Fight 2 (7 page)

Chapter 13

Eddie

Sitting down at the table, I’m contemplating asking her to stop fighting. She said she’d do anything for me, and if I want one thing out of her, it’s to stop fighting. I can’t do it, though. I can’t ask her to stop the one thing that helped her when her dad died.

“Stay here tonight,” I say instead, watching her attempt to dunk her cookie for the perfect amount of time without losing it in her milk.

So far she’s failed twice.

“Really?” she asks, whipping her head up to look at me. “Shit!” She lifts what’s left of her cookie out of her mug and I laugh.

“Yes, really. And your milk is going to be absolutely fantastic when you are done ruining your cookies.” I smile and chuckle at how cute she looks, pouting from losing yet another cookie.

“Truth right there, Tex. And I mean... sure, I can stay. As long as it’s not too much. We’ve been together a lot lately, you aren’t getting tired of me yet?” Her smile is so fucking beautiful.

“Never, babe.”

“Ok, then yea. That’s perfect, I sleep so much better with you in bed with me. I just have to be out of here by lunch, I have a meeting with my trainer.” Her eyes drift down when she talks of her trainer, like she knows how I feel about her job.

“You fighting tomorrow?” I ask, praying that it’s just a workout or something.

“I don’t know, really. He called earlier, wants me to meet him tomorrow for something, he didn’t tell me what.” She shrugs and attempts another cookie, this time getting it perfect.

I nod, taking in the information, then mentally setting it on fire. Fuck that. I wish I could just ask her to stop. She would. She said she’d do it for me.

I can’t, though. As much as I want to, I can’t. It just wouldn’t be fair.

We finish up our late night snack, moaning because both of us ate way too many cookies.

“Soo... bedtime?” She yawns and stretches her arms over her head.

“Yea, definitely bedtime,” I say, leaving the mess on the table to clean up tomorrow.

I need this girl in bed, and I need her to never leave it.

***

The next morning I wake up before Red, so I head in the kitchen to clear the table and make us coffee. It’s almost eleven, which means she’s going to be leaving me soon, and I hate the thought of not being with her. Shit, this is getting crazy, I should be fine without her today. I have plenty of work to do. The break from her will be nice, right?

Bringing in her coffee, she stirs as the door handle clicks shut behind me.

“Hey, babe,” I say as I set our coffees on the side table and brush my hand up and down her bare arm.

“Mmm... nooo. Too early,” she grumbles, then turns away from me, burying her face in the pillow.

“Red, it’s eleven. As much as I would love to keep you in my bed all day, you have somewhere to be.”

I keep rubbing her back, but I probably should stop. Her skin is so fucking smooth, and the tattoos she has on her back are so fucking beautiful. Stars run down her left shoulder blade and wrap around her ribcage, all black, all different sizes. There’s a bluebird sitting on her right shoulder blade, and the start of what looks like a tree next to it. Every breath she takes, she moans as she lets it out. Fuck me.

“Woman, if you don’t want to be late, you will get up right now. I can’t promise I can take those noises much longer.” Especially since I’m already starting to get hard, just looking at her.

She huffs and rolls over, resting one arm above her head. I glance at the tattoo under her ribcage, the one she doesn’t know what it means, and laugh to myself.

“I brought you coffee, chill.”

“Oh good, I was going to have to murder you for waking me up before caffeine was ready.” She smirks at me, taking the cup and sipping. She moans with every sip, and every sip I get harder and harder.

“Red,” I growl, looking at her. She fucking knows what she’s doing.

“What?” She feigns innocence, but I know better.

“Jesus...” I say, as I get up and leave the room. If she didn’t have a meeting she was going to be late to, I would have taken her already. Unfortunately, I can’t stand when people are late, so she has to leave, and soon.

She walks into the room, wearing my shirt and nothing else, holding the coffee in one hand and her clothes in the other.

“So, I’m not calling this the walk of shame. One, because I’m not wearing my clothes from last night and, two, because there’s no shame in what we did last night,” she announces as she walks through the hallway and towards the kitchen.

I laugh and take her in my arms, careful to set her coffee down beforehand.

“God, baby, I fucking love you,” I say. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to saying it to her, but I’m going to use it as much as I can until she tells me to stop. And I pray she never tells me to stop.

“Mmm, I think I might like you, too,” she jokes. Such a smartass, and I love every fucking second of it.

“Well good, at least you don’t hate me yet.” I smile into her neck, hugging her tightly, not wanting to let go.

“Hey… I gotta run, Tex,” she says into my chest. I sigh and let go of her.

“Text when you are finished, ok? And if you fight, Red, I need to know.”

She looks at me curiously, like she knows I hate the fighting and wonders why I would want to know.

“I need to know you are safe. If you fight... I have to be there.” The words are hard to get out, but they are the truth. I don’t want to be there, but I’d have to. I don’t think I could stand waiting at home while she’s out there possibly getting the shit beat out of her.

She nods her head, leans in and kisses me, then opens the door to leave, turning back one more time before leaving.

“I promise, Tex. You’ll be the first to know.” She smiles and shuts the door behind her, leaving me with an empty apartment that smells like vanilla and cookies.

Running my hands over my hair, I walk to the bathroom and hop in the shower to wake up a little more. It’s almost noon already and I feel like I haven’t slept a wink. I need to get some work done today, really, but all I want to do is go back to bed. I’ve never had a night that full of sex before, and I’ve had some crazy nights. Nothing compares to what we did last night, though. She was so trusting, so willing, so fucking hot. I couldn’t have her just once, so we stayed up until three in the morning exploring one another. I didn’t tie her again, I didn’t want to. I wanted her to be able to give as much as she wanted to.

Getting out of the shower, I hear my phone ringing from the bedroom where it was still plugged in. It’s not Tatum’s ringtone, so I don’t rush to answer it. It’s only been twenty minutes since she left, so it wouldn’t be her already. Opting to ignore whoever it is, I head into the kitchen to finish up the cleaning then head over to my desk to start some work.

I sit at that damn desk for fifteen minutes before realizing that I haven’t even turned on the computers. Shit! I’ve been daydreaming of her this entire time, and I’m not going to get any work done until I know she’s safe. Pushing myself back from my desk, I walk in to my bedroom to my unmade bed and smile, remembering everything we did last night. Sitting on the side of the bed, I unlock my phone and check the missed calls. Wrong number, apparently, because every number I know is saved in my phone, and I’ve never seen this one before. Good, now I don’t feel as bad for ignoring it.

I pull up messages and shoot Red a text, just seeing how her day is going. That’s not pathetic, right? She only left a couple of hours ago and I’m already texting. Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t do that. Maybe I need to get out of this apartment before I go nuts. Deciding work can wait, at least for now, I grab my shoes and keys and head downstairs to the bar.

It’s the middle of the afternoon and the bar is surprisingly busy. I grab a seat at a booth for some peace and quiet, then suddenly decide that’s the last thing my mind needs right now. Moving to the bar, I grab a stool and sit down a few seats down from an old guy with his head down. Ordering a beer, I tap my fingers to the music while watching one of the many TV’s in front of me.

My drink comes, and I hear the bartender talk to the other man at the bar.

“You’re here early today. Same as always?”

I see the man nod out of the corner of my eye, then the bartender sets a Stag in front of him. Stag beer, nothing quite like it. It’s not terrible, but it’s what he drank every day after work, so I’ve never been able to stomach it.

I chance a glance at the man, who still hasn’t lifted his head up, and wonder what his story is.

I don’t have too long to think about it, though, because as soon as I finish my first drink, my phone buzzes.

RED: Sorry, busy so far. Miss you. Fighting tonight
.

Chapter 14

Gwynn

I arrive at the gym with five minutes to spare. Happy with my timing, I head over to the punching bag to take out some frustrations from having to be here too early. It doesn’t take long for the other people around me to stop and watch. I don’t care, I hit and hit and kick and hit and take it all out.

“Better not do too much of that, you’re gonna need energy tonight,” I hear a voice say from behind me.

I freeze. I know what voice.

Tanya Wright, the meanest MMA fighter in our area. She normally trains at a bigger gym across town. What is she doing here, talking to me like she knows something I don’t? Turning to look at her, I see her leaning against the wall, arms crossed, scowl on her face.

“Excuse me?” I say, wiping the sweat off my brow.

“Just sayin, don’t get too tired.” She walks off, shaking her head, mumbling something about it being a ‘fucking joke’.

Pissed, and expecting answers, I storm into the office.

“What the fuck, Mac, why is that bitch here?” I demand, as Mac sits at his desk going over numbers.

He doesn’t look up at me, he doesn’t say anything, he just laughs and shakes his head as he finishes up with the page he’s on. Waiting as impatiently as I can, my arms crossed, hip out, I’m pissed. If he put me up against her I’m going to be livid. She’s way out of my fucking weight class, and so much better than I would ever wish to be, partly because I don’t like to cheat, and Tanya doesn’t like to play by the rules. He finally finishes up and looks at me.

“You fight her tonight. Pull a stunt like you did this weekend, canceling a fight, not practicing, not giving me the time of day to answer my calls, and you will find yourself fighting more than Tanya,” he sneers at me a slimy smile.

“What the hell, Mac!? That’s not right, you know she’s going to kick my ass! This is illegal!”

“Sweetheart, what we are doing here is illegal, I’m sure the police would love to hear of all the money you won off of illegally betting on yourself.” His eyebrows raise, he’s got me, and he fucking knows it. “You are locked in for four more fights. No way out of it, baby doll. Pull something like this past weekend again and you will regret it.”

“Fuck that, Mac. I’m not fighting her,” I say, and I turn to leave.

I make it to the door, and almost out of it, when his voice booms at me.

“My oh my, we have grown ballsy haven’t we? Four fights, Gwynn, with anyone I pair you with. You don’t cross me. Nine tonight, get there a half hour early, Sam’s Pub on 8
th
street. He’s got a setup in the basement we are using.”

I flip him off and leave his office, heading back to the bag. I know I should save my strength for tonight, but I’m so pissed that if I leave now I’ll be too riled up by the time the fight comes to really concentrate. Jesus Christ, what have I gotten myself into with Mac? He’s been amazing so far, always helping me out, not pairing me with anyone too over the top, but it seems as if he’s snapped. He went from being the nice trainer that seemed to care if I won or lost, seemed to care about my overall health, to someone who couldn’t care less about his fighter. Fuck!

Ripping my gloves off, I slam them to the ground and sit on a nearby bench. Heaving breaths from the thirty minute, non stop, attack on the bag. At this rate I’ll be too tired to fight tonight, then maybe all it will take is one good hit to have me down and they will call it. Fuck, I’ve never thought of throwing a fight, but at this point it’s my only option.

Son of a bitch, I forgot about Eddie. I promised him he would know if I had a fight. Thing is, I know he wants to watch, but I don’t want him to be there tonight. I don’t want him to see me lose, to see me throw a fight. It isn’t something I’m going to be too proud of, and it isn’t going to be pretty, but it has to happen. If I fight Tanya, really fight her, it could go a few rounds of her beating on me before I’m down. If I throw it, I could be back in Eddie’s arms after a few minutes.

Walking over to my bag, I see Tanya in Mac’s office, and I wonder to myself if he’s vetting to train her. Trying to steal her from her trainer. I heard there was a power shuffle in her gym, maybe Mac is trying to grab her before she gets in with someone else. Maybe that’s what tonight is really about, just seeing how good she fights. To hell with that, everyone knows how good she fights. Whether the right way or the wrong way, this being an underground circuit there isn’t much I can do about it. I get my phone out and see I have a text from him from about an hour ago. Smiling to myself, I wish I could just leave and go back to the apartment to be with him. Unfortunately, that’s not an option right now. I’m not sure Mac would let me leave even if I tried. I shoot him a text, informing him I’m ok, and that I do, indeed, have a fight tonight. I don’t give him any other information. I don’t tell him to meet me there. I don’t tell him anything about it, because I don’t want him there.

Any other fight I’d be happy if he were there, because any other normal fight I have a good chance of winning. Tonight, though, I most definitely do not have any chances of winning. Winning tonight will be walking out of that basement on my own two feet, which isn’t a very high probability. I’ve watched Tanya’s fights, and even when her opponent is down, she wails with all her fucking might. Every hit you can hear the crunching, see the blood fly; she doesn’t stop until the bell rings, and sometimes she even gets a hit or two in after it. No one has ever called her out on it, though, afraid of crossing her in the street I guess.

My phone dings almost instantly.

EDDIE: Tell me when and where, Red.

Shit
.

I sigh, not wanting him to be there, but not wanting to lie to him either. I know if I tell him he’s going to be there, and it’s just going to make it worse when I lose. I can’t push him away, though. He is changing his beliefs for us, for me. Instead of having this conversation over texts, I take my phone outside and sit on a bench a few store fronts down from the gym. Dialing his number, he picks up on the second ring.

“Hey, you ok?” His voice is so full or worry that I feel terrible for what I’m about to tell him.

“Honestly, no. Mac paired me with a girl that’s way out of my fucking league. He’s pissed about this weekend, so he’s punishing me apparently.”

“What the hell do you mean ‘punishing you’, Red?” Eddie’s voice deepens as he finishes the question.

“Fuck, Eddie... I mean... Shit, I mean I’m throwing the fucking fight. She’ll beat the shit out of me anyway, at least this way it’ll go fast,” I say quietly, in case anyone around me puts two and two together.

“But you are still going to fight her? You can’t just not show up?” he asks. I laugh, because he just doesn’t get it. I can’t bail on Mac. There’s no getting out of his contract until it’s fulfilled.

“No. I have to be there. I have to show my face. I’m sorry,” I say, because I feel like I’ve completely disappointed him.

“Where is it? I want to be there.”

“No, Eddie. I don’t want you there. I don’t want you seeing me in one of my worst moments in my career. Please.”

“I don’t give a damn, I’d rather watch the entire thing happen than sit at my apartment one more fucking minute alone, wondering what is happening to you. Tell me where it is, Gwynn,” he growls.

“Eddie, stop, you don’t want to see this.”

“You’re fucking right, Red! I don’t want to see it! I want you to come home, I want you to come back to me! But you can’t… or won’t... whatever. Next best thing is seeing it, seeing you, knowing what’s happening. The unknown is fucking worse, Red. Now tell me, where the FUCK is the fight?!”

I don’t know if he’s pissed at me, or if he’s just pissed, but I’ve never been spoken to like that before by him. I feel like a small child that just got in trouble. Honestly, I would love for him to be there, because I’m going to need someone to drive me home afterwards and I would rather cut off my left leg than be in the same car with Mac right now.

I give in, sighing, and rattle off the information he needs, then hang up on him before he’s able to get his next sentence out. I’m starving, and I’m going to need all of the energy I can get for tonight. Not having to worry about weigh in, since my opponent is so much bigger than me, I opt for pasta, and a ton of it. Even if it slows me down, I don’t care. My luck, she’ll break my jaw tonight and I’ll be living off of smoothies for the next few weeks, so I may as well enjoy my last meal.