His name was Tank; at least that is what he was known as. Maybe years ago he was a Tank, a physical specimen of sheer brutality. But now he was older, and carried around a good 20 years of beer drinking around his midsection. He was the champion. He was the one the up and comers came to, and one by one they just were not able to take away his belt. But this time was different; Erik was the new breed of fighter. The kind who didn’t do it as a weekend hobby, who wasn’t here just because he was told he was the toughest person ever by his circle of friends. He was here because this was his life. He lived and breathed for it, this was all he knew. And this night in this cage they were isolated like an island out at sea. The bright lights like little suns shining down making only their island visible. It was just Erik and Tank.

And at this moment Erik had Tank pinned up against the cage. Tank’s legs wrapped up between Erik’s. Erik had him pressed up against the cage in such a way that Tank was half way turned on his side, his back against the cold metal. Tank tried to wiggle free, but he was worn out and beaten. With every movement Tank made to attempt to free himself, Erik moved to counter it. And as soon as he had his opening Erik went in for the kill. It started off with short punches with his left, coming in at an angle. They didn’t do the damage, but they got Tank to open up more, and with that opening Erik started to rain down blows with his right. The first didn’t land flush, but with the second Erik could feel Tank’s orbital bone crack. Tank’s blood splattered on Erik’s fist and forearm, the spit and blood flying out of Tank’s mouth and spilling on the canvas soaking it. Erik’s breathing became heavier and heavier at the sight of Tank helpless beneath him. The smell of blood and sweat filling his senses made something click inside him. Tank was helpless beneath Erik and as he rained down his fists, he could hear his father in the back of his mind, his father taunting him, telling him he isn’t a man, telling him he will never be a man. His father’s voice in his mind only made Erik surge with more aggression, more violence. Is this what his father wanted to teach him what a real man is? Someone who asserts their dominance, and shows no mercy? He could have stopped here, Tank was finished, but he wasn’t out so Erik proceeded to rain down damage. He counted in his head; one, two, three, each blow driving Tank’s head down making it bounce off the canvas, four, five, and before he could get to six the referee pulled him off. Erik didn’t realize that Tank was knocked out cold with the third hit. For a second he felt bad for Tank, but that all went away when he told himself how if the tables were turned Tank would have done the same thing. For years Tank was the man, for years he hasn’t lost, and not once has he ever been knocked out or manhandled like that by anyone. And Erik did it all with his hands.

Erik ran to his corner, his arms raised. His corner men embraced him, his coach hugging him the way a father might hug a son who just won the championship game in High School. For the first time in twenty three years, Eric felt what it would be like to have a father proud of his son. The noise from the crowd was now near deafening. Their cheers and yells were the loudest he has ever heard. Yet he could still make out what his coach told him. “This is what you trained for. This moment is what you earned. Don’t forget what brought you here.” And how can Erik forget all the things that brought him here; the promise he made to himself to never again let a man beat him down, the promise he made his brother to always take care of him, to one day be the father that his own would and could never do. He was now the Champion, he was now the one they would come to in order to prove themselves, and he was now on top of the food chain. The referee called Erik over to the center of the cage, the announcer now in there with them.

“The referee has called a stop to this fight at two minutes and thirty six seconds of the second round by Knock out and new Cage Warriors Middleweight champion, Erik the Gorilla Gomez.”

With that the referee raised Erik’s hand. He may not have been in the big show, earning the big bucks, but at this moment, Erik felt like the baddest man on the planet. He speed up his answers when the promoter interviewed him after the fight. He didn’t care to talk about how he felt, if being champion was everything he ever wanted, and what does he see next in line. Erik kept his answers short and to the point.

“Yes, being champ is everything I wanted” “I see me kicking more ass to come. If someone wants this belt they have to take it, and they are not going to.” Erik just didn’t care to keep answering questions. He wanted out of the cage. He fought to fight and to win, not to talk. And it wasn’t that he didn’t care but all he could think about was the after party. And all the cage bunnies ready to get down, and he knew it wouldn’t be too hard. Not because these girls were easy, but with his dark hair and eyes, and well defined body he knew he had the physical looks to get their attention.

Her name was Tiffany, or was it Amber. Hell, it could have been Jennifer. It really didn’t matter. All that mattered was that her face wasn’t fucked up, the doctor did a great job on the tits, and her ass was a perfect size. The pair drunkenly made their way to his apartment. At one point she let her dinner out in the hallway. But Erik didn’t care; he wasn’t going to kiss her anyway. It took a few tries to find the right key, but Erik managed to get the door open. Even with his stupor Erik new the path to take from the front door to his bedroom without knocking into shit. He avoided the large glass table, the leather couch, and all the scattered toys. Erik knew this situation all too well. He closed his bedroom door, to keep the person in the next room from waking up. The pair started to do their thing. Erik knew how to pick them; she was feisty and an expert with her mouth. The gagging just turned him on even more. The taste of her skin, the smell of her sweat the sound of her body and the screams excited him. Her body bent over the bed, her back arched up as he pulled her hair. He was the animal, he was in the cage again. The sensation was the same but the situation was the only difference. He was in control and this is how he liked it. But the alcohol was getting to him. Erik just laid himself on the bed and let her get on top and do her thing so he could half sleep and half fuck.

Erik woke up and noticed she was still here. He sighed to himself. Usually they leave by now. They know the drill. She turned over and smiled at him.

“My legs still feel like jelly.” She laughed, smiling at him with her eyes open, waiting for a response.

Erik turned his head to her and half smirked, “You’re welcome.”

Erik moved up putting his back against the head board. As she got out of his bed, he wiped his eyes as he stared at her looking at the few photos he had on his oak dresser. He sighed as he realized he must have passed out before he could give her cab money. She held up a photo of a young boy.

“Is this your brother?” she asked

“No, that’s my son.” Erik replied, shaking last night’s debauchery from his mind.

“Oh, my god! He is so cute! He has your dimples. So, is this his mom?” she held up a photo of Erik’s son being held by a stunning brunette with a half open smile shy yet inviting, wearing a hipster perfectly placed as to not cover too much hair.

“No, she’s just someone I knew.” Erik replied, that lie became easier and easier with every woman. She wasn’t someone he just knew, she was special to him, much more special than these girls he treated like just another exercise, but it didn’t matter anymore. She was gone, and he was here.

“An ex-girlfriend?”

“You can say that. We dated for a bit. She had her chance, but it just didn’t work out.” Erik’s voice cracked a little. He hated personal questions and he especially hated personal questions about certain things in his past.

“What’s her name?”

“Look it was fun and all; you’re an awesome chick, but does it really fucking matter what her name is? She isn’t my woman.”

She could sense the change in Erik’s voice. She knew she crossed a line. Putting the photo back down, she smiled at him.

“If you want I can fix us up some breakfast.”

“That sounds nice, but I have to clean up and head out to see my family.”

“ohh ummm ok. Well, here is my number. If you ever want to hang out again just give me a call.” She wrote her number on a piece of paper she pulled out from her purse and handed it to Erik, giving him a kiss before she made her way out. Erik rubbed his eyes and got out of bed. Placing her number on his dresser, he sighed. He fixed up the photos putting them back in their specific spots.

As Erik fumbled around the kitchen looking for what to throw in with the eggs, he could hear the door to the other room opening. Erik’s back was turned but he could hear the footsteps approaching. Erik started to mix the eggs and bologna, and said.

“Hey bro, we’re going to the parents today, so make sure you dress nice.”

“I know. Did you win last night?”

Erik turned around, putting the scrambled eggs on two plates. “Yeah, I won.” He smiled as he said this. A sort of cocky smile. Erik’s brother reached over and touched the bruise around Erik’s left eye.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s ok.”

“Are you sure?” Erik’s brother proceeded to touch the bruise more as if his fingertips would somehow heal it.

“Yeah I’m sure, guys like you and me can take a hit, and just keep on going.” Erik smiled as he said this. There was more truth to that than just his cage fighting. The both of them went through more in childhood than anyone should face. Erik could remember every fight, every bruise, and every tear. He was sixteen when he got out of there and moved in with his grandparents upstate. He felt horrible about it. He felt as if he abandoned his brother. But his grandparents were old. Erik was able to take care of himself and he knew they wouldn’t be able to care for him. So for four years he waited. He saved up enough and moved back to Southern California, and got his older brother out of there.

Erik and his brother continued to eat their breakfast. Unlike the living room which was cluttered with toys, the kitchen was immaculately clean. Everything was in order from the cloth placemats on the small wooden table, to the organization of the blender, toaster, and microwave on the tile counter. She would always keep the kitchen clean, the one place he felt they were a family. And with her gone he became the kitchen’s keeper. Keeping it like she always did gave Erik a sense of normalcy after the disaster.

“Erik, was that girl a friend?” His brother asked, still chewing toast.

“You saw her?”

“Mmmhmm, you have a lot of friends, but they never stay. Do you make them mad?”

Erik just looked at his brother trying his best not to laugh he was happy that his brother still didn’t fully understand what was going on. “They are just one time friends. It’s better that way.”

“Well, at school I tell my friends I love them and they are always my friends.” His brother said, bits of egg falling out of his mouth. His brother made a valid point and he knew it, but I Love You wasn’t something he was going to toss out there, especially now.

After they finished their breakfast Erik sent his brother to his room to get ready, and he washed the dishes. After getting ready and packed, the two piled in Erik’s car and made their way to the parents. Erik’s car was a mess, full of protein bar wrappers, and energy drink cans. And it smelled like one too many new car scent trees. Erik’s apartment was close to downtown. Near everything that kept him busy. Their parent’s house was at one point out in the country, but the growing population turned the country into a suburb.

The old white two story home was the same as Erik remembered growing up. The same two cars in the driveway, his father’s beat up work truck, and the old once red Explorer. The lawn green and manicured like always. Erik smiled in relief as he recalled it was his job to maintain the yards when he was still living here. His father and uncles on the porch playing dominoes like they do every Sunday.

“Your mom’s inside. Help her get the table ready.” His father said in his broken English.

“Ok, dad.” Erik respected his father. He worked sometimes 12 hour days to make sure the bills were paid and they all had clothes on their backs and food on their plates. In a way Erik wished he could be that type of father, the provider. He respected the man, but he didn’t love him. How could he love the man who taught him how to fight by beating the shit out of him until his teens when Erik became big enough to defend himself? How could he love a man who treated his brother like a hindrance? How could he love a man who hit his wife after one too many beers? He respected the father, but hated the man. Before the brothers could walk inside Erik’s father grabbed his arm.

“Mijo, what happened to your eye?”

“I had a fight last night dad, you know that.”

“Did you win?”

“Yes I did. I actually won the belt, and I’m the new champion for my weight class.”

His father laughed. “I didn’t know they let boys fight girls.”

Erik forced out a chuckle as he opened the door. A thousand times he imagined his father across from him inside the cage. Just the two of them locked inside, no way out until one of them wins. And for five minutes he would beat his father like he beat him, without mercy or remorse. He would ignore his father’s cries for help, and his pleas to make it stop. He would leave his father on the mat broken and bloody. He would feel his father’s blood on his hands, on his face, on his body, the warmth of it bringing comforting chills to him. But those are just thoughts; after his mother learned what Erik did for a living she made him promise he would never hit his father. She knew how he felt, and she knew it was up to her to make sure something like that wouldn’t happen.

The inside of the home was cluttered with photos of loved ones and images of saints. The living room was spacious. The two large couches could sit eight people comfortably and the fireplace which was almost never on was adorned with more photos and numerous ceramic angles. Erik’s mother, a short woman with thick black hair and deep brown eyes, ran up to the two brothers, giving them both hugs and kisses. Erik’s brother loved the affection but ran to the kitchen as soon as he smelled the fresh cookies.

“Mijo, que paso con tu ojo?” His mother asked as she touched the large bruise.

“It’s nothing mom, I had a fight last night.” As he explained what happened he couldn’t help but notice the fresh bruise on her eye. His body started to tense.

“Mom, what happened?” He didn’t know why he asked. He knew what happened.

“Tu padre tomo muchos cheves y no esi la comida bien.”

“Mom you can’t let him do that to you. Next time call me and I’ll come over, ok?” Again he didn’t know why he told her, she stayed with his father after years and years of abuse, and he knew in his heart she would never leave him. He knew that to her his father needed her.

“Mijo, le dije que eso te va a matar.”

“Mom, don’t worry, I’m good at it.”

“Pero…”

“Mom, I said don’t worry, I’m good at it. It’s what I want to do, and it pays the bills.”

Erik hated the fact that his mom worried about him so much, he wasn’t a kid anymore. He beat people up for a living, and yet his mother still acted like he was that little kid who would ask her for cookies, and believed in Santa Clause. But there was nothing he could do to make her not worry; he would just tell himself that maybe that’s a mother’s job, to worry.

Erik sat with his family for dinner, the smells of homemade arroz con pollo, and carne con chile filled Erik with that at home sense he could never get in his apartment. Like always his mother served everyone first, starting with his father and ending with his brother. The bright red plates covered with food. There was no room left on the large rectangular table. All of his father’s brothers were here. Erik sat by his brother making sure he didn’t make a mess, and cleaning it up if he did.

“So Erik when are you getting a real job?” His father asked.

“I have a job dad, remember?”

“Yeah but fighting isn’t a job. You need to do something with your life. That’s why she left you, you didn’t have goals.” Erik sighed, his fist clenched. It had been years since she left, and yet even now he hated it when she was brought up. He didn’t hate her, but the past is the past for a reason.

“She left because she found someone else she wanted to be with. Nothing I can do about that.” Erik replied, his voice angry.

“She found another man because you weren’t man enough, mijo. You treated her like she was how do you say…un angel de oro, and women need a man to tell them how it is, not promises.” Erik’s mother sensing the tension raised her voice.

“I saw her at her work. I went for coffee and she was there. She is very nice mijo, maybe one day you two can make it work.”

“She made her decision mom; she left for that James guy. The nurse.”

Erik’s father laughed. “You see, mijo? She left you for a nurse. If you were man enough, she wouldn’t even think about leaving.” Erik’s father’s voice grew more and more condescending.

“Dad it wasn’t like that. she told me it just wasn’t going to work out. we were too different.”

“And you believe her? She said that to you and went back to that nurse and fucked him.” Erik finished the food he had in his mouth. His body was hot. He only felt this way when he was in the cage and ready to hurt someone. He stood up from his chair.

“Dad don’t talk like that, ok? She isn’t a whore, she just moved on.”

“Mijo she moved on when she was still with you. That isn’t what a good woman does. And that’s a good thing, you two didn’t look right.”

“And what does that mean, dad?” Erik’s voice grew louder, his burning eyes focused on his father.

“I mean she was above you mijo. You make what enough money to pay the bills. A girl like her wanted a man that can spoil her, and you’re too nice. She didn’t need a nice guy, she needs a man.”

“And what would you know, dad? Want me to beat her like you beat mom?” Erik’s gaze on his father was like that of a hunter about to shoot his prey, ready to kill. Erik’s father now stood up. The man of the house was challenged and he wasn’t going to let things slide.

“You don’t talk to me like that ok, hijo de puta. You might be some cage fighter, but I’ll still kick your fucking ass.”

“You really think so dad, a man that hits his wife and beats his son until he gets old enough to fight back, you’re going to kick my ass?” All the uncles moved their chairs; in their almost drunk state they were ready to see a show. Erik’s father now walked up to him, pointing and pushing with his finger.

“You think you’re better than me, more of a man?”

“No dad, I know I am.”

At this point his father hit Erik in the face. Erik had taken many hits in his career and this was nothing to him. Erik just turned and smiled. “Is that all you got?” Before his father could hit him again Erik moved out of the way and punched his father in the stomach, knocking him to the floor. Erik’s mother ran between them crying, pleading for them to stop. Erik’s hands were still clenched. He was ready to keep going to keep inflicting pain, and it was during moments like this when Erik was the one causing pain that he didn’t feel his own. He could see the tears in his mother’s eyes and he just shook his head.

“If you know what’s good for you dad, stay down.” He then turned to his mom. “I’m sorry mom. Me and Hector are going to leave now. The food was great. Thank you.” With that Erik and Hector left, and made their way back to their apartment. On the drive Erik’s hands were still shaky. In a way he felt bad that he hit his father, but in a way he knew it had to be done. A part of him also wished it was that James guy he was hitting, but he knew that wouldn’t win her back.

The next morning Erik made his way to the coffee shop. It was some trendy new age coffee place, not the Starbucks his ex worked at. He ordered his coffee and bagel and just sat at the only empty table. He sat there with his face down, his way of isolating himself. He pulled out a crumbled piece of paper from his pants pocket. He straightened it out on the table and saw the phone number; before he could get himself to call he crumbled it back up and put it in his pocket again.

“Hey, Erik.” A familiar woman’s voice asked. Erik looked up and smiled.

“Sorry, I . . . it’s hard to remember names.”

She pointed at her nametag. “It’s Amber. So what are you doing here, stalking me?” she laughed.

“Nah, just wanted some coffee.” He said, he looked up at her to get a better look and saw the same face and smile from the morning. He smiled a little.

“Well, I get off work in like thirty minutes; maybe we can catch up, and see a movie or something?”

“That would be nice, but I can’t leave my brother alone for long.”

“Your brother?” she asked.

“Yeah, he lives with me, he has downs and I watch out for him.”

“Well, maybe we can just rent a movie or something. People still do that, right?” she laughed again.

“Sure, that sounds nice.” Erik didn’t really care about the women he picked up. They were just around for one thing. But maybe she was different. “Just as long as you don’t run off with some nurse.” He laughed.

She smiled and put her hands on his. “I like tough guys like you, not nurses.”