“Jenny, what are you doing here?” he snarled.
“I know I disobeyed you,” I said, rushing up to him. “But there’s no time for that now. Max, they’re waiting for you out there.”
Max straightened his back and looked past me. “How many?”
“I counted five,” I said.
Max nodded, digesting the information. “Any weapons?”
“One man had a club,” I said. “I’m sure the others had guns.”
“Where are they?”
“There’s a white van out there,” I said. “They’re hiding behind that.”
“Cowards,” Max spat.
I knew what he was thinking, and I couldn’t let him do it. “Max, you can’t fight all of them.”
“I can, Jenny.” He gazed intensely into my eyes. “But not without you.”
Max grabbed a long, wooden stick. He whipped it through the air skillfully, then held it by his side. “I need you to go out there. Distract them.”
“Alone? Max, I can’t. What if something happens?”
“You know how to defend yourself,” Max said.
“No, I don’t. I’m not that good,” I said.
Max approached me, and holding the stick between two hands behind my bottom, pressed me into him. “You are that good, and you can do it.”
Being so close to him, I felt like I was absorbing his strength and confidence. I gritted my teeth, and nodded.
“Good girl,” Max said. “Now let’s go show them who they’re messing with.”
Standing in front of the doors that led out to the parking lot, I went over every technical detail that Max had taught me. I took a few deep breaths and hopped from side to side, getting the blood pumping through my veins. I was ready.
The parking lot was eerily quiet. The light poles cast dim, reddish light, leaving plenty of dark shadows for people to hide. As I took those first few steps out, my mind raced with worry. What if there were more men that I hadn’t seen? They could be hiding anywhere.
I walked towards Max’s car. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement around the white van. In just a few seconds, they were on me. The stood in a semi-circle in front of me. One carried a club. The others kept their hands close to the waistband of their pants.
One, two, three, four, five, I counted.
Time seemed to slow down, and there was a buzzing in my ears. In my bewildered state, they didn’t seem like men at all, but creatures that I must defeat.
“Good evening, Jenny,” a man said. It was the same man that had spoken to Jim. He had a casual demeanor and a Joker-esque smile. “Where’s your husband? We have business to attend to.”
“He’ll be out any minute,” I said, innocently. “Excuse me.” I tried to walk past them, but they moved closer together, tightening the gaps between them.
“Maybe you could entertain us while we wait,” he said. “Come on into the van.”
I stepped back and assumed the fighting stance Max had taught me. My feet were staggered apart, my fists up in front of my face, the muscles in my stomach and thighs contracted. The men looked at me and howled with laughter.
“Look at Mrs. MMA,” the man said. He nodded to the other men, and they closed in around me.
I kept my body solid, ready to kick, punch, whatever I had to do. At that moment, Max ran up behind them, yielding the stick high above his head. He startled the men by knocking a few across the head. They turned, all reaching for their waistbands. With the end of the stick, Max knocked the guns out of their hands faster than they could get a hold of them. Rat-a-tat-tat, one by one, followed by the clatter of metal against the asphalt. I ran and kicked every gun I could find under cars.
The men couldn't attack him fast enough. Max kicked and punched them away. Two tried to attack him at once. Max grabbed onto their torsos, and butted their heads together. Someone attacked him from behind. Max lurched forward and threw him over his shoulder. The man with the club approached. He started to take a swing, and Max caught him around the wrist. Max squeezed so hard that his fingers were forced to open, and the club fell from his hand. The man stepped back, his eyes wide in terror, then turned and ran into the night.
It was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen, and it cemented my trust in Max. He could go up against anyone, anything, and come out victorious. I wanted to run to him and jump into his arms. Then, a tall dark figure emerged from the shadows and headed right towards Max. Nico.
Max didn’t see him. I tried to warn him, but it was too late. Nico surprised Max from behind and pinned him against a car. His entire body was leveraged against Max. He grabbed the stick from Max and raised it high above his head.
It was like I was watching a scene from a movie, and the narrator said, “Jenny, this is it.”
I resumed my fighting stance, then charged as fast as I could towards Nico. I slammed against his back, and he let out a startled yelp. Before he could turn around, I wrapped my leg around him, then hooked my heel between his thighs. I pressed against his back with all of my weight and pushed him to the ground, freeing Max.
Max immediately stood over Nico, who was lying on his back on the asphalt. Nico put his hands out in surrender and whispered, “Please.”
Max bent and grabbed the front of Nico’s shirt, lifting his shoulders from the ground. Max’s face was inches from his. “Stay away from me, stay away from my family,” Max growled. He let go of Nico’s shirt and stood. “And don’t ever come back to this stadium. You’re ruining the integrity of our sport.”
Max protectively put his arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go, Jenny,” he said, then whispered in my ear. “You were amazing.”
Epilogue
It was Friday at the stadium, and Max had done the impossible. He’d won a championship match without the help of a trainer. After that night, Jim had disappeared, and we never heard from him again. Max had difficulty finding another trainer, and decided to move forward on his own.
In the backroom of the stadium, I popped open a bottle of champagne and poured some into two paper cups. Max started to refuse his.
“Come on,” I said. “Can’t you take a break from your training diet? We’re celebrating.”
Max grinned, took the paper cup from my hand, and took a big swig. “I’d rather celebrate in a another way.” He pulled me close to him and kissed me. I could taste the sweet champagne on his lips.
“Max McCall,” came an unfamiliar voice, forcing us apart.
A man in an extremely nice suit stood in the doorway. Max tightened his arm around me, holding me by his side.
“I’m Ben Stevens with Christof Group Sports Management,” he said, walking into the room with his hand extended.
Max’s arm relaxed around me. He shook Ben’s hand, and took his card. I watched him read it, and his face brightened up.
“Mr. Stevens,” Max said. “Thank you for coming down.”
“No, thank you. That was one hell of a match,” Ben said. “And all without a trainer. Wow. Amazing.”
“I appreciate it,” Max said, humbly.
Ben looked to me and the bottle of champagne. “I can see you’re celebrating, so I won’t keep you long. My number’s on the card. Give me a call tomorrow and we’ll set up a time to meet.”
“I’ll do that,” Max said.
When Ben was gone, I turned to Max. “Honey, who was that?”
Max refilled his paper cup with champagne, and drank it down. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”
I followed Max out of the building, wondering where we could possibly be going. There wasn’t much out this way but industrial warehouses.
“Look, there,” Max said.
I gasped at the beautiful sight. In the distance were two huge piles of granite, so tall they looked like mountain. They perfectly framed the setting sun. The golden rays made the granite cast a bluish light, which was beautiful under the pink sky.
“This only happens for a few minutes every day,” Max said. “I thought you
would like it.” Max folded his hands over mind. “Christof is the biggest in the business. They turn fighters into celebrities.”
“Max, that’s amazing. This is what we’ve been waiting for,” I said.
Max shrugged. “I didn’t think it would happen on this level. Jenny, if I sign with them, our lives would change completely. I’d be on television, in the public eye. We probably have to move.”
I turned to Max, snuggling against his chest. “I’ll follow you where ever you go.”
Max beamed, then leaned down and kissed me. The sun dipped deeper between the granite mountains until the last ray blinked away, allowing night to fall.
Strengthened Through Him
The flat screen TV flickered to life. It showed a young blonde woman applying makeup to Max’s face. I could see Max clenching his eyes, obviously uncomfortable. When she was done, Max’s skin was smooth, and his scars had disappeared. The makeup artist moved on to Adam Williams, the host. He was much more at home under the makeup brushes, glaring lights, and the audience of about fifty that mumbled with anticipation. Max shifted in his chair, clearly out of his element. With his new status of celebrity MMA fighter, Max knew it was part of his job to go on shows like this to promote his upcoming fight. It was in his contract after all. He tolerated it well, and usually came off as gentle and charming, if not a little guarded. His agent had instructed him to be more open, and Max had promised to try tonight.
“Beer, wine, champagne?” a young, brunette page asked me.
“Sparkling water?” I said, hopefully.
“We have that,” she said, nodding, then scurried away.
I clutched the cross pendant that hung around my neck and said a little prayer for Max.
“In five,” the director said through the TV, then started the countdown.
Max straightened up and smiled when the cameras started rolling.
“We’re back with Max McCall,” Adam Williams said. “So, Max we’ve talked a lot about your fighting career, but that’s not all you’re about, right? You’re a family man.”
“That’s right,” Max said, then cleared his throat. “I have a beautiful wife, Jenny, and an amazing stepdaughter, Lily.”
“It sounds like you and your wife have a great relationship,” Adam said. “What advice would you give the men out there, how can they keep their ladies happy?”
Max drummed his fingers against the arms of the chair. He was starting to sweat through his makeup. “Just, um-“ he started.
“Come on, baby,” I whispered.
Max took a deep breath, regaining his composure. “What works for me is to remember that my wife is my spiritual partner. God is central to our marriage, and keeps our relationship strong.”
“Yes,” I said, victoriously, thinking that was a brilliant answer.
Adam seemed surprised. “God, huh? You’re a religious man?”
Max nodded. He looked uncomfortable again from talking about matters as personal as faith on national television. “Yes, I’d say I am.”
My breath caught in my chest. After we’d relocated to California, we’d encountered many secularists, especially in the entertainment industry. It wasn’t like back home where we could talk about our beliefs openly. Though people were nice here, as soon as we mentioned something about God, they seemed to silently judge us.
“Jesus was a pacifist, am I right?” Adam asked.
“In a way,” Max said.
Adam cracked his knuckles, preparing to take Max to task. “So, all the beating people up, is that kosher in your religion?”
This got a tremendous response from the crowd. They cheered their host. Adam smiled with a ‘gotcha’ look in his eye. Max waited for the cheering to die down before he responded.
“MMA fighting is about so much more than beating each other up,” Max said. “It’s a sport of skill and strategy. It draws on traditions that are centuries old. Look, it might look bad to you. You may wonder, how can they take punches like that? But MMA fighters aren’t like average people. They’re tough, tougher than nails. They can take it, trust me.”
Silence fell over the studio, and a second later, the crowd erupted in cheers. Max smiled humbly at the adoration. Adam raised his hand, trying to control the crowd.
“Gotcha,” I said under my breath.
When the interview ended, I waited eagerly for Max to make his way backstage. When I saw him, I jumped into his arms and kissed his lips.
“Max, you were great out there,” I said. “You’re starting to get good at this.”
“I don’t know about that,” Max said. He rubbed his lips, and a thick layer of beige makeup smeared across his fingers. “I’m ready to get this stuff off.”
The makeup artist came in and starting removing Max’s makeup with cotton pads. I waited on the couch, looking forward to going home and eating the ice cream we had in the freezer. Publicity days were long, relentless, and often left me feeling exhausted. If it was this bad for me, then I wondered how it was for Max.
Mark, Max’s agent, entered the room with a cellphone pressed against his ear.
“Yes, yes, I know,” Mark said. “I’m here with him now.” Mark put the phone in his pocket, and looked to Max with a befuddled expression. “What was that?” he asked.
“I thought it went pretty well,” Max said.
“Me too,” I said.
“Pretty well?” Mark said. “What was all that God stuff? Social media is going to go crazy.”
Max shrugged. “Why is talking about God suddenly so controversial?”
“Because you have to keep business and religion separate,” Mark said. “We’re here to sell, not divide.”
I was starting to get annoyed. Mark had wanted Max to be more open, and that was just what Max had done. “I’m sure there are plenty of people of faith watching at home. They probably liked what Max said.”
Mark’s phone dinged in his pocket. He picked it up and stared at the screen while talking to me. “You mean middle of nowhere Americans who don’t buy tickets or merchandise? Not exactly our demographic.”
I clenched my hands into fists, seething. Max gave me a look, telling me to drop it.
“We need to put out this fire before it gets out of control,” Mark said. “I want you to write a nice little post explaining that when you said ‘God’ you meant a universal god. That you weren’t citing any one religion in particular.”
“Forgive me for saying this, but that’s complete bullshit,” Max said.
Mark’s phone rang. He answered it, then placed his hand over the receiver. “Write the post,” he whispered harshly, then left the room.
Max and I rode home in the white, stretch limo sent by his agency. We didn’t speak much, both staring out of our windows. I watched the massive buildings pass by as we navigated the congested highway. This wasn’t at all like back home, where there were more trees than houses. There were only a handful of churches in this city. Max and I had found one thirty minutes away, but even that didn’t suit us. The pastor’s teachings strayed from the Bible both of us held to, and seemed tolerant of things that went against God’s word.
Max reached across the seat and took my hand. Even with these limitations, I never lost sight of God’s influence on my life. This was thanks mostly in part to Max. He was a strong and noble head of household, and I would follow his lead anywhere.
The limo winded up the hills before stopping in front of the Mediterranean style mansion that was way too big for our small family. The agency had rented it for us, even though we’d requested more modest accommodations. The floor to ceiling windows at the back of the house looked onto the terrace, and the pool below. Neon lights of changing colors flashed under the water. They came on every night, making it look like a spaceship was landing outside. Inside, the kitchen countertops were thick slabs of marble, which looked beautiful, but were easy to knick with a wayward knife or heavy cooking pan. The house was filled with unpractical touches like this. To me, they were nothing
more than garish displays of wealth. Instead of paying for this lavish house, the agency could have donated to charity and helped those in need.
Max and I settled onto the white leather couch that was more stylish than comfortable, the pint of ice cream between us.
“I didn’t like the way the host dug into you like that,” I said, licking my spoon. “What’s wrong with believing in something?”
“It’s the culture out here,” Max said, shrugging it off. “They’d rather worship money and success than the God who created them.”
I ate another spoonful of ice cream, contemplating while the chocolate sweetness melted on my tongue. “And Mark, he acted like you’d committed some kind of crime. All you did was share your beliefs.”
Max grabbed my wrist, steadying my hand which I just then realized was shaking. “Calm down. Don’t get yourself so worked up.”
“It just makes me so mad,” I huffed.
“It’s not worth the energy,” Max said, calmly.
I pointed my spoon at him. “You should write that post. Say that you believe in the truth, the truth of God’s word, and that’s why you’re so blessed. I’ll help you draft it up.” I started to stand and looked for paper and a pen, when Max grabbed my arm.
“What did I say?” Max said in a stern voice.
I relaxed back on the couch. “You said not to get worked up,” I said, timidly.
“And I expect you to listen the first time I tell you something,” Max snarled.
He yanked my arm, pulling me over his lap. In an instant, he had my skirt up and my panties down. He laid his hand flat across my bare bottom.
“Good sense makes one slow to anger, and it is in His glory to overlook an offense,” Max said. He raised his hand and swatted me hard against the left cheek. “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.” He spanked the other cheek.
Sweet Submission: Jenny and Max Complete Series Plus Bonus Short Story Page 6
