Diablo's Throne MMA Books 1-3

by HJ Bellus

  Boss remains quiet. Jag makes good on his promise. He rounds the end of the bed making his way to the other side. He places his hand over ours.

  “I’m going to be an uncle.”

  Layla scrunches her brows in confusion. I tilt my head. Jag repeats the phrase. Layla gasps, her entire body beginning to quake under my touch. I panic.

  “Are you okay, baby?” I stare down at her.

  She’s gone pale. Her eyes wide.

  “I told her she’s pregnant, dumbass.” Jag shakes his head at me.

  “Pregnant.” The word echoes around the room.

  “What?” Layla squeaks out, trying to sit up straight and wincing in pain.

  “Easy,” her dad soothes her. “You are pregnant. Earlier they checked for a heartbeat and found one. Everything is okay.”

  “No.” She pulls her hands from mine and goes straight to her lower belly. “No, I’ll kill her again.”

  All three of us surround her. I hold her the best I can without hurting her. She’s going through enough pain as it is. Her dad holds her from the other side; Jag has his hands on her legs offering up his comfort.

  Boss whispers to her over and over, chanting a prayer. He continues speaking in Spanish until Layla calms down. We all remain by her side. It’s not until silence consumes the room again that I process I’m going to be a dad. Our baby is growing inside of Layla. I stand up, running my hand and vision down to her abdomen. I pull the blanket up the same time I drag her gown up, being careful not expose too much.

  I take my time trailing kisses all over her belly. A baby. It’s a mind-blowing thought. I waste no time wondering about how. None of it matters. I look up to Layla’s tear-soaked face, pressing my cheek into her belly and smiling. In the middle of the chaos, I smile. Nothing can take this away. Nothing.

  “A baby.” I smile broader. I’m not the crying type, but hell, even I feel the sting of tears threatening to tumble. “Our baby. I love you, Layla.”

  She reaches down running her free hand through my hair. “I love you too.”

  Her voice is weak like she doesn’t believe it. I can’t imagine how scared she has to be. It only makes my job that much more important to make her believe.

  “But the pill. I was on it,” she murmurs.

  I don’t reply, having no clue what to say.

  “Guess you have to take it every day for it to do its job.” Layla shakes her head.

  “Jesus was it that hard?” Jag throws his hands up in the air. “Now, I’m going to my bed to get a few hours of sleep then I’ll be back. Good luck explaining to Boss how you knocked up his only child, champ.”

  Jag slaps me on the back.

  “Jag,” Layla hollers.

  He turns around. Boss and I get out of the way letting her talk to him. She doesn’t say a word, instead wraps him in a one-armed hug. They whisper something to each other, and the cocky bastard wipes a tear away from his eyes. It’s the perfect time to give him hell, but I let it slide.

  “Dusty as fuck in here.” He kisses Layla’s forehead, turns, and saunters out. We erupt into laughter when his voice streams in from the hallway.

  “Baby, you look tired. Need a seat?”

  There’s a gentle pause.

  “All I’m saying is you can sit on my face.”

  Boss stayed around for an hour or so after the doctors checked on Layla. It’s going to be a long road of recovery, but she’s going to be fine. I told Boss everything I knew when a nurse asked us to step out of her room for a moment. The cops were able to get video surveillance in the alley and the gym. It’s not a matter of me getting off scot-free. The law doesn’t look too kindly on taking justice into your hands. I have no idea the punishment or the extent of it, but I’d do it all over again.

  “Tired, baby?” I brush back her crazy curls.

  She nods. “I can’t sleep, though. My mind is going a hundred miles a minute.”

  “Want me to call the nurse to see if they have anything to help you?”

  She shakes her head and pats the bed.

  “Baby, there’s no room.” I step closer.

  “Please.”

  That’s all it takes. One word from her and I’m curling up into the bed. I get in on her good side, if you can call it that, and mold my body to hers.

  “Talk to me,” she pleads. “Tell me everything is going to be okay.”

  I rip the Band-Aid off, knowing it needs to be discussed. It may not be the right time. Hell, there never is going to be a right time. “What are you afraid of, baby? Tell me.” I run my lips along her earlobe.

  “I lost her,” she whispers, clutching the front of my shirt in her tiny balled-up fist. “I did everything right, Cruz. I went into early labor. They tried to stop it but couldn’t. I had to push. After hours the doctor told us she no longer had a heartbeat. It was hell. I had to keep pushing. Then I held her for hours not wanting to let go.”

  I gulp and have no words for her, so I hold her tight to me.

  “What if it happens again?” she asks.

  “I can’t tell you it won’t.” I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling the power of each word. “The thing I do know is I’ll be here every step of the way. I’m never leaving you, Layla. You are stuck with me.”

  “You promise?” she asks, emotions thick in each word.

  “I promise. Nothing comes before you and our family, not even fighting or the gym.”

  She lifts her head. “You threw it all away today.”

  “No.” I smirk and tap her chin. “I gained the world today, better than any title.”

  “I love you, Cruz.”

  “Mi amora.”

  She presses her lips into mine for the briefest of moments before dropping her head back to the pillow. Her eyes flutter shut and her breathing begins to even out. If she thought I trained hard in the gym and was dedicated to fighting, then Layla has no idea how committed I am to building her back up.

  Epilogue

  Layla

  It’s been almost two and half years since Ash’s jealousy and rage came out to play. The day I thought I was going to lose my life. The joke was on him. I gained a new life. One I never thought possible.

  “Where’s he at?” Papi asks, walking up to me slinging his duffle over his shoulder.

  I point and grin like a fool watching Cruz jog up the terminal, juking and dodging hot lava on the tile floor with our daughter on his shoulders.

  She squeals and gasps with each leap. Her uncoordinated chubby fingers point the dangers out. She has Cruz wrapped around her little finger. Bella accomplished that the day she came out screaming.

  “Never seen a man so ready,” Dad remarks as they grow closer. “It’s his time.”

  I couldn’t agree more as I stare at my sexy-as-sin man.

  “Yes. Yes, it is.”

  The federation took away Cruz’s match in Vegas after the Ash incident and put him on probation. Dad and Cruz were determined to come out of the gates stronger than ever instead of waiting a year. They jumped in mid-season taking back the ring, and that’s what brings all of us here waiting to board a plane to Vegas.

  “Madre, Madre!” Bella squeals when she sees me.

  It warms my heart when she speaks Spanish. My abuela made sure I learned it and spoke it, same with Cruz’s dad, and we are doing the same with our daughter. Cruz sets her down on her feet. Her blinged out Chucks sparkle as she does her own form of the chubby toddler run. Her teal tutu flutters right along with her grandpa’s Diablo’s Throne logo printed on her shirt. Blinged out, of course. The first time I showed Cruz a custom piece of baby clothing with his father’s art on it, he cried. It was the second time I’d seen him cry. The other was when Bella was born.

  She kisses me and is off to my dad. She’s high, high energy just like her dad. Cruz falls into the seat next to me, lacing his fingers in mine, and kissing my cheek.

  “Hey, champ.” I turn my head and grin at him.

  He waggles his eyebrows then goes back to watching h
is daughter.

  “You nervous?” I ask him.

  “Nope.”

  “Liar.” I slap his chest.

  He leans in, whispering in my ear. “I already have everything I need. This is just another fight.”

  I turn my head until our lips meet. I kiss him long and hard, not giving a shit we are sitting in a busy terminal. Jag’s annoying voice breaks up our connection.

  “My princess!”

  “Wag!” Bella squeals and leaps off my dad’s lap.

  She throws her arms in the air and leaps into Jag’s chest. He’s squatted down and pretends she almost knocks him over.

  “Show me your moves.” He ruffles her hair, knocking her matching bow to the side. I swear he does that to piss me off.

  Bella puts both of her balled-up fists in the air.

  “Jab, jab,” Jag tells her.

  She does it.

  “Uppercut, uppercut.”

  She does.

  “Leg sweep.”

  And she does it, but this time Jag helps her stay upright. He picks her up whirling her around. Bella reaches into the pocket of his flannel shirt and pulls out a candy. I shake my head. It’s a losing battle and the sole reason I buy baby wipes in bulk.

  “You ready to go to Vegas?” he asks while studying her face.

  She wrinkles her nose at him, pops the sucker out of her mouth, and says clear as day, “Hookers.”

  Jag erupts in laughter. I’m up on my feet swatting his shoulder. Bella picks up on the fact she’s made her uncle Jag laugh and continues chanting “hooker.” I turn to Cruz for help. He’s biting down on his lower lip to cage in the laughter. My dad shakes his head and Bella continues to chant.

  I lean up on tiptoes and whisper into Jag’s ear. “Remember payback is going to be a bitch.”

  His features grow bitter. “You know that shit isn’t going to ever happen to me.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, big boy.” I pat his shoulder. “I thought the same thing once upon a time until a big bad fighter came into my life.”

  ***

  I keep my hand pressed to Cruz’s lower back as we make our way through the screaming crowd and flashes of cameras. The hype over Cruz Felix, The Notorious Rumbler, is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Dad keeps close to my free side and Jag at our backs with the rest of Diablo’s Throne surrounding us. We walk through it all with our heads held high.

  Crowds make me nervous. I’ve never overcome the trauma from the alleyway. It intensified the moment I found out I was pregnant and only multiplied by leaps and bounds once Bella was born. It’s something I have to deal with every day. The men surrounding me make sure I have nothing to worry about. They are my rock, and it doesn’t bother me a single bit.

  I glance up to Bella who is slumped on her dad’s chest. His large hand is splayed across her back, her chubby cheek pressed against the top of his shoulder. Cruz made sure a blanket had been pulled up to cover the majority of her face, giving me the perfect glimpse of our angel when I glance up. It’s his thing. He will never put his daughter in the spotlight. Ever. It’s his hard limit.

  Bella didn’t sleep a second on the plane. She squealed, bounced up and down, practiced her uppercuts with Jag, and basically entertained all of first class. But now in the middle of chaos she’s out like a light. All the fans hollering Cruz’s name over and over don’t do a thing.

  Security ushers us up to the massive suite in the MGM Grand. Papi insisted we all stay together. Once the door closes and silence settles all around us I realize how tired I am. I flop down on the couch kicking my feet up on the glass table. Bella begins rustling around on Cruz’s chest once he sits next to me.

  “Are you kidding me?” I whisper.

  It’s only a matter of seconds before her head pops up and she wipes away the sleep from her eyes.

  “She was out for like twenty minutes.” I shake my head.

  “Mommy, Mommy.” Bella smiles wide, leaping over to my chest. “Hookers.”

  Before I have a chance to reply Jag pipes up. “Hookers after our fight, baby girl.”

  She scrambles off my lap to race over to Jag and just like that she’s wide awake, raising hell. I melt into Cruz’s side, wrapping an arm low around his waist. He kisses the top of my head. His silent calm worries me as much as it exhilarates me. Cruz is in a place I’ve never seen him before. Magic is about to happen, I know it.

  A loud banging on the door ensues, followed by foul language and a blur of bright blonde hair. Bella races to the door, throwing her arms up and squealing at the top of her lungs.

  “Holy mother of vaginas and anal sex, it’s a zoo out there,” Darby announces, leading the pack into the room.

  Darby is a breath of fresh air. She’s a woman who is confident in her own skin and gives no fucks. She’s not by herself. Hell, she never is. The rest of the tribe follows her into the room.

  The woman I hated and let cause so much doubt enters with a smile that consumes all her features. Chloe. Cruz’s sister. Ends up she hates fighting as much as me but loves it at the same time because of the man who ties us together. Cruz and Chloe connected once they first met, as fucked up as it was. However, their relationship took time to develop. I can sit back and smile knowing it was the tribe of friends who surround Chloe.

  Cruz is up chasing Bella. Damn overprotective man. He scoops her up in his arms then hugs the hell out of his sister.

  “Hey, girl.” Kip comes up to me, arms wide open for a hug.

  I stand and hug the hell out of him. It’s insane how shut off I was to the world for years, then to be consumed by a gym of fighters and Cruz’s family is still a hard pill to swallow. At times, it takes me awhile to adjust then I realize without a second thought I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “I’m exhausted. Bella was a tornado on the plane charming everyone.”

  “And now Darby is here.” He gives me one final squeeze before stepping back.

  “Yep, I’m screwed.”

  “My sweet, sweet Bella.” Chloe scoops up her niece and strides over to me. “You look great, Layla.”

  She does her best to give me a one-armed hug.

  “You look like you’re ready to pop,” I reply, running my hand over her belly. “And where is my sweet nephew?”

  Jameson is wrestling around with his uncle, Cruz. We’ve been working on Chloe and Kip to move to Washington. Doubtful it will ever happen. We made a deal and have kept to it. We visit each other every other month, mixing up who goes to whose house. It’s something we hold sacred, wanting our children to know each other and grow up as close cousins.

  We sit around for hours relaxing and catching up. It’s what Cruz needs before the fight.

  ***

  Fight Day

  “Call me if you need anything,” I insist again for the tenth time. My nerves are at an all-time high.

  “Go.” Chloe pushes on my shoulder. “We will be just fine.”

  Chloe and Ava have play dough, finger paints, and all sorts of goodies spread out in our suite. Bella is so distracted she doesn’t even realize her dad is gone and I’m about to be. She typically clings to us in the rare times we leave her. Chloe and Ava are much like me and not fans of fighting. Chloe had planned to attend this match but took the out when our normal babysitter couldn’t make the trip.

  “Okay.” I fumble with my fingers.

  Chloe’s hand covers mine. “Stop. Go watch your man win the title then we have a wedding to plan.”

  “Oh, God! The wedding. I swear this was the dumbest idea ever.”

  “We got you, girl.” Chloe ushers me out of the room.

  The two security guards guide me to the bank of elevators. Each step I take echoes in my ears until I’m walking down a long corridor. I smooth my hand over my tight-fitting Diablo’s Throne t-shirt. I silently pray for Cruz’s safety the entire walk to my seat. I see familiar faces as I sidestep down the row. I don’t miss the cameras focusing on me for a few beats.

  I
hate that part. This is Cruz’s fight and time, not mine. Our ordeal is old news. I wish the damn media would pick up on that simple fact. I missed the earlier fights, interested only in the main event. A loud thumping rap song blares, encouraging the crowd to stand on their feet. Half of them are cheering while the rest are boo-ing Cruz’s opponent. I study him as he climbs the stairs to the ring. The bastard is enormous, flaring up my nerves. I could puke anytime.

  “Believer” by Imagine Dragons plays. The beat soothes me. The one song enveloping everything about the man I love. The one who healed my heart then stole it. It’s his forever. I stand on my chair to spot Cruz. Black silk robe with the hood that covers his head. It’s dropped facing the ground. He rolls his shoulders back and forth, bouncing a bit with each step as he nears the ring. There’s something so compelling about him at this moment.

  Flecks of vibrant teal bounce around as Cruz’s movements speed up. It all plays out in slow motion and also too fast for my liking. Papi and his team of coaches surround him in his corner. They wipe Vaseline over his face. The official checks his wraps and mouth guard, clearing him. The arena is out of control, the energy unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced.

  I feel a nudge on my leg and peer down to see Kip, Zane, and Rhett sliding into their seats.

  “Are you okay?” he mouths.

  I nod, clutching my hands to my chest and my sight going back to the ring. Kip clutches my leg, not believing me. I watch as Papi is in Cruz’s face slapping it and screaming. He only nods, taking in everything his coach says. We all know his opponent is matched closely to Cruz. Strong with his legs, stealth speed, and his punches are powerful enough to drop a man cold to the mats. It’s heavily predicted this match will end in a knockout between these two men.

  “C’mon, Cruz, be the fastest. Heart, fire, and desire,” I whisper to myself over and over.

  Someone from behind me hollers for me to get down from the chair. I am in the front row and have no excuse to be standing on the chair. Before I have the chance to step down, Rhett’s voice booms over the crowd.