Caged Love: MMA Contemporary Suspense (Book One) by Liberty Thunderbolt, Zac Robinson Page A

training when he was a kid. He hated it from the start, especially when his old man, Jack “Hammer” Haynes, laughed and thought it was fitting.
    Marshall remembered the night Bear told him the story. “All I wanted was to fight like my pops,” he’d said, “I gave everything I had to do that, but I was cursed with slow feet and hands and ended up with a crappy nickname too. It hurt me deep, especially when he continued to distance himself from me. He treated the better boxers like they were his sons and it tore me up.”
    Bear had about 14 beers in him when he told Marshall the story, and after three big gulps he already had one in him on this night. He sighed then wiped the corner of his mouth. “How’s my two thousand dollar savior been doing?”
    “About thirty years older and thirty pounds heavier than I was back then,” Marshall said.
    “Yeah, 1984 was a long time ago, but I swear I remember that hit like it was yesterday. And then you recovered the fumble...fucking beautiful, Marshall.”
    Bear was talking about a fumble Marshall caused that didn’t even necessarily save the game, but it ensured UNLV beat the point spread. Marshall knew that Bear wasn’t even supposed to be betting on the team because its hometown was Las Vegas, but growing up the son of a prize fighter in the city of sin made a lot of things possible, not all of them good.
    Marshall slid his buddy another cold one and Bear leaned forward to check the marks on the post. “No new tourists in the last couple days?”
    “Nope, just the regulars.”
    Marshall’s Tavern was only a few minutes from Show Vegas, as Marshall liked to call it, but it didn’t see too many tourists. All they had to do was head East on Flamingo past UNLV, past the Desert Springs Hospital, and then under the Las Vegas Expressway until they found South Nellis Boulevard. After a left they just had to get by an old RV Park before arriving at the rundown strip mall that had seen its heyday right along with Marshall in the early 80s. The little bar served as the joint in the L-shaped building. It was flanked by a hardware store on one side and an empty space on the other.
    Tourists had made it to Marshall’s only nine times in all his years. He knew the exact dates because they were etched into the pole that Bear had just gotten done looking at. The man took a much smaller gulp of his second beer. “Why do you still have that clipping up?” he nodded to the yellowed paper next to the tourist dates.
    It was an article about the ’84 season, and Marshall had highlighted his old coach’s words. “We had great kids. Some became doctors, some lawyers, and some police lieutenants.” He also highlighted the part that read, “There are always going to be a few who don’t take advantage of the opportunity you give them.”
    “I don’t know. Reminds me of those days I guess.” He didn’t think Bear would understand that it was really because it reminded him that it could be better and it could be worse. His life in the middle was fine with him.
    “Reminds me that I loved you before I ever knew you thanks to that fumble recovery,” Bear said.
    Marshall smiled and nodded, then wiped a wet spot off the bar.
    The men continued to visit and Bear downed one cold draft after another. The few regulars headed back to reality and before long only the two friends remained. It was straight up three o’clock in the morning when Marshall turned all the televisions to the Canadian Fight Network. They were the only ones showing Courage and Heart Fighting Championships in Seoul, Korea. Luckily for Bear his two thousand dollar savior had a satellite that caught more sports action than just about all the big casino sports books. Marshall enjoyed cagefighting, or as Bear called it, mixed martial arts. But it was Bear who had much more than a passing interest, and as any good bar owner did Marshall catered to his best client.
    “I’m surprised you didn’t fly out to Korea,