As he circled backwards, the bald man ducked low and dove at his foot as it was catching his weight. Caught on his heel, Hammer was already falling backwards, and the large man in the camouflage landed rapid blows on his face and torso. My heart thumped loudly in my chest as I watched Hammer put up his hands to cover his head, then bring up a knee to push his opponent slightly off of him.
As the man took another swing at him, Hammer latched onto his arm and pulled it straight, while throwing his free leg up and across the man's face. Lightning-fast, he extended his torso, putting his opponent immediately on the defensive, and in obvious pain, as his frantic movements demonstrated. His opponent grabbed his ankle and was able to duck under it, relieving the tension on his arm; and both men scrambled for an advantage, before breaking away from each other and returning to their feet.
There were no "boos" now. The air was electric. The crowd was on its feet, energized by the flurry of action, mesmerized as Hammer approached his opponent, feinting throwing a punch, only to turn his torso and quickly deliver a kick to the other man's thigh. The slap of the strike could be heard even above the roar of the crowd.
Hammer's opponent immediately recoiled and stumbled backwards as the crowd began chanting his name, encouraging him. It seemed to give him a burst of energy, and he gestured at Hammer to come at him.
The two men circled, staring each other down like animals ready to fight over a kill. One of Hammer's biker friends yelled from the side. "Hey Hammer, kind of looks like Tink's long-lost brother, don't you think?"
I had no idea what their words meant, but it seemed to have an effect on Hammer, and I wasn't sure it was a good one. He just stood there, frozen.
The man in camouflage shorts sensed an opportunity, moving with lightning speed to deliver a knockout punch. I held my breath, silently willing Hammer to move.
And then he did.
In a single fluid movement, he ducked the punch, dropped low, and was in mid-extension with a strike of his own. His opponent's momentum carried him into the oncoming blow, and the impact was tremendous. Striking him squarely in the sternum, Hammer stopped the man's movement immediately, driving him to his knee while the man fought desperately to get a breath of air.
Hammer delivered a knee to the man's face, knocking him to the floor in a shower of blood. My heart pounded as I watched him straddle the man, delivering rapid and vicious blows to his head.
The fighter on the floor lay still, motionless, and I wondered for a moment if he were dead. He was bloody, his face a mass of pulpy purple that I couldn't bear to look at. I felt my heart racing, beating wildly in my chest. My hands were tight, clenched into fists, my nails digging into my palm.
I heard Aston yelling beside me. "Get the fuck up, Law! Jesus Christ, you fucking *!"
Hammer stood up, and three men clad in leather were on him, pulling him out of the cage. Then the announcer spoke. "Your winner - the Inferno's very own Hammer!"
The roar of the crowd was deafening, but it was background noise to me as I watched Hammer exit the cage. I was shaken by what I had just witnessed. Hammer was clearly a rage-fueled animal, but I couldn’t help but wonder, what the hell was a biker doing working some corporate casino job? And fighting on the weekends?
The other fighter finally lay motionless on the ground. A group of men surrounded him and placed him on a stretcher. I was unsure whether his destination was the hospital or the morgue.
Aston was close to me, his grip tight on my arm. "Fucking worthless piece of shit," he yelled, his face close to my ear, but I could barely hear him over the noise in the room. "Just cost me eighty grand."
I didn't want to listen to Aston bitch about his loss of a bet. I didn't want to take my eyes off the biker. "I'm sorry," I murmured to Aston as he gripped my arm tighter. Then, my voice louder: "Who is he?"
"I don't fucking know," Aston said. "But I need to find out. That guy is a fucking beast."
Yes, I thought, he certainly seems like one.
I didn't know what to make of the secret thrill I felt rush through my body at the memory of his touch. Or of what I felt when the biker was led by a couple of guys from his biker club, clad in leather with the club emblem on the back.
A few feet away from me, Hammer looked up, and his eyes met mine.
And time stood still for a moment.
I didn't know what to make of the flush that came to my face, the way my heart leapt when I looked into his eyes.
ATTACHMENT
Whence she who saw me, clearly as myself,
To calm my troubled mind, before I ask'd,
Opened her lips, and gracious thus began.
~ Paradise, by Dante Alighieri, Canto I (Cary's translation)