Bad Boy Baby Daddy (2 page)

“Are you sure, guys?” I heard one of them say, rubbing her arms as goose bumps cropped up.

She wasn’t the only one who was nervous. Even from outside, I could hear the roar of the crowd inside, getting ready to watch two guys smash each other inside a cage. Not exactly my cup of tea, but each to their own, I guess. Besides, it wasn’t exactly the fight I was nervous about. It was the idea of seeing Kaiden again that made my heart pound.

“Yes, Tiana, it’s basically like a party! It’s cool!” one of the other girls said to the first one, grabbing their tickets from her clutch purse as she spoke. She handed them to one of the door girls, and seconds later, the group was disappearing into the building, nervous girl included.

The crowd got even louder as I stepped inside, as was to be expected. The sound was like a vibration in the air; everyone’s excitement being proclaimed as loudly as possible as they screeched and cheered, waiting for their favorite fighters to come out and wave from the stage surrounding the large cage in the center of the room before pummeling each other’s brains out.

I had a front row ticket, and now that the door girl had stamped it, all I had to do was find my seat. I didn’t know what I’d been expecting once I stepped inside, but I’d at least thought there might be someone in here to show me exactly where seat 8A was.

No such luck.

I glanced helplessly around before figuring that it couldn’t be too hard to find a front row seat in here.
Just find the first row, genius.

Music started up, a heavy bass thumping and assaulting my senses in the massive dim space, and I carefully walked down the steps that ran down the center of one of the aisles leading towards the cage. The cage itself was in the shape of a octagon which appeared to be composed mostly of steel wire, and the wire looked sharp enough to cut any unlucky bastard who got thrown hard against it.

My heart seemed to beat in sync with the music as I made my way to the front row, and as I looked around, I found myself actually smiling. There was something about being here amongst the sweaty crowd, dim lighting and grimy seats which made me feel….alive. I wasn’t usually an adrenaline junkie, but the hot rush of blood to my face I was experiencing right now felt good.

The smile faded from my face only seconds later as I felt a large, callused hand groping my ass.

Whirling around, I saw two tattooed guys leering at me from their seats. “Hey, sweetheart,” the one who’d grabbed me said, obviously mistaking my about-face for interest. “Why don’t you come sit with me? Gimme some brown sugar!”

Was he freaking serious? Just…no.

I crossed my arms. “Touch me like that again, and I’ll be more than happy to touch you back…with the can of mace I have in my handbag.”

Okay, so that wasn’t the most intelligent or witty of comebacks, but this guy didn’t exactly look like a literary genius, so I doubt he’d noticed.

He looked surprised at my words, and to be honest, I’d surprised myself a little. I wasn’t usually the type to stand up for myself so brazenly, but being in this atmosphere with all the adrenaline flowing through me had suddenly given me the urge to do so. And thank god, because the prick deserved it. I mean, brown sugar?
Really?

“Sorry,” he mumbled, and under his breath I heard him add, ‘
bitch’.

Whatever. I didn’t have time to care about what some random redneck asshole thought of me.

I headed farther down the steps, and when I’d reached the front row, I saw that they were thankfully numbered; tiny inscriptions on the top of the chairs that I’d almost missed without my glasses on.

I made my way to my seat just in time, because the music stopped a moment later, and a deep man’s voice came over the loudspeakers, announcing the arrival of the two fighters.

The first was called Mac something-rather, and he stepped out onto the stage that ran around the edge of the cage, grinning as he flexed and fist-pumped at the whooping crowd. His lips curled into a grin as a girl quite literally threw her panties at him, and I took in his crooked nose, bright smile and tribal-inspired tattoos which coiled their way over his arms and biceps. Hmm…he was pretty hot, in a rough kinda way, but nowhere near as hot as Kaiden.

Then again, these fights weren’t being judged on sexiness. This Mac guy looked like he could
fight.

The whole room practically vibrated from the clapping and screeching as Kaiden’s name was announced a few minutes later, and my heart leaped into my mouth as he stepped out onto the octagonal stage and did a slow lap around it, waving to the crowd and smirking at girls as they screamed and waved, begging for just one wink from him.

God, he was even sexier in person.

He grinned and flexed as he came to a standstill not far from me, his muscles rippling under his T-shirt and his tattoos dancing across his skin. My tongue was cactus dry as his gaze came to rest on me a second later, and for an elated second, I thought he actually recognized me. He seemed to be looking directly at me, those wicked blue eyes dancing over my face and cleavage, and I gave him a shy smile and wave before realizing he wasn’t looking at me at all.

No, by now I’d realized he was looking at a pretty redheaded girl sitting one row behind me to the left. I’d nervously glanced away from Kaiden for a brief second, and that was when I’d seen her over my shoulder, lifting her shirt and flashing her breasts at him. I had to admit, they were nice breasts, complete with silver nipple rings to add some extra interest, but still…it stung more than I thought it would to realize Kaiden hadn’t even noticed me sitting right here.

His gaze traveled back from the girl to me, and my stomach flipped with nervous excitement. Maybe he’d finally noticed me now?
Nope.
Once again, his eyes glazed over as they quickly swept right over me and then off to the side.

Well, crap. I’d been right earlier.

Kaiden Cross no longer had any idea who I was.

Chapter 2

Kaiden

As I strutted around the stage like I owned the fucking joint—which to be fair, I practically did—I lapped up the screams and cheers. This was what made the fighting worth it for me; this was what I’d spent all these years doing it for. There was no better feeling than hundreds of people cheering for you and screaming your name. It just made the ego explode like nothing else ever could, and that’s exactly what it was doing to me in this moment.

I threw my arms up above my head, riling up the crowd and drumming up the noise level. If my ears weren’t ringing for days after a fight, then I classed it as a shitty night.

I acted like I was making eye contact with everyone, but really I was just scouting the arena for the hottest chicks. That was the other great thing about being as famous as I was. I could have anyone I wanted, and for a kid that was too geeky to get any female attention in my youth, it was like a fucking dream, and one that I’d taken full advantage of in the last few years. I may have been a late bloomer, but I’d more than made up the numbers since.

I wasn’t too fussy about who I took to bed, either. I wanted to experience all sorts of different women—blonde, brunette, redheaded, busty, curvy, skinny…I loved them all, and luckily, they fucking loved me in return.

As I gazed around, my eyes found someone who was oddly familiar, and I was struck by a strange sensation; sort of what I imagined it felt like to see a ghost. My heart leaped into my mouth, and my hands started to feel stiff and numb. I forced my eyes away because I didn’t want to be caught staring at her, but my brain was whirling, panicking and trying to confirm what I thought I’d seen. Or
who
I thought I’d seen, to be more specific.

Riley Solis? No fucking way…

I allowed myself to fixate on a perky pair of breasts that were being flashed my way. They were obviously fake and had nipple rings hanging from them, so I focused on the silver glint while I tried to make myself think straight about who I thought I’d seen in the front row. Surely someone like Riley wouldn’t be caught dead at a trashy MMA fight, unless she’d seriously changed since we were kids.

Suddenly a conversation that I’d had only a few hours ago flashed in my mind.

“We’ve sorted you a new PR firm, Kaiden,” Mike said. He was my manager, and he’d been with me for two years now.

“Yeah?” I replied, mostly disinterested. I wasn’t paid to care about shit like that; it was his job.

“Yeah. We need to get this situation with Serra under control, and the old firm wasn’t doing shit for you.”

“You don’t say.” My sarcastic tone was the complete opposite of his calm, collected manner, but that’s why I need someone like him on my side, being the irrational hothead that I was.

“It’s the Wenden and Brown firm from downtown. I think they said your new agent’s name was Riley…something. Can’t remember the last name. Anyway, she’s young
—
around
your age, actually
—
but she’s one of the best social media-oriented PR agents around.”

“She, huh?” I said.

I flashed a knowing grin at him. Normally Mike only had men working with me because he knew I’d probably end up screwing all the female employees and making things awkward, and I’d already destroyed more than one contract in that way.

“Leave it,” he said in a warning tone. “We need her. So don’t fuck her.”

At the time, I’d laughed it off and hadn’t thought about it since, but now, I couldn’t help but think that the Riley he’d been talking about then was the same Riley that I once knew—the one from my childhood.
My best friend.

I tried to think back to which seat he’d said my new agent would be sitting in. 7A? No…8A. I finally allowed my eyes to skim back briefly, just to confirm that it was in fact Riley Solis.

Holy shit.

It
was
her, and she was sitting in seat 8A. So she was my new PR rep after all.

I flicked my gaze away again, allowing no recognition to cross my face. I couldn’t let this chick know that I remembered her. Working with her was going to be awkward enough, especially when I thought about all that we’d gone through as kids. What the hell was she going to think of what I’d become? She certainly wasn’t going to be proud, that was for sure, and for the first time since the fame had started to go to my head, I viewed myself in another way; through the eyes of my childhood friend.

And it didn’t feel good.

Shit, I had to stop thinking this way. I had a fight to win and I couldn’t allow myself to get distracted. My opponent Mac Brydie had always been a fierce fighter, and I needed to be on top of my game if I wanted to pound him into the ground and remain a champion.

I swallowed all of my emotions, getting my mind back to the place that it needed to be before wandering into the center of the cage and flexing my muscles. I turned slowly so everyone could see, and then grinned widely before kissing my biceps, a move that I knew would send the ladies wild. I was proven right by the feminine screams that almost took the roof off.

I had to force my eyes to stay firmly where they were, because they were absolutely desperate to see if Riley Solis was one of the girls who was yelling for me. I doubted it, though.

Mac and I got into our positions, staring at one another across the cage. If the circumstances were different, it was likely that Mac and I would have been friends, but we were fighting opponents, so that would probably never happen. Early on in this line of work, I’d decided I wanted to know as little as possible about the real lives of the guys I had to take on in the cage, because I always wanted to be able to fight like an animal. Any humanizing of the person I was punching, and I wouldn’t find it quite so easy.

I allowed my mind to cloud, and my inner demons began to take over.

“Round one!” the announcer yelled, and the place blew up with whoops and cheers.

I stood back, knowing exactly what Mac intended to do. He may have been ripped as fuck and heavier than me, but I already knew that I was going to beat him, because every move he intended to make was written all over his face. He hadn’t yet developed the stoic, poker face that was necessary for surprise attacks.

As soon as he flew at me, all pumped with his fists raised, I went in for the kill. I kicked out, aiming for the nearest spot to his groin without actually connecting. I knew this move was cheeky as fuck, and
almost
against the rules, but that’s why I wanted to do it. I wanted to see where the referee’s head was at, and how much I was going to be able to get away with.

If I got a warning, I would be able to argue it, but if I got nothing, then I would know that he wasn’t decent at his job. I’d then be able to fight as close to the line as possible—just the way I liked it.

“Jesus...” Mac grunted and stumbled backwards, clearly surprised by my assault.

I smiled smugly to myself at this.
That’s how you do it, you fool,
I wanted to say.
Don’t wear your emotions on your sleeve, for everyone to see. Especially not your opponent. Idiot.

The ref blew a sharp whistle but didn’t pull me up for my move, and I nodded to myself, knowing where I was. I could go a little bit over the top, but not the whole way. Perfect.

This time, I made the attack first. I raced towards Mac while he was still planning his next move, and I planted my first punch. As my fist connected with his skin, adrenaline coursed through my veins, pumping me up even more. It always felt fucking amazing to hit someone with all my might. There was nothing else in the world quite like it.

As Mac’s head snapped backwards, I pulled out my other fist to use that one too. He pushed me back with his elbow, preventing me from hitting again, and a red mist descended in front of my eyes.

Fuck. I should’ve seen that coming.

The anger did me no favors, because it gave Mac a second to lay a few hits on me too. I couldn’t see because he was moving so quickly, but I heard a loud crack as a hot burst of pain spread across my face, which told me that my nose was bleeding, possibly even broken. I didn’t let it bother me, though; that was just one of the side effects of this business.

Seeing Riley Solis in the crowd of spectators had thrown me off my game, and I knew I needed to do something
unless I wanted to end up completely humiliated, so I flailed my fists out too, just trying to defend myself. This may have looked like shit to the audience, but this moment wasn’t about them. This was about self-defense, about getting back the control. I couldn’t stand losing that, not even for a minute, or I’d lose.

It took a few hits, but finally I found him, and as soon as I did, Mac grabbed me, dragging me down towards the ground. Before I hit the floor, I swung my arm backwards, which knocked him off me. This all happened quickly, but it felt like slow motion to me.

I stood upwards slowly, knowing that the crowd would be going wild at this point. Now that I was all right again and back on top, I wanted this to be great for them. I couldn’t hear them, though. I couldn’t hear anyone. As soon as I centered in on the fight, everything else vanished. It had to in order for me to survive. The entire world had to become just me and whoever I was up against.

Okay, Kaiden. Let’s fucking end this,
I told myself.

I spun quickly, propelling myself forward, and Mac and I started to fight in more of a technical style. The beauty of MMA was that it was mixed martial arts—you could do almost anything that you wanted. I’d been trained in boxing, jujitsu, karate, wrestling, taekwondo, judo…you name it, and I’d done it. Now, I was using that training to my advantage as I fought Mac. We grappled, we threw out strikes, we brawled, and we attacked each other from every possible angle, practically at the speed of light.

I started to work out where Mac was going. He wanted to pin me and force me into submission—that was obviously his whole game plan. He was planning on forcing me into a corner so that submitting would be my only choice, but he could get fucked if he thought that was actually going to happen.
He
was going to be the one pinned to the ground, not me, and he would be the one giving in and submitting to me.

I used the anger that he inspired within me to throw an even harder punch. I needed to knock him to the ground, and I needed to do it as soon as possible. As he started to tumble, I wrapped my arms around him and forced him onto his stomach. He may have been bigger than me, but that only made him hit the ground harder.

His head smacked against the floor with a thump, and blood started to spurt from his nose in all directions, which was a good sign. It gave me the time I needed to pin him down while he was dazed and confused.

He struggled beneath me, trying desperately to pull free, but I was kneeling on both of his arms, giving him very little to fight with. I pressed my knees in hard, putting him through agonizing pain, forcing him to do exactly what I wanted.

“Fuck, I’m out…I’m out!” he finally yelled, sounding defeated as hell.

A sharp whistle blasted and I jumped up victoriously. Noise burst back into my ears as the crowd cheered, and I paraded around, showboating and riding the high of a victorious round one. If the rest of the fight went as well as this one had, then I’d be one happy man.

“Yeah!” I roared at the crowd. “Come on!”

“Kaiden.” The firm tone of the referee brought me right back down to Earth with a thump. “Take it down a notch, man.”

“Yes,
mommy
.” I grinned sarcastically before grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat and blood from my face.

I grabbed the nearest bottle of water and sucked down the cool liquid, realizing just how dry my burning throat was. Mike was raving on to me about something, but I wasn’t taking in a single word he was saying. Instead I had my eyes concentrated on Mac. I was checking him over, trying to gauge how he was faring. If I could figure out where his head was at, then I could work out how many of the five rounds we were going to be going through. He was hurt after the first round, but it was mostly surface wounds. That was nothing to guys like us—he’d easily be able to fight through that.

I was more than happy to do all five rounds if necessary, of course. The more I got to fight, the better, as far as I was concerned. Fighting had always been my release; it was what I needed from life, and I loved this shit. Only problem was that more rounds meant more chances to be beaten, and I really didn’t want to lose. On the very rare occasion that I’d been beaten in the past, it left me in a slump for days.

It was obvious that Mac had been affected by the loss he’d just experienced, but it was slowly converting into something else, something that he intended to use to take me down.
Determination? Rage? Humiliation?
Probably a combination of all three.

I was gonna have to step it up if I wanted to get this shit done.

I took a deep breath, twisting my head from side to side, gearing myself up. I didn’t want this to go on for any longer than it needed to, and if I gave it my all now, then I could finish him and secure my win.

I rose up to my feet, feeling like a fucking god. I was already kicking ass, so all I needed to do now was take it up one level, and that was no trouble.