by L. G. Kelso
I was so ready for bed.
Loud noise hit my ears. I opened my eyes as Will pushed off the security, swinging and hitting the taller of the two and shoving the other to the ground, and sprinted our way. I stepped away from Max, who looked over his shoulder. He turned, ready to move at Will, but I reached out and stopped him.
"I got it," I said.
Will barreled into me. I slipped a hand around his neck and got an underhook under his other armpit with my right arm. I moved one of my legs between his, the slightest hint of a hop so the top of my foot hooked against his inner thigh, and dropped to the ground, kicking and pushing him over me. I rolled with him. His back hit the ground, and I landed on his chest.
I felt a new part of me that I wasn't sure if I liked or not. Fighting was meant for the cage, but this wasn't just a fight. Will had made it a fight for my life, even if I was no longer in physical danger from him.
I said sorry to myself, the Tori who kept her morals and fighting ethics in the right, and socked Will as hard as I could across the jaw.
"Stay out of my gym, Will."
Bone popped and crunched against my hand as the side of his face hit the ground with impact. Relief flooded my body, radiating to my bones as the crunch of his jaw rippled into my hand. A few months ago, I wouldn't have wanted to stop.
I said sorry to that Tori as well.
Now, I didn't want to hit him again and again. Once was enough. I could handle it. I could do it. I didn't need to waste it on him.
I hopped up and stumbled a few steps away so security could handcuff him and drag him up.
With his broken jaw, Will couldn't do anything but glare at me as they removed him from the room.
Even with my past tainting everything in the room—Will's name was on everyone's mouth—the present hadn't felt this right in years, and the future felt even better.
I wasn't the girl I had been years ago, nor was I the girl I had been a few months ago. I wasn't totally sure who I was going to be yet, but whoever it was, it was what I needed and wanted.
#
"So, I wasn't imagining it," Max said. We lay in his bed. He had asked if I wanted to go home with him while walking to the parking garage at the event center, and I most definitely did.
"What?"
"How he looked at you. Why didn't you tell me?" He sat up, and took a sip from the water glass on his bedside table. I traced the lines of muscle on his back. I could feel the determination in each line, and the amount of work Max put into his passion, a physical demonstration of how his philosophy influenced his daily life.
"I just wasn't ready. I had to work on it myself. I couldn't let you try to fix it. I had to fix it. I had to accept it before I could be the person we both need me to be."
"I understand that." He reached out and touched the scar on my temple. It had finally stopped pulsating.
"I'm sorry I didn't trust you about it before," he said.
"Are you kidding me? You shouldn't have trusted me. It looked pretty awful. I wanted to tell you before you left for your camp, but I wasn't ready yet."
"I really wanted to kill him, Tori," Max said. He put his glass down, rolled to his butt, and looked at his hands in his lap.
"I know."
"Doesn't that bother you?"
"I've wanted to kill him every day for like three years, so no." I shrugged.
"I didn't want to let go. I wanted to hold the choke. I've never felt that way before. Not since I was a kid with my dad."
"I know," I said. "It's okay."
"You know what?" He turned more, so he faced me. His hand settled on my hip.
"What?"
"You're amazing."
"You're not just saying that because I'm in your bed, are you?"
"No, of course not. You're an amazing athlete. You kicked butt tonight. And you're an amazing person. You did something that hurt you to protect someone you don't even really know. You're beautiful."
He ran his fingers over the curve of my deltoid.
"And that doesn't bother you?" I asked, nodding to the muscle.
"I think it's awesome, and I like your new tattoo. I wish I had thought of it first, actually." He chuckled.
"Well, we all have that day where we have to choose which scars to live by, right?"
I took a deep breath; his room smelled like him. Leather, sweat, adrenaline—a sort of palpable intensity and sweetness at the same time. All Max.
He rolled on top of me, and I wrapped my arms around his torso. "I just want to kiss your face all over," I said.
"It's really not that bad."
"Did you look in a mirror?"
"Oh, thanks."
"Just saying. You should take it easy, Mr. Concussion."
"I'll take it easy if you take it easy with me."
"Deal."
He kissed me. My hands moved up his back, my fingers grazing the edge of the scars on his shoulder blades. I brought my knee up between us, hooked my heel around the back of his leg. scissor-kicked, and flipped him over, so I straddled him.
"I think I love you," I blurted out.
He lifted himself up on his elbows, and looked at me. "That's good. Because I love you."
He kissed me again.
Chapter Thirty-Four
"All right, girls. Thank you so much for coming and I'll see you all next week."
The group of teen girls nodded, and two of them gave me hugs as they walked out to their parents.
"How'd it go?" Max asked.
"Fantastic. I think some of them liked it."
"Good."
I leaned into Max and smiled as the last of the young girls left, and waved the entire way out the door.
I turned toward Max. His face had healed, except for the new scar he would have above his eyebrow. "We could go roll around for a little bit?"
"Rolling or rolling?"
"Both?"
He agreed, but the door dinged.
I looked over my shoulder and did a double take at the short brunette. Justine stood in the doorway.
"Hi," I said. "How are you? I wasn't expecting to see you."
"I know. But I was kind of a bitch and I wanted to apologize. Tori, I saw the report and the video and I just wish I had known."
Max's hand tightened on my shoulder. I squeezed his side before stepping away and over to Justine, who had stopped near the door.
"I thought I would lose you and the other girls if you knew what happened. That you'd think I was a phony."
Justine shook her head. "Not at all. In fact, I'd like to come back and train again."
I smiled, definitely the psychotic smile by how big it felt, and nodded. "We would love that. Justine, this is Max. Max, this is Justine. She's one of the girls I used to work with."
"It's nice to meet you," Max said. He shook her hand.
"What are you two doing? One of you come entertain me," Shane said as he walked up behind us.
"We're about to give a tour of the gym."
"Well, then obviously you need me. Because we need three tour guides for this gym," he said. I introduced him to Justine, and the four of us walked around the place.
Justine left a little bit later with a schedule of classes. Max and Shane were having some kind of pissing contest over who had the best superman as they went to shower and change. Leah had a show we were expected at.
I finally gave in and picked up the magazine that someone had left on the counter. It had been there all day, I think because no one knew if they should show me or not. Will was on the cover, but it wasn't pretty looking. I flipped to the article on him and skimmed.
Will "The Killer" Bennet had been kicked out of STRIKERS and was currently disbarred from any fighting while under investigation for the allegations that he tried to fix my fight. The article also brought up the report I released and mentioned the recorded conversation.
There were still haters and people who would back Will, but I didn't care. I had put it out there, and what people did now was
out of my hands. And so was Will. I closed the magazine.
I went into the middle of the mats and plopped onto my back as I unwrapped my hands. I coiled the fabric around itself slowly. It had always been therapeutic—letting all that energy out. My next fight with STRIKERS was in three months, and we had already started fight training.
Max landed a contract with the MMAUC, and had his MMAUC debut in a month in Las Vegas. He had decided to put graduate school off for a year, and even though I would have loved to stop school, I was determined to finish my senior year and graduate. The plan was that I would only do two fights while in school for the next year. Otherwise, my grades would take a crap like they had at the end of last semester.
Shane was still struggling, but he had moved back in with his grandmother and was spending even more time at the gym.
I stared at the fan, still off-center and clanking. I focused on the soft touch of the air moving, breathed in the sweat-laced air, and listened to the fractured air whine with impact.
It felt so good to be home, and it felt even better to know I'd never leave it again.
Acknowledgments
Fierce was a new venture for me. Not only is it contemporary, it’s also very close to my heart. I'm passionate about so many things that are in this book—combat sports and martial arts, strong women who stand up for themselves, being true to yourself, friendships, and love.
I owe so much to some very supportive people. For my husband, thank you for dealing with me. Thank you for letting me retreat to the writing cave and abandon everything else in the house. Thank you for never asking why; for accepting what I do without hesitation.
I am so grateful to have my wonderful families. Grandma, you have given me so many opportunities and experiences. I am so thankful for all of them and so grateful to have you in my life. My wonderful parents, thank you for always encouraging me to go after what I want, for everything you have done, for all the love you give, for being supportive and the list goes on. My beautiful siblings, I am so blessed to have you and be your sister. Thank you for inspiring me to be a better person, for sharing with me a bond that can never be replicated, and for being you. Never forget how wonderful, smart, strong, and beautiful you all are.
Bailey, my dear friend and critique partner, thank you for making me a better writer, for all the plot conferences (I think we decided that is the okay term to use?), and for being one of my biggest writing supports. I am grateful to have your support, especially when I freak out (which happened many times before the publication of Fierce). Thank you for looking at the still messy version of the book and encouraging me to see it through. Also, thank you for being a great friend and being there whenever I need you, Namir.
Carrie. I feel like I need to somehow add a sigh right here because I probably drive you crazy. First, thank you for practically holding my hand through this experience. I feel like I constantly ask you questions and for opinions, so thank you not only dealing with them all, but also continuing to be awesome and give me helpful advice. Thank you for dealing with my timeframe fallouts, and working my things into your schedule. Of course, I can't forget your design magic—thank you for that!
Thank you to my #teamdangerzone, and our mentor Diana Gallagher. I'm still so embarrassed by the draft you saw. You are truly amazing. First and foremost, thank you for reading it. Thank you for taking the time and giving such awesome feedback. Thank you for seeing something in that mess and helping me shape that mess into something. You posed questions that made me think, you helped me find the strengths and the weaknesses, and you always were quick to lend feedback when needed or act as a soundboard. I can't say thank you enough, seriously. Neely (who is from now on known as the Queen of Queries and Blurbs) and Goldy, it was a pleasure working with you and I hope to continue to do so!
Cora, thank you for being a wonderful soundboard and being so willing to help. Your initial interest and feedback on Fierce, before I knew what to do with it, helped provide confidence I needed later to see it through this process.
Editor Dani, thank you for your skills, knowledge, for taking the time to help me improve my writing and the book, and for the encouragement!
Thank you to my boxing peeps, Ben and Carina, for always being so supportive and encouraging. You two are the best cheerleaders (that is a funny image, yes?) Ben, Fierce wouldn't be here (at least not right now) if it hadn't been for you introducing me to boxing. Thank you for letting me pick your brain, for all the martial arts talk, and for being a good friend, Coach! Carina, thank you for pushing me, supporting me, listening when I need it, sparring when I need it, and dealing with me. You are a wonderful person, and I'm so happy we found each other. And thank you to the rest of my gym team for all the great and crazy things you do.
Lil, Jess, Gloria, Colette and Katie-thank you, my lovelies, for being a part of my life, for always being there, and always being supportive! I love you all.
To every writing friend I have made in this journey (there are too many to list): thank you. There are many fellow writers and authors that have helped me and continue to do so. Please know that I am thankful. To everyone who supports NA, NA Alley, and NA Lit Chat, thank you.
Lastly but not least, I am so grateful for you, the reader. Thank you for giving this book a chance, for letting me share with you my passion, for letting me tell you a story. Thank you.
About the Author
L.G. Kelso is a fantasy and contemporary novelist. Having grown up watching Xena and Hercules with her grandmother, she inherited her passion for all things magic, paranormal and mythological. She also has a probably unhealthy obsession with martial arts, and as a boxer she strives to give readers an authentic view of MMA in her contemporary sports novels.
Visit these sites to learn more about L.G. Kelso and her novels:
Website: www.lgkelso.com
Twitter: @lgkelso
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