“Thanks very much,” the applause died down as he spoke. “We appreciate so many of you coming out today. With the vote coming up about the MMA League being allowed in New York State, we wanted the sport to have a little representation here; and we’re happy it’s so well attended.
There was a self-congratulatory murmur from the crowd of reporters.
“We’re here today to talk about the super-heavyweight bout in three weeks’ time,” Dan continued. “Rashaan Jackson’s appearance mixed things up a little; and that means the super-heavyweight division still has a lot of competition in it.”
There was another murmur from the crowd.
Lyssa knew what they were complaining about. Some purists believed Rashaan’s defeat over Wlodek “The Bear” Winogrodzki should have paved the way for a direct match-up against the current super-heavyweight champ – 400lb mountain-of-a-man Magnus Bjorn.
But what was ‘right’ didn’t always make for good entertainment; which is why Silas was back in the league.
Voicing everybody’s thoughts, a journalist at the back of the room held up his hand.
“Yes?” Dan Blanc answered, pointing to him.
“Silas,” the reporter addressed Lyssa’s lover. “How do you respond to criticism about you being back on the roster? You suffered a pretty hard defeat against Winogrodzki. Shouldn’t you stand aside for Rashaan?”
Sila grabbed the mic, and growled: “I didn’t get defeated. I got injured.”
Looking across the table, towards the growling brown face of Rashaan Jackson, Silas hissed:
“Rashaan is a tough and mean opponent, but his win over Winogrodzki meant as much as my loss to him. Nothing.”
Silas’ lips curled arrogantly.
“If ‘Hungry’ over there wants to go up against Magnus Bjorn, he’s going to have to earn that right.”
“Oh, I’ll earn it alright, son,” Jackson snapped, from the other end of the table. Pointing an accusing finger as Silas, he growled: “Imma put you back in that wheelchair, Batras. Show everybody you don’t belong in this league.”
Silas pushed his chair back, making to stand up – and Jack Ranger actually had to hold Rashaan back from doing the same.
“Okay, okay,” Dan Blanc tried to restore order. “Do we have any more questions?”
And, as a dozen hands went up amongst the assembled reporters, Lyssa realized that there was more at stake in this fight than even she’d anticipated.
Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen
Lyssa
An hour later, after the last reporter had asked his question, the bar was opened again and more networking was encouraged.
Lyssa found herself back in the ballroom, with a third margarita in her hand. She was already anticipating the forth; grateful they’d taken the train into the city, rather than driving.
A security official had told her that Rashaan had stormed out of the hotel after the press conference – which was probably a good thing. He and Silas had been like angry pitbulls, snapping at each other from across the conference table. Out here, fueled by complimentary drinks, they might have thrown down Vegas style; only without the benefit of pay-per-view.
But since there wasn’t any risk of that, Lyssa hung near the bar, and waited for Silas to come out and join her.
“Lyssa!”
There was a bark from across the room.
“Lyssa Meadows!”
Lyssa turned, and saw Dan Blanc passing through the crowd towards her. Jack Ranger, his Head of Marketing, was following along behind; and they both made a beeline for where Lyssa was standing.
A little daunted, she held her ground as they approached.
“Good to see you, Lyssa,” Dan was holding out his hand. Lyssa shook it nervously. “You know Jack, right? My Head of Marketing.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Jack nodded, offering his own hand. “I’ve read your columns. Good stuff.”
“T-thanks,” Lyssa smiled graciously. As a sports columnist for a declining paper, she was sometimes surprised anybody read what she wrote.
“Actually, it’s about that,” Dan grinned. “You got five minutes to talk?”
Lyssa looked around the ballroom. Silas was nowhere in sight.
“Sure, I guess,” she drained her margarita. “I’m not in trouble, am I?”
“No, no,” Dan shook his head. “This is good news.”
“C’mon,” Jack touched her elbow, and directed her towards the door. “This’ll only take a minute.”
And, like that, Lyssa found herself being led from the ballroom.
Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen
Silas
Hair slicked back, and cologne applied, Silas Batra appeared at the entrance to the ballroom at literally the same moment as Lyssa left.
In fact, he saw her from across the room – being led off by Dan Blanc and Jack Ranger.
Narrowing his eyes, the enormous fighter lumbered over to the bar and ordered himself a sparkling water – mouth watering at the sight of all the ice-cold bottles of beer he’d have been preferring to have been enjoying instead.
“Hey, yo!”
A pat on the back. Sloshing water over his hand, Silas wheeled around and found himself looking down at a lanky, blond man who’d just slapped his shoulder.
Silas recognized him as another MMA League fighter – Travis Oates.
Or, just ‘Travis’ as Lyssa had referred to him today, suggesting a little over-familiarity.
“Yo,” the blond man repeated, holding out his hand in expectation of a handshake. “Silas Batras, right? I just saw you up on stage. Great stuff, man. Can’t wait to see you and Rashaan go at it.”
Silas shook Travis’ hand suspiciously.
“Hope you don’t mind me intrudin’,” the Texan grinned, giving Silas an over-familiar wink. “I’ve been a fan of yours for a while. I wanted to come over and introduce myself.”
Silas grunted.
“I know you,” he admitted, sipping his sparkling water. “I saw your fight with ‘Bruiser’ Broderick the other month. Tough break, man.”
Travis’ smile wavered a bit, as he remembered his humiliating defeat at the hands of the junior fighter.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “But you live and learn, right?”
Silas nodded, and as their conversation took a natural break, he looked over his shoulder towards the door – where Lyssa and the two MMA League executives were leaving the ballroom.
“Who you lookin’ at?” Travis grinned, again being a little over-familiar. “That cutie with the tattoos?”
Silas blinked. Then it occurred to him that this good-looking young Texan would have no idea that he and Lyssa were lovers.
“Yeah,” Silas grunted, no wishing to give that information up.
“You know Lyssa Meadows, right?” Travis grinned, having no idea that Silas knew her intimately. “Didn’t she interview you out in Spain, or something.”
“That’s right,” Silas nodded.
The Texan sipped his drink.
“Nice girl. She and I used to…” He paused, and grinned devilishly. “Y’know.”
Silas didn’t know, but he figured it out pretty quickly - and it hit him like a punch to the stomach.
Travis noticed the reaction, but misread it.
“Oh, don’t you worry,” he punched Silas’ massive bicep. “There ain’t nothing going on between us now. Old news.”
That didn’t make Silas feel all that much better. He knew he shouldn’t be upset – Lyssa had already confused that she’d ‘dated a couple of MMA fighters’ in the past.
But to suddenly meet one of them? It was awkward.
“She’s single, as far as I know,” Travis continued, apparently trying to set Lyssa up. “Unless she’s leavin’ ‘cos she’s got something going on with Dan and Jack.”
Travis snorted.
“Wouldn’t surprise me. That girl likes her MMA fighters.”
Again, the insinuation hit Silas like punch to the guts – but h
e shook it off.
He knew nothing was going on between Lyssa and the executives from the MMA League – and Travis himself had already confirmed that anything he’d had with Lyssa was in the past.
But it still wasn’t any easy realization to process.
“Yeah,” Travis purred obliviously, patting Silas on the shoulder again. “She’s a nice girl. If you like her, you should go for it. But be careful, man – she’s a wild one.”
Silas raised one cynical eyebrow.
“Oh, yes?”
Travis laughed.
With no idea about Silas’ relationship with Lyssa, the lanky Texan laughed:
“She’s pretty open-minded. Me and my buddy Nikolai were foolin’ around with her for a couple of months.”
“You each dated her?” Again, Silas tried to swallow the pain of hearing that. It wasn’t like he had any right to feel jealous of her past.
Or, at least, he felt that way until Travis made his next admission.
“Not quite, buddy,” the Texan corrected, “we didn’t date her. We both fooled around with her. At the same time.”
He snorted.
“Guess you could say she was literally too much woman for just the one of us!”
Silas literally reeled as he heard that.
His sweet little Lyssa? Had been tag-teaming this guy, and his buddy?
“Sweet lil’ piece of ass,” Travis obviously raised his glass. “And she’s a nice girl, too. Deserves someone who’ll treat her right…”
But Silas never heard that last bit.
Staggering back, he cast one more look towards the door Lyssa had gone through – and then stormed off in the opposite direction.
Travis watched him go.
“Hey,” the Texan called after him. “Was it something I said?”
But Silas didn’t hear that, either. He was already half way to the door.
Chapter One Hundred and Seventeen
Lyssa
“Take a seat, Ms. Meadows,” Dan Blanc grinned, as they headed into a break room off from the Hotel W ballroom.
As Lyssa took a chair at the conference table, Dan cracked open a beer from a cooler in the corner, and Jack sipped from one he’d clearly opened earlier.
The fact that the two men were acting so nonchalant made her a little less nervous about being dragged off around the corner by them.
“So Lyssa,” Jack was smiling, as he sat down opposite her. “I’ve been reading your columns from the Herald Tribune. They’re good. Really good.”
“Yeah,” Dan perched on the edge of the table, and peered at the print outs of her columns that Jack had been looking through. “How much does the Tribune pay you, by the way?”
Cheeks burning a little red, Lyssa confessed: “$35,000 a year.” Being a journalist was never going to be a recipe for riches, but in New York even that was considered barely enough to live off.
“Well, listen,” Jack peered across the table at her. “We know how things are going at the Herald-Tribune…”
Dan laughed cynically when he heard that. Jack shot him a dirty look.
“…so we have a proposition for you.”
Lyssa narrowed her eyes. This was starting to sound more and more suspicious.
“We just had a vacancy open up,” Dan leaned forward, “so we wanted to know if you’d consider joining our blogging team.”
Lyssa blinked.
“Your blogging team?”
The MMA League, in addition to their multi-million dollar HQ in Vegas, also ran a world-famous combat sports website; scoring millions of hits every month.
“You’re a great writer,” Jack prompted, “and you know MMA as well as anybody.”
I should do, Lyssa snapped to herself. I’ve been following it for fifteen years.
“And we figured we owed you,” Dan added. “You really came through for us with the Silas thing.”
And that was true enough. The buzz and media attention the Batras vs. Jackson fight was getting was all thanks to Lyssa talking Silas into accepting the matchup.
“We’ll start you at $50,000,” Jack suggested. “I know that’s not a big bump, but you can work from wherever you want.”
Lyssa’s eyes widened. Were these guys for real?
“But just know this: It’s not a cake-walk, honey,” Dan added. “We’ll expect more than a column from you a week.”
“Multiple posts, every day,” Jack confirmed. “And we’ll need you to interview people, shoot videos, attend events.”
“But there’ll be bonuses depending how many hits your articles get,” Dan promised, “and you’ll have insider access like nobody else. How does that sound?”
Lyssa flopped back in her seat and blinked.
It sounded amazing.
She knew the writing was on the wall at the Herald-Tribune; but this was beyond anything she could have wished for. And, more importantly than that, it meant that her one excuse for not staying in Spain, with Silas, had evaporated.
“You don’t need to tell us now,” Jack said soothingly, even though it was clear from the expression on Lyssa’s face that she’d accepted the job. “Talk to your boss, and get back to us.”
“We’d be excited to have you on the team,” Dan added. “And the first thing we’d like you to do is cover the fight next month.”
And, like that, the discussion was over.
“Let us know,” Jack reminded her, clambering up from his seat.
The two of them led Lyssa to the door, and both shook hands with her before she left.
And then she found herself alone, stumbling back out into the ballroom with a thousand complicated thoughts whizzing through her head.
She needed to find Silas, so he could help her process some of them.
But where was he?
Chapter One Hundred and Eighteen
Lyssa
“Can I buy you a drink, sugar?”
The voice distracted Lyssa, and she wheeled around to find Travis Oates leering down at her.
His breath smelt like tequila, and his sharp, blue eyes were a little fuzzy. Clearly he’d got his money’s worth from the complimentary beverages.
“Hey, Travis,” Lyssa growled, peering over the Texan’s shoulder to scan the ballroom. “Can’t really talk right now. I’m looking for somebody.”
Emboldened by the booze, Travis purred: “Well, if you’re lookin’, I’m right here.” He leaned a little closer. “Look, I know things with Nikolai are at an end, but maybe you and I could…”
“Stop,” Lyssa’s voice was sharp enough to make the towering Texan stagger back. “Look, don’t ruin what you said earlier. What we had – whatever it was – is done. Let’s just leave it like that, okay?”
Travis looked a little hurt, but nodded.
“Besides,” Lyssa said soothingly. “I wasn’t making up what I told you earlier. I’ve got something going on in my own life now, okay? Someone.”
“You do?” Travis shrugged drunkenly. “Well, good for y’all, y’know?” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Listen, I’m really happy for you...”
“Thanks,” Lyssa said dismissively, shrugging off his heavy arm. “Now, if I could only find him.”
Travis wheeled drunkenly around and surveyed the crowd.
“He’s here tonight?” He hiccupped. “This I gotta see. Hope the dude’s worthy of my lil’ Lyssa.”
Lyssa snorted bitterly. “I was never your lil’ Lyssa.” Rolling her eyes, she added: “But, yes. He’s very worthy of me.” She allowed her lips to curl. “In fact, I think even you’ll be impressed.”
But as she scanned the crowd, the intimidating bulk of Silas was nowhere to be seen.
“Where is he?”
“Where is who?” Travis slurred. “Who is this mysterious man? Is he another reporter? A fighter?”
Lyssa turned and grinned wryly at Travis.
“As a matter of fact,” she hissed, deliciously proud of herself, “he is. It’s Silas. Silas Batras
.”
Nothing could have prepared Lyssa for Travis’ response.
She’d expected the Texan fighter to be impressed – perhaps even a little jealous. After all, all the reporters and journalists have gathered here tonight to see Silas, not the twice-defeated cowboy from Galveston.
But, instead, Travis’ eyes widened and he simply mouthed the word: “Fuck.”
“Fuck?” Lyssa narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, ‘fuck’?”
“Oh, Lyssa, sugar, I had no idea.”
“No idea? What are you talking about, Travis?” And then it hit her – the look of guilt on his handsome face. “Shit, Travis… What did you do?”
“Hey, when you peeled off with Dan Blanc, I saw Silas wanderin’ around this place. I went over and said hi – to be sociable, like.”
Lyssa felt butterflies churn in her stomach.
“H-he was watchin’ you leave,” Travis continued, “and I had no idea you two were dating.” He snorted bitterly. “Shit, I just thought the big, dumb bastard was crushin’ on you, or something.”
“Holy shit, Travis,” Lyssa gasped. “What did you tell him?”
“N-nuttin’,” Travis promised. “I mean, nuttin’ but the truth.” The lanky Texan wrung his hands. “Oh, shit, Lyssa. I had no idea.”
She just stood there, stunned, as Travis continued talking.
“S-so I told him about us. You and me.” There was a guilty pause. “And Nikolai.”
Lyssa swooned back, and the table behind her rattled as she used it to catch herself.
“Honey, I didn’t mean to blow up your spot,” Travis pleaded. “I was just shootin’ the shit with the big fella. I had no idea.”
“Where did he go, Travis?” Lyssa demanded.
“I dunno,” Travis shrugged. “The big guy just looked real pissed for a second, and then stormed off.” The Texan gulped. “Honey, I had no idea you were the reason.”
Lyssa sunk her head into her hands.
She couldn’t change her past. But she hadn’t wanted Silas to find out about it like this. He’d clearly stormed off – and Lyssa did know where.
Broken: An Alpha Bad Boy MMA Romance Page 23
