In The Cage (5 page)

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Boomer.”

“Really bitch? Is this how you wanna play it? Lemme tell you a truth here. I know where you’re staying. I know how to get to you and I know how to hurt you. But you…you know nothing about me. You don’t know where I live and you don’t know how to hurt me. You watch your back and you keep checkin’ that rearview mirror ‘cause I’m gonna be right behind you. I know you did something to King and I’m gonna find out and then you’re gonna have the cops and me lookin’ for you and that poor kid of yours is gonna grow up in foster care;
if
he survives that is.”

“Don’t you threaten my son.” I scream into the phone. You fucking creep!  Stay the hell away from us you hear or you’ll wind up just like King.”

I hang up the phone and throw it on the ground at my feet. I hear an involuntary gasp beside me. There are three ladies with frozen looks on their faces.

“He was harassing my little boy. Was making threats and shit, if you must know.”

“Ain’t my business.” Says the woman closest to me.

Nevertheless I get up and move to the other side of the small park and playground. I sit down and look back towards the women that were sitting next to me. They’re chatting amongst themselves about something or other. Then one says something and the others laugh while looking in my direction. It’s time to find another park to play in.

Chapter Five

Jake

The Next Morning…

The day is Thursday, and tonight is Jake’s next fight. The fight is an unsanctioned one against some other guys that don’t have sponsorship either. Supposedly this will help him get noticed and maybe even get representation however doubtful that may be. Rumor has it that agents from some of the top organizations like Crossfire and Surge and Cold Steel will be in the audience. I knew about these underground fights from my time with King but he had always been with one company or another and didn’t need to participate in these blood sports. I seriously need to clear my head. I’ve been a fog ever since Diego woke me up at seven this morning.

It’s eight now and Diego is watching the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles on Nick Tunes so I decide to go for a run. I don’t know how long it’s been since I last exercised so I’m feeling pretty restless. I change into a pair of long formfitting pants and a white sports bra. I throw a light tee on top just in case it starts to rain again and I’m out the door at 8:15.

I start off at a fairly slow pace just to get warmed up. Once I really feel the blood beginning to circulate I take off! My goal this morning is to completely exhaust myself. Given my current state of health and wellbeing that shouldn’t be difficult. But before I can even get a sweat going my burner phone starts ringing. Without breaking stride I dig it out of my waistband and answer.

“What?”

“You really think that’s a good idea bitch?”

“What?” I pant.

“Leaving your kid unattended while you go out running.”

I gasp involuntarily. “What? What…makes you…think…he’s alone?”

“Well…unless you got a ghost watching him I say he’s alone ‘cause I sure don’t see anyone around him.”

“You… stay away…from…my son you…asshole!” I scream in between gasps for breath.

“Or what bitch? What’re you gonna do, kill me? Is that what you did to King? That what you did to your boy’s father. Tell me, does Diego know he had an older brother? Does he know that you probably killed his daddy? Maybe it was you that killed Ethan. Ever think about that bitch? You gonna tell him this stuff or shall I? Seems to me a boy should be raised by his mother
and
his father. Wouldn’t you agree to that Christine?”

“His father…was a…crazy…drug addict. He…has no…rights here. So stay the fuck away…from us.”

Soon as I started talking with Boomer I turned around and started running back towards the hotel. I should be there in five more minutes.

“King was a celebrated fighter…is a celebrated fighter and has every right to be with his son and I’m going to see to it that that happens lady. A real shitstorm is comin’ your way bitch so beware. Your little family’s days are numbered! He finishes and disconnects the call.

I scream and make like I’m going to smash the phone on the pavement but decide I need to keep in contact with the creep so I know what’s going down. He’s watching my son right now and he may even be in the hotel room hiding. I dig out my other phone. I need to call Jake. I don’t think I can handle Boomer on my own.

After about a dozen rings Jake’s phone goes into voicemail. So I try again…and again. Finally on the fourth time he picks up.

“What’s wrong?” He blurts out.

“My son…I think…I know… he’s in trouble.”

“Where’s he at? Where are you?”

“Jogging…mile away.”

“He at the hotel? Holiday Inn right.”

“Waterfront… Holiday Inn… room 423.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Now go to your son.”

And just like that he hangs up. I put my phone away and go into an all-out sprint. I get about two hundred yards when my toe catches on a rough patch on the roadway and I go flying. I manage to break my fall and keep my head from hitting the pavement but the heels of my hands are gonna pay for that move. I roll over on my side for a moment in a fetal position holding my burning hands to my body. I gasp and grimace for a moment before gritting my teeth against the pain and force myself to stand. I take a deep breath and lurch into a run, then an all- out sprint again, this time watching where I put my feet down with each step.

As I continue to run I realize I should have told Jake to call me when he got there. Then again, I should be there first. Why the hell did I even call him? Maybe he’ll be picking my dead body off the floor if Boomer is still there. Hopefully he was making empty threats and maybe he’s not really there with Diego.

When I finally get to the hotel lobby I go charging in and reach the elevator bank just before the door to one of them closes. I lunge in, gasping as I punch the fourth floor button. Then I finally pause and look down. There are six pairs of bright little eyes wide-eyed and staring. Six little girls in princess gowns and magical wands look up at me, their mouths forming little OH’s of surprise. Looks like I burst into a princess party in the making. I do my best to smile and look a little less desperate as the three mothers that are with them corral them into a corner as far from me as they can get them. I don’t blame them; I probably look completely nuts by now. The door opens to the third floor first so I shrink back against the wall to give the girls space to get by without touching me.

“Was that lady a crazy person?” One little girl asks as the doors shut.

I didn’t catch the reply. The doors finally open on the fourth floor and as I lunge out I catch sight of the doors to the stairs shutting. I see the back of a huge man as he disappears from view and I’m almost certain I saw the graphic sunburst on the back of his bald head. Boomer had a tattoo like that! For an instant I turn to follow him down the stairs but stop myself. He was alone. That means my son, dead or alive will be in the room. With a horrible sinking feeling I charge down the hall to room 423 and swipe my card key. As the door clicks open I rearrange my face so that I look at least halfway sane just in case my son
is
fine and just watching TV and waiting for his mom to return.

“Sweetie I’m home.” I call out.

I can hear the TV still on. I hold my breath waiting for a response. Terrified, I walk into the living room and there Diego sits watching SpongeBob Square Pants. He’s alive, breathing, and laughing; all is well. I walk over and take a seat next to him and put my arm around his shoulders.

“You’re sweaty mom.” He says, and then returns his attention to the TV. I just sit here watching with him and say a silent prayer of thanks for his safety. Of course Boomer wouldn’t have come in here to harm my son. He’s an MMA fighter with the best organization on the West Coast. No way he’ll jeopardize that. Suddenly I notice a piece of paper sitting on the table at the end of the couch.

“What’s that?” I ask him.

“It’s a crayon drawing.” He says.

“Oh wow, I’m so glad you started drawing again. I didn’t realize you brought your crayons.”

“Huh?” He asks, not really paying attention to anything but Sponge Bob.

I pick up the piece of paper and turn it over. I scream! I can’t help it. Before I could stop it the sound was just torn out of my chest. I drop the paper and clamp my hands over my mouth in a vain effort to stop another outburst. Diego looks at me in alarm.

“Who drew this?” I ask.

I know it wasn’t him. No kid could draw like this.

“I don’t know mom. Someone just knocked on the door but I didn’t open it, just like you taught me. He just said he had something for you and asked me to get it. He slid it under the door. It’s a creepy picture isn’t it mom?”

Gingerly I pick it up again with trembling fingers to look at it. It’s a damn good drawing of me standing in a room looking up at what I can only assume is Diego hanging from the light fixture by a rope. I wad up the paper and hurl it across the room, then grab my son and hold him tight. Relax mom it’s okay. That was just some crazy dude. Don’t worry about it. I would never let anyone in here.”

“Don’t let anyone in, not even Jake unless I’m here. You got that?”

“Why not Jake? I thought you liked him.”

“I do honey, but anyone could stand at the door and try to sound like him to get you to open the door. Just don’t take any chances sweetie.”

“Alright mom. Now can I watch TV or do we have to talk some more?”

I’m just about to answer him when there’s a knocking on our door. I just about jump through the roof before remembering I asked Jake to come over. I get up and go to the door. Looking through the peephole is Jake standing there looking grim and holding a baseball bat. I open the door and step aside.

“He okay?” He asks immediately.

“Jake!” Diego shouts running up to give him a hug.

Jake catches him under the arms as he runs up and easily tosses my son up into the air before easily catching him and giving Diego a warm hug. He sets Diego down.

“I guess things are fine.” Jake says, and then gives me a long hug.

As he embraces me I can feel the waterworks coming on. When he finally lets me go he wipes the corner of my eyes with his thumb. He looks into my face with such compassion and caring that I cry even harder. Jake gathers me up in his arms and carries me the sofa where Diego has returned to watch cartoons. Jake sits down with me half in his lap and holds me close while I fight off the tears. After a few more minutes of Jakes expert attention I finally get myself back under control, grateful to have a man like him in my life.

“What’s that?” Jake asks, pointing to the wadded up paper in the middle of the floor.

“Take a look for yourself. I don’t want to look at it again.”

Curious Jake retrieves the paper and unfolds it and spreads it out on the coffee table. His eyes bug out.

“Wow!” He says after he has a chance to take it all in. “I’m going to assume the little man here could not have drawn that; so who did?”

“Boomer.”

“What? Why would he go and do a thing like that?”

“He thinks I have something to do with his best friend’s disappearance.”

“His best friend…who would that be?”

“My ex-husband, King of Pain.”

“Sheeeit!” He exclaims. King is your ex?”

“Well yeah…I thought I told you that.”

“No…I think I’d remember that. I heard he disappeared. You didn’t have anything to do with that right?”

“Of course not.”

“But how do you know Boomer did this? How’d the kid end up with it?”

“When I called you and asked you to check on Diego I had just finished talking to him and he made threats about Diego and he knew my son was alone and I was out jogging. He was watching him from somewhere. Then he knocks on the door here and slips the paper under the door. He told Diego it was for his mommy.”

“Wow…it’s a good thing he didn’t open the door then.”

“He’d never do that. I taught him never to answer the door and never let anyone know he’s alone if he ever answers the phone while I’m out.”

“Do you want to call the police about this?” Jake asks.

“Yeah I want to but… but I can’t.” Then seeing his expression. “It’s complicated.”

“What’s complicated? This is a clear threat Christine. It can’t be any clearer than this.”

“I can’t prove it was Boomer.”

“But it’s a clear threat and you can tell them your history with the man and your ex-husband. At least it creates a paper trail and that can be useful if something really happens later.”

“I still can’t.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Boomer will claim I am stalking him and King. He’ll claim I followed them to California after they began getting famous for fighting with Surge. They’ll make a case that I am after them for revenge for them stealing money from me a long time ago. Maybe they think I’m here to extort money or do worse and I can’t prove I’m not stalking them.”

“Wait a second. Don’t they have to prove you’re guilty of these things not the other way around? It is innocent until proven guilty.”

“There are things about the last two months that I cannot explain. If they drug test me they’ll find the presence of marijuana, possibly narcotics, and who knows what I was given in the Carburetor a few nights ago. If they ask why I suddenly took my kid out of school and left Oregon only to end up in Oakland where Boomer and King live I don’t have a good explanation. I have lost almost two months of my memory. I
look
very guilty Jake. There has to be another way to deal with this that protects both my son and me but I don’t know it.”

“Well if there is anything at all I can do, I’m here for you. I got your back babe.”

“Thanks. But now you should probably go so you can get ready for your big fight tonight right?”

“Yeah I kinda need to get with Jamarcus and do some last minute preparations. But here I’ve been meaning to give you this.”

He pulls out a lanyard out of his jacket. On the end is an all access backstage pass. “You can watch the fights from my corner with my trainer Jamarcus. It’s the closest you can get without actually being in the cage. Enjoy.”

Jake says goodbye to Diego then I walk him to the door.

“You’re really good with kids.”

“Never thought I would be, but Diego makes it easy to be good with kids. He’s quite a little man Christine. Must be nice having a son like that.”