Cutter: A Fight or Flight Novel (5 page)

Everything was going great. When I say great, I truly mean it. I was gearing up for my first fight. When I wasn’t working at the gym to earn my keep, I was training my ass off with Garrett and the other guys. And if I wasn’t there, I was with Josette. Everything was going great.

But now I’m not so sure. Sitting in the backseat of Garrett’s car with Josette while he drives us to the arena, I can’t help but wonder if I’ve done enough. Enough training, sparring. Do I have enough skill? Do I have what it takes? Josette stares at me, gauging my attitude. She pulls my hand into hers, laces our fingers together, and reassuringly squeezes. Slightly turning my head, I give her a weak smile and pull my hand away. I get what she’s trying to do, but I need to focus. Grabbing my earbuds from my pocket, I shove them in and start blasting my go-to song to drown out the sounds of everyone’s heavy, nervous breathing, which is doing nothing for my state of mind.

Mindlessly bobbing my head to the music, I’m blind to the world, concerned only with my objective: winning. The chorus of “Could Have Been Me” by The Struts hits and I silently mouth the words, feeling every ounce of what they’re singing. I don’t want to go out an untold story. I’d rather go out in a blaze of glory. I want it all: love, pain, pride, and shame. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and think it could have been me if I’d only put myself out there. I’m caught in my own world when Garrett, who’s been walking a few paces ahead of me, abruptly stops and I damn near trip over my own feet to stop from colliding with him. Rian and Josette laugh at my misstep, then continue ahead into the building as Garrett stays back with me to assess my mental state as any good coach would do.

“You have one job, kid. Bring home the win. You got it?” he asks.

“Absolutely. I’m ready.” I won’t walk out of here with regrets. My all—that’s what Garrett taught me and that’s what I owe him. I’ll win, or I’ll die trying.

He claps me on the shoulder and squeezes, his lips turning up in a proud smile. My will to prove that he and Rian didn’t waste their time on me suffocates my fear of going toe-to-toe with a stranger for the first time. I’m in prime condition—Garrett made sure of it—and there’s no way I’m walking away without fulfilling my word. I need to keep reminding myself that I’m being trained by the best there is, and fear will not beat me. I win.

Garrett got his hands on some film of my competition a few weeks back. So, luckily, I’ve watched video of the guy I’ll be fighting, and, while he’s a good boxer with a strong hook, his floor game isn’t nearly as strong as mine. Every person he’s defeated has been by knockout. I just have to keep my head in the game, keep him from striking, and get him to the ground. Then it’s over.

Rian, as little as she is, and with the disability of having lost an arm, has taught me that you don’t need to be the biggest or the baddest to win. The person who comes out on top is the one with the strongest fight inside them. Standing a little over six feet, I’m a few inches shorter than Garrett, but with his training, I need to be confident in my skills.

“I gotta run and change. See ya out there, Cutter,” Josette says, giving me a brief hug before she continues to the changing room for the ring girls. Then we’re stepping into our makeshift locker room. I damn near punched a hole through a wall when she told me she’d be working as a ring girl tonight. She gave some excuse about needing the extra money, but the idea of her walking around half-naked for people other than me has me feeling some kind of way, and I don’t like it. I have absolutely no right to be pissed, she’s not my girlfriend, and yet I can’t make the jealousy stop. Maybe this is another one of Garrett’s ideas to keep me on my toes. What’s a good way to ensure a man will rip off the head of another without a second thought? Jealousy.

I glance up just in time to watch her saunter down the dark hall, and my dick begs for the attention of her swaying hips. God, she’s fucking beautiful. Tiny as hell, short blond hair, and the most hypnotizing eyes I’ve ever seen. Garrett was right to let her work tonight, because I would love nothing more than to bury myself inside her. Knowing I can’t makes me more irritated than I can even put into words. Garrett’s a sadistic, evil genius. As she rounds the corner and goes out of my sight, I could rip someone’s head off just to get a quick taste of her.
Take it out there, Cutter. Use this. That’s the point. Too many hormones racing through your body, a lot of need and want, and not nearly enough release, makes for a focused, lethal fighter.

“Ten minutes, Cutter,” Rian says, heading out toward the main arena. I nod, pull my shirt over my head, slip out of my sweatpants, and stick the earbuds back in my ears. Shrugging into an oversized hoodie, I zip it nearly all the way up and take a seat on the bench, bouncing my leg while the Struts song finishes. A few seconds later it cues up again. I pull the hood over my head, shielding my face from the light, and close my eyes. Behind my closed lids, I envision the fight, go over the videos I’ve watched, and prepare myself to take anything and everything he throws at me, giving just as good as I get. Over and over I tell myself to stay out of his reach. If he can’t hit me, he can’t win. Take it to the mat, put my grappling skills to the test, and prove exactly why I’m here. Well, not exactly why, but still. I don’t deserve this shot, but it’s mine and I’m taking it.

I owe so much to Garrett and his family. This fight is how I can pay him back—show my gratitude for bringing me into the fold with open arms instead of kicking me to the curb when I almost screwed all this up for him. More important to me than my own family, they’re the ones that deserve my absolute best.

Fight like you’ll never get another chance. Leave it all out there.
That’s how Garrett trained me.

Garrett taps me on the shoulder, nodding toward the door. It’s time to go. Taking a few deep breaths and trying not to psych myself out, I stand and follow him into the hallway.

Walking by Garrett’s side, I peek over at him, and his facial expression reads the same as mine: lethal and ready for battle. Either because he’s an amazing coach or because of all his time in the service, he’s not someone I’d like to meet in an unfortunate circumstance…again. As we approach the steel double doors to the arena, the screams and cheers get louder. The moment the doors open, the hollers from the crowd overpower the music in my ears. My entire body begins to vibrate with a nervous excitement like I’ve never felt before. When I look around, my stomach rolls, giving me the feeling that I need to puke, and then I see her. Josette…standing off to one side of the cage, wearing next to nothing. It doesn’t take a genius to notice every person with a dick is watching her, imagining what it’d be like to be with her. She’s laughing with another girl, but her eyes catch mine and she genuinely smiles. The ache in my gut disappears almost immediately.

Taking a few more deep, calming breaths, I step ahead of Garrett and make my way to the gate. Walk up the small staircase, drop my hoodie and earbuds into Garrett’s open palm, and step into the fenced octagon. The moment I’m inside, I go to my corner and wait for my opponent. The crowd lights up like the Fourth of July when he steps into sight and I watch him strut out with more confidence than he should have, his ego-boosting posse not far behind. Then, just before he enters the cage with me, his gaze fixes on Josette and instead of going to his designated area he stalks toward her like a lion advancing on his prey.

I flex my fingers into a fist, doing it a few times until I know the circulation is working properly. Shaking out the nerves, leaving only anger and frustration, and of course too many hormones and a dick begging for one girl and one girl only, I bounce up and down on the balls of my feet and pump my arms. I can only imagine how great it’s going to feel to have his neck in the crook of my elbow as I choke the life out of him. I had a similar feeling when I was in the cage with Colt, but these feelings…nothing at all like I’ve felt before. This guy—he’s a dead man walking.

With us on opposite sides of the cage, the ref enters and chats with the other guy, Jasper, for a moment before making his way over to me. “I want a clean fight. I trust you know the regulations. We are recording for local access.” He runs down his expectations and I nod as I pop in my mouth guard.

Josette and the other girl both grab signs with the number one written on them and begin to prance around the outer edges of the mat, inciting catcalls from the crowd. She nears me, the small black top pushing her ample breasts higher than usual, her hair resting just above her ears, and the tiniest shorts known to man hugging her hips in the most delicious way. When she’s only a foot away, she tosses me a sexy little wink and steps even closer.

“When you win, I have a little present for you,” she slyly flirts and walks away, stepping out of the cage with the other girl. Probably the last thing I needed to hear. I’m already on edge, and her little comment has me on the verge of tossing her over my shoulder, forfeiting the fight, taking her to the locker room, and exploding.

Yeah, I’ve got something for you, too,
I think, and stop myself from grabbing my groin and thrusting my hips in her direction out of instinct.

When I meet my opponent in the center of the cage, the ref checks our taped hands. We touch them together and the bell rings so quietly I almost miss it, and nearly get knocked out without even a second on the clock. Stepping out of his reach, I dance just past his outstretched arm. He tosses a few more jabs in my direction, no doubt judging my skill, and I back away each time his fist comes toward me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Josette offer a man in the crowd a warm smile, and it’s enough to distract me for the second my opponent needs to land a punch on my jaw. Stumbling backward, I right myself just before he advances for his next combination and take advantage of his stance.

Rushing toward his middle, I attack his center of gravity and take him to the mat.

“Take his arm, Cutter,” Garrett screams on the other side of the chain link. It’s not his arm I want—I’m going for the jugular, in a way. I want nothing more than for him to tap the mat, give up, and go home without the purse and definitely without the girl.

Don’t let the fight consume you.
The memory of Rian’s words and Garrett’s encouragement ring loudly over the excitement in the cage. Trying to shake Rian’s tagline from my head, I’m distracted long enough for this asshole to get one over on me.

He counters, I lose my footing, and it’s me who winds up on my back. Fighting to stop him from getting a full mount, I lose the battle when his legs straddle my waist.

Nope. I’m not going out like this.
Think, Cutter. Get out, Cutter. Win, Cutter. Get that prize from Josette, Cutter
. I keep chanting these things in my head until I realize his weakness. Smiling, I offer a counter of my own…and shove him completely off me. Standing and righting my balance immediately, I don’t waste a single second while he tries to recover.

While his back’s to me, I rush him like a furious bull seeing red, sliding into him and wrapping my legs around his middle. Before he has a moment to react, I have him locked in my crosshairs. Getting my forearm around his throat, the inner crease of my elbow cradling his Adam’s apple, I squeeze so tight the veins in my arm strain against the skin, and, just like I’ve been taught, I secure the hold with my opposite hand.

The ref kneels in front of us, intently watching the interaction, making sure I’m not breaking the rules and that he’s still breathing. After a few seconds, Jasper stops flailing and trying to break free. Then it happens: one minute twelve seconds since the bell rang, Jasper taps my arm and the ref waves his hands. Even though I don’t want to, I loosen my hold and scoot backward.

Jasper falls to the side as he catches his breath, and I look to my corner to see Garrett’s proud smile beaming back at me. Scanning the crowd, I find Josette bouncing up and down near Rian in the front row, punching the air and screaming.

In the center of the cage, the ref grabs both my and Jasper’s wrists as the announcer gives the decision on the fight.

“At one minute, twelve seconds, our champion by submission is…Cutter Greer.” The ref thrusts my arm in the air and the crowd erupts, mostly with cheers. Some people boo, but the vast majority are happy with the outcome, as am I.

I exit the cage to a welcoming embrace from Garrett, and with one arm wrapped around my shoulder while playfully punching me in the stomach with the other and telling me how proud I made him, we make our way back to the locker room, where Rian’s waiting.

“Now that’s how the fuck you do it,” she screams, and runs to me the second I enter the small room. “First fight and a first-round submission. Dude, you’re pretty fucking amazing.”

“It wasn’t as strange as I thought it would be,” I confess, pulling my street clothes out of the bag.

“Okay, you change,” Rian demands, pointing to me, then turns to Garrett. “I’ll get everything set up and Josette and I will meet you back at the gym. There’s gonna be a celebration tonight, boys.” Giddily, she exits the room and I can hear her screaming as she moves down the hall to the exit.

“I’ll meet you outside. Someone’s gonna have to rein that woman in,” Garrett jokes, clapping me on the shoulder before he runs after his wife.

I pull the sweatpants over my shorts and put on my T-shirt and hoodie. While I’m lacing up my shoes, Josette breaks through the door like a bat out of hell. “I am so fucking proud of you.”

I stand to greet her and the second my feet hit the floor, she jumps into my arms and presses her lips to mine. Startled, I steady myself and grab onto her waist. All I can think about is the encouragement she gave me just before the fight. Just as I’m about to ask her what my surprise is, Garrett comes back through the door.

“Ahem.” He clears his throat, announcing himself loudly.

Josette jumps out of my arms, straightening her shirt and fiddling with her hair. “Oh, hey,” she innocently says. “I have to go meet Rian, but wanted to tell Cutter congrats on his big win.”