Surge: (#7 The Beat and The Pulse) (4 page)

F
ight night was always
a big deal.

It was the moment all of us trained for. The money shot in front of an arena full of fans and television cameras. It was payday, mentally and figuratively.

Hanging out back in my locker room for the night, I paced back and forth, trying to maintain focus. Linc and I had spent the day training and going over Gabe O’Connell’s fight reel a million times, and I now felt like I was on intimate terms with the fucker’s takedown strategy. And his nipples and ass crack.

Last night, the moment I’d turned around and saw his hand on Josie, something changed. I didn’t know what, but something shifted, and it wasn’t just about me anymore. Me or the one-sided attraction to Monica. I thought Josie had been pissed about the brand crossing thing, but the more I thought about it, the more my dick wandered.

The door opened, letting Lincoln into the locker room, and then shut with a
boom
.

“How did you know you wanted more with Vee?” I asked.

Linc raised an eyebrow. “Where’s this coming from?”

“How did you know?” I asked again, flicking him with my towel.

He shrugged as he snatched the material away from me. “I dunno. I just did.”

I snorted. Not the answer I was looking for, but maybe there was no easy out on this. My dick was just pointing at Josie because she was newly single and I was feeling bad about how I’d been treating her. Then O’Connell had to go and stir the pot by trying to nab her away from me. Us, I meant us.

“You still hung up over Monica?” Linc asked with a frown.

“It’s not that,” I growled.

“Then what’s up your ass?”

“Gabe tried to poach Josie,” I blurted.

Linc’s expression did a one-eighty. “What? When?”

“After the weigh-in last night.”

“What did she say?” He looked troubled, and I didn’t blame him. I’d felt the same way when I’d seen O’Connell’s nasty paw on Josie’s waist.

“She said she told him to fuck off,” I replied, shaking out my arms.

“Good. I should hope so. She’s dynamite.” He glanced at me with a look in his eye that said he was about to impart some wisdom. “You need to cut her some slack, bro. If you push her any more, you’ll push her right out the door.”

“Don’t give me a lecture,” I snapped. “Not right before I fight the fucker who tried it on with her.”

Which way did I want to push her? Out the door or onto my cock? What a stupid thing to consider. Josie was untouchable.

“Dean.” We glanced at the door as Coach appeared. “It’s time to go, son.”

Linc slapped me on the shoulder and shoved me forward. “Go fuck him up, bro.”

“Ladies and gentlemen!” I could hear the announcer warming up the crowd, and I jumped from foot to foot. Coach slapped me on the shoulder and urged me forward, but I didn’t need to be shepherded.

“You’ve got this, son,” he said as we walked toward the arena. “Keep your head clear, and remember your training. O’Connell plays on the theatrics, but don’t let him sway your focus. He can be downright nasty on the takedowns, so watch your footing.”

“Yes, Coach,” I replied, shaking my hands and flexing my fingers before pulling on my gloves.

We stepped out into the arena, striding through the crowd until we reached the side of the octagon. I could see Linc, Vee, and Josie sitting in ringside seats but couldn’t look at them. Like Coach said, I had to keep my focus, and right now, there was a certain blonde who had my mind wandering all over the place.

“This is the main event of the evening!” the announcer boomed to the crowd. “Welcome to AUFC 35! This fight is three rounds deciding the contender for the middleweight title. Introducing… Fighting out of the blue corner with seven wins, zero losses, standing six foot, weighing in at eighty point seven kilograms, and fighting out of Melbourne, Australia, please welcome Gabe O’Connell!”

The camera focused on Gabe as he paced back and forth in his corner, making a show out of sliding his mouth guard in and cracking his knuckles.

Rolling my eyes, I shucked off my robe and climbed into the octagon, wearing nothing but my shorts and padded gloves. As the announcer and a second camera crew turned to me, I took my place and shoved my mouth guard in. Time to get this show on the road.

“And fighting out of the red corner with eleven wins, one loss, standing at six foot two inches, weighing in at eighty-one point three kilograms and fighting out of Sydney, Australia, please welcome Dean Hayes!”

The crowd cheered and whistled as I raised a hand to wave at them.

“Now to introduce our referee for the evening, Jase Harrington.” The ref stepped forward to the center as Gabe and I approached our marks.

“Gentlemen, you know the rules,” Harrington said, placing his hands on our chests and making a show of keeping us apart. “Protect yourselves at all times. Follow my instructions. Let’s have a clean fight, so c’mon, let’s touch gloves and do this right.”

Without hesitation, Gabe and I raised and bumped our fists, immediately turning to stride back to our corners.

Coach gave me the thumbs up, and I nodded, turning back to face O’Connell. The referee called it, and the fight began. No fuss. Clean as a whistle.

Gabe and I danced around one another, testing boundaries, and then he struck, landing a kick to my right side. I pushed him off easily, the blow bouncing off me harmlessly, and then we danced some more.

We exchanged kicks, neither of us finding a break to attempt anything more. Then Gabe took a risk and launched himself at me. In a flurry of punches, he hooked his foot around my shin, attempting to take me down, but I spun, dislodging him and spiraling toward the barrier.

He cornered me against the edge of the octagon and climbed onto my back like a little leech, trying to knock me off balance, but I was having none of that.

Gabe’s fist slammed into my face again and again, but I remembered the thing that got me through bad spots like this. My focus.

I was pinned against the side of the octagon right in front of Linc, and I could hear him screaming at me to shake the little shit off my back.
Yeah, bro, didn’t I know it.

If Gabe took me down this early in the fight and won the round, then odds on he’d dent my pride and take the second, too.

Sucking in a deep breath, I pushed back and twisted at the waist, using all the strength I could muster to throw Gabe down. He hit the mat with me on top of him, and the crowd cheered, demanding blood. We grappled, fighting for dominance, and the moment I moved into a position where I could get in a clean punch, I slammed my fist into his face.

His grip loosened, but he still clung to me, and I punched him again and again. I had the upper hand, and as long as I could hold it until the siren blew, I’d have the round.

Gabe tried to free his right arm as we grappled, but my hold was perfect, and he couldn’t gain any slack to push me off. I held and held…then the siren blew.

First round was mine.

After a short interlude, the second round was underway.

We began the same way, circling and testing each other’s defenses. A few kicks glanced off me as O’Connell attempted to strike at my ribs, but nothing came close.

Focus, Dean. Focus
.

Then O’Connell launched an attack, but I raised my arms, locking him against me. He growled in frustration, and we grappled furiously, trying to push each other off balance. It was tense as we butted heads, our feet sliding across the mat as we wrestled.

“It’s only a matter of time before I have Josie,” Gabe muttered in my ear.

I stumbled, and he took the break in my focus and used it against me. Breaking free of the grapple, his fist slammed into my face, the force throwing me off balance, and I spun, falling flat on my face. The crowd was going fucking crazy, but I could hardly hear them as my ears began to ring.

Gabe threw himself on me, locking me into an impossible hold. I thrashed against him, trying to counter his attack, but I couldn’t move.

“She’ll be on my team, promoting me to the masses,” Gabe murmured into my ear. It was soft enough the microphones couldn’t pick up the sound, but I was sure the commentators would pick up on it and speculate. By the end of the night, there’d be rumors of a bitter rivalry between us.

“Then she’ll be around my cock, promoting something else,” he went on, laughing like it was already a done deal.

The siren blew, signaling the end of round two, and Harrington broke us apart.

Slamming my fists on the mat, I cursed loudly. Shoving to my feet, I swiped away the trickle of blood running down my face. The fucker had split my eyebrow.

Returning to my corner, I glared at Coach, who gestured for me to kneel. He jumped into the cage and dabbed a towel against my cut, wiping the blood away. “I don’t know what he said to you, but don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to split your focus. Shut him out.”

“Yes, Coach.” I nodded, my gaze lifting.

I don’t know if it was intentional or unconscious, but I saw Josie sitting next to my brother. Our gazes locked, and she nodded.

You’ve got this
, she mouthed, but all I could see was Gabe O’Connell and the filthy shit he’d said about her. Disrespectful shit. Josie was classy as fuck, had balls of steel, and could duke it out with the best men in this business. Not literally, but she didn’t take crap from anybody, especially me. Nobody spoke about her like she was a thing to be taken advantage of.
Nobody
.

All I felt was anger, and anger to a fighter was the worst thing he could fixate on in the octagon. It was the farthest thing from maintaining focus there was, and I was letting it rule me, but I didn’t care. Gabe O’Connell needed to have his mouth shut, and I was just the man to do it for him.

Pushing away from the mesh, I turned back to face my opponent.

Round three began, and Gabe and I danced again, this time, testing the waters a little more forcibly. I threw a few punch combinations, trying to break through his guard, and he shot some back at me.

“Here pussy, pussy, pussy,” he cooed at me.

“Clean fight, gentlemen,” Harrington bellowed, reminding O’Connell to keep it in check, but he didn’t stop the fight and let us maintain.

“You had her yet?” Gabe asked, ignoring the warning from the referee.

I felt my already shredded focus disintegrate, and I attacked, throwing myself onto Gabe for the mother of all takedowns, but he saw it coming a mile off. He’d been counting on it. Uncontrollable forward momentum, his fist…it was a perfect combination.

Gabe threw a punch with his right fist, and it smacked into my temple with a precision that surprised me. Coach warned me O’Connell fought dirty. I knew he’d try something underhanded, and I let the cocksucker throw me off.

My head snapped backward, the lights above the octagon burning into my retinas as I fell. Like the world was in slow motion, I slammed into the mat, my jaw jarring from the impact, and I was powerless.

With the last of my strength, I rolled over onto my stomach, attempting to get back up and stay in the fight, but my palms slipped, and I was down again.

The world fell from view, the mat and the drops of blood from my own face the only things I could see…and they were becoming blurrier by the minute.

Harrington was on his knees beside me, his face practically shoved up in mine waiting to call it. I tried to hold on so I could teach O’Connell some fucking manners, but my body had other ideas.

The referee’s hand slapped onto the mat beside me, and he shouted. I didn’t hear what he said as I slipped into unconsciousness, but I didn’t have to.

Third round KO.

I’d lost.

* * *

P
ushing away
the hands of an overzealous paramedic, I reached for the bag of ice beside me and pushed it against my aching temple. If only I could ice my pride, then maybe I’d feel a little better. What was above a pile of shit? The pitter-patter of Gabe O’Connell’s piss?

“Leave me alone,” I snapped at the paramedic. “I’m fine.”

“You might have a concussion,” he argued. “I need to check—”

“I said fuck off!”

Coach appeared beside us and gestured for the paramedic to leave me be. “I’ll see to it he gets checked out,” he told the guy. “He’s angry, so you won’t get a proper look-in for a while yet. Don’t take it to heart.”

The guy snorted, picking up his bag. “I’ve dealt with worse dented egos.” He glanced at me, and I narrowed my eyes in return. “Make sure someone is with him for the next twenty-four hours. Symptoms can appear hours after the fact. That blow was hard.”

With Coach and the paramedic gone, it was just me in the locker room. Glad for the privacy, I stood and began pacing, feeling dizzy but too amped up to sit still.

My mind went over and over the fight as I tried to pinpoint the moment I’d slipped. I replayed it so many times, trying to convince myself it was something other than what it was, but I was coming up empty. I’d let O’Connell split my focus and go for someone I cared about. I’d let his nasty mouth get to me.

The door creaked. I glanced up and found Josie slipping through the crack into the lion’s den. After the things O’Connell said about her, I wasn’t sure seeing her right now was a good idea. I was in a mood. A real nasty one.