Tap Out

by Hilary Storm

  The curtain flies open allowing her to stare at me while the water drips from her drenched hair. “See him where?”

  “At some fight.”

  “What? Did he tell you where? Is this like a date or something?”

  “Not exactly. He’s in the fight.”

  “Holy shit. Kinsley, he’s a fighter.” She slides the curtain closed quickly. “You need new clothes. We need to hurry.”

  “No, I don’t. I’m not even going to go.”

  “The fuck you aren’t. I’m not going to listen to your ass for the next three years while you look back on this missed opportunity because you’re a pansy ass that didn’t take this chance. Worst case scenario… he loses the fight and you end up getting ditched while he licks his wounds.”

  The smell of soap fills the air as her words sound rushed while she continues to hound me about what to do. “Or better yet, he loses and then lets you lick his wounds… but even then, you’ll get to go to a fight and it’ll be something you’ll never forget.” The curtain opens once more, so she can pull me into her glaring look again. “We did come here to do shit we’ve never done before. This is the perfect chance.”

  “Fine. He said there’d be two tickets. Looks like we’re both going. That is, if you ever get ready so we can leave the damn house.” I leave the bathroom as I say the last bit, not giving her a chance to throw out any more excuses as to why she’s made me wait to do anything this morning.

  It only takes her about an hour to get her hair and makeup on, which is faster than normal. I purchase us two tickets online for the ghost tour that starts in about an hour, refusing to let her force me into a full afternoon of shopping.

  The tour bus stops at a few creepy hotels and the guide fills us in on all the legendary stories that are meant to send chills up our spines, but it isn’t until we make it to the grave yard that I feel the chill.

  Ornate tombs fill the cemetery, quickly reminding us just how old this town is and how many lives have passed through here. The rumors of vampires and ghosts leave me unsure how to think, but I guess anything is possible.

  We move around the cemetery in a group, even though I keep getting drawn in by the tombs inscriptions, making up my own story as to how each one may have died. Mollie follows the group, leaving me behind out of her own boredom.

  I’m stepping around an elaborate tomb that’s overly decorated when I see him in the distance. I know it’s Mavick the second I see the hoodie. He’s resting his forearms against the walls of a tomb, his head lowered while he doesn’t move a muscle. I watch him for a few minutes, neither of us shifting from the position we started in.

  Seeing him like this does something to me. Something I can’t explain, but somehow it makes me feel even more connected to him. I want to go to him and wrap my arms around his waist and just let him know he’s not alone. And another part of me is dying to know who’s tomb he’s here to see. Is this something he does before he fights?

  I take a single step and regret it instantly because a stick cracks under the weight of my foot. He turns his head at the sound, our eyes connecting instantly. His face is red and tears trace down his cheeks before he catches them with his sleeves. He doesn’t say a word, but the intensity in his stare says everything. We’re both just frozen in time saying so much, yet nothing at all.

  My hand moves to my heart before I can stop myself. He watches until I spread my fingers flat against my chest, then he pulls the hood further down over his face and turns to run in the other direction.

  Curiosity has me wanting to read what the tomb says that he was so connected to, but out of respect for him I walk the other way and don’t give in to the temptation of being nosy. It’s obviously someone that meant a lot to him and I’m not about to disrespect his privacy when it comes to something like this.

  Chapter Three

  Kinsley

  The event center is massive and my nerves are all over the place as I stand in line with practically the entire city of New Orleans to see a fight I had no idea about just twenty-four hours ago. Mollie is proving to be my pillar of strength for tonight, because without her here with me, I wouldn’t have stepped out of the Uber in the first place.

  We finally step up to the window for our turn at Will Call and give my name. The attendant looks up at me with surprise before she turns to speak into a hand device, saying something I can’t make out because of all the noise behind me.

  “Someone will be right with you.” A few minutes later a man dressed as a security guard opens the door next to the box office and says my name.

  “That’s us.” Mollie speaks up for the both of us, since all of this seems a little to surreal for me at the moment. He gives a slight smile before he escorts us through the door, then down a hallway to bypass the next set of lines as everyone else is forced to wait to get in.

  An uneasy feeling of being overwhelmed floats near the surface, but is quickly calmed a little when the hall door closes and all the noise fades behind us.

  “You have VIP tickets. There’s a backstage room that we’ll hold you in until just before the main event is about to start. Until then, you can watch on the big screen and enjoy the open bar and even order dinner if you’d like.” Mollie’s head whips around to get my attention and I see her starting to put together the fact that I might be holding a few things back about my initial meeting with this guy.

  “Perfect. Thank you so much.” I finally speak once he shows us the room we’re supposed to stay in. I’m overtaken with the comfort and it’s obvious this room isn’t just for anyone.

  Mavick has given me the prime experience of tonight and for that I have to say I’m anxious to see him fight. I’m even more excited to see him after he’s done.

  Something tells me he’s going to be one hell of a force to be reckoned with if what I saw online was true. He has a point to make tonight and I can’t help but feel honored that he wanted me to be here to see it.

  The guard hits the remote before he leaves, turning on the sound of the announcers talking about Mavick and his recent struggles in the industry. “We haven’t seen him since his loss back in April. Even though he’s been in hiding, I’m going to have to give The Assassin my vote tonight. Something tells me he’s here to take it all back and remind us who he is.”

  “Jesus, Kinsley. I’m so damn glad we both went shopping today.” We sit together on the couch, I slide my heels off and tuck my legs under my body as I look around and take in everything around us.

  The door opens and a woman dressed in a black pencil skirt and jacket approaches us. “I’m Samantha. I’m here to take care of you tonight. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Yes, we’ll both take a shot of tequila and then can you make us something fruity?” Mollie answers before I have a chance to think about what I want to drink. I don’t object since I would’ve probably asked for the fruity drink myself.

  It’s the tequila that I could do without, but maybe it’ll help drown any nerves that will come to surface when we go to our seats.

  Three tequila shots and four different fruity drinks later, we’re being escorted down some stairs. We seem to be the only two back here that aren’t part of the work crew, so we stand out in our tight dresses and tall heels. I take the stairs slow, intentionally not wanting to fall on my face after the alcohol. Mollie has already stepped through the little door that must lead to the crowd, because I can’t hear anything except the roaring crowd yelling ‘Assassin’.

  Most of my reservations are gone, which is how I’m able to smile and give a little wave to Mavick when I get to the bottom of the stairs. His eyelids drop partially and I can practically feel his eyes scrape down my skin as he starts by looking at my hair, then quickly lets his eyes rake over me once again.

  “Fuck no.” The older guy behind him tries to pull him by the arm and stop him from approaching me, but fails when Mavick yanks his arm out of his grip. The intensity in his stare holds me in place, my body frozen while I wait f
or his next move.

  It’s as if everything else fades into a blur as he saunters toward me, pinning my soul in place as he slowly backs me against the wall… all the while never saying a word.

  The cord from his earbuds dangle on his bare chest between us and I find myself wondering what he’s listening to. What makes this man tick? What gets him in the right mindset to fight like he’s about to in front of millions that will watch from all over the world.

  His hands are hidden beneath his gloves as he holds them at his sides. He releases a breath, sending a chill over my skin at the same time his glare continues to heat me from the inside out.

  He’s so damn close to me, yet not touching me at all. The heaviness of his… everything… leaves me breathless and wishing we could do all of this without his entourage watching us so closely. Would he act different? I’m sure he’s used to the audience, but I begin to feel the awkwardness now that I’ve allowed myself to remember we’re not alone.

  He begins to move his head slightly as if he’s allowing the music playing in his ears to move him. His stare intensifies while I watch him, making me want to know what he’s thinking. Is he preparing himself mentally for the fight, or is this just his way of reminding me of what he has planned for me after it’s all over.

  Either way, he’s sexy as fuck and I’m officially ready to climb his body and not give a shit what anyone around us thinks.

  He’s deep. Deep inside me with a soul-piercing glare that continues to paralyze me and leave me stupid against all logic.

  I finally manage a small smile while his reaction doesn’t shift in the slightest, but his eyes move to my lips for a simple second before he locks me in once again.

  I’m hot, even with my back against the harsh concrete wall.

  “Enough. Fuck this guy up and then you can play.” The older guy yanks an earbud from Mavick’s ear finally giving me the courage to move. I purposely skim my hand down his chest to pick up the dangling bud, before I carefully place it back in his ear. Then I slide past him, finally allowing the guard to escort me into the coliseum.

  The lights go on and off as I make my way down to the center of the crowd, all the while the boos and obnoxious yelling startles me as the other guy makes his way into the room on the other side.

  “We need to hurry.” The guard rushes me, and I can only imagine it means Mavick is about to enter behind me. The last thing I need to do is be in his way when he’s trying to get into the ring and fight, so I walk fast.

  “And in the blue corner… Mavick Black, ‘The Assassinnnnnnnnn’,” the announcer draws out his name as the crowd goes wild. Chills spread over me as I look around the building and listen to the screams and even some cries while he makes his way to the center. It’s very apparent he’s in his own house and these people love him.

  I watch him come down the aisle, never looking at me, but sending a heavy sensation over my body as he passes. Even though the loud music plays over the speakers, he’s lost in his own head… or lost in thinking about me, I’m not sure.

  Mollie grabs my arm as he walks by, squeezing and releasing a high-pitched squeal at the same time he drops his robe to the ground in front of us. “Oh my god. He’s fucking sexy as hell Kins.” I can’t deny what she’s saying, because it’s the truth… not that I could speak if I wanted to with everything that’s happened.

  He slides between the ropes, confidence scorching from his body as he walks the outer edge of the ring while the announcer continues to rally the crowd up for the fight. The seriousness on his face says everything.

  He is here to win this.

  The guy in the other corner yells something as he walks by, taunting him into an even deeper determined state. He continues to heckle Mavick, even though he’s not getting any sort of reaction out of him. I hope Mavick is saving his for show time. Maybe he’s a walk the walk type of guy instead of a trash talking lunatic like the other one is. Let the bullshit fuel you Mavick.

  One glance at his ears and I realize he’s still shutting out everything, with the exception of what’s playing in the earbuds. I want to know what his choice of music is before a fight.

  Hell, I find myself wanting to uncover so much when it comes to this man. The few minutes I had with him last night simply gave me a taste and I want to know more. I have to know more.

  He sits on a small stool in his corner and it isn’t until a short older man is in his face that he pulls the ear pieces out. His scowl should terrify me, but I find everything about him intriguing. This man is intense and I can’t wait to watch him obliterate the other guy.

  Normally I’d stay away from events like this. Decline any invitation to a ‘fight night’ at my friend’s houses where they rent it and have everyone over to watch grown men beat the shit out of each other.

  Maybe it’s because I’m here live, in the very front feeling the anticipation of the entire place rising as time nears for the bell to ring. I find myself wanting him to knock the other guy on his ass and end this quick, but then again it might be interesting to see him draw it out and give us all a show.

  Mollie is screaming along with the crowd when Mavick stands. I’m silent. Focused on his every move. Focused on the way his continued confidence radiates through me, through everyone in this place. Jesus, I can’t wait to get him hands on this man. Wait… I can’t wait for him to have his hands on me.

  Chapter Four

  Mavick

  One hit. That’s all it’s going to take to knock this fucker on his ass. Then I’ll line up the next guy to prove my point. This is my house and I won’t be caught off guard again. That single loss will forever haunt me and remind me of one of the worst nights of my life.

  I should’ve known better than to try to fight when Vincent was in the hospital, even though he demanded. That old man underestimated how much he meant to me and my ability to focus when he’s undergoing a surgery that ended up taking his life.

  His words of encouragement flash through my mind as I watch this fool think he has a chance against me. This will end quick. I’m not here to fuck around.

  The sound of the bell is all I need to walk to the middle and send him a fake jab from the right before I nail him with my left hook. He falls to the ground and I don’t even go down with him to make sure I got the job done. I know I did by the look of his empty eyes the second I made contact.

  I’m sure the entire place is in an uproar, but I can’t hear a thing. I close my eyes and focus on the memories of Vincent as Blaze places my earbuds back in and we all wait for the technical bullshit to declare me the winner.

  “You have to stay grounded, Mavick. I’ve seen so many lose when they get the big head. You’ve got what it takes to obliterate the competition if you stay humble, but don’t you ever forget to keep that stubborn determination on the forefront. You always say this is your house. Well, you have to earn it.” He recorded an hour of him talking to me before my last win. I had no idea he was doing it, but I’m thankful as fuck that he did.

  It took me weeks to be able to listen to the entire thing, but it eventually became the very thing that brought me out of my funk and helped me realign my focus. I needed to hear him once again. He’s been there for me since I was eight years old, providing me guidance and helping me like my own worthless father should’ve been doing.

  Joe throws my left arm in the air when my win is acknowledged by the judges and my mind instantly switches to her. The wild cat that I’ve spent the day trying to not think about. She bows her head when my eyes meet hers. She knows where my head is and I hope to hell she doesn’t run away like she should.

  I’m hungry as fuck for sex and could have any one of the women in this coliseum, but she’s the one that has my attention. Her blue eyes pulled me apart the second I caught her up close and in the light of the stairwell. Fuck. She’s got a huge smile on her face as her hooded eyes find mine over the ropes.

  Everything about her has been a giant tease to my throbbing cock, but I didn’t break
the rules that I set for myself during fight week. Now I just have to lose the thousands of people that are going to try to talk to me tonight.

  “Mavick Black… How does it feel to be back in the ring?”

  “It feels amazing.”

  “Did you think you’d come in here and get the KO in one hit?”

  “Yes. I’m prepared to fight tonight, just like I’ll stay ready to fuckin’ fight anyone who wants to challenge me.”

  “Will you ever fight Jones again?”

  “I’d fight him right now if he’s in the house. He caught me on an off night. That won’t happen again.” I lay it straight with the announcer and hope like hell Jones takes me up on the challenge I just sent him.

  After a few pictures, I jump on the top rope and straddle it for a little extra show for my fans. They need to know the fun guy is still in here, even if he’s buried a under the depth of everything that I’ve been going through. It feels great to be back and even better to have that first win behind me. My intro song, ‘Real’ by NF begins to blare through the event space and I can’t help but smile that I’m back home again as the chaos fills my ears.

  She’s holding her hands together in front of her smile when I allow my eyes to land on her again. The attraction I have for this girl is out of control, but then again, I’ve been dry for a few months… not that I allowed myself to talk to anyone during that time. She just happened to walk into my space and grab my attention when my mind was in a great place.

  People begin to rush toward me, pushing against Kinsley and her friend before my team can get to them and protect them from the rush. Security steps in quickly, but it still pisses me off that anyone was allowed this close to the VIP section.

  I jump down with the intention of checking on her, but just as I do, she steps forward. My body lands directly in front of her, with only inches of space between us. Neither of us speak right away, again lost looking into each other’s eyes, making promises of what’s to come.