Hooked (The Submission Fighter Book 1)

by Sophia Hampton

  However, it wouldn’t be the last time she would bring it up. The rest of the week was incessant and not-so-subtle questioning about her plans for the weekend. Every time Caroline brought him up, Alice’s mind would instantly put her back there in the ring with him. Her face and body replaced his competitor. But instead of Micah brutally defeating her, the two would collide, their bodies hitting one another.

  As the days passed, the image of the two together became worse, more graphic. After their bodies fell with his on top of hers, Micah would rip the straps of her dress off with his unguarded teeth, leaving marks along her shoulder blades. His padded hand pinned hers to the hard mat with such skill she could never try to escape. As his head moved lower, stopping at her stomach, his caramel-colored eyes found hers. Then, he used his teeth to rip off her panties.

  By Friday, she had made up her mind. She would be at that MMA match. And she would find out just what made such a man so irresistible, so erotic to her.

  Chapter 5: “You’d Better Win”

  “Caroline! Come on! We’re gonna be late.” Alice stood in her apartment doorway with her borrowed heels tapping on the vinyl wood flooring.

  “I’m comin’, I’m comin’...” Caroline had been in the bathroom for the last hour prepping. Her insistence on being photo perfect was wearing thin on Alice’s frayed nerves.

  Making it worse was the sound of a car horn from outside their apartment. Jace had once again volunteered to chauffeur the girls. This time, it was Alice’s plan. She had managed to convince Caroline to play it coy and avoid Jace the rest of the week. It was a total change of pace for the girl who hadn’t spent a night alone in years. Yet, Alice knew that she could use Jace’s weakness and Caroline’s sexuality to seal a seat at the night’s match along with a ride.

  Caroline emerged from the bathroom looking irritated, yet gorgeous. The girl knew how to apply makeup, Alice would give her that. As she asked Alice to finish zipping up her black v-neck dress, Caroline said, “Y’know, you force me to go an entire week without any word to my new guy—and now, you’re the one rushing me? You have to be kidding.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m a horrible friend, and you’re a living saint. But I just want to get there on time.”

  “Bullshit,” Caroline spat, “you want to screw Micah the fighter. You’re not remotely interested in watching the matches.”

  “Oh come on, Caroline,” Alice retorted. “Do you have to be so… you about this? Let’s just go. It’s not like Jace isn’t outside waiting for us.”

  Caroline gave her a smirk as an olive branch. “Okay, well, before we go, let me take a look at you.” She lifted Alice’s arm high above her own head and daintily spun her around admiring her work. Once again, Caroline had picked out Alice’s wardrobe for the evening. Alice’s first choice had been a floral summer dress, but Caroline insisted she change into one of her own red micro dresses and a pair of her black strappy heels.

  Caroline seemed somewhat satisfied, but still added, “Damn, girl. What happened to Alice?” She ruffled through her handbag and tossed Alice a tube of lipstick. “But don’t forget this. It’s yours for the night. I have a feeling you’ll need it.”

  Alice ran to the mirror in her own bedroom and quickly applied the fire engine red lipstick. As she puckered, she took a moment to look at her own reflection. Caroline was right. What stood before her wasn’t the Alice from hours earlier. Jeans and a t-shirt were traded in for lotioned, naked legs and green eyeliner.

  It wasn’t just her appearance either. She truly felt different. It was as if the possibility of Micah in her life, even if just for tonight, had forced her to move out of her shell and into the real world. It was exhilarating and frightening. She wasn’t sure which of the two emotions she felt more. But tonight, she was going to run with it. Tonight, she was going to be MMA Alice.

  The two women quickly hurried down the stairs to meet an impatient Jace smoking a cigarette outside the running car. He took a long look at Caroline and then at Alice. Based on his wide grin and the way he popped his lips, Alice felt pretty confident that she had hit the mark with the night’s attire.

  As she looked into the back seat, she quickly noticed the three weren’t alone. She glanced in a panic at Caroline who ran to her side and whispered urgently, “It was the only way, Alice. He had to be there too, or Jace wouldn’t take both of us.”

  “I really wish you would have thought to warn me. If I would have known it was part of the deal, I would have bought my own ticket and taken a cab. What am I supposed to do now?”

  “Just go with it, okay? He’ll be fine. He’s perfectly innocent.” Caroline seemed so sure of herself, but she apparently had forgotten the whole story.

  Alice grunted as she scooted over on the black leather seat to face her date, once again. “Hey Pete. How are you?”

  “You look surprised to see me.” He looked her up and down with suspicious, accusing eyes. Obviously, he was reading into her more provocative clothing and seeing something he was not okay with.

  Jace sped off into the night. Alice sat in silence, as she listened to Jace talk about the night’s matches with Pete and an enthralled Caroline. Many times he reiterated that tonight was huge for his man. Sponsors were going to be there from all over the state; a huge purse was on the line; it was going to be streamed live on some major website, etc.

  And with each new addition to the match’s story, Alice’s heart filled with more and more flutters, as she remembered. You’d better win. She felt so silly saying it now. Surely, he wasn’t feeling the pressure of it. I mean, he just met her that one time. It’s not like she meant anything to him, at least anything worth worrying and fretting over.

  But in his own mind, Micah couldn’t help but disagree. From the moment he woke up, only one thing was on his mind: Alice. The woman in green was his personal siren, calling him to win at the mat tonight. And he could not resist her song.

  The drive to the match was excruciating. While he knew that she wouldn’t be there yet, he looked for her everywhere—down the arena’s darkened hallways, on his warmup jog around the parking lot, in the empty stadium. A few times, he thought he spotted her. A woman’s short black skirt and flats would prompt him to approach her only to turn away quickly from the scene when he discovered it wasn’t her.

  Micah returned to the locker room to begin the pre-match requirements. His weight was taken by an official who recorded it on a brown clipboard. His equipment was equally assessed, as the same man checked out his fingerless gloves, mouthpiece, guard, and his lucky black fighting shorts. Finally, as Micah’s info was checked off from the board, the rules were reiterated to him—despite the fact that he had been a league fighter for the last two years.

  The match was on. Now, all he had to do was wait for his turn in the ring.

  Of course, waiting wasn’t exactly easy for him. Patience was never his strength. Dean had not made it any easier with his not so gentle nagging. “C’mon, kid! Where are you? What are you thinking? Whatever it is, it ain’t this match, so stuff it down and FOCUS!” Dean had begun his routine shouting match with Micah.

  Obviously, Micah’s antics in the ring and training rooms this week had Dean running scared. His gray sweatshirt had visible sweat stains pooling around the arms, and his pacing, normally a part of his pre-match routine, had become noticeably worse. Occasionally, one of the trainers from All In Gym would peak their head in to wish Micah good luck or to update them on a sponsor they spotted in the mass of crowds gathering. In his usual fashion, Dean would chase them out, barking at the person like a dog defending his food bowl.

  “I’m going on a walk, Dean. I’m not just gonna sit around. I’ll be back before the first match starts.” Before his coach could protest or attempt to physically restrain him, Micah grabbed his headphones and phone from his equipment bag and strode across the room to the door. He took a few steps out into the hallway, soaking in the fresh air from a propped open metal door. The fresh summer air was what he nee
ded to clear his head, even if for just a second.

  The sounds of the arena on his left soon caught his attention. He spun around and jogged steadily toward the noise and lights. A few watchers remained standing outside the side door, as the lights inside dimmed and flickered a warning that the evening’s entertainment was about to start.

  Once inside the arena, he moved from section to section, scanning the crowd for her. She wasn’t in the same spot as she was last week. Nor was she hanging out with a girl who vaguely reminded him of that friend she was with at the bus. With each Alice-less section, he grew more irrationally anxious and angry.

  Here this woman, completely unimpressive compared to his other conquests, had somehow weaseled her way into his mind. Her flirtations had practically taunted him and drove him mad. And now, she wasn’t even there. He was about to lose one of the biggest matches of his life because of some chick he couldn’t even have if he wanted.

  He could feel the anger build up. But unlike most men, he didn’t try to tame it. Instead, he let it build, fueling the flame inside of him. He exited the arena the way he came in and headed back to the locker room. As he entered, he slapped his hands together with a rousing force that startled a distracted Dean.

  Micah shouted forcefully into the room, “I’m ready, man!”

  Dean smiled and tossed him his match shorts from his approved equipment pile. It was time for Micah to suit up.

  Alice’s anger was just about peaking with Micah’s. Caroline’s inability to get dressed on time had made the car late to get into the parking gates. Instead, they drove around mindlessly, as Alice fretted away the seconds, hoping and silently praying that the match ahead of Micah’s was running late. Her hands twisted nervously around her beaded fabric purse, as she grew tenser by the moment.

  On their third or fourth round about the lot, Alice had had enough. “Just drop me off Jace! I’m not sitting in this car any longer!” She shouted bitterly, not caring how she came across to her party. To her luck, Caroline agreed and practically begged Jace to let the ladies out. He relented, tossing Caroline their tickets.

  As he sped away angrily, Caroline grabbed Alice’s hands and took off on a jog shouting back at her, “I’m not letting you miss this. Screw them!”

  They entered the arena in time to see the victor be declared in the women’s match. The crowd was mingling, as the octagon was cleaned and prepared for the next round. Caroline texted Jace an update while Alice stood and searched the stadium for Micah. In the meantime, the teams for the next match entered the arena from the locker room.

  Her heart jumped from her dress, as she spotted his tattooed arms and body bobbing in and out of the crowd that flanked him. She couldn’t help herself, as she passionately shouted out his name once again. Over the boiling crowd, she knew he wouldn’t hear her, but for a split second, she saw him glance towards where she sat as if he could feel her presence. But he quickly put his head down, shook it gently, and entered the octagon with his coach and a trainer by his side.

  The announcer began his pre-show routine, wildly announcing the fighters, Micah and Jack Caller. Just like the last week, the crowd seemed to be almost all in favor of Micah’s opponent. And as Jace and Pete finally took their seats next to the girls, they too let out a yell in Jack’s favor.

  For Micah, being the underdog was almost as intoxicating as winning. With the crowd expecting Jack to take him easily, he had a lot to fight for regardless of Alice’s absence. With nothing to lose, he had everything to win. And as he shook hands with Jack, placed his mouth guard in, and nodded to the night’s ref, he felt a calm take over him like never before.

  The buzzer sounded, and the crowd’s excitement transformed as the two men quickly struck. Jack Caller, fearless and experienced, jumped into action, avoiding the typical pace and starting jabs. His first hit connected with Micah—square in the jaw. His head lurched back and to the side awkwardly. His second one, a left strike, had Micah collapse to the ground.

  Alice’s eyes widened as she watched the man fall inwards towards his toes and then straight to the ground where his opponent took no hesitation in gaining an advantage by jumping quickly on him for a takedown. Micah squirmed from under him, managing to hook his leg around his opponent and using it as leverage to propel himself forward.

  He quickly sprang to his feet and managed to pull a spinning back kick against his opponent as a wild cheer came up from the small section of supporters Micah had on his side. Jack wouldn’t back down. Straight jabs to his shoulder, face, and head were square on, as Micah failed to block nearly all of them. His sight hazed over as the volume and force of each hit became more and more pressing.

  The buzzer couldn’t come sooner for Micah. As he stepped backwards to his side of the ring, he closed and opened his eyes quickly looking for relief from the blur. Turning his head slowly to his right, he spotted something: a woman in red. She was standing, screaming his name.

  It was Alice.

  He stared hard at her as the ring cleared in front of him. She had noticed him, as she fixed her eyes upon him. She nodded, as if to say, I’m here. Go win. And with that, she silently sat down with her group. And Micah’s world flashed back into action, as the ref indicated it was time to begin. The buzzer once again sounded.

  Micah was unfocused, dazed, and hurt. More than anything, he wanted it to be over. He needed nothing more than relief, and there was only one way this was going to end with him the true winner. And that is when he decided to go all out. He delivered a swift, sweeping kick that landed Jack on his knees in almost their first move of the second round.

  A round of body punches flew from his hands, as if he had lost control. Jack’s body, the one that had so viciously defeated him in the first round, had seemed to actually coil away from Micah in fear. Micah took it as a sign. He could win. The taste and sensation of blood filled his mouth, as his body swelled with the adrenaline of the fight.

  He managed to lock an arm around Jack’s neck, as he leaned forward into his body. Micah’s leg tangled around Jack’s, as he mounted low. He could feel Jack struggle and even let out a small cry. But Micah refused to let up. Instead, he pushed harder into the ground, using his hips and free arm to further lock the other in place.

  The ref ran over to the men, watching Jack carefully. And without much fanfare, Micah watched as Jack Caller, the fighter everyone had come to watch and bet upon, used his last bit of energy to timidly tap the mat. The ref stood quickly, taking Micah with him. And with arms raised, Micah had won by a knockout.

  Lights from cameras and phones flashed wildly, as the announcer stammered over his proclamations of Micah as the winner. Caroline turned toward Alice and muttered, “I cannot believe he just did that. I’m guessin’ we’ll be gettin’ that autograph tonight.”

  Alice hadn’t heard a word of what her friend had just said. Instead, her eyes were locked on Micah. From his cheek, blood from the first round beating trickled down slowly, and his body leaned forward in obvious pain. But despite the scene, his crooked lips peeled back into a menacing, dancing smile. With that, Alice knew it was over.

  Chapter 6: Outside the Ring

  Micah sped out of the octagon as soon as the last picture was taken and congratulatory handshakes were made. A small crew of onlookers, coaches, and trainers attempted to keep up with the man, but he was on fire. His heart pounded in his chest with the sound of the stunned crowd. His body felt electric, as he replayed over the win moment for moment.

  But what he needed now, he wasn’t going to find in the company of these vultures—the handlers and sponsors. The further he could distance himself from it all, the better the chances were of him getting what he really needed.

  As soon as he hit the bench, Dean barged into the room, “MICAH! You fucking brilliant fighting machine. Where did that come from? Jesus, man. I don’t even know what to say except that you’re going to be a rich man come tomorrow. There’s a line of sponsors and agents outside that door calling your name
.”

  “I’m not interested in them right now.” Micah grabbed a couple of the white gym towels placed out for him by the staff. He brushed the sweat off of his body and put on his long training shorts over his boxing trunks. He slid into his sandals and sat on the bench.

  “What the fuck do you mean you’re not interested? You can’t just turn these people down!”

  “I’m not turning them down. I’m not an idiot, but not tonight. Give them my number and tell them I’ll call them tomorrow.” He gestured to the deep gash in his face still fresh with oozing blood. He knew that playing the injury card would be the only answer to get his coach off of his back.

  Dean attempted to start again, but a death glare by Micah caught him mid-sound, as he turned and headed out the door. Micah could hear him loudly shout at the group assembled that his fighter wouldn’t be able to meet tonight, but he would take all offers in the next hallway. The sounds of voices and footsteps died down as they dispersed to wherever his coach was leading them.