“You’re back already? I knew it wouldn’t take much to get that boy to see he was an ass.”
I plastered a smile on my face and grabbed my apron off the hook. “Yup, I’m back.”
Bess crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot. “Well, spill, chick. I need to know what that hunk of man did when you gave him the brownies.”
“Well, Tate and Dante ate them.”
Bess held up her hand. “Hold on, did we switch teams here? Are you trying to see if my ménage books are real? Trying to get some two-way kung fu action?”
A laugh escaped my lips, even though I was feeling anything but happy. “No. Kellan wasn’t there, so I gave them to the guys.”
“Well, you should have waited for him to show up.”
I shook my head. “I think I would have been waiting until Monday night. He’s out of town at some karate thing. He went with Roman.”
Bess scowled. “Oh damn, I liked my story better. Maybe you should go after Tate and Dante. You’ve already got them hooked with the cookies and brownies.”
“I can barely get one man, Bess. I think I’ll leave the ménage to your romance books.”
She tsked and started wiping down the counter. “Ain’t nothing wrong with bringing a little romance novel to real life. We all need to find our Prince Charming who can fuck us all night then go out to get donuts in the morning.”
I sighed and grabbed an empty cup. “I’d settle for just finding a guy that wants to be near me.”
Bess tossed the rag into the sink and patted my shoulder. “It’ll come, hon. If all else fails, there is always Frank’s son. I heard he broke up with his internet girlfriend.” Bess snickered and moved toward the door. “Love always wins, Molly. Even in real life.” She raised her hand, waved to me, and disappeared out the door.
Love always win? Phfft. Love was taunting me right now, and I was getting ready to throw in the towel.
All I was winning was a load full of confusion, and a one-way ticket to heartache. Kellan had dropkicked my heart, and I had no way to get back up.
I was down for the count.
**********
Kellan
“He made it to the grands. If he doesn’t, he was robbed.”
Roman and I were sitting at ring fourteen, watching the fourteen to seventeen-year-old black belts compete in creative weapons. This was the age where you could see who was going to be great. Some of these kids had been black belts for close to ten years, and they were only sixteen or seventeen. “I don’t know, man. I think the judges might be leaning towards the first chick that went.”
Roman shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “If they do, they’re ridiculous. She bobbled.”
She had, but she had gone on, and to the untrained eye, you didn’t see it. Now, the judges should be the ones to see it, but if they were looking down at their notepads, they missed the half-second slip. “I agree that he was better, but you know how this shit goes, man. It’s not always about who does it best.” I couldn’t tell you how many times I had put my heart and soul out there, giving it everything I had, and then had the trophy given to a kid who knew the right people. But each time that happened, it made me strive to work even harder so that the next time I went up against them, they wouldn’t have a choice but to give me the trophy.
The seven competitors stood in front of the three judges, waiting for their scores.
The first kid stepped forward. “Third,” Roman mumbled.
With each one who stepped forward, Roman mumbled the place he thought they should get. While he was doing that, I was mentally adding up the scores. “He got it,” I whispered to Roman.
“He damn well better have.”
The judges stood and bowed to the competitors. They started with seventh place, working their way up. The last two standing were the guy and girl who were the best who had competed.
“Takes you back to when you were as good as they were.”
I knew that voice, and I didn’t want to turn around. We both had seen Jim wandering the past day, but we had been able to avoid him. Until now.
Roman and I turned around in our seats to see Jim had sat in the row behind us. “Jim,” I mumbled.
Jim crossed his arms over his chest and propped his feet on the back of my chair. “I have to say, I was rather surprised to see you two here. When you guys left me high and dry, I figured you knew not to show your faces around here anymore.”
“Last I checked, this wasn’t a Cornerstone tournament,” Roman replied. Jim ran three tournaments throughout the year, but regionals weren't part of them. We knew that a Cornerstone tournament was not a place for Powerhouse to be unless we wanted to be treated like shit. But it looked like Jim didn’t care that this wasn’t his tournament.
Jim shrugged. “I’m just here to help keep the integrity of all of the tournaments up. I sure hope you’re not here trying to find sponsors. I’ve let everyone know what kind of people you two are.”
I was sure Jim had gone out of his way to tell anyone who would listen to his side of the story. Which was all bullshit. “I didn’t think the word integrity was in your vocabulary.”
Jim glared at me. He knew not to mess with me. While Roman was the hot headed one who spoke before thinking, he was aware I could destroy him if I wanted to. Jim had royally fucked the four of us over the past years, but we had never publicly said anything. A few perfectly placed words in the right ears could send Jim’s notoriety on the circuit down in flames. “What are you two doing here? Everyone knows you think you’re too good to be here.”
I shook my head and rested my arm on the back of my chair. “And I wonder where they could have gotten that idea from? Plenty of people have walked away from the circuit before, Jim. I don’t know why you took our leaving so hard. Look around, there are hundreds of kids around here who would love to be able to have you as their coach and sponsor.” There were. You couldn’t walk ten feet around here without running into someone who didn’t know who Jim or Cornerstone M.A. were. What they didn’t know was how big of an asshole Jim was to work for. Don’t even get me started on the cut and missing wages all of the time.
Jim’s eyes narrowed. He knew he was reaching the end of his leash before I would rip into him. The difference between Jim and me was, I didn’t give a fuck what people thought about me. I wasn’t here to impress anyone or find some unsuspecting kid to steal money from and pay pennies to win the tournaments. “I don’t need to be looking. I’ve already found what I was looking for.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the back of our chairs. “You just watched her win.”
Of course. I should have known Jim would have his teeth sunk into one of those kids. I was more surprised he hadn’t signed the boy. “She was all right,” Roman agreed. “Although, the boy was flawless. Much better than she was.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Couldn’t find a number significant enough that he would bite on?” Odds are, Jim probably low-balled the kid too much, and the kid went elsewhere. Jim always was a cheap bastard who only cared about lining his own pockets.
When you got on the circuit, you needed a sponsor. There was no other way to afford all of the travel and expenses. That was where Jim came in, throwing around money, and then he thought he owned you. Jim had pushed us to win, and when we brought home the big cash prize, he would take his more than generous cut, claiming he had made us.
“Gotta look for the diamond in the rough, boys. Girls kicking ass are all the rage right now. I’m already in talks to have her in a movie.”
And this was the reason why people gravitated to Jim. He had so many connections to movies and stunt work that it was understandable people would be blinded when they first met him. It was after all the new and shiny wore off that you realize he’s screwing you over. Roman and Dante had done stunt work a handful of times, but barely made pennies when everything was said and done. “And I bet you’re taking care of all of the contracts for her too, aren't ya, Jimmy?” Roman sn
eered.
Jim’s face turned red, and he grunted. He hated when he was called anything but Jim. It used to be Roman’s game to call him anything else to rile him up. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
I shook my head and turned back around. Jim was still a piece of work. I felt sorry for whoever fell for his line of bullshit.
“But it looks like you put your money on the wrong horse, Jimbo,” Roman said, laughing. “Looks like your girl didn’t take first.”
The girl looked crestfallen, and her arms hung heavily at her side. She wasn’t bad at all; she just wasn’t up to par with the boy. She had definite potential, but she had the wrong coach on her side. Jim was going to sell her being a girl, more than the fact she was a kick-ass martial artist. “Pfft,” Jim scoffed. “This tournament ain’t nothing. Besides, she still gets a hefty amount of points in the rankings. I’m not worried one bit.”
Jim was right, to a point. You didn’t need to always get first to take home first overall, but it sure boosted one's confidence if they did. Jim stood up, his massive girth and staggering height looming over us. “You might want to take some notes on how to make a superstar, boys, if you plan on bringing your rinky-dink Powerhouse to play at the tournaments anytime soon.” A smirk touched his lips. “Cornerstone always comes to win.” He lumbered over to the girl and put his arm around her shoulder. Her mother was there and instantly started talking off Jim’s ear. They disappeared into the crowd leaving the ring.
“You as surprised as I am that she lost with Jim being her coach?” Roman asked.
I shrugged and crossed my ankles. “Yes and no. I think Jim has some pull, but when they are that far apart in skill, there is no way they could give her first without people wondering what in the hell is going on.” Jim rigged shit. It was always rumored on the circuit but never verified.
I stood up and moved to the ring. “Hey, where you going?” Roman called as he followed me.
“Someone needs to congratulate the kid,” I replied over my shoulder.
He was looking down at the card with a big one on it that the judges had given him.
“Good job, man,” I boomed as I clapped him on the shoulder. “That was pretty fucking tight out there.”
The boy tipped his face up, and his eyes went wide as he realized who I was. “Holy crap,” he proclaimed. “You’re Kellan Wright.” He turned to Roman, and his jaw dropped. “And you’re Roman Yeck.”
Roman held his hand out. “I sure am,” he smirked. “And what’s your name, kid?”
The kid dropped his card and grabbed Roman’s hand. “I’m Ryker. I used to watch you compete all of the time. I still watch all of your videos on YouTube. You handle a bo staff like no one I’ve ever seen before.”
Roman brushed off the compliment. As much as he liked being the center of attention, he never let it go to his head. “I don’t know about that. The way I saw you spinning the shit out of that bo puts you in equal competition with me. How old are you?”
I bent over to pick up the kid’s card. He may be star struck now meeting Roman and me, but he was going to want this card if he wanted to claim his big ass trophy.
“I just turned sixteen.”
“Right on. What dojo do you practice under?”
“Uh, right now, I don’t have one. I just moved here a couple of months ago.”
Roman looked over at me. He was thinking the same exact thing I was. This kid needed to be part of Powerhouse. “You ever heard of Powerhouse? We’re a new dojo, but we’ve hit the ground running. We’re always looking for new students.”
Ryker’s eyes darted to the floor, and he shook his head. “Um, yeah, I’ve heard of it.”
“Why don’t you come in and see if you like it?” I suggested.
He shook his head and grabbed the card out of my hand. “As much as I’d like to, I can’t.”
“Why not?” Roman demanded. He wanted this kid at Powerhouse as much as I did.
“I moved here to live with my aunt. She doesn’t have the money for me to continue doing karate. Thanks anyway,” he mumbled.
Right there was the reason why a lot of kids stopped lessons. They weren’t cheap. “Don’t worry about that right now. Just come in, and we’ll see where it goes.” If anything, we could always have Ryker help out with classes, and in return, he could practice under Powerhouse.
His head snapped up, and his eyes darted between Roman and me. “Are you serious? I really mean it when I say I can’t afford it. I asked my aunt if I got a job and paid for half if I could still do lessons, and she said she couldn’t afford that.”
Roman put his hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, kid. Just come in when you can, and we’ll talk.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” he mumbled.
“Believe it, kid,” I said, assuring him.
“Go get your trophy, and we’ll see you around,” Roman added.
Ryker stumbled away, a huge grin on his face. “Thank you so much, Mr. Wright and Mr. Yeck,” he yelled. “Um, I’ll have to talk to my aunt. It’ll probably take a week to convince her.”
“No worries, just come when you can,” I replied. He waved and turned around.
“Oh shit,” I mumbled. “Hey, kid! Where do you live?” People came from all over to compete in tournaments. The kid could live on the other side of the state.
“Falls City! I walk by Powerhouse every day on my way to school,” Ryker shouted over his shoulder. Well, if that wasn’t a small world.
I lost sight of Ryker in the crowd, and when Roman turned his head, a huge grin spread across his lips. “Tell me you didn’t plan that shit.”
It wasn’t exactly my intention to invite him to Powerhouse, but I wasn’t opposed to it. “Hey, I can’t help it that we were more impressive to him than Jim was.”
Roman scoffed. “Jim probably wanted him to pay a shit ton just to step into Cornerstone.”
We weaved through the crowd, stopping here and there to watch the competitors. I grabbed a chair in the back row by the main stage and pulled my phone out.
“Checking in with Tate and Dante?” Roman asked. He grabbed the chair next to me, flipped it around, and straddled it.
There weren’t any messages from them, and I was actually surprised. I expected at least one phone call and a couple of text messages. I swiped across Dante’s name and put the phone to my ear. It went directly to voicemail. “Hey, it’s Kellan. I was just checking in to see how classes went today. Hit me back when you get the chance.”
I called Tate with the same result.
“Neither of them answered?” Roman asked.
I shoved my phone in my pocket and looked at the stage. Twenty-five and up black belt traditional forms were running, and I knew each and every guy up there on stage. They had all been my competition before. “I’m sure they’re busy doing private lessons. They had a full afternoon of them.”
“I’m sure that’s what's going on.”
I twisted my head around to look at him. “What does that mean?”
“It could mean they’re over at the cafe eating Molly’s cookies.”
I growled and elbowed him in the side. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Not much you can do about it, man. You walked away from Molly. Can’t really blame Tate or Dante if they go after her now. You know how Dante is about her cookies.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Talk about Molly’s fucking cookies one more time, and I’ll beat the shit out of you right here.”
Roman chuckled and crossed his arms over her chest. “As much as I’d like to see you try, I think you need to think about what you just said.” He stood up and looked down at me. “You don’t say that shit about a chick you don’t care about.” Roman wandered over to the next ring, and I turned back to the main stage.
So what if I didn’t want Dante or Tate dating Molly. Or even Gavin. That didn’t mean a damn thing.
Molly could date whoever she wanted.
I just di
dn’t want to know about it, and if she dated any of my friends or Gavin, I was going to beat the shit out of them.
Easy as that. Didn’t mean a damn thing.
I took a deep breath and tried to push her out of my mind. I had gone most of the morning not thinking about her. But now that Roman had mentioned Dante and Tate being only a short walk away from her, it was bugging the fucking shit out of me.
I called Dante one more time and waited for the beep of his voicemail. “Listen, fucker. You better stay far away from Molly. No one gets her cookies but me.” I punched the end button and clutched the phone in my hand.
There, that solved that.
Now I just looked like a possessive asshole to a chick I had no right to feel that way about.
“Smooth, Kellan,” I mumbled.
I was so fucked.
**********
Molly
“Go.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Now.”
“No.”
Sage slammed the tray of cookies on the counter and propped her hands on her hips. “Get your ass moving, before I drag you by your ponytail over there.”
“This isn’t really a side of you I like,” I muttered.
“Well, it’s a good thing we’re not talking about me right now. We are talking about you and Kung Fu Hottie. I’m still hurt that you didn’t call and tell me how the meeting went.”
I rolled my eyes. “Reliving that night was not something I wanted to do.”
“Or, how you went over there Saturday.”
I was going to kill Bess. As soon as Sage walked in the door, Bess had been right behind her, ready to tell her about my crash and burn weekend. “You’re not allowed to talk to Bess anymore.”
Bess cackled from the corner. “Good luck with that one, sweetheart,” she called.
“Take off the apron, fluff up your hair, and get your ass over there.”
I giggled and touched my head. “What? Fluff up my hair? Do you know who you are talking to, Sage? I don’t fluff.” Ponytail matted to my head, that was what I did. Everyday.
Dropkick My Heart: Powerhouse M.A. Series Page 17
