by Tia Lewis
Shifting my stance, I found myself oddly curious about the going ons in the gym. Maybe Paul could give me some insider tips about MMA.
I watched as a figure appeared between the cages, stalking toward me like a lamb going to slaughter. He was dressed down, in a pair of jeans that should be illegal and a t-shirt that left little doubt that he was in top shape. I thought about the tattoo he had shown me the other night at the bar, and my breath left my chest, wondering if he would show it to me again if I asked. I wanted to do more than just see it. I wanted to touch it. I wanted to touch him. Oh, god. This could not be happening now.
Paul reached me, and I forced a smile, hoping that my face wasn’t red from my dirty thoughts about him. “Hey. Are you ready?”
“Let’s get this over with.”
Okay, so he wasn’t happy to see me. I doubted he had even given me much thought like I had him and I felt like an idiot. I was a check to him, an annoying check at that. There would be no reason for him to look at me in any other way. The thought was depressing. “Great,” I said brightly. “My car is out front.”
Without waiting for him to respond, I turned quickly to the door, pushing it open and walking to my car, pressing the unlock button before climbing in, feeling my hands tremble slightly as he opened the passenger side door and climbed in. Suddenly, my car seemed way too small with him next to me. “Um, if you need to adjust the seat, feel free.”
He didn’t say anything, and I pulled out onto the street, both hands on the steering wheel. The ride over to the studio was awkwardly silent, and as I put the car in park, I forced myself to look over at him. Paul had put on a pair of shades at some point, his eyes hidden from my gaze. “I really appreciate your time today. This shouldn’t take too long.”
He shrugged and climbed out, closing the door before I let out a deep breath, frustrated. I wanted this to be an enjoyable experience for him, something that at the end of his time, he would see that not only did he enjoy helping out the people who would benefit from the money we were going to raise, but that he had fun. I just didn’t know what to do to make him get to that point.
I stepped out the car and walked over to the sidewalk, noticing that he was now on the phone, his face full of emotion. “Well tell me what they said then? What do you mean they want to see us? That’s all they gave you?”
My ears perked up. I had googled him relentlessly last night after I couldn’t sleep, but found absolutely nothing to the effect that he was dating anyone. It seemed he was an intensely private person and google didn’t find him exciting. I wish that were the case for me. There were many photos online that I wished I could just erase.
“No, I’m not mad at you. Tomorrow? Yeah, I can be there.”
He hung up, and I looked over at him. “Everything okay?”
He tucked his phone into his back pocket and ran a hand through his hair, the expression on his face going stone cold. “Yeah, it’s fine. Let’s get this over with.”
Something was up, but I was probably the last person he wanted to tell. “Yep, okay we can do that.”
I walked into the studio and gave my name, refusing to look in Paul’s direction. This was business. All I needed for him to do was be present. I didn’t care about his personal life. I didn’t care that he didn’t like me.
“Sarah!”
I looked over to see Antonio walking toward me, some of the stress easing away as he embraced me. “Hi, dear. It’s so good to see you.” Antonio was one of the best photographers in Chicago and frequently worked with me on my charity events. He was very passionate about giving back, and I enjoyed his company.
“And you,” he said, pulling back. “What have you brought me today? Oh, my. Am I shooting him?”
I gave him a grin and walked him over to Paul, who was eyeing the man. “Paul, this is Antonio. Antonio, this is Paul. He is going to be my fighter for the charity match.”
Antonio’s eyes widened as he gave Paul a once over. “This is going to be a treat, a treat indeed. Come on back. I have an idea.”
I gave Paul a tentative smile as we followed Antonio to a room draped in white, with expensive looking equipment already in place. The photographer turned toward us, his perfectly manicured eyebrows arching toward Paul. “Alright you hunk of a man, off with the shirt.”
I rolled my eyes, knowing that Antonio was just trying to get under Paul’s skin. Antonio was happily married to Mario, who ran a dance studio not far from here.
“What?”
I turned toward Paul, hoping that the angry look was because he was offended by what Antonio said. “We need some, um, good shots. If you don’t mind.”
He gave me a look, but I was glad when he pulled off his shirt, for literally like a second. The rest of the full minute was spent reminding myself to breathe as I took in his muscular chest and cut abs, his skin a golden brown with not one mark on it save the tattoo on his side. It was everything I had hoped for, and I would have given him another fifty grand to just do it all over again. He was perfect.
“Oh, my lord, I think I need a cold beverage,” Antonio said, breaking the moment. “Go on over there. I will be right back.”
“Is he gay?” Paul asked quietly as Antonio left the room.
I nodded, suppressing the urge to reach out and touch his skin. “Very much so. Don’t mind him. He’s already taken.”
Paul laid his shirt on the chair that was in the corner, and I walked over, biting my lip as he started to flex his arms. “All you have to do is stand there. Antonio is very good at what he does, and your pictures will be phenomenal.”
“Got it,” he said, shaking out his arms. I reached up impulsively and grabbed the sunglasses off his head, our eyes catching as I did so. His mouth tightened, and I swallowed hard, wondering just how one person could be so darn perfect from head to toe, even with the shadow of a beard on his strong jaw. God had surely blessed Paul Watts in more ways than one. “You can’t take pictures with them on your head,” I offered up, dropping his glasses on the chair next to his shirt. I was nervous but tried my best not to show it to him. If he only knew how many times he ran through my mind daily, he would have me locked up for stalking. I couldn’t help it, no matter how much I wanted to.
“Thanks,” he said softly. I looked up at him and swore that his eyes were searching mine. I was thinking too much into this. He didn’t even like me. I was using him.
“Alright my hunky fighter, time to shoot!”
The moment was broken, and the scowl reappeared on Paul’s face as he turned away, cracking his knuckles as Antonio pointed toward the white backdrop. “Go on. Get your handsome self up there so my camera can do its magic.”
I watched, my arms crossed, as Paul walked up to the backdrop and Antonio gave him some direction. He didn’t need anything, his stare at the camera enough to send a shiver or two down my spine. I wasn’t scared. Oh no, that would be too easy. It was quite the opposite, and I was concerned about how I was going to get through the next few weeks with this guy.
9
Paul
“The treatments are working for now. The side effects of the chemo aren’t anything to be concerned with. Matthew is a strong kid and he will be able to handle them.”
I wiped a hand over my face as the doctor droned on about Matt’s treatment, feeling drained and exhausted. I hadn’t slept particularly great the night before, unable to get my mind to shut down. Now, at nine in the morning, the last thing I wanted to do was be sitting in the doctor’s office, but this was important.
“So, he will be able to continue on these treatments?” my mom asked, clutching the straps of her purse in her hands. Only I could see the slight tremble of them, wondering if she had taken any meds this morning.
The doctor nodded. “Of course. Now there is another treatment we could try that would lessen the side effects and potentially keep the cancer localized.”
“Another treatment?” I asked, puzzled. We had done the chemo and steroid thing, the cancer sma
ll enough to not progress to radiation yet.
“It’s a form of radiation that’s just out of the clinical research trial stage. So far, the patients like Matthew have responded to it fairly well.”
“We have to do it then,” my mom said immediately, looking at me with pleading eyes. “If it worked for them, it will work for Matthew.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, hoping that she was right. If his cancer spread, we would lose him, and I would go fucking crazy. This was my little brother. “We’ll do it.”
“Great,” the doctor said with a smile. “I’ll get the receptionist to sign you up for the next slot. We’ll need to go over the potential complications.”
“Thank you, doctor,” my mom said as he walked out of the room before turning toward me. “This is wonderful. He does this, and we will have him back just like old times.”
I gave her a tight smile, a little more cautious than she was being about the treatment. I wouldn’t believe it until the cancer was gone. We walked out of the room and down to the receptionist, who greeted us with a friendly smile. “Matthew is out in the waiting room. I do have to tell you that we will need five thousand for the first visit.”
“F-five thousand?” my mom stammered, looking at me with wide eyes. “Whatever for?”
“The treatment medication,” the receptionist frowned, looking down at her paper. “Are you not going to sign up for the new trial drug?”
“Is that a one-time fee?” I asked. Five grand? I had just used the first payment that Sarah had gifted me to pay off the mounting medical bills that had graced my table for the last six months. Both Ma's and my accounts had been drained for months attempting to keep up with the medications and basic living expenses.
The receptionist gave us both a small smile. “Unfortunately, it’s every visit, and that’s just the medication cost. That does not include the routine medication Matthew will need to fill and the clinic visit itself. Doctor Gaines has scheduled Matthew for 30 visits.”
Holy shit. I was in the wrong fucking business. One hundred fifty thousand dollars for just fucking meds? No one had that kind of money. No wonder people were kicking the bucket left and right.
“Paulie?”
I looked at my mom, whose face had gone pale. She knew what I was hashing out in my own head. That kind of money would take many a fight to even attempt to gather that kind of money. “It’ll be alright,” I said though the words sounded hollow even to my own ears. I couldn’t make this happen immediately, but if I didn’t make it happen at all, Matt could die. That fucking could not happen.
My brother was sitting out in the waiting room when we walked out, and I swallowed the lump in my throat, pasting on a grin so he wouldn’t see the worry on my face. “Hey, dude, ready to go?”
He pulled down his ever-present headphones to land around his neck and nodded. “Everything good?”
I looked over at ma, who was struggling to maintain her composure. “Yeah dude, everything’s good. Let’s go get some food.”
He shot Ma a glance before shrugging and walking ahead of us, Ma grabbing my arm as soon as we were clear of the doctor’s office. “We can’t find that kind of money,” she hissed, our eyes on Matt as he walked toward my car.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said evenly. “I’ll make it happen.”
She let out a sound, but I ignored her, straightening my shoulders. I was going to make it happen one way or another.
My phone started ringing the moment I dropped my mom and Matt back at the apartment, their bellies full with Matt’s favorite burger joint. I had choked down my burger, my mind on the money I was going to have to raise really quickly to carry out this special treatment. I didn’t tell my brother, not wanting to get his hopes up in case there was a chance I couldn’t make it happen for him. There was nothing I wanted more than to have him healed and healed quickly, but the cost, hell I wasn’t so sure I could do that.
Grabbing the vibrating phone, I held it up to my ear. “Yeah.”
“Paul. Hey, it’s Sarah.”
I turned down the street heading back to the gym, not really wanting to talk to her right now. After the photo shoot yesterday I had gotten her to drop me back off, with very few words between us. I had felt like I was being used and though I knew that this was my choice, it didn’t mean I was excited about it. That and I was fucking attracted to Sarah. “What can I do for you?”
“I hate to ask you this because I know you are really busy but I need, I mean, I would like to see you fight before the charity match.”
Her words stung, a major blow to my already wounded manhood. “You don’t think I can fight?”
“No, no it’s not that at all. I want to get Antonio to do some action photos.”
Damn Antonio. I wasn’t unnerved by him because he was gay, just because he was an annoying bastard. A thought crossed my mind, and I grinned despite my dark mood. So they wanted action photos huh? “Come by the gym tomorrow.”
“Really? Thanks so much Paul I really appreciate this.”
I hung up before she could say anything else, swiftly dialing another number. Sarah was going to be in for a treat then. I wanted her to see the real fighting, not the pansy fighting I would be doing for her. I wanted her to be scared, afraid of the gritty world of fighting. Most of all I wanted her to be afraid of me. It was how I had survived all my life. When people were afraid, they didn’t bother you.
“Yeah.”
“Lou.”
“Scorp, what can I do you for?”
I grinned. Lou was one of the best underground fighting promoters, one that I had done fights for in the past. “I need a match.”
“You got it, when you need it by?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Done.”
I hung up, feeling like I should be ashamed I was going to do this to her. She was going to get a taste of something I doubted she had ever seen, another side of me that would send her running for the hills. So why did I feel like I was going to be missing out on something if I did accomplish my task?
Parking my car, I climbed out, grabbing my bag. I needed some serious time in the cage today if I was going to fight tomorrow night. The underground scene was far different than the coordinated matches of the circuit. I wouldn’t know my opponent, though I knew Lou wouldn’t screw me over and give me someone way out of my element. Still, I couldn’t be embarrassed down there. I needed to be on my game.
10
Sarah
I was nervous and such a big liar. I walked into the gym, hoping that Paul wasn’t there to meet me immediately before I could come with the reason that Antonio wasn’t with me. He never was going to be with me in the first place, and he would probably have a fit if he knew that I had shamelessly used him to see Paul again. After looking at his headshots all morning, attempting to pick out the best one for the programs, I had done nothing but thought about him, seeing those rippling muscles and that deep mysteriousness that was Paul Watts. Antonio had done a great job, probably better than he should have. The truth was, I wanted to see Paul in the cage, but I doubted he would just jump right in there if I had only asked. So the action shots had been a split second decision, and poor Antonio was going to be sick today, even if he didn’t know it exactly.
Paul was waiting behind the small counter when I walked through the door, the sun setting behind me. “Hey,” I said, swallowing and hoping he couldn’t see right through my lies. “I’m sorry. Antonio won’t be able to make it. H-he’s sick.”
The look on his face was priceless. “That’s too bad. I was looking forward to seeing him.”
I smiled, mainly because I couldn’t help it. “I’m sure the feeling was mutual. The pictures, they turned out great.”
“Good,” he answered, grabbing a duffel bag that had been sitting on the counter. “Come on; we’re gonna be late.”
“Where are we going?” I asked, confused. There were perfectly good cages behind him, and I just assumed he would do some kind o
f exhibition match with one of the other guys.
He stepped outside and held the door open for me to follow. “I’m signed up to fight tonight.”
“W-what?”
He stopped and turned toward me, irritation in his expression. “I have a fight tonight. I thought you wanted to see me fight.”
“Yes, but.”
“Then come on.”
I tagged along after him, Paul leading me to a beat up four-door car, motioning for me to climb in. Grateful that I had dressed down for the event, I climbed inside. The interior was clean and smelled faintly of his cologne as he slid into the driver seat and threw the bag in the back seat. I waited until we were on our way before I stole a glance at him. He had gotten a haircut recently, though the hint of facial hair was still dusting his strong jawline. He was wearing one of those sleeveless shirts that I had seen him fight in before, his muscular legs peeking out from under a pair of long gym shorts. Idly, I wondered if he was commando under them as well.
“Find what you are looking for?”
My face bloomed with embarrassment, and I looked away, my mouth working but no sound coming out. I swore I heard a chuckle from the driver as he pulled into a parking garage, taking the car up level after level. The sun had set now, darkness surrounding us as the headlights of the car swept from level to level. Paul finally pulled into a parking spot and shut off the engine, the silence all around us. “Care to tell me where we are going now?” I asked, refusing to look at him directly.
“I have two requests.”
I looked at him then. “What?”
He turned toward me, and I could see the whites of his eyes in the dark. “Two requests. Do not bet on me. I don’t like to be blamed for any money you might lose.”
