Event crews were constructing the cage in the center of the hall and lighting and music technicians were preparing for the show. It was organized chaos inside the venue and his pulse picked up. This was nothing. When the lights were on him, his walk-out music played, and the sound of the crowd echoed in his ears, he would be a mess of nerves and doubt. His mouth was dry and he swallowed hard several times, trying to focus on what Griffin was saying.
“You’ll walk out down this aisle, security detail will lead and follow. There’s not much space to walk on either side of you, so just be aware of fans reaching out and shit.”
Great.
“You’ll walk along the right side of the cage . . .” he was saying as he walked the route Dane would be taking. “And then climb up the stairs into the cage. You’re in the left corner for the fight.”
Dane continued to nod. Go right. Up the stairs. Go left.
Sounded simple.
It was far from.
“You know the rest,” Griffin said.
That was the problem. He didn’t know the rest. He had no idea how he was going to react once the cage door locked behind him. Training in the octagon at Punisher Athletics had been hard at first, but he’d started to feel more comfortable in there over the last few weeks. The cage no longer haunted him there in the safety of the gym . . . but the cage in front of him was a different story.
* * *
“I think that’s good.”
“Huh?” Colby glanced up at her mother sitting across from her at Perk-Up, the coffee shop next door to the hospital. Her father had experienced some chest pain the night before, so they’d brought him in an hour ago, once he finally agreed to go. Doctors were running some tests, and though they’d reassured them it wasn’t another heart attack, the wait was torture. On top of her already troubled mind, she could feel the pressure of this new stress resting heavy on her shoulders. “What?” she asked.
Her mother reached across and took a stir stick from her hand, setting it onto the table. “I think the cream is stirred in by now,” she said with a knowing smile. “You okay?
Colby swallowed hard. Her parents knew about her breakup with Dane and the reason for it. She knew they were struggling with a mix of disappointment in her that she’d lied and feeling sorry for her heartbreak. She brushed it off. “I’m fine.” She would be in time. Once she started the new position, she would be too busy to mope around, checking her phone every ten seconds for a call or text she knew she had no right to expect.
Besides, she was here to support her mother, not the other way around. “Are you okay?” Her mother looked as though she hadn’t slept the night before and Colby wished she’d called her sooner.
Her mother nodded. “We will get through this. I’m glad you’re here. The boys are great, but they try to act so tough and I know they are just terrified to admit that their dad isn’t as strong as he used to be . . .” Her voice trailed off.
Colby stood and joined her on her side of the table, giving her a hug. “I’m sure he’s going to be fine. He’s still pretty strong,” she said.
Her mother reached for a napkin to wipe her eyes. “He really likes Dane.”
Colby sighed. She knew that. Over the weeks working together, the two men had gotten close. She suspected Dane looked up to her dad, the way they all did. She wondered if she should let him know her dad was in hospital . . . Not yet. If anything happened, she would. She swallowed hard as the thought of losing someone else she loved closed in on her, making her chest tighten.
“It’s going to take time to get over him,” her mother said.
She nodded, unable to verbalize her thoughts. Not wanting to upset her mother even more.
“You’re sure there’s no way . . .”
Colby shook her head quickly. “No. It’s over.” He’d been clear about that and she had to accept it. She’d messed up. And if she did the story on air, it would be the final nail in the coffin. He’d never be able to forgive her.
“But you succeeded in getting the position you wanted. That should make you feel better, right?”
It should.
“Yeah. I’m glad I was able to get something so soon. Now I can stay in Vegas,” she said, sipping her coffee. This was where she needed to be. This was what she’d wanted—the job close to her family. But all of a sudden, being in Vegas made her chest ache. So close yet so far from Dane.
Not to mention the view of planes taking off over her new office every day was a cruel, constant reminder of him.
“You don’t have to,” her mother said, quietly.
She frowned. “Don’t have to what?” She’d already explained to her mother why this story was so important . . . yet, admittedly, she’d been also trying to convince herself she was doing the right thing.
“Stay in Vegas.”
Her mother’s response surprised her.
She obviously knew what staying and accepting this job meant.
But it didn’t matter. Stay or go, she’d lost Dane. And that day’s scare with her father just reconfirmed her decision.
“Mom, I’m staying. I love being closer to all of you,” she said with a forced smile.
Her mother was full of concern as she squeezed her hand. “We all make mistakes, sweetheart. If Dane was able to learn to forgive himself and move past things, you should be able to as well. And who knows, maybe in time he’ll come around.”
She shifted in the seat, grateful for her dark sunglasses as tears brimmed in her eyes. The note of hopefulness in her mother’s voice was something Colby wished she could feel, but despite how badly she wanted Dane in her life, she refused to believe there was a chance for them.
* * *
Everything was exactly the same as always. The walk to the cage, the sound of the fans cheering, his walk-out music echoing in his chest. He felt confident, sure, ready to fight.
He climbed into the cage, just like every other time.
And then the stadium went dark, the music stopped, and he could no longer see his training camp in his corner. He was alone in the cage . . . and then the cage door opened.
He knew what was coming next because he’d had this nightmare every night for almost a year. But this time it wasn’t Marco Consuelos or his tearful son, or his angry wife standing across from him.
It was Colby.
His blood ran cold and his legs were frozen in place. His arms lay heavy at his sides, and the lights were so bright they blinded him as he squinted to see across the cage.
Colby was grinning, but any amusement or pleasure fell short of her eyes. It was a mocking grin. The same one he’d seen from his mother so many times before. The one that said he was a nobody, an idiot to believe he could ever escape his past and be more. That he could ever move beyond the demons plaguing him and find peace.
“You really thought I cared about you?” she said, raising her gloved fists.
His arms were cement blocks now. His brain was screaming, but his lips refused to move. He was defenseless against her attack—physically, verbally, emotionally.
“You really thought someone like me would fall for someone like you?” she asked, throwing the first jab. It connected with his jaw, snapping his head back, but the impact didn’t rock him nearly as much as the words.
“You were a nobody, Dane, until you killed a guy inside this cage. Then you became a monster—a symbol of everything that’s wrong with this sport.” Jab. Right hook.
“And you need to be stopped before you hurt someone else.” She delivered an upper cut that sent him reeling backward toward the ropes, but they disappeared and he fell from the cage . . . and kept falling . . .
His heart racing, his eyes flew open. Sitting up, he tossed the sheets aside and rested his elbows on his knees, struggling to catch a breath. By now, he should be used to the restless nights of troubled sleep, but the vision o
f Colby had destroyed him. Her words had cut through him like a serrated blade.
Standing, he made his way to the deck and, opening the door, he stepped out into the cool fall air, breathing it in. . . .
Would the nightmares ever stop? Or would his life continue to be one disappointment after another?
Chapter 15
Colby scanned her new office. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, a large mahogany desk and leather chair. Just like the office she’d had in Seattle. Everything she’d wanted, and had worked hard to prove she deserved. But everything felt like it was coming at too high a price.
She’d agreed to do the story on her first live broadcast three days from now, and while usually after she’d made a decision, she felt better, this time she felt worse. So much was riding on this—good and bad, personally and professionally.
Sighing, she picked up one of her boxes of personal items from the floor and started unpacking.
Dane’s fight was the following evening and she was desperate to know if he was ready, if he felt okay, anything . . . but she knew there was no point calling him or texting him. He wouldn’t answer and the silence would only break her heart even more. So many times in the last few days she’d replayed their time together in her mind, searching for that perfect moment when telling him the truth and having him still want to stay with her would have been possible, but she couldn’t find one. The truth was, the moment she’d allowed him to believe she was an Xtreme Fight ring girl, she’d already lost him.
And she should have been smart enough to realize that and either walk away, once her feelings for him had started to grow, or tell him the truth from the beginning.
She’d done neither, and now she was paying the price for her mistake.
Her intercom buzzed. “Colby, you have a visitor,” the front desk receptionist, Shannon, said. “Should I send him up?”
A visitor. Him? Her heart raced and she forced herself to stay calm. It could be anyone—her father, one of her brothers . . . God, she hoped it was him him. “Yes, please.” She hurriedly emptied the box, setting up her desk as quickly as possible. Then she reached for the next box as the door opened. Turning, her eyes widened. “Hi.”
“Hi, Ms. Edwards. My name is Josh Consuelos,” the little boy said, walking shyly into her office.
She nodded. She recognized him from the photos in his home. “Is your mom with you?” she asked, looking past him out into the hall.
He shook his head. “She doesn’t know I’m here.”
Great. She wasn’t sure what was worse—a parent-ordered guilt trip or the kid acting on his own. They needn’t have bothered. She was already feeling so burdened with doubt over the idea of revealing what she knew about the Consuelos fight and Marco’s condition that she was ready to cancel the story. She cleared her throat. “Have a seat, please,” she said, her knees wobbly as she sat in her own chair.
The little boy sat, his feet barely touching the floor.
She knew he was ten or eleven. Too young to have come here alone. Obviously what he was here to say was important to him. “What can I help you with?”
“I know you’re doing a story about the Xtreme Fight League.”
She nodded. “That’s right.”
He opened his backpack and retrieved a folded piece of paper. “I want to help,” he said quietly.
“Okay,” she said, hoping to keep the sound of surprise out of her voice.
He gripped the paper, staring at it, as though struggling with whether or not he was doing the right thing.
She knew the feeling, and her heart went out to the poor kid. “It’s okay, Josh.”
He glanced up in surprise as though he’d forgotten where he was for a second. Then he handed her the paper. “This was a note my dad gave me . . . the night he . . . the night of the fight.”
Oh, shit.
There was already a lump in the back of her throat and she hadn’t even read it yet. She took a deep breath. “Josh, this note is very personal and special to you, I can see that, so you really don’t have to share this with me,” she said softly. Whatever was written there could potentially change the story, for better or worse.
“I want you to read it,” he said. “I want to help stop other people from getting hurt. Other families.”
“Okay.” Slowly, she took it and opened it and read. By the last line, she could feel tears sliding down her cheeks. Coworkers shot her questioning looks as they passed the glass office walls, more than likely wondering why the new girl was crying in her office on the first day, but she couldn’t help it. This note changed nothing for the story or for her.
But it could change everything for Dane.
* * *
Colby yawned, her eyes barely staying open as she made her way to her car after ten o’clock that evening, mentally exhausted from the events of the day. She removed her car keys from her purse and her heels clicked against the almost-empty staff parking lot.
Lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t hear anyone walking behind her, so the feel of a hand on her arm made her jump. Swinging around, she had the sharp edge of her car key in her hand. “Ashton? What are you doing here?” she asked nervously, hoping her station-employee key card hanging around her neck wasn’t visible beneath her suit jacket. Soon enough everyone at Xtreme Fight would know she wasn’t a ring girl, but right now, in a dark, empty parking lot wasn’t the way she wanted Ashton Bennett to find out.
“What were you doing in there?” he asked, his grip tightening on her wrist.
She glanced around the dark lot, but there was no one else around. “I was visiting a . . .”
He reached forward and grabbed the key card.
Damn.
“Don’t bullshit with me. You work here?” he asked, his voice threatening.
She nodded, glancing around again. Was she the only freaking person who always worked late? Work ethic, people!
“And you’ve been snooping around my organization?”
“Your father’s organization,” she said, keeping her voice steady. How on earth had he discovered who she was, anyway? She wiggled her arm, trying to free it from his grasp, but his hold only tightened.
“My future company.”
She wouldn’t count on the company having a future, but she remained silent.
His eyes narrowed. “You know, I thought I recognized you from the side of that stupid-looking Get Fit Las Vegas van driving around town . . . but without the unibrow, I wasn’t sure. Then you didn’t show up for the fights last weekend and I talked to Ella and Lucy.”
She sighed. She was busted. The other girls had never fully believed she enjoyed being a ring girl.
“Look, I won’t have you sneaking around, doing whatever it is you slimy reporters do . . .”
“Slimy reporters?” Seriously? “Your organization has a history of breaking so many regulations and codes, ignoring medical suspensions, canceling contracts . . .” She could go on.
He yanked her forward and she stumbled on her heels. “Don’t pretend like you know anything,” he hissed. “That could be very bad for you.”
Colby’s eyes narrowed and her hand clenched around the key. She widened her stance, stabilizing herself a little better in her stilettos. “Let go,” she said firmly.
Ashton smirked, glancing around. “Or what? Listen to me. Stay away from my organization and keep your fucking mouth shut,” he said, his eyes dropping to her lips.
Her heart picked up speed as he held her in place, his eyes taking on a new look—one that terrified her more than his hold or his threatening words. “Let go,” she said again. That way, he couldn’t say later she hadn’t tried to warn him. Twice.
He laughed. “I don’t think I will,” he said, pulling her even closer.
Thirteen years of Karate classes kicked in as she squatted down into a strong stance.
Then she leaned forward, bending her elbow toward him, all the way toward his forearm until he could no longer hold her wrist. Keeping all of her fingers straight and tightly together, her thumb tucked and slightly bent at the knuckle, she delivered a knife hand strike to the side of his neck. Then she followed it up with a thrust of her elbow into his throat while pitching the weight of her body toward him.
Ashton bent at the waist, gripping his throat as he coughed and sputtered. He spit and glared up at her. “What the fuck?”
“I told you to let go,” Colby said, her heart still pounding from the adrenaline rush as she stepped farther away from him, heading toward the safety of her car. The attack would only stun him for so long, and she wasn’t ready to go another round with a seasoned fighter. Her surprise attack was a one-shot deal.
He straightened and followed her as she picked up her pace, stopping short when she heard another voice to their right as Ashton caught up with her.
“She did say let go. Twice. I heard her.”
She turned in surprise to see Dylan. “You were here this whole time?”
“I would have stepped in, but you looked fine. Besides, someone needed to record you kicking the Xtreme Fight League’s welterweight champion’s ass.” He held up his phone.
She almost smiled.
“Asshole. I was just talking to her,” Ashton hissed.
“That’s not what it looked like from my point of view,” Dylan said, his voice hard.
She’d never heard the guy even close to angry before.
He advanced toward Ashton, still struggling to recover from her self-defense attack. “You ever threaten or go near Colby again, and this video goes viral.”
Ashton glared, looking ready to argue or continue the fight, but then he spit again and stormed off in the opposite direction.
Relieved, her shoulders relaxed. “Where were you hiding?” Colby asked as she headed toward her car.
“I came out the left side entrance,” Dylan said.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I wanted to see you kick that guy’s ass,” he said with a laugh. “You okay?” he asked.
Pushing the Limits Page 20
