Read Online The Laws of the Ring by Tim Keown, Urijah Faber - Free Book Online

primed to hit Virgil over the head.
    So much for me staying out of the fight.
    I hit him with a straight right to the jaw that he never saw coming. His feet stayed exactly where they were, the stanchion dropped harmlessly to the side, and his body slid to the sidewalk, out cold.
    Virgil turned around and looked at me, his eyes wide.
    â€œI told you I have power,” I said.
    Just as I was showing Virg how I saved him and proved him wrong, we saw a female Palm Springs cop jogging up the street wearing Daisy Duke shorts. “Hey you, come here,” she said, pointing at me. I made a quick dumb decision to flee the scene rather than face the consequences, so I took off from the group, ducked into an alley, and sat there in the dark. My hands hurt like hell. I didn’t know where anybody was, but figured they were all together. I was thinking that I would sit in the alley for a bit and then go find the group. Virgil was good with Ryan, so I didn’t think much damage could be done in the next half hour before I rejoined them.
    After about twenty minutes, I peeked out of the alley and saw a bike cop sitting about ten feet away scanning the area. It was clear the cop had seen someone run into the alley. Then I looked about fifty feet down and a cop car was sitting there also. They were surrounding the block and weren’t going anywhere, so eventually I came out to face the music.
    â€œWhat are you doing, why did you run?” the bike cop asked.
    â€œMy friends got in a fight, and I ran because everybody ran.”
    â€œWhy are your hands messed up?”
    â€œI’m an MMA fighter, and I fought tonight in the casino.”
    He either didn’t believe me or didn’t understand what I was talking about, so I pulled the check out of my wallet and showed him.
    I was handcuffed and arrested for obstructing an officer from duty (running from the scene of the fight). I was in the back of a paddy wagon and was able to get my cell phone out of my pocket, so I put it on speaker and I called Virgil. Having my hands behind my back didn’t help. I could hear someone had answered the phone and so I was yelling, “Virg, I got arrested! Make sure you take care of Ryan!” I was panicked and pissed, and knew Virgil had been drinking. I was worried about Ryan, but felt like my friends could all handle the situation until I was released. I spent the night in a cell (the drunk tank) for the first and only time in my life, and at five in the morning they called my name and let me go. I rushed back to the hotel, but I had no idea what room we were in. I simply couldn’t remember. I asked the front desk and they refused to tell me. Finally, I had to give the guy thirty bucks just to tell me the room number, and the first thing I saw when I got there was a hole in the wall roughly five feet two inches above the floor—Virgil’s height.
    There were my friends sprawled out around the room. Nobody made it to the comfort of the two beds in the room. Virgil was there sleeping. Ryan was not in the room. I woke Virgil.
    â€œWhere’s Ryan?”
    â€œWe thought he was with you.”
    â€œMe? I was in jail! I told you that!”
    I was flipping out inside, but Virgil looked utterly clueless and quickly realized this was pointless. I took Virgil’s keys and drove his pickup downtown. Panicked that I’d lost my brother forever, I drove from one street to the other until I suddenly saw Ryan. There he was, disheveled, sprinting across the street in my path then plopping down on a park bench, and looking at me like where in the hell have you been . I’d never been so happy to see him.
    I rolled down the window and yelled over at him. He gave me the annoyed what-the-heck? gesture with his hands, and hopped on one foot to the street, a sign that he was stressed. I pulled the car up next to him.
    â€œWhere the hell have you been?” I asked him.
    â€œWhere the hell have you been?”