Cocky

by Love, Amy

  “Chelsea, are you okay?”

  “Am I okay?” Chelsea asked. “I’m fine, Jamie. You’re the one who’s been kidnapped, where are you? Are you hurt?”

  “I don’t know where I am and I don’t have any idea what’s going on. I don’t know who took me or why, but I have an idea.”

  “It was Terrance,” Chelsea answered. “He’s holding you as collateral. He’s using you to force Blue into a fight. But, Jamie, it’s a fight to the death.”

  “Oh God,” Jamie said. “What is Blue going to do?”

  “He’s going to fight. We looked for you everywhere, Jamie, but we couldn’t find you. We searched for days, but we didn’t have any leads. This is the only way to get you back. But maybe I can come and get you. Where are you?”

  “I have no idea,” Jamie answered. “I’ve just been in this small room for days. It’s been awful, Chelsea. I have no idea what’s going on, where am I, or what time it is. It’s like I’m trapped in some other world with no way to contact home. But no one’s hurt me or anything.”

  “Good, I’m glad. I was so worried.”

  “I was so worried; I haven’t heard from anyone in days. I’m worried about Mom, Chelsea. She’s sharing a bed with this man. We have to get her out of there.”

  “It’s already done,” Chelsea answered. “She’s actually out in the parking lot right now. I just showed her who Terrance really is. She’s pretty devastated.”

  “She’s always recovered before.”

  “Yeah, but kidnapping and illegal fighting pits are worse than anything she’s dealt with before. But it doesn’t matter. I’m getting her and you and Blue out of this. We’re all gonna move to LA and live in mansions and never have to deal with anything like this ever again.”

  “That sounds fantastic,” Jamie said and Chelsea could hear her sister’s voice shaking as Jamie tried to hold back her tears.

  “Now that Blue is in the fight, it’s been pushed back by three days-”

  “Three more days?!” Jamie demanded and a sob broke through her voice.

  “I know, I’m sorry. But Blue is doing the fight, so then it will be over and we will be gone forever.”

  “But Blue is coming with us?” Jamie asked, clearing her throat and choking back her tears. Her voice took on a lightness as she tried to change the subject to something pleasant.

  “Yeah, maybe,” Chelsea answered shaking her head and smiling at her sister. Jamie had always urged Chelsea to hook up with Blue. She had always said that there was no point in waiting for a man; if you wanted something you just had to reach out and grab it. But Chelsea had always been too shy to actually do it.

  “I think he should come to California with us. I think you two are adorable together, and that maybe something good can come out of this mess.”

  “God, Jamie. Are you really trying to push me and Blue together now? Now? You’re literally a hostage and Blue is about to fight to the death. Me and him should be the last thing on your mind.”

  “I guess I’m just a hopeless romantic.” Chelsea could hear some sort of muffled whispering and then Jamie was back, “They’re saying I have to go now,” Jamie said. “I love you, Chelsea, and I’ll see you soon, okay?”

  “Jamie, I love you and I’m going to get you out of there-” but then the call ended and line went dead. Chelsea looked helplessly at the phone in her hand. She was thinking about all of things she should have said. She wished her sister had told her something about where she was being held. But it had been good to just talk to her, to hear her voice and know she was okay somewhere.

  Chelsea put the phone down on the small table in the room. She wanted to talk to Blue again, but he had left for her own safety. She hated Terrance. She hated how he was using other people to hurt Blue. It was so cruel and, what was worse, there was nothing Chelsea could do about it.

  She opened the door and was surprised to see the shop was still in full operation. Men and women were staring into cars and lifting up on the hydroponic lifters. They were living their lives and had no idea what their bosses were doing behind the scenes. Did any of them have any idea what was happening? Did they know why Blue was here? Did they understand that his father, who wanted to use and exploit him, was watching him?

  Chelsea left the store and walked out into the car. Her mother was sitting there staring off into space and Chelsea slipped into the driver’s seat.

  “Did you see him?” Colleen asked.

  “Yeah, but there was nothing to do; he’s going to do the fight. I talked to Jamie again, She’s okay and unhurt.”

  “Jamie! You talked to Jamie? She’s okay. Where is she?”

  “She doesn’t know, but in three days we’ll get her back.”

  “Three days,” Colleen agreed as Chelsea pulled out and into the street.

  She drove the familiar route back to her mother’s house. They pulled into the house and Chelsea collapsed into the couch and Colleen disappeared behind her bedroom door.

  Chelsea couldn’t help but think about the fight, about what it would be like. She closed her eyes and put herself in Blue’s place. She would be nervous, her knuckles taped up, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Her heart pounding, she would walk through a throng of men who had come solely to see one man kill another. These would be men who paid a lot of money to watch this fight. They would cheer and jeer at her as she passed.

  Then there would be the ring with its packed down earth stained with blood. In there would be her opponent – someone she didn’t know and had no problem with. But this person she would have to fight to the death. The only reason they fought was because the men around her needed some form of entertainment.

  She thought about the men who would go to this fight. They no doubt thought themselves rich and important. But they were really just animals. They thought themselves privileged for being able to watch two men try and kill each other, but the men who sold them tickets thought they were suckers with too much money. These were men who wore suits and ties to work. They spent all day in an office and needed something to make them feel like they were alive.

  The attendees would never actually fight. They would never get dirt under their fingernails or a bruise on their face. They would watch and bet on other men who did it, but never themselves. Somehow they had convinced themselves that paying to watch the fight made them better than the men who actually fought. But they were wrong.

  Chelsea wanted to watch them all burn. She wanted to see all of them arrested and thrown into the darkest hole of the worst prison. They had taken so much from her and she wanted to take everything from them. She had never felt so useless and weak in all of her life. She was filled with a righteous fury and no outlet for it.

  Three more days. Somehow she needed to survive three more days of waiting and then it would be over. Unless it wasn’t unless Terrance kept pushing the date back forcing Blue to keep fighting. She hoped Paul was having luck with his FBI connection. They needed to do something about this. She needed to do something. But Chelsea didn’t have any connections in the FBI or the Federal Marshals. She knew models and designers and actors, but they were all people who had a lot of power in Hollywood and no power outside of it.

  Chelsea flopped back on the couch, knowing it was going to be a long night. A very long and lonely night. She wondered where Blue was. Was he thinking about her as much as she was thinking about him?

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  Blue never would have dreamed that he would prefer the desert hills of Afghanistan to Snowbird. But here he was, yearning for his days in the Army when bullets whizzed past his head every day. That was somehow more preferable than what was currently happening now. He had left one war and come back to another one, only this one was personal and dangerous and Blue had to fight it alone.

  The sad fact was he had almost believed his father. After all of the letters and calls and care packages Terrance had sent, Blue almost believed his father had a change of heart and that he had becom
e a better person. What a fool he had been. Terrance only wanted Blue to fight again. He didn’t actually care about his son or his son’s health, only his own wallet.

  At least in the war he had his buddies next to him. He never had to ambush an enemy stronghold on his own. Blue had been used to being alone. He had always been alone growing up. There had never been any siblings and other than Chelsea and Paul there hadn’t been a lot of friends, either. He had trained for the fights alone, gone into the fights alone, and he had fought alone.

  In the war his brothers had his back. They watched out for him and he for them. But back in Snowbird he was on his own. He was on his own and he had a lot of people to protect. Chelsea and her family were all depending on him. If he slipped up, they would be the ones who would have to pay.

  It wasn’t fair how beautiful Chelsea had become. She had always been pretty, but somewhere after high school she had blossomed into something beautiful and strong. She was Chelsea Riley and she wrote and performed these stunning songs and all the men in his battalion had a crush on her. But he was the only one who had actually met her, the only one who knew her and could call her a friend.

  But he had never let himself actually contact her. He could have tried harder. Other than asking his father to pass his number along, Blue had foolishly left it up to fate. In truth he had been worried that the new, famous Chelsea Riley would have forgotten him or, worse, laugh at him when he asked if she remembered him. But then he had seen her in that bar and she had been even more amazing than he remembered.

  Then he had been with her and it had been everything he had always hoped it would be. He cursed all the times he held himself back when they were in high school. His fantasies of Chelsea were nothing compared with actually having her. He wanted to be with her every moment of every day; he had wanted to leave this town with her.

  He thought he could control his father and protect her, but he had overshot the mark. And now Jamie was gone and Blue couldn’t stand by and do nothing. How could he live with himself if he was the cause of Chelsea’s misery? He hated to see her cry; it physically hurt him and he would do anything to fix whatever was wrong.

  So now here he was on the way to the new training ring his father had so graciously set up for him. It was the same place Jamie was being held. Terrance had offered for Blue to actually see Jamie and see for herself that she was all right. There was a price, of course. Terrance did nothing for free. The price was a blindfold. Blue had been wearing it for what felt like a long time.

  “You kept in good shape in the Army, right? They keep you boys tough over there, don’t they?” Terrance asked. With the blindfold on Blue had to focus on the sound of his father’s voice and he could hear the eagerness mixed with a tinge of desperation. “I put a lot of money on this fight, Blue, a lot. But hey, remember that means more for you. A bigger cut, more than you’ve ever seen. Don’t say your father doesn’t treat you right.”

  Under his blindfold Blue rolled his eyes and continued to remain silent. He was fine letting his father sweat it out a little longer. Besides, what kind of stupid question was that? Did the Army keep him tough? It certainly hadn’t made him weak. Blue was stronger than he ever had been before. He worked out for hours every day and his instincts and reflexes were sharp. He never doubted or second-guessed his decisions; his body told him to punch, he punched.

  Finally, Blue felt the car jostle as they left the main road. He heard the rumble of gravel underneath the car’s wheels and the air was thick with the scent of pines. They were far from town now, way up north where the pines grew thick in the winter.

  “New location,” his father explained. “It’s a great spot, Blue. This old hedge fund manager out of New York built it. Then 2008 eight happens, the guy loses everything and hangs himself. I got the place for a steal. Go ahead, you can take your blindfold off now.”

  Blue ripped the fabric from his eyes and squinted into the darkening sky. They were far from the main road and all around him all he could see were the green needles of a thousand pine trees and hard brown earth. But up ahead through the trees he could see the outline of a large wooden house.

  “It’s like a hunter’s cabin if a king stayed there,” his father explained eagerly as they stepped out of the car and walked towards the house. Blue could see that the craftsmanship was well done. There were long wooden beams running across the house, a large porch, and big, bright windows. “Everything is marble and hardwood, everything in the bathroom is ceramic, and there are fireplaces in every room. I got the whole set-up Blue. The out-of-towners come for the fight, where are they gonna stay, the Holiday Inn? No way, they stay here, at my lodge. I get some girls to come work as bartenders and as other things and I charge them a mint and then, get this, they thank me for it. What a bunch of saps. I’m making a killing, Blue. We’re gonna make a killing.”

  How many times had he heard that? His father was always giddy with excitement when he had a new venture. He made big promises to Blue about how much money they would soon have. But then when it came time to actually spend the money, his father would cry poor and make up some hidden expense. He always kept everything for himself and Blue knew this time would be no different.

  His stomach sank with each step he took towards the house. He remembered the way Chelsea told people Blue would never fight again, that she wouldn’t let it happen. He wished she had been right. But this was bigger than Chelsea Riley; it was meaner and nastier than anything she had ever dealt with. She couldn’t protect him. He needed to protect her.

  He needed her. He needed someone who knew him, who knew what he had been through. He had always been himself with Chelsea and somehow that had always been enough for her.

  “I got a whole training room set up for you. Weights and a punching bag and there are some guys who’ll spar with you. But I don’t want you overdoing yourself in training. The fight is in two days and I don’t want you sore the day of.”

  “I know what I’m doing,” Blue said, not bothering to look at his father as he took the steps two at a time and opened the huge French doors. The lodge inside was cold, but had the potential to be cozy. There were bearskin rugs on the floor, large comfortable looking couches, and several fireplaces. There was a large bar in the back and lots of table. Yeah, Blue could see a handful of rich guys hanging out here before they went into the basement to watch one man kill another solely for their amusement.

  “Come on,” his father said leading the way down a set of stairs. “Upstairs is for guests only, you know that. We belong downstairs.” They walked down a dark stairwell that led to a wine cellar. In the corner of that wine cellar was a locked door. Terrance entered a number into a keypad and the door unlocked to reveal a second room with a desk and a chair and computer that looked about five years old.

  Then, looking over his shoulder to make sure Blue was watching, he slid over a panel of the wall to reveal a secret second door. This led to the main basement, the real basement. There was a large dirt floor, just as always and there was a circle of chalk in the center; it was the ring.

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  His father walked around the ring. “Doesn’t this take you back?” he asked, throwing his hands up. “You and me in the fights again. Just like the old days.”

  “Stop it,” Blue said. “You and I are not on the same side and never will be. I’m doing this to get Chelsea’s sister back and after that I’m out, forever.”

  “Come on, Blue-”

  “No,” Blue interrupted. “I’m not interested. Where is Jamie?”

  Terrance led him back through the basement to another locked door that led to a kind of servants’ quarters. There was a table, a couch, a TV, and a coffee maker. The TV was showing an old episode of Jerry Springer and two men and woman were splayed on the couch as they walked in.

  “Terrance,” the one man said, but Blue noted how none of them stood up when Terrance entered the room. These people didn’t work for Terrance; they worked for the boys from Det
roit – the sponsors who Blue had yet to meet.

  “Gonna see the girl,” Terrance explained and they nodded as the two men passed. Terrance led them through a small hallway to a door where he produced a key and unlocked it. And there, sitting on the bed, perfectly unharmed, was Jamie.

  “Bye,” Blue said walking into the room and closing the door behind him. He could have tried to fight his father, but then there was the matter of the three people in the other room. He had seen two guns on them and he didn’t think he would be able to get himself and Jamie out of here alive if he decided to make a break for it. And there were still the boys from Detroit to think about. If Blue ran they would chase him, and Chelsea and Jamie. No, running wasn’t smart, not yet.