“What? How’d you know I was out?” Rico questioned in disbelief.
“You were on TV last night, making out with her at some bar. I’m just glad Avery didn’t see it. She would have been crushed.”
Rico wiped his blood-covered fingers on his shorts then slowly stood. He looked Lindsay in the eye. “For the record, I didn’t dump Avery. She dumped me.” He motioned around him. “Over this. Over her ridiculous celebrity complex. I’m one of them now. What you saw was my crazy ass ex-girlfriend trying to get back together with me. I didn’t invite her. She invited herself. I want nothing to do with her. It’ll never happen. I’m desperately in love with Avery. I have a fight in three weeks, and if my head isn’t in the right place, I’m going to be destroyed. That kiss is where the night ended. I can’t forget Avery. I don’t think I ever will. She’s that deep in my heart. She’s not the only one who’s broken. I’m broken, too. And ultimately, I’m going to be screwed.”
Rico spun toward the locker room to stop his nose from bleeding. Out of the corner of his eye, he couldn’t miss Lindsay’s dumbfounded look. He stormed away without another word.
Chapter Eight
The bar was darkly lit. Lindsay could barely make out the bodies scattered around the room sipping on bottles of beer and grinding against each other to the blaring music. He slumped onto a barstool and rubbed his shaved head. It had been a long week working security at the bank. He needed a few beers to relax his nerves.
He sighed. Then, there was Avery. She spent nearly every moment in her pajamas. She didn’t go to class. She didn’t go to work. Her eyes were swollen with tears. He shook his head. Avery. His baby sister. The consummate Marine. Nothing had fazed her. She had held her head high, proudly. He couldn’t remember the last time she had shed a tear. After Rico, she fell to pieces.
He took a long, slow sip of beer as he watched the Twins play on the television behind the bar. He turned as he heard a scuffle behind him. He snorted. Drunken idiots. He returned to the game. Moments later, he spun his stool back toward the door, noticing a crowd gathering in the parking lot. He frowned. Curiosity got the better of him. He stood and set his bottle down on the bar before he strode outside.
A mob gathered around five men taking turns beating on someone. Whoever their victim was, he wasn’t fighting back. Lindsay cringed at the sound of his pained groans.
“That’ll teach you to stay out of our business, you stupid son of a bitch!” A stocky man in a brown crew cut and lilac polo shirt shouted before he swung his leg back and delivered a kick. The impact was forceful enough to send his victim flying in the air several inches, scattering gravel as the body landed back on the ground. Lindsay had seen enough. He shoved through the crowd to stop the fight.
He stopped short, his mouth gaping open.
Rico lay on the ground, unconscious. His face was a bloody mess, littered with cuts and bruises. By the angle of his body, Lindsay feared there was more critical damage.
The guy in the lilac shirt reared his leg back for another blow. “Dumb—”
Lindsay flew across the parking lot and pinned the guy against the closest car. “You and your buddies need to get lost now.” He brushed back his jacket to reveal his gun. “Understand me?”
The guy nodded frantically as he twisted out of Lindsay’s grasp. As the crowd dissipated, he sank to his knees beside Rico. He shook Rico’s shoulder violently. The only reaction he got was a low moan. He flipped open his phone to call for an ambulance. His eyes shot around the parking lot as he gave the information to the dispatcher.
How did these guys get the best of an MMA fighter who has studied for years? The answer was simple. Rico hadn’t fought back. He had let them beat him down. Lindsay let go a heavy sigh as he hung up.
He reached his hand out for the flat square object in Rico’s pocket. He scrolled through Rico’s contacts then chose one. He listened as the cell dialed.
“Rico, what’s up?” Max’s voice came through the speaker.
“This isn’t Rico. This is Lindsay Walker.”
“What the hell are you doing with Rico’s phone?” Max demanded.
“Rico’s hurt pretty bad. He allowed himself to be a punching bag for five thugs. He didn’t fight back. We’re at that country bar off I-35W, about a mile or so from your gym.”
“I’m on my way. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
Lindsay set the phone on the ground as the line went dead. The sound of sirens chirped through the neighborhood. Seconds later, a patrol car, fire truck, and ambulance were crowding the parking lot. The rear doors of the ambulance flew open with a bang. A large man in a doctor’s coat jumped out and sprinted to them. Lindsay recognized him instantly. He was one of the guys who had held him back from Rico at Hard Drive.
“Did you do this?” the doctor demanded.
“No, man. Five lowlifes did. Ask anyone in the bar,” Lindsay defended.
He glared at Lindsay warily as he sank to his knees beside his friend. He gently rolled Rico to his back then shook him. Rico groaned in response.
“Hey, man. It’s me, Mark. Wake up,” his friend encouraged.
Rico cracked open a swollen eye. “Leave me alone, Dan.”
Lindsay listened as Mark cursed under his breath. The sound of scattering gravel announced the arrival of another person.
“What’s going on?” Max pleaded.
“It isn’t good, Max. I was going to check for a concussion. I don’t need to,” Mark replied.
“Why not?”
“He called me Dan. I have six inches and over a hundred pounds on Dan, not to mention we have different hair and eye color. You can’t confuse us unless you’re in real bad shape. He needs to get to the hospital for at least a CT scan and possibly a MRI.”
Mark motioned for the paramedics. Max and Lindsay stepped back to let Mark and the paramedics work. Once they had Rico safely transferred to the gurney, Mark gave them a few brief instructions. Mark and Max quickly muttered to each other. Max took off running for his car as Mark hopped back into the ambulance with Rico, leaving Lindsay alone.
Slowly, he shuffled into the bar. He made his way back to his stool and ordered another beer. He took a sip of beer then winced. He could no longer enjoy it. All he could think about was the melee that had just taken place outside. When Avery had first introduced him to Rico Choate, he knew he had recognized the fighter from somewhere.
Lindsay had seen dozens of Rico’s fights. He was a brilliant mixed martial artist. He saw combos and holds before his opponent threw them. He was a natural.
A nagging voice in the back of Lindsay’s head begged to know why Rico didn’t fight back outside in the parking lot. But the answer was clear as crystal. Lindsay just didn’t want to face it.
The suave, smooth womanizer had fallen for his little sister. Without her, Rico had nothing else to live for, including the career he had spent years building.
Lindsay set the bottle back on the bar, paid the bartender, and then made his way to his truck.
He didn’t remember the drive home or walking into the house until he sank into the soft cushion of the sofa. He stared aimlessly at the television, not recognizing the show playing on the screen. He had the proverbial Romeo and Juliet on his hands. Except this Juliet couldn’t put aside her stubborn pride long enough to see how much Romeo was in love with her.
He was jostled from his thoughts by a hand slapping his shoulder. Avery stared down at him in terror, a fresh batch of tears brimming in her eyes. What happened? Are you all right?
Lindsay looked down at his T-shirt. The drab gray was dotted with splotches of crimson. He frowned then signed. I am fine. There was a fight at the bar.
Were you in it?
Well, sort of, yes.
What do you mean sort of?
I scared off the attackers.
Is the guy they hurt all right?
Lindsay couldn’t hold back the cringe at her question. He pinched his eyes shut, hoping Avery would drop t
he subject. Her continual poking told him otherwise.
He slowly opened his eyes. She glared at him. What are you not telling me, Lindsay?
He took a deep breath and held it. They beat up Rico, Avery.
Her eyes grew wide as tears streamed down her cheeks. No. Rico would fight back. He did the night we went out when those guys were harassing me.
I think it was the same five guys. He didn’t fight back.
She glanced from his face to his bloody shirt. He would fight back, she insisted.
He has nothing to fight for, Avery.
What did he have to fight for before?
Lindsay watched her for a long moment before he signed. You.
Avery’s whimpers turned to sobs as she collapsed on the sofa beside him. He wrapped her tight in his arms to comfort her, cradling her head against his chest as she cried.
»»•««
Rico clenched his eyes shut as he flung himself against the hospital pillow. He growled in frustration. He hated hospitals. Had since he was a kid. Spending two weeks in one at thirteen for a broken jaw had sworn him off them. He’d rather bleed to death.
Unfortunately, since Rico had arrived in Minneapolis, he no longer made his medical decisions. Mark did. It didn’t help that one of his best friends was an emergency room doctor. And this time, he hadn’t been coherent enough to protest.
He slowly opened his eyes as he heard footsteps on the tile floor. Then quickly, he squeezed them tight again. The lights were as dim as they would go, but they still made his head throb. He squinted enough to make out the blurry image of Max.
“How are you doing?” Max asked softly.
“Fantastic. Never been better,” Rico snapped.
“Glad to see your smart ass, cynical attitude is still intact.”
“Some things will never change.”
Max shoved his hands in his pockets then looked away for a moment. He turned back to Rico. “I’m pulling you from the fight.”
Rico shot up in the hospital bed then doubled over in pain. “You can’t do that to me. That fight is all I have right now.”
“You’re lying in a hospital bed after being beaten up by a bunch of thugs. You didn’t fight back. You let them tear you apart. Tell me I’m wrong.”
Rico glared at him silently.
Max shook his head. “You’ve skipped practices. You aren’t performing when you’re there. You’re falling apart, Rico. What else am I supposed to do?”
“Believe in me.”
“I do. But I can’t be part of your suicide mission.” Max sighed. “Rico, you’ve got to get Avery out of your head. You’ve got to get past her.”
Rico let go a weak laugh. “Don’t you think I wish I could?”
“You need to get it done.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You got the woman you love. You got your happily ever after.”
“You think it was easy? It wasn’t. Far from it. Chloe was sick. She didn’t trust me. It took weeks to get her to do that. Then, I nearly lost her to Phoebe’s lie.”
Rico gave him a feeble smile. “I know. Remember? Who found the ring? Who talked sense into both of you? Oh, that’s right. Me. I did.” He rubbed his eyes. “Please, Max. Let me fight. I swear I’ll be in the gym every day. I’ll be the best. Don’t take this last thing away from me. Please.”
Max stared at him for a moment then pulled a hand free from his pocket. He shook Rico’s. “I’m holding you to it.”
“Thank you, Max.”
Max settled into a chair beside Rico’s bed. The room fell quiet. Not another word was said between them. There didn’t need to be. Rico was grateful for his best friend. But Max was more than a friend—he was a brother. And there was no way Rico would let him down.
»»•««
Through the next couple of weeks, Rico spent every free moment he had at the gym. He lifted, sparred, and even taught a few classes. He steadily regained his spot as one of the superior mixed martial artists at Hard Drive. The mojo was back.
Yet, once he stepped across the threshold of his apartment, his world came crashing back down. He would drop his bag on the sofa then shuffle to the refrigerator, prying it open and snatching a beer. It would be the first of many for the night.
He wasn’t about to tell anyone of his drinking. Passing out was the closest he ever got to a good night sleep. He hated himself for every swig he took. Every drink reminded him of his father. Of that night. Of the one too many gin and tonics the man had swilled before getting behind the steering wheel of the family sedan and killing Rico’s mother and the couple in the other car.
Rico couldn’t remember a time his father hadn’t had a drink in his hand. He had obsessed about alcohol just like Rico obsessed about mixed martial arts. It was just one more sin Rico would never forgive himself for. At least he would be plenty sober before he got to the gym the next day.
Finally, the week of the fight arrived. Rico waited by the curb for his ride to the airport. A vintage sports car slowly rumbled a path between the cars on the street and stopped before him.
“Ready to go?” Max questioned.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Rico slid in the passenger seat. “Mark and Dan?”
“Will meet us at the airport.”
“Chloe?”
“Going to fly out right before the fight. We both agreed that I don’t need the distraction. I need to focus on the fight and my opponent. If she’s there, I’ll be thinking of her. Not that I won’t be missing her like crazy.”
Rico winced at his words. He knew about missing a woman. Missing Avery was driving him insane.
Max pulled into the long-term parking lot and found a spot. Both men slung their luggage over their shoulders and hiked the distance to the terminal. They were met halfway there by Mark and Dan.
“Rise and shine, campers! Are we ready for Florida?” Mark chirped excitedly.
“Looks like someone finally got a good night’s sleep,” Max laughed.
“Nope. Got off work an hour ago. I’m looking forward to getting some sleep as soon as we board that plane.”
“Once we pry you into the seat. Kind of like a sardine can. Did you bring your shoe horn?” Dan chuckled.
Mark glared at him as the rest laughed. They picked up their luggage and finished the walk to the building. They talked and joked as they waited to go through security and board the plane. Rico watched as Mark carefully settled into his small seat. How such a big guy could sleep in such tiny confines was beyond him. Maybe Dan had a good idea with the shoe horn. But Mark was right. They weren’t twenty minutes in the air before he was snoring away.
The flight gave Rico time to think. Was this the life he wanted? Or had he let the life he really wanted slip through his fingers? He knew the answer to those questions. But it was too late to make the right decision for his future. It was time for a change. He elbowed Mark to wake him up as the plane descended.
Once they checked into their hotel, they headed to the gym that Max had arranged to practice in for the week. It would be an all-day training session, with flocks of people shuffling in and out to watch them. Maybe if Rico was lucky, one of those people would be who he was looking for. After an hour taking turns rolling with the rest of the guys, his luck came walking in.
A small, bald, rotund man waddled up to a group from the arena. By the reaction of the well-dressed group, they weren’t excited to see him. Rico knew why. Paul ran a low level MMA fan blog and was frequently nosing around in the wrong places for a juicy tidbit to share with his followers. He rubbed on the last nerve of fighters and promoters alike. He was just what Rico needed.
Rico crossed the mat to retrieve his water bottle, waving to the men watching. If I get close enough…
“Hey, Rico!” Paul shouted eagerly.
Rico offered up a customary eye roll. He couldn’t show his cards quite yet. “Yeah, Paul. What do you want?”
“Got anything you want to share on my blog before your fight?”
&
nbsp; Rico paused. “Yeah. I just might. Meet me in my hotel’s bar at seven tonight. I’m staying at the one just down the street from the arena. We’ll talk.”
“That’s great.” Paul’s arms waved in excitement. He clearly believed he had just gotten the break of the year. “Seven. Got it. I’ll be there.”
“See you then.” Rico dropped his bottle on the bench then returned to spar some more.
That night, he showered as quickly as possible then raced down to the bar to meet Paul. As he sank into the booth in the far corner, he struggled with himself over ordering a beer. He needed to stay sober the entire week he was here. When the waitress sashayed over, he begrudgingly ordered a ginger ale.
He smiled as he watched Paul hustle between patrons and tables, his face bright red as he huffed and puffed. Rico smirked as he offered the man a seat so they could begin.
The interview took over an hour. When they were finished talking, Paul scuttled, wide-eyed, from the lounge, making a beeline for his own room. Rico chuckled as he slowly stood and stretched. He had never seen the large man move so fast. His plan had worked just as he hoped.
As he strode into the lobby, he heard his name called. He turned to find Max, Mark, and Dan approaching.
“Where’ve you been, Rico?” Max questioned.
“Doing an interview.”
“I thought we did interviews together.”
“Do we have to do everything together? When did we become Siamese twins?” Rico snapped before he spun on his toe and stormed to his room, leaving the other three men in stunned silence. Did he want to lash out at his best friends? No. But all hell was going to break loose in the morning when the video he had just recorded went viral. He needed to prepare for the onslaught.
As he had predicted, he was woken up the next morning by a fist pounding on the door. He took a deep breath and opened it. Max’s eyes were near murderous as he clenched his tablet in his hand.
“Why didn’t you talk to me?” Max demanded. “Do you know what it was like, learning it on the internet? I thought we were brothers.”
Breaking the Silence (Hard Drive Book 2) Page 12
