by Ash, Nikki
Feeling suddenly pumped and needing to release some of this built-up tension, I decide maybe going for a short jog might help before we head to the arena.
“Hey, Marco.” I roll over and find Marco’s side of the bed empty. I feel the sheets and they’re cold. Grabbing my phone from my nightstand, I check for any texts or phone calls and there aren’t any. Throwing the sheets off me, I go pee, then go to Micaela’s room. She’s still asleep. As she gets older, she sleeps in a little later—seven o’clock being her current wake up time.
I check the kitchen, guest room, laundry room, all while ignoring the pull in my gut that’s screaming Déjà-fucking-vu. I open the door to the garage and my heart skips a beat or maybe two. His SUV is gone. Gone. I try to think about the last week. Everything has been good, better than good. There’s no reason why he would leave. Maybe he’s at the gym. But why didn’t he text or call me? There’s no way he would fucking do this to me again.
I pull up his name and hit send. The phone goes to voicemail. No fucking way! I call again and get the voicemail again. I shoot him a text and watch the blue turn to green. His phone is off.
I call Kaden, who has been training him. “Hey, is Marco with you?” I ask without even saying hello.
“No, we agreed to meet at the arena later. Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know. He’s gone. Did he maybe say something?”
Kaden stays quiet for a moment before he says, “No, he’s been training hardcore.”
“Okay, if you hear from him…”
“Of course.”
We hang up and I call my parents next. “Have you been by the gym yet?”
“Good morning to you, Bella.” My dad chuckles.
“Have you?”
“No, what’s going on?” His voice turns serious.
“Can you go by there and see if Marco is there.”
“Bella…”
I don’t want to say the words. If I say them they’ll be real and I’ll be a fool because my dad warned me about this.
“Just please go check.”
“Okay.”
I sit on the couch and stare at the black television screen thinking about all the possibilities, but no matter which one I think of, every one of them ends with Marco being able to leave a note or send me a text. It doesn’t make sense. He loves me. He said I’m his forever. He wants to make more babies with me. He wouldn’t do this to me—to us.
I get on Facebook and search Marco’s name. There’s nothing new from him. There are tons of posts and tags but none of them from this morning indicating where he might be. I search for any accidents in the area but don’t find any, so I jump in the shower since Micaela is still sleeping.
Once I’m done, I make myself a cup of coffee and by the time I’ve finished drinking it, Micaela is stirring in her crib ready to get up for the day. I go through my routine robotically. I change her, feed her, and get her dressed. I put her in her car seat and bring her to my parents’ place. I’m pulling up at the same time my dad is. “He’s not there. Now tell me what’s going on.” I think for a moment how to explain something I don’t understand myself, when my phone rings. I look down at it and it’s Marco.
“Hello.”
“Fuck, Bella.”
“Marco, are you okay? Where are you?” Even I can hear the panic in my voice.
“I’m at the airport. They made me turn my phone off to go through the metal detectors.” The airport. He left me again.
“You left without telling me again.” It’s not a question. He did. He left without a word. Again.
“No, listen—” I hang up and shove my phone into the diaper bag not wanting to look at it. My dad starts to speak, but I put my hand up.
“I have a fight in a few hours. That is what I’m going to focus on. Unless it’s fight related, I don’t want to hear it. I’m going to the gym for a little bit. I’ll meet you at the arena.
I give Micaela a kiss on her forehead and hand her over to my dad, along with her diaper bag.
With my earbuds in, I have Eminem’s ‘Till I collapse on repeat as I beat on the bag like it’s personally offended me. Low kick, high kick. Left hook, right hook. Knee strike. Repeat. I’m in the zone, refusing to think about Marco or why he left and is at the airport, or on an airplane at the moment. When a hand comes up and grabs my shoulder, I spin around in shock and almost punch the person.
It’s Marco.
Maybe I should still punch him.
Fuck that. He’s not worth my time.
I glare and go back to focusing on the bag. His hand grips my shoulder again, his body coming up behind me, his arms encasing me, forcing me to stop my workout. We both stand here together, in silence. My music still on full blast, the words reminding me I am fucking strong.
After a few minutes, Marco’s face nuzzles into my sweaty neck. I feel him shaking. I press pause on my music and remove my earbuds but don’t say a word.
“Logan died.”
Fuck! I knew something must have happened and I was right, but it doesn’t change the fact he left.
“He had a heart attack and they couldn’t revive him.” I hear the tears in his words. “I grabbed my cell phone and left, got to the airport, purchased a ticket, and went through security.”
Tears sting my eyes, but I stay quiet. His arms are wrapped around me, and even though the gym is filled with other fighters, it feels like it’s only the two of us here right now.
“I went through the metal detectors, which is why my phone was off, but the moment I sat down to wait for my flight to be called, I thought about you. I realized I’m not in this alone anymore. I’ve spent so many years running. Running from home. From you. From love. From my parents. From the reality of Logan’s condition. From my injuries.
“Fuck, Bella. I started to freak out when I realized what I did and I came right back. I swear I did. My phone had no service, and as soon as I got to my car and had service, I called you. I’m so sorry, baby.” He didn’t leave. I know he almost did, but he didn’t leave. He thought about me and came back.
“Please tell me you’ll forgive me.”
“You came back.” The tears fall in relief. To some people, him leaving would be enough to be mad, but to me, him coming back is what I’m going to focus on. His best friend died and in the midst of freaking out, he remembered me and came home. Marco isn’t perfect, and expecting him to be is ridiculous.
“I did. I need you so much, Belles.” I feel Marco’s tears running down my neck as he cries, so I turn around to look at him. His cheeks have tear stains and his eyes are bloodshot. I put my arms around his neck and hug him tight.
“You have me, Marco.” His body visibly relaxes at my words. “But you can’t keep fighting me, fighting us.”
Marco grabs my chin with his thumb and forefinger. “It’s why I’m here right now. I promise you, baby, this is me tapping out. I’m done fighting. You have me, all of me.”
“Don’t let Antoine hear that. He might think you’ve gone soft.”
Marco smiles cockily. “The only person I’ll ever be submitting to will be you.” His lips crash against mine, his kiss sending shivers down my spine. It ends too quickly, with both of us panting.
“What time does your flight leave for San Diego?”
Marco looks at me confused. “Not for another two hours, but I’m not going.”
“Yes, you are. We are.”
He envelops me into a tight hug before he pulls back and says, “Baby, I appreciate that so fucking much, but we’re going to the MGM Grand for our fights. Once we’re both done kicking some ass, we’ll book a flight together.”
“Are you sure?”
“Fuck yeah, I’m sure. And when I win this fight tonight, I’m dedicating it to Logan.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Marco
It’s round three—the final round—with only two minutes left. Bella has held her own like the damn good fighter she is. Shawna, who has four fights and wins un
der her belt, has gotten her on the ground several times, but Bella has managed to get out every time. Bella and Shawna are currently going toe-to-toe. Bella’s throwing punches, and Shawna is trying to get her onto the ground. If something doesn’t happen in the next minute and a half, the decision will go to the judges, and while Bella has fought hard, Shawna will win with the points.
The women circle each other, throwing punches that aren’t connecting. Then out of nowhere, Bella comes in for a kick to the back of Shawna’s thigh. She connects, but Shawna is quicker and kicks back, only she misses, leaving room for Bella to take a shot. Bella’s fist connects with Shawna’s face, and Shawna flies backward landing on her back. Holy shit!
Bella follows through, and with one more punch to Shawna’s face, Bella knocks her the fuck out, the referee grabbing Bella to pull her off and declaring her the winner by knockout. The crowd goes crazy and her dad and I are both running up to her.
I grab her gently by her neck and bring her in for a kiss, ignoring the chants and screams around us. I can taste the blood from her cut lip as I pick her up into my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist, and kiss my woman with everything I have. Too soon, I’m forced to put her down to let my mom clean her up. The commentator asks her a few questions and then we head out of the octagon and back to the locker room so I can warm up for my fight. Since mine is the main card event, I have nine more fights until my own, which can be hours from now.
When my mom insists that she check out Bella completely, they leave to the showers. It’s just Cooper and me in the locker room since Kaden is filling out paper work and Liz is at home with Micaela and the other kids.
“I’m ready,” I blurt out like an idiot.
“I would hope so. If not, it’s too late.” Shit, it would help if I explained myself better.
“No, I didn’t mean about the fight. I meant I’m ready to ask your permission to marry Bella.” Cooper stares at me showing no emotion. “I know it’s only been six months since we’ve been together, but I love her.”
“You left her today,” he argues.
“I didn’t leave. I was in shock that Logan died and I did leave the house, but I came right back. We both know I’m not perfect. I’m pretty fucked up. It’s been fifteen years since my mom killed herself, and since then I’ve lived a life most kids dream of. But for some reason, I just never stopped running. It’s how I ended up at your gym when I was eleven years old. I was running from my home, from my life.”
“And are you done running?”
“Bella is my safe place. I hate that it took me so long to come to terms with that. But she’s it for me.”
Cooper looks me dead in the eyes. “I’ve cared about you like my own son since I met you and I’ll give you my permission to marry my daughter, but Marco, if you ever hurt her like you did when you ran, I’ll hunt you down myself and kill you.” Then he smiles and adds, “Welcome to the family, son.”
Chapter Forty
Bella
Shortly after I’m cleaned up and checked out thoroughly by Hayley, my dad and I make our way to the seats Caleb has reserved for us. Hayley is the medic for Marco’s fight so she stays back, and Kaden, since he’s Marco’s trainer, stays back as well. We watch each fight, cheering for the guys we know and want to win, until the main fight of the night comes on. The music goes silent as the ring announcer announces up next is the main fight.
When Marco’s name is called, the crowd goes nuts. He walks out with his mini entourage, but my eyes are only on him. He looks sexy as hell and he’s all mine. Once he gets to the ring, Antoine is announced and the crowd cheers almost as loud.
The two men are given the rules by the referee and the fight begins. Both guys are throwing punches and kicks, getting hits in. It seems like an even match up. Neither giving in or making any huge moves. Round one ends, and the guys are broken apart and cleaned up.
Round two begins and they both come at each other swinging. They’re getting more hits in. Marco’s left hook connects with Antoine’s face. Antoine’s kick connects with Marco’s leg causing Marco to almost stumble back. The atmosphere suddenly changes. They both start giving it all they got. Marco’s punches get stronger, he connects harder. Antoine’s knee connects with Marco’s ribs. Marco jumps back, then comes at Antoine with sheer determination and force. He attacks his body over and over again, pinning him up against the cage. Antoine has nowhere to go. He’s blocking but isn’t fighting back. The horn blows. Round two ends.
Round three begins and Marco doesn’t hold back. He charges at Antoine: punching, kicking, kneeing. Antoine swings but misses. You can tell he’s winded. Marco gets Antoine against the fence again, and with an upper cut has Antoine close to giving up. Marco follows through with blow after blow until Antoine goes still and the referee has to pull Marco off him announcing him the winner.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, with a TKO in the third round, the winner and still reigning champ is Marco ‘The Maniac’ Michaels.” The commentator raises Marco’s hand as Daniel West comes out with the belt to put it back on Marco for the second time. I’m jumping up and down, screaming. He did it, again! And this time, I’m here to witness it firsthand.
Marco takes the mic from Daniel West. “Thank you,” he says, and everyone screams. He waits for the crowd to calm down before he continues. “I would like dedicate this win to Logan. Some of you might know him. He was my best friend, a damn good fighter, and he passed away this morning. So, Logan, this one is for you.” He looks toward the ceiling, trying to collect himself.
“I would like to thank my girlfriend, Bella, for standing by my side these last several months. Baby, we have been through so damn much. I love you.” At this, there are several awws mixed with plenty of boos coming from the audience. I shake my head and laugh.
“I have an announcement to make. I’m officially retiring from the UFC. I have made the decision to focus on my family. Thank you to everyone who has supported my career, Kaden, Cooper, and my dad who taught me everything I know, and my mom, who always made sure I was cared for after each fight. To my fans, you guys fucking rock! Thank you!”
Marco hands the mic back to Daniel West, shakes his hand, and then is led back to the locker room to get cleaned up for the post-fight press conferences. A couple hours later and we’re heading out of the arena. Marco is quiet and I’m sure it has a lot do with that fact that a year and a half ago, when he won his title fight and became a champion, tragedy followed. Holding Marco’s hand, we make our way out of the arena and to the hotel part of the MGM Grand.
He walks up to the front desk. “I need to check in. Last name is Michaels.”
“We’re staying here?”
He glances my way and nods, then takes the keys from the woman and signs the necessary paperwork.
“Can you please have our luggage brought up?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll have valet go out to get it.”
I wasn’t even aware we had luggage. “Does my mom know we’re staying the night? She has Micaela.”
“Yeah, she knows. We’re going to meet them for breakfast in the morning. It’s already after midnight. We wouldn’t want to wake her to bring her home anyway.”
Marco presses the button for the elevator and once we are inside, inserts a card and hits the button for the penthouse. We take it straight up to the top and get off.
Once he unlocks the door, we don’t even make it all the way into the room before he stops short causing me to bump into him from behind. He turns around and says, “I thought about all the places I could take you tonight, but every place meant getting into a car. I know it sounds ridiculous but…”
“No, it doesn’t sound ridiculous.”
“I booked this room the day I knew we would be fighting, once I made the decision to fight. My first thought was history repeating itself. If something happened to you…”
“Marco, let’s sit down. It’s been a long ass day. My body is sore as hell.”
Taking Marco’s hand in
mine, I steer us to the couch so we can sit. “I think my body is in shock.”
Marco chuckles. “Wait until tomorrow. You won’t want to get out of bed.”
“It was worth it. I want to fight again.” I grin wide and then groan in pain. My busted lip doesn’t appreciate me smiling.
“You will fight again. You did great, Belles. I’m proud of you.” Pride bursts inside me. Marco is one of the best fighters I know, and while this might only be my first fight, him complimenting me feels good.
“And you won the belt again. I know you mentioned retiring, but I just thought it was because you were scared. I thought once you got in the octagon and fought, you might change your mind.”
Marco takes my hands in his, bringing them up to his lips to kiss each of my battered knuckles. “I’m done fighting, Belles. If you would have asked me two years ago, I would have told you I would fight until they scraped my old ass off the mat, but things have changed. Your dad is giving me an opportunity I can’t pass up. To run the gym and train others is exactly what I want.”
“Are you okay with me fighting?” I don’t know what I’ll even say if he says no. Fighting is my dream and I’ve only just begun.
“You don’t need my permission to fight. Whatever you do in life, my job is to support you, but I don’t want to support you as your boyfriend. I want to support you as your husband. I want to run the gym with you, raise our daughter with you, grow old with you.”
