Love Tap (24 page)

“Keep talking and see if you don’t get your ass kicked this morning.” I lift my chin, my face warming with anger.

“Like to see you try,” he stretches casually, his cocky demeanor irritating. I wish coach would send his ass packing, or let me spar him.

“I heard coach getting on you for getting too rough sparring yesterday.” Chase’s eyes smile, he’s clearly happy with himself.

“Yeah, well maybe if he got me a fucking fight already I wouldn’t be so pent up with energy.” He raises a brow like it’s everyone else’s fault.

“I heard you broke Pinky’s wrist, how is that?” I stop what I’m doing and grimace at him. “And don’t get me started on the shit you pulled with Tate.” I point at him. Widening my stance in a threatening manner.

He shrugs, obviously not feeling the slightest bit of guilt for hurting Pinky. I curl my fists, as heat radiates off my body. Not only is Pinky harmless, he was my sparring buddy. He didn’t deserve what happened to him.

What if he did that to Tate?

The thought causes an act of rage to pulse in my neck.

Closing my eyes, I exhale a calming breath.

“You need to walk away,” I breathe out.

Chase laughs maliciously. Opening my eyes I find him walking backwards with a smug look on his face.

“I guess they learned not to get in the ring with a real fighter then, huh?” He tilts his head to the side, his tone indicating that he is a real fighter and I’m not.

I grit my teeth, my heart pounding against my chest with the need to hurt this motherfucker.

“I better hit the locker room and suit up.” Chase pushes off the ropes, heading out of the ring. “I got a day full of ass to kick, and a night full of pussy to chase.”

“What’s this?” Tate asks, looking up from the floor side. I must have missed her come in, too busy with Chase.

I pull on the bungee to test it, my fury slowly fading.
“Today we’re working on bobbing and weaving.” Her face looks skeptical. I could say something about giving head, but I opt out. This time.

“Isn’t that more boxing?” She places her hand on her hip overlooking my setup.

She’s so bent on not boxing when in reality it’s her strong suit. She’s good at a lot of things in the ring, but boxing is in her blood. I wish she would accept it.

“Eight out of ten of the fights I was in start out with boxing techniques. If you’re injured in the first round because you can’t duck a few punches, it could cost you the entire fight,” I school her. It’s the truth. I myself almost lost a fight because I needed to be lighter on my feet.

Her eyes widen with this information. “So what will this teach me?” she points to the rope.

“It’ll build the muscle in your calves as you hunch down, and after you’ve done it enough it’ll be second nature to you. You’ll be quick on your feet, and smooth in your technique.”

She climbs into the ring, and steps up to the cord.

“Go for it, let’s see what I have to work with.” She licks her bottom lip, and positions her left shoulder to the cord.

Taking a quick breath, she ducks and pops up on the side of the cord, before ducking and popping up on the other side.

She’s slow, and she’s not letting the rope touch her shoulder before she drops again.

“Arms up, block yourself!” I instruct. She places her arms up, her eyes focused on the other side of the ring.

After reaching the end, she turns smiling.

“How’d I do?”

“Terrible,” I deadpan, stepping to her.

Her face falls flat, her eyes looking over the ring in thought. I’m not going to sugar coat her weakness, her opponent won’t. They’ll use it against her and that’ll be on me for not training her hard enough.

Stepping behind her I grip her hips, and pull her into me. My dick jumps with excitement, images of having her bent over in this very spot make my balls tingle. I close my eyes, trying to exercise my self-discipline.
Work first, fuck later.

Skimming my lips along the shell of her ear, I get her attention. That or my boner sticking her in the ass cheek did the trick.

“Be light as a feather, but punctual in your execution,” I whisper. Goosebumps race along her neck, and I dig my fingers tighter into her skin.

Her sweet smell and soft skin are testing my restraint. I don’t know how much longer I can coach her when all I want to do is be naked with her.

“Like this.” Taking her by the hips, I tug and pull on her, making her glide along the rope with ease, but with strength. Ducking with me and weaving, our bodies moving in sync just as smoothly as they did when they were flushed against each other in a naked embrace.

“Jab every time the rope hits your shoulder.” I instruct, trying to get my head in the game. The one on my shoulders that is, the one down below has been game since Tate climbed in the damn ring. She strikes the air, her body tight, and moves clean. We reach the other side of the ring and I breathe her in one last time and pull away.

“How was that?” she asks, her tongue licking her bottom lip hungrily.

“Better, but your foot work is a bit sloppy,” I point out.

“Well, it’s hard for me to concentrate when you’re poking me in the back with your hard-on the whole time.” Her eyes fall to my boner and I wink.

“Try it by yourself this time,” I point to the rope. Her face of humor quickly falls, and she gets herself back into training.

She’s a quick learner, and watching her love for the sport makes me fall even more for her.

“It’s great timing too, she’s going to be ecstatic!” Debs cheers stepping out of Thomas’s office, breaking me from my thoughts.

“What are you going on about?” I question. I turn, resting my arms on the ropes as Tate steps up beside me.

Debs crosses her arms, and smiles arrogantly.

“Oh nothing. I just got Tate her first fight is all,” Debs announces casually.

“What?!” Tate’s voice echoes through the gym in excitement, and my chest seizes the fucking air from my lungs. It’s too soon.

“It’s a pretty big one too,” Thomas adds, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. The look on his face has me uneasy.

“Oh yeah, with who?” I ask.

“It’s in Colorado against Kiki ‘Queen Kong’ Terron, in the UFFL.” Her smile widens, touching her eyes. “The check is going to be amazing, Tate!” Debs informs.

“Kiki? She’s been in the game for a bit, and has been offered contracts from all over. You think Tate is ready for that?” My heart thuds in my chest like an over protective parent. How the hell did Debs score this kind of fight for Tate when nobody even knows who the hell she is?

“I’m not sure I’m ready for all that,” Tate states timidly, looking at me for confidence.

“Well, that’s where you come in Camden. If he does his job right, I think you’re more than capable, Tate. This fight could be big for you if you win. So many people will be there to see Kiki, but if you win, their eyes will turn to you.” Rubbing the back of my neck I watch the devil in front of me gleam with joy.

Debs doesn’t care about Tate, she cares about money. Which makes me wonder why she even agreed to work with Tate when she isn’t getting paid by the hour.

“How did you book the fight?” I ask skeptically. The United Front Fighting League is big stuff. A lot of the fighters that are in the UFFL go on to the MFC after that.

“Kiki was set to fight Momma Mateia. They had a sold out arena, and TV subscribers ready to buy the fight. However Mateia backed out last minute, and I worked my magic in getting our girl for the back up.” She smiles proudly, but my stomach sinks wondering what she actually did to get Tate this fight.

“So why would they want me? I don’t understand, I’m nobody,” Tate laughs nervously. She’s wrong, she isn’t a nobody, once they see what she has, and she’ll rise to the top fast. She just needs her shot to shine.

“Because, they think you’ll be an easy win,” I inform. I hate to be so direct, but it’s the truth. Tate’s eyes flash as if she’s accepting the challenge. Of course she is, she’s Tate. She never backs down, even if she should.

“Do you think you can train me in time? Do you think I’ll be ready?” Tate asks, her voice hopeful. This is all she’s ever wanted, and if Tate puts her heart into it… I think she could win. But if she loses, her career will be over before it started.

“When is the fight?” I ask.

“In a week and a half,” Debs informs. I nearly choke on my breath.

“That’s too soon!” My brows raise with surprise. No wonder Debs got the fight, nobody in their right mind would take it.

“I can do this Camden. I want to prove them wrong, let them underestimate me,” she whispers, her tone of confidence strong. I clench my eyes shut. In reality we shouldn’t take this fight, but since when do fighters do anything rationally.

Besides, I want to see the look on Tate’s face when she wins, and I was the one that got her there.

“We’ll give it a shot, but if I don’t think you’re ready, then we’re out,” I give in. Her cheeks turn pink, as her eyes smile. “Go clean up, and we’ll pull up some tapes of Kiki, see what she specializes in.”

She nods, wiping her brow of sweat before leaving the ring.

My eyes flick to Thomas, nervous of what offers they’re accepting for Tate behind my back.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I arch a brow at Thomas.

“Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of me,” Debs spits, throwing her hair over her shoulder like a prima donna. Stepping down from the ring, I pop my neck, my nails digging into my palms.

“I want you to run any and all fights through me first before you book anything for Tate. Do you understand?” I ask, my voice sharp and demanding.

“Not happening, you said it yourself. You’re training, and I’m making the deals. I know the people, and I know what will make her rich... Not you,” Debs sneers and I want to rip her fucking head off. This isn’t about getting paid, it’s about respect.

Stepping into her space, I lower my face and glower at her. I know she’s chomping at the bit to get Tate in the most dangerous, profitable fight there is. The Underground. The CEO of The MFC has an underground ring, a secret society, if you will. Only certain people know about it, and they’re those of extreme wealth. Mafia, congress, celebrities. The fights aren’t like the ones on TV, they have no rules inside the ring, and are often set on unfair advantages. They place bets on who they think will win, and if it’s not entertaining enough they up the stakes and things get bloody. Thomas knows about it, so I’m sure he’s told Debs about it.

“The deal I know you’re dying getting a shot at, the answer is no,” I inform curtly.

She opens and closes her mouth like a fish out of water, her eyes darting to Thomas to interfere with my stare down.

“Alright, easy kid,” Thomas slides his arm in-between us, and I jerk it away.

“No, there is no discussion on this. She’s not to go in that underground ring.” I bark. Once you go in, you don’t come out the same person. No matter the history between Tate and I, I’d never let her in that ring.

“Not that I know what you’re talking about but if I did, you have no say so in this, Camden.” The number one rule of The Underground, we don’t talk about The Underground. Yet here I am, defying the rules. I’d put it all at risk to keep Tate out of that cage.

“I’m telling you, if you so much as—”

“Enough, both of you!” Thomas seethes, pushing us apart.

Debs nostrils flare as she looks me down. My fists clenched ready to throw her into a chokehold.

Thomas shoves Debs away, and shakes his head disapprovingly at me.

“Don’t look at me like that. You of all people know this is not a good idea,” my tone sharp. My nostrils flaring with irritation.

“Yeah I know, at least she’s fighting. Which is more than I can say for you.” He gives me a sideways glance, and I can’t help but laugh internally. The prick, I swear to God him and Debs are one in the same. Money, it’s the root of all evil.

“Yeah, well she also hasn’t been put into a cage and demanded to act like an animal. Which is exactly why I don’t want her to go into The Underground.” I pull myself into the ring, declaring this conversation over.

“You’re holding her back!” Thomas hollers.

“No, I’m keeping her alive.” Both spiritually and physically.

***

Shadow boxing myself to release some of this aggression, Pinky steps up to the mat, his hand wrapped up like a taco. He’s not wearing any gear, showing off his brown gelled hair.

“Hey, I heard the news about Tate,” he smiles a dopey grin. I eye his hand, my chest constricting with the urge to climb out of this ring and beat Chase within in inch of his life.

Huffing, I climb down and grab the towel off his shoulder.

“Your hand going to be okay?” I ask concerned.

He shrugs, looking away. “It’s a risk being in the ring with you guys. I know that.”

If only he knew how much of a sadistic asshole Chase was, he wouldn’t be so accepting.

“Don’t spar with that pussy again, Pinky.” I can’t control the authority in my tone as I demand him to stay away from Chase.