BWWM: BEFORE I WAKE: A Bad Boy Billionaire Book Collection (African American Interracial Series) (359 page)

“Okay then, moving on…” I pressed my lips as I turned away. They burned from our touch. Oh boy. How did I let that happen?

JACKSON

               
“
Had he thrown his weight around, you’d have been snapped in half!”

              I’m listening to Aaron Christie, “the baby faced killer”, a goofy Scottish rookie who’d recently became an MMA sensation. As the youngest fighter ever in the heavyweight division, he had the fiercest fighting style I’d ever seen. The ironic thing was that he was funny and dare I sa
y
kin
d
outside the cage. But I’ve never - in my entire career seen someone fight with the kind of crazy abandon that he did.

I had come to The Bayside Brawlers a Venice beach training facility to meet with the owner Santos. Santos was not only Aaron’s head trainer but he had coached quite a few other heavyweight fighters who’d quickly risen to fame. He was just the man I needed to spearhead my comeback.

I was happy to see Santos’s heavily tattooed arms and legs appear around the corner, anything to get me out of this conversation about my last fight. It was bad enough that I was standing in a new gym.

Although he was approachable, Santos was a brick house, standing over six-five, with long stringy hair. He was a legend and rumors had been whispered for years that he used to battle in unsanctioned fights in the alleyways of Mexico City - fight club style. His name and reputation carried a lot of weight here. And with the way Aaron shuffled away quickly, so did his presence too. He motioned me towards his back office.

              “Jackson, Jackson, Jackson.” My name hovered in the air as he took a seat on a worn leather couch across from me.

              “May’s not too far away.” I saw him glance down at my brace. I’m sure he could see that I still walked favoring my other leg.

“Trust me I’ll be ready. It’s my natural weight class, there’s nothing stopping me from getting back in the cage and....”

“Nothing?” His eyebrow quirked towards my knee again.

“I’ve been in therapy since August and things are going well. I’ve been lifting at home and by the holidays I can box. It’s only November. Give me a few weeks and I’ll be ready. I… I can do this.”

He studied my face for a long time. He’s not going to bite. I started to feel self-conscious. He was going to make me sweat.

“Why now? What are you not telling me?” His eyes didn’t flinch.

“Don. He paid off fights.” I felt ashamed even saying his name.

“So now you got something to prove?”

“Fuck  yeah.”

“Then no.” My heart stopped.

“What do you mea
n
n
o
?”

“I’m not about that revenge, amigo. I get it I get it, this is your big chance to settle the score, prove that you’ve really got the balls. But revenge fighting? No. I’ve seen men get killed in the cage trying to rewrite the past.”

“Santos…”

“Gain the weight and we can train at Christmas. But I’m not making any guarantees come May. I’ll help you but if you’re not ready, I’m not feeding you to the lions.”

I let out a sigh. This is not what I wanted. But from the way he sounded, this was my only shot. I had to prove myself before I got a shot to prove myself.

I nodded and he sat back, content. This guy was for real.

“9 am on the 25th.”

“What? Christma
s
Da
y
?”

“You’ve had enough time off, right?” He smiled slightly.

“Alright, “I said slowly, “Christmas it is.”  

Regardless of his frightening appearance, something about him put me at ease. He stood and stretched out his palm. I masked the ache I felt in my knee when I stood to shake his hand. This was going to be one hell of a ride.

“Jack the Axe,” he said with the same gleam in his eye. We heard Aaron’s lou
d
whoo
p
from the practice ring and we both chuckled.

“If I can make a champion out of that goofy kid, just think what I can do for you. He’s a pain. in. the. ass!”

I laughed and said, “You take credit for that?”

“Only the defense moves. The personality was warped way before he got here.”

Laughing again I realized that being around a guy like Santos was refreshing compared to Don’s humorless, ugly demeanor.

“Now that he’s fighting like a veteran maybe you can work on that personality?”

Santos shrugged. “Ah I’ve tried, believe me. He’s come a long way from the kid I saw fighting in the rat holes overseas. He trusts me now. Before he’d just totally ignore me!”

“Not me. I’ll do everything you say. Just get me back to New York in May. You’ll see, I’ll be ready.”

“You gotta eat too. Your skinny ass needs about ten more pounds on it.”

I smiled with quick nod. “Yeah and I need to get my skinny ass to my therapy appointment now, but I’ll be back and we can get started.”

“Don’t forget your gear, lightweight.” His big laugh rumbled a light nearby.

I grinned.  “You got it coach. And uhm… thanks.”

As I drove across town I thought about Amara and that kiss we’d shared on Halloween. My cock twitched as I remembered the way her soft hand had felt on my stomach. For the three weeks in between though, she’d been really distant. She’d even taken a few days off.

I let myself believe it was because she didn’t trust herself around me…I thought about her amazing body and shivered again. Damn it felt good to press our bodies together. She fit me, like a glove.

And her body was just the beginning. I’ve gotten to see her with her other patients and with her co-workers and what I’ve seen is a compassionate woman with a lot of heart and determination. I also see the overwhelming love in her eyes when she talks about her little girl. The light in her eyes and face overwhelms me sometimes. She’s tough, but she’s fair and she gives me plenty of praise when I work hard and accomplish my goals. Sometimes I feel like I want to jump up in her lap and let her rub me behind my ears like a puppy dog… I snort, hardly believing it was so possible for me to be attached to her already. But I was.

I had to convince her to go out with me so we could see each other outside of the walls of our “professional” relationship. I’d asked her subtly more than once. She started out with
,
“I don’t date my clients,
”
and when I told her that I wouldn’t be her client forever, she’d changed tactics and told me
,
“I don’t date fighters.”

“Why?” I’d asked her.

“I just don’t believe in violence.”

“It’s a sport like… football.”

“It’s a sport based on crushing some one’s willpower and I’m sorry but I’m just not into it.”

“You don’t have to be into it… especially since I’m not fighting.
”
It wasn’t really a lie right?… I wasn’t fighting righ
t
no
w
.

That day she had changed the subject and we moved onto something else. I let it go, but today I resolved to give it another shot.

Throughout our session, I was on my best behavior. As I was doing my final cool down exercises I finally turned towards her. Today she wore a peach colored polo and slacks that made her ass look ripe.

It had been months since I’d had a woman but I couldn’t bring myself to respond to the texts I’d gotten from random fangirls offering to help me “get better sooner.” Amara was the only cure I wanted.

“So when are you going to let me take you out?”

She eyed me casually. “I told you I don’t date fighters, Jack.”

“Then let’s not fight.”

She smiled shyly and my heart skipped a beat. God, this woman!

Once again, I did feel bad for lying… I hadn’t started fightin
g
agai
n
. I hated the thought of never being with Amara again after recovery. In my mind I’d already been with her a thousand times and I wanted to have her in my life for good. My time with her was the highlight of my week.

Besides, no one in my past had measured up to her - not even close and I didn’t see my future with anyone else but her. But I also want to be back in the cage…

“Why do you hate fighters so much anyways?”

“Okay, it’s not the actual fighters per say... Some of them are okay.” She gave me a little smile and I grinned.

“It’s the barbaric attitude of it all…My late husband was killed overseas in a way Jack... I’m not onboard with violence of any sort.”

Her pretty eyes had moisture in the corners of them and suddenly I felt like shit. I wanted to take her in my arms and hold her close and comfort her. I took a cautious step forward and put my hand on her back. She surprisingly allowed me to rub her back slightly - not the warm hug I was hoping for, but it would do for now.

“He was gone a lot before he died. Nala has never really had a father… all because of the fighting. She doesn’t really have that kind of stability at all. My own father travels a lot. Time’s like Thanksgiving make me think about this stuff all over again.” Her voice quivered.

“It will be just the two of you?” I asked.  

“Yes, just the two of us.” She smiled slightly but not before I saw the flash of sorrow in her eyes.

“Well aren’t you a lucky girl. I need a date for Thanksgiving dinner! You’ve already met my mom even.” I say with a wink. “Roger’s mountain  is beautiful right now.”

“Roger’s mountain?” Her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“Well, it’s not reall
y
hi
s
mountain. He has a place just above San Vicente Mountain Park though. Have you ever been there?”

“No, I can’t say that I have.” Her face lifted into a smile. So beautiful.

“It’s gorgeous. On a clear day you can see downtown L.A. and sometimes even the ocean after a big rain when the smog is cleared out.”

“I don’t know about taking Nala on a long trip…”

“I promise it’s not that far. Once you’re up there it seems like you’re miles from civilization, but you’re still pretty close. And mom and Roger will be there the entire time. It’s a straight shot up Hayvenhurst off of Ventura and up into the Encino Hills through Mulholland. It’s the holidays. Your girl will have a great time. My mom goes all out!”

“You don’t think Caroline and Roger will mind?”

“Are you kidding? My mother has been driving me insane with her
‘
I want to be a grandmother before I’m eight
y
’ routine. She’ll love spending time with Nala.”

Amara glanced up at me. I felt like she wanted me too but she wouldn’t allow herself to feel that way.

“Give me a chance…”

She furrowed her brows and I braced myself for another rejection. I was surprised as hell when she finally spoke.

“Okay, Nala will probably enjoy that more than an entire day with just me.”

I felt my heart swell and crack. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

***

              I picked up Amara and Nala from their home in the Hills at eleven on Thanksgiving Day. Amara was wearing a short-sleeved sweater dress that hugged her curves the way I always wanted to. It was a silver color and she had on a pair of the same color leather boots and about six inches of her gorgeous bronze legs were showing in between. Her hair hung softly around her face and shoulders and those gorgeous eyes were highlighted with just a touch of eyeshadow that caught the light… God, she’s beautiful.

Nala is adorable as well. She had her hair in two braids and she was wearing a frilly little dress and patent leather shoes. She had her mom’s eyes and I could tell that Mom was going to need a big stick when she got older to fight off the boys.

              “Hi. You ladies look amazing.”

              Amara smiled at me and said, “Thank you, so do you. This is my daughter, Nala. Nala this is Mr. Hanks.”

              I put my big hand out to the tiny little girl. “Jackson will do. Hi.”

She looked at my hand which had to look like a giant paw to her and hid her little face behind her mother’s leg. “Nala, don’t be rude.”

              “Ah, don’t worry about it,” I told her with a smile down at the little girl who had now peeked one eye out to look up at me. I can’t remember ever being that small.

“Are you ladies ready?” Amara grabbed her bags from her porch and I took them from her. She’d talked to my mother on the phone and Mom had insisted we all stay the night that way Nala could have time to run and play on some of the trails in the morning. I
fI
had asked, Amara would have said no…Go mom!

“Are you sure you’re okay with those?” she was eyeing my knee.

I grinned and stiffened my jaw with a frown. Tough guy. “I’ve got it,” I told her and she smiled.