Take Me On (31 page)

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Authors: Katie McGarry

BOOK: Take Me On
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West

Even though I talked to John on the phone and told him I’m still competing next Saturday and would appreciate his help, I’m apprehensive as I walk into the gym. He agreed to see me but didn’t agree to what I asked.

The moment the door shuts behind me, I drop my head. Damn. In the ring and in full gear, Kaden and Jax knock out a kick series.

John’s office sits dark and, if I’m manning up, forward is my only option. I broke the heart of a person they love. If I’m lucky, I’ll leave here with bones still intact.

I weave through the bags and call out to them, “Is John here?”

Their heads snap up in unison. The scratching of Velcro being undone breaks through the silence. Jax flies under the ropes and throws his headgear and gloves to the side. “Gotta death wish, Young?”

I show him the palm stop sign. “I’m here to talk to John. He knows I’m coming.”

With sweat pouring down his body, Jax mock glances around the gym. “Don’t see him.”

“Look, I made a mistake. I broke up with Haley because my dad said he’d pay for her college if I did.”

Jax advances on me like I said nothing. “I think you’re full of shit. I think now that Haley’s gone you want the benefit of this gym without having to respect the girl.”

“Where’s John?”

“Dunno. He told us to be here. Guess he wanted to give us an early Christmas present.”

Fuck. I’ve been set up. Jax widens his stance and I mirror the position and tighten my fist. Haley’s voice screams in my head to hold up my guard, but I don’t want to invite the hit. I’m not searching for a fight. “I’d get on my knees in front of Haley, tell her the truth and beg her to take me back if I could.”

Fire blazes out of his eyes. “Wrong choice of words.”

Jax swings and my guard goes up. I duck below the hit and sidestep out of the way. “I don’t want to fight you.”

“Too bad.”

He throws the cross and I block and meet the jab. Jax gains the low kick, but I quickly spin out of reach. “Fight!” Jax yells. “Are you a fucking man or not?”

“I’m not fighting you. I’m not here to fight
you.

We begin the dance. He attacks, and I counter but keep my blows to the block. Jax goes for the cross again, but in a snap he’s at my knees and I’m down. Dammit. I roll to keep him from gaining position and jump to my feet, guard up, ready to go again.

I do a double take when Jax leans against the ring and drinks from a water bottle. “Haley’s right. He sucks at the floor.”

Kaden slips under the ropes. “I needed more time. Never said I was a miracle worker.”

“We’ve got a week. Surely you can teach him some crazy shit by then.”

“Something’s better than nothing.” He nods at me. “You’re lucky she taught you how to block so damn well. You’re going to need it against Matt. He’s got a mean hook.”

I lower my arms when John emerges from the locker room. “She hasn’t taught him how to block a hook or an undercut. She was sticking to basics.”

Jax’s shoulders shake as he laughs. “Basics against Matt. Maybe she wanted him to die.”

Son of a bitch. “What the hell is going on?”

“Checking to see if you’re salvageable,” answers John. “And good thing for you, you kept that temper in check. Otherwise, your ass would be out of my gym.”

“Did you really break up with her because your dad would pay her tuition?” Kaden asks.

All three of them stare at me in silence and I keep my fists tight in case they don’t agree with my decision. “Yeah, but by showing here I’ve negated the deal.”

“She wouldn’t have accepted the money,” says Jax. “Haley has more class than that.”

She has more class than to be with me. Jax may not have thrown a physical hit, but he landed a blow full of guilt. “I know that now.”

“Does this look like the YMCA, girls?” asks John. “We’ve got a week until the fight.”

Jax straps on his gear and I angle my body so John knows I’m talking to him alone, but I have no doubt Jax and Kaden are listening. “I don’t deserve her forgiveness, but when this is done...tell Haley I kept my word and she’s worth fighting for.”

John pats my shoulder as he enters the ring. “That she is. Now get changed and get your ass on my floor.”

Haley

I have never envied anyone in my life like I envy Maggie. Lying next to me, Maggie’s arms are flung over her head. One socked foot hangs off the bed; the other sockless foot has broken free of the blankets. Only her middle is covered. She breathes lightly, rhythmically and I wish I could share such deep, dreamless sleep.

When I sleep, I dream of West: of his smile, his laughter, his hands on me. We kiss and we touch and when our bodies are intertwined, West whispers he loves me and every time...I wake up feeling cold and alone and with tears.

Tonight, maybe I won’t sleep. Insomnia sounds like a wonderful habit.

For once, sleep isn’t a problem for my father. He’s turned away from me, tucked tightly in a ball on the other bed. Maybe this will mean he’s on some sort of road to recovery. Unfortunately, I’m pretty numb on hope.

“I don’t know, Dad...” Mom dragged the phone with her into the bathroom. She’s called John every night since we left and each night she emerges with red, puffy eyes. After John’s car broke down, we spent almost a week at my mother’s cousin’s house. Now, we’re back on the road. The door to the bathroom clicks open and a ray of light floods the cramped room.

“Haley,” whispers Mom. “Kaden wants to talk to you.”

I slide off the bed and Mom squeezes out of the bathroom as I slip in.

“Are you sure?” I ask. Kaden avoids conversation in person. He loathes phones.

Her answer is the closed door. Limited on options, I sit on the edge of the tub and press the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“You need to come home, Hays. It’s West. He’s taking the fight.”

* * *

West Young broke up with me in a deal he made with his father. He was to leave the life he built behind and his dad would have paid for my college tuition. I briefly close my eyes. Stupid boy. Stupid, insanely sweet, going to get his ass kicked by me, stupid boy and I’m in love with him and West lied to me knowing I’d never agree.

He’s right. I wouldn’t have and I wonder how he thought I would have accepted the money, but none of that matters now.

Sitting on a bench outside the bus station, I grip the backpack hanging between my bouncing knees. It’s full of my clothes and the few precious items I won’t be separated with. When our house foreclosed, I had boxes and boxes of stuff I claimed as important. Funny how priorities change.

In the space in front of me, the bus’s motor purrs. Mom and I left a half hour ago, leaving a note for Dad. Maggie’s curled up on the bench beside mine, sound asleep and cradling her American Girl doll. The early morning air nips at my skin and I rub at the forming goose bumps.

Mom exits the office, sits on the bench next to me and lays the ticket on my lap. “Tell your grandfather I’m now trusting him with over half of my heart. It was hard enough to leave Kaden and Jax behind. Now the scale is completely imbalanced.”

Guilt eats at me as I handle the ticket. It was cheap, but it’s still money we don’t have. But Mom agreed. Returning for me is necessary. My knees continue to bounce as a chaotic ticker crosses my mind: I’m leaving my parents... I’m leaving my mom.

“Will you promise me something?” she asks.

“Sure.” Anything.

“Don’t listen to the lie in your head keeping you from discussing what happened with you and Matt. Speaking out takes courage, but fear can make a compelling argument. I’m not saying it will be easy, but telling the truth gives you power...It sets you free.”

I nod, unable to say anything back. I can’t imagine saying the words out loud, but I can’t imagine living like this forever.

“Are you going back for West?” she asks.

“Yes... No...” The answer is both, but I say the simple truth. “I’m doing this for me.”

“Good. You’re a strong girl. Please don’t forget that.”

But I don’t feel strong. A huge part of me wants to crawl onto my mother’s lap and cling to her for dear life. All those years of holding her hand, the squeeze of her fingers stopping me when I attempted to cross the street before looking, the glances of approval, the hug after a hard day...her gentle presence in my life... I’m willingly leaving it behind.

My throat tightens. “What if I’m not ready to be on my own?”

“You’ve been on your own for a while and you’re just now figuring it out. You’ll always be my baby, Haley, just like I’ll always be your mom.”

She wraps her arm around me and I rest my head on her shoulder. When I was younger, my mom read to me every night. Back in our old home, back when life was simpler. She snuggled in my bed and brought peace and security. “Why did it have to change?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers. “But it did and all we can do is go forward.”

“I’m trying.” Air is harder to inhale. “But how do I walk away from you?”

“You aren’t walking away, baby. You’re growing up. But remember, I don’t care if you’re eighty and I’m a hundred and thirteen. I will always hold you, I will always love you and I will always be right here.”

West

I straddle a chair as John wraps the yellow strip of material across my hand. An official watches us in the corner to make sure John stays within regulation. He pulls each new layer taut and concentrates like he’s performing surgery. Outside the crowd roars and there’s no mistaking the anger. They hate it when the match goes to the floor. Matt and I are the last amateur fight on the card and the waiting is slowly killing me.

“She trained you well.” John never mentions Haley by name. It’s as if saying her name creates pain. Part of me wants to tell him I understand. “Stick with the combinations she taught you, keep up your guard and keep your emotions in check.”

The wrap is new and John applies it tighter than what I’m used to, but without the gloves, I’m going to need firm. I swallow, thinking how Haley tried to warn me off this. The realness and heaviness of the situation sinks in. The moment I enter the cage, I might as well be dodging traffic on a busy interstate.

The only solace I have is if the fight does go in the wrong direction that I’m doing what needs to be done. I’m not a man because I’m walking into the cage. I’m a man because I’m standing up for Haley and myself. No more relying on my parents and their money. No more letting a past I can’t control dictate my choices and future. No more being a child.

I called Mom an hour ago and told her I loved her and I told her to tell Dad the same thing. I made peace with her as she cried and, somehow, I found peace within myself. My lone regret is not being able to hold Haley again and whisper to her those three precious words.

The door to the small room at the convention hotel opens and Jax in full Mohawk mode strolls in. “After this fight, you’re on deck.”

John finishes with the wraps and slips his hands into the practice pads. “It’s time to warm up.”

The official pulls the cap off a black marker with his teeth and signs his name over my wraps. I’m regulation, not illegal, and one step closer to the cage.

After practicing with gloves, my hands feel naked and vulnerable. John holds up the pads and I widen my stance. Attempting to ignore the nerves, I blow out air. I could kid myself and say this is all for Haley, but this is also for me.

* * *

John stands in front of me and I’m flanked by Jax and Kaden. Behind the door to the hotel convention center, I sport hand wraps, a cup and a pair of wrestling shorts. I swing my arms, trying to keep them loose though tension begins to build in my neck.

Doing a bad job parroting a real MMA announcer, the master of ceremonies comes off like a sleazy carnival gamer as he advertises my weight and city.

Jax pops his head to the right and opens the door as my name is called. “Let’s do this.”

The crowd screams and whistles when I hit the floor and stalk toward the octagon cage in the middle. I notice everyone, yet I notice no one. All of it is flashes of color and movement. Music pounds through the speakers, and, in a moment of clarity, I recognize the song.

I glare at Jax and he’s smiling like a damn hyena. “Sorry, couldn’t help it. You scream Rocky.” He slams a hand on my back. “Get a sense of humor. You’re going to need it in there.”

John and the ref exchange a few words before the ref motions to me. “Arms up.”

I do as he asks, holding them straight out to my sides, then widen my feet. His hands skim my body, frisking me for foreign items. A quick scan checks my ears, that I’m wearing a cup and that my nails are trimmed and that the wraps haven’t been tampered with.

When I’m cleared, John steps in front of me and offers my mouthpiece. I accept it and he moves his mouth as if talking while he applies a coat of Vaseline on my face. The noise in the room mixes together and nothing is clear or coherent. John looks me in the eye and says, “Got it?”

I nod. He glances at Jax and I don’t miss the subtle shake of his head.

“Good luck and Godspeed,” says John.

I walk up the three steps and enter the cage. Nervous adrenaline courses in my veins and I continue to work my muscles to keep the blood flowing. Matt stands on the opposite side of the cage with his back toward me.

The ref calls Matt over and the son of a bitch smiles when he sees me. “Have you pissed yourself yet?”

I smile right back. “Fuck you.”

“Guess we both fucked Haley, huh?”

A surge of anger rushes through me and I roll forward on the balls of my feet. The ref slams a hand into my chest and shouts, “Do we got the rules?”

“Got it.”

“Got it,” answers Matt.

“Keep it in line,” yells John and I silently curse myself for doing exactly what Haley had warned me about for months.

The ref claps his hands and slides out of the way. Matt and I extend our arms and bump fists. Haley talked about a peacefulness in the cage. All that surrounds me is chaos.

Haley

My heart pounds so hard I have no doubt people can see it past my skin. I fly through the doors of the convention center and a security guard blocks my way as I sprint toward the table.

“I’m a coach!” I skid to a halt. “Haley Williams. I’m with West Young.”

“He’s on now,” says the security guard. The girl at the front flips through the paperwork and I will her fingers to move faster.

A wave of nausea causes tingling in my head. I grab on to the table to stay upright. “How long?”

“It’s been a while. He’s getting the hell beat out of him.”

“Damn.” I breathe out.

“Here!” The girl hands me the yellow pass, the security guard steps out of my way and I’m running again, carrying the badge up over my head, yelling at anyone who tries to stop me.

The crowd is on their feet, screaming at the two men thrashing it out in the center of the room. Most have taken to standing on their chairs, making it impossible for me to catch a glimpse as I push through to gain access to the front.

As I get closer, West holds his guard as Matt doles out a three-one combo. The power behind his punch is brutal, and West is able to throw a jab to push Matt back. West ducks out of the way from another assault and is able to gain enough space between them to hopefully create an offensive attack.

My feet continue to move underneath me, and, as I open my mouth to scream instructions to West, my body rams into something and I stumble back.

“Only fighters and coaches.” Another security guard obstructs my path, not caring about the yellow badge I throw in his face.

“John!” I lean around him. “John!”

John keeps shouting instructions at West and Jax turns his head at the sound of my voice. He jumps off the platform outside the Octagon and points at me. “She’s with us.”

I latch on to Jax and he pulls me past the guard and into the inner circle. Sitting in the front row, Conner’s eyes meet mine. With the glare I send him, he looks away first.

“How’s West doing?” I ask.

“Not good.” Jax hauls himself onto the platform and offers his hand to help me up. “He’s blanked out and not listening to a word John says. West is moving, but he’s getting the hell beat out of him in the process. There’s no way he can last three rounds of this.”

My fingers curl around the cage and my heart becomes sick. The skin around West’s right eye swells and his lip is busted. His body droops forward and fatigue slows his movements, causing him to drop his guard. Sweat drips off his body like a faucet. “Tap him out.”

“Thirty seconds left, Hays,” says John. “He can do it.”

But I don’t want him to do it. “What round?”

“Second.”

The metal wire cuts into my fingers. Dear God in heaven.

Matt mock throws a cross, West deflects it wrong and Matt lunges for his middle. “Get out of the way!”

The entire cage vibrates as their bodies slam onto the fence. In a smooth, fluid motion, Matt pins West and pounds him, hook after hook to West’s guarded face. West’s knees begin to buckle and if he falls to the floor it’ll be over for good.

“Knees, West! Use your knees!”

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