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  The process of getting ready for the fight was the same for him every time. He liked the ritual, from folding his clothes next to his bag to visualizing and zeroing in on what he was about to do.

  Whitey talked him through what the plan was for this opponent as the trainer taped his hands. Then, the small gloves went on and his black mouth guard went in.

  “You’re going to have him out gunned Flynn, he can’t withstand your punches.”

  Craddock nodded. He didn’t talk before a fight. He listened. He channeled. He visualized and stalked the victory.

  “But watch him on the ground, he has more wrestling than you do. That’ll be his play.” Craddock knew this, but it was the ritual. What they did before had to be the same.

  It was his time. He heard G-Man annihilated his undercard bout, but Jessie had a tough time with his guy. He lost, which pissed Whitey off. He heard people talking about The Preacher’s Son.

  “So hot!” One girl’s voice said.

  “So tough, did you see that guillotine?” said another fan. So Zeke had won his too. No surprise.

  The Grand City Convention Center wasn’t a huge arena, but it was decent size and it looked like most seats were filled. As he walked in to the song he picked out by Runrig called “The Engine Room,” the crowd got on their feet.

  “Flynn, Flynn, Flynn.” He was the local boy they rooted for, the damaged one, but the one they recognized. He looked over and saw that Cassidy and Dylan had raised the signs they’d made on poster board.

  “The Fighting Flynn!” read Dylan’s sign. Cassidy’s read “In Like Flynn”.

  He didn’t smile, that wasn’t in the game plan, but it was good to know two people were in really in his corner, not just the crowd that thought they knew him. Winning up to then had been hollow. He didn’t realize how much he wanted someone there until they finally were.

  Indiana’s Ethan Bowers was tough. Craddock had seen the films. He was fast, that was true, too. He’d been a state champion wrestler, but that was okay, so was Craddock.

  He climbed into the cage and that became his world. No crowd, no whispers about other fighters, no nothing intruded. He was ready and in the zone.

  He needed to kick ass and do it quickly. Some fighters thought it was fun to play to the crowd, toy with an opponent, let him up, and take ‘em down. They put on a show, but not Craddock. Every moment was focused on domination, annihilation, and victory. The longer you dicked around, the more opportunity you gave someone to surprise you. Put ‘em away and move up.

  The bell sounded and it was on. He had three five-minute rounds to turn Ethan Bowers into hamburger.

  They circled each other, with Bowers, smartly, trying to stay back. Craddock charged and landed a quick punch to one side of his face and that kept him busy while he kicked him upside the other.

  Just like Whitey said, Bowers was good on the shots and got in a double leg which sent them both crashing to the ground. For most of the five minutes of the first round, the two wrestled on the mat. If you didn’t know what you were looking at, you’d see Bowers on top of him, seemingly in control. But Craddock worked him from underneath. He landed a few kidney shots, he stayed in good position, and he let Bowers get real tired trying to hold him down.

  He could hear the crowd now. Yelling God knows the fuck what? It was Whitey’s voice he needed and Whitey only.

  “Good, keep working the inside. Squeeze.” Craddock had his legs wrapped around Bowers. He was about to try to flip him when he heard Whitey again.

  “You don’t have enough time.” That mean he could work his ass off to reverse positions, but then time would be up. He decided to let the clock go. The buzzer sounded and this time Craddock was done playing.

  He charged Bowers again and openly landed a blow on his cheekbone that immediately started to swell. He punched there again to make sure Bowers was scared. Bowers was realizing Craddock could hit him right there, anytime he wanted.

  Then he shot in. He got a Kimura in deep. There was nothing Bowers could do. Either he tapped out or Craddock would snap his arm off at the shoulder. He applied just a bit more pressure.

  And there it was a tap tap tap on his shoulder. Tap Out! The submission hold ended Ethan Bowers’s dreams of upsetting Craddock Flynn.

  Craddock heard the hometown crowd cheering his victory. They raised his hand and he turned so he could experience the moment with Cassidy and Dylan. He scanned the row and found where they were sitting. His eyes landed on two empty seats.

  Cassidy and Dylan were gone.

  Cassidy

  She didn’t think of Craddock as famous. Sure, he got a lot of well wishes when they went out to dinner, but so far they’d really lived their lives at GWG and at their respective places. It was a little bubble. But everyone in this place knew his name and seeing that through Dylan’s eyes was almost magical. Dylan regaled her with things she had no idea about, but he was apparently an expert on.

  “Yep, after he won the state championship for Michigan at 162, he was WLUV’s Athlete of the Week! That was so neat because it was Chip Powers that came out. They even interviewed me, too!”

  “Oh, I guess I don’t watch enough news.”

  “Then, when he turned professional, he upset Canadian up and comer Jean St. Germaine. That was in the paper, too. I should have brought my scrapbook.”

  “How about next time I come over you show me all the articles?”

  “Okay, good idea. And this will be my new item!”

  Dylan held up the little handout that she’d helped design. It had Craddock Flynn versus Ethan Bowers and Zeke’s match along with the undercards scrolling the front. It was clean and simple. The GWG corporate office had sent her a few logos and they were pleased with her little flyer. Clearly Dylan was, too. He treated it like a precious memento. She didn’t let on that she designed it and ran off like a thousand of them.

  He’d also kept his ticket and Cassidy took pictures for him with her phone every time something caught his eye. Dylan knew way more about fighting then she did, despite all her time in the gym. Dylan helped her figure out what was going on in the undercard matches.

  “Pete Flannigan, he was very bad at Uno, but he’s the best lightweight on this side of the state. He’s like a little animal, he so quick!”

  “He did suck at Uno.”

  “Of course, so did G-Man, but I’d never tell him that. You shouldn’t tell him that. He’s scary. Though I don’t like watching heavies as much. Booooring.”

  “Sort of like two bears, eh?

  “Ha ha. Yes. And I really like Jessie. Too bad he lost.”

  “Yes, too bad, but he still gets to go to the big tournament.”

  “Oh yeah, he will!”

  She watched the joy in his eyes at knowing something she didn’t and she was so glad she convinced Mrs. Flynn to trust her enough to bring him.

  “Dylan would love it. But you know he’s a handful. He’s like a 230 pounds kindergartener.” Mrs. Flynn had told her.

  “I understand. You can trust me, I won’t let anything happen to him.” Cassidy had reassured.

  She hoped Mrs. Flynn liked her. It was a bold move to visit their home without an invite, but she did have Dylan ask if it was okay, so she didn’t catch her completely off guard. When she picked Dylan up to go to the fight it seemed like Mrs. Flynn was happy to see her son go have fun — even if it wasn’t her idea of fun at all.

  “And don’t let him have too many soft drinks!” Mrs. Flynn called after them as she let Dylan go.

  Cassidy hoped bringing his brother to the match would show Craddock how much she cared about him.

  Several fighters from GWG handled the undercard bouts with ease. But each blow scared the crap out of her.

  “They go three rounds, five minutes, and they get scored. If you submit a guy, that means he just can’t take it and they tap out or something breaks!” Dylan excitedly told her.

  G-Man, Jessie, Pete Flannigan, and Darius Brown all fought for GWG. The
y all won except for Jessie. Whitey looked none to please with his grandson, but she suspected there was a soft heart in Whitey’s grizzled exterior and that all would be forgiven, or at least fixed, by the next day.

  “Oh, The Preacher’s Son, he’s almost as good as Craddock, but not quite!” Dylan seemed to be a fan of Zeke’s. He cheered along with the crowd who chanted.

  “Prea – cher!”

  “Prea – cher!”

  When Zeke came out, she could see the appeal. She was used to him in the gym but under the lights he had a star quality. With his blonde hair cropped close to let everyone see his face, he looked like a Marine or Captain America.

  Zeke kneeled in his corner, prayed, she supposed, and then pointed to heaven. Or maybe the rafters? Craddock would say that it was an act, but she never got that impression from Zeke. She’d stayed away from Zeke lately because it caused trouble with Craddock, but she wasn’t immune to the crowd. She clapped and chanted along with Dylan. She rooted for the nice guy in a tough sport — that was Zeke to her.

  Zeke scanned the crowd and somehow found her. He locked eyes, gave her a wink, and pointed to her. What the hell, she thought, she was liked second to heaven? She found herself blushing.

  Dylan leaned over to her. “He thinks you’re pretty I can tell,” he said.

  “What? Pay attention, the fight’s going to start.” She pointed to the ring.

  “Go GWG!” Dylan yelled and did as she suggested, watched the fight.

  Zeke made quick work of his guy. They wound up on the mat right in front of her and Dylan.

  “He’s got the rear naked choke going, Zeke’s got it now!” There was no tap out, but Zeke clearly dominated. Time was up and although Zeke’s opponent didn’t tap out, Zeke won by unanimous decision.

  “He got all three rounds from the judges, so he wins.” Dylan expertly explained.

  “Craddock’s up next, Dylan!” Cassidy watched as Dylan could barely contain himself. He shook his hands up near his face like the joy bubbling out of him taking physical form. To someone else it might look odd, but Cassidy knew Dylan was just overwhelmed with emotion and that’s how some came out.

  “Listen, that’s our song!”

  An Irish song with a thumping beat came on and the crowd turned to see Craddock Flynn enter. They chanted louder than they had for Zeke.

  “Flynn!”

  “Flynn!”

  “Flynn!”

  She saw the light hit his shoulders and remembered her digging her hands into them in his kitchen. She moved her eyes down to take the rest of him in. His defined biceps, brought to mind how easily he lifted her and took her wherever he wanted her to be.

  Her eyes rested on what she thought of as the most devastating aspect of his sex appeal — his abs. To call them a six pack seemed inadequate. What he had was beyond abs. She blushed thinking about what he felt like pressed up against her.

  As her mind returned to the arena, she was shocked by the reaction he was getting from his hometown crowd. While Zeke had cheers and chants, there was a decided uptick in energy when Craddock’s song came on. The men were cheering, but it was the women who were going nuts. She heard a few screams of “I Love you!” and “You’re so hot, Craddock!!”

  At that one, he lifted his head, which had been down as he made his way in, his face in shadow from the lights above. When she saw his face in the light, the jaw, the intense eyes, and his lips, and considered what they did to her, she felt almost indecent.

  He found her in the crowd and it was the hottest thing she could imagine. He didn’t point like Zeke did (please God, let’s hope Craddock never saw that footage, she thought), instead he kissed his gloved hand while looking right at her.

  Holy crap. She felt a hundred beady, jealous female eyes on her. It almost felt like a physical assault. Who was she? Why did two fighters look her way? She tried to shake it off.

  Instead, she focused on Craddock Flynn under the spotlight. The man was rough and wild looking in the ring, unlike Zeke in every way. And he was dangerously sexy. It was quite the combination. She realized that if he did get his shot at the big contract and national exposure, she may not be able to hold on to him. It put a little knife in her heart to think about. The whole world would see him and want him.

  Cassidy shook it off. This was now and she was going to see Craddock do his thing in the ring.

  He was finally unchained. The fury that Whitey worked so hard to channel was unleashed in its natural setting. It was scary and thrilling at the same time. She almost felt sorry for Ethan Bowers of Indiana.

  Cassidy was mesmerized by the action, watching Craddock charge, punish, and stun his opponent. It was enthralling. But then she noticed Dylan.

  “I can’t find it. I can’t find it.” Dylan wasn’t watching the fight, he was crawling around on the floor by their chairs.

  “Dylan, honey, what is it?”

  “I can’t find it.” He had a look of panic in his eyes. Something was terribly wrong.

  “What can’t you find?”

  “My flyer! MMy flyer that I was going to save!” He started yelling now. He was nearly in a full panic mode.

  “I have one, you can have mine.” She tried to communicate with him as the crowd got louder over the fight still raging in the ring above them.

  “I need my own. I need my OWN!!! IT’S FOR MY BOOK!”

  “Dylan, what if we go out front and have the usher give us a new one just for you? Right after Craddock is done fighting.”

  “No. No. NOW!”

  She could see there was no reasoning with him or changing his mind. He needed a brand new flyer right now. He was fixated on it.

  “Okay, now. Let’s go. Take my hand.” He reached up for her hand and she led them through the aisle with a fair amount of people pissed that they were obstructing the view for half a second.

  She’d gotten Dylan to the entrance area with an usher who was sympathetic and looked back at the ring to hear over the speaker, “And the winner by submission! CRADDOCK FLYNN!”

  She was far away now, and she watched as the ref raised his arm. He was sweating and she could see him searching for where they were supposed to be. He was barely paying attention to his own victory. She made a small move forward, but there was no way they could get back down to their seats for him to see them.

  Well, at least she’d handled Dylan and Craddock didn’t have to worry about that. She felt like that was a good contribution, even if she couldn’t hold her own with fight statistics or knowledge. She could take care of Craddock’s brother like he would want.

  She looked over at Dylan, who was jumping up and down and cheering.

  “That’s my baby brother!” Dylan was waving a fresh Craddock Flynn flyer in his hand. The meltdown was over, thank God.

  Cassidy realized that Craddock was a star already, and whether the world knew it or not yet, they would soon enough.

  Craddock

  Backstage, he shook hands with a local news guy, his teammates, and Whitey.

  “Good job! I know Bowers wasn’t nothing, but it’s just good to get you under the lights, get you loose. The MoTown Smack Down won’t be such a cake walk.”

  He was also talking to the other guys. Everyone felt pretty good. But he was off.

  Darious Brown, the welterweight from GWG, had also won tonight. Brown would be headed to Detroit to try to secure his own 21C contract. They finished packing up their gym bags side by side after a decent night.

  “I saw your brother out there with Cassidy. That’s nice that she brought him. She’s a nice girl, but watch out for that Zeke, man. I know you weren’t out there when it happened, but it looked like he dedicated his fight to her.”

  “What?” Craddock was putting two together. Where the fuck was Zeke, was he still in the locker room? He needed to beat the shit out of him and tell him to stay away from his woman.

  “Yeah, just wanted to let you know you gotta keep her close. Girls go for that clean cut type.” Darius ap
parently was an expert on women now.

  Craddock knew very well that girls liked Zeke, just not his girl, not Cassidy. But then again, where was she at the end of the fight? Was she off congratulating fucking Zeke for his win? He needed to get out of this locker room and find her, now.

  “Yeah, I gotta go track her down now. Thanks for the tip Darius.”

  He walked out the side door and the question was answered. Cassidy was waving to a car that was driving off and Dylan was sorting through a bag of stuff.

  Seeing her made him so mad. Who was she waving to? Was it Zeke? Probably.

  “Where the fuck did you go?”

  She whipped her head around at his voice.

  “Craddock, you were so great! Congratulations!”

  He cut her off, “I heard Zeke dedicated his fight to you and then I look out there and you’re gone? How do you think that makes me feel?”

  “Craddock, Dylan and I were watching and then-”

  “And then you ditched me, probably to make sure Zeke knew you were cheering for him.” He indicated to the car that had just driven off.

  “It’s all my fault, it’s all my fault.” And all of a sudden Dylan was headed from zero to sixty meltdown mode.

  Fuck. When Craddock got angry Dylan got anxious.

  “It’s not all your fault.” Cassidy was next to his brother, soothing him, like she knew anything. He was jealous of his brother, of Zeke, of everything. His emotions were all over the place.

  “I did it. I did it!” Craddock had no idea what Dylan thought he did, but he knew one thing. When Dylan got like this, it was full on chaos. He needed to get home in his own environment and calmed down.

  “Great. This little surprise of yours worked out great.” He said out loud, not really to Cassidy, but sort of.

  “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. We were doing fine, right Dylan?” She tried to get through to Dylan but it was a lost cause now. He needed his safe chair, his TV shows, and his house.

  “Let me handle him.” Craddock said. “Dylan, get in.” Craddock had to put his full attention on Dylan when what he wanted to do was grab Cassidy and kiss any thoughts of Zeke effing Powell out of her mind. But when Dylan was like this, it had to be dealt with before anything else.