“I wanted to talk to you too, actually.”
“You did?” I asked, my already aching heart absorbing the blow. It was bad enough that I knew what had to happen. The idea that Matty knew it too put the wax seal on it. It was all official-like then.
The end of us.
My throat ached with unshed tears as I waited for him to continue.
“I'm thinking the Saturday thing was a mistake.”
And there it was.
Tears rushed to my eyes and I nodded, but I couldn’t squeeze any words out.
“I thought it would be enough, you know?” he said, sitting back and raking his hand through his hair. “I thought I could sleep with you and work with you and not get attached, but I gotta be honest, it's not working for me.”
Blood rushed to my ears and I just wanted to get out of the car and run far away so I didn’t have to hear the rest of it. I forced myself to sit still as he continued.
“Look, this isn't easy for me to admit.” He blew out a sigh and leaned toward me again, close enough that I could smell his aftershave and it sent another wave of sadness crashing over me. “You’re Mickey Flynn's daughter, for fuck's sake. But I like you. Way more than I should. And I think, if you like me too, we’ve got to stop being stubborn and take the bull by the horns. Figure out a way to make it work.”
His brilliant green eyes drilled into me like lasers as I stared at him in shock. Was this seriously happening right now? This had gone from a night that filled me with dread to one that filled me with hope so quickly it made my head spin.
“I don’t even know what to say. That’s not what I thought…” I wet my lips and shook my head slowly. “There’s so much to all this. Mickey would go nuts if he found out.”
“I can handle Mickey.”
Could he? I winced when I thought of the possible fallout. “No.”
He sucked in a breath and went to pull away but I stopped him with a hand on his wrist.
“Not ‘no’ to you. I want to be with you, but Mickey...”
“So we won’t tell him until we figure some things out. No one will think twice about seeing us together. You’re at the gym all the time anyway. And your weekends are basically your own, aren’t they?” He leaned in to press his forehead against mine, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Come on, Red. What do you say?”
It was almost perfect. Everything that I’d been wanting since that first night we’d spent together. So I ignored every single warning bell blaring in my head and went with my heart.
“I say we go in and watch the fight, because we need to do whatever it take to freaking win this thing. And I say we go back to my apartment and make like it’s a Saturday night.”
“Yeah?” His lips curved into that smile that made my soul soar.
“Yeah.” I nodded, letting my eyes drift shut as he closed the last of the distance between us and pressed his lips to mine.
There were still things that needed to be dealt with. So many things. Mickey and throwing the fight and Matty’s contract…
I shoved those thoughts back and melted into his kiss. For the next week, I was going to live like there was no tomorrow. Let myself just enjoy Matty and being in love and holding his hand and making him breakfast.
And then, the day after Matty won the fight against Willie, I was going to go have a shootout with Mick.
I’d appeal to his business sense first. Pride was important. But money was everything, and if I could show him how far Matty had come already and how far I thought he was going, he’d change his mind. I’d make him see that letting Matty take the MMA world by storm was the best and only decision he could make.
It would go one of two ways. He’d stand behind Matty and let him fight for real. And if not?
Well, then he was about to lose a daughter.
Chapter Seven
Matty
“Tighter.”
Felix grunted and unfurled the tape from my hand before starting again, wrapping with a meticulousness that seemed impossible with his big, gnarled hands.
“You only got twenty more minutes, so if you want me to do it right, stay still.”
I was trying my damnedest, but my body felt like it was plugged into an electrical socket. I was so wired and jumpy, I could barely keep it together.
After weeks of prep and training, it was finally here. My fight with Willie Martin, and I was ready. More than ready. I was in the zone.
If I was half as confident about anything else in my life as I was about this fight, shit would’ve been coming up roses. Instead, my stomach roiled the second I let my focus drift away from the task at hand.
Kayla.
Things had taken off between us over the past week and I think I’d slept alone one night, if that. When she wasn’t at work, she was with me, and was quickly becoming an integral part of my day. I’d even gotten her to start training with me so she could work toward landing a fight of her own. But how long could we go on like that? Skulking around behind Mickey’s back, afraid to go to a restaurant or out for a walk in case someone saw us holding hands?
No matter how many times I tried to convince her to tell him and let me handle the fallout, she wouldn’t budge. She kept saying we’d talk about it soon, but something told me soon would never come. She was afraid for me. Afraid to lose her father. The only way we were ever going to be able to go public was if I told her what I’d found out about Mickey.
How could I do that knowing it was going to break her heart? And how could I continue to hide it from her, knowing that he was a clear and present danger to her?
I squeezed my eyes closed and let the ritual of the hand-taping soothe me.
“He looks strong, but you look better, mijo,” Felix said, tearing off the roll of tape and motioning for me to flex my hands. “Feel good?”
I nodded and he patted my face gently, his rheumy gaze locking with mine. “Now’s your time to shine, Matteo. Let’s make it happen.”
I slid off the chair I’d been sitting on and straightened. Tonight was about starting down the path of success in my career, but it was also a ray of hope for me and Kayla. Once I won here, and kept landing better fights, soon enough we’d be traveling the big circuit. Vegas. Atlantic City. New York. The nine months I owed him on my contract would fly by, and me and Kayla would be out of sight, out of mind. Once I was a winner, maybe he wouldn’t even care that I was dating his daughter.
This nightmare that was Mickey Flynn would seem like a bump in the road.
A sharp rap on the door jerked me from my reverie. “You’re up, McDaniels!” a voice called.
Felix led me out into the short hallway and drew back a curtain that opened to the small, packed arena. A spotlight flashed on me, and I let the energy and the roar of the crowd feed my spirit. Hometown boy fighting in Southie, and the love of my people—flawed and dented as it might be—was like a balm to my battered soul.
I stepped into the ring to the strains of Shipping off to Boston and tried to block everything else out. The roar of the crowd. The smell of too many people in a room in the summertime. The stone cold stare of the guy seated in the opposite corner.
Most of all though, I tried to block out her. The weight of her gaze was like a physical touch and I could sense her fear and anxiety like it was my own.
“In this corner...”
The referee's voice faded as I breathed through my nose and out through my mouth, centering myself. First step? Win this fight. Fighting was like climbing a ladder and if you slipped one rung this early on, it meant getting knocked to the ground floor again. I didn’t have time for that shit. Not when a life with Kayla was like a carrot dangling in front of me, just out of reach.
When the bell finally rang, I leapt up and charged to the center of the ring. One thing I knew from watching all the video, Willie liked to take his time. Lay back, watch and wait. You could almost see the gears grinding behind those ebony eyes as he soaked up the information and calculated his response.
The more time I gave him to do that, the worse off I'd be. I had to come out like Mike Tyson in the eighties. Raw, unleashed and relentless power, in his face until all he wanted was to get away.
I let a combo fly the second I was within reaching distance. The jab missed him but the cross connected and tapped him sharply on the jaw, snapping his head back. My knuckles stung, always a reliable indicator of a solid shot. Good start.
He dropped back and tried to dance around me again, but I stuck to the program, rushing at him like a bull. Two shots to the right kidney, but I took one in return, straight to the solar plexus. It knocked the breath out of me and I stepped back for a second, keeping my hands up defensively until I could suck in some oxygen. Had to be more careful of that left hand.
The next time he didn’t wait. He came toward me, anticipating my movements in a way that threw me for a second. Kayla was right. He was quick to adapt, and if I was going to stay on top I had to make sure I was one step ahead.
Don't be afraid to try new things if the old things stop working.
Her advice played over in my head and I fell back a few steps to re-evaluate. One thing was for sure, Martin was favoring his left side. His fist stayed seated right over his ribs which was a different stance than I'd seen from him in the past. Was he protecting something?
We circled each other and I moved in, checking him in the ribs with my knee, never letting my gaze stray from his face.
And there it was. A distinct wince from what was a moderate blow at best, and one that hadn't even hit him clean.
He'd come into the fight hurt.
I took a quick glance at his side. No contusions. Probably ribs that had been bruised weeks ago that weren't fully healed. I had the knowledge I needed to win this fight and win it fast. The question was whether to use it or not.
Willie Martin was a great fighter. I didn't know him hardly at all, but he handled himself in a way inside the ring and out, that I respected, and I knew enough about him to know that he'd had a tough life growing up, same as me. He was hungry for it. I could see it in his eyes, along with that desperation that I knew so well. Like this was it. Fighting was all he had.
If I could beat him without resorting to punishing his ribs to do it, I would. It was a risk. The momentum could turn on a dime. One second, I could be on him, ready to arm bar him and the next I could wind up flat on my back and tapping out. That was the nature of the sport.
I might regret my decision, but I opted to stick in for a little while longer and see how things progressed. We circled each other for a few seconds and then the first bell rang.
I jogged over to my corner and Felix was there, already swearing at me in Spanish.
“Come on, Matteo, cut this bullshit, okay? You dancing around like a ballerina at the end there. Get in and get the job done, mijo, I don't got the heart for this shit anymore.”
He wiped my face down and squirted water into my mouth.
As he talked, I spared a glance to the front row where my family was. My focus immediately went to Kayla, who sat, arms crossed over her stomach, fists clenched. She met my gaze and worked up a tight smile.
It didn't fool me one bit. She was a nervous wreck. Maybe the fact that she didn't think my winning was a given should've hurt my feelings, but all I felt was glad that she cared enough to be worried about me.
I was turning into a real needy prick lately.
I let my attention stray to her right where Reid sat, his eyes locked on me. He crossed an arm over his chest and tapped his left-side, jerking his head toward Willie's corner. I sent him a curt nod letting him know we were on the same page and that I'd seen it too. The kid had a good eye. Made me proud.
I couldn't deny it felt good to have that many people in my corner. People who loved me.
I felt a sharp slap on the shoulder. “Now get your ass out there and get it done,” Felix said, and stepped back.
The bell rang and I rolled to my feet with a renewed determination, cracking my neck. I'd give it one more round, and if I couldn't get Willie to tap, I'd work the ribs. No amount of respect was going to get in the way of making my family and Kayla proud of me and making sure I got myself into a position to take care of them.
Especially now that I knew what I knew about Mickey. Once Kayla found out, it was going to change everything, and she was going to need me more than ever.
***
Kayla
“Come on, Matty, get in there!” Olivia shouted, clapping her hands together twice before plugging her pinkies between her lips and letting out an ear-piercing whistle.
She'd almost yelled herself hoarse in the first round and I wished I could let loose like that. The normal me would have. The madly in love me who was watching her man fight the most important fight of his career could barely breathe, never mind yell. Added to that the normal worries with any fighter about his health and well-being, and knowing that, once it was over, we were going to have to have a long overdue heart to heart that could end disastrously and it was probably the most stressful evening of my life.
“He looks good,” Bash murmured, and patted my shoulder. “Don't worry, he's got this.”
I nodded, but his words didn't dispel the chill. Trying to think about everything at once was driving me insane. I had to take it one step at a time if I was going to get through the night with my sanity intact. Step one: Win the fight.
I hunkered forward and cupped my hands to my mouth. “Get 'em, Matty! You're looking fabulous,” I shouted. The bell had just rung and he turned his head my way to give me a head bob as he reached the center of the ring.
God, he was beautiful. Even sweaty and with that mouth-guard in, he was the most beautiful guy I'd ever seen. Like an avenging angel.
My gut pitched as the fists started flying again. I loved fighting. Always had, but watching Matty get hit was hard to stomach. If things went according to plan, I’d have to watch it a lot more, so I’d need to get used to it. Still, when Willie clipped him hard in the jaw, my own tingled in response. Like I could almost feel it.
Matty apparently didn’t like it either, and he came back, reeling off a brutal kick at Willie’s knees, sweeping out from under him. The crowd roared, and we leapt to our feet. My pulse careened out of control and my heart pounded so hard, it felt like it was fighting its way out of my chest.
“Now, baby, now!” Bash yelled, as Olivia and I screamed our heads off.
Matty wasted no time in capitalizing on his move. He dropped to the floor and got Willie into a scissor hold. Willie’s face was a mask of pain, but he didn’t tap. The cords in Matty’s neck flexed and he gritted his teeth as he tightened his hold.
And still Willie hung in.
“Jesus, he’s not going to tap,” Reid shouted to Bash, eyes panicked.
His words made the bile in my stomach roil. I’d seen it before. The rules were clear. Intentionally breaking a bone or causing permanent bodily injury was forbidden, but intention was a dicey thing to prove. If Willie was tough enough to take the pain, he could hold off on tapping until Matty had a decision to make. Press the hold to the point of endangering Willie’s limb, or let off. It wasn’t a choice I envied anyone having to make, and I watched with bated breath, my entire body shaking as Matty was forced to make it.
Time seemed to stand still as Matty’s lips moved. He was talking to Willie, who was shaking his head furiously in response. The two men locked gazes and suddenly, Willie reached out a hand…and he tapped.
The place went wild, and Bash, Olivia, Reid and I rushed toward the ring, hooting and hollering.
He’d done it. He’d freaking won and it was going to change everything for him.
And for us. As we circled him and he yanked me into his arms to kiss me, a shiver of dread ran through me. I shoved it aside and wrapped my arms around Matty’s sweat-slicked shoulders. It was going to be okay. Once I talked to Mickey, it would be fine. We’d weather this storm together because we were fighters. Strong enough to live through toug
h childhoods, and we’d be even stronger together.
The referee came and ushered us out of the ring to announce the winner. Matty’s brothers beamed at the stage as he nodded humbly, waved to the crowd, and gave a shout-out to Willie for a great fight. A few minutes later, I was headed back to the locker room, with a promise to meet the family at the diner for a late night celebration meal.
I pushed through the doors with renewed determination, excited to celebrate with Matty and filled with the knowledge that, once we got past this next hurdle, we could do anything.
“You did it, champ.”
He looked up from his seat where Felix was just finishing cutting off his hand wraps. His grin made the last of the ice in my gut melt.
“We did it. You were so right about Willie. I don’t think I could’ve done it without you.”
“Hey, what about me?” Felix asked with a snort. “I don’t got that pretty face, but I had some good ideas too.” Matty slung an arm around the older man and squeezed.
“You know you’re irreplaceable. I have the best team in the world.”
I stepped closer, examining his face. “You good? Any injuries?”
He shook his head as Felix slipped quietly from the room.
“What did you say to him to get him to tap?”
“I told him if he made me break his leg, it was the end for him. And that I had him no matter what. He was babying a rib injury. Even if he got up then, it was only a matter of time. At least if he tapped, he’d get other chances, you know? I think it finally got through to him.” He shrugged then. “It was the truth. I think he’s still got a future in the business. He’s a great fighter.”
“You were just better,” I said, rolling up on my toes to kiss him.
A low voice called from the doorway. “You looked good out there, kid.” The familiar voice had me looking over my shoulder and my head started to spin.
“Mick…”
My father’s smile was more like a baring of teeth and the look in his eyes was bone-chilling. Matty kept his arm around me and his muscles went tense, body on high alert.
Trust Me: Matty and Kayla, Book 2 of 3 (McDaniels Brothers 6) Page 6
