FIGHT NIGHT #1: Three Story MMA Romance Bundle (17 page)

Chapter Thirty Five

Toni

Toni had flashbacks to starting out in her career.

Back then, it had been exciting to be whisked out of the back of a hotel – guided through the kitchen, to the bemused look of chefs and porters. It hadn’t mattered that normally she was being shown out in secret because she’d spent the night banging some married celebrity – it was still cool.

But these days? When
she
was the celebrity with the secret to keep? It was a little less glamorous.

The only good thing about being led out through the side entrance – like somebody’s dirty laundry – was that James was escorting her there. His big hand was curled around hers, and as they walked Toni kept glancing over at the big, handsome man striding by her side.

Finally, they were there.

“This opens up into the alleyway,” the bellboy confirmed, and James slipped him a fifty dollar bill. With a nod of thanks, the bellboy pushed open the fire escape…

Flash!

Camera bulbs popped.

Microphones were shoved in their faces. Screaming voices demanded: “Toni! Toni! What’s the story, Toni?”

“James! Is this your new girlfriend?”

“Toni! Have you broken up with Hannibal Alexander?”

There were fifty reporters out there, armed with cameras and microphones and an endless barrage of questions.

For a moment, Toni and James just stood there, stunned. Then the bellboy pulled them back inside, and slammed shut the fire door.

In the dimness of the corridor, Toni’s face went pale.

“Oh, fuck,” she breathed. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

“What the hell was that?” James wheeled around to the bellboy, who cowered away in terror. “We were trying to leave
discreetly
.”

“I-I have no idea, sir,” the terrified bellboy stammered. “I-it was clear fifteen minutes ago, I
swear
.”

James snarled at him.

Grabbing Toni’s elbow, he pulled her down the corridor.

“C’mon, let’s get back to my room and figure out what’s going on.”

Stunned, Toni followed him.

Chapter Thirty Six

James

The story was on TMZ in less than an hour.

“Hannibal’s Sweetheart Caught Canoodling With Rival!”

Soon other websites were showing the pictures of James and Toni, framed in the doorway of the hotel side entrance, stunned by the appearance of cameras and reports.

“Hip hop star spends night with rival.”

“Bailing on Baller?”

The rest of the headlines were equally inventive.

“Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” Toni was gasping, sitting on the bed rocking back and forth. “Oh, Jesus, Baller is gonna
kill
me.”

“Nobody’s getting killed,” James promised. He grabbed for the phone, and punched in Taffy’s number. “I’ll fix this, I swear.”

“How are you gonna fix it?” Toni looked up at him and yelled: “They
know
, okay? It’s on fucking TMZ!”

You couldn’t really argue with that fact.

“James, they’re gonna fucking
roast
me,” Toni cried. “Fuck knows what Baller will do, but Frank? And Delwood? I’ll be dead to them.” Fat tears started rolling down her cheeks. “This is gonna kill my career.”

James clamped his hand over the receiver.

“Nothing’s getting killed,” he snapped. “Not you. Not your career. Let me talk to Taffy. He can fix
anything
.”

But, sadly, it seemed James’ faith was misplaced that morning.

The phone stopped ringing, and Taffy picked up.

“I’m watching the news now, boyo,” the Welshman sounded almost excited. “They caught you bang to rights.” Then he sniggered. “Or banging
her
to rights.”

“Taffy,” James snarled, “what the fuck happened? You said you were sending the car around. You said this would be
discreet
.”

“Well, the cat’s out of the bag now, isn’t it?” Taffy lamented. “What are you going to do? You two can’t hold up in your room all day.”

As it happened, that wasn’t an option.

There was a loud banging on the door to James’ hotel suite. Then a cry of: “Mr. MacDonald. It’s the hotel manager, sir. We need to speak to you.”

James snapped into the phone: “Get here fast, Taffy.”

“Five minutes, boyo.”

And then the phone clicked dead.

Putting the receiver back on the cradle, James crossed the room and swung open the door. There, looking pale and sheepish, were the hotel General Manager and a couple of his staff.

“Sir?” The manager asked. “We need you to come downstairs. There’s a bit of a
situation
. We’ve called the police, but we thought you might be able to deal with it better than we can.”

“Situation?” James gulped. “What sort of situation?”

“There’s a man downstairs called Hannibal Alexander – and he says if he doesn’t get to see you, there’s going to be
trouble
.”

Chapter Thirty Seven

James

Hannibal Alexander was in a Sean John suit and a foul mood.

Surrounded by his ‘posse’, the menacing MMA fighter was prowling the lobby of the Hilton like a stray tiger, slamming his fist into his palm menacingly.

Hotel guests scurried out of his way. Onlookers were aghast. From outside the gleaming glass windows, paparazzi and reporters looked on, videotaping and snapping pictures of the scene.

It was that which welcomed James MacDonald and Toni Rome as the elevator doors opened up.

Stepping out into the lobby, a hush descended as the British fighter and the curvy hip hop honey stepped across the plush carpeting.

“There you are, you
fucker
!”

The sound of Hannibal’s voice reverberated around the hotel lobby. Swaggering forward, the big fighter’s nostrils flared as he snorted like an angry bull.

James stepped in front of Toni, and stood his ground.

“Good morning, Hannibal,” he said coolly.

Six feet from where he was standing, Hannibal stopped. He glowered at James MacDonald, looming like a predator. His posse fell in behind him – burly African American men with mean stares and tattoos.

“What the
fuck
is this?” Hannibal snapped, pointing an accusing finger at James. Then he looked at Toni, hiding behind the handsome Scot, and demanded, “Are you with him now, you fucking
hoe
?”

“
Watch your language
,” James hissed.

“My fucking
language
?” Hannibal took a menacing step forward – now just five feet from where James was standing. “You limey motherfucker – my
language
is the
least
of your fucking concerns.”

Raised voices barely registered with the two fighters – but shouldering their way through the crowd came two figures.

Skinny little Taffy Evans scurried over to where James was standing, and grabbed Toni’s wrist. She let him drag her away, to the comparative safety of the corner of the room.

Meanwhile, Hannibal’s manager Delwood swaggered up to where his client was standing and hissed: “What the fuck’s going on, Baller?”

Hannibal’s eyes narrowed. He pointed an accusing finger at James MacDonald.

“That limey motherfucker’s been
sleeping with my girl
,” he hissed. “I’m gonna fucking
kill him
.”

“Yo, here, boss,” one of Hannibal’s posse reached into his jacket and pulled out a 9mm Smith and Wesson.

There was a hushed gasp from the room. Even James backed away as he saw it.

“For Christ’s sake,” Delwood snapped, slapping the black man’s wrist. “Put that fucking thing away. Do you want us all to go to jail?”

Jail wasn’t Hannibal’s concern.

“Yo!” He snapped at the member of his posse with the gun. “I don’t need no fucking gun to kill this motherfucker.” And, with that, he peeled off the black suit jacket he was wearing, and started rolling up his sleeves. “I can bury him with my fucking
fists
.”

Chapter Thirty Eight

James

“Now, hold on,” James held up his hands. “Hannibal, we don’t want any trouble. The police are on their way.”

Taffy shouted out from the sidelines, “Yeah, you big black cunt! If you want to settle this with your fists, do it in the fucking octagon!”

James nodded. Turning to Hannibal, he argued: “How about that? Settle it like gentlemen?”

Hannibal took another step forward, and took a practice swing. James flinched at the sight of it.

“Oh, you’d fucking
like that
, you limey prick,” he sneered. “Make yourself a little money. Get your pretty face back on TV again.” He rolled his eyes. “Well, it
ain’t gonna happen
.”

“Baller, calm it the fuck down,” Delwood was trying to reach out to his client. “Back the fuck away. This ain’t smart, buddy.”

Hannibal snapped his head in the direction of his trainer and barked: “
Fuck
being smart.” He pointed an accusing finger at James. “I whipped this motherfucker yesterday, and I can do it again
right here
,
right now
.”

From the back of the room, somebody murmured: “Weren’t the fucking police meant to be here by now?”

But nobody else in the room seemed to care about the police. They were all watching as James and Hannibal squared off.

“How’s about it, limey,” Hannibal snapped. “Right
here
, right
now
.” He pointed an accusing finger at the Brit. “You fuck my girl? Well, I’m gonna
fuck you up
.”

And then he turned to Toni, his eyes burning with hatred.

“And you, you fucking
hoe
. I’ll send you back to the hood. Record deals? Fucking forget ‘em. These celebrity parties? You’re fucking
finished
with them.”

He took a deep, angry breath, slamming his fist into his palm.

“By the time I’m done with
you
, you little slut, you’ll be sucking off crack dealers to make rent.”

And that’s when James saw red.

Taking a menacing step forward, the Scotsman drew himself up to his full height – towering above the bigger, stronger black man.

“Threaten me all you want, you big, ugly cunt,” he growled, “but say one more word to Toni and I will
end you
.”

Hannibal grinned.

His eyes flashed.

This
was what he wanted.

“Well, come on then, you limey cocksucker,” he sneered. “Let’s fucking
dance
.”

Chapter Thirty Nine

Toni

Toni clung to Taffy’s arm, as she watched her two lovers circling each other like angry dogs.

“Bloody hell,” the Welshman growled. “It’s really going to fucking happen!”

And it was. In front of dozens of terrified onlookers, and countless video cameras and reporters, two of the biggest names in MMA heavyweight fighting were about to have an impromptu rematch in a hotel lobby.

Toni was terrified. Not just for herself and her uncertain future, but for the two men she was about to watch lay into each other.

Baller was an asshole, but he was still her boyfriend. She liked to think that him showing up here that morning had at least a
little
to do with his feelings for her, rather than just correcting the trespass of his rival.

And James? Toni sighed. James was lovely. He was sweet. And he was up there defending her honor, when she wasn’t even sure she had any honor left to protect.

She’d cheated on her boyfriend, and humiliated him in front of millions. And now she was going to let the two men in her life beat each other to a bloody pulp in front of her.

Those were hardly the actions of an honorable woman.

And part of her wondered if she deserved these two men’s devotion.

But then, of course, she knew Baller wasn’t doing it for
her
.

James MacDonald had humiliated him. He cared more about his ego than pretty much anything else in the world – and that meant Baller
had
to get his own back.

It was James she felt bad for. Bad, and a little worried.

Baller had threatened to kill him. As long as the police continued to be missing-in-action, there was nothing to stop him doing just that.

This wasn’t the sanitized safety of an MMA cage match. This was
real
fighting. And in real fighting, people got hurt, or killed.

And she couldn’t live with herself if that happened to James.