Page 29 of Hard Corps (Selected Sinners MC 7)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Spring 2014, Austin, Texas, USA

We went back to the gym to fight in the boxing matches we had signed up for, only to find out Ripp had been arrested and was being detained for murdering a man. The stories around the gym varied, and his best friend, the man who was scheduled to fight for the Heavyweight Championship of the World, Shane Dekkar, shared a little information which I suspected was the only real truth we would hear on the matter.

It was still unclear exactly what prompted it, but someone did something to Ripp’s little sister, and when he went to question the man who did what he did, the man pulled a gun. He reacted the way I probably would have by fighting the man, and somehow, in the fight, broke the man’s neck. Now in jail facing murder, his girlfriend, an attorney, was preparing his defense.

Although I really didn’t know Ripp, I felt compelled to talk to him about the challenges not of going to trial, but of living with the horror of taking another man’s life. There weren’t many people a man could talk to regarding such matters, and I felt I could offer him a little advice, possibly helping him accept what happened as being God’s will, and further allowing him to focus on the upcoming trial.

We proceeded with our fights as scheduled, with me feeling uneasy the entire time, knowing Ripp was being forced to deal with so much emotion. I recalled the first time I killed someone, and how difficult it was to accept it as being what was just, proper, and acceptable in the eyes of God. At the time, I had other Marines to talk to, men who had experienced the same things as I. Ripp had no one, or at least I expected he didn’t. Mentally, as we prepared to begin the fights, I considered staying in Texas for a while, hoping to provide Ripp a little support.

The small gym was crowded with people hoping to catch a glimpse of the local hero, Shane Dekkar. Erik knocked his opponent out in a matter of seconds, but his challenger was some kid with a big mouth and a jaw made of glass. As soon as Erik hit him once, the kid wadded up in a ball like a crab.

My opponent was a local who was about as big as Ripp, and twice as pretty. As the crowd cheered in anticipation of me losing my respective ass against the guy, we stepped to the center of the ring and touched gloves.

An extremely informal match, and really for nothing but fun, I had hopes of not only lasting the entire match against the guy, but giving the crowd one hell of a show. It was my understanding the money was going to a good cause, so I felt giving the crowd a good show would allow them to feel they got more than what they paid for.

As the bell rang, I shuffled to the center of the ring and studied my opponent. An apparent right-hander, or at least fighting right-handed, he was in for a surprise. I was ambidextrous, and could fight southpaw or right-handed. I stepped to him right-handed and waited to see what he had planned.

He swung an immediate right hand directly in front of my face.

I don’t know if that was for show or you intended to land it, but you were off a mile, Big Boy.

I leaned back, and as the punch passed my face, I swung an uppercut that landed against the bottom of his chin. A quick left hand to his ribs was rewarded with a shallow cough of breath from his lungs.

As I mentally prepared a left cross, he leaned into me and tried to hug me.

A three round bout for charity and you’re going to try and dance?

I shoved him off, and as our bodies separated, swung a left jab and a right hook, the first connecting with his lower chest, and the second with his mid-section. His wild punch that followed was countered by my left jab – again landing against his chest.

I thought they said you were a pro? I’m nothing but a retired Marine, let’s see what you’ve got.

I stepped away from him and waved my gloved hands toward my chest, indicating I was ready for a fight and he wasn’t bringing it. The small crowd began to cheer, and I heard Teddy begin to talk shit to my opponent. In an actual boxing match what I chose to do would have been considered extremely disrespectful. In the match we were fighting, it was enough to rile the crowd into a wild cheering session. He clenched his already tight jaw even tighter, and came to me like a madman.

It was just what I was after.

He swung a well-telegraphed uppercut, and I leaned back and let it fly by my face. As he stumbled from the shock of missing the punch completely, I leaned toward him and unleashed a five or six shot combination of punches to his face, connecting all of the punches solid.

The small crowd was in an uproar.

As he again began to stumble rearward, I continued with my advance, pummeling him with a series of punches, each one unanswered.

It was exactly what I needed. I felt alive. Every ounce of my frustrations that had built up over the years was being exerted with each punch. As I leaned forward for what I expected to be the punch to end the fight, the bell rang, signaling the end of the round.

Shit.

I went to the corner for a short breather, and was met by Erik and Teddy.

“Holy shit, A-Train, you’re fuckin’ that dude up somethin’ fierce. This fuckin’ crowd is lovin’ it,” Teddy said.

With a mouthpiece in my mouth and no trainer to remove, it, I simply nodded my head in agreement.

“You’re not even breathing hard,” Erik said with a laugh.

I did my best to grin and shrugged my shoulders.

I ran almost every day, and did strength and weight training on a daily basis. There weren’t many men at any age that were in better physical shape than I was, and I attributed it to my Marine training, and still living the life of a disciplined Marine.