He shakes his head at me, giving me a heart-stopping smile that shows off his slightly crooked teeth. “I always knew you were a huge ass dork, but that shit you just said takes the cake, babe.”
“Yep, I know. That’s why you love me.”
“Damn right, woman, and it doesn’t hurt that you have great tits.” Reed turns his hat backward as he bends down, kissing my lips, and like always, it deepens, allowing our passion for each other to take over. After what seems like hours, I push off him. “Go, Reed. Call me when you are done. Court and I will meet you guys at Flats. Make sure you have my vodka soda waiting for me.”
He smiles, and lands one last peck on my lips before I take a step back. “Sure thing, babe, and this time, I may actually remember the limes. Maybe, if you’re a good girl, when we get back, I’ll take advantage of you a couple more times and after that and you can make the bruises I’ll get better,” he says smugly as his leg swings over his bike.
“Remember, actions speak loader than words, so you better just show me.”
Reed laughs. He snaps his helmet and sunglasses on, and then the roar of his bike sounds around me like thunder. I blow him a kiss and stand there, waiting till he speeds off until I can’t see his taillight anymore.
And just like that, I feel like the biggest part of my heart is missing.
Chapter 2
Reed
The vibrations of my bike beneath me amplify the knots in my stomach. Hadley should be on the back, wrapping her arms around my waist, helping to calm me. She’s been to every fight since we starting dating two years ago, and it’s killing me that she won’t be at this one. I didn’t tell her how big this fight really is. Didn’t tell her about the guys coming. Didn’t tell her shit. I wanted to be the only one stressed, be the one to have to carry the burden.
I know Hads, and if she knew what I’d been trying to do, she’d put all of her focus on me and my dreams, and school is too important for her to put it second to my shit. But my girl knows something isn’t right, she knows me. I have to kill it today, because if they like what they see, I can finally be the one to provide a life for us. I can start saving for our future and stop being the deadbeat boyfriend living off his girl. Living hand to mouth like I grew up isn’t what my life should be, nor do I want that for my Hadley. I need to get into the Mixed Martial Professional League to make the big money—and the endorsements that come with it—so we’ll never have to live that way. We’ll be able to live the life my girl deserves, and come from my bank account not hers. This is my utterly-impossible, once-in-a-fucking-lifetime chance to be able to do what I love and stand on my own two feet.
Meeting Hadley two years ago changed everything for me. I was only living for one thing—fighting. And then she walked into my life and blew that to shit. I’d been working security, making sure some rich SOBs weren’t being messed with as my eyes traveled the crowd and landed on the hottest girl I’d ever seen. She danced around the floor, laughing without a care at who watched. All other thoughts left me, and I couldn’t pull myself away from the vision of her.
She had on the tightest black dress and the sexiest pair of fuck-me heals. Her long, wavy, dirty blond hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, giving the most amazing view of her neck. Never had a neck been sexy to me before, but fuck, hers was. She had tanned legs that went on for miles, and that ass… When Hadley spun around, she gave me the best damn view of the sickest rack I’d ever seen—and I’ve seen a lot. Only one thought came to my mind, how amazing it would feel to have her tits pressed to my chest and those damn legs wrapped around me as she screamed my name for anyone to hear. But her eyes are what got me—striking blue, almost silver. They’d bored into me, showing an innocence I never knew existed and an unbroken smile that would bring me crashing down to my knees if I let it. I fucking knew that I had to have her, and I knew she would never be like any of the one-nighters I pulled. No…she’d definitely be more than that, and I could tell that by one glance. I wanted to show her the real me right then and there, the me I hadn’t shown another person since my mom walked out. I wanted that.
I tried to do the douche head nod and smile. Most of the girls I went for back then would come running to me if I did that to them, but not my girl. It only took one smartass sentence out of her mouth to prove that she was like no other girl out there. “What the hell is wrong with your neck? You look like you are having a spasm.”
She had me there—girls didn’t say no to me much.
As her mouth opened and her name rolled off her tongue, I wanted her to take it back, push that shit right back in. That beautiful, flawless girl that stood in front of me couldn’t be the little sister the Thomas brothers hid away from everyone with a dick. She couldn’t be. But she was, and I knew that. I had to walk away from Hadley before anything could start, before I could taint her with my ugliness. A girl that comes from Hadley’s family deserved so much more than a fuck-up from the south end that only gets by using money from underground fights and protecting people that had more money than God. But telling the ache inside my soul that proved to be useless. One drunken confession while hanging out with Matt after work, and I got his okay. He said he’d much rather it be me than the other fuckers she’d brought home. It came with one single threat, though. That if I ever broke her heart, my dick would never find another place to lay.
I was okay with that—I would never break her heart.
When she looks at me, I clearly see the fucking sureness she has in us. It’s obvious that she needs me as much as I need her—and I need her a lot. The never faltering love she has for me always screams to me, and it proves to me that she deserves more than what I can offer her. I have nothing to offer her, nothing to give her, not yet. But I fucking love my girl, and that shit won’t ever change. She grabbed a hold of my balls that day and never let go. Hadley is it for me.
I only have to prove that I’m it for her, too.
Hads’ family is Bill Gates kinda loaded—private plane, “holiday homes” in Vail and Hawaii, they spend more money shopping in one day than I make in six months. But they earned every single dollar through hard work and show each of their kids a kind of love that makes people like me jealous. The shit family I grew up in had been the complete opposite in every single fucking way. My father did nothing but drink, do drugs, beat the shit out of me, and tell me how big of a fucking waste of space I am. My amazing mom left for bigger things when I was six, only to die a couple weeks later. I come from a great line of fucking winners. Those reasons alone are why I have to make this work tonight, why I hold myself back from my girl. I have to prove to everyone that I’m more than a waste of fucking space.
I crack open the back door of the old gym, nod to a couple of other guys getting ready for their fights, and make my way to the locker room when I barrel into my steaming mad trainer, Kenny, in the dirty ass hallway. He’ll know what I did before showing up—what Hads and I always do before my fights. That bastard doesn’t understand how I could fall for one of those rich girls, and he never lets me forget it, either.
“You better be ready for this. The guys from MMPL are here, front row red side. You and Cal’s fight is the last, so go to the locker room, I’ll call you for warm-ups soon. Lance has been waiting for you—his ass can be on time, unlike you. Keep your head in it and you’ll show them you were born to do this. And stop being late over a fucking lay.”
“Whatever, just do what I pay you for, and it’s not to tell me who I can fuck.” Hadley is more than a place to get my dick wet and he knows that.
Kenny never yells, but you damn well know how he feels. He spits out every word he says, sending chills down my spine, but the fucker never yells, he doesn’t have to. I’m tall, but he hovers over me. He’s definitely not someone I would ever want to get into a fight with, that’s for damn sure, but he’s the best damn coach out there. The only problem is that he always has his nose where it doesn’t belong.
Growling to me, he says, “Where the fuck
did your balls go, huh? Last time I checked, that rich girl already has her perfect little life lined up and planned out. In case you need a damn reminder, you fucking don’t! You got too much riding on this fight to be pussy whipped right now. Hear me?”
Throwing it right back, I say, “Hadley is different and you damn well know that shit. Don’t judge her for being born rich when she’s never judged us for being born poor!” I sure as shit better beat this asshole tonight, all these fuckers want me to fail, to sweep my ass under the rug with the other losers that couldn’t make it.
I turn my back on him quickly and start walking away, shaking from the anger coursing through my veins. My feet stomp heavily through the locker room as I make my way to my locker in the corner. Lance is sitting on the bench, playing with his phone, and as soon as he takes one look at me, he knows something is wrong. He always does. I swear, he knows me better than I know myself. I guess that comes with being best friends since we were both ten. Some teenage asshat had tried to steal his shoes when we were walking home from school. I’d been smaller than the guy but, somehow, I thought I could still take him because I got my ass kicked by my dad daily. How wrong I was. The guy ended up beating the shit out of both of us and stealing both our damn shoes. One way or another, it bonded our friendship until it slowly became a brotherhood. Lance has been standing by my side ever since then.
I lift my eyebrows to acknowledge him.
“Dude, who pissed in your fucking pudding today?”
“Who do you fucking think? That asshole Kenny is running his damn mouth about Hadley again. Damn, he pushes my fucking buttons all the time.” I take my hat off, chucking it across the room with all the force I could muster. I hate how Kenny put my biggest fears about my relationship with Hadley in the open, hearing someone else say that she has her shit planned and I don’t brings the doubts to the fucking front and center of my mind. This is the shit—this here is why I can’t give Hadley my all yet.
I want to marry her, put a ring on her finger. But it’d be a cold day in hell before I pick out some cheap-ass diamond that she doesn’t deserve. I want to buy her a house and give her everything she’s ever wanted. And that won’t happen until I can get to where I need to be. That’s what all of this is for. The training, the busting my ass three times a day, the fucking punches to the face and bruises covering my body…it’s for her. It’s so that I can give her what she deserves.
“Listen, he gets you pissed with this poor and rich shit. I get it. It would get me mad, too. I know Hadley isn’t bothered by all this shit right now, but just think about it… Will it bother her years from now? Her having to support you with that cushy trust fund of hers? That’s why Courtney and I will only ever just be hooking up. People like you and me…we are the fling they have before they settle down. They’ll talk about how they used to screw a bad boy in college while they eat hundred-dollar lunches with other Botox bitches spending their husband’s money. We sure as shit don’t belong in their lives forever. I know that, but maybe it’s time for you to start thinking about that, too.”
I shake my head, my insides knotting up at the truth his fucking words hold. I keep telling myself…Hadley wouldn’t do that. She’s not like that. She doesn’t see money the way these fuckers do.
“You and Courtney are different. She’s the designer brand kinda girl, her family too. But Hadley and her family know what it’s like to be us, hell, they were us once. They don’t care what I do as long as I treat her right.” I’m saying the words but even I don’t believe them. I think of each time Hadley’s mom and dad has asked when I’ll start working with Matt full time. Every time Hadley talks about her future, it’s like hers is written in stone while mine is just blowing in the fucking wind. This isn’t happening, not tonight, not to me.
I fling my locker open so hard it ricochets off the one next to it. Mindlessly, I rip my T-shirt and jeans off, put on my boxing shorts, and shrug into my gray zip-up. The last thing I put on is the red hat Hadley had given me. Ever since she gave it to me, it has seen every fight as I walk to the cage and I’ve never lost with it on. I need this fucking connection to her. Hadley swears it’s this hat that brings me my luck, but fuck that shit— she’s my fucking juju.
Lance breaths in, tugging on his goatee. I’ve known him long enough to know he only does this when he is thinking about something heavy. Nothing good will come out of hearing it, but fuck if I can stop from asking him. “You want to say something, open your mouth and tell me.”
“Reed… Dude, I’m only telling you this now because I know it will help you tonight with everything going on. Did she even tell you she got an offer from a trauma hospital in Atlanta? Her dad’s partner is taking over the office up here full time, and the Thomas’s are going to take over the Atlanta office instead of splitting the time. William pulled strings and got Hadley her dream job down there, even before she graduates.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I growl at him, feeling the anger burn beneath the overwhelming sense of helplessness.
“Do you honestly think she will turn it down? All Hadley talks about is how she can’t wait to help people. She’d be stupid to turn it down. And where would that leave you? I see it one of two ways, man. Either she goes down there and leaves you here, in an apartment you can’t pay for…or she gives it all up for you. Her dream job, her family—all of it. For you. And what can you give her?”
Damn. Hadley wants nothing more than to be a nurse. It’s all she talks about. I knew this could happen with her graduation coming, but she said she would stick with me. I’ve been fucking dropkicked a lot, but this pain in my gut is far worse than anything that could happen to me in the cage. Hadley didn’t tell me about Atlanta, she held that secret in like I was nothing.
“Guessing from the look of pure terror on your face, you didn’t know.” Lance takes another deep breath before finishing. “Court said something last week about it, and Hadley’s parents told Court’s that they already bought her a townhome or condo in some new area. Sounds to me that the plan is already written and Hadley left you out of the equation.”
God, this can’t be true. How can Hads do this to me—to us? She knew I’d planned to wait on doing anything with my shit till she was done with her school. What would I do? Be the fighter that could’ve been? The guy that gave up the blood, sweat, the years of training to chase his girl? Because that’s what would happen, that’s what they’d say about me. Atlanta doesn’t have what I need to make it, not even close.
“Fucking mother fucking piece of shit!” After slamming my locker closed, I sit on the bench, put my ear buds in, and pull my hood over my head, blaring some Godsmack. My eyes close and I try desperately to even out my breathing. I’ve never been so thankful that my job is to beat the shit out of someone. Some fighters hate being pissed before a fight, they say never to do it, you lose your focus on what’s important, but that’s the exact opposite for me. It adds fuel to the fire, has me itching to focus all this self-loathing on the prize.
I pop open my eyes when Lance starts taping my wrists. All bullshit aside, I know he’s got my back, he always does. Lance finishes with my wrists and moves to the side so the official can look it over. Once he approves, he initials the tape and drops my wrists, letting them fall to my lap.
Lance slaps my shoulder. “You ready?” he asks, his voice wavering. I’m not in the mood for any new revelations about my fucking life right now. I’m more determined than ever to make it, and fuck…I need to do it alone. This shit inside of me isn’t good for her.
I move my neck from one side to another, cracking each joint as I stand. “Let’s start this motherfucking party.” I’ve spent eight long weeks training for him, for this fight. The tapes of Redman in the cage are intense and he’s a no-holds-barred fighter. I’ve got an advantage on him, though. His world wasn’t just knocked off its axis.
Lance and I leave to warm up with Coach.
Thirty minutes later, we listen as Redman’s name is announc
ed through the loud chatter around us. I watch as he sprints to the cage from his side of the gym, he pounds his chest, and then points one finger over to where I’m at, a cocky-ass smile on his ugly face. Redman wants to play, I’m all for it, mother-fucker.
The announcer starts my introduction. I jump up and down and shake my whole body out, letting the adrenaline charge me. “Weighing in at a hundred and ninety pounds, going for his twentieth straight win, fighting for Homes Gym…our very own, Reed Riiiiiiiikerrrrrrrr Collins.” I hear “Down with the Sickness” by Disturbed blare through the speakers of the gym, helping to drown out the crowd. Strobe lights flash in my face as I roll my shoulders up and down and clear my face of any emotion before walking the path to the cage. And then I make my way to the stairs with Lance and Coach behind me.
When I’m fighting, I’m by myself in the cage. Sure, I have my team, but when it comes down to it, I win or lose all by myself—one of the only sports that luck doesn’t have anything to do with winning. The burden in there is solely on me and my skills. It fucking grounds me, centers me. I find my peace and the doubts that always cloud my head fucking vanish. It’s my safe place. These eight walls made of chain link is my own version of home, my own cage inside me. People can watch, but you have to earn the right to step one fucking foot inside, and I’ve earned everything to get me here, to where I am right now. I need this fucking reminder of what this means today more than anything.
Like anytime I fight, I zone out, erasing all traces of Reed out of my mind and body the moment my body crosses through the doorway into the cage. I become Riker, the one people are scared of, the one that lives for beating people down, the one that breathes for the fucking chaotic rush when my fist first connects with a face. Inhaling and exhaling a couple of times while the official goes over the rules, I hit my chest twice—twice for my girl, twice because no matter what the outcome of this fight will be, we’ll always be those two fucking birds she’s always talking about.
Fighting to Start Page 2
