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Fighting For Dylan (Worth The Fight Book 4)

Page 4

by Abby Knox

“Sweets, come on, I’m like twice your size.”

  “You’re not going to break me. I’m just saying, be ready. Because at some point, I’m going to be having a really good day, and sometimes I get really sick of people being too careful with me, and I’m gonna want you to fuck my brains out.”

  “If you say so, then OK,” I say, relieved to see we’ve arrived at the MMA gym so we can stop talking about me pinning her down like one of my opponents in the octagon.

  Dylan pulls up her nose. “Where are we?”

  I know what she’s thinking. I follow her eyes. We’re in a semi-seedy part of the industrial side of town. She reads the sign above the door. “D.A.G.?”

  “Dominant Alpha Gym.”

  She looks skeptical. “I’ve had my fill of so-called alphas in my life. I don’t need to meet any more of them.”

  I put up my hands in surrender after I park the truck. “The owner is old school, what can I say? Let’s go inside; you might like it. Just be aware, it pretty much reeks of testosterone.”

  “All right, let’s do this,” she mutters as we approach the door.

  I hold the door open for Dylan and she looks around with caution. I try to see things through her eyes, and I can see why she’s a little apprehensive about this new hobby of mine.

  In the corner, the owner and head trainer, Teddy, who is scary enough on his own with his scars and a nose that’s been flattened from decades of boxing, is chewing out some dude who looks a little bit green. Yeah, even greener than me. The kid is on the mats, holding a bloody lip, evidently just having been knocked down by Teddy during a bit of training.

  “Back in my day, we never complained about stupid shit like a busted lip. Now pull your little girl panties out your ass and get up!”

  There’s more, including some words I’d rather Dylan hadn’t heard. I watch her carefully. She’s staring at the whole scene a little more wide-eyed than normal, like she’s thinking about running out of here. Shit. I totally forgot about how rough people can talk to each other here.

  “Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to bring you here,” I say.

  Dylan puts on a brave face and rolls her eyes. “Honey, you would be shocked at the kind of stuff that gets thrown at me at work. I’ll…I’ll be fine.”

  I have to control the urge to say something truly dumb and caveman-ish such as, maybe you should get a different job. I know she likes it and she’s good at it, so I should keep my mouth shut.

  “I hate to hear that,” I say. “I just want everyone to be nice to you.”

  Dylan opens her mouth to say something, but we’re interrupted by petite brunette with kind eyes and deep laugh lines carrying a tin of chocolate chip cookies. “Who are you calling not nice?”

  As soon as I see those familiar cookies, my mouth starts to water. My hand stops in midair when I remember that Dylan tends to be careful about gluten because it can cause her pain to flare up. I don’t want my eating a cookie to make her feel resentful.

  “Not you, Maria. You’re always nice,” I say, transitioning my body from reaching for a cookie to wrapping up Maria, Teddy’s doting wife, in a bear hug.

  “Good,” Maria says. “I’m glad we got that straight.”

  She pulls out of the hug quickly to greet Dylan. Maria’s face lights up like a Christmas tree when she eyes my girl.

  “Hi! I’m Maria.”

  Dylan smiles and holds out her hand. “Hi, I’m Dylan.”

  I didn’t think it was possible for Maria’s face to light up any brighter, but she’s beaming like the Bat-Signal now. And I can tell by the mischievous look on her face that she’s about to embarrass me, big time.

  “Dylan! I’ve heard so much about you from our sweet boy, Grizz!”

  Dylan turns to me with a smirk. “Have you now?”

  I look around sheepishly, wishing I hadn’t mentioned around the gym that my best friend happens to be female. Not a single day at the gym has gone by without someone asking when I was going to make things official with my best friend.

  “Yes!” Maria exclaims. “He speaks very highly of you. He’s so proud of how far you’ve come in his kickboxing class, and he says you’re a nurse.”

  Dylan nods and smiles sweetly at Maria, and I slowly start to exhale.

  “Well, I’m pretty proud of him too. But I have to say I’m a little wary of this sport, no offense. Just gotta be honest.”

  Maria waves off any concern that she’s offended. “I used to feel exactly the same way when Teddy started out. That’s my husband over there,” she says, pointing to the mats where Teddy is whooping the newbie with some Brazilian jiu jitsu moves. When she catches sight of what’s happening, her attitude flips like a switch. “Babe, go easy on the new kid. We haven’t cashed his check yet!”

  Dylan glances away from the scene. Maria turns back and offers her a cookie, which she accepts.

  I hesitate, but I really do want one. I bite my tongue; it’s not my place to tell her what she can and can’t have. It’s her body, and she must know what she’s doing if she can manage her pain enough to go to work every day.

  Maria slaps my hand. “No cookie for you until you make your relationship with this pretty girl here social media status official.”

  I laugh. “Already done this morning. Guess you missed it, Mami.”

  Maria’s mouth drops open. “I’m so happy you finally came to your senses.”

  “So, uh, can I have a cookie?”

  “No, you don’t get a cookie until after training!” Teddy interrupts. Seems he’s finished abusing the new guy. “Get your ass warmed up and be ready in five minutes.”

  I kiss Dylan and give her a wink before I go, feeling fifty percent better that everyone will make her feel at home here and not too freaked out.

  Chapter Seven

  Dylan

  Maria shows me where to sit to watch the guys train in the practice ring. Standing elevated in one corner of the gym, it’s a small octagon shape with vinyl-coated fencing around it. If this environment is less intense than those backyard brawls, I shudder to think what Grizz endured the other night just for a few bucks. And what is he up to when it comes to my 30th birthday? We’ve never bought each other presents before.

  Seeing that I’m comfortable and brought a book to read, Maria excuses herself to tend to the bookkeeping.

  I’m partway through the first chapter of my book when I hear a commotion to my left. I look over, and I see what’s going on.

  Grizz has just come out of the changing room and is warming up by the punching bags. Also warming up nearby are a couple of bottle-blonde glamazons in garish workout outfits. They are both watching Grizz punch the bag, their arms crossed and their eyes flicking across his body greedily. These women are seriously checking him out, and it seems like they know him.

  I’m unable to concentrate on my book and instead amuse myself with their antics.

  One of them picks up a barbell and begins to do ridiculously slow squats right in front of him in profile, dramatically pushing out her chest and ass at the same time. She occasionally pauses to laugh at whatever insipid thing the other woman is talking about. The other one isn’t even pretending to work out; she’s just leaning against the bag and making comments that I have to assume are lewd, judging by the reaction of the one doing squats.

  I should probably calm down. There isn’t anything wrong necessarily with doing squats. And if the other one wants to get hurt by an errant flying right hook from Grizz, that’s none of my business. It’s not as if either of them are putting the moves on him. At the moment, they’re just enjoying the scenery. Lewdly.

  But what if they did put the moves on him? These women look a lot like the kind of women he used to date. These women are in a totally different league from the kickboxing moms. By the looks of them, they could be reality TV fitness challenge coaches.

  One of them apparently decides that Grizz isn’t giving her all the attention she desires and walks right up to him and touches his bicep.
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  Without a thought, I put away my book and head right over to them. I pick up his gallon jug of water, remove the lid, and hold it out to him, pretending to take no notice that I’ve clumsily splashed some water onto the one who’s got her talons on my boyfriend’s bicep.

  “Hey, watch it,” she says.

  I ignore her.

  “Hey, babe, time for some water. You’re looking a bit dehydrated.”

  The two women look at me like I’m an affront to the entire establishment.

  Grizz sees me and his face opens up in a sweet grin despite already being short of breath and sweaty. “Thank you, Sweets,” he says with a wink, taking the jug from me and taking a huge swig.

  Pecking order established, I return to my seat and take out my book. When I glance up at the scene a moment later, I am happy to see the two women have wandered off to work out in a different part of the gym. A few minutes later, Grizz enters the octagon with another fighter for a practice match. I finally return to my book. Or at least, I try to, but the action is the cage is too compelling to ignore.

  Grizz and the other fighter, whom I heard someone call Tank, dance around a bit while Teddy shouts obscenities at both of them. Then Tank attacks with a series of jabs and crosses. Grizz successfully blocks them and lands a side kick to the guy’s stomach. A second later, they’re on the floor and Tank has Grizz in a headlock.

  Surprise and concern make me stand up and drop my book. I can’t take my eyes off them. Are headlocks allowed? But apparently headlocks are not only allowed but encouraged.

  Somehow, Grizz gets his bearings and uses his tree trunk legs to flip the guy over and escape the headlock. He uses the momentum to pin Tank to the mat with his arm bent behind his back. Watching Grizz pin that guy does something to me. Dark, dirty things to my most feminine places. Well, should I really be surprised about getting turned on while watching two jacked, half naked dudes get sweaty as they grapple with each other?

  Soon enough, Tank slaps his hand on the mat, much to Teddy’s loud, semi-abusive consternation. Something about the scene reminds me of my dad and my stepbrother, and I have to sit down and put my headphones in while they loudly head off to the locker room.

  A moment later, another fighter emerges from the locker room, looking surly. Something is oddly familiar about him as I watch him warm up his muscles while pacing around. And then I realize who he is. I saw him in a viral video recently. He’s that bartender that took down four rowdy drunks with his bare hands. I remember feeling incredibly disturbed by that video when I first watched it, but also torn. Disturbed because of the level of violence and rage it took for one man to knock all four of those guys down, but also torn because, well, drunk people are not my favorite.

  The viral video guy passes by where I’m sitting and I feel a twinge of anxiety because he looks about as mad right now as he did in parts of that video. I lean over to scoot my handbag out of the way, but I don’t move quickly enough and he nearly trips over me. I can’t apologize fast enough.

  “Sorry-sorry-sorry. I’m here with Grizz, I’m in the way,” I say.

  The guy stops in his tracks and glares. “Grizz huh? He your boyfriend?”

  I swallow. This should be a proud moment where I get to own the fact that Grizz is my guy. But I don’t think this guy is going to congratulate me. “Um. Yes? Are you a fighter, too?”

  He nods slightly but doesn’t crack a smile. Instead, he glowers down at me from his great height and mutters something about the only reason he’s here today is because of Grizz’s “hair-brained” idea. My eyes go wide and my throat goes dry. I don’t know how to answer that; his facial expression has the makings of triggering a memory of my angry stepbrother. The guy stalks away when Teddy begins his infernal shouting again; evidently it’s his turn to train.

  Ready to tune out this whole place and all its truly intimidating personalities, I shake off the anxiety and find peace in a few chapters of my book and some calming music in my ears. But soon I sense a disturbance in the force. I look up and the two women from before are watching me from across the room.

  God, what in the world do they want?

  As if reading my mind, one of them makes her way toward me.

  “Are you Dylan?” she asks.

  “Yeah. And you are?”

  But instead of introducing herself she starts in on me.

  “You need to calm down with this territorial thing you have with Grizz. I knew him way before you did.”

  I look at her and wonder how that could be, since Grizz has only been coming to this gym the last few months. And then the pieces fall into place. I recognize her as one of his exes.

  She continues educating me about how things work here, but I don’t actually hear anything she says. The ringing in my ears is too loud.

  “Are you finished?” I finally ask her once I’ve caught my breath and become steady enough to speak without my voice wavering.

  “Oh, honey, I’m not ever finished. I can go all day and all night. Your brand new boyfriend remembers.”

  After she finally leaves me alone, I decide to read my book in the car. Reading is a misnomer, however, as all I can think about is that horrible woman, all that shouting in there, all the surly personalities.

  Between those girls, viral video guy and Teddy, if these are the kind of people he hangs out with now, I definitely do not fit into this world. And I don’t think I want to. The stress of it all just might give me a migraine.

  When Grizz is finished inside, he finds me almost recovered from a crying jag and trying really hard to concentrate on my book.

  “What did she say to you? I saw Jade talking to you. What did she say?” he asks, his eyebrows knitted together in worry.

  “Is she the reason you decided to come here?”

  “It’s not like that,” he says. “Jade’s brother and I kept in touch. He’s the one who encouraged me to get into MMA. He’s a Ground & Pound Champion from way back, and he’s been helping me. I had no idea she would be hanging around today.”

  I chew my bottom lip and ask, “What about that one guy? I recognize him from that crazy video of him beating those guys up at the bar? He didn’t even introduce himself, but he’s is not a fan of you right now.”

  Grizz blows out a breath and gestures at the building. “That guy? That’s Stone. He’s all right. Yeah, I happen to meet him a while back and convinced him to try MMA because he’s really, really good. He’s not a bad guy, he’s just not sure he wants to be here. I’m sorry if he freaked you out a little bit.”

  I have to pinch the bridge of my nose. “Grizz, I just don’t think I can hang with those people. Look at those women! How can I even compete with that?”

  “Compete!? Babe. There’s no competition! I choose you. You’re perfect for me.”

  “Well, Jade seems to think there’s room for competition. She fully intends to steal you away from me.”

  “Did she say that?”

  “Not exactly, but she implied it.”

  He slides in, shuts the door and grips the steering wheel so hard I can hear it creak under his grip.

  “What do I have to do to convince you that those other women in there don’t hold a candle to you?”

  “You don’t have to convince me of anything. I just really don’t like the energy in there. I don’t get people who enjoy intimidating others.”

  Without even hesitating, he offers, “Do you want me to quit?”

  I place a hand over his and squeeze. “No, I know you enjoy the fighting. Hell, the fighting was the easiest part to witness. But I just wonder if we should put on the brakes for now. Just for a while. I want to be able to come to your fights, if fighting makes you happy. But I just need to get a handle on my stress. This is … a lot for me. Does that make sense?”

  We discuss everything for a long time, but I stand my ground. “I don’t want to be the one to stand in your way, and if I’m worrying about you, and you’re worrying about my stress level, it’s not good for eithe
r of us.”

  Grizz looks heartbroken. He’s confused, but ultimately acquiesces. It kills me to see him look at me like that.

  He drops me off at work, but not before ending our day together with a searing kiss that etches itself into my bones. It’s the toughest moment of my life, and I have to collect myself before I walk into the office.

  Chapter Eight

  Grizz

  Weeks go by and I throw every ounce of energy into training.

  “Kid, I wasn’t sure you were gonna make it, but lately there’s something different about you,” Teddy says to me one day after I finally manage to control him with an arm-in guillotine. Too bad this unprecedented praise coming from the big guy himself doesn’t even give me any good feels whatsoever.

  Teddy has been training me hard six days a week, ever since Dylan and I decided to put on the brakes. Fuck that noise. I know it ain’t true. She put on the brakes and I sat there like an asshole. Somehow she made it seem like it wasn’t an ultimatum. So why did it feel like one?

  Every bit of frustration I have over how to get through to Dylan I’ve brought with me into the practice ring, and it’s turned me into one hell of a pissed off fighting machine. I say “machine” because I’ve done my best to turn off most of my other emotions. I have to, because I have no other outlet.

  In this time, I’ve improved my double leg takedown so much that nobody but the trainers at the gym can get out of it. My grappling has gotten so good I can even pin down Teddy, who is surprisingly agile considering his age and his love of his wife’s baked goods.

  But every minor success sucks without Dylan there to witness it.

  That’s why, when Teddy tells me about an opportunity to fight for real, I jump on it.

  “The organizers of the Ground & Pound Championship are going to host a charity night. All the local MMA gyms are signing up their best talent to fight in order to raise money for a local charity, to be chosen by the winner. You in?”

  I shoot him a wry grin, or as close as I can get after having the wind knocked out of me in training. “This could not have come at a better time, to be honest,” I say, suddenly realizing that my plans for Dylan’s 30th birthday surprise have come into sharp focus.

 

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