Game On (A Bad Boy Sports Romance) (34 page)

“Me, too,” I added with a nod.

Trina gave us a fond smile. “And the point of all this is—if you think there are still things left unsaid, and something in your heart is telling you that it’ll be worth it to say those things out loud, then don’t let fear hold you back. Honey, I have watched you really come into your own, and I know you can handle yourself just fine. I can see that regret in your eyes and I can tell that you feel like there’s unfinished business. I just want you to know that I will fully support you, whatever you choose. Don’t let Selena Marquez or anyone else keep you from doing you. If anything, you’ll get to say your piece and then turn and walk away from him forever, with your head held high.”

“You really think I should try to talk to him?” I asked in disbelief. Here I had totally expected her to just tell me to pretend it never happened, to put my career first and my heart second. But when I saw the warmth in her gaze I understood: she just wanted me to be happy.

“Do whatever your heart tells you, and don’t let anything else get in your way,” Trina concluded firmly. Alice scooted over and hugged me tight.

“I agree. I may not trust the guy, but I trust you,” she told me.

“Thank you,” I replied to both of them, genuinely.

We finished up our Thai food and then moved onto sharing a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream while watching our ridiculous Lifetime movie. At one point, I slipped away to go to the bathroom and when I came back in, I got the distinct sensation that Trina and Alice had just been conspiring together. Their hushed voices fell silent as soon as they heard me approaching, and even though I didn’t ask, I wondered what in the world they could be planning now.

              I never expected to feel anything like this.

              Gemma’s rejection made me feel like I’d gotten hit by a truck, and nothing I did seemed to dull that feeling. For the first time, exercise didn’t quell the storm in my chest. I jogged up and down half the city day after day, and during the nights, I headed to the gym and lifted some of the heaviest weights I’d ever tackled before, getting people I hardly knew to spot me. I pushed my body to its limits on a daily basis, but nothing did it for me.

              She was lodged into my mind.

              So when the weekend rolled around, I headed to the town and decided to drown my feelings in every vice Vegas had to offer. And that was a lot of vices.

              I found myself in an upscale casino on the strip, shooting craps and blowing through another few hundred dollars. The crowd around me drew in breath as another roll of the dice came out against me, but I was already into my ninth drink, so a little bad luck wasn’t about to stop me.

              By the time I stumbled away from the craps table, I wasn’t sure how much I had lost, and I didn’t care. That was a problem for Future Marc, and he was a long way away as far as I was concerned.

              A few of the women across the casino gave me eyes that told me they’d offer a welcome distraction from my losing streak at the tables, but every time I looked their way, all I could think of was Gemma, and I got agitated and bet another handful of money to send down the drain. Other women made me feel nothing; as always, my body knew what it wanted.

              I was making my way to the bar when I heard another slurred voice call my name out.

              “Holy shit, Marc Montoya? Is this for real?”

              I spun around, and there were what looked like about four guys eyeing me. And they were coming my way, one of them with the kind of look in his eye suggesting he was going to do something stupid.

              In all honesty, part of my reasoning in coming out that night was because I knew I’d get noticed. The notoriety really boosted my ego, made me feel on top again when I sure as hell felt like I was at rock bottom. Of course, notoriety from a handful of drunks in the wee hour of the morning was less than ideal.

              “Look at this guy, MMA hotshot!” one of the men in the front said in a mocking tone. “The fuck you’re doing here losing your money at craps, man?”

              “None of your business,” I shot back with a grunt before turning and heading for the bar.

              “Hey, I wasn’t done talking to you!” the man shouted back, and before I knew it, I felt his hand grab my arm.

              Without missing a beat, I spun and struck him in the head, hard, and he crumpled to the floor without another word. His buddies paused for a moment before realizing what had happened, and the three of them dove for me.

              I had to admit, a casino was one of the few public places where a fistfight really felt like it had a little flare to it. I tossed one of the men to the side without even thinking about it, caught another in the stomach with a jab, and grabbed the third by the scruff of his collar, bringing my head down on his nose and dropping him to the floor. By this point, there were shouts all around us, and I knew it would only be a few moments before bouncers were trying to tackle me too.

              So when the other two men got their bearings and dove for me again, I made sure to put them down fast, a quick hook to the head for one of them before picking up the other and driving him into the ground atop the other. The last of them was conscious, but he wasn’t in any condition to get up.

              I looked around at the people in the crowd, and there was fear in some of their eyes. Even through my inebriated vision, I could see that much. I could also see the bouncers heading my way, and without further ado, I lifted my hands up to be ‘escorted’ out the casino.

***

              The next morning was hell. I’d managed to fight off a hangover, but the drawback to that was remembering everything that had happened the night before.

             
Is this what it’s coming to, Marc?
I thought as I lay in bed,
Beating up drunks in casinos like some kind of strongman sideshow?
With a sigh, I got up and headed to the shower, desperately needing to wash the sweat and shame of last night off me.

              I couldn’t keep doing this. I didn’t recover everything from my injury to waste away in the gutters of Vegas. I needed help, and I needed to get it the only place I knew would look out for me in a time like this.

              As soon as I was out of the shower, I got dressed and headed for the gym.

              One walk later, I was heading up the steps to the Fighting Chance. Once again, even through everything I was feeling, this place felt like home to me, and that in itself offered some reassurance. I hadn’t seen Gemma there in a few days, most likely because I’d been a night owl since the last physio session, but maybe that was for the better.

              As I climbed the steps, I saw Kenny and Danny at the reception table, chatting like I’d seen them last time. Judging by the look Kenny was giving me, I wasn’t going to get away from this one without a word, but thankfully, that’s why I came here in the first place.

              “Marc,” he said as I opened the door, “good to see you! Where you been, man?”

              “Hey, Ken,” I answered, approaching the desk. “Night hours, mostly.”

              “That’s not like you, brother,” he said, giving me a meaningful look. “And judging by the rings under your eyes, that wasn’t all you were doing last night. Come on, Marc, I’m your manager, and shit, you know me. What’s been going on with you the past few days? I thought the end of physio would have been your goddamn renaissance!”

              I thought long and hard about what to say next, but everything in me just felt like bees swarming around, a lot of disorganized thoughts fighting their way to the surface. “I dunno what to tell you, Kenny,” I leveled, “I guess I’ve just been thinking about priorities. Some things in life hit you hard, and you can’t always rely on other people to come through for you, even when you think you’ve got everything figured out. Maybe I’m just better off living in the moment, burning through all this fame and money while it lasts, you know? I have a body that can bring me all the good things out of life that I need, so I may as well use it and burn it out while I’ve got the chance.”

              Kenny and Danny exchanged looks for a moment before Kenny spoke carefully. “I heard what happened with Gemma, Marc.”

              I looked him in the eye, trying to keep my expression unreadable. “Did you?” I let out a sigh, putting my hands behind my head and stretching. “Fuck, I don’t even know how to describe it, Ken. One minute, it felt like we were on top of the world together, that we were made for each other, that it couldn’t get any better. The next, she’s cold as ice, but my body doesn’t listen to any of it. I can’t get her out of my mind, Ken,” I said earnestly, looking him dead in the eyes. “No other woman has ever made me feel like her, and I want to give her everything I’ve shaped my body to be. Why can’t she see that?”

              He took a deep breath, setting both hands on the table. “Look, I know this is probably one of the hardest times you’ve ever gone through. I can see that much in your tired eyes. But I’m gonna tell you right now as someone who’s been through the wringer more times than I’d like to admit, drowning your feelings in booze and money are just gonna put out that fire in you that you think you’re going to ride out ‘till the end.”

              I start to roll my eyes, but Kenny pounds the table. “Dammit, Marc, when I took you out of that little town in New Mexico, I saw a young man who wanted nothing more than to live up to the best of his potential, to reach heights nobody he grew up with ever thought he could reach. Could you look that young man in the eye today and tell him, ‘the best you’re ever gonna get, kid, is getting trashed in Vegas casinos until you lose all that muscle you built up, that reputation you spend so long carving out?’ Because I sure as hell couldn’t.”

              Settling down, Kenny took a breath before continuing. “Marc, the things in life that last are the relationships you have with people. That’s what makes your reputation tangible, man, not the baubles you get to play with along the way. All that flare and flaunting, that’s what people like Nick Dewsbury live for. It’s one thing to use that for your career--it’s another thing entirely to define yourself by it. The people around you will recognize that, and I’ll tell you one thing for damn sure: when it comes to girls, they’ll recognize that. If you really wanted to live for everything that you could buy, you’d be going back to Selena on your hands and knees.”

              I processed everything he said, but for some time, I said nothing, clenching my hands on the desk, agitated. “So if all that’s true,” I said at last, “what the hell am I supposed to do when my relationships are in the gutter? What else do I turn to when everything else has gone to hell?”

              Danny straightened up, and both of us looked to him, having almost forgotten he was there. Danny Gilchrist was a man in his fifties, his black hair flecked with gray and white, but his  green eyes as sharp and bright as ever.

              “Marc,” he started in a calm voice that took our attention instantly, “do you know how this gym got started?” I gave my head a shake, but he already knew the answer. “Back when I was in my twenties, I showed up in this city just like most of the other young boxers my age. We were tough, fiery, full of so much life that we didn’t know what to do with it all. Most of us were from small towns--young bucks that scouts picked up, not unlike you and Kenny.”

              He walked out from around the desk, heading for the full-pane windows to wave his hand at the city outside. “A city like Vegas? If you don’t know what you’re doing, it’ll eat you alive and shit you out without a second thought, and once you hit rock-bottom, it’ll do it all over again. Boxers and wrestlers like us, with a ton of newfound money and nothing to guide us, we were like walking dollar signs to the sharks who ran this city--who
still
run this city. A few of us got contracts with big-name brands. Others tried to strike out on their own. Most of us ended up in the casinos, blowing all our cash on booze, drugs, and anything else we could get our hands on.”

              He crossed his arms, and as I looked at his reflection in the window, I’d never seen him look so old.

              “Finally, a few of us got some brains and realized that at the end of the day, those of us who were worth the gloves we beat each other with were all here for just one thing: the love of the sport.” He turned around and stepped towards me, a deadly serious look in his eyes. “We’re fighters, Marc. You, me, Kenny, even Gemma. We’re all here for the thing that drives our passion, the thing that lets us get our true potential. Back in the day, me and the boys decided we were done getting jerked around by those pigs up in their penthouses and ritzy offices. We were done getting used by the system. So we banded together, pooled our money, and founded a place that would keep us together--a place that would give us a fighting chance.”

              He gestured around him at the building. “This place you’re standing in, that’s what it represents.”

              Kenny’s voice snapped my attention away from Danny for a moment. “Marc, you’ve seen for yourself that Gemma Knight is her own woman, and her spirit is just as strong and fierce as yours, in different ways. I don’t know whether the two of you are going to work things out or if you’ll have to part ways, but one thing’s certain--both of you came here for one reason, and that’s because you love this life, this dedication we all have to each other and to ourselves. Know why I gave you so much advice when you said you had an offer from Nick? Because we fighters need to stick together and protect each other, Marc.”

              I ran a hand through my hair, then nodded, looking up resolutely at Kenny. “Alright old man, you’re right. I’ve been going on about my body and all I’ve done for it, but I guess I’ve been ignoring my mind. And that’s where my dedication comes from, and it’s what’s been steering me here this whole time. They can’t act separately--they’ve got to be one fine-tuned machine, together,” I said, and hearing the words come from my own mouth affirmed the truth behind them.