“Baby, we all make mistakes.” She kept her voice soft.
“Those papers say some pretty heavy shit.” He didn’t wait for her to respond. “I was arrested for assault. I tied the guy’s hands behind his back and knocked the living hell out of him, and I kept beating him until there was nothing but blood and bone.”
Her stomach rolled.
“I beat the guy in the park, near a playground. Kids saw that shit. Little innocent kids.”
Recalling the memories, he looked like he was going to puke.
“Someone watching called the cops, and I got what I deserved. But I never told anyone why I did what I did.”
“No?” she squeaked out. “Why?”
“Street justice. The motherfucker had followed José home. He waited until my brother left and, thinking that my mom was alone in the house, broke in and threatened her. He pulled a knife on her, then he demanded to know where the money was, the cash he believed José had stolen from him.”
Ava drew in a sharp breath. “That’s awful.”
“Mom didn’t know shit. The whole thing took her completely by surprise. It terrified her.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?” Then, she thought about what she said. Stupid question. “Because you couldn’t run the risk of José getting busted.”
“Somehow my brother and I convinced our mom it was all a case of mistaken identity. We lied our asses off, knowing all too well we’d enforce a little retribution on him for scaring the shit out of Mom.”
“Your retribution got you arrested.”
He nodded. “When the cops came I told José to run like hell. I got pinched and that was okay with me.”
She let out a lengthy sigh. He did all the wrong things for the right reasons. Protecting his brother. Defending his mother. Those were things anyone would naturally do. But how he went about it, not following the law, and not understanding how actions from the past can affect his future and ruin him was wrong.
“And school?” she pressed. “You were kicked out of school at sixteen.”
Again he gave a slow nod. “Stupid. Back then I made one dumb decision after another. By then José had already been kicked out. He was working the streets, making scores. And he was like, ‘I need you, man. I need you, man. Somebody’s gotta have my back. Someone I can trust.’ So, I purposely caused one fight too many, and the principal showed me the door.”
She cleared her throat. “So you got yourself kicked out to protect your brother.”
“Yeah. I started a lot of fights. I didn’t need someone from school coming around asking why I wasn’t in class, upsetting my mom, wandering into a scene, and possibly getting hurt. If I got thrown out, I was nobody’s problem. And nobody’d get hurt by walking into our territory trying to hunt me down.” He shook his head. “I see it now for what it was. A fucked-up line of thinking to do what I thought was right.”
Nervous jitters weaved through her belly. His story wasn’t something that could be explained away. If she reported on the arrest papers, word would get out that he was violent in front of children. How would parents who brought their kids to Stamina react? No one would want their kids taught by a former gang member with a violent past. He fought on purpose to get kicked out of school, not only to protect his brother, but to protect whomever from the school that would come looking for him.
Fucked-up line of thinking indeed. How could she report what she knew without ruining him? Thank God she had several hundred miles to go to figure it out.
Chapter Twenty-five
The long ride had given Ava time to think, and they arrived in Springfield, Ohio, right on time. The GPS on her phone rattled off directions. Turn right on Elm. In one hundred feet, make a left turn on First Avenue. She did as the mechanical voice commanded. Along the way, Mike had named her GPS Rosie, after the robot maid from The Jetsons.
“When we were kids, who would have thought we’d take orders from a robot voice just like poor George Jetson.” He laughed. “Poor bastard.”
Ava laughed. “I’m ready for a Johnnycab from Total Recall,” she said, thinking of her favorite futuristic movie. She wouldn’t refuse a metal man with a voice more annoying than Siri to take over the driving for a while.
He reached out and touched her shoulder. “Thanks for driving, babe. I know you must be tired.”
She passed her hand through her hair. “I’m spent.”
Ava turned the wheel and followed Rosie’s computerized voice to their hotel. Nothing romantic about this place, she thought, pulling into the parking lot. Just a run-of-the-mill Holiday Inn. The SUV rolled to a stop.
“We made it. Finally.” She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Thirteen hours and seven minutes.”
“One more long day tomorrow, a stop in Pennsylvania, then we can cruise up to New York. Thanks for hanging in there.” He unbuckled his seat belt to lean over and kiss her, nice and sweet.
“You’re welcome. I can’t wait to have a shower and a nice long nap.”
They got out of the SUV and made their way through the automatic doors to the front desk. No Caleb. Just a girl in her twenties, checking in guests and answering phones.
The girl’s eyes focused on Mike as he walked to the desk.
“May I help you?” She flashed him a professional smile.
“Yeah, there’s a reservation. Prepaid. A room for Mike Perez.”
Her fingers clicked the keyboard. “Yes. I have two rooms actually. It looks like one is for you, and I have another king-size for Ava Phillips.” The girl glanced at Ava.
“You can cancel that. We only need one room.”
“Of course.” After a few keystrokes, she produced two room keys and directed them to room 223.
Mike carried the bags. Ava found the room and let them inside. Just like any chain hotel, the room housed a king-size bed, desk for working, mini refrigerator, and lots of clean towels.
Ava flopped down on the bed. “Do you mind if I stay here while you spar?”
He lifted his chin, affronted. “You don’t want to go?”
“I want to go, but it’s been a long day. I still have to check in with Ed. I have work to do.”
He stood back from her, sizing her up. “This isn’t about work. This is about Chad Murphy and those guys over at Powerhouse, isn’t it? You are scared to walk in there after what happened.”
Her mouth dropped open. Damn. She hated when he was right. “They don’t like me and I don’t want there to be any fallout. You need to train. I’d only be a distraction.”
His lips split in a smile. “You’re worried about me. Don’t. You couldn’t do anything to bring me trouble. I won’t let it.” He closed the distance between himself and Ava. Snaking his hands around her shoulders, he pulled her to him and squeezed. “It’s a paid sparring match. Nobody’s going to do anything or say anything.”
“Fine.” She giggled, letting her body press harder into his. He dipped his head to hers and she kissed his lips. “A quick check of my email, and a shower, and a change of clothes, and I’m all yours.”
***
Ava made a face as Mike drank down the last of the protein powder. “Yuck, what’s that taste like?”
Mike looked inside the cup. “I’d love to tell you it tastes like a milkshake. It doesn’t, but you get used to it.”
She’d made the concoction after his twenty-minute power nap, allowing him more time to rest and mentally prepare for Chad Murphy. She wished she could’ve done more than watch him sleep, but he had a sparring match to rest up for, and she doubted Murphy was going to go light.
Taking the cup from his hand, she washed it out in the small hotel sink.
Sparring was too important to show up unprepared. Even Ava knew Mike had to be rested, hydrated, and free from minor distractions, like hunger.
So what’d that make her?
Should she go to the sparring match? The fact that she considered it seemed crazy. Murphy’s people hated her. Then again, maybe that was the pl
ay.
She thought about Mike and how he considered his opponents. He knew all about Littleton, right down to the fight plan. He’d even called him . . . emotional.
Standing at the sink, she looked at herself in the mirror. Why didn’t she see it before? Mike was planning to bring her into the Powerhouse gym to cause an emotional reaction in Murphy, make him lose focus. Shake him up. Why? Because the only way to prepare himself for anything that could happen was to practice the same way.
Littleton lost control when he got emotional in the ring, and Mike and the team from Stamina were betting that Murphy would do the same.
It wasn’t a bet.
It was brilliant.
Ava dressed a little faster now. She jumped into a pair of jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt. Running a brush through her hair, she left her tresses long and flowing.
By the time she exited the tiny space between the sink and the closet, Mike pulled his sweatpants over a pair of shorts. Then he layered his T-shirt and hoodie over it to keep his muscles warm. He shoved the rest of his boxing gear in his bag and prepared to make the quick trip over to Powerhouse.
“I’m glad you’re going. Don’t worry. Those guys probably won’t remember who you are.” He ushered her from the room, and like it or not, they found themselves heading back to his Pathfinder that was beginning to feel more and more like home. Road trips tended to do that.
She plugged the street address into her phone and within seconds Rosie’s dry voice readied to guide them. She followed the directions and in ten short minutes parked in front of Powerhouse Boxing Club.
Mike got out and they were met by two big guys standing at the door. She closed in behind him and grabbed his hand.
“I’m Mike Perez. I’m here to spar,” he told one of the guys at the door.
The man was huge. Dressed in black, the guy was no doubt some sort of security guard. Ava looked down the street before they were granted permission to come inside. The area didn’t look like a bad neighborhood. But boxing was boxing. Not all gyms were as clean as Stamina in operations or in reputation. There was no telling what happened behind the gym doors besides boxing.
“Who’s the chick?” the man in black said, staring them down.
“She’s my girlfriend,” Mike responded. “Are we sparring, or what?”
The doorman held up a hand and gave Ava the once-over. “You can come in, not the girl.”
Mike locked eyes with Ava. He started to proceed inside and the doorman blocked him. “I’m here to spar. All this was set up with your people and my manager, Daniella Chambers.”
He nodded once. “There was no mention of any women in attendance. Sorry. She stays out.”
Mike’s nostrils flared. “She’s not bothering anybody, and she’s with me.”
“Look,” the doorman said, “if you want to come in and spar, do it. But she stays out here. Your girlfriend can wait in the car.”
Mike’s nostrils flared. “She’s with me.”
The man in black looked up one side of the street, then down the other, and leaned in toward Mike. “Look, buddy. I know who she is and I can guaran-fucking-tee you Murphy knows who she is. I’m doing you a favor.”
“Fuck’s going on?” Murphy walked up behind the guard. “Fuck’s she doing here?”
“It’s fine,” Ava said, backing away from the doorway. “I’m leaving.” She moved back toward the SUV and Mike followed. If that’s what Mike wanted, to bring her along and get Murphy riled up, it had worked—the security guy was holding Chad back. Her part here was done.
Mike balled his hand into a fist. “What’s the matter, Murphy? You got something against reporters?”
“I’ll take the Pathfinder and go back to the room.” She headed straight for the SUV, and Mike followed.
“Good. Keep the doors locked.”
She raised a hand, pressing her palm against his chest, and whispered, “Nice job getting him to lose his shit. He’ll stay off-balance just like Littleton.”
Mike grinned. “This is why I had to bring you along.”
She planted a quick kiss to his lips.
“Meet you back in the room in forty-five minutes,” he told her.
“Baby.” She met his voice with a smile. “You’ll knock him out in ten.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Ava returned to the hotel room and set up her laptop. She had so many emails from Ed she didn’t know where to start. When he wasn’t turning up the heat by phone, he sent her reminder messages. Her article was due. Her job depended on it. Message received. She just didn’t know how she was going to frame up the piece. Mike’s past wasn’t anything like she’d expected. Sure, she’d known he didn’t come from wealth and privilege, but she never imagined the life he’d had. He didn’t deserve the scandal her usual type of article could bring.
Ava opened a document. She wanted to try something a little different this time. Something better. Framing the article up in her head, she wanted to write down everything she knew about Mike Perez first. This piece wasn’t intended for publication. He was a perplexing man and had lived through such trauma, getting his story written down, using all the facts she’d learned, was the best place to start sorting it out. She could adjust it so it was publishable later, after she got things settled in her head.
She couldn’t imagine how his childhood must’ve been, years of innocence lost. Knowing what he and his brother saw, they probably had no childhood at all. For her, growing up around fear and violence was unthinkable. Granted, her upbringing wasn’t picture perfect. She and her mother went through hell after her father left. He walked out, took all the money, and left them to start over. She’d climbed back to the surface after devastation, but not the way Mike had.
Then it hit her. Troubled youth follows path to personal success. That was his real story. Nothing else mattered. In her eyes, Mike Perez was a hero. He’d survived gang violence and his brother’s death to become a middleweight boxing star.
There was no shame in that.
Ava started to type.
Perez’s Path to Success Paved in Blood by Ava Phillips
If you look at Michael Perez, the middleweight fighting star, you see a clean, efficient boxing machine. Because that’s what he is. According to his fight record, he rarely loses, and instead wins by knockout (TKO on his last fight by delivering a cut over his opponent’s eye). Perez is a coach’s dream, a fan’s crush, and his opponent’s worst nightmare.
After spending a week on the road with Perez, I learned that there’s more to the fighter than a regimented routine and a strict diet which consists mostly of protein powder. There’s the part you don’t see. The heart. And a passion for boxing that runs deep in his soul, and a childhood that got worse long before it became better.
Raised by a single mother and protective of his younger brother, José, Perez had a young adult life consisting of arrest records, school expulsions, and joining a neighborhood gang. “I did a lot of wrong things for the right reasons. I always had my brother’s safety in mind,” Perez says, contemplating his upbringing. His brother joined the Latin Boyz, a street gang in Miami, known for violence and drug activity. Perez fell in step with his brother, acting as his bodyguard.
As his brother worked his way up the ranks, it led both of the Perez brothers into dangerous territory, eventually costing José his life. “It’s not a past I’m proud of. I was a person who protected a drug dealer and gang member,” Perez admits.
Fueled by shame and regret, he heroically confessed the inner workings of the Latin Boyz to the authorities, shutting them down. He also adheres to a self-imposed exile from his family as penance for failing to save his brother’s life.
As he prepares for the upcoming fight against Marlon Littleton at Madison Square Garden, Perez has become increasingly more dedicated to the sport and his training. After riding hundreds of miles each day traveling the route from Las Vegas to New York, he resumes his workout as if he’d never left home. He remains stea
dfastly dedicated to his trainer and his gym, sparring the controversial fighter Chad Murphy in Springfield, Ohio, in preparation for Marlon Littleton. Yet, Littleton stays in the forefront of his mind.
“Littleton attacks right out of his corner. He’s a good boxer, but he lets his emotions get the best of him. I’m going to absorb his body blows and hold a good defense, then back him to the ropes and knock him out,” Perez says.
Fans wait with bated breath for the middleweight match of the century, but no matter who wins on October fourth, Perez became a champion and a hero long before he stepped into the ring.
For the next twenty minutes, Ava continued typing until the article felt complete. She sat back from her computer screen and reread the story from beginning to end. It wasn’t her normal reporting style. It was better. Truer. The piece was more in line with the reporter she wanted to be, and she didn’t have to air all of Mike’s dirty laundry to expose the hero underneath.
Too bad it wasn’t publishable. She couldn’t use pillow talk as a reference for a printed piece. She drew in a breath, expanding her lungs to their full capacity. Pride welled inside her after rereading what she’d written. For her, she couldn’t describe the feeling, but tears welled in her eyes once she looked past what she thought Mike was to see him for who he was.
The article wasn’t the puff piece she feared, nor was it the salacious column Ed probably hoped for. And, there was a good chance, a really good chance, that after her editor learned the new direction she wanted to take her career he’d deem her work unfit to print. Rags-to-riches success stories didn’t sell newspapers. If it bled, it led, and Ava was bound and determined not to let Mike Perez shed a single red drop.
Why? Because she loved him. She loved him even more knowing what he’d overcome to get where he was.
Ava’s heart lifted as Mike walked through the door. Amazed at how lonely she felt without him, she couldn’t wait to have him back and all to herself.
Going The Distance (Ringside #2) Page 13
