AFTER DROPPING SHELBY OFF AT her place late this morning, I drove the hour back to Santa Rosa, loathing the fact that in a few hours she’d be on a date with another guy. The last thing I wanted was to push her away, but dammit, if I didn’t want to tell that guy to fuck off and say she’s mine. By the time I got back home and in the door, a text came in from Mason.
Mason: Gym? 12:30?
I had an hour to kill until then, but his text couldn’t have come in at a better time. I needed something to hit and to hit it hard.
Me: I’ll be there. Spar?
His reply was instant.
Mason: Fuck yeah!
By the time I packed up my gear and made it to the gym, Mason was already inside talking to my coach, Carter Bennett. He was the one who got me started in the whole MMA training just trying to help a poor kid out, and once I started fighting and making money, I hired him. With not having a real father figure in my life he was the closest to one I had, and he sure knew how to get my ass in line.
“How’s it going, son?” Carter called out as I approached them.
“Same old shit,” I replied, slapping him on the shoulder and nodding at Mason. “You ready to get my ass in shape?”
Carter chuckled. “Mason’s here today. I don’t think you can handle us both taking you on. I trust that he’ll get you all warmed up and ready for the ass kicking you’ll get tomorrow.”
Carter was a retired MMA fighter pushing his late forties, but if his hair wasn’t covered in all gray he’d pass for someone a decade younger. Out of all the fighters and retired ones I’d met, Carter was the shortest in height by far. His arms were about the size of mine, but he was also a foot shorter than me, too. The day I underestimated him was the day he kicked my ass in the ring about nine years ago. To this day, he was still fast as shit with a punch that’d knock you off your feet.
“Thanks, coach. I look forward to it,” I remarked sarcastically.
Patting me on the back, he grinned widely and waltzed over to a young woman who seemed confused on how to work the treadmill. “So you want to spar?” Mason asked. “Did things not go well with you and your girl last night?”
Throwing my bag in the ring, I hopped over the top and reached in for my tape and gloves. “No, things with her went great, it’s the date she’s going on tonight I have a problem with,” I told him.
Slowly, he nodded in understanding. “Ah, I see. Let me guess, you didn’t want to be all dominant male with her and tell her she couldn’t go, right? Because if you did, you’d push her away?”
“Pretty much,” I agreed, and then added, “and I know I shouldn’t worry, but fuck if it doesn’t piss me off that she’ll be with another guy.”
Over my handwraps, I slid on a pair of new black MMA gloves and flexed my hands. They were a little stiff, but it wouldn’t take me long to break them in once I started hitting something.
Mason chuckled and smacked his gloves together. “Trust me, I know the feeling. I once had to watch another fucker kiss Claire right in front of me.”
Mason had told me some of the things he’d witnessed when he was in Las Vegas on a mission, and I couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would be to see murder, death, and all of that messed up shit all the time. Especially, if anything involved the people I cared about like what happened to him.
“I would’ve killed him,” I said. “Honestly, I think that I would’ve killed the guy if I was in your situation.”
Nodding, he kicked his bag out of the way and replied wearily, “I almost did. Trust me, it’s a scary feeling when you get that pissed off to where you want to kill someone.”
After a moment of silence and a few minutes of stretching, I moved my bag out of the way and we were ready to spar. Even though Mason was only three years older than me, I still liked to rag him about it.
“All right, old man, let’s see what you got,” I taunted.
The fight was on.
TWO HOURS LATER, OUR TRAINING came to a complete halt. I didn’t have to look at who entered the gym to know trouble had just walked in. I could feel it, and by the murderous expression on Mason’s face it wasn’t going to be good. Turning around, I saw none other than my one and only nemesis, Kyle Andrews, along with another MMA fighter, J.T. Michaelson. They were both in the Heavyweight class, J.T. being a newbie fighter, and I’d completely murdered him last year when we fought at the Staples Center in Los Angeles.
Kyle was a lot harder to beat, but when he went down I took the Heavyweight title with me. Ever since then it had been his mission to fuck me—and everyone else he could—over. His usual white spiky hair was covered with a low baseball cap, and on his face was the constant leer, like he was on the inside of a private joke and you weren’t. What really made him look fucked up were his eyes; one was so dark it looked black while the other was a dull shade of green.
The guy had been arrested several times for public brawls, and even breaking a guy’s neck in the process. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be allowed to compete, but somehow he always got away with just a slap on the wrist. If it was me I’d be banned from the UFC. How he got away with the stuff he did no one knew.
Mason and I both jumped out of the ring and approached them head on. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I growled. “You don’t belong here.”
“Neither do you, trailer park,” Kyle sneered. “Or have you forgotten where you come from? You’re no better than me, but yet you seem to get everything you want. How does that happen? What makes you so damn special?”
I’d seen his game played many times before. He was goading me to make a move against him because he knew I couldn’t get away with half the shit he was capable of. I’d be kicked out of the tour in a heartbeat and lose my title.
Knowing I needed to keep calm, I took a deep breath and smiled. “I guess I’m just lucky.”
Kyle narrowed his eyes and stepped closer, his leer growing wider. Clenching my fists tight, I was ready to lay his ass out on the ground if I had to. If he made the first move I couldn’t be held responsible for initiating it. That fucker knew how to press buttons.
“So, was it luck that landed you that hot piece of ass at the fight last night?” he taunted. “I hate that I missed the photo shoot. It would’ve been nice to get my hands on her. Not to mention she’s a well-known journalist who makes more money than us. She’s definitely a step up from the whores you’ve been fucking. I’d say she’s right up my alley.”
Time moved in slow motion as one minute I kept my calm and the next I was being held back by both Mason and Carter, spitting out every expletive word I could think of. “You’re not going to touch her,” I shouted angrily, fighting against the hold Mason had around my waist. “So help me God, if you do I’m going to rip off your goddamned arms.”
My body shook with rage, my muscles ready to fight, and my fist ready to strike. I didn’t want to hold back. He could mess with me about anything, and I wouldn’t give a shit, but mentioning Shelby was a whole other story. Mason pushed me back, getting directly in my face so he was the only person I saw.
“Calm down,” Mason snapped, his brows furrowed angrily and sweat pouring down his face. “That worthless piece of shit isn’t going to get anywhere near your girl. He’s just messing with you. You know that.”
Over his shoulder, Carter pushed against Kyle’s chest, making him step back and stumble across a bench onto the floor. Snarling, he got up quickly and moved toward the door.
“Get the hell out of here! Both of you,” Carter shouted. “This is my gym and I have the say so on who is allowed in here. If I see you again, your next visit anywhere will be to the hospital, and believe me when I say you won’t be leaving there anytime soon.”
Kyle scoffed. “Whatever, grandpa, I’d like to see you try.” Then he turned his two-toned eyes in my direction and smirked. “Give your woman a kiss for me … or better yet, I might do it myself. I’ll have to make a visit to Physique and request she write an article about me. I can be very persuasive you know.”
“Out!” Carter thundered furiously, marching toward the door, fists ready to fly. However, Kyle and J.T. bolted out before he could get to them. Worthless cocksuckers.
As soon as they were gone, I thought the pounding in my head would go away, but it didn’t. What if Kyle really tried to get to Shelby? What if he wasn’t just goading me? I knew one thing … I wasn’t going to take any chances.
“What were you thinking?” Mason growled, glaring at me like an idiot. “Do you know what you just did?”
“What are you talking about?” I shouted, glaring at the door. “What did I do?”
Shaking his head, Mason sighed and closed his eyes. “You just gave that dickhead all the ammunition he needed to get to you. Now he knows for a fact that Shelby is your weakness. He’s going to use that bit of knowledge to mess with you.”
Gritting my teeth, I ripped off my gloves and threw them in my bag. What the hell did I just do?