One Last Fight: Part One (The One Last Fight #1)

by Ava Ashley

  She may be right, but I’m not going to let her know she’s getting under my skin. I dress in black leggings and a black halter top, and add big silver hoop earrings and a necklace Rafe gave me for my sweet sixteen. It’s a silver chain with a small four leaf clover for good luck. I need that now.

  “Ready?” Annabel bursts in the door, already talking. She stops midstride and sentence. “Wow, you look great today.”

  “Thanks.” I can’t stop the genuine smile from spreading across my face. “So do you. Are you ready for this?”

  “I think so.” She’s wearing a shirt and skirt combo that reminds me of a 40s housewife. When she glances down, I catch something in her expression, and I suddenly realize the producers might be pushing her to act like the naïve girly girl with a slant for retro clothes and values. Damn. Glad they didn’t put me in that spot. It gets to me that they’re pushing Annabel into it. Do they believe it’ll attract Rafe because he comes from such a rough world? Or he’ll think it’s cute? Or they just want to create more personalities and conflict? Maybe we’re all playing a part and we could actually get along otherwise.

  On impulse, I hold out a chunky necklace to Annabel and ask, “Want to borrow this? It’d look so good with your outfit.”

  She eyes it for a second and happily accepts.

  When Annabel and I go downstairs to catch the bus to the studio, Mel is walking with her ever-growing clique. Now Justine and Zuri are following her around too. Mel has a strong personality and is used to getting her way, and that makes the others want to be on her team.

  They follow us out to the bus. The other women are already on board, so once Mel and her flock sit down, the bus takes off. All we know so far is that this is some kind of mental challenge, and we’re shooting at the studio instead of at the house.

  I’ve noticed Heather has been staying as far away from Mel as she can, making the other clique. Heather is strong physically and mentally, and I know that pulls Rafe in, but she seems more focused on winning for winning’s sake and not getting Rafe. It makes me curious about her motives for being on the show.

  Then there’s Kara, Annabel, and me. Annabel might have naturally fallen in with one of the other two groups if she wasn’t sharing a room with us. Out of all the other girls, I’m most worried about Zuri and Kara. There’s something about Zuri. She’s dark with thick, shoulder-length hair and big, brown eyes. Kara is bold and sexy, and I know Rafe likes that. Then there’s Mel, who’s blonde, rich, and successful, and what guy wouldn’t want that? Well, maybe Rafe sees through her. I hope so. So far, I haven’t seen him look at her in a way that makes me think she’s on his list of favorites.

  Now this really feels like high school. I’m going to some crazy lengths to reconnect with Rafe. I hope he can see that.

  When we finally make it to the studio, we find the big room redone as a game show. The red and black décor is edgy, almost like an MMA match, and there’re metal bars showing that unfinished uptown restaurant style. It reminds me a little of MTV back in the day.

  But the setup is something like Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune combined. Big red letters above the stage say, “Mental Mash Up!” There’s a giant wheel with categories and a two tier platform for all of us to stand on behind a small stand with a buzzer and microphones. On the wall, a big electronic board has all of our names and space for points. They even set up seats for an audience. There just aren’t people sitting in the chairs yet.

  Liam is dressed up more than usual tonight, his hair styled higher and a very expensive patterned cream shirt under his light-brown blazer. The subtle color combination is really nice.

  Once we’re all inside and looking at the scene, quiet but cheesy music starts to play and the staff motions for us to walk toward the stage where Liam is waiting.

  “Good evening, ladies!” He throws his arms out, his personality amped up as well. “Come this way!” We’re directed to a specific spot on the stands, and when I take my place, I notice a box off to the side, facing the show, like you’d see for a jury or even a hockey team. I gather it’s for us as we lose our spot on the show.

  “Welcome to Mental Mash Up! Your objective tonight is to answer as many questions correctly as possible. I’ll be your host.” Applause fills the room through the speakers. I look around quizzically and someone yells cut. About the same time, the back door opens. The staff come in at first, but more and more people enter after them. It’s the audience. The show went all out on this one. They shoot the beginning a couple more times, using the real audience and the taped applause together.

  So where is Rafe? I catch Kara’s eye, and the slight lift of her shoulder tells me she’s wondering the same thing. Would they actually do a competition without him? The funny thing is, Rafe might have wanted this one.

  We follow instructions and get in place while the music plays and Liam explains the rules. We win points by answering questions correctly, and our points will add up until the final round. Then the top three contestants will go head-to-head to win a date with Rafe. Only one woman wins a date, but all three in the final round win immunity from getting kicked off.

  “And we’ll find out who goes home shortly after the game.”

  My heart stops. If I lose and get kicked off, this is it. I won’t get another chance to talk to Rafe. I have to do my best today.

  “This is a fast-paced game. We’re going to throw lots of questions at you, and like the name says, it’s a mash up of everything. World history. US history. Science. Pop culture. Everything!”

  The music changes then and two staff members walk on stage from the side, a metallic throne-like chair between them. Fake smoke rolls in from both sides as they set the throne down in the center of the stage. We’re on one side, with Liam and the giant wheel on the other. The music quiets, and then Rafe walks out onto the stage.

  He’s dressed in all black again—black slacks and a black shirt. He’s also wearing a silver necklace, something he used to do way back when. It was a neighborhood thing, so it surprises me, but he’s really pulled together tonight.

  I think he glances my way, but so much is going on I can’t tell. The other women jump up, clapping, and I follow suit with a sigh. This is getting old. But he does look hot. He always looks great. Liam and Rafe stand together facing the cameras.

  “Welcome to the show, Rafe Maddox!”

  “Thanks, Liam. Happy to be here.” He turns toward us and adds, “And thank you, ladies, for the warm welcome.” His voice is so sexy that the women and the audience erupt in applause and catcalls. I try to fake it, but my heart is squeezing at the sight of him. A tiny voice asks why I ever ran away from him. But if I think like that, I’ll do awful tonight. I have to focus.

  “Tonight is all about mental prowess,” Liam booms. “Why is that important to you, Rafe? Tell us why you designed this show for tonight.”

  So he did have the idea.

  “MMA fighting is more than just two guys beating each other. I have to have mental endurance and the ability to read my opponent. Life is the same way.” He glances around the audience before turning toward us. “Romance too. I need a woman who’s sharp mentally, not just beautiful.”

  His eyes sweep across me and dart back, but he doesn’t make eye contact. For an instant—one that does something strange to me—it seems like he’s staring at my chest. Then I remember the four leaf clover necklace. I make myself meet his eyes. His gaze smolders, emotions flicking across them quickly.

  “Let’s get started!” Liam yells, throwing an arm up. Jazzy music starts.

  I consider myself fairly smart, but trivia has never been my strong suit. I feel my palms start to sweat. I doubt they’ll ask about how to neuter a cat or give a shot to a dog. I do know some biology and chemistry. And it might come in handy that I know how to restore the engine in a ’79 Chevy. I feel a little better, even if my areas of expertise might not come up.

  And the evening starts. Ten rounds, with someone leaving after each one. Liam spins t
he wheel, lands on sports, and reads the first question:

  “What weight class did Muhammad Ali box in?”

  Damn. So that’s how this is gonna go.

  The buzzers go crazy. It takes me five questions before I even buzz and another two questions before I get to answer one. It’s from the Party Hard category. I’m the only one who buzzes when Liam asks, “Vodka, Galliano, and orange juice are used to make which classic cocktail?”

  “Lily!”

  “The Harvey Wallbanger,” I say, knowing it’s the worst possible question for me to get. It’ll make me look even more like trailer trash to everyone here. Rafe glances over, one eyebrow raised in surprise. Suddenly, I’m angry at myself for being ashamed. I’m proud of the hard work I put into learning how to mix so many drinks—at one point, I planned to move to bartending to get out of my other line of work, if necessary. But then I went back to school.

  Liam starts the next question and I focus on the game again until a bell goes off.

  “And that’s the end of round one!”

  My stomach drops. I answered one question. I glance at the board and see Justine didn’t answer any questions.

  “I’m sorry, Justine, you’re in last place. Off to the box you go!”

  The audience makes sympathetic sounds. I’m sure the women on stage are breathing a sigh of relief. Justine sadly makes her way to the box. I’m only one point ahead of that according to the scoreboard. Zuri is in the lead. Damn. And Mel did better than I expected—or hoped. I was betting on the dumb blonde stereotype, but it doesn’t seem to apply here.

  Round two starts and I focus, buzzing in three times. I miss one question and get two right. To my surprise, there are a few questions about engines and things I know. I move up in the rankings thankfully. Kara is two points ahead of me. Our eyes meet, and it’s not exactly a look of friendship or enemies.

  The questions cover movies, historical events, and sports.

  I buzz and get a question right: Which country first allowed women to vote? New Zealand.

  I glance at the scoreboard and do a double take. Kara is in the lead by two points over Zuri. Hmm. I’m not sure if it’s worse or better if she wins. I might get to hear more details from Kara, but would I want to?

  Through the following rounds, I manage to not get eliminated and even move up in the rankings, but as we near the end, I’m in sixth place. Zuri passes Kara and then the final round starts. I buzz in and answer a sports question correctly, putting me in fifth. I just need to move up two more spots! I buzz in again and move up into fourth. I can do this.

  Then the bell rings.

  I’m in fourth place, just one spot away from immunity. That sucks. I glance over and stop cold—Rafe is staring at me with a thoughtful expression. I’m so screwed.

  I needed that date. I need to talk to him and get through to him before he has a chance to kick me off. I need to tell him the truth. He needs to know what I did!

  What if it all ends right here?

  Only then do I check the scoreboard again and see that Kara won the night and a date with Rafe. She’s talking to him right now. I start to look, but I catch sight of Rafe’s smile and turn away.

  My heart splinters, a tiny crack running down its length.

  Zuri and the other winner, Bree, are standing with Rafe as well.

  I join the others in the box and wait, hoping I’m not wearing my emotions on my face. One of the staff brings Rafe a bouquet of roses—one for each woman he’ll keep on the show. As he approaches, Liam tells us, “If Rafe gives you a rose, come back over to the stands with our winners.”

  Rafe stops in front of the box and looks around at us.

  “I’m very flattered that each of you came to be on this show... and as I’ve gotten to know you, I’m finding all of you intriguing and fun to spend time with. So it’s not easy when this time comes around.” His words are honest, his voice soft in the now very quiet studio. Even the audience is hanging on his words. His eyes gleam, and I can’t stop my heart from squeezing. He’s handsome and tough and complex...and he’s my perfect match, but I might have blown it six years ago. If only he’d give me another chance and see the person I’ve become.

  He hands a rose to Mel, who squeals and rushes around to the outside of the box to grab him in a hug. Rafe continues to hand out roses, and with each one, my heart sinks lower, my blood turning cold. Finally, it’s just me and Annabel left. He looks first at Annabel, and even I can’t miss the hope and worry in her eyes. Then his gaze moves to me, and he slowly stretches his hand out.

  I’m afraid to reach for it. I expect him to switch at the last second like it’s a mean joke and hand it to Annabel instead, but no, it’s right in front of me and his eyes are locked on mine. I take the rose, wishing my hand wasn’t shaking. There’s nothing I can do to stop it. I nod at him, knowing I can’t hug him like Mel did, and walk to the stands. I do pause to give Annabel a sad smile.

  Rafe leans over the box to hug her and say something in her ear. He’s a gentleman under that rough and hard exterior.

  When I’m standing with the other women, I suddenly realize Kara will be gone on a date tonight and Annabel won’t be staying in our room anymore.

  The audience goes wild for Rafe and Kara as they embrace and leave together. I’m not the only one sad about it. There’s thirteen of us left now.

  I want to escape, but we’re stuck in the studio for another hour so they can tape reactions and little bits from all of us. I try to smile and shrug, saying, “There’s always next time.”

  “So did you expect Rafe to give you that last rose?” Liam asks from beside the cameraman.

  “Yeah,” I say with false bravado. What does he expect me to say? “I think he might have been playing up the drama tonight.” I even try for a flirty smile with that one.

  Then we finally get to board the bus and ride back to the beach house. Mel and her clique are busy in the back. Heather and her girls have the middle. I could try to listen in to the different conversations, but I don’t have the energy. I’m sitting up near the front. Feeling alone.

  As soon as I get back to my room, I change for a run and take off.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rafe

  “Why the fuck did I give her that last rose?” I sigh and lean my hands on the bathroom counter. She knew I wanted her off before. I went as far as telling her so. But I chose to give her that rose and keep her on the show. I always know what I want and why I do things, so this is like an itch under my skin that I can’t reach. I want her off the show and out of my life, but at the same time, it’s obvious I don’t want to get rid of her.

  “Why?” I shake my head at this mess. This is going to be interesting to say the least. Damn! I laugh out loud as I pull a long-sleeve shirt over my T-shirt for the evening. Lily has to be pissed that Kara is having dinner with me here...and to be honest, Kara intrigues me. She’s calculating but not cold.

  The musicians are warming up downstairs, filling the house with guitar picking and bass. I walk in and greet them, but I only have a few minutes to talk. The clock is ticking and I’m supposed to cook dinner for tonight.

  In the kitchen, I survey the ingredients on the counter and slap my hands together, getting myself ready to do this. One perfect roast duck, coming up. The secret, I know, is to not overcook it. It’s an added bonus that I don’t need to cook it very long.

  I smell the spices and make sure they’re just right. But the scent stops me with some vague memory. I stand there like a dumbass for several minutes trying to grab on to whatever it is. But it doesn’t seem to be a memory, more like something I’ve wanted to do. I’ve thought about cooking for Lily before, showing her what I can do now.

  Shaking myself out of it, I get the duck in the oven and move on to the vegetables. I picked up bread at the bakery to go with it. This dinner will be amazing. The evening should be great. It should even feel a little less staged and more private. The show’s staff came by earlier to make sure the ca
meras are operating correctly. There’re just two installed in the dining area to film us during dinner.

  The doorbell rings. Here we go. I open the door with a smile to find Kara outside in a long, black dress that hugs her body all the way down. Interesting choice. I know she has very nice legs, so I’m surprised she has them covered up. Wrapping a present, perhaps? She notices my lingering look and smiles.

  “Good evening,” I say and wave her inside. “Welcome to mi casa, hermosa.”

  I have an idea of how the evening can end. But do I want that tonight, with Kara? Two weeks ago, the answer would have been hell yes! But now...now I’m on camera and the whole world could potentially end up watching this. A thought of Lily flashes in my mind before I shut it down.

  “Hello, Rafe.” She pauses inside the door and slips an arm around my waist. Damn, she smells good. I hug her back, grabbing a deep breath of her scent and making a masculine noise of appreciation. We linger there for a few seconds before she leans back and gives me a half smile.

  The band has been quiet for a few minutes and breaks into a slow rock song.

  “We have live music and dinner waiting, milady.”

  Kara flashes a big smile, and I take her hand and lead the way into the area by the dining table. She pulls in a breath at the sight of the candles and romantic dinner spread. The band is set up in the corner, leaving room to dance.

  “Come here,” I say before turning and resting my other hand on her waist. We sway to the music, and I rest my face against her hair and hum with the song. This is nice. Romantic, even. Over the last few years, I’ve seduced women and then said good-bye. I haven’t wanted more. Not after what Lily did to me.

  Then why am I doing this show? Why did I give Lily that rose and keep her here?

  I catch our reflection in the large windows.

  “We make a nice couple,” she says, following my gaze.

  “We do.” I twirl her around. “I like my women tall, and you look damn sexy in that dress. Did you like dressing up for me?” I add with a devilish smile.