No more pizza boxes, or half-finished cups of coffee. No more piles of unopened mail.
Just like Brandon had been eating cleaner, and focused on fitness and training, he’d narrowed his eyes and begun running his business with a focus any martial artist would be proud of.
Hell, Ava was proud of him.
The only thing that annoyed her was the letter sitting on his desk – the one Mr. Beninetti had left, when he’d come over to demand the security deposit and last month’s rent.
Ava stepped over and picked it up – rereading for the sixth time the brusque message, and the name and address of Mia’s husband’s accountancy practice.
And then an idea hit her.
A reckless, dangerous, mean-spirited idea. But a brilliant one.
Grabbing an envelope, Ava selected a BB Martial Arts Center business card from Brandon’s desk.
Then, kicking shut the office door, she carefully peeled off her yoga pants. And then her panties.
Ava didn’t intend to sleep with Brandon again – but that hadn’t stopped her wearing a nice pair of Victoria’s Secret panties. With a wicked smile, she peeled them down over her thighs, and stepped out of them.
A moment later, they were stuffed into the envelope, with Brandon’s business card.
She sealed the envelope, and pulled her yoga pants back on. Then, with a flourish, Ava wrote the address of Mike Werber’s accountancy business, and threw the envelope into the ‘out’ tray.
Of course, her panties were probably twice the size of the ones Mia wore – the skinny little bitch – but if Mike was anything like Clark, he wouldn’t even know that.
He’d just wonder why he was getting a pair of panties in the mail – and the business card would give him a pretty pointed clue.
If Mia was going to fuck with Brandon’s life; the least Ava could do was return the favor.
Chapter Fifty One
Brandon
Two days before the fight.
Brandon wasn’t going to lie. He was getting extremely nervous.
To help distract him from that, the Fox affiliate that Rob was working for came down to film a segment about this scrappy new MMA upstart – and that meant wrangling classes around a filming schedule, and getting parents to sign permission slips for their kids to be featured in the segment.
Rob and Brandon both got interviewed; and the pretty blond newsreader asked some direct and pointed questions.
“So, do you think you deserve to be up in that octagon?”
Brandon had blinked when she’d asked him that.
“There are fighters who’d worked the circuit for years to get a break like this. Why should you get a stab a championship fight, when none of them did?”
“I…” Brandon blinked. He hated being on camera. “It’s just…”
“It’s for the kids,” Rob had answered for him. “Brandon here’s not like James MacDonald. He wasn’t born on the set of Downton Abbey. He’s just a good kid, trying to give kids a good start through martial arts.” He shrugged. “Winning this fight can save this school.”
Brandon nodded dumbly.
When the cameras were off, his cheeks burned red and his stomach churned. He’d blown it.
But the crew didn’t seem to care. In fact, as they shot b-roll of the kids practicing, the newsreader cheerfully told him: “This is gold.”
Vinnie was skulking around in the background, and when he heard them talking, he stepped in to help angle the story.
“MMA’s got a bad rap,” he injected. “What with guys like the War Machine beating their girlfriends, and Jason Miller getting arrested for fighting with cops.”
He slapped Brandon on one of his meaty shoulders. “He’s one of the good guys.”
“We love that angle,” the newsreader grinned. “In fact, can we get you on camera talking about that?”
And that’s when Brandon got his second chance; and he aced it.
Taking a deep breath, he stood in front of the camera and explained his passion and his drive.
“When I was a kid,” he explained, “I never had any idea how much martial arts was going to change my life.” He ran a hand through his shaggy black hair. “It gave me focus, and drive, and a determination to always be my best – and now the most satisfying thing in my life is being able to share that with a new generation of kids here, at this school.”
He told them about the classes he ran for special needs kids, and how at-risk children from Trenton were bussed in to learn the basics of Taekwondo. He shared the story about the parent who’d hugged him; and how rewarding it was to see kids heading in the wrong direction turn their life around thanks to what he did.
“I’m not always the greatest guy,” he admitted, thinking of his behavior with Mia and Ava recently, “but doing this makes me feeling like I’m doing something great.”
He slammed his fist into his palm.
“And that’s why I’m going to win this fight. Because I’ve got something really important to fight for.”
The newsreader grinned, and slapped Brandon on the back. As the video team packed up, they were already planning on syndicating the interview – turning it from an MMA-specific story, to one that would broadcast all across the east coast.
Vinnie came up and slapped Brandon on the back.
“Four weeks ago, nobody had heard of this shithole,” he admitted bluntly. “By tomorrow morning, you’re going to be famous.”
But as exciting as that sounded, Brandon had trouble focusing on it. Because while the karate center was in the best spot it had ever been in its twenty year history – all that rested on his performance in two nights time.
Brandon was about to get everything he’d ever wanted, or have it all taken away.
Chapter Fifty Two
Brandon
“This is our last sparring session, B,” Rob told him, as he and Brandon pulled on their gloves the following afternoon. “Tomorrow, you rest. So if you’re planning to finally beat me, this is your only chance.”
Brandon grinned. That was exactly what he intended to do.
As the two fighters stepped out onto the vinyl mats, Brandon’s brain worked like a computer; figuring out the best angle of attack to get Rob exactly where he wanted him.
“Remember,” Rob told him. “Keep it simple. MacDonald’s disadvantage is that he’s never seen you fight; so he doesn’t know what to watch for. You’ve just got to pick one angle of attack – but you’ve got to execute it flawlessly.”
They started with some punches and kicks. Brandon’s strength wasn’t Muay Thai, but he knew that Rob preferred punching, and some hard kicks were pretty effective at scoring some early strikes and keeping the Norwegian out of striking distance.
But Rob was nothing if not adaptable.
On the third kick, Rob struck like a cobra – grabbing Brandon’s ankle and yanking sharply. Brandon immediately went down.
Stunned and winded, he barely had time to react as Rob pounced on him. The blond fighter worked like a surgeon, reaching for an arm bar at the same time he tried to pull his perennial trick of digging his knee into Brandon’s inner thigh.
With a snarl, Brandon shrugged the smaller fighter off him, and scrabbled free. A moment later, he was up on his feet – fists raised and body hunched.
“That was dumb, Brandon,” Rob warned, as he jumped back up. “You came in with something new and untested – that Muay Thai shit. It’s not your strength, so don’t play to it.”
Brandon snarled, and went in for a take down.
Rob landed two hard punches on the side of Brandon’s head, but the big fighter brushed them off. He kept on going, like a charging bull, and grabbed both of Rob’s legs.
One yank, and the Norwegian was felled like a pine tree.
As soon as Rob landed on the mats, Brandon was on top of him. He pulled the same tricks Rob had – a knee right in the inner thigh, and an arm bar that he executed flawlessly.
Staring down into Rob’s face, B
randon saw something he’d never seen over all those weeks of training:
Fear.
Grinning, Brandon tightened his grip, and went in for the kill.
Rob groaned. He struggled. He twisted, and flailed, and tried to wriggle free – but he couldn’t. And then, when Brandon pulled on his arm, the Norwegian realized he was done for.
Brandon shifted his weight, until his face was inches from Rob’s. He looked deeply into Rob’s eyes, and grinned triumphantly.
“You ready to tap out?”
Sweat beaded on Rob’s brow. He groaned, as Brandon’s arm bar threatened to pop his shoulder straight out of its socket.
“Remember what you told me?” Brandon growled. “Don’t be stubborn. Tap out.”
And that’s when Rob grinned.
And, going limp, Rob lifted his head off the mats, and pressed his lips hotly against Brandon’s mouth.
“What the fuck!”
Stunned by Rob’s open-mouthed kiss, Brandon reared back – and immediately lost his dominant position.
Rob shoved him hard in the chest, and pushed Brandon backwards. Then he wrapped his legs around the bigger man’s waist, and locked him into a brutal kimura lock. Two seconds later, he had him in a brutal double joint arm lock.
Brandon grunted, and twisted, and flailed – and realized he was trapped.
For a second, he considered holding out – trying desperately to break free of Rob’s hold on him.
But then he realized the only thing he’d achieve by doing that would be injuring himself – and he couldn’t afford to do that just two days before the fight.
So reluctantly, with a snarl, Brandon tapped out.
Rob released him.
Laughing, Rob rolled free and struggled to his feet.
Brandon groaned as he hauled himself upright too.
“What the fuck was that?” Brandon snarled, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.
“That,” Rob chuckled, “was ‘gay chicken.’ And you blinked.”
“Is that even legal?”
“Probably not.” Rob patted Brandon on the back. “But if I makes you feel any better, you had me dead to rights before I tried it.”
Rob looked Brandon in the eye, and offered him his hand.
“As long as you can learn to take a kiss like you take a punch, you’re as ready as you’ll ever be, brother. Now go out there and make us proud.”
Chapter Fifty Three
Ava
“And you’re sure you’re okay with this?” Ava asked, as she packed up her overnight bag.
Clark stood in the doorway, Lex clinging to his neck.
“No,” her husband admitted. “I’m not okay with this at all. You’re off to stay in a hotel with your ex-boyfriend – and I’ve seen the way he’s been looking at you.”
“Clark…” Ava rolled her eyes.
“But I trust you,” Clark added. “So if you promise nothing funny is going to go on with Rob, I’m going to just have to believe you.”
Ava stood there and looked over at her husband. Rob had never been the issue – not that Clark needed to know that.
When Brandon had asked her to come to the fight in Atlantic City with him, she’d almost said no. But by this stage, she felt as invested in this as he was – and she wanted to be with him whether he won, or lost.
But that meant Clark had to stay home with the kids; and she could see that it was eating him up inside.
“Honey, I promise you,” Ava reassured him, “nothing is going to happen between Rob and I.” She laughed, and shook her head. “Seriously, he reminds me too much of a young Hulk Hogan to take seriously at the moment anyway.”
Clark grumbled, clearly not believing her.
Ava stepped over, and wrapped her arms around Clark’s neck. She pulled him in for a kiss, and Lex giggled as he got a front-row view.
“I love you,” Ava murmured, running her fingers through Clark’s reddish ‘fro of hair. “It means a lot to me that you’re letting me do this.”
“Hmmm,” Clark didn’t sound convinced.
“Look, I promise I’ll make it up to you when I get back,” Ava purred. She leaned over and kissed her husband wetly on the mouth. “Watching all those men fighting gets me frisky; and I’ll make sure you reap the benefit.”
Clark grumbled in his throat.
“Look, I’ve got to go,” Ava checked the time on her cell-phone. “Rob’s waiting outside.” And then she kissed Clark once again, grabbed her bag and headed for the door.
Clark watched her go, and squeezed Lex tightly.
He sniffed.
“You okay, Daddy?”
“Yeah,” Clark squeezed him again. “I’m fine, bud.” And then he stepped up to the window and watched his wife roar off down the street in Rob’s ridiculous Trans Am.
“I’m fine,” he lied.
Chapter Fifty Four
Brandon
The MMA league might not have been paying Brandon as much as the previous fighter who faced off against James MacDonald – but they certainly didn’t skimp on the accommodation.
A two-bedroomed Spa Tower Suite at the Golden Nugget was reserved in Brandon’s name; and as he shuffled up to the front desk in his shorts and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle hoodie, the concierge swallowed his distaste and offered to show Brandon to his room.
A gleaming elevator took him high into Tower One of the infamous Golden Nugget casino; and soon Brandon was being led through etched glass doorways into a beautiful suite; overlooking the swirling grey waves of the Atlantic Ocean.
Brandon threw his duffel bag onto the couch, and peeled off a five dollar bill for the concierge. Then he paused, and handed him two ones instead.
“Thank you, sir,” the concierge hissed, through gritted teeth.
The door clicked behind the concierge, and Brandon was left alone to enjoy the luxury.
For somebody who’d slept on a couch more often than a bed for the last six months, this was incredible.
A brown leather couch and widescreen TV filled the main room. Bedrooms with gleaming white sheets on the king-sized beds led off left and right. Then there was a balcony; and from there Brandon could see the rippling lights of Atlantic City reflected in the waves of the ocean.
As Brandon stood transfixed by the sea, the door to the tower suite rattled, and swung open.
Rob and Ava came staggering in, hefting their bags.
“Wow,” Ava grinned, as she surveyed the suite. “This is swanky.” She dumped her suitcase on the couch. “If nothing else, they hooked you up for tonight, B.”
Brandon grinned.
“And they have room service sending up some dinner in an hour.” He laughed dryly. “A condemned man’s last meal, perhaps?”
Rob swaggered over and punched Brandon in the arm.
“Don’t talk like that,” he grinned. “Whether you win or lose, you’re going to give that British bastard a fight to remember.”
The door rattled again, and this time it was Vinnie letting himself in.
“What’s happening, guys!” The skinny Italian grinned. “Whoa, check out this crib, B-man.” He patted Brandon on one of his meaty shoulders. “They hooked you up.”
“Well, Fox booked me the suite next door,” Rob quickly mentioned. “Bruiser here isn’t the only celebrity in town.”
“I hear they’ve got MacDonald in the Trump,” Vinnie shot back. “Maybe we’ll luck out and he’ll get food poisoning from his haggis and porridge.”
Rob ignored him.
Turning to Ava, her ex-boyfriend grinned lustfully at the curvy housewife, and purred, “I have two rooms, too. You bunking with me tonight, sweetie?”
Ava’s cheeks blushed pink.
She hadn’t booked a room – assuming the MMA league would hook Brandon’s entourage up like they had him. And in some ways they had – staying in Rob’s suite would give her a room to herself.
But she knew Clark would be green if she did that.
“Sorry, Thor
,” Brandon injected, surprising them both. “Ava’s hubby gave me strict instructions. She’s not to share a suite – and definitely not a bed – with you.”
Rob narrowed his eyes.
Ava could almost see the cogs turning behind his clear, blue eyes. It was obvious that Brandon had just made that up, but still he shrugged.
Clark was jealous of him, and he’d been fairly obvious about his interest in Ava. He really couldn’t blame the nerdy husband for putting a veto on his sleeping arrangements.
“Ava can sleep in my spare room,” Brandon continued. “Vinnie? You’re with Rob.”
Vinnie shrugged.
“As long as the minibar is complimentary, I’ll sleep on the fucking balcony.”
“Well, let’s get unpacked, showered, and we’ll get together for dinner and some final planning,” Rob hefted up his bag. Turning to Ava, he asked, “You gonna be okay with this lout, baby?”
Ava turned to Brandon, and saw him staring at her with hungry brown eyes.
She shivered.
“I’ll be fine,” she lied.
Chapter Fifty Five
Ava
“That was fucking smooth,” Ava laughed dryly, as she threw her bag onto the bed in the second room.
Brandon stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mrs. Cassidy.”
Ava turned around, and put her hands on her curvy hips.
“You know Clark’s super jealous of Rob, so you lied your ass off to shack me up with you, instead?” She laughed. “If only they fucking knew.”
Brandon chuckled.
Pushing himself upright, he crossed the room and stood looming over Ava. With a smile, he placed his big hands on her shoulders.
“Can you blame me?”
Ava blushed.
“Not really.”
Looking down into her eyes, Brandon breathed, “I can handle pretty much anything that happens to me tomorrow night – but I couldn’t handle it without you.”
Bruiser: A Lonely Housewife Embarks on a Passionate Affair with an Alpha Male MMA Fighter Page 13
