Uncaged Love #2: MMA New Adult Contemporary Romance

by Knight, JJ

  This venue is less flashy than the Herd. Inside, the setup is similar, a permanent cage surrounded by chairs. But there’s no music or lights or red carpet.

  Since everyone I know is working the doors, I end up sitting next to Brittany. She’s subdued this evening, her hair yanked back in a braid. She’s dressed down in jeans and a sweater. Every few minutes she picks up her phone and frowns. I wonder what’s going on with her, but we’re not exactly friends who share their troubles.

  The judges take their places at a long table. I wonder how often Colt has gone through all the rounds to tally points. Usually his fights end in a knockout or a submission by the other fighter. Or lately, when a ref calls off the fight because Colt has gotten too injured.

  I know that isn’t going to happen today. It just won’t.

  Jumpstart comes out first. There’s no fanfare, just a stroll from the dressing room to the cage. He reminds me of Vanilla Ice, his white hair cut straight across on top. He seems leaner than Colt, and I wonder if they are even in the same weight class.

  Colt arrives with Killjoy and the teen boy I still haven’t met. Colt looks good, energetic, bouncing to keep his muscles warm. He gives me a little wave. There are fewer of us at this fight than the one at the Herd.

  Even though Zero isn’t here, he dressed me before his show. I’m his new project now that I’m willing to actually wear real clothes. I’m still wearing jeans, but I have a normal bra with matching panties. And a satiny silver-blue shirt that goes well with the new jacket. I even traded my beat-up tennis shoes for a pair of black ballet slippers, although I constantly feel like they’re going to fall off my feet.

  Colt strips off his fancy sweats to enter the cage. Killjoy follows him on the outside of the mesh, giving him encouragement that I can’t hear from my position.

  The ref follows them in. I take a deep breath. It’s just three five-minute rounds. Colt will be okay.

  Jumpstart looks cocky as he strides toward the center. Just go ahead and be that way, I think. He won’t see the freight train until it’s already run him over.

  I lace my fingers together to keep them still. I notice Brittany is just as anxious. Her foot is jiggling like there’s no tomorrow.

  The ref backs away, and the match begins. Colt and Jumpstart circle each other for a second, then Colt throws the first punch. Jumpstart blocks it with a kick, which wasn’t part of his style in the video. He’s stepped up his game.

  I don’t know if it’s because they’re both gunners, but neither of them goes for a hard-core attack. They wrestle to the ground, trying to get licks in for points. The ref actually signals the end of the first round without either of them causing any major damage to the other.

  Brittany shakes her head. “He’s holding back,” she says, more to herself than to me.

  Killjoy gestures madly to Colt. I try to settle down. It’s going fine. It’ll just be a point match. It’s a good start for a comeback.

  But as soon as the second round begins, it’s nothing like the first. Jumpstart is bored with the wrestling and goes back to his old style. His hands are relentless, pushing punches at Colt with a speed that would tire out even the best-trained fighter.

  Colt knows this. He dodges and kicks, getting his own jabs in. But it’s not going to be good enough to win on points if he doesn’t step up.

  Then suddenly Colt’s on him, striking Jumpstart’s face and arms and gut. I almost leap from my chair. I see why Killjoy can’t contain himself when watching matches. I want to fight alongside him.

  Colt is dominating, pushing Jumpstart back. I’m floored at his tenacity and power. He’s a machine, a brute force, raining punches.

  Then, just as quickly, the tide completely turns. I don’t know if Colt gets tired, or if Jumpstart was holding back. But he leaps at Colt, wrapping an arm around his neck and getting in a painful series of jabs to Colt’s jaw.

  I’m about to collapse from the strain of watching when the second round ends.

  Killjoy presses a towel against Colt’s brow, which is oozing blood. Jumpstart is bleeding too, and his trainer works to stanch the flow.

  “I can’t keep track of how it’s scored,” I say to Brittany.

  She shrugs. “It can go either way.”

  Colt glances over at me just as the ref announces round three. I hope I look encouraging. I can’t quite figure out what’s different about him here than in training. Something hasn’t carried over.

  I hope he can hold out. Losing on a judging decision isn’t nearly as terrible as having the ref call a match. If he can’t win it outright, it’s what I hope for.

  But even I can see when Jumpstart steps toward Colt for the last round that he’s got something Colt has lost. He wants the win. He’s hungry.

  They strike evenly for a good minute, and once again, I see it coming. It’s what Killjoy calls a power punch, the kind that knocks out a fighter with a single strike.

  I wish I could jump in the ring and take it instead. Jumpstart lands it perfectly, an uppercut to the jaw, just slightly to one side. Colt’s head snaps to one side.

  He stumbles back, dazed. For a moment I think he’s going to recover, but the ref sees something I don’t know and calls the knockout.

  Killjoy heads into the cage to lead Colt out. He’s actually stumbling. Panic bolts through me, and I run from my chair.

  Buster steps up to take Colt’s other arm. My fear peaks that Colt is actually hurt this time. It’s bound to be a concussion. Maybe something worse.

  When they move toward the dressing room, I try to follow. But when Colt sees me, he holds out his hand. “No,” he says to Killjoy. “Get her out of here.”

  He can’t mean me. I look from Killjoy to Buster. Killjoy’s face is a mask. Buster seems sympathetic.

  I come up behind them anyway. Brittany zips beside me and grabs my arm. “Oh, no, you don’t.”

  “Colt?” I plead.

  But he doesn’t even look back.

  Brittany tries to drag me toward the door, but I’m stronger and scrappier than the last time she and I had a tussle. I fight her, and I’m not playing nice. I grab her braid and use it to whip her in a circle.

  “Corey!” she calls out. One of the burly security guards leaves his post by the doorway and grabs my arm.

  A second security guard takes the other one, and they lift me up. My body’s in the air now, my feet nowhere near the floor. I try to bring on the hurricane, but it doesn’t come. I’m too upset, too worried.

  They manage to wrestle me outside. I think they’re going to just toss me out like a rowdy cowboy from a bar. But at the curb, there’s a long gleaming limo.

  Brittany steps up behind me. “Well, look at that. How convenient.”

  I fight against the guards, but with the two of them lifting me beneath my shoulders, I can’t get any leverage.

  Brittany knocks on the window of the limo.

  Slowly, the door glides open with an electronic hum.

  She bends inside. “I’ve got another gym rat for you to deal with,” she says. “Sorry to dump her on you like this.”

  I can’t hear if anyone replies. After a second, Brittany nods and backs away. “Load her up,” she tells the guards.

  They thrust me inside and block my exit as the door closes.

  The interior is dark. My eyes slowly adjust, and I follow a trail of dim lights along the floor to a pair of gleaming black shoes. Above them are perfectly creased black dress pants. Two oversized hands rest on a pair of knees.

  “I see my son hasn’t lost his taste for petite little virgin girls,” says a voice. I recognize it immediately from interviews and sports news.

  It’s The Cure McClure, Colt’s father.

  Chapter 18

  My heart is hammering seriously now. “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  He leans forward, his face closer to the twist of blue neon on the ceiling. A long seat wraps around the inside of the limo. He’s at the other end.

  “I hear
d Gunner was doing a fight off the books.” He reaches for a stubby glass on a shelf beside him. An amber liquid swirls inside. He holds it out. “Need a drink?”

  I shake my head no.

  He takes a sip himself. “Sounds like he took a good pummeling in there.”

  I’m not sure what to say. The limo moves forward, and I grip the armrest at my end of the seat. “Where are we going?”

  “That depends on you,” Cure says. “And how cooperative you are.”

  “I don’t have anything to do with you,” I say. But I’m guessing he’s going to try to get me to back off Colt. Fat chance.

  Still, my heart still stings from Colt’s insistence I stay away. Maybe he wants his father to get rid of me.

  “Oh, but you do,” Cure says. In the blue light, his face is eerily dark. His hair is buzzed short. At fifty, he’s still a very handsome man, but the years of fighting show in the bump of his nose, the lines around his eyes.

  He sets the drink down. “Let me guess how this went. Colt saw you street fighting somewhere. Or just in some sort of altercation. He swoops in and saves you.”

  My stomach starts to turn.

  He goes on. “Then he tells you that you have potential. Gets you a job where you can be near him.”

  I’m feeling really sick now.

  He leans forward again. “And the clincher is always that you’ve never had sex before. That’s his special touch.” He laughs a little. “He and I have always had a sixth sense about that.”

  My breathing has sped up. I don’t know what to believe. Maybe Brittany put him up to this.

  Cure looks me hard in the eyes. “But he’s already had you. And now he’s trying to shake you loose.”

  “He is not!”

  He opens a side compartment next to his elbow. “That’s what the last three said.” He shakes his head as he pulls out a checkbook. “Let’s figure out how much your bruised little cherry is worth.”

  I flood so hot that in any other circumstance, I would have jumped him, three-time heavyweight boxing champion or not.

  But I just need out. I need Colt. I need to talk to him.

  Cure clicks a pen. “Ten grand?” He looks at me. “Wrong-side-of-the-tracks virgins aren’t as valuable as a debutante.”

  The hurricane is finally rising. The limo can’t contain it. I can’t tell where we’re going. Only the streetlights penetrate the dark windows as we roll along some avenue. But I’m not going to sit there one more minute.

  While Cure scratches out some figure on his check, I lunge for the door and pry it open. The pavement rushes by in a blur, and a fire hydrant is just a blip of red as we fly past it.

  But I don’t care.

  I jump.

  The End of Volume 2 - UNCAGED LOVE by JJ KNIGHT

  UNCAGED LOVE is a 5-book series about Jo and Colt.

  For a list of all books and projects,

  click here JJ Knight on Amazon.

  Thank you for reading!

  Love, JJ

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