Caged Love: MMA Contemporary Suspense (Book Two)

by Thunderbolt, Liberty

  “Okay Brooke, let’s get a couple movies then you can tell me the rest.”

  Bretten clutched her hand and pulled her up close to him as he stood.

  “I could use something funny,” she said.

  Chapter 24

  The Jeep Wrangler’s engine clicked and popped as it cooled. Bear sat in the driver’s seat talking on his cell phone. He’d had the damn thing glued to his head for the last five hours. No doubt he enjoyed his recent successes, but hated all the extra work. He wrapped up the call and turned off his phone. He thought once again that it would be a hell of a lot easier to just hit a mega jackpot.

  He eyed the mostly empty office complex with contempt. He detested coming here because it was either to ask for more money or repay Mr. Smith. The prick made him pay in person with cash every single time. He knew the routine well, but despised it just as much now as he did the first few times.

  The building worked well to hide its deviant occupant. Nobody would suspect that out here north of town in a new office complex, littered with for lease signs, and lined by neat rows of newly planted trees, was a very dangerous man. And he was hell-bent on making money without regard for the law.

  Bear dug into the console and fished out his nice watch, a Citizen Calibre with a stainless steel gold tone band. He wore it only when he wanted to impress. The last time he slipped it on he’d signed Bretten and Rodrigo, but his suit sleeve obscured the watch. That wouldn’t happen today as he donned a light gray short-sleeved Polo shirt.

  He checked the mirror and smoothed his collar, then climbed out of his Jeep and stepped directly onto a fine line of black tar on the new cement. Thankfully it wasn’t hot enough to make the substance sticky. A few uneven strides and he stood at the darkened glass door that read Smith and Associates.

  He pushed the button and waited for the familiar buzz. He didn’t know where the camera was, but was sure it was scrutinizing him. From deep inside the office came a buzzing sound and with a snap the door unlatched. He pushed it open and the cool air made him catch his breath. It felt good against the Vegas heat.

  There was no smiling secretary, no magazines, no coffee, no pictures on the wall, awards, certificates, plants, nothing, just a bare room the size of a jail cell. Two uncomfortable chairs waited patiently against the south wall. Bear lumbered over to the closest. His black Ferragamo Loafers fell silently on the plush blue carpet, and each step felt as if he was walking on a sponge. He sat and turned the manila envelope over and over in his hands. It was heavy. He’d never returned this amount to Mr. Smith. Five crisp stacks of fifty, one hundred dollar bills, twenty five thousand dollars, rested snugly inside.

  He knew Mr. Smith sat behind one of the three doors. It wasn’t like the man had an actual office in the building. Sure each room had a desk, a couple of chairs, one even had a TV and DVD player. But other than that the rooms were sparse.

  Bear considered the amount in the envelope. It was a lot, but he’d started making more money. He was becoming a player just like he’d always hoped. Yes, he didn’t like borrowing from or repaying Mr. Smith, but it was just a means to an end, a way for Bear to cash in when the going was good. He did recognize though that he’d been a customer of Mr. Smith’s for nine months now and the end wasn’t in sight. He knew one day he’d break out, but he remembered the words of his buddy Marshall, except when you don’t win, Bear.

  The door on the north wall creaked open, interrupting his contemplation of Marshall’s unsettling observation. A bald head poked through the opening and hard eyes pierced Bear’s skin. “We’re ready for you now Teddy Bear,” Dean said.

  The sons of bitches Eck and Dean always called him Teddy Bear, and it irked him to no end. He wanted to jump on the smug bastard’s head and pummel him, but the stories of desert killings put a stop to those thoughts, instead he said, “Yes sir, Mr. Dean.”

  Dean silently followed Bear into the office. Mr. Smith sat behind the desk in a sharp Armani button down shirt that surely rivaled Bear’s Italian shoes in cost. The top two buttons were unclasped and wisps of his gray chest hair spilled out. He was reviewing a file, of what Bear had no idea, and without taking his eyes off his work he said, “Sit down Mr. Haynes...please.”

  Bear sat in a wooden chair and Dean moved over to the opposite wall. He slid into a seat next to his Pulp Fiction partner Eck.

  “I take it you have my money?”

  “Yes Mr. Smith, all twenty-five thousand.”

  Finally, the man raised his eyes to meet Bear’s, “Good, you’re a good customer Mr. Haynes.”

  “Thank you Mr. Smith, I believe you’re very fair in your dealings.”

  “Yes, I am. Now enough of the stroking each other, I wanted to run a proposition by you.”

  Chapter 25

  Two new movies in hand, Bretten and Brooke made their way back into the now full-fledged starless night. They couldn’t see them, but the gray clouds swelled with moisture, ready to burst onto the flat plains at any minute.

  “There was nowhere else for me to go, and Scott was nice enough to let me live with them. I mean Scott and Tristan. Tristan was in the fifth grade, he’d just turned twelve. And the state was more than happy to allow Scott to take me in. It was a burden off their shoulders.

  “I struggled at first, but eventually settled into a new life. Champion Fighters, Scott’s gym, became my home. We lived only a mile away and truthfully I spent most of my time at the gym. I guess I felt safe there, but I never once went into the back alley.

  “It was comfortable for me, and in a matter of months I was begging to train. Scott told me he didn’t think that was a good idea, didn’t think I was old enough. I tried to argue, but he gave me that same look he gives his fighters, the one that says I know I’m right so back off.

  “Tristan and I got along fine. It was kind of nice to have somebody who was like a big brother. And Scott for the most part was a good guy.”

  “What about Tristan’s mom, where was she?”

  “I never knew for sure, but bit by bit put it together. Apparently she suffered through a prolonged illness when Tristan was only one or two years old. Eventually she succumbed to it, although I don’t know exactly what it was.”

  “And you never asked? Weren’t you curious?”

  “I guess, but it wasn’t really my place. Besides, they never pried about my life before that night in the alley. It was like those times in our past never really existed, like a bad dream that we woke up from and forgot.”

  “So still Brooke, I don’t get it. What happened with you and Scott?”

  “The bad dream wasn’t completely forgotten though because Scott drank too much and had serious mood swings. One day he’d be engaging, fun to be around, and the next he’d be distant, would seem mad at the world. I learned to read him and stay away from him when he was in one of those crappy moods.

  “But that wasn’t the real issue. He didn’t let me train when I was nine, and he continued to not let me train. He was so overprotective, it bordered on slavery. I worked at the gym, busted my ass for the place because it was all I had.

  “I was sixteen and Tristan went off to the University of Kansas on a wrestling scholarship. I think he saw that it was hard on me being locked away from the world, but he always sided with his dad if I brought it up. Then he left and it was just Scott and me. I went from the gym to school to the gym to home. That’s how I had lived for six years and it was all I really knew. I wanted to get out, have more friends, date, but Scott was so overbearing. I mean I loved him for saving and protecting me, but it was hell being a teenager with him.”

  “That really does suck.” Bretten interjected. “With nowhere else to go it had to feel like a prison. And you never got to train like you wanted?”

  “Not until Josh Turner,” Brooke said as she used her thumb to wipe a smudge off of Kevin James’ latest comedy.

  “Josh Turner, what do you mean?”

  “He was 17 and already a purple belt. One night he forgot his wal
let and came back after class. I was cleaning the gym and getting ready to shut it down. We started talking and I had always liked him, but was shy around guys. I’d never had a relationship because Scott wouldn’t allow it. I could tell Josh liked me, but I knew I could never tell Scott.

  “He started coming to the gym whenever nobody else was around. We talked a lot and he even started teaching me some jiu jitsu. It was great for a while, but it seems all good things have to end.”

  Chapter 26

  The cool office air seemed to drop another couple degrees as a chill licked Bear’s spine and slipped around his neck. He rubbed his wet palms on his pants and stared at Mr. Smith as he considered his reply. “A proposition, what did you have in mind sir?”

  “Mr. Haynes, in the world as it is today, gaining information which others don’t have is a sure fire way to make money...a lot of money.”

  “I’m all for making money, but I don’t follow. How can I help you gain information?”

  “Ah come on. You know things that other people do not.”

  “I do? Like what?”

  Mr. Smith smirked like a child who knew an answer his friends did not. “Are you not an agent to cagefighters? Do you not know more about their health, injuries, and other important information than the general public?”

  “Yes, I guess I do.”

  “Sure you do. I can’t believe you haven’t considered it yet. You gamble on football, basketball, boxing, the horses, and damn near everything else, but you’ve never dipped into mixed martial arts, the sport you know the most about.”

  “I guess I’ve just always considered it to be unethical, maybe illegal, to gamble on the sport. I’m sure I could get in trouble for it with the state athletic commissions because it would create concern about fight fixing and what not.”

  Mr. Smith chuckled. “You’re a funny guy...unethical, like you’re filled with ethics. That’s classic.”

  The man’s words stabbed into Bear’s side. He wasn’t joking, but wasn’t about to tell Mr. Smith.

  “Well in reality Mr. Haynes you most likely would eventually get in trouble for gambling on the sport and you’d get in trouble for giving inside information as well, but look around, who’s going to know?” Mr. Smith gestured to the empty office.

  “So you want me to give you information on upcoming fights?”

  “Exactly, you give me what I need to know to make a lot of money and I will cut you in for ten percent on each win.”

  Teddy “Bear” Haynes chewed over the proposition. The thought of going into this type of arrangement both scared and exhilarated him. His whole life he just wanted to belong, to be part of something exciting. Now this man, who had millions of dollars, was asking him for help. He started running the numbers in his head. This could be a lucrative deal. Mr. Smith most likely bet big money. Besides it was just a little bit of information, nothing more, and how could he tell the man no? He might end up in the desert on a video if he did that. Maybe this was his own little jackpot.

  “Let me make sure I understand. I’m going to give you inside information on upcoming fights. You’re going to place bets, and when my information pays out you will give me ten percent of the earnings.”

  “That sounds about right Mr. Haynes.”

  “Then you can count me in. I’ll do it.”

  “And of course you will also pay ten percent of the bets on the wrong picks.”

  “Oh...yeah, I see.” Bear reluctantly nodded his head.

  “You have to be invested monetarily in some way. If not how could I trust you’d provide me with the best information? You understand that right?”

  Bear hadn’t understood that. The fact that he’d have to fork over money too added a whole new side to the equation. Maybe it was more risky now, but still it was a good deal. Besides, he was hungry for more money than he was making. “Sure, that’s only fair,” he said, even though he wasn’t so sure.

  Mr. Smith leaned over the desk and stuck out his hand. Bear realized the handshake was more binding than any legal contract. He wiped his palm on his pants again, reached out and clasped the hand. He hoped his face hid his tumultuous thoughts...excitement, fear, confidence, uncertainty, all were there and jockeyed for position in the forefront of his churning brain.

  Both men settled back into their chairs. “So partner, any information out there right now,” Mr. Smith said. “Anything I should know about?”

  The question caught Bear off guard. He didn’t exactly think he’d be put on the spot ten seconds after making the deal. He fumbled for a response, and then his new future star client Bretten Maris came to mind. “I recently signed a young kid who is fighting on short notice for the SRV Fights welterweight title in a few days. He was a late replacement, and is fighting a guy with a ton of experience so the line went off at my fighter as an eight to one underdog.”

  “Is this other guy hurt?”

  “Not that I’m aware.”

  “Well then why are you telling me about this fight? You want me to gamble on a more than likely bias hunch that your fighter will pull off the upset?”

  “Uh, well sir I think it’s more than a hunch. I’ve talked to his coach and he believes the kid has a good chance, and I gotta tell you he is young, smart, and hungry.”

  “So based on that you think it’s a go?”

  “I know that if I was betting on it Mr. Smith I’d be willing to take Maris at even money, but you could win eight times that. Plus the guy he is fighting, Adrian Davis, has been training for a different style of fighter. Maris is stronger and will push the pace.”

  “This isn’t quite what I had in mind Mr. Haynes, and I don’t think you are exactly the smartest gambler, but you have been an upstanding client so I’m going to give you a chance to prove your worth. I’ll put twenty-five thousand on this Maris kid. He wins you can collect your ten percent of the two hundred thousand, if he loses you owe twenty five hundred.”

  Bear swallowed hard and nodded. That was a huge chunk of money to bet with no solid information other than knowing the fighter better than most. “Okay sir, I hope we will not be disappointed. I think Maris can win.”

  “I understand we can’t win them all, but I hope we won’t be disappointed either, because I won’t be able to take too many disappointments before I start looking to dissolve this partnership.”

  His gaze shifted over Bear’s shoulder toward Eck and Dean who’d sat impassively throughout the whole meeting. They, just like Bear, knew exactly what dissolve this partnership meant, and he didn’t have to turn around to know they were both smiling.

  “It’s settled then Mr. Haynes. I need to get back to work. Dean will see you out. Oh, and good luck partner.”

  Bears throat was dry once again. He swallowed hard. “Thank you sir, you too.”

  Outside, just before climbing into his jeep, he stepped on the line of tar. Now the Vegas heat had made it a little sticky. He pulled the door shut and took a deep breath.

  Chapter 27

  Bretten and Brooke rounded the corner, their house now in sight. A chunk of the sidewalk was missing and kids had used chalk to draw pictures around it. Brooke sidestepped the hole and the drawings, and continued. “There had been times when Scott almost caught us. Like I said, he went out drinking with his buddies quite a bit and during these times he almost never came back to the gym. Sometimes he did though and once Josh had to scramble into hiding. I remember how hard my heart was pounding as Scott talked to me. Luckily he was a little bit drunk and didn’t suspect anything.”

  “What do you think he would have done if he found out?” Bretten asked.

  “He did find out. One Saturday night Scott didn’t come in to teach class. He did that from time to time, just went off and drank the world away. We had an evening sparring class, something along the lines of Whit’s Friday night sparring sessions except dialed down a couple notches. Afterward, Josh stayed behind and we were on the couch talking and making out when Scott came barreling through the front d
oor.

  “There was no time for Josh to go anywhere and Scott went absolutely psycho. He kicked Josh out of the gym right there and called me all kinds of names. He said, ‘You disrespectful bitch. Going behind my back when I’ve done everything I can to protect you.’ He was so mad. I bolted out the back door and down the alley. It was the first time I’d been back there since I was nine years old.”

  Bretten and Brooke had stopped walking. They stood underneath the branches of an Oak Tree. “Did you talk to him later, try to patch things up?”

  “Yeah I talked to him the next day. I told him I was sorry and tried to explain how I needed to have a chance to grow up. I was just a few months away from graduating high school and I’d be going to college soon anyway. He didn’t want to hear any of it. He seemed so broken, so old. Finally he said, ‘Go ahead, have your freedom. Get your stuff and get out.’

  “Just like that I was on my own. I moved in with Josh and finished out high school. That was fine, but something was different with our relationship. Now it was okay for us to be together, and that seemed to bother him. He just wasn’t the guy I thought I knew, the one who hung out with me at the gym and taught me jiu jitsu. It seemed like I was a burden.

  “When I graduated he gave me a ride to Benedictine University and drove off with promises to keep in touch, but as his car pulled away I knew I was alone again.”

  “So you never made up with Scott? What about Tristan?”

  “I tried talking with Scott a couple times, but we were too far apart. He hated what I did and I hated that he saved me and then took away my teenage years. Tristan sided with his dad and I expected that, but it still hurt.

  “I totally rebelled against the previous nine years by first partying, and then training my ass off. I wanted to be tough and independent, wanted to have to rely on nobody. After two years I had won a few amateur fights and decided to leave college to become a fighter. This is when Tristan and I started talking again. He fought too, and as you know we run in pretty tight circles.