CHAPTER EIGHT
BRAXTON
I woke up Saturday morning stoked. I was ready for this fight and I was ready to put that ring on Emmi’s finger. She was still asleep when I got up and I tried to be as quiet as I could so I didn’t wake her up. I was going to go out for a run and then pick Callie up to have breakfast with me. She was the last person I wanted to talk to before I popped the question to Emmi. I wasn’t necessarily asking for her blessing, but I wanted her to feel like she was a part of it somehow. I was getting ready to leave Emmi a note when I felt her standing behind me.
“Hey, good morning, beautiful.” I turned around and pressed my lips to hers.
“Mmm, good morning to you. What big plans do you have this morning?”
“I was going for a run and then go take Callie a ticket for my fight tonight. What have you got going on?”
“I was going to take pictures of the basketball team today.”
“The basketball team? They’re like 0 and 5, aren’t they?”
She laughed and said, “So that means they don’t deserve to be photographed?”
“No, I was just wondering what the motivation would be.”
“It’s for their annual calendar. You know, some women find super tall men very attractive. Maybe I do too and these will be for my private collection,” she said with a mischievous smile.
I stepped into her personal space and kissed her again, hard. Then flexing my biceps I said, “I got your private collection right here.”
She giggled, kissed me again and said, “Yes you do,” in a sexy voice.
“Maybe I could postpone my run,” I told her.
She grinned again and said, “Sorry, babe, the basketball team is waiting. Have a good run and tell Callie I said hi.”
Pouting, I said, “Okay, enjoy taking pictures of the Goliaths and remember where your ‘collection’ is being kept. I’ll see you tonight if I don’t catch you before.” I watched her walk down the hall and to the bathroom. It was a beautiful view. She turned around in the doorway of the bathroom and blew me a kiss.
I sighed and went to get a bottle of water from the fridge. I would have to run twice as long now to get rid of the pent-up frustration. When I got back from my run, Emmi was already gone. She had left me a note with a smiley face on it taped to my bedroom door. It simply said, “I love you.”
I showered and after I got dressed I put Emmi’s note in my pocket. Things like that let me know for sure that I loved her. I couldn’t imagine ever carrying a note someone else had written in my pocket and just being happy, knowing it was there. I grabbed my keys and headed over to pick up Callie.
She was waiting outside when I got there because she knew how much I hated having to go inside. The old man was likely still asleep this early, but there was always the off chance he would open the door and ruin my whole day.
When she climbed up into the truck the first thing she said was, “Where’s Emmi?”
“Good morning to you too, dear sister.”
“Oh, good morning,” she said with a grin. “Where’s Emmi?”
“She had some pictures to take…of the basketball team.”
“Ohhh, lucky girl,” Callie said.
“Why is that lucky? They’re seven feet tall and about one-seventy soaking wet. What is attractive about that?” I wasn’t being facetious, I really couldn’t see it.
Callie opened her mouth and closed it twice. Finally, she said, “You wouldn’t understand because you’re too much of a man. Where are we going?”
“IHOP?”
“Yum, yes. I didn’t think you could eat pancakes and stuff like that before a fight.”
“I can’t, I’ll be having boiled eggs and meat. I need my protein. I just know you like your pancakes.”
“Thanks,” she said, sincerely.
We were both quiet for a minute, thinking about why pancakes were Callie’s favorite things. When we were small, if we got sick, our mom would make us pancakes and serve them with hot chocolate to us in bed in the morning.
When we got to IHOP we were shown right to our table and we ordered our drinks. Callie had hot chocolate and even though the weather was still really warm, I didn’t say a word. I ordered juice and water.
“I asked you to come this morning for a couple reasons. First, there’s something I want to tell you.”
“Okay, I have something to tell you too,” she said, sounding excited about it.
“Is it exciting?” I asked her.
She smiled, a genuine smile that I rarely saw on my sister anymore. “It is good news.”
“Okay, well, you go first then,” I told her.
“If you insist, Dad hasn’t had a beer in over a week. He’s been going on job interviews too and he cleaned the house while I was at school yesterday…like really cleaned it.”
I tried to control my facial expression. I could tell she was really happy about her “news” and I didn’t want to make her feel bad.
I made myself wait a beat and I controlled my voice as well when I said, “That’s good, Callie. He’s done this before though—”
“I know, Braxton!” she cut me off. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap, but I know, okay? I’ve been there all along, longer than you by the way. I know how he has made and broken promises, and broken our hearts along the way. But he didn’t make any show of it this time, he just did it. He’s gone to a meeting every night this week. His sponsor has been by the house a couple of times so that’s the only way I knew. I thought he was just going to the bar like usual. He got his unemployment check and stocked the house with groceries. He asked me if I needed anything for school. I think he’s finally worked through his grief.”
“You think that’s what this was, all this time, Callie? Grief?”
“I think that’s what started it. I’m not saying he didn’t become an alcoholic, but he wasn’t one before, right? He was a good dad when we were little, when Mom was alive. I just want that guy back.” Her eyes were tearing up and I couldn’t stand to see her cry. I would agree with almost anything to stop that.
So I said, “Sure, Cal. I want him back too and maybe you’re right. I hope you are.”
“Thank you. I know things are harder between you and Dad than they are me and him.”
“It’s been hard on all of us, Callie. I’m going to try and keep an open mind for you, Cal.”
“Thanks,” she said again. “So tell me your news.”
The waitress brought our food and set it on the table in front of us. Callie dug into her pancakes with gusto. I took a bite of my eggs and said, “I’m going to ask Emmi to marry me.”
Callie squealed like a little pig and jumped across the booth to hug me. We were attracting a bit of attention, but she didn’t seem to care. “I’m so happy! I love her; I was so afraid that you would end up with one of those brainless Barbie dolls you used to date and Christmas and all the other family holidays would be excruciating.”
I laughed and said, “More so than they are now?”
“You know what I mean. I like Emmi a lot. Thank goodness! I’m so happy!”
“Well, I haven’t asked her yet. There’s always the possibility that she will say no.”
“She won’t say no, she loves you.”
“What do you know about it?” I asked her with another laugh.
“Girls know these things. I can see it in her eyes. She loves you. You better be good to her though.”
“I plan to, but just out of curiosity, what would you do if I wasn’t?”
She made a face that I guessed was her ‘tough’ face, flexed her muscle and did a fist to hand punch.
“Scary,” I told her.
“I know,” she said. “My big brother is a champion fighter.”
“Not yet, almost. That’s the other thing. I have a ticket for you.”
“Aw, Braxton. I love you, I do, and I wish you all the luck in the world tonight, but I really cannot stand watching that.”
“I know,�
� I told her. “And I wouldn’t ask you to normally. But I’m proposing to Emmi tonight right after the fight, win or lose. I’d like you to be there for that.”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Okay, but this is no way an endorsement of your lifestyle.” She smirked.
CHAPTER NINE
EMMI
Zoe and I were sitting in my room. Tonight was Braxton’s big fight and he left a while before. I gave him what I thought was my best kiss and wished him luck before he left. I really, really wished that the fight would only go one round. I knew I should have been more excited since it was his last one, but my stomach was sick thinking about him getting pummeled again.
“So what was it you wanted to tell me?” she asked, bringing me out of my reverie.
“Oh! Guess what?”
“What?” she said, sarcastically.
“Well, never mind if you’re going to be like that,” I said. I was kidding and she knew it. She waited me out and at last I said, “I’m going to be the lead photography editor at the paper, head of the whole department.”
“Shut up!”
“I will not!” We both giggled, it was a silly routine we used to do in high school.
“When did this happen?”
“The day before yesterday. Sarah’s graduating and she’s recommending me as her replacement.”
“Wow, Emmi, that’s amazing. So proud of you, sista.”
“Thanks,” I said, gushing. “I’m proud of me too.”
“The day before yesterday? Why am I just hearing about it now?”
“I’m sorry. I hadn’t had a chance to tell Braxton yet.”
“Oh, I see,” she said. “Here we go, you’re in love and all of a sudden the best friend is old news, pushed right out of the fold.”
“Shut up!” I told her.
“I will not!” she said with a giggle.
We finished getting ready for the fight. I was a little reluctant and Zoe could sense it. She kept telling me to keep in mind that after tonight it would all be over and I’d never have to watch him fight again…even if we were married for a hundred years.
“Yeah right, married. He still hasn’t said a word about the ring. I’m pretty sure it was his mom’s or something and I was just letting my silly imagination get away with me.”
“You never know,” Zoe said. “Let’s get going or we’re going to be late.”
I unenthusiastically grabbed my camera bag and said, “I’m ready, let’s go.”
We were a little late, so when we got there, the place was already packed. Since Braxton was the hot ticket he had gotten a whole row reserved for his guests and as Zoe and I made our way toward it I was surprised to see the back of two heads already seated who looked very familiar.
“Mom? Dad? What are you guys doing here?”
My mother, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, looking much younger than her forty-two years said, “Braxton invited us, and we thought it would be fun.”
I looked at my dad who I knew might enjoy this and raised an eyebrow. “Braxton invited you guys? When?”
“He called me last week,” my dad said. He called him? Braxton called my father? That was just…weird. What was weirder was my passive mother who was dead set against any kind of violence, sitting in the audience, two rows away from the cages with a smile on her face.
“You don’t mind that we’re here, dear, do you?” My face must have been showing my concern. I didn’t mind they were here at all, it was just…strange.
“No, Mom. Of course not. I was just surprised. Braxton didn’t tell me he called you.”
“Well, not me dear, he called your father.”
I smiled. My mother was one of those concrete thinkers. “Okay, well, he didn’t tell me that either.” They both just shrugged. My dad got up and gave me a kiss on the cheek, which wasn’t weird, but then he grabbed me in a big hug, and whispered, “I love you, baby girl,” which wouldn’t have been weird if I hadn’t seen him for a long time, or was leaving on a long trip, but we just had dinner last week. It made me more curious.
CHAPTER TEN
BRAXTON
“You ready, kid?”
Sam and I were sitting in the back room, waiting for them to call my name. I was staring at his cauliflower ear, but not really looking at it. I was wondering what Emmi was going to say when I asked her to marry me. My stomach was in knots. Her parents were there, Zoe too and I even invited Callie. I wasn’t sure if she would come or not, she hated watching me fight, but I told her about proposing and she’s a nosy little shit, so she might show.
“I’m ready,” I said, not sure if I was talking about the fight, or proposing. “Hey, Sam, what happened to the juice bar girl?”
“Nothing happened to her. We’re still going out. She’s got it bad for old Sammy Boy!”
I smiled. “Well look at you, you big stud! How could she not.”
Sam glanced at himself in the mirror over the sink and smiled. When he did that, his nose pushed over to one side. The cartilage was completely gone on the other. Between that and his ear, he wasn’t as pretty as he may have once been, but his heart was good and I still felt bad about dashing his dreams of someday training a big contender.
He was still looking at himself, the smile faded and he said, “She sees something in me, I guess.”
“Then she’s a smart lady. Sam, I’m going to ask Emmi to marry me tonight. But don’t worry, my head’s in the fight. No matter what happens, I’m going to ask her.”
“Good for you, kid. You know I don’t have any hard feelings about the MMA thing. I respect that you can see it’s not for you. That’s okay. I’m not giving up on my dreams yet. Another hungry kid’ll come along…they always do.”
I smiled. “I believe that,” I said. “I just wanted to tell you, in case I don’t get a chance later, I appreciate the hell out of everything you’ve done for me.”
Sam wasn’t good with the praise, or any kind of mushy stuff. He mumbled a “Sure, kid, no problem,” and then shuffled off to do something that would lead me to stop talking. I was going to miss Sam. I would still visit him of course and work out with him to keep in shape, but it wouldn’t be the same.
I heard the announcer calling out for Gizmo and I knew I would be next. I wasn’t lying to Sam, I was ready and I was psyched.
“And now…the fight you’ve all come to see…please get on your feet for Gerardo Gozen…aka Gizmo!” I got on my feet and Sam threw a towel around my neck. We waited a beat and when the crowd simmered down we heard, “And the hometown boy…My personal favorite and no doubt most of yours…Braxton Gibbs!”
I jogged out with Sam behind me and the bouncers clearing the way. The crowd was on its feet, cheering loudly. I had tunnel vision until I got to the front and that was when I saw them…my family. Emmi, Zoe, Callie and Emmi’s mom and dad. Okay, they weren’t all family…yet, but they would be soon, I hoped. I smiled at Emmi and she smiled back. I don’t think she had any idea how much energy one of her smiles gave me. It was like drinking in pure adrenaline.
I climbed through the door and stepped into the octagon. Gizmo was giving me the stink eye, so I smiled at him just to be friendly, of course. He spat into his bucket. I guessed he was not the friendly sort. I sat in my corner, waiting for the ref to get things started. I caught Emmi’s eye again and sucked in another one of those amazing smiles. Her mom and dad were smiling at me too. It was nice to know they were in my corner. The ref was calling us out so he could do his thing and once he was done…I was ready to go.
I figured out quickly that Gizmo was a lot like the last guy I fought. He came out full-on ready to kick my ass. He had no intentions of conserving his energy, all he was looking to do was knock me on my ass early and then go out for a drink. A few seconds later I was up against the side of the cage, elbows tucked in with my arms and fists up in front of me protecting my face and head. Gizmo was firing punches like a mad man, no kicks, no pulling me in for a grapple; he wanted to knock me out, and fast.
I finally shot out a right jab and connected with the right side of his face. I didn’t think it hurt much, but maybe because it was his pretty side, it definitely pissed him off. He came at me that much harder, his arms and fists swinging in a constant barrage of punches, mostly aimed at my head but every now and again, they dropped to my ribs. I went back on the defensive as the sweat from his already fatigued body hit me almost as hard as his fists.
After another half-minute or so, I rolled off the side of the cage to his left. He threw a right cross which I batted away. It made me wonder why he didn’t throw a left, which would have driven me back and that was when it dawned on me that he had been babying that left arm the whole time. I let him chase me for a few, staying on his right side as much as I could. His left jab was weak and his left hook was almost nonexistent. I threw a triple combo at him, connecting with all three. The guy might not have had a left arm, but he could take a punch. All three connected with his face hard and none of them seemed to do more than cause him to be annoyed. He was striking out with his right foot as the buzzer sounded. I pulled back enough so that it barely grazed my left thigh. I was tired, but Gizmo had to be exhausted. As I went back to my corner I watched him totter over to his and sink down, waiting for his trainer to shoot a stream of water into his mouth.
“You trying to wear him out?” Sam asked as he handed me my towel and held the bucket out for me to spit.
“He’s wearing himself out. Most of this sweat on me is from him.”
Sam handed me my energy drink and said, “True, but be careful. He’s not as wild as the last one. Gizmo is going to last longer on just stamina alone. You’re going to have to connect a few good ones, make him hurt a little or he’ll keep pulling on those reserves and come back until you’re the one who is worn out just from defending yourself. I say put him down this round, don’t chance going to three because then it’ll be desperation that you’re both drawing from.”
Devoted (The MMA Romance Series - Book #6) Page 4
