The Fighting Series (Books 1-5)

by Nikki Ash

  It took a little longer than planned, but a few months ago we both graduated from ULV. I received my bachelors in business and accounting and Kayla received hers in physical therapy. Luckily, the sports complex where Kayla did her internship had a spot available and hired her the day she graduated. I was able to take the summer off to spend time with Bella before she starts preschool, but now I need to find a job.

  After showering and getting dressed, I make my way to the kitchen, following the delicious aroma of Kayla’s homemade chocolate chip pancakes. She doesn’t make them often but when she does, I eat them until I’m so full I can barely button my pants.

  As I sit at the table and begin buttering my pancakes, I notice my daughter is scarfing hers down. “Whoa there, Angel. You’re going to get a tummy ache if you don’t slow down. What’s the rush?”

  She stops chewing and looks at me, her eyebrows furrowing in the same way I can still remember her father doing. “I don’t want to be late,” she says matter-of-factly through her mouthful of food.

  “Bella, school starts at nine o’clock. You’re not going to be late. Please slow down. You won’t be going to school if your belly hurts.”

  She must agree with my reasoning because she immediately slows down eating her food.

  I start eating my pancakes, when I look over at Kayla, who is giving me her I’m up to something look. The last time she gave me this look I ended up meeting Cooper and got knocked up, so this look seriously scares me.

  “I haven’t seen that look in a very long time. What are you up to?” I raise my brows in hope that she’ll see I’m serious and back down.

  “I’m not up to anything. How dare you jump to conclusions?”

  “Kayla, let’s not beat around the bush. What’s going on? I need to get Bella to school and I have a couple potential jobs I want to check out.”

  “Okay, hear me out before you say no.” I go to cut her off, knowing where this is going, but she doesn’t allow me to break in as she continues speaking a hundred miles an hour.

  “We did it, Liz! We graduated college. We got our degrees. I think we have done a pretty good job with Bella so far. She isn’t completely traumatized and she’s alive and in one piece. One night with a sitter isn’t going to kill you or her. You deserve this. You’ve focused on school and Bella for the last five years. Please come out with us Friday night. Hayley has tickets to this cool UFC fight and also has an open invitation to the after-party. It’s supposed to be off the hook. Please!”

  Kayla and I met Hayley while working at the Bistro. She was also going to ULV but a few years ahead of us and majoring in sports medicine. We all instantly became friends and she is over here so often Bella calls her Auntie Hayley. She got a job a few months back at a UFC training center and is always begging us to come to the fights.

  “Kayla, you don’t even watch UFC. Why do you want to go to a fight so badly?” I shake my head, trying to figure out her motive. With Kayla, there is always a motive behind her madness.

  “Um, hello! Have you seen their hot bodies? I don’t care what’s going on with the fight. I just want to see their sweaty bodies and maybe do the dirty-dirty with one of those hot guys I’ll meet at the after-party,” she says, waggling her eyebrows up and down.

  Well, that makes more sense. Where there are hot guys, you can you bet Kayla will find them.

  I try to keep a straight face, but when Bella cuts in and asks, “Auntie Kay, what’s a dirty-dirty?” I can’t help but laugh.

  Raising my brows, I join in the fun. “Yeah, Auntie Kay, What’s a dirty-dirty?”

  Kayla’s eyes go wide when she realizes what she just said in front of my very impressionable four-year-old and attempts to back slide by telling her it’s when people play in the mud together.

  Now, I’m laughing so hard tears streaming down my face. Kayla isn’t laughing, though. When I look at her through my blurry eyes she’s glaring at me.

  When my precious daughter responds, I completely lose it.

  “That sounds like fun! I wanna go play in the mud! Can Tristan come play with me in the mud? He loves to jump in the puddles and get all dirty!”

  Kayla’s eyes completely bug out as she looks to me for help. I give her a look that says, Nope, ain’t gonna happen. You got yourself into this mess, now get yourself out. Now she is full on shooting daggers my way, which is making me laugh even harder.

  She looks at Bella and says very calmly, “No, you may not play in the mud with Tristan. Not until you’ve graduated from college, have a good job, and are married.”

  Bella looks at her completely confused and begins arguing when I decide to help Kayla out and change the subject. “Oh, Bella, look at the time. If you don’t want to be late we better get you washed up so you can be on your way to preschool.”

  Hearing the word preschool, she immediately forgets all about playing in the mud and getting dirty with boys. Kayla shoots me a look of gratitude and begins to clean up the dishes from breakfast. I mouth to her, “you owe me.”

  After dropping Bella off at preschool—and crying my eyes out at the fact that my baby is growing up—I head to a couple places to apply for an accounting position. I love numbers so it was a given I would major in business and accounting, but I never imagined it would be so hard to find a job in this field.

  After filling out several applications, I make my way to the coffee shop on the corner near our apartment to get a cup of coffee and continue looking for a job. Right after getting my coffee and pulling out my laptop, I get a text message. I check it and sigh. I should’ve known she wouldn’t drop this.

  Kayla: Please, Liz. Friday night 7 p.m. UFC fight

  Me: Not happening

  Kayla: One night out isn’t going to make you a bad mom. Pleeeeaaasssseeeee!

  Me: I don’t even have a sitter.

  Kayla: I already spoke to Tristan’s mom and she said she’d watch Bella for the night. No excuses!

  Me: All night? You know how I feel about leaving her with someone overnight. I barely even let my mom take her.

  Kayla: Your mom lives in Florida! You can’t compare the two. One night. Bella will love staying up and watching movies with Tristan. You’ve known Ashley for three years and she’s a mom just like you! Plus, she’s a teacher! C’mon… do this for me!

  Me: Fine.

  Kayla: Seriously? You’re really going to go?

  Me: Yes

  Kayla: Your one-word answers are scaring me…

  Me: Good, you should be scared. I’m not happy about this.

  Kayla: Yay!! I’m so excited. I will be home around 3 so we can go buy new dresses for Friday. C-ya later!

  It’s Friday night and I seriously can’t believe she’s talked me into this. I should be immune to the craziness that is Kayla, but I’m clearly not. For starters, I haven’t worn a little black dress since before I got pregnant with Bella, and if I remember correctly, it was that damn LBD that got me into that position in the first place. Although, I can’t really be upset about it because it got me Bella, and I wouldn’t trade her for anything in the world. But that’s not the point.

  The point is, I don’t want to be wearing this dress and going to this fight when I can be home hanging out with Bella until she goes to bed, and then reading one of my romance novels that I live vicariously through since my own sex life is non-existent. Well, except for in my dreams.

  After our mini-shopping trip, we pick Bella up from preschool, where she explains to us the entire way home in detail every second of every minute of every hour of her first day at school.

  “Mommy, I love preschool so much I I’ve decided I’m going back tomorrow.” Well, that’s good because she doesn’t really have a choice.

  I do my best to stifle the laugh I have building up because she’s being dead serious right now. I guess it’s good she’s decided she’s going to continue her education on her own because trying to force Bella to do something she doesn’t want to do is like pulling teeth.

 
After dropping Bella off at Tristan’s house with my friend Ashley, we head over to the stadium. I met Ashley through a mommy-and-me class we attended with our kids and she’s probably the only person outside of my family I trust to watch Bella. As luck would have it our kids also ended up in the same preschool class.

  Since Hayley had to get there early, since she’s working the event, she left us tickets at will-call. We take our tickets and head to our assigned seats.

  As I sit here, in my little black dress and heels, looking around at this madhouse of an event, I wonder why I’m so gullible that I let Kayla talk me into this shit. The entire place is packed. Music is pounding through the speakers, women are everywhere dressed to kill, and everybody is clearly pumped for the event. I never realized how popular the UFC is.

  It appears Hayley has hooked us up with decent seats. We’re sitting pretty close to the front—or the middle I guess? In the center of the arena is a huge stage looking thing with a fence that runs around the perimeter. From where we’re sitting, the guys can practically sweat on us when they’re fighting. To our left is a black carpet that leads from what looks like the dressing rooms or is it fitting rooms? Shit, I don’t even know. It’s some type of room where the guys will come out of and walk down the carpet to get to the stage.

  One by one the fighters get announced, along with their opponents, to fight. They each have their own song and they walk out almost in a trance. Most of them have an entourage accompanying them, and many of them are wearing headphones.

  Each fight goes a few rounds, until one guy either gets knocked out or they both last and the judges tally up the points, and then a winner is announced. I have no idea what they’re fighting for, but it must be something major because these fighters are taking this entire thing extremely personal.

  Fortunately for Kayla, every guy who comes out of the… locker room (Oh! Maybe that’s what it’s called.) has to walk by us and she’s definitely taking advantage of the situation by snapping pictures left and right.

  The fights are crazy to watch. These guys are seriously no joke. I wouldn’t last a second in that ring. At the end of every fight they both walk away beat to shit—bleeding everywhere—several parts of their body bruised and broken.

  I’m starting to wonder how many of these fights are going to take place tonight—there’s only so much blood and gore a girl can take—when the lights dim down and it’s announced that coming up is the main event of the evening.

  The first guy enters to Imagine Dragon’s Radioactive. He has a hoodie on and is surrounded by a bunch of guys. He is shaking hands and smiling wide for everybody to see, like he knows he’s got this shit in the bag. And hot damn he’s a big guy. I don’t know who the other guy is, but I can’t imagine anybody beating this guy. Heads are going to roll, and I doubt it’ll be this guy’s head. He walks to his corner of the ring and his entourage starts getting him ready for the fight.

  The music ends and the next song begins. This time, the guy is walking out to Eminem’s,‘Til I Collapse. Like the first guy, he’s wearing a hoodie, but unlike the first guy, he keeps his head down and doesn’t shake anybody’s hand. It’s not that he isn’t sure of himself… it’s more like he doesn’t feel the need to be cocky about it like the other guy. He’s focused and his song matches his mood perfectly. His entourage following him acts the same way. They walk out determined like they’re here to do a job. I take it back, this guy will be the winner. There’s no doubt about it. He’s about to fuck this guy up.

  “Oh. My. God, Liz! Is that Kaden? Wait, is that Bentley?” Kayla starts tapping on my arm, while jumping up and down, trying to get a closer look.

  Everything in my world goes still as I finally catch a good glimpse of the guys surrounding the fighter. A loud gasps escapes my lips—not loud enough for anyone to hear over the music and cheering, but loud enough I can hear it. That’s when I take a look at the fighter, like really look at him, and I see it, on his right arm is the dragon tattoo I’ll never forget.

  Holy mother of God, it can’t be. There’s no way.

  My fingers go up to my necklace. The boxing gloves he gave me. He told me he practiced MMA.

  Well isn’t that an understatement of the year.

  Kayla continues to shout at me, but my mind is all foggy and I can’t focus on anything but the man walking away from me toward the ring. It feels like the boxing gloves resting on my neck are suddenly burning a hole through my skin. The music stops and the guy on the loud speaker introduces the two fighters.

  “And now three rounds in the UFC Middleweight division. Introducing first, fighting out of the blue corner, this man is a valid judo fighter holding a professional record of twelve wins and zero losses, standing at six feet two inches, weighing in at 165 pounds fighting out of Los Angeles, California. He is The Ultimate Fighter season winner, Damian The Massive Garcia. And now introducing his opponent, fighting out of the red corner with a record of eight wins and zero losses, he stands at six feet three inches, weighing 170 pounds, fighting out of Las Vegas, Nevada, he is Liam The Raaaaaage Cooper.”

  Holy hell. I can’t believe it. A few things come to mind when I hear his introduction. First, Cooper is his freaking last name, not his first name. And that makes me wonder if maybe I did come across him online but didn’t realize it.

  Second, he’s a famous fighter. That explains why he has to stay in shape.

  And third, Rage? Well, goddamn that explains our daughter’s temper.

  Kayla and I lock eyes, having an entire conversation without having to say a single a word. What the hell are the chances of running into my daughter’s father here?

  Seven

  Cooper

  I step into the octagon and tune everything out around me. I need this win. Not only will it keep me undefeated, but it’ll also ensure me a place in the title fight in a few months at the MGM Grand. This is what I’ve been working my ass off for for the last ten plus years. This is why, after five years of hell from being around my father, I’m still in Las Vegas.

  I look around and see my dad in the corner, along with Kaden, who’s still my trainer, and Bentley, who hasn’t left my side all these years. I know Caleb is out there watching. I don’t know what I would do without these guys. They’re my fucking rock. I’d never have been able to deal with my dad all these years without them pushing me.

  Three rounds. Three. Fucking. Rounds. If I can beat this guy, I’m one step closer to the title fight and everything I’ve been through will be worth it.

  I look out into the crowd like I do before every fight. Watching them scream my name is a complete ego boost, not to mention their enthusiasm helps to get me pumped up. I hear someone shouting Cooper, which isn’t something I normally hear. Normally, the fans are yelling Rage. I look toward where the voice is coming from and my eyes lock with hers. I realize it isn’t her voice screaming my name but her best friend’s.

  It takes me a second to make sure I’m not hallucinating. This girl has been in every fantasy of mine for the last five years. The guys have a bet as to when I’ll mention her name again. She’s my girl who got away. There have been times when I was walking down the street and could’ve sworn I saw her, only to come face to face with a stranger who has a similar skin tone or hair color or the same curvy body. Well, not the exact same, because everything about Liz is one of a kind.

  For five long years, I’ve lived with the regret of walking away and not taking her number or giving her mine. When we first got back and I couldn’t stop thinking about her, I asked Bentley if maybe he had gotten her friend’s number, but when he said he hadn’t, I knew there was no way I would ever find her again.

  Kaden screaming my name knocks me out of my fog and our connection is lost. I want to try to find her, but right now I need to focus on this damn fight.

  “Bro, what the fuck is wrong with you? Focus,” Kaden says, while wiping Vaseline on my face to prevent too much bleeding.

  I look over at my dad and see him scowling
at me. He can tell I’ve lost my focus and is wondering what the hell just happened. The few times he overheard the guys and I talking about Liz ended with us arguing. If he knew she was here, he would definitely lose it. I can’t even imagine the lengths he would go to to ensure my focus remains on fighting.

  I know better than to mention anything about a woman to my dad, not if I want to remain on his good side. So, I shake it off for the moment and get my head back into the fight.

  Three rounds. Three. Fucking. Rounds. I just need to get through this fight and afterward I’ll find her. There is no way I’m letting this girl go again.

  Eight

  Liz

  Somebody pinch me because I must be dreaming. I remain standing, staring at this guy that looks even more like my daughter than I’ve imagined over the last four years.

  I look over at Kayla and she’s in just as much shock as I am. No words are spoken. We just watch in silence while the majority of the crowd chants, “Rage, Rage, Rage.” Some of the women are holding up signs that say things like “Marry me, Rage” and “I love you, Rage”. Eww! One sign even says, “You can take your Rage out on me.” I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.

  I’m in shock. I don’t even know what to think right now. The many sleepless nights when Bella was first born and would wake up with Colic, I would hold her in my arms and rock her back and forth while I imagined what it would be like to have Cooper by my side. I’d make up scenes in my head where I’m out with Bella and we run into him. I tell him about his daughter and we ride off into the sunset. Okay, not really ride off into the sunset, but you get the drift. Not in any of those scenes did I ever imagine I would run into him at a UFC fight where he’s fighting in the main event.

  In all reality, does it really matter how I found him? The fact is, we’re both here, and I’ll finally be able to tell him our short but amazing time together created the most perfect, beautiful, little miracle.