“You have an agenda?”
“Ironically, this was a bit of a coincidence, but I do have ambitions. So, you see that I win this fight, and I’ll make sure she’s here tonight. A happy reunion to celebrate my win?” The words were out, and the plan announced before I’d thought it all through.
He let go and walked away, thinking over my offer. Leo, who’d hung back, looked mad, his jaw locked and his face pretty fucking animated. Well, tough shit. Grace was my lucky charm after all. Now, I had my fight and leverage to ensure the win I needed. This would only be the first step. I wouldn’t stop until I ruled this place, and no one would ever question me or what I could achieve again.
Mikey paced the floor of his office, and with every step, I worried that I might have played my hand too soon. Fuck, I hadn’t even known I had a hand until I’d met the guy.
“Deal. Her name is on the door. But be warned, I won’t forget this. I’m not a man to cross.”
His stare should have been threatening, but all I saw were those eyes of Grace’s, and I knew his weak spot. This guy was supposed to have a reputation, but a mere promise of his long-lost daughter and I’d secured my success.
“I’m not here to cross you. I want you to make me the biggest fighter in your ring. That’s all.” And to show him I was serious, I offered him my hand for the second time. And this time he took it.
“Have you lost your fucking mind, Maddison?” Leo grabbed my shoulder once we were clear of The Venue. “Grace hates you fighting, and you’ve got to get her to come to London in a trap to see her father? Mate, even for you, that’s low.”
“Shut up, Leo. You don’t know shit. And you certainly don’t know what Grace will do for me. She was begging me not to go through with this fight, so I know she’ll come if it means a possibility of getting through to me.”
He took a step away and looked me over. I knew he had something else to say. “You know, I preferred it when you were just another guy, scrapping for fights and happy to work his way up. I don’t know what changed, man, but you need to take a hard look at yourself before you do something you can’t come back from.”
“If you have a problem, then fuck off. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone, and I’m fucking tired of being told differently.” I turned away, so angry that after everything, he was coming at me with this.
The rage boiled through me from the pit of my stomach, like acid burning to escape. All I needed to do was keep myself under control until later. Because then, I’d need everything I had to win this fight, regardless of any deal I’d made with Mikey fucking Kenner.
We stood as opponents on either side of the decision I’d made. Well, screw it. It was his choice. I made a phone call and then grabbed my stuff, ready to meet back here and get ready. Zuri would be here then. He had my back. If Leo wimped out on me, so be it, he’d be just another name on the list. The fuck you, look what I’ve done despite you, list.
Leo shook his head and turned away. The hurt of that shocked me. I hadn’t been expecting to feel that kick to the gut on top of everything else. The only person that had managed to put a dent in my feelings was Grace. She’d owned my heart for so long, that when she finally surrendered to her feelings it unlocked a part of me that had laid dormant, waiting. But then the cracks had emerged, my heart breaking slowly with every fight and step apart until she finally shattered it with her rejection.
I dug my phone out and saw the photo of her appear on the screen as it rang out. The girl I fell in love with and the woman who’d loved me back.
“Maddison?” The surprise in her voice sent a shard of pain through my chest. I thought we were done with all this, but apparently not.
“Hey. Yeah, I just wanted to speak to you. You know, before tonight.”
“The fight. Have you changed your mind? You don’t have to do it, Mads.” Her desperation grabbed me through the phone.
I paused, thinking this fucked-up plan through for the first time.
“Maddison?” There was a thread of hope to her voice, but it was because she thought I was undecided. If she’d known what I was really conflicted about, maybe that would finish us for good. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe I needed to do what Oliver had done and rid myself of Grace forever. A Jiminy Cricket sized conscience, sitting on my shoulder, told me that might be better than the path I was currently on, but that conscience wasn’t loud enough.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Can I see you?”
“I’m… where are you?” she asked, her voice all squeaky.
“London. I know, you’d have to find a way to come here, but there’s time. Your name’s on the door.”
“Wait, for the fight?” she asked.
“Yeah. You know I always want you there. And I know you don’t want to be there, but it’s different tonight. I’ll text you the details. We’ll talk.”
“Talk? Before the fight?”
“Sure. Come to The Venue. I’ll meet you, and we can talk.”
It was her time to pause. “Can’t we talk somewhere else? Before?” At least she was being smart about this.
“Think about it. I know it’s a lot to ask, especially after what I said the other night. I was drunk. And you broke my heart.” For some reason, I couldn’t stop with the hurtful words.
“Well, you broke mine as well, Mads. And you continue to.” She hung up.
“Fuck!” Now I had to wait and hope that she would show, otherwise I’d have made an enemy of Mikey Kenner before I’d even set foot in his ring.
The bar I found was around the corner from The Venue. Not the ideal place to hang out before a fight, but in the last few months, my training had consisted of getting too drunk to care. One beer wasn’t going to hurt.
I nursed it, thinking over all the actions that had led me to here, and I wondered what could have changed the course of events to stop them from leading here. Was it all down to my brotherly feud with Oliver? Surely, that was just normal angst—until you added Grace to the equation. She hadn’t intended to come between us, and it was funny how neither of us blamed her for what happened, but somewhere along the line, the rift between us grew too big, or at least it did for me. Grace calmed us and made things tolerable, but it had been my place to show Oliver how much better I was in all the ways I could because he’d have done the same to me.
I gave up on the beer and hoped Zuri was ready. Without Leo, I needed someone in my corner, the obligatory warm-up to get me amped, help with my wraps and general show of support. I only had a couple of hours left to get my head in the game for the biggest fight of my career, and right now I felt like fucking shit.
This time, when I went through the back, one of the guys working the door showed me through to another part of the building, down the stairs to a basement and then he directed me to a gym area. Mats and a punching bag decorated the cell-type room. A few lockers lined one wall, and two changing areas were signposted at the far end. The light was false from strip lights overhead, and for the first time, it felt like a proper underground fight. The Club had always had a veneer because fights weren’t the only things it hosted. This place felt different—rougher.
“Come on. You’re late.” Zuri came out of one of the changing areas, and I huffed out a breath in relief. Fuck, I hadn’t realised I needed to see someone here for me.
I followed him through the doorway and found a room, not unlike those back at The Club. It was like a giant wet room with tiles and a drain in the corner with a shower overhead. I guess it saved on the stain removal.
“Hey, man.” Leo appeared to the side, looking sheepish. “I’m sorry about before. I’m still here for you. All the way.” He held my stare, and I knew he was sorry. If I was honest, I was too.
We embraced, slapping each other on the back in some macho sign of appreciation, but it settled something in my gut.
“Thanks. Let’s get things started, shall we boys!” I forced the confidence into my voice as I clapped and rubbed my hands together.
Zuri took a phone call a
nd left Leo and me to it.
“Is she coming?” he asked.
“I fucking hope so.” I looked at him and only saw doubt in his eyes. But he was here. I couldn’t question all the shit that could go wrong. I had a job to do—to win—and besides, Kenner knew the deal.
“All set?” Zuri asked.
“What’s the take for this?”
“After you win. Get your head on straight. Fight hard, Mads. Fucking hard. This is no picnic.”
“I’ve got this.” I rolled my shoulders and started to move my body around, stretching my joints and muscles. The other room we walked through was all set for a warm-up, and there’s no way I’d set foot in the ring cold. Leo followed as I took to the mats, working my body before we started some punches and drills.
He held up a couple of pads, but he clocked me with one of them. “What the fuck?”
“Quicker, Mads. Come on, man.” He gave me a cocky grin, and I knew what he was doing.
Twenty minutes later, and I was ready to deck him where he stood. My mind was sharp and focused on only one thing.
I was used to hearing the noise build before a fight, but this place felt like the wolves were waiting for me. It messed with my confidence, as there was no atmosphere to feed off.
“Relax, Mads. You’ve got this.” Leo held up my gum shield and shoved it into my mouth. I started to pace, waiting. Waiting. I hated fucking waiting.
Grace hadn’t phoned or texted me back, but she had the details, and I still believed she’d show, even without seeing me first. Sure, I was a bastard for playing her, but I could beg for forgiveness later.
“Maddison?” A guy in a black t-shirt and sunglasses, despite being in a basement, appeared.
“Yeah,” I muffled.
“You’re on. A reminder, no tap outs, no biting. You fight until one of you stays down. Mr Kenner will be watching and expects a performance. Got it?”
I nodded.
Time to win.
The guy in the sunglasses led the three of us out of the basement and into the main arena. Dark and dingy, the lighting was piss poor, and the smell of sweat and alcohol filled the air. Now the noise finally hit me and set the fire in my belly alight.
“Fucking, yeah!”
Zuri and Leo peeled away from me as I walked around the entire ring while Sunglasses opened the door.
The adrenalin, the energy, it all flowed through my blood, charging it up so I was ready to fucking tear the place down. I felt the beat of the crowd, along with my heart, pulsing around my body. I looked up and scanned the faces, but there was no way to pick anyone out. A curl of dread formed in my stomach as I realised that I wouldn’t know even if Grace were here. I’d been so confident she would show, but as I looked for her in the crowd, panic started to overtake me, driving my heartrate through the roof.
A movement distracted me, and I turned to face my opponent for the first time. He was a big motherfucker, heavyset with muscles wrapped around his neck and shoulders, and his legs look like fucking tree trunks. Getting hit by him would bloody hurt.
A spotlight came on, lighting us up, and I risked another glance up to the crowds all around. Still no Grace. I couldn’t see shit now. It was like being on a fucking stage.
We came together and tapped knuckles.
Tree trunks gave me a slow smile and the perfect view of his skull gum shield.
“I’ve got a message for you, boy.”
“Oh, yeah?” I pushed my face into his, ready to get this fight started.
“No one plays Mikey Kenner.”
Fuck.
Chapter 30
Grace
“What do you mean we can’t speak to him, that’s why my name’s on the list,” I pleaded to the guy barring our way, as I ignored the queue of people appearing behind us.
“Look, he’s my brother. We always see him before the fight. He told us to come here, and we’d meet him.”
“No can do. You can either come in or go. No one sees the fighters before the bout unless they come in with them.” He crossed his arms for emphasis, and I knew there was no getting past.
I turned away, my heart racing at the thought of not getting to him in time. Maddison had asked me here for a reason. He’d reached out, and I had to find a way to help him. I’d come too far to let it go now.
“What do you want to do?” Oliver asked, his eyes sad.
No.
I wouldn’t be dictated to by a bouncer. We’d get in and find some other way to get to Mads. I mustered all my courage and spoke from my gut. “Let us in.”
The guy moved aside and let us through. We entered a huge warehouse space, done up in a fashion—concrete floors, low, dull lighting that was probably there to disguise the dirt and grime of the place, and exposed brickwork with cracks and dents running all over. It wasn’t pretty and made The Club look positively sparkly.
Crowds of people milled about, creating a heaving pulse of activity. There was no music, instead, anticipation filled the air, which churned my stomach with dread. They were all here to watch Maddison, and I clung to that, knowing I needed to find a way to stop this.
We looked around and saw the ground floor where the ring was located with hordes of people already gathered around for the main event. There was no way we’d be able to push our way through to the front, but I had to try. Oliver’s hand reached for mine, and I locked onto it, not wanting to lose him in all the people. We pushed and jostled but got nowhere fast.
I scanned the area, which felt more like a gladiator arena. Big screens hung down around the warehouse, suspended from the iron beams overhead, all with a picture of the shadowy ring. It was empty, so we still had time.
“Oliver, how do we find him?”
“Listen,” he had to shout to be heard over the noise. “We have to accept we might not get to him.”
I shook my head, refusing to admit we’d let him down already. The fight hadn’t even started. Maddison needed me, and I wouldn’t accept it was over until I saw him stand in that ring. My eyes scanned around the room as I looked for another route.
There was a balcony of sorts overlooking the ring. “There.” I pointed and started to move back towards the steps that led upward.
Once again, a mountain of a man barred our progress. His grim expression told me he wasn’t the friendliest of chaps. With a deep breath and a shot of confidence I faked, I walked towards him like I belonged up there.
“Excuse me, miss.” He stopped me.
“I’m here with Maddison. He assured me I’d be let through,” I bluffed, pulling myself up tall and keeping my eyes focused dead ahead on him.
“Hold on.” He turned away, fiddled with something on his collar and talked into an earpiece or something. “What’s your name?”
“Grace Shaw.”
“Boss, I have a Grace Shaw,” he paused, “Okay.”
The mountain moved aside, and I hurried up the stairs with Oliver in tow. The balcony opened up into what appeared to be a VIP area. There were a lot of suits sipping from fluted glasses, not the same as the riff-raff downstairs.
Oliver led me farther through the area, my hand still in his until space opened up at the edge looking over the pit below, the ring visible but still in shadow.
“I’m sorry.”
“He has to know we’re here, Oliver. He can’t think we left him.”
“I know.”
I gripped the edge of the barrier, trying to ward off the sickening feeling that was rising, threatening to overtake me, sucking all the faith I had in Maddison into a black hole.
Movement caught my eyes, and I saw three figures appear from the far end of the building and walk towards the ring. The crowd parted before them as they strutted through into the clear space circling the ring. Two figures peeled off to one side as the third made his way to the ring.
It was Maddison.
People started to take notice, moving in closer to take a look and the din started to gather momentum. It was nothing like the ch
eering and support at the fights I’d witnessed at The Club. These spectators expected blood—sizing up the victims below.
“Oliver?” I asked, not sure of what question I needed answering.
“He’ll see us,” he replied confidently.
Maddison stood, looking out and scanned the faces in front of him, the same routine as when I’d been to watch other fights, but we were too far away. His eyes moved back and forth over the hoards in front of him. A bright light beamed down above him, illuminating the cage, but it didn’t help Mads find us, and he wouldn’t all the way up here. The screen repeated the image in close up, and I saw the look of hope on his features.
He was looking for me, and he wasn’t going to see me unless I did something.
“He can’t see, Oliver. We have to get closer. Come on.”
I tore off back the way we’d come, down the stairs and past the mountain. People stood shoulder to shoulder, all edging closer now the action was building, but I found a way through. I barged and pushed, and with determined steps, forced a path. Oliver kept a hand on my shoulder, lending me his strength. We knocked people and shoved past until we were closer to the ring, but Maddison had turned away from the crowd and wasn’t looking for me anymore.
“Maddison!” I screamed through the noise and jumped up and down, making myself as big as possible in the masses.
It was no use. Maddison was looking the other way—right at his opponent who’d joined the ring. The man was a monster. Legs twice as big as Maddison’s, his neck like that of a bull, chorded with muscle. He made Mads look like a boy.
I jostled for a better vantage and looked towards the roped-off section of floor between the spectators and the ring. I thought about running through it; the bouncers wouldn’t be able to stop me in time to make Mads see me. Then the nightmare of the last fight returned—when I’d been the distraction. He’d blamed me for that, and I couldn’t risk that with who he was facing.
As I weighed up the options, a groan from the crowd forced my eyes to the screen, just in time to see an arc of scarlet fly from Maddison’s mouth. He’d stumbled back with the force of the strike.
The Two Halves of my Heart: A Friends-to-Lovers Romance Page 24