Nothing could stop him.
Nothing could bring him down.
It was then, when he’d hit maximum speed, that his trainer walked through the gym’s door on the opposite side of the room. She held her tablet in her hand. He swore Daniella never went anywhere without it.
“How’s it going?” she said, approaching.
“Good. Good run.”
Concern lined her face as if she didn’t believe him.
“I stuck to the plan,” he told her, calming her nerves. “Despite the hiccups and delays, I worked out as scheduled.”
“I know you’re ready. That’s not what I want to talk about.” Mike slowed his run to better focus on his trainer.
She propped her back against the wall and, still holding the tablet, crossed her arms in front of her. “You know. When Jack and I first got back together, Shakes advised me not to get too close. Jack had a track record, one everybody knew. Hearing his warnings about Jack only made me want him more.”
His jog slowed even more, down to a very fast walk. “You’re here to warn me away from Ava?”
Even he had to admit he thought better of Daniella than that. She of all people understood feelings and emotions. Her life before boxing was rooted deep in sports psychology.
“I’m not saying stay away from Ava, because I see the good she’s done for you.”
“How so?” His jaw clenched.
“You’re more open, receptive. I was so afraid that because of how much you regimented yourself, you were going to allow life to pass you by.” Daniella flashed an easy smile. “You finally opened up to someone and that’s fantastic.”
His walk slowed, then stopped, and he stepped off the treadmill. She handed him a towel, and he dried the sweat rolling down his neck. “So why am I detecting some hesitation here?”
“Opening up to someone like Ava comes with a price, and I assumed you knew that.”
He cocked his head to the side, perplexed.
“Look. She’s not the kind of reporter we all thought she was, okay? I told her some things, stuff that happened long ago, and she’d didn’t run it in the next news cycle. She respected my privacy. My ex tried to contact her and fill her head full of nonsense, and Ava didn’t bite.”
“I can tell you care for Ava, and I’m not asking you to explain what happened between you two since you left Las Vegas.” Daniella moved off the wall and walked toward Mike.
“Then what is it? I don’t get it, Daniella, and I don’t mean any disrespect, but for someone who says they’re happy I’ve found someone, you don’t look it.” He dropped the towel on the floor. Maybe she was just being cautious. Protective. Motherly. Granted, they were as tight as family, but he was an adult. He could date who he pleased.
“I don’t know what you want from me, Daniella. Ava and I are together and there’s nothing more to say.”
She let out a long sigh. “I know it doesn’t look like it, but I’m happy for you, Mike, I really am. And I don’t need any explanations of how this thing with you and Ava happened. It’s good, really.”
The frown on her face told him otherwise.
“But there is something I need you to tell me.”
He shrugged. “What?”
She stretched out her arm and offered him her tablet. “The only thing I need you to explain is this.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Mike blew a rush of air from his nostrils. He took the tablet from Daniella’s hand and looked down. He read the headline of the New York Post. The Post was a fucking rag. Who read this shit? He allowed his eyes to rake over the words. Perez’s Ex-Girlfriend Reacts to Heroic Claims.
Then he answered his own question. Who reads this shit? Everyone.
Acid threatened to shoot up his throat. “What the fuck is this?”
“Tiffany found a reporter to do her dirty work, but only after Ava ran an article about you,” Daniella said. “Tiffany’s story has started trending.”
He clicked the link to Ava’s article. He read in silence. Hero his ass. He didn’t need to be the focus of some poor-kid-turns-famous type of story, and she’d even gone so far as to mention his brother. Shit. This wasn’t a subtle recollection of his past. This was blatant betrayal. She included the stuff he’d told her in private when they were in bed. She’d gone so far as to mention his brother by name, and that was far enough. He’d said that specifically was off the record, even if she used the other shit.
“The story didn’t play big in the Vegas Times. It looked like they tried to bury it on the third page of the sports section.” Daniella’s voice didn’t waver. “But it was all Tiffany needed to get someone to pay attention to her. Lies or no lies, this isn’t good.”
Rage welled inside him. Tiffany. That no-good, fame-seeking bitch. It was what she’d wanted all along, probably from the day they met. She’d surmised that he was going places, and thought she’d tag along for the ride. As long as she was his girl, things were good, but the second he turned her out, she plotted her revenge. All to make a name for herself.
And Ava.
She used him, too. The first person he opens himself up to, and what does she do? She betrayed him. An acidic ball rolled through his stomach. Every muscle in his body tightened. But hard muscles and acid stomach didn’t compare to the sinking feeling in his chest, like he was drowning.
He loved Ava. Or, he thought he did. A rush of air blew from his nostrils. His jaw started to quiver, but he clamped his mouth tight, not to let his emotions get the best of him. It was a shitty lesson to learn that everyone who chose to associate with him was out for themselves.
First Tiffany, now Ava.
Disgusting.
“I need a few minutes,” he told his trainer, bringing the article into clear view.
Perez’s Ex-Girlfriend Reacts to Heroic Claims by Josh Johnston
Like beauty, heroism is also in the eye of the beholder. And, being the long-time girlfriend of middleweight boxing’s rising star Michael Perez, Tiffany Longoria opened her eyes and saw the truth.
“Michael Perez isn’t the guy he claims to be.” Longoria says, “He purposefully and deliberately supported his brother selling drugs. He grew up a gangbanger and became a violent man. I consider myself lucky that I got out of our relationship without being physically harmed.”
Mike ground his teeth as he read.
Longoria urges caution to those who patronize the Stamina Gym. “I know they offer youth classes at the gym, and I think it’s important for parents to know who they are trusting with the care of their children. I wouldn’t want my son or daughter spending time with someone who has had such easy access to drugs.”
Times with Perez weren’t always bad. “He can be a nice guy, especially when he needs something.” But the good times didn’t last long. Still today Longoria appears visibly shaken recounting her year-long relationship with Perez. “During his childhood, he may have helped the police shut down a gang, but it was too little too late. He said he did it to keep from going to jail. I don’t see the heroism in that. I see selfishness and self-protection.” His former girlfriend recounts stories of verbal abuse and neglect. She claims there were times he would go days without speaking to her. Perez was emotionally abusive. When he thought she may break off the relationship, he’d make things right again. “He used me for money. He made my buy his food and pay his rent.” She claims Perez used her for financial support throughout his career and she plans to seek repayment. “I financed him. He owes me. It’s as simple as that.”
Perez will fight Marlon Littleton on October 4th, at Madison Square Garden. Longoria doesn’t plan to watch the bout, but did have opinions about his upcoming match. “I think a real champion believes in boxing and has passion for the sport. Marlon Littleton is that champion,” Longoria says, unfazed, “no matter who wins in the ring.”
Was. She. Fucking. Kidding with this shit.
The article extended for another page, but Mike stopped reading. He’d exceeded his tolerance for
bullshit for one day.
He looked up from the tablet. “Daniella, this is ridiculous.”
“I know.” She reached out and placed her arm on his shoulder. “It’s given us something else we need to prepare for during tomorrow’s press conference. The media isn’t going to let this die.”
Mike lifted his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. His shoulders tensed. Stress sprawled through his body. Fuck. He wore his anxiety like a second layer of skin. Tiffany’s motivations rolled around his mind. Money. Access. Visibility. The woman was a real piece of work.
“What can we do?” His shoulders slumped.
Daniella stood for a moment. Silent. He liked how she planned one, two, and sometimes three moves ahead. At Jack’s press conference before he won the title, they’d learned to expect camera flashes and tough questions, but Jack, hell, he could handle anything. Mike, on the other hand, he was no Jack Brady. He didn’t possess Jack’s “fuck it” attitude. He couldn’t just let things roll off his back.
“You just have to tell the truth, and get ready to divulge it all, if you have to.”
A sour taste filled his mouth. He dreaded exposing his past, but most of it was already out there, and Daniella was right. He’d have to tell his side before the press used his past to blow his history out of proportion.
Boxers weren’t strangers when it came to trouble. The press always capitalized on the ones who really fucked up, and why shouldn’t they? The sport had a history of attracting people with problems. Substance abuse plagued featherweights like Johnny Tapia who spent time in prison. He had his addiction spread all over the sports pages until he was no longer feared in the ring. He was pitied. And that was the death knell for a fighter.
Middleweight James Kirkland landed in the clink for armed robbery in 2003. No matter how hard Ann Wolfe, his trainer, tried to keep James out of trouble, he always wound up behind bars.
Then, there was the fucked-up case of Ike Ibeabuchi. How could he forget it? The heavyweight got busted in Vegas, right in his backyard. Ibeabuchi claimed he was possessed by demons and raped a call girl near the Vegas Strip. Horrific and devastating, his act kept Vegas locals on edge until he was arrested.
Mike shook his head. These were the bad guys of boxing. These were the offenders who didn’t deserve to see the light of day. But not him. Not Mike.
How dare Tiffany put him in the same category as these criminals? Offering his past up to the press like a sinful buffet. Take what you like, boys. It’s all there for your selection. Bitch.
And then, there was Ava. Her role in this mess sickened him. How could she? Was this how she treated someone she cared about? Did she take a lesson out of her father’s playbook and become void of any emotion? Or, did she really not care about anyone but herself? He could’ve kicked himself for trusting her. Stupid. He’d put his dick before his common sense, like a freaking high school boy, and got careless. He’d always kept himself in check, always, until she got in his SUV and he lost all control.
His hand balled into a fist, thinking back on the whole clusterfuck.
The real kicker was that he cared about her. He thought he loved her. At least he hadn’t gone ahead and told her so. If she knew he loved her, that he’d opened himself up and felt vulnerable, who knew what else she’d use against him.
Just as he’d thought from the beginning, she sought out to destroy his career to advance hers. There were no words for how he felt, only heartache and loss. She’d played him, ruined him, just like she’d planned.
Air left his lungs. His first press conference suddenly went from one of the events he’d spent his life waiting for to feeling as if he were about to be fed to a pack of dogs.
He knew they’d dig. He knew they’d take. The press would make him out to be whomever they wanted. Gangbanger. Drug dealer. Thug. A sense of helplessness flooded him. The media would damage his reputation, and turn the most private part of him inside out.
He had no choice but to let them.
And it was all Ava’s fault.
Chapter Thirty-two
“I guess we’d better plan on ordering room service,” Jack said flatly.
Mike read the look on his face. No one had prepared for the storm brewing downstairs.
“Those damn vultures are set up in the lobby, waiting for Mike to come down.” Shakes paced around Jack and Daniella’s bed.
He didn’t know where Ava was, and he wasn’t about to go and look for her. He needed more time to prepare for how a conversation with her was going to go. Did she know the extent of the damage she’d caused? Did she care?
He had to get his emotions in check before he faced her again.
“We’re not hiding from them. The press isn’t going to keep us hostage in our own room,” Daniella stated. “They want to pit Mike’s word against Tiffany’s to drum up negative feelings for him. Mike is favored to win. And no one likes to see Littleton’s throne being threatened.”
“You think Littleton’s people had something to do with this?” Jack asked.
“I don’t know.” Daniella placed a hand on her hip. “But it seems pretty convenient, doesn’t it? Two days before the fight and suddenly the focus isn’t on Mike’s ability, it’s on his past.”
“I disagree.” Mike sat down on the bed. “This is all Ava’s doing. I should’ve known she would use me to make a name for herself. I never should’ve gotten involved with her in the first place.”
Jack tapped him on the shoulder. “Yeah, it used to be me whose dick got him in trouble.”
“Thanks for passing the torch, bro,” Mike said, with as much amusement as he could muster.
“Now it’s your girl who’s got everyone on edge,” Jack said.
“She was just doing her job.” He shook his head, thinking about what he said. Why was he protecting her? Mike Perez, always in defensive mode, rescuing people in the wrong since 2003. It was hard not to get cynical.
“Well, she got the ball rolling, and it rolled over you, man.” Jack scrubbed a hand over his face.
Jack was right, but Mike didn’t concede. He’d only gloat anyway.
“What are we going to do about the problem downstairs?” Shakes asked, breaking the tension. “The last thing you need, Mike, is a media frenzy right before you step in the ring.”
Mike agreed. He needed quiet. Time to focus and prepare his fight plan. “Maybe I should go down there and talk to them. Give them what they want, and then they’ll go away.”
“No. They won’t.” Daniella’s cell phone rang. “Stay right there.” She walked out into the hall to answer.
Shakes wet his lips. Anxious didn’t describe the look on the old man’s face. With a deep crease carved into his forehead, he passed his hand through his thinning hair. No. He didn’t wear just a nervous look. Deep concern rested on his heart. As Shakes’s eyes widened, Mike absorbed his worried expression.
Shakes sat down on the bed. “We’ve all done things we’re not proud of. Me. I’ve had a problem with gambling most of my life. For a while there you couldn’t keep me out of the OTB. Even now, if you and Jack were taking bets to see who could run to the end of the hallway first, I’d itch to lay money down, but I wouldn’t, because I’m a changed man.”
Jack nodded, agreeing. “I’m the fucking poster child for fuckups. Thank God for Daniella.”
He knew what they were trying to say without actually saying it. Everybody made mistakes. He knew that, though. He never claimed to be perfect. What grilled his nerves was that in bringing his past out in the open and exposing his affiliation with gang life, Tiffany’s article would reinforce the shame his mother carried for him in her heart. The same shame he woke up to every day and that left him only when he closed his eyes to sleep. He was a fuckup, a failure, and now everyone would know his humiliation.
Ava had tried to tell him that once she failed to bite, Tiffany would find someone to tell her cockeyed story, but it was Ava’s article in the Times that kicked the whole thing off. On some le
vel he knew this was coming, but he’d chosen to ignore it. How could he have been so blind? The thought gave him pause—if he’d been blind about her, what else could he have missed?
Good Lord, he was dumb.
What did hanging out with the same type of woman say about him? Tiffany and Ava, weren’t they the same? Subconsciously, he continued to choose the same kind of woman, one who was out for herself and stepped on people to get what she wanted. He’d missed the similarities before, but he saw them so clearly now. How stupid was he?
Before he went for another round of beating himself up, Daniella walked through the door, her face plastered with a frown.
***
He’d witnessed his trainer feeling low. When she’d lost her father it had seemed as if she may never smile again. As she worked her way through her grief, each day she improved and slowly came back to life. He could tell, not only by her energy level but by how each day the pained expression on her face eased.
She wore that same pained expression entering the room. She looked like her heart hurt, as if a thousand pins and needles perforated her chest. “Everything’s fine.”
He didn’t believe her. Daniella protected her boxers like a mother hen. Even though her cool, calm demeanor didn’t change, her stoic expression told him something happened, and it wasn’t good.
“Don’t go downstairs. If you need something, call me or Shakes. Plan on ordering room service. Tomorrow is going to be a very long day.”
“What about my morning run?” Mike asked.
“I’ll reserve the gym again. You can use the treadmill, and if you’re up for it, you and Jack can do some light sparring before the press conference. Don’t overexert yourself.”
He nodded. “Can I have a word?” He looked over at Jack, and then added, “In private.”
Daniella gestured toward the hallway and he followed her from the room.
Going The Distance (Ringside #2) Page 16
