Bad Boy's Honor: An MMA Bad Boy Romance (23 page)

“You mean he’ll go from fighting in this cage to fighting in a cage in another location?” I said dryly. 

“Well, yes, I suppose that’s true. But he’ll be paid a decent amount for it. Certainly more than what we pay him.”

“In that case, I hope it all goes well.” 

I didn’t even know if I was being honest. I didn’t want to see Riker lose or get badly hurt, but the alternative didn’t seem like a great outcome. He’d be paid more, but he’d put his body on the line against talented fighters week in, week out. Was that what I wanted?

What would happen if the scout wasn’t impressed with what he saw? Riker would keep fighting anyway. He didn’t know any other way of living. Fighting was his life, and it always would be, regardless of my position in it.

“Why don’t you come and sit with us?” Gayle offered. “You don’t need to be all the way up here. We’ve saved you a seat on the front row.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine up here,” I lied. 

I hated it. In the ten minutes I’d been standing here, I’d barely been able to stand still for a second without people squeezing past me or flat out walking into me as if I were invisible. And don’t get me started on all the stray hands that had ‘accidentally’ grazed my ass in the shuffle.

“You don’t want to get too close to the violence?” Gayle asked.

I nodded. I didn’t even like being in the splash zone when I watched a whale show at Sea World, and that was just water. I sure as hell didn’t want to risk getting splashed with whatever fluids flew around during a fight.

That wasn’t the only reason though.

“Don’t tell Riker I’m here,” I said to Gayle.

“You didn’t tell him you’re coming?” 

“No. I don’t want to distract him for the big fight. Not that I would distract him, but, you know…”

“I wish I did know,” Gayle replied. “What happened between you two? One minute the two of you could barely make it through a training session without tearing each other’s clothes off, and now you don’t speak. Did he do something stupid? If he cheated on you, I’ll fucking—”

“No, no. Nothing like that. We’re just not going to work out. Two different worlds and all that.” 

“Bullshit. If that was the case, it would make you a snob, and I know you’re not. And Riker wouldn’t think that way, because he’d have to be bloody stupid to turn down a woman like you. Okay, so he can be a little—”

Duke bellowed Gayle’s name from his position down near the entrance to the cage.

Gayle rolled her eyes at the unwanted interruption. “We’re going to continue this conversation. But for now, duty calls.”

Gayle went down to the front and met up with Duke, before heading to the locker room area at the back. 

When they both came back out, the fight was ready to begin.

Riker’s opponent had a lot in common with Riker, judging by the description from the announcer, who looked in even worse shape than the referee. Where did Duke find these people?

Elliot Michaels had also experienced a rough upbringing, and had spent time in prison, before getting his life back on tracks through fighting. The parallels to Riker were uncanny.

The crowd greeted Elliot with a loud chorus of boos, but Elliot soaked it in and used it to psyche himself up. Even after all my training, I couldn’t pretend to know that much about real competitive fighting like this, but it was obvious Riker had a fight on his hands tonight. 

Now it was Riker’s turn to walk up to the cage. I spotted him standing in the doorway with two blondes hanging off his arms. They both whispered seductively in his ear, no doubt letting him know what reward he’d be getting after the fight. The thought of him with them made my stomach crawl.

I’d never been fazed by Riker’s past experience with women. I can’t pretend I enjoyed thinking about it, but it didn’t bother me that much. We all had our pasts, and I wasn’t about to judge him for his. He’d been through enough.

The women took the robe from Riker’s shoulders, and escorted him to the cage as cheers drowned out the awful music blasting from the bassy speakers.

Riker had been naked with me, so I didn’t think his body could hold any surprises. I’d been wrong. When we’d trained, Riker had always worn a tank top and sweatpants. Now he was shirtless, and in a pair of shorts that were tight enough to set my imagination on fire as I pictured his muscular thighs from the last time I’d straddled him.

While Riker and Elliot were similar on paper, they had a completely different attitude in the way they approached the cage.

Whereas Elliot had been cocky and aggressive—feeding off the crowd’s negative energy—Riker had a serious, sullen look to him. His mind looked elsewhere, and if it weren’t for the blondes on his arm, he might not have even made it to the cage at all.

At least he wasn’t looking into the crowd. I shrunk down slightly so that I could only just see over the top of the guy in front of me. I couldn’t let him see me.

Despite all the noise, the sound of the cage door shutting after Riker had stepped through, reverberated around the room like a deafening explosion. No one else seemed to notice it.

The referee gave his little speech to the fighters and then backed away. According to Riker, the only rule was to not hit the crotch. Typical men and their priorities. Unfortunately, Elliot didn’t look like the type who paid much attention to rules.

This was it. 

Come on, Riker. 

I wanted him to win. There was no conflict in my head now. I wanted him to win, and win quickly. Get this over with.

The bell rang.

I knew Elliot would be a challenge from the second the bell rang. 

He didn’t do anything. That was always a bad sign.

From the outside, MMA in a cage might look a bit like boxing, but it was nothing like it in practice. Whereas in boxing it was common for the competitors to size each other up in the early stages, in cage fighting, it was more typical for the opponent to come speeding in hoping to make an immediate impression. There was little subtlety or intelligence in this game.

In every single one of my past fights, I’d managed to get an early upper hand by using my opponent’s early aggression against him. Sometimes I would be able to dodge out of the way and then throw them behind me for an early introduction into the cold metal surrounding the cage.

Other times I would just keep on my toes and let my opponent throw punches and kicks at the air until they’d tired themselves out enough for me to move in for the kill. 

Elliot wouldn’t go down that easily. We danced around the circle of the cage, sizing each other up, but neither willing to make the first move.

I almost smiled as I mentally compared the situation to that of Nora and me when we’d both liked each other, but neither had wanted to be the one to take things to the next level. 

Then Nora had brazenly invited me up to her room. Everything changed at that point. 

The punch hit me out of the blue. I’d been staring directly at Elliot but my mind had been elsewhere. My head didn’t snap back, but it was enough to daze me, and break the chance.

“Wake the fuck up, Riker,” Duke yelled from just outside the cage.

Elliot could—and would—punch me harder than that. He looked as surprised as me to find my defenses down. He’d probably suspected it was a trap. I wish.

There was nothing like being punched in the face to wake you up a bit. Suddenly I remembered I was in a fight.

I missed Nora, and hated the way we’d left things, but getting beaten up wouldn’t help matters.

We both went back to circling the cage, but this time I used the opportunity to spur the crowd on, raising my hands in the air and encouraging them to scream my name. I hoped the noise would deafen me and drown out all thoughts of Nora. It didn’t work.

Now wasn’t the time to think about Nora. Now was the time to fight. So I fought.

I narrowed the gap to Elliot. With one quick step forward I could land a punch on him, but he could do the same to me. Time to shit or get off the pot.

I stepped onto my left foot and faked to throw a punch with my right fist. He fell for it, dodging a punch that never came. Instead, my left fist swung out and landed on the side of his face as he ‘dodged.’ 

My left hand wasn’t as strong as my right, and the bait and switch had left me off balance, but that first punch always hurt like hell. 

Elliot reacted quickly. He let the momentum of my punch swing him round to the side, and swung out a leg, kicking me hard on the back. 

I had more than enough muscle there to cushion the blow, but it sent me staggering forward leaving me exposed from behind. 

My previous opponents would have rushed in right now, desperate to capitalize on an advantage, but Elliot kept his distance and used the time to recover from my first punch. This guy meant business. 

The crowd was getting restless already. They weren’t used to see me taking things slowly. Usually I had the upper hand already. I could have let the discontent wash over me, but I enjoyed having them on my side. 

After tricking him with that last punch, I knew Elliot would be suspicious of my every move. I advanced towards him and positioned myself to throw an obvious right handed punch.

It couldn’t have been more signposted and obvious. Elliot assumed it was another bluff and didn’t move. Perfect. 

My fist slammed hard into his face. This time it was my strong hand, and I had perfect balance. That one was going to hurt.

Elliot went staggering back until he came to a rest on the side of the cage. He’d have been better off falling to the floor and trying to swipe me off my feet. 

With his back against the cage, he had nowhere to move and I had temporary control. The only tough bit was deciding exactly what to do. I settled on landing two more punches to the face; one with the right hand and one with the left. There would be plenty of time to get body shots in later. 

Elliot was a good-looking guy and good-looking guys didn’t like getting their faces ruined. Elliot wouldn’t be the first person to lose the mental battle because of concern over his looks.

I should have known Elliot wouldn’t go down that easy.

-*-

“You’ve got the upper hand in this,” Duke insisted. He always gave a similar pep talk halfway through the fight so I’d heard it all before. 

Gayle did her best to clean up some of my wounds, but one on the head was bleeding heavily and I knew it wouldn’t stop before I went back out for the next round.

“The scout’s impressed,” Duke continued.

“He might be impressed with Elliot,” I pointed out.

“Maybe,” Duke agreed. “But you’re a better fighter. It’s good that Elliot’s giving you a challenge though. It just makes you look better.”

Gayle finished cleaning me up and dried the sweat from my face. I squinted and blinked my eyes to get my full vision back. There were no black eyes yet, so I still had my sight at least. It wasn’t uncommon for an eye to swell up and make the fight a hell of a lot more difficult.

I surveyed the crowd to check out the mood. They were still on my side, but some of them were getting nervous. They didn’t particularly care about my well-being; they’d just put large bets on me winning.

A few betting slips already littered the floor. They’d probably been bets on me winning within the first few rounds. I’d already let some people down.

My head stopped when I saw a familiar face in the crowd. Nora? 

She disappeared behind a large guy before I could focus on her. I might just be seeing things. That wouldn’t be a good sign. 

“Is Nora here?” I asked Duke. 

The look between Duke and Gayle gave me all the answer I needed to that question.

“Why? What’s she doing here?” 

“She wants to support you,” Gayle replied. “Look, don’t worry about her now. Just get out there and do the business.”

The referee yelled for both fighters to stand and get ready to fight, while Duke and Gayle cleared the area. 

I caught another glimpse of Nora, but I couldn’t make out the expression on her face. Was she enjoying the fight? I doubted that. She hated the thought of me fighting for money. I’d left her to keep her away from this lifestyle. The last thing I wanted was for her to be here watching me.