Bare Knuckled

Chapter Five- Glass Jaw

Zane had seen this ring nearly a million times in the four years he would venture through the front doors that looked directly onto the ring itself. He had been able to watch his best friend and first trainer, Tariq, take down his most famous victories as well as stand in it himself when he was forced to clean the blood from the canvas. However, this had been an entirely different feeling as the company that encased the ring had been there to see blood. Having always trained with a rather extensive amount of padding in either his ‘opponent’-that consisted of a punching bag, or using the air itself, he hadn’t held much beneath his belt in terms of fighting. But this did not mean that he was intimidated by his opponent, he was made weary by the phones recording his every movement, the cheering for everyone but him, and the eyes of the woman he fell hard for looking to him with great pride. Yet, the five rounds of two minutes that awaited him had forced Zane to get first-timer’s nerves, almost as if he had taken a more aggressive form of a stage. 

“How are you feeling?” Butch asked while making his way to the ropes, remaining on the outisde, and checking in on his investment. 

“Ready to fight.”

“Good answer!” He spoke in great approval before looking to the man on the opposite side of the canvas. Zane’s opponent was a man who was also new to the fighting circuit, but wore an expression as if he was planning to kill him. A set of green eyes narrowed in his direction as he then placed in a mouthguard that would protect from any dental damage or lost teeth-at least for the most part. But it had been his spiky red hair that would cause for his nickname of “Firecracker”, a name that also derived from his fighting style-a detail Zane was soon going to learn for himself. The sound of the first round bell alerted everyone within the arena to be prepared for the beginning as Butch looked back to Zane. “Be first.” To others, this may sound as a term of endearment or even a threat to come in ‘first’, but in bare knuckled fighting, it meant to strike first. This had gone on to contradict everything that Tariq had taught him, but again, Tariq wasn’t the one who has as much experience as Butch...even if it wasn’t in the ring. 

Both men moved to the center of the canvas, as instructed by the referee, analyzing each other to try and find physical weak spots before the match had even begun. But all the others had seen was the mass amount of tattoos upon their bodies, giving an indication to the outside eye that they had been used to the pain of a needle, but not necessarily the pain of an angry fist. Within seconds of meeting eye to eye on the mat, the referee had them shake hands before then finding the first bell to sound out upon the entire area. In an eerie change of atmosphere, the once chanting crowd had silenced and the only sounds heard had been that of their feet shuffling upon the mat, dodging the hits from the other opponent. As requested by his form of guidance, Zane went to hit first, his side being exposed for a hit that his opponent had taken in stride, forcing Zane to fall from having the wind knocked out of him. For a moment, he looked up to Butch, seeing him shake his head in disbelief as Candace looked to him with sorrow. Feeling as if that advice wasn’t the most grand, he decided to wait for his rival to throw the next punch, deciding to then go for an uppercut that then knocked him back, forcing the next point to fall to him. 

By now, his opponent was growing increasingly angry at the fact he had let his guard down enough to lose a point to this fighter that he saw as a trial horse. With three points left to declare the winner, it was still close to either of them being tonight’s victor, the crowd began to choose sides to who they believed held more potential. With the majority speaking in Zane’s favor, he began to grow confident with the moves he portrayed and the lack of focus in his opponent-leading for him to strike the next point as well. With the score one opponent and two Zane, the duo led their third round with several devastating blows that caused for blood to begin to form upon their skin. For the rival, it had consisted of his lip, a tear in his skin that began to fall down his chin, and for Zane, it had been just above his eye-making it difficult to see-and yet, he persisted. 

With two points left for grabs, both men knew that they had so much to lose. In the matter of four minutes, one of their lives would begin on a path that the other would have to be forced to endure. The failure of a first fight being lost would never be forgotten by whoever would claim that title. This had been the thought in both of their minds as they looked to each other with dedication as their motive and anger behind their fists from lives they had to endure up until now. 

The fourth round began with the bell, Zane’s opponent having charged at him directly, choosing to target his already wounded eye to force upon him further pain and extend his chances of taking the title offered on this night as victor. But Zane managed to move from the space, instead, using the bob and weave technique, as made famous by Heavyweight Joe Frazier, to evade him achieving a point. However, his opponent sensed this and used the back of his elbow to knock Zane directly into his eye, forcing more blood, before the crowd became mixed with approval and rejection from the illegal move. 

The panel watching forth of the fight explained how since it was an ‘amateur’ fight, how the round would be written from the record and it would be a warning. Butch watched on in disapproval while Candace did so in horror, seeing the blood move from just beside his eye and onto his cheek. Due to this, they still had two rounds to go, one in which allowed Zane’s opponent to get this next point from having the upperhand in lack of a major visual deterrent. This had been the final point, available to whichever fighter seemed to want the prize greater, as this would be shown by their fighting style. But before this round would begin, Zane was looked to by a paramedic nearby who warned him if another hit would be set upon him, that he would risk busting blood vessels in his eye and could even go blind. The thought terrified him, but he knew that if not for himself, he was doing this for Mackenzie. 

Taking his place back in the center of the mat, he prepared for his final chance to redeem himself, to break this tie with a victory. But it wouldn’t be an easy one to obtain. His opponent began to grab him by the back of the neck, using his knuckles to perform uppercuts against Zane, while he crossed his arms in front of his chest to block them from harming his eye. But in that moment that he had been released from the hold as his opponent decided to try a different approach to snatch the victory, he heard the familiar cry of Mackenzie in the crowd, forcing him to become distracted. In a matter of two seconds, his opponent launched a punch so strong that it would knock him to the floor from the moment that he looked back to him, from having just witnessed Paul yank Mackenzie from the arena as she was crying and reaching for her brother. The moment was enough to seal his fate on this night, causing Zane to fall face first onto the mat, staining it with his own blood, while his opponent was deemed the victor. 

When he would awaken, Zane found Butch standing at the foot of the bench he was placed on with Candace at his side. While butch was laughing with the paramedic, Candace looked to him in complete agony, wishing that she could have somehow stopped him from having spent any portion of his life in this lifestyle. However, she knew he held a gift, one that was taken from him by a penalty ignored by a panel that was able to be paid off for looking the other way. He opened his eyes to see the paramedic give him instructions of ‘no fighting for a month’, for enough time for his eye to heal. The pain felt by the wound itself had been minor compared to the collision of his pride against his determination. 

“I suppose I should go congratulate the victor, and consider if I should have you dropped.” Butch spoke in a cruel tone while Candace remained behind-risking the wrath of her husband to be there for Zane. For a moment, she stared upon his eye, finding a broken blood vessel to have stained the entire sclera with crimson. 

“It wasn’t right, they should have ended everything…” She began as she offered him an ice pack left behind by the paramedic for his injury. 

“It doesn’t matter...I don’t have whatever it takes to outlast up there-”

“That’s not true.”

“It was my first fight, ...and I got knocked out cold…” He looked down while she remained to hold the ice pack to his cheek, before he went to take it-having traced her hand in the process. 

“Everyone has their losses...and someone HAD to lose tonight, but do you think if it was him that he would be giving up?”

“I could have lost my eye…”

“And yet you didn’t stop...because you have that indomitable spirit that it takes to exist in this profession. But you should have won...they should have either ended the match entirely or given him a penalty-and instead, they kept him for the show…” She paused before rising from the bench. “And for what it’s worth...you fought with honor...you fought using the rules given, and because of that, to me, you did win.” She spoke before moving from the locker room, his eyes following her until she exited completely. 

“Not everything…”