Beyond The Cage (23 page)

I look up at ‘boss’ and there’s an evil smirk on his lips.

Mikhail is
so
dead.

Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat. – Sun Tzu

“My dear, sweet, baby girl!”

My mother rushes toward me, cheeks tearstained and arms outstretched. She pins me to her, squeezing the life out of me. She holds me at arm’s length and I see fresh tears running down her cheeks. My dad isn’t far behind, and he crushes me to him as soon as Mom lets go of me. He kisses my forehead and expels a sigh of relief.

“My turn,” he whispers.

Chels comes forward, and I’m transferred to her embrace. Between me, my mom, and Chels, it’s one big tear-fest in this room. Damon approaches and wraps his arms around us both.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Jas.”

“Thanks, Damon.”

“C’mon, baby. Sit.” Mom pulls me to the couch and kneels before me.

I don’t even know where we are right now because they didn’t want to risk going back to our hotel and being seen.

Mom looks down at the hospital scrubs I’m wearing, eyes widening. “You’re not hurt? They didn’t…
touch
you, did they?”

I glance over at Cameron and terror creeps into his eyes. I hold his stare as I answer.

“
No
.” I turn back to my mom. “They didn’t. The doctor did a
thorough
examination. They gave me something…had me unconscious most of the time…so I had the doctor make sure.”

A collective sigh of relief fills the room.

“You know,” Jared says, “it was your comment about feeling at home that led us in the right direction. I was trying to track the signal from the call, but I was getting nowhere. Once K.O. realized, we started looking for abandoned warehouses. Not too many of those in the area. That was very smart.”

“Thanks.”

“Why don’t I make you some hot chocolate, sweetie?”

“I really just need a shower, Mom.”

“Okay, after your shower.”

“I brought your stuff. It’s in the bedroom,” Chels states.

“Thanks, Chels.”

As I stand under the shower, I remember the sickening feeling of Dragon Tat’s hands on my skin, his tongue trailing across my breasts. At the time, I was distracted by Cameron, so I guess it didn’t really register. I grab the soap and washcloth, scrubbing my body from head to toe. By the time I’m done, my skin feels raw. I repeat the process with my hair. I think the full gravity of the situation just hit me. Who knows what they would have done to me if Cameron hadn’t shown up when he did? They would have killed me. I notice the rope marks on my wrists and ankles and break down, sliding to the floor and hugging my knees against my chest. I stay that way for I don’t know how long …just trembling and staring into space. It’s only when Cameron sits next to me, fully clothed, that I notice his presence. He pulls me onto his lap and his strong arms envelop me. I lie there, both of us under the stream of the shower, and quietly cry into his shoulder.

“Thank you.” I sit up and look into his eyes. “Thank you for saving me.”

While brushing my tears away with his thumbs, he gazes at me with such care and tenderness. How can he look at me like that? Like I’m the only woman in the world…when, the other night, he was about to…

“You got your clothes all wet.”

I extricate myself from his arms and leave him in the walk-in shower. After toweling down, I brush my teeth and head to the bedroom. He doesn’t emerge until I’m fully dressed. As I put my hair in a loose braid, I sit and watch him move around the room. What am I going to do? One thing I know I
can’t
do is stay with him. He betrayed me.

Once he’s dressed, he extends his hand to me. I place mine in his and he pulls me to my feet. I close my eyes as he tenderly strokes my cheek. Then, his lips are on mine – a soft, gentle caress. My first instinct is to lose myself in him and feast on his lips, but I fight it. I step back and walk past him, back to the living room.

There, I walk into one hell of a pow-wow. Mannie and just about all his trainers are in one corner talking excitedly, while Carl is in another corner on his phone. Even Chels and Damon are in the middle of it.

“Sweetheart! You were in there so long. We were getting a little worried.”

“I’m okay, Mom. I had a minor meltdown in the shower, but I’m fine now.”

“Sit. I’ll get your hot chocolate.”

I curl up next to my father and lay my head on his shoulder. He’s the one man I know I can always trust. He kisses my forehead and wraps his arm around me protectively.

“Honey, the detective is here,” he whispers.

I look up at the man as he walks over to me from the huddle.

“Jasmine…Detective John Victor. I just need to ask you a few questions.”

I nod but don’t move from my dad’s embrace. Detective John Victor…everything about him looks average – average height, average build, average looks. He does, however, have a dark chocolate appeal that many women go for. I would guess he does pretty well with the ladies. As I answer his questions, pieces of the conversation in the huddle drift over to me and I catch the gist of Cameron’s plan. He walks out then, dropping his duffle, en route to his team. I jump up and cut him off before he gets there.

“That’s your plan? What are you
thinking
?” His eyes tell me not to worry. “We all know Mikhail doesn’t play fair. If you give him so much as –”

A hand on my shoulder stops me, and I turn to see Mannie behind me.

“He knows what he’s doing.”

Mannie’s confidence disarms me.
He’s right. Look at everything Cameron just did to save me. But still…

I turn to the detective. “And what do you think of this plan?” I ask.

“Hey, if this works, the bad guy gets what’s coming to him then we swoop in and take him in.” He shrugs.

“Fine.” I turn to face Cameron once more. “But I want to be there.”

He gives me a scolding stare, but I square my shoulders and look him dead in the eye. “You’re not leaving me behind. I want to see the look on his face when you kick his ass.”

***

From where I am, I’ll probably be splashed with sweat and blood. For the first time, it’s not a problem…as long as it’s Mikhail’s. He should suffer for what he tried to do to me. They’re both in the cage, staring each other down. Apparently, the final has different rules, which the ref is explaining. I only know there will be three, five-minute rounds. I pray Mikhail doesn’t make it past the first.

Adjusting the hood of Cameron’s pullover, I keep my face obscured. As far as anyone knows, I’m just his water boy. I scan the arena nervously. It’s a bigger venue, so a bigger crowd. Excitement, anticipation, impatience…the mood is quite varied. They do seem to be leaning in Cameron’s favor, though. When I look back to the cage, they bump fists and step back. Mikhail is looking smug. I can’t wait for Cameron to knock that turtle-looking, sanctimonious, dickhead on his ass.

The bell goes off and I hold my breath, drowning out the chaos of the crowd. Mikhail smirks and circles the cage. Cameron waits in the middle, watching him cautiously. After he makes a full three-sixty turn and they’re face to face again, they just stand there. They stare at each other as if sizing the other one up. The arena is dead quiet. A woman screams, piercing the silence – a loud, shrill sound made out of the inability to contain her excitement. It scares the shit out of me, and the breath I was holding comes out in a rush. As if it was his cue, Mikhail charges. The arena erupts into a frenzy of screams, shouts, blaring horns, and scattered applause.

He throws a punch and Cameron ducks, dodging the blow. They continue like that for a while, Mikhail feeling him out. When the bell sounds again, they return to their corners.

“You ready?” Mannie asks him.

He nods with determination.

“Okay…just like we planned. Don’t give him too much leverage.”

He stares into my eyes as I squirt water into his mouth, and I give him an encouraging smile. The bell goes off again and he stands, rolling his neck. This time when they meet in the center of the cage, Cameron takes a punch to the stomach.

There is a collective “ooh!” from the crowd. Mikhail launches a blow to his face, which he blocks, but he takes another punch to his left side. I cringe as I watch him take another to his right side. Obviously feeling confident, Mikhail kicks Cameron’s feet from under him and he falls to the mat with a thud. Before he can capitalize on that move, Cameron rolls and jumps to his feet. That ‘proud as a peacock’ look is back on Mikhail’s face. He walks purposefully toward Cameron and begins to rain blows all over his body. Cameron keeps his hands up, protecting his face. The crowd expresses their displeasure with a chant of “boo!” around the arena. The bell goes off again. Mikhail preens to the crowd, certain he’s already won.

That’s exactly what they want him to think.

As I stand among his trainers, I resist the urge to stroke his cheek.

“Are you hurt?”

It’s like he didn’t even hear me. His eyes are glued to Mikhail.
Shit’s about to get real.
He pushes us all aside and moves toward Mikhail before the bell rings, stopping just shy of the center of the cage. Even the crowd can sense the change, and everyone rises to their feet. The
ding ding
of the bell draws me closer to the cage.

Intent on finishing with a flair, Mikhail comes out wildly. I watch in complete awe as Cameron changes his stance and blocks every blow, his hands and feet moving in coordination. His movements are swift, sure, and lithe; it looks almost like a dance. Mikhail steps back, confusion etched into his features. The cheers from the crowd are back. He stomps toward Mikhail, pinning him to the cage with powerful blows to his head and stomach. A punch to his left jaw sends blood spewing from his mouth. Cameron steps back, giving Mikhail a chance to collect his bearings. He shakes his head with resolve and stands upright. When he moves forward, Cameron delivers a full roundhouse kick to his head. Before he even falls, Cameron is in the air, delivering another kick to the opposite side of his head. He falls flat on his face and rolls over in agony. The crowd chants, “K.O., K.O.!”

Finally, Mikhail stumbles to his feet, legs wobbling. Cameron pushes him in my direction. With Mikhail’s face pressed against the cage, Cameron grabs his neck, keeping him there. I step closer and look up at Mikhail. That’s when I hear him speak.

“She’s dead, Jackson. Dead!”

His eyes are fucked up but I know he can see me, so I push the hood back and reveal myself to him. His expression of shock and disbelief triggers a smile.
That’s right, motherfucker. It’s me
. I nod to Cameron and he pulls Mikhail back from the cage. With one last brave, albeit stupid attempt, he lunges, taking a kick to the chest that sends him flying into the chain link fence. Before he can fall to the mat, Cameron pins him to the fence, putting all his strength into every punch. He grabs Mikhail’s shoulders and pushes him to the center of the cage. That’s when Cameron really lets him have it. He’s using every punch and kick in his arsenal, including my favorite move. A kick to the side brings Mikhail to a hunched position, barely able to remain standing. Cameron glances at me then back to Mikhail with death in his eyes. From the ginga, he places both palms on the mat, bringing both feet up to deliver a meia lua de compasso dupla square in Mikhail’s face. It sends a couple of teeth flying from his mouth. The crowd is going absolutely insane. Mikhail bounces off the mat then rests in a broken and bloody mess.

The bell goes off and Cameron turns, walking back to his corner. I can’t even hear myself think over the noise in the arena. While the paramedics rush toward Mikhail, Cameron exits the cage and makes his way to me. He scoops me up into his arms and spins me around, flashing that dazzling smile of his. My heart breaks a little more because I know it will never be directed at me again.
One more time. Just one last time…

I wrap my arms around his neck tightly and lean in. I hear the crowd in the background cheering us on but I drown them out, kissing him as if my life depends on it. He feels the difference, too. When I pull back, he searches my eyes for a sign, a clue as to what’s going through my mind. I smile weakly and stroke his cheek.

“They need you.” He sets me on my feet and attempts to take me with him. “No. This is your moment. You go.”

He sighs and enters the cage to collect his award. Jared is distracted so I use the opportunity to seek out Chels.

“Let’s go.”

“Are you okay?” she asks, brows furrowed.

“No.”

She motions to Damon and grabs my hand.

Back at the hotel, I start packing. We were supposed to be here a few more days, but I’ve decided to leave with my parents tomorrow.

“You wanna talk?”

“I just wanna go home, Chels.”

“What about Cameron?”

“He’s got stuff to do. He can’t leave yet.”

It
is
true…but I just don’t want to talk about him right now.

“I’ll go start packing.”