To the Victor

When I stepped off the stage, I saw mom looking back. She had made eye contact with Jack Malone and they seemed to be staring at each other from across the stage, amidst the throng of handlers, press corps, promoters, ring girls, and managers. Mom and Jack were just frozen, staring at each other. I couldn't see her eyes because her back was to me, but I could see his eyes. I saw recognition. I saw that self-satisfied smirk. I saw lust in his eyes too. My blood boiled and I put my hand on her elbow. "Ready, ma? Let's go."

She held still for a moment longer, their eyes communicating across the years, across space and time, across a chasm so deep that only Jack Malone could cross it in a single bound. My grip tightened and mom looked back at me. "Ow, Bobby, you're hurting me."

"Sorry."

At dinner, Gus, Sally, the rest of the team, and mom were eating heartily. I was devouring food like a crazed savage and Gus had to cut me off before I ate myself into a coma. "Take it easy, kid! You ain't going to starve to death. You still need to move out of the way from his punches, you know."

I slowed down and sipped at my water, skulking, glancing at mom with a scowl. She seemed none the wiser, although she did seem distracted. Thoughts of him? Thoughts about meeting up with jack Malone, the dead beat dad? I was raging inside. I wanted to end Nunez now.

When supper ended, we all walked back to the elevators. I told them that I would make sure ma got into her room all right and they said goodnight. "See you tomorrow, champ. And tomorrow, you will be the next light heavyweight champion. Believe it and it will be so," Gus said solemnly. I gave him a brief hug. He had been more a father to me than the one I cared nothing for.

Mom turned to face me when we got to her door. She leaned back against it and held onto both my hands. She kissed each one in turn, softly, tenderly. I saw tears in her eyes and she smiled at me. "This is it, kiddo. Tomorrow, your whole world changes."

"Our whole world," I corrected her. "You and me, ma. Always been you and me."

She nodded and I stepped closer. We were alone in the grand hallway so I had no fear now. She turned her face and let me kiss her on the cheek. "What's wrong?" I said quietly. "You've been really distracted since we've been here."

She shrugged and faked a smile. "The lights, the glitter, the crowds. It's all so overwhelming."

"Well, fuck it, let's go then. Let's just get the hell out of Dodge. Come on, I still have the car."

"You're crazy—"

"I know I am. Crazy. Crazy over some crazy lady. I can't help it, ma. I'll go if you want to go. I'll leave it all behind, for you."

"You really are crazy, aren't you baby?" She caressed my face, so close to hers, so close I could kiss her moist lips. I looked into her eyes earnestly, hungrily. "But...we can't, Bobby. You know that. We can't. You can't come in."

She saw the dejected look in my eyes. She shook her head. "Not now, Bobby. You have to be ready for tomorrow night."

"Then tomorrow night, after I win, after the lights and the post fight, and the autographs and interviews, after they're all gone to bed and asleep, I can come to you?"

She shook her head again, sadly. "Bobby..."

"I need you. I want to be with you. Forever."

"No, Bobby. Not that way. We can't." She kissed my hand again. "I want you to win. I want you to get everything you've ever dreamed about. This is it, Bobby, the title. All those hours of working out and fighting your way to the top. You're going further than...than..."

"Than him. I know." I took a step back. I kissed her hand too. "Goodnight, Kate McKay. I'll see you tomorrow, all right?"

She nodded, tears flowing down her rosy cheeks.

"Don't leave town on me, okay Kate? Don't leave me hanging all alone."

"Ringside, baby. You know that. Always ringside for you."

I turned and walked to my room, burning, yearning, lost, angry, so fucking angry at the world, at circumstances, at rules, at convention, at Freddie Nunez, at Jack Malone, at fate. How fate had tempted me time and again and I was always two steps out of reach. I would seal my fate tomorrow.

The next morning I ran three miles on the dirt and sand just outside of the city limits. Gus and Sally followed slowly in a car just to make sure I didn't get run over or bitten by some rattlesnake or struck by lightning. They were afraid that I might sprain an ankle or fall into a ravine. I needed to expend the nervous energy and work off the food from last night. I needed to stay loose and calm down. The run was relatively short and I kept a very slow and steady pace. After that, a couple of loosening up rounds on the heavy bag and three easy tapping rounds around the ring. Again, nothing too strenuous and nothing that could potentially cause injury.

I enjoyed a long hot shower, then put it to cold to close up my pores. We all shared a light lunch and I was beginning to wonder where mom was. Gus told me he saw her at the slot machines and not to worry. He had arranged for the hotel attendants to get her to her seat well before the fight. I had to relax and put it out of my head. My main focus—my only focus now—was the destruction of Freddie Nunez and the title.

As the team led me to the opening into the arena, I could hear the announcer going through the introductions. We were the final fight and it was already 10:00pm local time. It was late for me, but I was too jacked to even notice. I loved hearing the music that Gus and I had picked, Metallica's "Enter Sandman". Its base shook the very foundations of the arena and I knew that I would be saying goodnight to Freddie Nunez and his career. When I stepped into the ring, I saw her and my heart leapt.

Mom wore a form-fitting satin, midnight blue dress with spaghetti string straps that revealed a lot of skin. The vee cut showed off her motherly breasts and my mouth watered at the sight of her, She was angelic and sultry all at once. Her alabaster skin shone brightly through the crowds and for me, she stood out among all of the beautiful people around. She was above them all. I smiled at her and waved a gloved fist.

She hooped and hollered, stood up and clapped, and shouted my name above the crowd. I could her siren call above the roar of the ocean and my heart skipped two beats as she blew me a kiss. She seemed so happy and proud. No matter the outcome, I felt like a winner with her by my side.

I do not recall Freddie's entrance into the ring much. I don't even remember the announcer and the ring girls. I don't remember much of what Gus was saying to me. The dazzle, the lights, the crowds, the adrenaline, had all coming crashing down like tidal waves, a force so potent, so deafening, that I was lost at sea like baby turtle who's lost his way. By the third round, I do remember Gus screaming at me, "You're losing this fight, kid! You're blowing this fucking fight!"

No matter what I did, Nunez was faster. I could feint a left jab and Nunez would counter punch. I could go for a hook to the body and Nunez would easily evade and deliver five or seven counter punches. Nunez was greased lightning and I was some Irish chubby kid that couldn't land one damn blow! I was losing. Not gracefully. I was losing royally. I was outclassed, Gus was saying. I needed to get back into the fight but I was dazed. He poured water down my face and I felt the sting of a bloody nose. Or was it the sting of an eye that had blackened and was probably crying tears of crimson sweat. It was a disaster.

We had tried to build up my confidence, but this was a disaster of biblical proportions. I had no right to be here. I was some dumb schmuck from the neighborhood and I was in the ring with a master boxer. The little Irish kid was getting schooled. By round five, Sally and Gus were talking about throwing in the towel. Tough to hear or make a decision when the crowds were screaming so loud.

And then I saw her. I saw the look on her face. Pity. She had been crying and in anguish, but I also saw pity in her eyes. I hated to see that, hated to see her in pain. What changed it all, changed everything in my world, was when I saw him, too. He was sitting next to her. They were together! Jack Malone was holding her hand and comforting her. When had he gotten there? When had he insinuated himself back into her life?

My throat went dry and I looked dumbly at Gus. He was asking me for the third or fourth time, "You want me to end this, kid? You're getting your ass handed to you and you're going to get brain dead pretty soon."

I shook my head and pushed the mouthpiece into my mouth. I stood up on rubbery legs. No way, Gus. Don't end this. Not here, not now, not like this. Let me go out like a true fighter. If I go down tonight, let me go as a man. Just give me that one bit of dignity. Gus saw the look in my eyes and knew. "Okay, kid, one more round. Just one more round."

I let the banshee take over, that screaming, wailing, ghost from Irish folklore. It was the maddening, the unbecoming, as I had called it. I un-became a human being and became a beast possessed. There was no real other way for me to describe it. I just reached down to the bottom of my gut, pulled out any last source of energy, strength, will, courage, and dished it all out on my opponent's face and body.

It was a lucky shot, of course. The papers and news would say afterwards that it was the luck of the Irish. It would forever become folklore for the would-be up and comers in those sleazy backroom gyms, the smelly dungeons where kids hoped and dreamed. I caught Nunez with a lucky hook to his chin, a grazing blow really. But when he reacted just as I had seen so many times before, I unleashed my hail Mary attempt at a combination. Left jab, right cross, left hook to the body, then right hook to the chin again. Nunez was caught off guard and he was hit solidly. My strength had prevailed. After the standing eight count, I went in for the kill. He moved fast again but I had trapped him in his own corner. The screaming in my head and in my ears never truly went away and all I could recall was the referee pulling me off his body. It was almost homicide.

I had done it. I had won the light heavyweight championship of the world. Arms raised in victory, being held aloft by some people, carried off by some other people, run through the press corps and post fight interviews, and the knowing smiles and twinkles in the ring girls' eyes, knowing what they offered, promising nothing, giving up everything, getting ashower and some stitches on my forehead, nose straightened again, a massage from some German lady, hot oil and hot towels, more pictures, always more pictures, champagne flowing and spilling and bubbling up, people laughing and shouting and cheering and talking and asking so many damned questions.

Then it was quiet. Then the crowds slowly faded and Gus and I were alone. He was crying openly, hugging me and telling me how much he loved me. He was so proud of me. I hugged him back and we laughed together.

"Bed, champ. Time to get the rest you so deserve. Time for peace." We walked back to the penthouse and I watched him disappear in his room.

Mom never answered her door and I was back to boiling anger.

I was standing on my balcony, looking down at the boulevard, watching the cars go by, wondering why people were up so late. I was not deflating from the high of the win. I was the champion now and I deserved better than this. To be alone after capturing one of the single greatest sports titles in the world, this was unheard of. The ring girls, all three of them supermodels in their own right, had offered themselves to me and I had spurned them in hopes of...mom. I gave up what most young men would not give up—could not give up. All for my mother.

Then I saw her, emerging from his car, no doubt. She walked alone, briskly past the concierge and up the grand entrance. My heart quickened again, my blood began to stir once more. I ran to my door and waited. It was like waiting for eternity, the echoes of the crowds still ringing in my ears.

She came out of the elevator, still in her dark blue dress, shiny as she passed my door and got to hers. It took her a moment to find her key and open her door. I was behind her and I knew she felt me.

"Missed you at dinner," I said softly.

She stood still, her back to me.

"Did you go out...with him?"

She turned and stepped aside as I moved into her room. She would not look at me, only down at my feet. She seemed sorry about something, perhaps guilty. My heart was pounding out of my chest. Did they...? Has she fallen back in love with him? Was there nothing left of us?

"You were brilliant tonight, Bobby." She looked up again, smiling now.

"Were you with him?"

"You were, oh God, I thought you were going to lose. I nearly lost hope. But then when you came out in the fifth round, I saw that look in your eyes. You had bloody murder in your eyes. You had the look of the fighting Irish. It was scary and exciting, all at once. I was so proud of you, honey."

"What did he promise you this time? What do you believe this time? What lies did he tell you?"

"Bobby, please." She took a step towards me, her arms outstretched. I let her hold me. I wanted to feel her skin, her heat, her breath. I wanted her next to me, close to me, beside me. I wanted her love and acceptance, as I have always wanted.

My arms wrapped around her and I held her tightly, way too tightly. I looked down at her tear-filled eyes and kissed her. Softly. Chastely. She returned my kiss and we both knew where it could go. The heat built up instantly, like a raging fire exploding from a closed door. My kiss grew fervent and I pressed my mouth harder into hers. She was panting, trying to catch her breath, as she pushed away at my chest.

Mom turned and walked to her balcony, stepping outside and peered over the railing. For a brief moment I thought she would jump and I panicked. Walking quickly, I followed her outside. She stood deathly still as if the whole world were holding its breath. I stepped up behind her, placed gentle hands on her shoulders. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a silver necklace. Methodically, I looped it around her neck and clasped it on. She reached up and looked down at the sapphire rock.

"Oh Bobby...so beautiful. Thank you."

"Not as beautiful as you are." My hands lingered on her shoulders, enjoying her skin, its silkiness.

When she didn't shrug off my touch I began to softly massage her shoulders. She murmured something and I continued to knead her tight knots, the cords on her neck standing taut. I kissed her shoulder lightly, marveling at the scent of her skin. She did not smell like sex. Her hair was still done up perfectly and her makeup was as pristine as when I saw her at ringside. I smiled, knowing she had not given herself to him.

And then my world crumbled again.

"He wants me to go with him." My hands stiffened at her words, stopped their progress. She continued. "He said he was so very sorry and he had made a mistake. He wants to take me away from all of this. He has money now, not like the old days, when we were so poor. He wants to take care of me now, Bobby. Your father."

"What about me? What about us? I have money now. I can take care of us. We don't need him. We've never needed him. It's always been just you and me, ma. Always. Where the hell was he when I was growing up and we were struggling with money? He comes into your life again and everything's forgotten? Forgiven?" My arms snaked around her waist and I held her to me, pressing into her backside. I kissed her neck again, rougher this time.

"Bobby..."

I pressed my hardness into her ass. I wanted her to know, to feel, how much I loved her, how much I wanted her. My hands roamed up her belly, up her torso, cupped her breasts held firm by her satin dress. She moaned slightly, trying to mask her own desire. I could feel her melting into me, melding her body closer to mine. I kissed her shoulder and he neck, then ran my tongue down the side of her face and neck.

I whispered into her ear, "What about us? What about me? I love you, ma. I love you and I...want you."

"Bobby, no...please...I'm not one of your ring girls. Please..." Her hands tried to pry mine off of her but I was insistent. "Bobby...we can't..."

"Yes, we can. We have to. We have to." I traced a finger along her collarbone, found the strap on her right shoulder, and pushed it off, exposing her breast to the cool night air. She gasped as my palm cupped her mother breast and I squeezed. My fingers found her nipple and tweaked it to instant hardness.

My other hand pulled down the other strap and I freed her other breast for the taking. She squirmed now, trying to back away from the balcony. Although we were seven stories to the top floor, anyone could have seen from below. I smiled, knowing that this was not where we should have been.

"Bobby," she whispered harshly. "Please. Stop. The street. People will see."

"I don't care about other people." I bent down and lifted the hem of her dress up and over her ass. She gasped as I reached down, found her silk panties, and tore them off. She would be mine now.

I bent her forward as she grasped the railing. She was panting frantically, as if she were out of breath. My hand fumbled with my pants and soon, my throbbing cock was free, flexing its muscles and straining for entry. I reached around again and found her wetness. "Oh God, you're so hot. So moist. You want this. You want me."

"No...we...we can't! Please!" She was pleadeing, but her body stopped fighting. Instead, she held onto the railing and I could swear, she had spread her legs a little wider. "Oh God, Bobby, what are you doing? What are you—"

I shoved myself inside of her, at last, all the way home. I was home. I was finally embedded inside the one woman I was never supposed to have. I sank into the depths of the most forbidden place for all sons. I was inside of her and my cock twitched in carnal pleasure. I held still, not wanting to come though my loins screamed for release.

She grunted out loud, wincing in pain. She was tight and wet and willing. She was mine. I placed my hands on either side of her waist and then began to move in and out of her.

"Oh God! Oh God!" she moaned. "Bobby...what...what are you doing? What are we doing? We can't. We can't do this."

I ignored her pleas and continued to assault her, the adrenaline from the fight, the lust that had built up for so long, at last, inside of her, taking her, possessing her.

"We are. We have to," I panted back at her. "I want you. I need you. I'm the one that will have you and take care of you and protect you. Not him. Me. I need you and I want you. Oh God, ma, I love you!"

I pounded into her now. Not nicely or lovingly, but as a man possessed of pure animalistic lust for another woman. I would not last long as I felt her clenching my shaft. "Oh God!" I roared.

She seemed to panic now, awakened from her dream. "Oh God! Bobby! Wait! Wait! We're not protected. I'm not...on the pill. You're not wearing anything. Please! Pull out. Pull out. Oh God!"

My senses came to me and at the very last seconds, I complied with her wishes. I jerked out of her moist center and shot a load of steaming come on her pale ass. Again and again, I lurched forward, delivering another steaming glob of my cream. It had almost been too late and it was all I could do to have the decency to at least pull out of her.

I collapsed onto her back as she held us both up along the railing. In time, I helped her stand and we shared a long embrace and tender kiss. I held her hand and walked her back into her room. I didn't know what to say, nor what to do. Had I just raped my own mother? Certainly, I took her against her will, but I knew she enjoyed it and wanted it in the end. I knew in my heart.