I was going to sweat my weight off, before it killed me.
Chapter 12
Stryker
I made weight without stressing about it. At least Gray didn’t have to forfeit. She must have lost more weight than I thought when she was locked up and they didn’t feed her.
If I was going against Blaze, I needed all the rage I could harness. I had to win. There was no other option. Not when the team’s success came from the individual points we each earned.
I bounced on my toes, my heels coming down and barely glancing off the tiled flooring in the school locker room before rising back up, over and over. Rolling my head side to side, I swung my arms back and forth as I warmed up my form.
The gym had been extended with the bleachers running back into the stage area and the boxing ring set up in the center of the floor. They ran one fight at a time, each the focus for the duration. The tournament would run throughout the day, each person getting to fight more and more depending on how many times they won. The only exception to that was Gray. With only two girls in the whole of the tournament competing, they only had to fight the one time – with five rounds. Fifteen minutes to decide which side would win.
Because Gray made up our girl’s division and Letesha made up Timbercreek’s, the points were proportioned out like the winner of that round was actually worth two.
My first fight was against Blaze. Then I would go against the fighter in my class from Plummer while Blaze would go against another option from Plummer. The winners from each of those fights would go against each other and then that winner would go against whoever had won my first fight.
That would be the final fight for the night and the one where the money would be made in the gambling boxes. If things could just get back to a place where we could seek out normal, I would feel better about pursuing Gray. I already felt terrible about taking her virginity when she was going through so much as it was. The last thing I wanted to do was cause more pain for her – physical or otherwise.
If we could just get through the day and do what we’d been told, we could be closer to getting back on track.
I hadn’t told anyone yet – Brock and Gunner included – that Dominick wasn’t going to live long enough to see my eighteenth birthday. I wasn’t sure how or when, but I knew I was going to delight in taking his life. Some people were just too evil to deserve to live.
“You ready?” Coach Asher moved in front of me, checking a clipboard with squinty, red rimmed eyes.
I stopped bouncing long enough to glare at him. I didn’t answer. Why should I? He was no coach of mine. Staring past him, I ground out through gritted teeth. “Gunner will be my acting cornerman. I don’t need you there.”
Asher – who I wanted to call Asshole instead – blinked at me, as he tried to register what I said.
After a minute of standing in front of me and trying to work through what I’d commanded, he finally nodded slowly. “Okay, got it.” He turned to walk away, but then turned back. “I’m not the bad guy here.”
I arched an eyebrow and returned to bouncing and swinging my arms. “You might not be, but screwing Danielle? Your daughter’s aunt? That doesn’t make you the good guy either.” I never looked at him. I have no idea what his expression said or how he reacted.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure I could care about the worthless man any more than I had already expended.
The referee approached the middle of the ring and motioned us in from the sides of the gym. I hadn’t realized Blaze had been in place all that time already. I’d been too focused on Asher to really see much of anything else. Asher and my thoughts about Gray.
Blaze sauntered to the ring, careful to step through the ropes as he kept his smirk directed my way.
I ignored the still-gathering crowd. Most of them knew it was going to be a long day and that our fight was just a qualifying one. Blaze’s lankier form looked like it was emaciated compared to the normal fighters I expected to meet who wore the solidness of the weight class with pride. Where my muscles were cut and tight from working all the time, others in my class were soft and puffy, some barely showing their muscles.
One thing I’d always been grateful for was my father’s build. More solid in the shoulders and across the back with muscles carried out through the arms and down the torso. I worked hard to keep my legs in proportion to my upper body and it showed with the lines of my thighs, calves, and butt.
Thumping my gloves together, I climbed the ropes, too, ducking beneath them and coming out on the other side with my balance in place.
My confidence held steady as I continued rolling my head on my neck and lifting and dropping my shoulders in a soundless rhythm only I could hear.
Blaze stared at me. Hatred sizzled in his gaze and his nostrils flared. As the referee moved into place and I could feel Gunner settle into my corner, Blaze moved up to the referee and held up his gloves. He shook his head as the referee lowered his raised hands and listened to whatever Blaze said.
I cocked my head to the side, shifting my gaze from Blaze to Gunner. Gunner shrugged, then turned his attention back to the talking referee. A few more tense seconds passed and Blaze motioned his cornerman to come up and talk with the referee. A man I’d never seen before climbed into the ring and approached the ref with his hands indolently tucked into his pockets. His slicked back hair reminded me of Dominick, but where Dominick was dark-haired, this man was dark blond with light green eyes.
He spoke to the referee and then pulled out his phone, swiping the screen, poking and poking, and then turning the phone to face the ref.
Reading the screen, the ref nodded and then backed up. He motioned toward me and yelled out, “Winner and moving on to the next round. Timbercreek, Stryker Jameson.”
I clenched my teeth together, even as I raised my arms in the air and did the requisite turn around the ring.
Blaze was saving the actual fight for that evening. After Gray’s fight. After everything else had been settled. He would guarantee we would fight. I had no doubt about it. The only problem was, he didn’t know Plummer or the way their boxers were ravenous for a good spin through the ring.
I forced myself to smile with a relaxed curve to my lips. No matter what, Blaze wouldn’t know how pissed this made me. Sure, there was a possibility we’d be against each other that evening, but now, knowing how Blaze worked, we would be the final focus for bets. I wasn’t sure just what that would mean to Gray or what types of steps would be taken to ensure Blaze won.
Would she be upset that I hadn’t had a chance to fight? I had no way of knowing since she was shuttered behind her own tragedies and losses.
Just telling her that morning what I knew about her mother had about split me in half between a side that wanted to stay out of it and a side that needed her to know everything.
I’d be damned, if I wasn’t going to be completely honest with her.
The referee called Blaze and I into the center. His forfeit had given me a temporary up in the game, but judging by the gleam in his eyes he was willing to take the loss at that time. Knowing he worked with Dominick only made me more concerned that something wasn’t right.
I snorted when I admitted to myself nothing ever was.
We bumped gloves and Blaze jerked his chin upward as he held my gaze. “Where’s your little whore, Jameson? All used up?”
If he was talking about Gray, my anger was justified. But a part of me suspected he referenced Jaeda and Jasmine. Somehow, he knew that we’d lost one of our team members. I had no idea why she’d been over in Timbercreek, but it was something that hadn’t been far from my mind all week.
What more could I do for the twins and their family? I turned from Blaze, ignoring his words and the taunt he tried to strategically put in place to upset me. I had more control than that and it was Blaze’s problem that he underestimated me.
That move just gave me an advantage.
If he knew about Jaeda and Jasmine, then that meant he was working with t
he Russians and Dominick. If they worked together – all three of them, then there was something else going on entirely and I had until the start of my next fight to figure it out.
I climbed from the ring and unstrapped my gloves, waiting for Gunner to pull one of the mitts off so I could finish the job.
“Did you hear that? Blaze knows something about the girls.” I could be wrong and he could have been talking about Gray, but somehow, I didn’t think so. He’d slipped and wanted me to know he knew, but I don’t think he realized I could put more than just two and two together.
“Got it. I’ll look into what I can find out while Brock is fighting. Mine was canceled. He forfeited before we even got in the ring.” Gunner ignored me as I sliced my gaze to his face.
A forfeit before the ring meant that fighter was out. There were no more in that weight class across the board either. Gunner had been slated to go against a fighter from Plummer.
Without those points, all the rest of the fighters had to work harder because their points carried more weight.
“We’re being played. Is Gray ready?” I couldn’t see her before the fight. As it was, I wanted to whisk Gray away and run with her to a place that was anywhere but in Jameson or Timbercreek.
If it wasn’t for the families and my cousins and other people who would be affected by our abandonment, we’d be on a plane right then or driving as fast as we could to the south.
“She’s here. She has final weigh-in sometime right about now. Did you want to see her?” Gunner motioned to Brock who had already started his warm up routine which was similar to mine.
“No. I can’t think when she’s around. She needs to focus on her fight anyway.” Plus, I had to see just what I could figure out. “Do you have your phone on you?” I held out my hand as Gunner slid me his cell. I punched in the number Vlasi Ivanovs had made me commit to memory.
We continued walking until we could step off under the bleachers, safe from prying eyes and ears.
Vlasi answered, no words necessary.
“Mr. Ivanovs, is Blaze Divers working with the Ivanovs family?” I stared at the painted lines and pitted surface of the cement blocks forming the gym wall. Even the bright orange and blue paint couldn’t hide the simple practicality of the structure of the gym.
“No. We won’t work with Divers. He roughed up one of our girls a few months ago and didn’t pay. He’s been on a list with us since.” The older man’s voice was gruff as he spoke, as if he hadn’t spoken in a very long time.
I nodded, inhaling and lifting my chest as my lungs filled with air and intention. “Got it. Is it safe to presume that the Ivanovs family and associates will not be present at the Jameson homecoming boxing tournament today?” The last thing I wanted to do was create problems with the Timbercreek and Washington Ivanovs. If all of the Russians at the tourney were Romanovs, then I knew what side I would be on for the feud between the two.
Vlasi coughed and then his husky voice crawled across the line between us. “We are keeping our business on hockey this weekend. From what my sources tell me, there is going to be a pig luau at Jameson tonight.”
I jerked my eyes toward Brock, nodding as I understood what he was saying. “Well, I hope they have leis. Thank you for your candor, Mr. Ivanovs. We will take care of things on this end. Have a good night.” It wasn’t out of line to expect dirty cops where there would be clean cops. The shootout at Tiny’s was enough to have me questioning police authority for the rest of my life.
Cops. There would be cops in Jameson tonight. Most likely they would be of the fed persuasion. Vlasi wouldn’t waste his time with moles on state or local jurisdictions.
We hung up and I stared at Gunner. “Get a warning out to the factory. No work for the next two weeks until I get things cleaned up. I also want you to send a warning text to Dominick, but I’ll write it up.” Gunner didn’t question my decision. He knew the well-being of the town, my cousins, the students, and Gray were my biggest concerns. As far as everything else, I couldn’t care less.
We would get things squared away and then we would let the chips fall where they would. Maybe, while we got our messages out, we could watch Brock demolish his opponent and then enjoy the sight of Gray in her shorts and boxing tank. Her legs wanted to go for days.
I pushed thoughts of her without clothes on from my mind. Standing beside her at the scale that morning, in my bathroom no less, had taken more restraint than I’d thought humanly possible.
She’d even taunted me as she’d pressed her body against mine. If I’d ravaged her like I wanted, she wouldn’t be able to keep her head in the game.
That’s what we needed. Both of us focused on the fight at hand. If we lost because I couldn’t keep my hands off Gray’s ass, she’d never forgive me.
I’d never forgive myself.
Chapter 13
Gray
I did it. I got my weight on Stryker’s scale down to 118.8. That should be enough room to account for scale differences. I caught a ride to the school with Gunner and nodded him off to cornerman for Stryker before I headed in for my weigh-in.
I’ll admit I strode in like I owned the place. I’d twisted my hair into two braids and then pinned those together for one solid piece and I’d applied some dark liner and shadow to give me a meaner look.
Letesha would be rocking a more exotic look and I had to make sure my confidence didn’t slip when I saw her.
“I’ll be right there.” I didn’t want to miss Stryker’s fight which I shouldn’t because I could do a fast weigh-in and then go out and do my warm-up while watching his and Brock’s.
Gunner waved me down the hall and I ducked into the girls’ locker room.
Women instructors and volunteers for the program stood by, maybe five in total, as Letesha emerged from a bathroom stall with a towel wrapped around her body.
She glanced up at me, first friendliness on her face and then it shifted to controlled animosity.
Something had changed, but I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Had Blaze told her lies about me? Or was it simple enough to say that she bought into the whole rivalry thing of Timbercreek and Jameson?
I nodded at her and strode further into the locker room, gathering the lay of the land a little bit more before I just dropped my clothes.
The locker room had a generic feel with its white speckled tiles crawling up the walls and the treated wooden benches dividing the banks of dark blue lockers standing sentinel before the shower stalls. If you passed all of that, you’d reach the bathroom area with toilet cubicles, the sinks, a feminine products dispenser and then finally the door to get into the gym.
The weigh-in spot was in the showers area behind the half-wall that separated the showers from the rest of the room. And by separate, I mean you could see heads and shoulders of those in the showers, but the walls kept the rest of them hidden.
Since there were only two of us fighting, we didn’t have to stand in line or anything.
Two women sat at a makeshift station with the scale in front of them surrounded by a small dividing screen that created a flimsy stall designed to help the fighters keep a semblance of their privacy.
Letesha stepped inside the screen, her head above the top of the dark pink wood as she closed the back of the box behind her. Her bright pink painted toe nails were easily seen as the bottom of the hinged screens were open and came up to just below her knees. She removed her towel from the safety of the divider and hung it over the top, half of the towel hanging on the outside of the screen.
A large analogue scale sat at the head of the partition within easy reading range of the two women sitting at the table.
I paused by the halfway partition, resting my hand on the edge as I stared over at Letesha and the women.
“One-eighteen-point-seven. You’re in class range. Thank you, Ms. LeCroiz.” The woman must have been from Timbercreek because she said the last part of Letesha’s name with the “w” sound instead of a “z” sound like it suggested.
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br /> “Thank you.” Letesha pulled the towel down and after the sounds of movement inside the cubicle, she opened the side and walked out, avoiding my gaze.
It seemed like an easy weigh-in. I knew I was within range. I just had to get my clothes off and get in there.
“Asher is here.” I held up my finger. “Let me change and I’ll be right out.”
Dispassionately, the women at the table nodded as they picked up their romance novels and read. At least they’d come prepared.
The other witnesses stood against the side wall, some lounged on benches and one yawned. They had to be there to make sure things were fair and nothing untoward was going to happen. I recognized Mrs. Stuble from the economics class at Timbercreek and I gave her a side smile as I passed to the get to the bathroom stalls. She nodded her head, bending back over what looked like crochet but could have been knitting – I didn’t know the difference.
In the bathroom, I pulled my backpack from my shoulder and hung it on the door using the hook on the back side.
I pulled my towel from inside the bag, careful to drape it over the side of the stall. I yanked my clothes off, stuffing each article into the backpack before I topped it all off with my shoes.
I was confident I would make the weigh-in. I had no doubt. I mean, I’d taken some laxatives that morning that had done the job pretty quickly. I’d run and sweated until I couldn’t anymore. I was at the point where I’d trimmed off three-and-a-half pounds of whatever weight I could find.
I even tried to force more urine out before I left the stall with the towel wrapped securely under my arms and my backpack swinging from my bare shoulder. Padding barefoot back across the questionably clean tiling, I ignored the women as they sat in their volunteer spots. As soon as I was done, we could all leave. I think everyone was grateful we only had a couple fighters to focus on.
Letesha stepped into the same spot I’d taken when she’d weighed in. This time though, she had bright green shorts on and a black sports bra under a gold and black trimmed tank top. Timbercreek’s colors just made me anxious. I had a lot wrapped up in that old school. It felt kind of weird to fight against them. This would be my first high school fight not at Timbercreek and the circumstances surrounding the fight only left me feeling ill. Not nervous ill, but disappointed ill.
Her Champions: A high school bully romance (Bad Boys of Jameson High Book 3) Page 11
