Fighter's Heart: A Hot Sports Romance (Crown MMA Romance)

by A. Rivers

  “What the fuck are you doing?” she demands, shooting a look at the door. “Anyone could come in.”

  I shrug. “Then we’d better make this fast.”

  Leaving the coffee half-finished, she sits opposite me. The moment her gaze lands on the financial slips, she pales. “How did you get these?”

  “I have ways.” Not strictly legal, but effective, and if ever there’s a time to blur the lines, it’s now. I lean forward, staring her down. She looks straight back, but there’s a hesitancy in her face that wasn’t there before. “Do you know what I see when I look at this?” I ask.

  She scans the tabletop and turns her palms toward the ceiling, like she couldn’t care less. I know better. She’s practically vibrating with tension. “Why don’t you tell me?”

  I sigh. I hadn’t really thought she’d make it easy, but I’d hoped. “I see someone with lots of debt and mediocre taste in men who saw a way out of a tight spot and went for it.”

  Her jaw juts forward. “That’s not how it is.”

  “No? Then how is it?”

  She doesn’t speak, but I wait her out. I have experience with waiting people out, and she won’t win this game. Finally, in a small voice, she asks, “What do you want from me? Why can’t you leave me alone?”

  She sounds so young and pitiful that even though she’s the same age as me and freaking vindictive, I cover her hand with my own. Yeah, she’s a shitty judge of character—not to mention sneaky and petty—but I feel for her.

  “I can’t let you ruin Jase’s life,” I say softly. “He’s a good guy. You know he is. And he doesn’t deserve to serve time for something he didn’t do.”

  Tears well in her eyes and she blinks them back. “He could have fixed all of this if he just took me back. That’s how it was supposed to happen. But no”—a sneer mars her pretty face—“he had to hook up with you.” Her tone is bitter. “If he’d just gone along with my plan, we’d be fine.” She looks me up and down. “What’s the big deal with you anyway? You’re a seven, at best. I’m a ten.”

  Ugh. So much for feeling sorry for her. I pull away.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen,” I tell her, because I don’t want her to think she can worm her way out of this and come out on top. “You’re going to withdraw the charges and issue a public apology.”

  Erin scoffs. “No way in—”

  “Or,” I interrupt, biting down on my fury, “I share this with everybody in my personal address book.” In case she’s suffering any delusions, I add, “There’s a lot of media firepower in that book.”

  She blinks, and wrinkles her nose like she’s chewing on a soap bar.

  “After that, I’ll send it to the police. Do you really want them thinking you’ve wasted their time with bogus accusations?”

  Now she just looks sick to her stomach. Time to offer the carrot.

  “If you do what I’ve asked, I’ll pay off your credit card debt and six months’ worth of rent. Free and clear.”

  She laughs, covering her mouth with her hand. “You had me going for a moment there. Where would you find that much money?”

  The jab doesn’t sting the way she wants it to. I’ve had years to get used to the disbelief. “My last name is LaFontaine. As in, Malcolm and Henrietta LaFontaine.”

  If she was white before, she’s ghostly now. “You—what?”

  I allow her a moment to digest this. “I don’t see my parents often, but I have access to the LaFontaine millions.” For Jase, I’d do anything, including reaching out to my parents. “Do what I want, and the debt collectors will stop knocking on your door.”

  “But I’ll be publicly humiliated,” she protests.

  “Honey.” I say the word in my most sugary, condescending tone. “That will happen either way.”

  “Fuck,” she swears, eyeballing me with a combination of defeat and respect. “I underestimated you.”

  “You did. So, what’s it going to be?”

  She takes a deep breath, steeling herself, and nods. “I’ll do it.”

  “Good.” Gathering the papers, I prepare to leave, but hesitate. “Word to the wise, Erin. Ditch Karson. He’s a bad guy.”

  “Yeah.” Her eyes meet mine. “I know.” She shakes her head. “I sure can pick them.”

  “Maybe go for a baseball player,” I suggest. “They’re easier to handle.”

  “You know what?” She perks up. “I think I will.” Reluctantly, she offers me a manicured hand. “Nice doing business with you.”

  I shake, giving it an extra squeeze so she knows not to mess with me again, and then I walk away from her without a backward glance.

  You’re welcome, Jase Rawlins.

  18

  Jase

  It’s been three days since Lena bailed me out and I sent her away with nothing to remember me by except a bank transfer with a simple note: “thank you for everything”. It’s been three grueling days of training, and three lonely nights where I barely slept a wink despite having worked myself to exhaustion. Dwelling on Lena is painful, so I’ve focused all of my energy into avenging her the only way I can—by pulverizing Karson Hayes on international television. I’m going to make the fucker regret being born.

  Although I haven’t spoken to Lena, I’ve seen her twice. She dropped by to speak with Gabe, Devon, and Seth, but didn’t try to approach me—perhaps I hurt her too much, a possibility I hate with a passion. None of them mentioned it to me, and I didn’t ask. Frankly, hearing what’s going on with her would mess with my head, and I can’t afford that right now. Not when I’m determined to crush her ex.

  It’s Thursday afternoon, the day before the big fight, and everyone else has finished training. I should have, too. To be honest, I probably shouldn’t be training at all today, but I need something to occupy my mind and everyone seems to sense it. Even hard-ass Seth hasn’t tried to send me home. He just glowers disapprovingly and keeps reminding me not to overdo it.

  I’m practicing my setups for a right overhand punch when Devon and Gabe come out of the changing room and cross over to me. Devon lays a hand on my shoulder while Gabe steps between me and the bag, narrowly avoiding a shot to the temple. He catches my fist and pushes it down to my side.

  “This is an intervention,” Devon says. “We’re taking you back to your place, and we’re going to watch some TV and chill.”

  I try to shake him off. “Not interested.”

  “We. Don’t. Care,” Gabe enunciates clearly.

  “You’ve done enough, bro.” Devon claps me on the back and steps out of reach, reading my mood. Gabe, on the other hand, stands steady. He doesn’t care if he cops a punch. He’s got something to prove to the world. Always has, always will. I guess being shouldered with a Golden Gloves champion for a father gives him a lot of expectation to live up to.

  “We need to ice your hands and shins and go over your mental game,” Devon continues. “Seth is coming too.”

  “He is?” This stuns me. Things must be serious for Seth to leave the gym. He practically lives here. None of us have even seen the guy’s home, and sometimes I wonder if he just crashes on the gym floor. He’s a great trainer, but he has even less of a personal life than we do. “Okay, I’ll come.”

  I remove my gloves, grab my stuff, and follow them to the cars. We drive to my place, with Seth promising to be close behind. Inside, I leave Gabe and Devon in the living room while I shower. When I return, they’re on the sofa, watching the sports news, and two buckets of icy water are waiting for me. Dunking a fist into each of them, I wince at the bitter chill.

  “Why are we watching this?” I ask. Usually we watch re-runs of the opponent’s last few fights and talk strategy at this point in the training camp, staying far away from the news in case they mention the upcoming event and psych us out.

  Devon checks the time. “You’ll see in a moment.”

  The door opens, and Seth strides in. “Your security is shit.”

  “Good to know,” I mutter, having previousl
y been under the impression it was top of the line.

  “Shh,” Devon hisses, and then the setting on the TV changes and Erin appears.

  The air rushes from my lungs, and I snatch my fists from the frigid water, balling them. “What the fuck?”

  I try to understand what’s happening. Are they going to interview Erin about the assault charge? It would be perfect timing to throw me off for tomorrow. But if that’s the case, why would my brothers make me watch it when I might otherwise have been able to remain oblivious until after the fight?

  “Just wait,” Gabe says.

  The presenter finishes introducing her and gives the back story of her accusations, then finally invites her to speak.

  I tear my gaze from the screen. “I don’t want to hear this.” I search desperately for the remote, but someone has hidden it. “Seriously, guys. Change the channel.”

  “Just watch,” Seth grunts, and I do. Because when Seth speaks, we all listen.

  What comes next shocks the hell out of me. Erin tells the truth. With tearful eyes, she admits to having lied about me hitting her. Then she apologizes. She fucking apologizes to me on live TV. What on earth is going on?

  I watch, rapt, as she goes on to explain that the creep who assaulted her was actually Will Jones, but she’d hoped she’d be able to use the situation to manipulate me into taking her back.

  I can’t believe this is happening.

  She’s humiliating herself in front of the nation, and in doing so, saving my ass. But Erin doesn’t do anything selflessly, so what is she up to?

  “Why?” My voice is husky, but fortunately my brothers seem to understand.

  “This is all Lena,” Devon explains, and holds up a hand to silence anything I’m about to say. “I know you don’t want to talk about her, but she made us promise you’d watch it so your mind would be clear for the fight tomorrow.”

  “She…” I’m struggling to wrap my head around this. “She did? But how’d she get Erin to back down?”

  I’m the luckiest bastard in the world. I pushed an amazing woman away and she still saved my sorry self. Jesus, I hope I haven’t ruined my chance with her permanently.

  Is two weeks too soon to be in love?

  Fuck no. I’m crazy about her, and she must feel the same way, right? Why else would she do all she has to fix my screwed-up life?

  Devon shrugs. “No idea, and we asked. She didn’t want to say.”

  A reluctant smile tugs Gabe’s lips. “She’s as stubborn as you.”

  My phone rings, and I rush to answer it, praying it’s Lena. Caller ID shows it’s only Nick, and disappointment floods me. I should’ve known it wouldn’t be her.

  “What’s up?” I ask.

  “Great news, buddy. I just got off the phone with your lawyer, and the charges against you have been dropped.”

  Gratitude overwhelms me. Lena. She’s responsible for this. If I live to be a hundred, I’ll never be able to thank her enough. “That’s amazing, thanks.”

  “No problem.” He pauses, then adds, “Rest up tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Ending the call, I scan the faces around me. “The charges have been dropped.”

  “Yes!” Devon fist-pumps.

  Gabe’s rare smile widens.

  Seth just watches me with steady green eyes. “She’s a fine woman. You’d better hold onto her.”

  I nod to my mentor. “I plan to.”

  Lena

  You know how some mornings you wake up and have this feeling that everything is going to change? That was me this morning. It’s the day of Jase’s championship fight and also the day of my interview with Englewood. To say I was shocked when they called and requested to meet with me would be an understatement. I was astounded. I honestly believed I’d burned all my bridges when I quit my job after those damning articles were published. I even asked the intern who contacted me to double check she had the right person.

  And that’s why it’s totally surreal to be sitting opposite Maria Englewood, wearing a stylish yet respectable pantsuit and discussing the possibility of my future employment at her firm. Maria Englewood is one of the most distinguished women I’ve ever met. She’s slightly shorter than average, with dark hair in a sleek topknot. Her dress is designer but not flashy, and she has this way of weighing every word she says that gives the impression she’s always the smartest person in a room.

  To be fair, she’s definitely the smartest person in this room. I can only aspire to her heights. She represents female CEOs, politicians, and other power houses, and also has a pro bono legal clinic that specializes in domestic and family law. In short, she rocks, and I want to work for her. Hell, I want to be her.

  “Lena,” she says, after we’ve been through the standard interview questions and I’ve somehow answered them without turning into a total fangirl, although I’ve had to rest my hands in my lap so she can’t see them shaking. “I admit, I wasn’t sure how this conversation would go. Your experience isn’t directly in line with what we do here, but I love your passion. You have the kind of fire and enthusiasm we need at Englewood.”

  Oh. My. God. Did Maria Englewood just compliment me?

  My head swims and I’m dangerously close to crying happy tears.

  “Thank you,” I reply.

  She folds her hands in front of her and cocks her head, studying me with intelligent eyes. “There’s just one more thing I need to ask about.”

  My stomach sinks. She wants to know about the debacle with Jase. Of course she does. It makes me look like a liability.

  “I respect you, Lena, so I’m going to come straight out and ask. What happened with Jase Rawlins?”

  There it is. The kiss of death. I’m done before I even have a chance.

  “That situation was messy,” I say. “I didn’t want to take on Jase as a client, but I was pressured into it. Everything was going well until Monday, and you’ll have seen that the woman responsible publicly apologized yesterday and withdrew charges.” I sigh, and decide I may as well throw myself fully off the cliff. “The truth is, I fell in love with him.” Her expression is impossible to read, so I power on. “I don’t want you to think I make a habit of hooking up with clients. This was a one-time thing. Jase is special.”

  Maria nods, still not giving anything away. Then she finishes her glass of water and shuffles her papers into a stack. Is she dismissing me?

  When she stands, I do too. “Thank you for the opportunity.” I head for the door. As I open it, her voice stops me.

  “Lena, I’ll see you at eight a.m. on Monday.”

  Wait, what?

  I glance over my shoulder, and she smiles at me. “Welcome aboard.”

  “Oh my gosh,” I stammer. “Thank you. I’ll be here.”

  I walk out with my spirits so high I could touch the ceiling. I have a new job. I’m finally going to be working with the type of clients I want. My idol just gave me a second chance. Slumping against the elevator wall, I stare at the ceiling. Maria Englewood won’t regret hiring me. I’ll make sure of it. I’m going to be the best new recruit ever.

  By the time I reach my apartment, I’m still soaring, but I come to a halt when I spot two men loitering by my door. My heart leaps to my throat. I take one step, then another, relaxing when I recognize Devon. He’s with Gabe, and they both look up as I approach.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to sound casual but missing the mark. “Does this have something to do with Jase? Is he okay?”

  “We’re here to take you to the fight,” Devon says without his usual grin. In fact, everything about their body language says they’re both on edge. “Put on your prettiest dress. We’ve got half an hour before we need to go.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.” I slot the key into the lock and turn it. They both hustle inside. “Jase clearly said he didn’t want to see me, so I wish him luck, but I’m not coming with you. I don’t want to distract him.”

  I’d already planned to sit alone in bed a
nd stuff my mouth with ice cream while streaming the fight online. The thought of watching him in the ring makes me sick to my stomach, but equally, there’s no way I’d be doing anything else. I need to know what happens, and whether he’s safe at the end.

  “Oh, you’re coming,” Gabe tells me, grabbing me by the shoulders and looking me in the eye. “We’ve arranged everything. All you need to do is get ready, and we’ll take care of the rest.”

  “But I—”

  “No buts,” Devon interrupts, glancing at the clock on the wall. “We need to be with our brother soon to help him prepare, which means you need to get a move on.” He made a shooing motion. “Go.”

  Sensing that they’ll drag me to the fight in my interview outfit if I don’t do as they ask, I hurry to the bedroom and throw open my closet, searching the racks for something sexy but casual, and which another man didn’t buy for me. I won’t make that mistake again. Settling on a classic little black dress, I strap on some heeled sandals and darken my eyeliner, then wipe off my neutral lipstick and replace it with my favorite red. Ready, I let them sweep me out of the apartment.

  A sleek sedan is waiting at the curb, and they guide me to it. We’re mostly quiet during the drive, although I do my best to uncover their plan. The way they shrug and grunt makes me wonder if they even have one. Once we arrive at the venue, a guard lets us in the rear entrance, where the fighters are getting ready. Devon leads the way to a closed door with “Rawlins” scrawled in marker across it. Gabe stays by my side, but nods to the woman waiting in the hall. She’s gorgeous, with brown skin, crinkled hair, and curves for days. She’s also wearing a Jase Rawlins supporter hoodie, with his face and “The Wrangler” stamped on the front. When we reach her, Gabe stuns me by dropping a kiss on her cheek.

  He turns to me. “Lena, this is my best friend, Sydney. You’re going to hang with her tonight.” Without further ado, he and Devon enter the room and leave Sydney and I in the corridor.

  She offers me a smile. “Call me Syd. You must be Lena.” She scans me up and down, but not in an unfriendly way. “Gabe’s told me a lot about you.”