Below the Belt (12 page)

“Except for the fact that they print it in a newspaper that just happens to go out to hundreds of thousands of people,” Jamie said.

Arthur swore, and Cooper spared a glance for the old man. His color was better, but he still looked agitated.

This was a huge psychological blow for Jamie, one that none of them had been prepared for.

“Let’s go find your change room,” he said.

She needed time to recover and process what had happened. He hoped a couple of hours was going to do it, because pretty soon she was going to be standing opposite a seasoned fighter who wanted nothing more than to wipe the canvas with Jamie’s face.

They walked toward the glowing exit sign on the farthest side of the auditorium. Cooper moved forward to open the door, but it swung toward him before he could grasp the handle and he was forced to take a step back. A tall figure filled the doorway.

Cooper heard Jamie make a small, surprised noise behind him.

Kyle Vandenburg smiled, his dark gaze zeroing in on Jamie. In contrast to her, he didn’t look even remotely surprised.

“Jimmy. It’s good to see you,” Vandenburg said.

Jamie’s face might have been carved from stone. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here with my girl, Liana,” he said. He angled his body so they could see the woman waiting impatiently behind him in the corridor.

Liana Nelson’s pale green eyes were belligerent as she surveyed them, a sneer on her lips.

Cooper had seen his fair share of psych-outs in his time, but this had to take the cake. Vandenburg had tipped off the media. Somehow, he must have gotten wind of Jamie’s fledgling career and decided to exploit her for all it was worth. The quick fight offer, Liana’s willingness to take on a virtual unknown—all of it made sense now. Jamie Holloway was no feather in Liana Nelson’s cap—but Jamie
Sawyer
was a whole other matter. Liana could milk the publicity on this bout for months, maybe even parlay it into a title shot.

“Looking forward to seeing you square up, Jimmy,” Vandenburg said. “Should be a good match.”

Cooper stepped forward. He’d never liked Vandenburg, and he liked him even less since finding out what he’d done to Jamie. Watching him stand there as though he and Jamie were still on speaking terms, as though he hadn’t set all this up to exploit her, made his blood boil.

“How about backing off?” Cooper said. “Before I make you.”

Vandenburg flicked his dark gaze Cooper’s way.

“Fitzgerald. I heard you’d been forced to retire. Bad luck, dude.”

“It won’t work,” Cooper said. “You think this is going to give your girl the edge? Jamie’s going to waste her, no matter what you try and throw at her. But then you never understood that fighting was all about heart, did you?”

Vandenburg’s eyes flashed and Liana shot him a look as though she was asking for permission to do something more than stand by. Cooper took another step forward, forcing Vandenburg to hold his ground and confront Cooper or back up into the corridor.

He chose the latter. Cooper waited until Jamie and Arthur had slipped past him and were heading for the change rooms before he relinquished his possession of the doorway.

Without a word or a backward glance, he followed Jamie. The first thing he saw when he walked into the change room was Jamie sitting on a bench, her head in her hands. Slowly she lifted her ashen face.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she said.

J
AMIE CLOSED HER EYES
and hunched lower on the bench.

She’d been so psyched for this fight. So ready to go out there and win. Even the words she’d had with Cooper before they’d left the motel hadn’t deterred her. If anything, they’d only reminded her of what she was fighting for.

Then she’d walked in the door of the auditorium and been bombarded by all those reporters. And Kyle…

She’d never wanted to see him again. Once she’d loved and trusted him totally, and he’d taken what he wanted and left her with nothing.

“So you’re just going to let Vandenburg scare you off, are you?” Cooper asked.

Her head shot up.

“Don’t try that amateur psychology crap on me, Cooper.”

He spread his hands wide. “I’m not trying anything. It’s the truth. Vandenburg purposely got this fight with you so he could pull all this off. Ambush you with the media, then rattle you by revealing himself. He wants to cash in on your name to win publicity for his girl, and he’s banking on you being so thrown by this circus he’s created that you’ll lose the fight. Or, even better, that you’ll pull out at the last minute, which will bring them even more publicity.”

He was right. But it didn’t stop the churning in her gut or the thoughts racing around her head.

“I just…I wasn’t ready for this,” she said. She hated that she sounded so shaken and small.

“Maybe we should pull out of the fight,” Arthur said. “I don’t like playing into that A-hole’s hands, but if you’re not up to this, Jimmy…”

Her grandfather’s face was pinched with concern. She had a sudden flash of how he’d looked during those scary, terrifying days in the hospital. How pale and fragile and infinitely precious to her.

“She’s up to it. Jamie’s one of the toughest people I know,” Cooper said.

He squatted in front of her, bringing his face to her level. He held her eye, his regard steady.

“Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go out and win that fight. Wipe the sneer off that steroid-junkie’s face. And you’re going to start doing what you set out to do—reclaiming your name.”

Staring into his eyes, she could almost see herself doing it, exactly as he’d described.

“It’s Jimmy’s decision,” her grandfather said. “If she’s not happy, I’m not happy.”

Cooper didn’t take his eyes off her face. She couldn’t look away from him.

She would hate herself if she backed out of this fight. She would feel like a victim again, the way she had when she’d discovered what Kyle and his business manager had done to her and her family.

But to have all those reporters watching, waiting for her to slip up. She’d always known this was coming. She’d imagined the moment of revelation a hundred times—but on her terms, not theirs.

“It doesn’t matter,” Cooper said as though he could read her mind. “You’ll never be able to control the press. Ignore them. This is a fight, nothing more, nothing less. You and Liana Nelson in that ring. Ten rounds, one winner. Sweat and blood and leather.”

She closed her eyes, struggling to do as he said and push everything else to one side. He was right, it didn’t matter. At the end of the day, tonight was about her and Liana Nelson. About which one of them was stronger, both physically and psychologically.

“Come on, warrior woman,” Cooper said, his voice so low she almost didn’t catch what he’d said.

She lifted her gaze from the floor and met his eyes again. Then she gave a short, sharp nod. His lips curled into a small, approving smile. He braced his hands against his thighs and pushed himself to his feet.

“Let’s get you taped and warmed up,” he said.

Taking a deep breath, Jamie let it go on a sigh, consciously letting all the stress of the past half hour slide away with it. She’d come here to fight, and that was what she was going to do.

For the next hour, she warmed up. Skipping, shadow boxing, sit-ups, working with the focus mitts. Cooper talked to her quietly the entire time about Liana’s weaknesses, the areas where Jamie could attack, things to look out for. When she was warm and loose, she stripped down to her underwear and Cooper gave her a brisk rubdown on the massage table the organizers had provided. For the first time, his touch did not set her world on fire. His hands were firm, warm, strong, but his touch was impersonal. Her mind was focused only on the battle to come. There was no room for anything else.

As he worked her muscles, Cooper reminded her of all the training they’d put in. All the hours of sweat and effort. He told her she was strong and fast and accurate. He reminded her of the sparring sessions she’d won against Mick in the gym, of her endurance and her power. The world shrank until there was just the deep reassurance of his voice and the feel of his hands on her body.

Her body shiny with oil, she dressed in her fight trunks and sports crop, ensuring her chest guard was fitted properly. She put her boots on, then watched Cooper tape the laces down so that they didn’t come undone during the fight. Finally she sat on the edge of the table and waited as Cooper wrapped her hands.

“How does that feel?” he asked.

She flexed both hands into fists. “Good.”

Cooper slid her gloves on and secured the laces, taping them down. Holding her chin in one hand, he rubbed Vaseline across her face, concentrating on her brow and cheekbones. They were so close she could see the individual whiskers of his stubble and feel his breath on her face each time he exhaled. She could see how long and dark his eyelashes were and trace the bump on his nose. She remembered the story he’d told her that night when they waited for her car to be towed, about the first time he’d had it broken in the ring.

The silence stretched. She closed her eyes to avoid looking at him.

“It’d be ironic if this stuff turned out to be great for my complexion, huh?” she said.

Anything to dispel the growing sense of intimacy. She had enough crap whirling around in her head without adding more confusion to the mix.

“Even if it was, I think it’s safe to say that getting smacked in the face a few dozen times is going to cancel that out,” Cooper said.

“Yeah, well, there’s always that,” she said.

When she opened her eyes again, he was watching her intently.

“Keep your guard up, okay? I don’t ever want to see that hand dropping. You protect yourself every second,” he said.

Something flashed deep in his eyes, something protective and fierce. She looked away.

His hand landed on her back, heavy and warm.

“You’re a fighter, Jamie. Take it up to her, make her angry, then lay her out.”

She nodded, then slid off the massage table. Her grandfather had watched from a chair against the wall throughout, but he stood now and made two fists with his hands.

“You go get ’em, Spitfire,” he said, tapping his fists against her gloves.

She laughed. “Spitfire?”

“Every boxer needs a name,” her grandfather said. “Jamie Spitfire Sawyer sounds pretty good to me.”

A knock sounded on the door. The referee entered, neat in his black pants, white shirt and bow tie.

For the next five minutes, he explained the rules of the bout to Jamie, all standard. Before he exited, he warned that they were only minutes away from fight time.

“Let’s go,” Cooper said. He gathered up his kit.

Her grandfather had filled a small bucket with ice, and he grabbed the larger spit bucket. Cooper stopped to drape a towel over Jamie’s shoulders to keep her warm.

“Need to get you a robe,” he said.

She shrugged. Nerves were beating a tattoo in her belly. She felt as though she’d swallowed a bolt of lightning and the energy was crackling around inside her, desperate to find a way out.

Then they were walking the long corridor to the auditorium. She could hear the sound of the crowd, the music, the announcements.

Cooper held the door for her. She brushed past him and stepped into the bright circle of a spotlight that pinned her to the floor and tracked her as she made her way down the wide aisle to the ring. The crowd began to roar. She couldn’t tell what they were yelling, but she could feel the energy of their attention and anticipation. The last two times she’d fought, she’d fed off the buzz of the crowd. Tonight she felt exposed, uncertain. They knew who she was now, who her father had been. They’d be watching, wondering.

The ring loomed before her. Cooper moved ahead to hold the ropes open and she slid into the ring. She was alone on the canvas square, the glare of the lights and cameras and thousands of eyes on her as she danced from foot to foot. She rolled her shoulders, working to keep her breathing steady and even, despite the fact that every instinct was screaming at her to gasp for air and run, run, run.

The sound of the crowd intensified and she guessed that Liana was making her way to the ring. Jamie turned her back. The other woman would be posturing, showing off, trying to psych Jamie out some more. Deliberately, Jamie did a slow circuit of the ring, jogging from foot to foot as she mapped out her territory.

Even when Liana entered the ring she didn’t give the other woman her attention. Right now, she was irrelevant. This time was about Jamie getting her head right, setting herself up to focus and think and act when the bell rang.

The MC began to make the announcements. Jamie noted that they’d changed her name from Holloway to Sawyer on the bill.

It was official. Her journey of redemption had begun.

“Jamie.” Cooper gestured her toward her corner.

She crossed to him, keeping her feet moving, staying warm all the while. He handed her the mouthpiece, tugged the towel off her shoulders, checked her gloves again and smoothed a little more Vaseline onto her cheekbones. Then he grabbed her gloves and held her eye.

“You can do this. You’ve got the power, you’ve got the will, you’ve got the skill. Make it happen.”

“Okay,” she said. She felt as though she was making a promise or taking an oath.

Cooper hesitated a moment. Then he slapped a hand onto her shoulder and squeezed her once, firmly, before stepping away.

She sought her grandfather’s face in the crowd beside the ring and found him standing to one side. He gave her a stern-faced nod of acknowledgement. She made him a mental promise:
For you, Grandpa. This one’s for you.

Then she turned around and took her first good, long look at her opponent. Liana Nelson was big and broad. She had rounded, muscular arms and a flat, wide face with hard pale green eyes framed by short, spiky blond hair. Abdominal muscles rippled down her belly, and her thighs and calves were thick with muscle.

She eyeballed Jamie straight back, her top lip curling into a sneer.

Jamie bumped her gloves together. She’d seen that sneer one too many times today. First chance she got, she was going to smack the hell out of it.

Kyle stood behind Liana’s corner. Holding onto the ropes, he leaned forward and fed Liana last minute instructions. Jamie locked eyes with him briefly as he stepped down from the ring. Once, she’d let him screw her over. Tonight she was going to show him she was nobody’s victim.

The ref called her into the center of the canvas. She stood quietly as he told them to keep the fight clean. Liana kept up her intense eye work. Jamie stayed cool. She could tell it pissed her opponent off.

Good.

They tapped gloves and retreated to their corners. Jamie caught sight of Cooper standing below, his arms crossed over his chest, his legs spread wide. He looked immovable, carved from granite. A hard man who’d won all his battles.

And he was on her side. It was a little scary to realize how much that meant to her. She turned back to face the ring and brought her fists up. Her breathing loud inside her own head, she waited for the bell to ring.

The reverberating clang seemed to hang forever in the air. Jamie moved forward, ready to take the fight up to her opponent. Liana met her halfway, fist first. Jamie blocked a jab to her face and a cross to her ribs before getting in a combination of her own. Liana’s head rocked on her neck and she blinked quickly. Her green gaze took on a harder, angrier light. Pressing forward, Liana went on the attack. Jamie blocked as best she could, but it was impossible to deflect all her blows. Her head snapped back once, twice. She lost breath as her opponent’s fist found her belly. Sucking air, Jamie shook her head. She forced the pain into the furthest corner of her mind. It was good for one thing and one thing only—keeping her focused, reminding her that this was a battle, and that only the strongest would survive.

Keeping her guard hand up, Jamie went on the attack again.

C
OOPER’S HANDS
were fisted against his rib cage, his arms locked rigidly across his chest.

Even hearing that his boxing career was over felt like a walk in the park compared to watching Jamie get pounded with hit after hit. Everything in him wanted to bound into the ring and protect her from the blows raining down on her.

But this was boxing. This was what Jamie wanted. What she needed to purge her soul and fulfill her promise to her grandfather. Cooper had no choice but to sit back and watch and hope that she found what she was looking for inside the ring.

The crowd roared as Liana landed a strong jab on the side of Jamie’s head. Jamie staggered, then threw herself straight back into the attack.

Cooper’s shoulders tensed as Jamie concentrated on the other woman’s body, pounding her with jabs and crosses, looking for an opening. Liana was fast and damned resilient. She bore up under the assault, closing the distance between them and grabbing Jamie in a clinch to stop her attack. The two women swayed, locked together in an angry, sweaty embrace. The ref stepped forward, ordering them to break. As Jamie relinquished her grip, Liana whipped a jab across the space that separated them, catching Jamie on the chin unaware.

Cooper bellowed with outrage. The ref shook his head and held up a hand to signal he was giving Liana a warning for a foul hit.

Jamie blinked. She shook her head, then once again took up her stance. Cooper felt a swell of pride. Tough and beautiful—no wonder she rocked his world.