence.

  “Diego honey are you there? If you can’t talk just grunt so mommy knows you’re okay.”

  I call out to him until my throat is too cracked and dry to continue the effort. I desperately need water.

  I wait and wait while holding my breath just so I can hear a quiet response from him but I don’t hear a thing. I resist the almost unbearable urge to just start shouting at the darkness that seems to be holding my son hostage. I refuse to believe anything bad has happened to him. Well, anything worse than getting kidnapped that is. It takes some work but I manage to turn over. Still no sign of him as my eyes scan the darkness.

  I can literally feel the suffocating heavy cloak of despair as it descends upon me. Suddenly I can’t breathe and my heart is racing, beating painfully in my chest. Diego was sitting right next to me when it happened. If my son isn’t here with me that means they didn’t take him with them. I can only think of one reason they would not have scooped up Diego as well and I can’t afford to finish that thought, but I do anyway; it can’t be helped. The accident must have killed my son. The second I acknowledge that thought in my mind it takes hold of me and rips at my soul. I yank and pull at my bindings in a frenzy, hoping that my sudden rage will give me strength I didn’t previously possess. As I struggle I’m painfully aware I have only one thought in my mind and that’s to end the pain; the mental anguish. I only know of one surefire way to do that and if there is any way to end my life right now I’ll do it. I lived through the murder of one son but I had a powerful reason to keep living; the tiny baby growing inside of me. I don’t have any reason to live now.

  Frantically I call out to him over and over but I get no response to my croaking voice. I wiggle around as much as I can but because of the way I’m tied up I really can’t reach out and feel around for him. What could have happened to my son? Suddenly great anguished sobs rack my body and with each anguished movement my body burns even more. Any hope I had of this whole mess actually turning out alright has just been dashed with the stark realization that my son was with me when I was taken and now he appears to be gone. I swear to god, if I get out of here and if I get my son back alive I’m leaving for Oregon and I’m never coming back here. I hate this awful place.

  Presently I hear a pair of boots coming in my direction. I Force myself to relax and pretend to be passed out. From the sound there must be several people approaching.

  “She alive?” Asks a man.

  “Oh yeah, she’s just pretending she’s unconscious.”

  Just hearing her voice makes me jump inside. I don’t know who the man is but I’m positive I know who the woman is and I can’t believe it. The woman is none other than Dr. Frazer, the doctor who was helping me uncover lost memories. I’ve been outplayed the second I arrived in California it would seem. Doesn’t add up though. Seems like the less I remember of anything the better for them. So why try to help me remember anything at all? Unless she thinks she can control what memories come up…manipulate what I remember…

  That’s it of course. She was trying to control my reality. By telling me about the risks of false memories and how she is able to distinguish between what’s real and not, she was also insinuating that I would not be able to te
ll between the two. That put her in a position of power and control. If a memory came up that would be dangerous for them she could easily tell me that was a false memory; diabolical really. That doesn’t explain the part about me remembering being kidnapped and possibly raped though. Seems like she’d want that suppressed must be missing something important here. I think I need to have some more sessions with the good Doctor Frazer.

  “Where’s the kid?” Dr. Frazer suddenly asks.

  I jerk despite my bonds and my heart just about bursts. Could it be he’s alive? I was certain Diego had died! I can’t believe it. Does this mean my son is alive and they weren’t able to kidnap him? Maybe in the chaos they didn’t even realize he was in the car with me.

  “What kid?” The man asks.

  “You have got to be kidding me!” Doctor Frazer seethes. “Do not tell me that we have been camped out here over the last six hours literally just waiting for him to lead the police to us.”

  “I swear it was just her in the limousine. We got rid of the driver and dragged her out. The whole process took maybe 30 seconds.”

  “And our driver?” She asks.

  “Not so good news. He hit that limo pretty damn hard. We couldn’t get him out and it would have taken emergency workers with hydraulic equipment to pry apart the car. No way could we have taken him with us.”

  “I trust you took care of him then?”

  “Yes.”

  “Same as her driver?” Dr. Frazer asks.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m asking if you put a bullet in him, same as the other car’s driver.” The Doctor barks.

  “Ah…no. I removed his wallet and anything else that would make identifying him difficult and we split.”

  “Wait a second. Are you trying to tell me that you imbeciles left him there alive so that they can put him back together at the hospital and flip him? You idiots!” Dr. Frazer rages. “You complete morons! It’ll take all of five minutes and they’ll have everything out of him. I can’t believe they’re not knocking on our door as we speak. Before the nights out they’re going to know everything. I can’t decide if I should just kill you both right now or let King and Boomer have five minutes alone with you.”

  “I’m sorry doc, it was complete chaos out there tonight and we didn’t know what to do when things went sideways. I don’t think he’ll tell the cops anything. He’s a pretty tough guy. He’ll hol-”

  “Just shut up! I don’t need your amateurish take on anything. That guy needs to be taken care of tonight. Somebody needs to get in that hospital and take care of him. Do you know what I mean by taking care of him?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “So you know I don’t mean for you to bring him flowers, chocolates, and a get well soon card then?”

  “Of course I kno-”

  “Don’t you take that tone with me. It should have been obvious what to do tonight after the accident but you screwed that one up so how am I supposed to know you won’t fuck this one up too?”

  “I swear I’ll take care of it.” The man promises.

  “I’d rather bring in someone else to do this but there’s no time. You made the mess so you’ll have to clean it up. Listen to me Eric and listen well. If you fuck this one up don’t even bother coming back. You just stick the barrel of your precious 9mm in your mouth and take care of business. Am I clear?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Now thanks to you I have to go find another place to stash her.”

  Chapter Two

  What Christine Missed

  Back at the Fights…

  The introductions are about to begin. Both fighters stand with their trainers waiting for their names to be called. King immediately starts the trash talking.

  “Scared?” He asks.

  “You must be talking to yourself.” Jake counters. “There’s no way I’d be afraid of you.”

  “Have you seen your scrawny self in the mirror lately?” King asks. “It’s a kinda embarrassing. You look a little weak in the knees too, you sure you’re up for this?”

  “You know how it is when you get laid the night before a big fight.” Jake replies. “Hey if your mamma’s working again after tonight’s fight maybe you can send her to my locker room afterwards. I got a card from her; three for one discount. Thought I’d bring a couple buddies back with me. You don’t mind right?”

  “Hey at least my mamma still got it.” King replies. “One look from your mamma would turn Medusa into stone.”

  “Shut your trap or I might just start the bitch slappin’ before we get into the cage.”

  “Ain’t gonna go that way tonight Jakey. I’m gonna make you my bitch first, then your baby mamma, and maybe even her-”

  With blinding speed Jake fires a straight right punch to King’s nose followed by a quick right elbow as he tucks his fist into his chest and steps in to deliver the deadly powerful elbow to the side of King’s head.

  Immediately both trainers tackle their fighters and all four men hit the tiled floor with a heavy thud. Taking advantage of his position King delivers two quick groin strikes with his left knee in rapid succession. Jake manages to partially block the strikes by drawing his thighs together.

  For a few seconds both fighters try to get at each other with anything they can. Fortunately arena security is quick to join the sprawling melee and is able to put an end to it before anyone is seriously damaged. This time a half a dozen guards position themselves between the men until they’re names are announced. King is first to be called. Jake watches him make his way through the crowd to the stage; the spotlight on him the whole way. He takes a couple laps around the outside of the stage before stepping into his corner in the Octagon.

  Jake is so keyed up that he actually jumps when his name is called. He starts the long job through the crowd feeling the pats on the back and ass as he makes his way to the stage. Words of encouragement ring in his ears. The introductions are over. Adrenaline surges through Jakes body and his heart hammers in his chest. Massive doses of oxygen circulate throughout his muscles anticipating the demand that will be placed on them during the fight. Jamarcus high-fives him as he climbs up onto the stage and into the Octagon. Standing on the other side of the cage is none other than his arch nemesis King of Pain or just King for short. The two fighters are mortal enemies.

  The head official takes to the center of the cage, inviting the fighters to join him as he gives last minute instructions to the nearly rabid combatants. Both men are vibrating with nervous energy. Tonight is going to be an explosive fight from start to finish. The arena is bathed in darkness; all except for the brightly lit stage. Two hot blond ring girls are prancing around the stage holding up gravity defying breasts and signs announcing it to be round one. Both men reach in and tap gloves, waiting for two long and tense seconds before the ref drops his hand to signal the start of the fight.

  As the two men take a couple steps back from each other King is not finished running his mouth. He locks his steely gaze on Jake first to make sure he has the other man’s full attention. Then slips his fingers into the elastic band of his trunks and pulls out a photograph. It’s a tiny picture of Diego and Christine. He holds it up then drops it into his mouth and proceeds to chew it up. That’s more than Jake can handle. Enraged, he takes two giant steps in King’s direction and leaps into the air like a madman. He opens his mouth and roars as he lands on King’s shoulders, straddling the bigger man with his thighs. The momentum of Jake’s onslaught carries King stumbling backwards as he fights to keep on his feet. He grabs at Jakes thighs trying to pull them apart and for an instant considers biting at the man’s groin that’s crushing his face. Jake, with his free hands pummels the top and back of King’s head until the bigger man finally falls backwards ass first with a heavy thud.

  Between the forward momentum and the sudden fall, Jake is pitched off King’s shoulders and he hits the wire cage of the Octagon head first with a bone jarring blow. Fortunately the cage does have a little give
to it or it might have knocked Jake out cold. He grabs the wire mesh of the cage to pull himself up to his feet. He barely gets up on his knees when the right side of his head just explodes in pain as Kings right foot slams into the side of his head. Just feet in front of Jake, the frenzied crowd explodes into screaming mayhem calling for blood as they leap to their feet in front of their heroes.

  For three long five minute rounds the battle in the cage rages on. Every time it looks like one finally has the upper hand and the end of the fight is imminent, the tide turns like a violent tsunami and the battle rages on.

  “Give it up shithead!” King grunts as he seizes Jake in a clinch. “You can’t fight this.”

  As Jake struggles he can feel his energy being sapped slowly by King’s iron grip. It doesn’t matter what Jake does, he can’t break free so he tries one last desperate move. He collapses. King is so surprised at how fast Jake succumbs to the hold that he actually relaxes and allows his opponent to slip from his grasp and fall to the mat. Jake drops to one knee, ready to go the rest of the way down. Then he just launches himself straight up, driving his head right into the bridge of King’s nose as he bends over staring at his defeated opponent. The force of the blow snaps Kings head back violently causing his brain to crash dangerously into the inside of his skull. He is out instantly and collapses face first on the bloody mat. Jake leaps to his feet in triumph! One more time he has destroyed his arch nemesis Randall, King of Pain, King. The crowd erupts in pandemonium! Half the fight fans pissed that King, Oakland’s number one has lost, and the other half rooting for the underdog Jake the Punisher.

  Chapter Three

  The Trials of Christine

  “I’m cold.” Christine croaks.

  I wasn’t going to say anything but after lying here shivering for what seems like forever I just can’t take it any longer.