Body Lock: MMA Sports Romance (20 page)

I stalk back to my prep room and wait for the next fight.

Jans’ shoulder is bad. He can hide it all he wants but I know it. I saw the pain on his face when he used it. How long can he hold out? My stomach is a tight, sick, knot. It has to be long enough. His plan has to work because I don’t have one. If he fails, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I glance sideways at Sammy who’s laughing too loudly while pointing wildly with his glass. Revulsion grips me and my throat closes as I fight the urge to be sick. Cold sweat trickles down my spine. I can’t marry him. The thought of him touching me … I just can’t.

“So, Vinnie, it’d be a real bad thing if the fix was in on this fight and you know, we weren’t in on that fix,” Big Tony says so quietly I just barely hear it.

“What are you talking about, Tony?” Vinnie asks.

“Nothing, just musing, you know?”

“You’re fucking nuts,” Vinnie whispers back.

“Could be,” Tony says. “Could be. Just, between friends, it’d be a very bad thing.”

“You think I don’t know that? You think I’d fuck my friends?”

“I don’t think anything,” Tony says. “I’m just making conversation.”

What is going on there?
I wonder.

I watch the two men out of the corner of my eye. I don’t want to be seen as being too interested but my curiosity is killing me. Does Tony know Vinnie is having Jans throw the fight? The real money for Vinnie will only come from the fixed fight if all the other mobsters are betting on Jans to win. When Jans loses, Vinnie keeps all that cash from his own secret bets. If they found out, this could be good for us.

Sammy sidles up next to me once more and my skin crawls because he’s close. He runs a finger down the bare skin of my arm and I jerk back from his touch. He laughs like it’s the most amusing thing he’s ever seen.

“You’ll get used to it,” he says, leaning in with his lips puckered.

I slap him. It’s not planned or thought out I just react. He touches the red mark on his face and smiles bigger as he moves his jaw back and forth.

“You are going to be so much fun,” he says then leans in so close he’s whispering in my ear. “I’m going to break you. I will do things to you that you can’t even begin to imagine. Before I’m done, you’ll beg me.”

“You’ll never have me,” I growl pushing him back.

He steps back and shakes his head.

“I like the fight,” he says grabbing his crotch. I’m disgusted to see his hard on through his pants gripped in his hand. “That’s the only point of sex. It’s like fighting with an orgasm to top it off.”

“Jans is going to kill you,” I hiss.

“Oh? You think?” he moves in close again. “Let’s just see what happens to your boy tonight.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, fear running down my spine with an icy touch.

Sammy smiles and shakes his head then waves a finger in front of my face.

“You’d like to know, stupid bitch,” he says. “I ain’t snitching but let’s say your boy, he ain’t likely to make the end of this shindig.”

I close with Sammy until his onion filled breath overwhelms me.

“If anything happens to Jans, I’ll make sure you pay for it.”

The crowd cheers outside the box and the rest of the men inside move to their seats. The room is filled with the blue haze of their cigars making everything seem surreal. Sammy and I stare at each other. Every ounce of me wants to slap that smirk off his face. I finally come to terms with the fact that the best thing I can do right now is nothing. Here, in this room, surrounded by these men, I have no options.

I take my seat and turn to watch Jans’ next fight. Sammy sits next to me chuckling. When he puts his hand on my thigh my muscles tense but I don’t move it away. I’m not going to play into his game.

Jans is already in the octagon and his opponent has just been announced as ‘the Tiger.’ This one’s a black man, lithe and well defined. He bounces on the soles of his feet pointing at Jans. The bruise on Jans’ shoulder looks worse. The blue and purple now edge towards black. I gasp looking at it. He’s holding the arm close to his side and I can only imagine how much it hurts. An ache in my chest pounds in time with my heart as I watch my man, my warrior, fighting for us. My love for him has no bounds.

The ref calls the two men to the center and then the fight is on. They circle, jabbing with feints and jabs. Jans doesn’t use his left, holding it tightly against his body. His opponent repeatedly feints and tries to get punches in on that side. Jans does a good job of protecting himself but still takes several hits and each one of them makes me wince in sympathetic pain.

They dance around each other longer than Jans would normally allow. He likes a fast take down. While I know his stamina can handle a longer match he's always told me why play around? He says every moment a fight continues is a moment your opponent can turn it around. No matter how good you are everyone can be surprised. It only takes one slip, one mistake to lose and Jans doesn't lose.

His opponent dances back when Jans swings and the punch goes wide leaving him open. The opportunity isn’t missed. The Tiger charges underneath Jans’ extended right arm and hooks his shoulder into his rib cage. He swings with his left arm hitting the wounded shoulder. Jans rocks back but as he steps his opponent is able to get his leg behind and drops him to the ground. Everybody in the box jumps to their feet and screams, the crowd is going wild. Jans is in serious trouble.

My stomach ties into a tight knot. Is this it? Will this be the time that he loses?

The two men struggle on top of each other. Jans tries to break free but his opponent keeps him pinned. I've seen this before but it's always been Jans on top. The minutes stretch into small eternities and I can't breathe. The two men are locked with each other, neither able to gain an edge. The darker man is on top and pounds repeatedly going after the wounded shoulder. Then somehow, in a move so fast I don't know how it happens, Jans breaks free of the hold and rolls, coming to his feet a short distance away. The Tiger doesn't give him time to recover, closing the distance immediately. Jans, somehow, is prepared and brings his knee up just as his opponent reaches him. The other man is bent low intending to take Jans in the gut again but Jans’ knee connects with his jaw. Jans then drops down bringing his elbow crashing into his opponent’s back. The man drops to the ground and doesn't move. Jans slowly rises to his feet then wobbles unsteadily.

The crowd is so loud that it makes my ears ring.

"Did you fucking see that!" someone in the booth with us yells.

"I can't fucking believe it," another man answers.

Sammy leans in close and whispers once more in my ear. "Just wait. It ain't over yet."

He grabs my breast and I push him away. He's a disgusting pig. When Jans gets a hold of him, he’ll pay for everything he's put me through tonight.

Jans is led from the ring. Thirty more minutes and then another fight. This is the one that everybody's been murmuring about. This is the one that Jans is supposed to throw. I look over and catch Vinnie staring at me with his cold, dead, empty eyes. Sammy slides his hand up my thigh and cups me at my middle. I shove him to one side hard and he almost falls out of his chair. Vinnie watches it all emotionless, so much for being the loving father, a role he was never suited for.

"This next fight is going to be interesting," Tony is saying to Vinnie.

"I heard this guy is an old pro," Vinnie responds.

"He's not an old pro," Tony says. "He's the reigning fucking world champion."

My stomach sinks over the top of a roller coaster. The entire room spins around me. Jans is already hurt and this is his fourth fight of the night. If he's going up against a pro, what chance does he have?

Fucking bastard kept going after my shoulder. The joy of underground fighting, there are no rules. Dr. Chris packs my arm in ice again after examining it.

"You want something for the pain?" he asks.

I stare at him. I can't let anything dull my edge. He shakes his head and holds his hands up.

"Hey, I'm just asking."

"Well, you can stop," I say.

He returns to attending to my shoulder and making sure the ice packs are in place. After he’s done I move over to the table and lay down to let my masseuse work on my muscles.

"I heard the next guy’s a real bitch," Dr. Chris says.

"What have you heard?" I ask.

"He’s the world champion from the pro circuit," he replies.

"That ain’t shit to me," I say.

"Yeah, but he’s a berserker."

"What's his name?" I ask.

"Ken Sharman," he replies.

"Are you shitting me?" I ask.

Ken Sharman is good but more than that he’s fucking crazy. I’m supposed to throw this fight but even if I’m trying to win, he might kill me.

"No. He killed a man when he was fighting underground," Dr. Chris says.

Fuck me. If I wasn’t injured, I wouldn’t worry if I could do this. The doc is right though, this guy’s an animal. I've seen him take a beating that would put any other man in a grave and he kept going. He won his last fight with his right arm broken in three places and his other shoulder dislocated. They want to me to fight the best and they found him. What the hell did they offer him to do this? I withdraw to my center and become the Dragon. The door opens and I glance up to see who's got the balls to come in and bother me. It’s just Lou.

"What the fuck do you want, Lou?" I ask.

He walks closer with that heavy, thudding step of his. He's too big and slow and right now I don't want his shit because all his shit is Vinnie's mouth being run by another body.

"Boss wants me to check in," Lou says.

"Tell the boss to fuck off," I say.

"Boss wants to make sure you remember what happens," Lou says.

"Of course, I fucking remember."

Good," Lou says.

Lou is standing in the way of my masseuse and it’s pissing me off. I rise up to tell him to get the fuck away when something stabs me in my hip. It's a sharp momentary pain and I whirl and swing at Lou but he blocks it easily. Glancing down, there’s a syringe protruding from my side.

"The fuck did you do, Lou?"

"What the boss says," the big man replies.

Lou turns and plods out of the locker room without another word. I pull the syringe out and look at it. I don't feel high, or sick, or anything else. What the hell did they do to me? I look at Dr. Chris and he shakes his head holding his hands up again.

"I had no fucking idea," he says.

"What the fuck is it?"

"Enhancement drug?"

I can't tell what's going on in my body and it scares me. This is my finely honed tool, it does exactly what I tell it to, exactly when I want. Whatever Vinnie’s done, it’s slowing my reaction time. The muscles aren’t responding the way they should. There's a knock at the door and I'm given the one minute warning. Shit.

"I need something to counteract this," I yell.

"I don't know what the fuck it is," Dr. Chris says with panic in his voice.

"I don't either," I reply. "It's slowing me! Vinnie wants me to throw the fight. Whatever he just gave me is to make sure I lose."

"You’re fucking kidding me?"