Takedown (A Fighting Love novel Book 3)

by Nikki Ash

  While I don’t regret the divorce and know it was for the best, my fairy tale that I thought would occur—like my mom’s—has yet to happen. At first, I focused my energy on work and Alec. I told myself when the right guy came along I would know it. But life got busy and prince charming never showed up on my doorstep, so here I am, twenty-seven, single, and on a dating site called Plenty of Fish.

  “Kids, go play nicely. The pizza will be here soon,” Tristan says with the patience of a damn saint, and the kids run back down the hall to Alec’s room.

  “So, have you gotten any bites?” Charlie asks again, and I swear to all that’s holy she and I are going to have a conversation once Tristan and Mason leave.

  “What are ‘bites?’” Tristan inquires.

  “A dating site,” Charlie informs him. “Plenty of Fish. I helped Mila fill out her profile information.”

  “Wait a second!” Mason throws his head back in laughter. “You’re on a dating site called Plenty of Fish?”

  Tristan chuckles, and I glare at Charlie, who slaps Tristan on his chest. “Sorry but c’mon, the name…”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Charlie rolls her eyes. “Mason uses the analogy that he’s going fishing when he’s going out with a woman so Lexi doesn’t know what they’re talking about.”

  “Of course he does,” I mutter, silently noting to cancel my membership tonight.

  “This is awesome!” Mason laughs, looking at his phone. “An entire dating site dedicated to fishing for women. I’m signing up!”

  I groan, my face dropping into my hands.

  “Okay, let’s see here. My criteria. Hmm…” He looks at me. “What’s your criteria?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I snap, which of course, only causes him to grin.

  “I’ll just look you up.” He shrugs.

  I jump out of my seat to grab the phone from his hand, but he senses that I’m moving in and jumps out of his seat as well.

  “Let’s see here,” he starts.

  “Get out of my profile!” I yell, but Mason ignores me.

  “Twenty-seven-year-old single mom looking for forever. I am not interested in one night stands or sex before marriage, so please don’t message me if you are.” He puts his phone down, his one brow quirked up. “Damn, Mila, and that’s just the beginning. When was the last time you even got laid? You might as well have a ‘don’t touch me, I’m off limits’ sign attached to your forehead.”

  Completely mortified, I give up trying to grab his phone. “I need to go to the bathroom.” I haul ass to my bedroom and close the door. I should know by now the way Mason is. He says whatever he wants and doesn’t care what people think. He’s a jokester and takes nothing seriously.

  The fact is, even though Mason is a complete ass, he’s not off-base. I haven’t had sex since Gavin and I split up over four years ago. We separated because I didn’t want to settle, and I wanted what my mom and stepdad had. The problem was, in order to have that, I actually had to meet the one, and so far he hasn’t crossed my path. I refuse to have sex with just any guy. I’m not knocking those who choose to, but I’m afraid a one-night stand will turn into two, then three, and before I know it, I’ll be giving my goods away with no promise of forever. Sex is okay…but if it’s always like it was with my ex-husband, it’s not worth sleeping around instead of finding the guy I can spend my life with.

  “Mila,” Charlie says through the door. “Can I come in?”

  I unlock the door, and she enters the bathroom, closing the door behind her. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up in front of Mason. I wasn’t thinking.” She gives me a hug and I know she would never do something to hurt me on purpose. Charlie spent many years in a marriage where she was physically and emotionally abused. She is one of the sweetest, most kind-hearted woman I have ever met.

  “It’s okay. I shouldn’t let Mason get to me.”

  “Well, just so you know, Mason is gone.” She rolls her eyes. “He said something about catching his own fish and left.”

  “Ladies, pizza is here,” Tristan calls out, and we join him for dinner.

  Two

  Mason

  “Mason, are you listening to me?”

  I’m sitting at dinner with Rochelle…or is it Raquel? Maybe Rachel? Fuck, I’m not sure. It’s something with an R. But to be on the safe side, I make a mental note not to attempt to say her name. I would rather be anywhere but here, but she insisted on dinner before bed, so here I am, listening to her drone on about her sorority. I really need to double check age in the future. Sure, she’s a senior in college so she’s definitely of legal age, but the younger ones seem to be clingier.

  “Yeah,” is all I need to say for her to continue talking. My brain drowns out her voice when my phone goes off indicating I have a notification. When I check it, not even caring what she is saying, I notice it’s from Plenty of Fish. Earlier, when we were all at Mila’s house, she mentioned being on the dating site. I shouldn’t have made fun of her, but I couldn’t help it. What almost thirty-year old refuses to have sex before marriage? What if she never gets married again? She’s already had one failed marriage. Maybe that’s why it failed…because he sucked in bed and she didn’t know it until they were married.

  I click the notification and see Mila has updated her profile. There’s a new picture on it and she looks fucking gorgeous. After I messed with her and she got upset and ran away, I finished the sign-up process. I’m all about getting some fishing in. Catch and release is my motto, and I’m not the least bit ashamed. After all, no fish are hurt in the process. They want to be caught and they understand full and well, I’m not fishing for keeps. They will be thrown back once we’ve had our fun.

  “Mason!” she yells, getting my attention. I really need to figure out what her name is.

  “Yeah, I agree,” I say, because nine times out of ten, agreeing with a woman is all you need to do.

  “You agree?” she huffs. Shit! This was probably a time when I should’ve disagreed.

  “Maybe…” I draw the word out, unsure.

  “Ugh! Can you please pay attention to me instead of to your phone?” I glance back down at my phone, the app still up, at Mila’s beautiful face. I can tell it was taken tonight. Her chocolate brown hair is down around her shoulders and her face only has a minimal amount of makeup, making her hazel eyes shine even brighter. I can see the pale-yellow top she was wearing earlier that hugged her curves just right.

  My eyes go back to—fuck! What is her damn name?—and I’m no longer feeling it. Pulling a hundred-dollar bill out, I drop it onto the table. “I’m not feeling well. I’ll take you home.”

  She huffs. “Seriously? But we haven’t even had sex yet.” And we won’t be…

  I shrug and stand. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I need to get going. Grab your jacket and I’ll drop you back off at school.” She pouts but it does nothing to me.

  After I drop her off at her sorority house, I go home. Tristan and Lexi are both there as well. She’s sleeping, and he’s watching television.

  “You’re home early,” he says, no judgment in his tone. That’s why he’s my best friend. Tristan just gets me. He accepts me the way I am and lets me be me. I met Tristan almost twelve years ago when I was homeless and looking for a trainer. His dad, Kaden Scott, took me on, and his wife, Tristan’s mom, Ashley, welcomed me into their home. Actually, ‘welcomed’ isn’t the right term. When I refused to move in with them, not wanting to be a burden, she forced me to move in by threatening to not allow Kaden to train me for free unless I did. A few years later, Tristan moved to California to go to college, and shortly after I made the move out here as well. He was living in San Diego but needed a fresh start. We moved to Los Angeles together, and six years and one Lexi Girl later, we’re still living together.

  Only, in a couple months everything will be changing. Tristan met Charlie and they fell in love. I’m happy for him. He deserves happiness after what he’s been through. In March, they’ll be gett
ing married and moving into a new home. They both asked me to move with them, but they need their space. So, in a few months I’ll be in need of a new place to live.

  I plop down on the couch next to Tristan. “The woman wasn’t my type, so I let her go.” Tristan chuckles, shaking his head.

  “You upset Mila.” In other words, ‘Charlie is making me talk to you. You need to apologize.’

  “She’s always upset with me.” I shrug. “Nothing new.” In other words, ‘I’ll apologize when I see her so you’re not in the doghouse.’

  “True.” ‘Thanks.’ And the conversation is over. Because we’re men. We say what we need to say and move forward.

  After watching crappy television for a little while, Tristan’s phone rings and he excuses himself. Not being able to help myself—call it morbid curiosity—I open the dating app and click on my profile. I type in some bullshit description about wanting to take long walks on the beach and that I’m looking for someone to talk to, in order to complete my sign up. Then I click on Mila’s name and read through her entire profile.

  Twenty-seven-year-old single mom looking for forever. I am not interested in one night stands or sex before marriage, so please don’t message me if you are. I am looking for a man who would like to one day settle down. I am a full-time nurse and I love my job. I want someone to go to the beach with. Someone who will enjoy relaxing in the sand next to me while I read. Someone who will enjoy hanging out with me and my son, and not just because he thinks it will make me happy. My favorite food is fondue. I want someone to watch cheesy movies with and who will take me on picnics in the park. I am looking for a man who is employed but not married to his job. No smokers please. I was married once and we grew apart. I won’t settle ever again. I am looking for romance (romance is not dead and I refuse to believe it is). I’m looking for a man to share my life with. If you are interested, please message me.

  Edited to add: No d*ck pics please. I am NOT looking for sex.

  Her bio is so open and out there. She lays herself out on the line, completely bare for the world to see. It’s obvious she thinks she knows what she wants, but does she even realize, with criteria like that, she’s never going to find anyone? Who the hell could ever live up to all of those expectations?

  And what the fuck is fondue?

  I lift my shirt up and snap a picture of my abs then upload it to my profile. Then I click on Mila’s name and shoot her a message.

  GetHooked: Hey there, I saw your picture and want to tell you that you’re gorgeous.

  I look up fondue and find out it’s some type of food, like melted cheese or some shit.

  GetHooked: I would love to take you out for fondue.

  I refresh the screen a few times and the third time it shows she’s on. A few minutes later I get a reply.

  Looking4Love: Thank you. Your pic is very nice as well. Is that really your body? I didn’t see one of your face.

  I notice she ignored my offer to take her out.

  GetHooked: It is my body. Maybe once you’ve earned it, I’ll send you a picture of my face ;) So, it says you enjoy going to the beach. Do you live near one?

  Looking4Love: I do enjoy the beach! I live in LA, so not too far of a drive. I try to go with my son whenever I’m off work. Sometimes I go when he’s with his dad and I lay out and read. What do you do for a living?

  I chuckle over the fact that she has now ignored my comment about her earning the right to see my face. She seems to pick and choose what she wants to respond to. I go to type back, almost forgetting she doesn’t know me. I can’t say I’m a UFC fighter. She’ll know right away who I am. Instead, I take a page from her book and ignore her question.

  GetHooked: Nice! I enjoy the beach as well. I love anything athletic or outdoors: surfing, running, biking, hiking, boating…I must admit I haven’t read anything since high school. Do you enjoy those romance novels?

  Charlie loves them, and I’ve seen them laying around the condo on several occasions. The covers are usually some shirtless guy or a couple about to fuck. Tristan is constantly making jabs at her, telling her to put the books down so he can give her the real thing.

  Mila responds.

  Looking4Love: Ugh! Just reading that list was exhausting. I think we’re going to have to end this conversation right now so I can go take a nap. LOL j/k kind of…Yes, I love a good romance book. What do you do for fun when you’re not hiking and biking or doing something athletic?

  Ha! Who would’ve known…Mila Sterling actually has a sense of humor.

  GetHooked: I hang out with friends, go to clubs…just the usual single guy stuff. Have you ever met anybody on here?

  Looking4Love: Not yet, but I did from another site. Mostly, guys just want sex. They ignore my profile description and then they’re disappointed when I don’t put out.

  Damn! She doesn’t beat around the bush.

  GetHooked: Saving yourself for someone special?

  Looking4Love: Yes.

  GetHooked: What if he sucks in bed and you don’t know it until it’s too late? Wouldn’t it be best to try out the goods before you purchase the product?

  When the circle that indicates she’s typing doesn’t appear I mentally kick myself in the ass for my response. I shouldn’t have been that forward. She doesn’t know it’s me, so it looks like I’m just a creepy fucker trying to get laid. Then I see the circle appear.

  Looking4Love: I’m not going to give my goods away for free. I’m okay not knowing how the guy is in bed. If he’s the one for me, it won’t matter.

  I chuckle at her response. There are so many ways I can respond to that but for some reason I don’t want to piss her off. I’m enjoying our conversation.

  GetHooked: Understandable. So how will you know the guy is the one?

  She responds, saying she will just know, and for the next few hours we converse back and forth. We keep it light, sticking to topics such as our favorite shows, music, and foods.

  When my phone beeps with an email, I click out of the app to check it. Shit! It’s already after eight in the morning. We’ve been messaging back and forth all night. I click on my inbox and see it’s an email from my attorney, asking me to call him when I get a chance.

  “Mr. Street,” he says by way of greeting.

  “Mr. Lopez.”

  “I just thought you should know your mom has been released this morning.” The first time she was released from jail, I was seventeen and she didn’t want me—said she couldn’t take care of me. After I won my first big fight, I searched for her only to find out she was back in jail once again for prostitution.

  I hired a criminal defense attorney, and he was able to get the illegal solicitation charges dropped. She was released with a few hundred hours of community service. I begged her to let me take care of her but she wasn’t having it. She wouldn’t even let me speak. She asked me not to help her anymore, some bullshit about not wanting me to take care of her. I tried to argue with her, insisted she let me help her, but she hung up on me and disappeared.

  After that, I told the attorney I would pay any time she called him for help. She might not have wanted me to be in her life, but she’s my mom, and there was no way I wouldn’t help her in any way I could. A few years ago, she was put back in jail, but her offence was more serious than the previous ones: drug and weapon trafficking charges. Mr. Lopez couldn’t get her to agree to a plea deal, so she was charged and given a four-year sentence.

  “I appreciate you letting me know. Hopefully she stays out of jail this time.”

  He agrees then says, “There’s something you should know.”

  “Okay.”

  “She asked for your number.” Well, this is news. I told him he could give it to her if she ever asks for it but until today she never has.

  “Thank you for letting me know. I appreciate you keeping me updated.” He tells me if anything changes or occurs he’ll let me know. We hang up, and my phone lights up with a message notification from Mila. When I didn�
�t respond, she wished me a goodnight/morning. I close out of the app without replying. While it was nice to talk with someone for a few hours, nothing has changed. I refuse to be in a relationship. I have absolutely no desire to get married and be responsible for taking care of someone else. It’s a huge commitment, one that most people take too lightly, and oftentimes ends with them failing the person they love.

  My mom struggled every day to take care of me, and she failed miserably. When she was married to my dad, he had a gambling addiction that cost him his job and eventually his life. One night he was drunk and walking home from the dog tracks, he stumbled off the sidewalk and was hit by a car. It was an accident, and he died instantly. My mom didn’t ask for my dad to die, but he did and even from his grave, he failed at taking care of us. He was selfish, probably choosing to spend his money on booze or the slots, and allowed his life insurance policy to lapse.

  As a result, my mom not only lost my dad, but she didn’t get a dime from the policy, and too quickly I became nothing more than a burden to her. I’m not saying people shouldn’t get married or have kids. I’m just saying it’s not for everyone. I don’t want that responsibility. I remember being a kid and wishing for food, and clothes that fit me while my mom sold herself to take care of us. She would cry every damn night wishing for a way out, wishing for someone to help her up. Instead, it was as if she was kicked while she was down, over and over again. My dad gave the initial kick and her piece of shit pimp gave the final one.

  When you refuse to let someone take care of you, you can never be kicked, and when you refuse to take care of someone else, you never have to do any of the kicking. And in my opinion, that’s the only way to live. If my own mother, during her lowest point, doesn’t trust me to take care of her, then that should tell you something.