Uncaged Love #4: MMA New Adult Contemporary Romance (8 page)

“Yes,” I say, and pass her a hefty sandbag weight. “Do some caveman slams with this.”

She struggles with the weight, but gamely lifts it high and throws it to the floor.

“Good,” I tell her. “Do twenty more.”

That’ll keep her busy.

A girl named Sammy finishes her sit-ups. She took a special interest in Lani back when both of us were working with her. I don’t expect Lani to come back now that Annie has told me they were in this together. But maybe this girl has had contact with her.

I give her a pair of kettlebells. “Triceps,” I tell her, and show her the move. Once she has begun, I ask her, “Have you seen Lani?”

“No,” Sammy says, her voice just starting to strain. “Weird she came back just for that one day.”

She’s right. We trained with these girls right up until Lani took me to the fight with Parker, then claimed to be gone for a funeral. That was clearly a lie. She was so angry with me just hours before Annie attacked me. I thought it was because I blew off Parker after she tried to set us up. But now, I wonder.

“Do two more sets,” I tell Sammy. “Rest sixty seconds in between.” I glance over at the other girls. They are all busy with their circuit work.

I head out to Buster’s office. He’s sitting in his chair, pushing papers around. He seems annoyed, rubbing his bald head like it’s a magic talisman that will make them all go away.

I knock on the doorframe.

He looks up. “Hey, Jo. Getting some good licks in?”

“Killjoy has decided he doesn’t hate me,” I say.

Buster laughs. “About time.”

I lean against the edge of his desk. “Did Nate ever find out about Lani?”

“He called a bit ago. He met with Parker’s trainer,” Buster says. “I wish he was here to tell you, but he’s meeting some promoter. I’ll try to keep it straight.”

My heart hammers. So, they know something.

“This Parker fellow is friends with the Berend family. Lani is their youngest. That was her real name, first name anyway. The rest of her form was made up.”

“So, she lied.”

“Definitely. She signed on right after I knew Colt was coming here, but before it was announced. She must’ve had inside information. I’m guessing that’s where her brother comes in.”

“I didn’t even know she had a brother.”

“A fighter. He goes by Striker.”

“Is he UFC? Or a beginner?”

“Well, actually, he kind of stalled out. Seems like he was trying to get a UFC spot and decided to force Colt to fight him. I guess he thought it would give him a leg up.”

So, none of this was random. I feel my hands go cold. “What happened?”

“You can ask Colt more about it, but basically Colt wouldn’t do it. Told Striker to build his skills and try again later.”

“That probably didn’t go over well.”

“Yeah, it got bad. Striker decided to go full-scale media on it. When Nate mentioned it, I started to recall it a bit. It got embarrassing for him in the end. But Colt’s hands were pretty tied. His manager would never let him fight someone that far down the chain.”

“You think Lani is trying to get back at Colt?”

“You lost me there. I thought you two were friends.”

I did too. “Thanks, Buster,” I tell him. “I should get back to the girls.”

“Stick tight to Colt,” Buster says. “I don’t like any of this.”

I nod and walk back to the addition. None of us do.

Chapter Fourteen
 

It’s not until we’re back at Colt’s condo that night that I get a chance to ask him about the lawyer.

“He’s going to look into all of it,” Colt says as we ride up in the elevator. “You’re not in the missing-children system now, and he didn’t see any warrants. But he’ll get back to us in a few days when he knows more.”

I follow him down the hallway to his condo. Now that my past is about to intrude on my present, I wish I could forget it all.

He stops outside his door to pull me in close. “I hate that stricken look you get. I wish I could make this all go away.”

“You already are,” I say.

He kisses the top of my head. “You know, we should forget all this until after your fight tomorrow. You need to focus.”

I give him a light jab to the ribs. “Yeah, we’ve seen what happens to your face when you don’t pay attention in a fight.”

His laugh rumbles through my body. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not as long as I’m breathing.”

Colt turns to unlock his door, then freezes.

The door is not pulled all the way closed.

We look at each other. Something isn’t right. My belly vibrates with fear, but I shut it down. I am not going to be afraid anymore. Colt and I can take on anyone.

Unless they bring in a weapon.

Colt flattens his hand against the door to push it open, but I grip his wrist and give a plaintive look. He pauses. Doubt flickers across his face for a moment. Maybe he’s thinking the same thing. None of our skills are any match for a gun.

But something comes over him. I don’t know if it’s rage, or if he’s thought through the people involved and decided he can take them. But he steps back and kicks the door open with a blast.

Paper flutters all over the room from the sudden movement. Colt charges inside, looking in every direction. I follow, trying to stay loose and ready. We both stand there as little colored bits drift back to the ground.

Nobody’s here.

Colt snatches at one of the papers. “It’s fake money,” he says, holding it up to me.

I recognize it immediately. “It’s Monopoly money,” I say. “I used to play that board game.”

We continue to scan the room, waiting to see if anyone will come out. But the room is quiet, the paper all settled to the floor.

Colt kicks at it with his boot. I turn to look at the lock. “It’s not broken or damaged,” I say.

“She had a key,” Colt says. His face is dark with anger. “We never stayed here, hardly ever. The condo was just in the family. But she had a key.”

“You didn’t have the locks changed?”

Colt moves through the room, listening. He walks to the bedroom door and flips on the light. “No. Didn’t think about it.”

“I’ll find a locksmith,” I say. “We’ll get someone out now.”

Colt nods. “Just tell them we’ll pay whatever to have it done tonight.” He disappears into the other room.

I scroll through my phone until I find a 24-hour locksmith. By the time Colt is finished searching the condo, a man who can rekey the door is on his way.

I kneel on the floor to start picking up all the fake money. “I guess we get the message.”

Colt is still agitated and on edge. He paces the room. “No, Annie is the one who’s going to get a message.”

“I’m not sure this is really about her.”

Colt whips around to face me. “What are you talking about?”

“Lani’s brother is Striker,” I say.

“I see.” He heads over to one of the tall windows and leans his forearms on the glass. “So, he’s got his sister working on some sort of revenge?”

“She probably knew about Annie. Figured she could be bought. I get the idea Annie needed money.”

“I’m not going to fight Striker. He’s a two-bit grappler who can’t handle himself in the cage.”

“I know.”

“It’s lose-lose all the way around. There’s a reason for the rules, the hierarchy.”

“I get that.”

He sighs against the window, fogging up the glass. “I didn’t handle that one right either. I should have let the managers deal with it.”

Most of the money is in a pile now. I stand up and walk over to Colt to wrap my arms around his waist. My cheek fits against the center of his back. “I’m sure you did what you had to do.”

“He showed up at one of the televised segments between me and another fighter.” Colt bangs his fist against the glass. “You know how those things can go. You’ve seen it.”

“I have.”

“Striker jumps the table, tries to pick a fight with me.” Colt reaches down and finds my hip behind him, squeezing it. “I’m sure the footage is still out there.”

“What happened?”

“The announcer got all excited and acted like Striker was getting to me.”

“Some of them suck.” Colt’s body is warm and unyielding as I hold on to him.

“They have their personalities. But Striker just wasn’t experienced in the game. He came up and started throwing jabs.”

I squeeze his waist. I picture a boy version of Lani, buzzing around Colt like a hornet. “You took him out?”

“With a single blow. He crumpled to the floor like a paper doll.” Colt leans his head on the glass. “I hated that it happened. I didn’t go for that strike. It just happened.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Right after Annie left. It was a shitty time for me.”

He stands up straight and turns around. “I thought all that was behind me. Behind us.”

“We’re going to get there,” I say.

He pulls me against him. “There’s always going to be something. One thing about heading to the top, there’s always someone trying to bring you down.”

I remember Buster saying the same thing when I’d only worked for him a few days. “I’m up for it,” I say. “Like Nate always says, ‘Screw the bozos.’”

This gets a real laugh out of Colt. “I’m with Nate on this one.”

Chapter Fifteen
 

My second fight is nothing like the first, when I had no fans of my own. So many people cram into Buster’s addition that even the girls I’m training have to stand in the back. Colt and Nate and I wait in the curtained-off section. I think Colt will be annoyed at how primitive the setup is compared to his big venues, but he seems elated.

“Now THIS is fighting!” he keeps saying.

Nate wraps my hands, his cigar hanging from his mouth. “Not like those slick places you’re used to, eh, Gunner?”

“Surely you started at the bottom,” I say. The rumble of the crowd outside has me a little more anxious than at my first match against Mad Mary.

Nate gives a big harrumph. “The Cure wouldn’t let Gunner have any seedy old place.”

Colt pushes back the curtain to look out. “We’re going to have to move your next fight,” he says. “No way you’ll fit the crowd in here.”

I try to stay centered. Diva Delaney is going to attempt to stay a step ahead of me, raining punches and keeping away from any knockout blows I might deliver.

Nate shoves the gloves on my hands over the tape. “You got this, Hurricane?”

I nod. “Watch for a hole in her pattern, and take her out in one blow.”

“Not as many knockouts in female MMA,” Colt says.

Nate pounds his shoulder. “There’s plenty. This here girl’s gonna be one of them.”

Buster sticks his face through the gap in the curtain. “You ready, Jo?”

I smack my gloves together.

The roar of the crowd when I come out, followed by Colt, is too much for the small place. I decide not to look out over the mass of chairs and people standing and jostling for a view. My focus stays tight, on my gloves, the edge of the cage, and then, the stairs. I pull off my sweats and hand them to Colt. I had imagined I would make some joke about him being my ring boy, but I find I’m too intent on the fight for a stray comment.

Colt understands and silently takes my jacket and pants, like a normal assistant would.

Nate walks around the cage, trying to yell to me over the crowd. I might not be able to hear him as well as before. I wonder if Colt has this problem in the big matches. Maybe eventually you don’t need that voice to help you through. Maybe it’s already in your head.

I’m not there yet, and now my nerves jangle, a curl of anxiety in my belly.

I take the steps up. Diva Delaney is already in one corner near her trainer, jumping up and down like a rabbit. She’s got her hair braided into coils. Her fight suit is all gray, adding to the bunny effect. Now that I see her in real life and not a video, I think I might have a few pounds on her. If it comes to a ground and pound, I will have an advantage.

I stand next to Nate, who talks to me through the cage. “Don’t let her tire you out. She’ll be all over the mat, but don’t chase her. Let her come to you.”

The ref motions us over. The room quiets down as Diva and I move to the center of the cage.

“I want a good clean fight,” he says.

The bell clangs, and Diva is a whirling dervish, circling me, punching air. I don’t move forward or back, just pivot with her, watching her hands.

Her arms are shorter than mine, so I can deflect her and still get jabs in. I feel a little worried about her. She doesn’t have a lot of strength. She gets in a blow to my ribs, and I barely even notice.

When she shifts to the right, I have plenty of time to step back and deliver a hard kick that sweeps her legs.

She falls straight to the ground.

The crowd roars. I know I can jump on her and finish this immediately. But I don’t. I’m feeling fine, and I want to learn more about her, get more minutes in the cage under my belt.

Still, I know I can’t ignore her fall. The audience won’t allow it. So, I step over and jab her pretty hard in the gut.

But I guess this motivates her. She jumps to her feet and doubles her speed, raining punches on me. Then she gets a really good blow to the side of my face.

While her hand is high, I nail her with a left jab in the ribs. When she drops her arm in response, I just do it. I deliver the most standard, basic, beginner move there is. Cross jab to her chin.

She stumbles. I assess her, trying to decide if I need to follow up. She takes two more steps back. The crowd is screaming. The ref closes in. I give her a moment, see if she’s going to recover. But she drops to her knees and signals submission.

The ref calls the win.

I drop my arms. I didn’t hear a word Nate might have said. I assessed this fighter and found a way to win, cleanly and simply. My adrenaline soars, and I feel elation so high that I think I can float right out of the cage.

The roar in the room is deafening. I turn to look for Colt. Nate is heading into the cage. Finally I spot Colt kneeling near the stairs. I am so overcome that he is there that I’m sure my face registers the emotion. He nods at me. He gets it.

The ref grabs my glove and lifts it in the air. Nate takes the other and lifts it. I look out over the crowd and think back to that day when I decided to do this. I’ve gotten here. I’ve made it.