Born of Fire Read online

  “I got a better idea. Why don’t you invite him to a challenge?” Jazz asked, a hint of contempt in his voice.

  “Why, that’s not a bad idea. A fight between the young boy and a champion would certainly draw some interest. The real man and the faggot. I kinda like that. Besides, ain’t you a firefighter? Yeah, I’d love to best a queer fireman. Or should I say woman?” Stash asked as he laughed.

  “Don’t be so negative man. This boy’s a real hero. That would certainly draw some interest,” Jazz said as he closed his locker and untwined tape for his hands. He glanced up and down Caldre’s body, a look of pure lust in his eyes.

  A sick feeling washing over him, Caldre was already fucking tired of these men who were supposed to be on his team. He looked away doing everything he could not to kick the shit out of them. This is exactly why he didn’t announce to anyone he was gay. After all he worked a job in a rough-hewn man’s world.

  “What do you say, boy, or are you too afraid?” Sniffing, Stash jerked off his pants and grabbed a pair of shorts.

  “Awe. I think we got him all weak in the knees,” Jazz snorted as he flicked a towel in Caldre’s direction, catching him on the back of the thigh.

  Wincing, Caldre held his tongue as he glared at Stash, hearing the ugly laughter coming from his lips. His anger was increasing, filling him with almost uncontrollable rage. Caldre noticed Stash hadn’t worn underwear. The man was showing off, nothing else. Every part of him longed to beat the crap out of him. Calm down. Don’t do it. You’re a pro. Rolling his eyes, he turned to face him, purposely wearing a look of boredom. “You know neither you nor I have anything to do with the fight selection. It’s all about winning, which is something I plan on doing.”

  “And you think you can best me?” Stash challenged.

  “Do I think I can challenge you? You bet.” Caldre hesitated briefly, gave him a heated look as he grabbed his crotch, then moved toward the door. He turned around and plastered on the biggest smile he could muster. “Don’t think you pussy boys can handle me.”

  “Oh, fuckin’ Jesus. What a prick!” Jazz hissed and took a step forward.

  Stash slapped Jazz in the stomach, pushing him hard, then grinned. “You really think you can take me, piss ant?”

  “Without a doubt in my mind.” Caldre had a feeling they were going to meet in the ring one way or the other.

  “Interesting. You know what? We’ll see about that,” Stash said as he laughed. “My opinion? All talk and no substance. You’re just like all the rest of the kid fighters. Worthless. Besides, you ain’t a real man.”

  “Why don’t we just beat his ass?” Jazz snarled.

  Caldre took a step forward. “Bring it.”

  “Fuck you!” Stash snapped as he pointed his finger.

  “Break it up, boys. I’m the only one who rules the fights and I refuse to accept your ridiculous behavior. You got a beef with each other, save it.” Sakima swept into the room, his eyes nothing but blackened pools. “I strongly suggest you take your anger to the mat and the upcoming fights. There are literally thousands of people in the audience waiting to see a group of serious fighters, those skilled in showmanship as well as technical skills. This is your time to shine. You fuck this up and trust me, the punishment isn’t something you want to face. Do you understand me?”

  The darkness lacing Sakima’s voice seemed to hover in the room. Caldre turned toward him, surprised at the look on his face. He was livid in a murderous way.

  “I asked you boys a question!” Sakima hissed.

  “Don’t worry. You know what the outcome will be today,” Stash stated, defiance in his voice.

  “Usually I’d say arrogance will help you, but today is about showing off the sport in its entirely. Whether or not you agree with me, today is more about teamwork and like it or not you’re all on the same team.” Sakima glanced from man to man, his eyes narrowing.

  “The pussy started it,” Jazz offered.

  Caldre tilted his head and could almost tell what Sakima was thinking—leave it alone. Exhaling slowly, he clenched his fists but remained quiet.

  “I don’t give a flying fuck who started what. You’re all going to stop the bullshit now. I have way too much riding on tonight. You fuck with me you’re off the roster. Got it?” Sakima folded his arms.

  “Fine.” Jazz slammed the locker door and gave Caldre a crucifying look.

  “When I ask a question. I expect an answer.” Sakima’s voice was barely a whisper, but the tone was powerful and very threatening.

  Stash’s expression ice, he glared at Caldre. “Yeah, I got it.”

  “You?” Sakima asked, the question directed toward Caldre.

  “Yeah. I do.” A continued trickle of pure hatred raced down Caldre’s spine.

  “No hot dogging today. Go by the book. We all have a lot riding on this.” Sakima looked back and forth between them for a full minute. “You’re all going to win tonight.”

  As Sakima turned and Stash snickered, Caldre was surprised when Sakima merely tipped his head and locked eyes with Caldre. But there was no doubting what Sakima was telling him by the angry look remaining on his face. Caldre was going to fight Stash. And he was required to win.

  Bam! Pop! Boom!

  “Oh!” The crowd roared as the two men squared off.

  Blood oozed from Caldre’s mouth and he swayed back and forth, his eyes shimmering in the bright light.

  “Fuck.” Sakima could tell Caldre was faltering. He glanced into the crowd, shocked there was a sea of people cheering as well as jeering the fighters. The turn-out was much more than he’d anticipated. This show meant more than just support for the sport itself. The night also meant the announcement of the new facility and he had his share of supporters as well as those longing to take him down in the crowd. Everyone was out for blood tonight. The match and the night were more important to him than he wanted anyone to realize.

  Over the last few days he’d agonized over what had happened with Caldre. Losing control had been merely a taste of what might come. He’d lived far too long as a human to give up everything for anyone, even a man who he realized was supposed to be in his life. He’d been able to push back this ridiculous curse for almost a century. No one was going to take anything away from him. Period.

  Now the bullshit with Stash was interesting. Perhaps a fight between them was inevitable, unavoidable. Then again, maybe that was a good idea. Stash needed to get his ass kicked on several levels and Caldre was the man who could do it.

  “Kill him!”

  “Beat him down!”

  The ravaging calls dragged Sakima’s attention back to the match. He’d calculated a move by placing Caldre in an advanced event, but he not only wanted the night to be spectacular and see what Caldre could do, he needed a rising star. The press would have a field day if his stable faltered and he was making such a huge announcement. The investors would push back, yanking the project. They were already squirrely given what William had been telling both his Board of Directors as well as leaking information to the newspapers. He knew this night could make or break everything he’d been trying to accomplish.

  “Come on, Caldre. You can do this.” Sakima’s words were said under his breath, yet Caldre captured every word given their growing connection.

  Caldre hunkered down, resuming the fighter’s stance he’d been trained to take, offensive instead of defensive. The look on his face even changed, no longer enraged and unruly. He was calm and focused.

  Bam! Whoosh!

  “That’s it. Yes!” Sakima thrust his fist into the air as Caldre grabbed his opponent around the neck, dragging him to the ground. He inched forward and was almost shocked at the level of power and brawn Caldre was emitting. He could hear the blood pumping through his fighter’s veins, a direct correlation given their recent intimacy. Stash was hovering, studying every move, his raw emotions vile and filled with hatred.

  “Fuck!” Caldre hissed.

  “Argh!” Caldre’s opponent
screamed.

  Caldre roared as he twisted the man around the mat several times, jazzing the crowd. Using a wrestling technique, he stomped down on his opponent’s shoulder and jerked the man’s arm.

  “Careful, Caldre. Careful.” As Caldre fell on top, taking the submission hold to a heightened level, he could hear the tendons stretching even from where he stood. “Caldre!” My God, his fighter was going to rip the man’s arm off. He rushed toward the stage just as the other fighter managed to give the sign he’d had enough. For a few seconds, he wasn’t certain Caldre was going to let him go.

  Grunting, Caldre gave his opponent a harsh glare, kept the hold until two officials entered the ring, then jerked to a halt, throwing his arms into the air. “Yes!”

  The crowd went wild, several dozen people from the floor seats rushing the stage. Dropping his head, Sakima placed his hands on his hips and growled as the flash bulbs started to go off. A new star was born all right. Sakima just wasn’t certain how the aggressive fight would be taken. Caldre had come as close to breaking the rules as any fighter of the night. He breathed a sigh of relief as Caldre stepped away.

  “Your new boy, I see. Interesting choice. I knew you’d find someone else to try and take you into the future. Perhaps a touch of salvation?”

  Sakima inhaled as William gave him a sly grin. William was obviously here for the announcement, but he suspected the real reason would remain hidden for now. “If you mean Caldre Parker then yes, he called me.”

  “Of course. Well from the raw talent and the level of violence he seems to enjoy showcasing, I’m certain he’s a perfect match for you. Tell me, have you shown him your true colors yet or are you going to allow him to find out how damaging your methods can be to him up close and personal? Have you told him about the fighter who died by your hands?”

  My God, the man was going to use the death of the poor kid against him. The reality was so much more than what had been reported in the press. The horrifying truth was someone, either man or beast, had ripped out the kid’s internal organs, leaving him near the sports facility they used to use. The worse part had been the kid was bloodless. “The brutality of my fighter’s murder was terrible, William. What are you getting at?”

  “I think you very well know. My guess is, if your boy doesn’t heed to your kinky demands, he’ll be left much the same way.”

  The bait was pitched, the water full of blood and the sharks swimming swiftly. Sakima had found out enough from his sources to know that William was hanging on by a thread. His wife had left him, his house was being foreclosed on and his partners had all but bailed. His gut told him the man was working with an entity to bring down the deal already signed on the dotted line. The only possible way was to incriminate Sakima for illegal activities. “William, I suggest you enjoy the games. I have my fighters to talk with.” Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Caldre approached, a curious look on his face.

  “The prodigal son or perhaps something else?” William asked as he laughed and turned with his hand out. “You, son, are quite the fighter.”

  “Thank you. I’m getting better,” Caldre said as he shook his hand. “And you are?”

  “I apologize for my manners. William Forester. I’m a friend of what I guess is your new coach?”

  Caldre glanced toward Sakima as he shook William’s hand. “We’ve made a business arrangement.”

  Sakima could see recognition in Caldre’s eyes. Did he have some connection with William? “The fight went well. I’m happy to say you’ll be fighting in Saturday’s rounds. If you win two of the three heats you’ll go onto the National Championships.”

  “Excellent,” Caldre said as he studied the visitor.

  “Fascinating. Won’t he be forced to face your other fighter, the one who is destined to become the champion?” William chirped. “Or are you too worried about the match up?”

  “I’ll fight him and have no qualms about kicking his ass.” Caldre stood his ground

  Suddenly the press appeared and in the barrage of questions, Sakima had no doubt this very moment had been set up by William to catch on film. But why? As the reporters got in his face and blanketed around Caldre, he could also tell how uncomfortable Caldre was, his mind racing. The young man was smart enough to see a set up. Sakima had a very bad feeling about this.

  “You’re Caldre Parker. Aren’t you a firefighter with the Cleveland Fire Department?” The reporter was female and obviously very interested.

  “I… yes, I am,” Caldre’s voice was hushed.

  Sakima moved beside Caldre, keeping a watchful eye on William.

  “And you’re now with the Mato team?” the reporter asked, getting closer.

  The cameras were rolling and Sakima sensed Stash moving closer. The man was an attention pig. “I’m happy to say that Caldre Parker has indeed signed with my team. We’ve been training for a few days and he’s advanced to the next level. Just watch where this man can go.” Patting Caldre on the back, he smiled brightly for the camera. The touch was enough to calm Caldre down and infuriate Stash, who took another step closer.

  “Is there any truth to a rivalry between Stash and Caldre, a possible fight between them?” A second reporter stepped in, crowding the space as members of the audience seemed to sense something sensational going on. At least a couple dozen people drew closer.

  “He’s not in my league.” Stash kept his voice even as he walked into the frame of the camera, a spiteful look on his face.

  Sakima knew this was both excellent press and a challenge he couldn’t avoid. “I wouldn’t say that. Caldre needs training, but his raw aggressiveness and eagerness, as well as his heightened level of intelligence is certainly already helping him become a winner.” The murmurs were enough to tell him the line in the sand had just widened.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me?” Stash snarled.

  Caldre took a step toward him.

  Sakima inched between them, giving them both a harsh look.

  “Are you announcing a match between what some believe to be the best fighter in the sport against the newest fighter on your team?” she breathed out as she moved closer to Caldre. She pushed the microphone barely an inch from the fighter’s mouth.

  As Caldre started to retort, Sakima inched closer to the female reporter, drinking in the moment as Stash seethed behind him. “I’m saying exactly that. Saturday night. Mark your calendars and the best man will win.”

  Chapter 5

  Caldre was already ten minutes late. The night had brought him both accolades as well as anger from Stash’s supporters. This fight with the award-winning fighter and himself as the challenger was going to be brutal. He had to admit he was eager as hell to battle the man. The bullshit he’d heard from Stash had remained with him all night. Sleep never came and now he was exhausted. He slammed his truck door and glared at the sun as he hoofed it toward the firehouse. As he moved inside he kept his head down, walking quickly to his locker to dump his things. There was no one around, which meant they were all in the squad room for the usual Friday meeting. The Captain was going to chew his ass, if not worse.

  With apprehension, he eased into the main room, hearing both his Captain’s voice as well as at least two others he couldn’t recognize. The closer he came to the room the more his blood chilled. Caldre eased around the corner and blinked as he noticed the entire squad of men and women huddled together. There was no mistaking what the other sound was—a television set. Exhaling, he walked into the room, his eyes darting back and forth across his fellow firefighters. He knew his secret had been about to be blown the night before. He swallowed hard and slipped his hands into his pockets before closing the distance.

  Draper noticed him first, the shit eating grin seeming to be plastered on his face. Laughter and a combination of gasps floated above the entire group. Draper tilted his head, standing at his full height, his eyes locking on Caldre.

  “Oh shit! Look at him fight!”

  “My God. He’s killing that
guy.”

  Caldre darted a glance at the television set, his nerves on edge. Ah shit. They were showing the fight. He grimaced as he scrutinized his moves, not only curious as to how he looked on television, but also criticizing his performance.

  “Fuckin’ A. Never knew the boy had it in him!”

  Taking another step forward, he nodded to Draper, who remained quiet. The next person to notice him was his Captain. His face remained stoic. Caldre stopped short, his nerves on edge as he waited to see what the Captain would do. Captain Wilson was a take charge, no shit kind of man and as the grin became a frown, Caldre was certain this wasn’t going to bode well for his career.

  “Well, well. Gentlemen, we’re lucky enough to have the fighter known as Blaze in our midst and if the reporters are on the money, many say the next champion in the sport of mixed martial arts.” Captain Wilson walked toward him, his eyes never leaving Caldre.

  Blaze? Where in the hell had that come from? Caldre swallowed hard and stole a glance at the television once again, the bulletin at the bottom of the screen listing ‘Blaze’ in vibrant red. Clenching his fists, he couldn’t believe the entire room was dead quiet. He took a step forward, awaiting punishment more than anything.

  Captain Wilson stopped a foot in front of Caldre, tipped his head and snapped his hands together, clapping. “Well done, son. Well done and we’re very proud of you.”

  Draper nodded and gave Caldre a salute before joining the Captain in his applause. “Who knew, man? You are damn good! Awesome dude. Just freaking awesome.”

  “Yeah, you rock!”

  “Way to go.”

  “Awesome moves.”

  “You sure as shit kicked his ass!”

  One after the other the firefighters stood, their clapping drowning out the sounds on the television. The harder they applauded, the more apprehensive Caldre became, heat rising in his face. He wasn’t used to adoration in any degree and for these men, his peers and friends to accept this was amazing. He took a step forward, unsure of what to say.