TKO (A Bad Boy MMA Romance)

by Olivia Lancaster

  After the first series of blows, we backed up for a fraction of a moment. It looked like a frenzied flurry, but in reality, we’d assessed each other. The other man was good, but I spotted his weaknesses.

  I dove in, and as his expected uppercut swung up from below, I caught it, nearly hoisting myself up as I used his own body weight to propel myself up and knock him in the side of the head.

  The crowd went wild as he staggered, and there was fury in his eyes when he looked back up at me. I hadn’t moved like that in years, even before my injury. It was then that I realized I couldn’t have done a move like that without the exercises Gemma helped me with.

  I didn’t have time to get giddy over the success, though, as he was back on me in a flash. This time, even as I blocked his blows, his knee shot up and caught me in the hip, sending me staggering, and his side of the crowd went wild.

  Both of us shaken, I turned in time to receive his full weight crashing into me, and we grappled, each trying to throw off the other’s weight and get the other to the ground.

  “What are you doing here, Montoya?” he snarled as his head was next to my ear, arms locked. “You can’t even win a gym brawl with a mobster, that injury should have been the bullet in your head.”

  “Didn’t think you would hear about that with your head so far up your ass,” I growled back as I found leverage and shoved him back, sending him back a few feet with a look of surprise on his face.

  I dove forward immediately, meaning to put him on the ground, but the move was reckless. A sharp pain in my leg told me he’d taken advantage of the move and struck me with a sharp knee to the thigh, and I hit the ground.

  He was on top of me in a flash.

  My vision re-focused, and as I looked out onto the crowd, I saw Selena’s face on the front row, shouting at me to get up.

  That took me by complete surprise.

  I hadn’t even talked to Selena since the breakup. There were at least three-dozen missed calls from her on my cell phone, and every one of her friends who’d tried to come to me on her behalf were summarily ignored. What was she doing here?

  Nick.

  I fought to keep Trevor off of me, but his weight was pressing into my back, his legs trying to lock around me to pin me down, and now the thoughts of Selena and Nick were clouding my focus.

  If Selena was the one showing up here, maybe she and Nick had a point. Maybe this really all was just about the money, and at the end of the day, this was just another career that I had to be decisive and cutthroat with. Maybe it really was the better move to take the deal, get back together with Selena, and ride my way to fame, despite all that advice Kenny had given me.

  Unable to find purchase on my legs, Trevor roared and hauled me over his thigh, hurling me down to the ground to throw me off balance and get a hold of my legs anew.

  My arms locked with his shoulders immediately, and we wrestled on the ground as his fist started pounding into my abdomen to knock the wind out of me and weaken me.

  As I twisted and turned to keep him off, my eye caught something that made my heart leap to my throat.

  Gemma.

  She was out there in the audience, jumping up and down and hooting for me, the look on her face every bit as excited and fiery as I felt when I stepped into the ring. I saw what must have been her little sister standing next to her, also cheering, and Trina flanked her on the other side.

  Our eyes locked across the stadium for the briefest moment, and I knew she saw me. There was such hope in her eyes, such encouragement and vigor--and I felt the fire inside me building up hotter than ever.

  For her.

  Seeing the briefest opening on Trevor, I brought my fist crashing down on his head with a roar, and I felt his grip slacken as my whole arm shook with the impact of the blow. If that didn’t give him a concussion, I didn’t know what would.

  I slipped out of his grip and stood to my feet, the audience screaming their approval.

  I could have ended it right there while Trevor was still on the ground, but I let him get up as his eyes locked with mine, wild and furious. I wanted to fight him with every bit of the energy imparted to me by the people that mattered.

  My body was a machine. But with Gemma backing me, it was so much more, and I was going to give Trevor Rockford a taste of that.

  He charged into me again, and this time, our blows traded hard and fast. I pummeled his sides with my hands and knees, dodging his blows with an alacrity I didn’t know I possessed. Trevor would charge, and I would move out of his way faster than lightning, catching him and using his weight to my advantage.

  Our every breath seemed to put new energy into us even as every blow took it out. We were two storms clashing.

  But what Trevor didn’t have was what I’d gained over the past six weeks. I’d rekindled the fire that had started me on this long journey, and I had Kenny and Danny to spur me on to staying focused on the passion that drove all of us fighters. I had the reminder of my roots keeping me grounded. And most of all, I realized as I caught Trevor and delivered a crushing blow to his solar plexus with my knee and caught Gemma’s eye again...I had the love for a woman who was unlike any other in the world.

  And without that, Trevor was already as good as down. I sank into a stance and braced myself as he charged in a again.

  CHAPTER 20 - GEMMA

  My heart was racing and the crowds were deafening all around us as the fight roared on. Trevor Rockford and Marc Montoya threw themselves wholeheartedly into the match, slinging powerful hits and taking more pain than I could even imagine. It was strange, seeing Marc like this, even though I’d known all along just what he was capable of. His dark features and underdog charm were a stark contrast to the blond, trust-fund baby looks of Rockford. It was like watching two different worlds collide. Alice screamed and jumped up and down beside me, getting surprisingly into the fight. Trina and Dequan held hands, cheering and booing alternately as the match got more and more heated. At the very least, it was an exciting event to share with my friends and family.

  But I knew it was much more than that for me.

  Every twist of Marc’s powerful body, every impossibly measured strike and perfectly timed dodge, reminded me of just how remarkable he was. It was hard to picture the Marc I’d known at the start of our work together. He had been so dour and bitter then, almost apathetic. But the spirited, determined man I came to know was the one on display in front of me now. He never gave up, even when Rockford had him pinned for a moment. In fact, the first few minutes of the fight had looked pretty grim.

  I wondered what had changed since then. I didn’t dare believe for a second it could have been me-- but then, I couldn’t help but feel the electricity between us when he glanced over to see me in the crowd. At first, I didn’t think he’d noticed me.

  But then our eyes locked, for just a split second, and it was like the world had totally fallen away and time had stopped. In that hair’s breadth of a moment, the crowds disappeared and the raucous cheers and roars of the crowd faded into silence. I was transported back to that fateful day when we shed our clothes and our inhibitions, finally giving into that irresistible, inevitable desire that burned in both of our hearts. For one heartbeat I was in his arms again, our lips crashing together, his shaft buried deep inside of me, our bodies moving in perfect synchrony as we rode the tsunami waves of pleasure.

  And then, just like that, Marc had shoved Rockford off of him with an almost superhuman show of brute strength. The crowds had screamed and applauded when Marc turned the tables on him, turning what had looked like a surefire loss into a fiery battle once more. I held my breath with every sharp hook of Rockford’s fists toward Marc’s body, my heart aching to see Marc hurt in any way, even though logically I knew he could more than handle it. I had seen the kind of pain he was willing to endure for his sport, and it shouldn’t have surprised me so much to see him perform with such spirit and determination.

  He was a firecracker. He was an angry bull in
a pen. He was magic.

  And I was in love.

  I had to confront it, finally, for once and for all. The way my eyes followed every minute movement of Marc’s body, the way I longed to bolt up into the ring and shield him from pain even though he was a willing participant… it all spoke to something far above and beyond a professional stake in his success. I wanted him to win because I cared about him.

  Because I loved him.

  I wondered if Trina and Alice had realized it long before I ever did. My unwillingness to compromise my career or my responsibilities as a guardian had blinded me to the reality of my own emotions. Once again I had shut myself off to the very potentiality of romance. And now it could possibly be too late.

  Either way, I was determined to see Marc succeed. He was fighting with all the power and unrestrained conviction of a man fighting for his life. And it occurred to me that, in a way, he kind of was. He was fighting to prove himself worthy of a prestigious title, against this opponent who had been blessed with every available privilege. During the afternoon leading up to the fight, Alice and Trina had filled me in on the details of the match. Trevor Rockford was a career fighter from up north, who had been born into a life of wealth and ease. He attended ivy league schools and had the benefit of private, world-class coaches his entire life. Whereas Marc had started fighting early on because it was a means of survival, Rockford only did it for the thrill of adding another trophy to his wall.

  Marc fought, not only in the ring, but in life. He had to fight to get by, to claw his way out of poverty and danger, to make a name for himself in a world that wanted to keep him down. He was covered in invisible battle scars from years of being cut down and tossed aside for the shiny, palatable Trevor Rockfords of the world. I understood that. I, too, had to struggle just to be accepted and respected in my field. I looked like a soft little girl who would wilt at the first sign of pain or struggle. People constantly questioned my age, my legitimacy, my experience. But they didn’t know how hard I worked, how much I’d already sacrificed in order to become something more important than a flashy Olympic runner: a parent to my sister.

  As I glanced down at her, I was filled with pride and love. She had masterminded this whole thing herself, for the most part. She wanted me to be happy, even though she was still wary of Marc and his reputation, understandably. Alice was willing to go the distance to give me a shot at my own happiness.

  Just then, the crowd went hushed as Rockford pulled back to strike Marc, who was crouching in front of him. My heart nearly stopped for a moment, thinking that this could be the end of it. Maybe Marc would be defeated, after all. I gasped, covering my mouth as Rockford swung his fist forward.

  Barely in the nick of time, Marc managed to roll out of the way as Rockford’s fist collided with the ground, hard. Then Marc used that momentary mistake to tackle him from the side, twisting Rockford’s own weight against him as he slammed the ivy leaguer down. Rockford, clearly dazed but fueled by rage, landed a firm punch to Marc’s left shoulder and I stood up from my seat, reaching out in futile concern. I could see just the slightest, subtlest flash of agony on Marc’s face before he clenched his jaw and swung for Rockford’s face, his fist connecting with the blond man’s cheek. The two of them were tangled on the ground now, each man struggling to gain the upper hand. Marc suddenly stood up and Rockford followed suit, but he was so disoriented that he faced the wrong way for just a second. And as he spun back around, his jaw met with the strongest left hook Marc could muster. The crowd roared even louder than before as Rockford stumbled, staggering on his feet, then dropped flat down to the floor. He was out.

  Marc stood over him, panting, waiting for Rockford to get up. But he didn’t. The guy was knocked out cold! Marc had won the match! I cheered so loud that my throat ached, tears forming in my eyes. Alice jumped up and down, screaming and clapping. Out of the corner of my eye I caught Trina and Dequan kissing passionately, their arms raised in two interlocked victorious fists.

  When Marc was declared the winner, he turned in a slow circle, beaming at the crowd. And when his eyes fell on me, I felt a warm, indescribable electricity pump through my veins. He was the winner! And I knew in that moment, without either of us having to say a word, that he was mine. Marc ran down the steps leading down from the ring, bolting straight to me to scoop me up in his arms and spin me around, my legs instantly wrapping around him. I couldn’t believe this was happening! I had been daydreaming about this feeling, about having his hard, powerful body in my arms once again, and now here we were, together again.

  But then, a familiar voice punctured the din, ripping into our beautiful moment.

  “How dare you!” shouted an angry woman.

  Selena! I hadn’t even realized she was in the crowd, but now she was wading through the throngs of cheering people, a look of utter hatred on her gorgeous face. Marc set me down, but kept a protective arm around my shoulders, holding me close to him as she approached. I knew I shouldn’t have been afraid, especially since I had literally just watched Marc destroy his heavily-muscled opponent, but there was just something so terrifying about Selena.

  Trina shielded Alice, backing her away while Dequan stepped in front of them and crossed his arms over his broad chest. He gave Selena a warning glare, shaking his head.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he ordered in his deep, velvety voice. He was a gentle giant, a total teddy bear to those who knew him best, but to the uninitiated Dequan looked like the kind of guy who could rip you to shreds in a second. Selena stood in front of him, glaring up into his face with her full lips pursed.

  “Move out of the way or I will call for security,” she hissed.

  “We’re not doing this here,” Marc called out to her angrily. I wondered what was about to happen. He’d already survived one fight today-- he certainly didn’t need to tangle with Selena, too! So he kissed me, hard, in full view of the whole crowd, who all cheered and whooped in delight. Selena looked absolutely murderous as Marc rushed me out of the arena, down a back hallway. Once we were alone, away from the mighty din of the match, he cupped my face in both hands and kissed me again, deeply. I folded into his touch, knowing for certain that this was exactly where I wanted to be. No matter what happened, we were meant to be together, and I would find a way to make it work.

  The doors slammed open as Selena, her entourage, and some guy with spiked hair and silver-lined sunglasses came thundering down the hall toward us. Marc instinctively shielded me with his arms and puffed out his chest to meet them. Selena stormed right up to him and spat at his feet.

  “What the hell are you thinking?” she yelled. “Remember all that we’ve worked for together? All our plans to make it big?”

  “You never signed the contract,” weaseled in the guy wearing shades (indoors, I might add). He waved a stack of papers angrily, stepping up beside Selena.

  Marc rolled his eyes and laughed. “I don’t want that sponsorship, Nick. But hey, you could go offer it to Trevor Rockford if you want. Or you can just shove it up your ass. Either way, I’m not interested.”

  Selena slapped him hard across the face, shaking with fury. “What about me, Marc? What about my career? If you wanna throw your own hopes and dreams down the toilet, that’s fine. But you can’t do this to me! After all those boring matches I went to, sitting there with those annoying, screaming crowds!”

  “What do you mean? This has nothing to do with you,” Marc said, clearly confused.

  Selena tilted her head back and laughed bitterly. “Yeah, sure. Like you don’t know. Nick offered to further my career with a big endorsement if I convinced you to sign for that sponsorship, Marc! I was finally gonna be a star like I’m supposed to be, and you were gonna be filthy fucking rich! But no, you just had to go and get yourself involved with some nobody!”

  “You never cared about him at all, did you?” I gasped, unable to stop myself. Selena stared at me with fiery eyes.

  “Oh, like that’s some big surprise. It’s n
ot like you actually care about him either. You barely know him! And I’m sure you’re just fucking him for the money, just like me! At least we were honest with each other about what our relationship was! What are you possibly gonna get out of this, besides a one-way ticket back to that trashy little shit hole you grew up in!” she shouted. Marc gritted his teeth, clearly struggling to hold back his anger.

  “You know what, Selena? You’re right. You and I were never real. It was all about the business, for you and for me. And I don’t blame you for using me like you did. You’re ambitious and I can’t hold that against you. But don’t you dare insinuate that what I have with Gemma is anything like that. I know you’re not ready to find what we have, but I hope for your sake, someday you do,” he told her. I was shocked at how patient and genuine he sounded, and astonished even further by the fact that he was talking about me.

  Selena went pale as her anger totally transformed her features. It was like she could handle his rage, his betrayal, but she absolutely could not deal with his pity. She was a proud woman who knew what she wanted, and I could tell she wasn’t used to people pitying her. So she responded the only way she knew how-- with cruelty.