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“And in the blue corner,weighing one hundred and seventy four pounds, Carter ‘The Outlaw’ Pierce,” the announcer screams through the microphone.
Sitting in the front row of one of the most popular fights in Cage Fighting League history, I have tears in my eyes as Carter walks out with his previous belt win resting on one shoulder, and my husband walks next to him along with the rest of the Ringer’s Den team.
Carter’s mom Phoebe sits next to me, and we both have tears in our eyes as we watch her son in awe. She holds my hand in a death grip as we watch Carter climb into the ring. Ringer follows behind him, hyping him up, encouraging him, and giving him last minute tips as only a coach can do. Ten years later and I still don’t understand half of the shit they talk about.
When Carter turned 21, he entered his first fight. By the time he hit the CFL at 25, two years ago, he was 16-0. He hasn’t lost a fight yet, but every single time I watch him fight, I am sick to my stomach.
We’re back in Vegas for the fight tonight. The whole drive over here yesterday, I thought I was going to have to pull over and vomit from nerves.
I’ve known the kid for ten years, and you’d think he was my own kid, not a man that’s only six years younger than me.
Sparrow sits to my right, and she, too, looks like she’s going to vomit. Carter turns to face us and lifts his chin at me and his mom, but when his eyes land on Sparrow, they darken. He smirks around his mouthguard before he turns back to focus on Ringer.
“I’m going to puke,” Sparrow says, running a hand over her little baby bump.
“He’s going to do just fine, Spar.”
“Tell that to my nerves.”
“It’s being back here that makes you queasy, not the fight.”
Running her hand along her silk dress and holding a reassuring hand at her belly, she nods. “I think you’re right.”
Phoebe reaches around me and squeezes Sparrow’s shoulder. “Our boy will be just fine, you just watch.”
Sparrow smiles nervously at her mother-in-law and squeezes my other hand as we wait for the fight to start.
As soon as the first bell rings, Carter is light on his feet, bouncing around his opponent. Throwing a few punches at him, he connects a few, and his opponent, Johnny ‘The Rocket’ Spiers, rocks back on his heels.
By the end of the first round, my nails are already bitten to shit. I’ve pulled at least twenty hairs from my scalp, and my stomach ulcers are screaming at me to take some Pepto. But I don’t pull my eyes away from the ring.
Ringer holds ice bags to Carter’s chest and the back of his neck as he spouts more things in his face while Carter nods and sucks in lungfuls of air.
The second round goes much like the first, only much bloodier.
Carter has a visible gash at his right eyebrow that is pouring blood down the side of his face and the beginnings of gnarly bruising on his ribs. The Rocket has similar bruises peppering his body too.
The third round is where things get interesting. Johnny has Carter pinned against the cage as he rains blow after blow down on him, but Carter doesn't give up. He throws hit after hit whenever he can and fights his damndest. It happens in the blink of an eye, but Carter squeezes free and turns it around on Johnny, regaining the upper hand. Bouncing back on his feet, you can see in his face how exhausted he is, but he doesn’t give up. Johnny takes one wrong step forward, and Carter reaches out at the perfect moment, plowing a right hook right on the edge of his jaw, causing Johnny to immediately crumple to the floor.
“And the winner by total knockout, Carter ‘The Outlaw’ Pierce!” The beautiful words echo across the stadium, and I can barely focus on the ring through the sound of Phoebe, Sparrow, and I screaming.
He did it!
Our boy did it again!
He is the first and only man to ever make it to 23 wins undefeated in the CFL.
Tears stream down our cheeks, and as soon as my eyes lock on my husband, I can see the tears tracking down his cheeks too.
Goddamn softy.
The minutes feel like hours by the time Ringer gets us to bring us in the ring to celebrate with Carter.
His arms immediately lock around Sparrow, lifting her up and spinning her in circles before kissing her face. Blood and all, they’re too excited to care how gross it actually is.
Behind us, the entire Desert Outlaw family cheers at the edge of the cage as one of our own members just set a world record.
Ringer wraps me in his arms and kisses my cheek before pressing his forehead to mine. “I love you,” I shout above the cheers and celebration.
“Better than the dream?”
“Way better, Emmett. What about you?”
Looking around at the huge stadium where a kid from the wrong side of the tracks that he has gotten to coach for the last ten years just made history and where the entire family is cheering, his chest hiccups, and another tear makes its way down his cheek before landing in his blonde beard. “So much fucking more than I ever wanted.”
“I love you, big guy.”
“I love you too, Princess.”
The end.
