“Are you okay, Sal?” Sophie murmured, sitting up and leaning toward the old man.
“Just got the wind knocked out of me,” he replied, breathless and nervous.
Sophie scrambled onto all fours, wondering if they should make a run for it and call security.
Her fingers touched her swollen cheek. The jerk had hit her.
But Sophie would have preferred another punch in the face to what Jerry intended to do next. “No,” she shouted, as the promoter shook her camcorder free of its bag and whirled it over his head.
“Nobody’s gonna know about this. Nobody. Got it? Or you’re gonna end up like your busybody camera here. Broken. Into. Pieces.” Jerry swung hard and let the camcorder fly. It hit the wall full throttle and shattered into chunky bits.
From her spot on the carpet, Sophie spotted the SD card lying next to the metal chunks of shattered viewfinder. Jerry headed over toward the wall for round two.
A distraction, that’s what was called for. He had to leave that card alone, no matter the cost.
“You don’t scare me, Jerry,” she heard herself shout. He pivoted on his heels and glared at her. Good.
“Shut your trap or I’ll shut it for you.”
“Oh no you won’t,” Sal hollered from his spot next to her.
“You too, old man. Don’t think I haven’t figured out that it’s your fault she was on the bus in the first place.”
Sophie rose up onto her knees and squared her shoulders. Despite her efforts, her hands shook. “That’s right, Jerry. I was on the bus, in the parking lot in Wichita, and back by the men’s room in Phoenix. And you know what I discovered?” She sucked in a deep breath, willing herself to continue and knowing full well the consequences. But, that SD card had to be saved, no matter what. “You’re going to end up in the cell next to Jaysin when I’m finished with your sorry, thieving ways.”
“Aw, Sophie. No. Don’t say anything else.”
Jerry practically ran over to them, his body shaking with fury. Then, he spit. A huge, wet gob landed on the carpet by her hand.
“When I’m done with you, the public won’t wanna see what happened to that pretty face of yours anymore.” She braced herself for another punch but he slammed his foot into her side. Hard enough that she crumbled to the floor.
“For God’s sake, Jerry. Caden is going to kill you when he figures out you hurt his girl.”
Jerry froze, midkick. Considering Sal’s words, and the consequences of his actions.
Sophie glanced at the SD card lying unprotected on the carpet. Maybe Jerry was too stupid to know that it contained everything.
“Wimp,” she shot out. “Beating up on a woman and old man. You throw a punch like a sissy, too.”
The ding of the elevator sounded through the open door. With a parting glare, Jerry stepped toward the door.
Thank God.
“One more thing,” Jerry said, almost to himself. He stopped, moved over to the wall and scooped up the SD card. Stalking back in front of them, he wedged it into the doorframe. Then, he slammed the door closed, and reopened it. With a growl, he repeated the action until the SD card became a small, twisted replica of her totaled BMW.
“If I hear a word outta you, if you trash me in the media or tell anyone about my shit, and the reason my Boys disqualified for Tetnus, and you’re gonna look like this.” He held up the SD card, then tossed it on the carpet next to her before he stalked out of her room.
Gently, she scooped up the card and touched it to her swollen cheek.
Her documentary. Her investigative report. Caden’s evidence. All gone.
She inhaled sharply. The pain in her side forced out a gasp.
“Sophie, honey. You’ve got balls of steel.”
She groaned. Her blue balls hadn’t been any help.
“I’m sorry, so very sorry. Whatever I can do to help you out.” She heard Sal way off in the distance. “You look like you’re gonna pass out. Hang in there, okay. Be right back.”
Her eyes rolled in back in her head. The last thing she saw was the ceiling.
Chapter Twenty-One
FULL MOUNT: No comment
One fighter—that’s what it took to pull Sal off Jerry.
Minor, compared to the four men struggling to separate Caden from the broken, bleeding man. Three rounds hadn’t been enough to quiet the uncontrollable rage within him. The asshole deserved everything coming his way.
“I warned you Caden was gonna kill you,” Sal said, his tone smug. And rightly so.
When Caden had found her crumpled on the floor and out for the count, he’d swallowed hard, as if it would hold back the black rage boiling up inside. He’d kept his control as he woke her up, fearful she had a concussion from that bastard’s punch. Sal informed him that the asshole had kicked her, too. Gently, he’d touched her side and made her tell him about the pain, assessing if anything was broken—hell, Bracken used to do the same assessment of his injuries when they’d been kids.
He’d kept his cool after she’d refused to go to the hospital. Who could blame her with Jaysin sure to be a few doors down? Instead, he helped her into bed and asked Sal to arrange for one of the medics on hand to take a look at her, and make sure she was gonna be okay.
Sophie’d murmured quietly as she rested her head on her pillow—something about her car. Then, she’d whispered his name.
Caden.
That’s the moment he’d lost it.
Twenty minutes later, Jerry’s nose was broken, his ribs probably fractured, and Caden was just warming up.
Jerry spat out a tooth. His eyes bugged out wide at the sight of it, which made him angrier, then stupid beyond belief. “You’re disqualified.” He threatened. “I’ll file the paperwork and make a statement from the hospital. You’re finished. You’ll never fight a professional MMA bout again.”
“Fuck you. Fuck your threats. I. Don’t. Give. A. Shit.”
Caden broke free and tackled Jerry back down to the ground. Over and over he pummeled the man’s face. Then, he went to work on his body. With every punch, he realized his dream was done—Tetnus was over for him. He wasn’t going to get away beating the promoter into pulp without consequences.
The image of Sophie curled up on the floor flashed before him.
Caden resumed his punches. If the guys hadn’t pulled him back off, he’d have killed him.
“That’s enough, Caden,” Sal admonished. Sal nodded at Jerry, like a Godfather who’d overseen justice being dished out. “That last beating was for destroying her camera and her career.”
When the EMTs arrived and silently loaded him onto the stretcher, the asshole still hadn’t learned his lesson. “Thought she was gonna rat me out. Had it on tape, that bitch. Guess I took care of that.”
“What is he mumbling about?” Caden glared at Sal.
“Sophie has been secretly filming him. Caught him running his shady bets, numerous times. He destroyed her camera and that tiny piece of plastic. The EZ thingamajiggy.”
“The SD card?”
“That’s it. Turns out that wee little thing had her entire documentary. Gone. I think that upset her more than the beating.”
No doubt it did.
“You’re gonna wish you never laid a hand on me,” Jerry continued, ignorant of the fact of how close Caden had come to finishing him off. “You’re gonna regret this.”
His hand flexed, sore from the two beatings he’d doled out tonight. So Sophie had been taping Jerry as well? Man, she had more nerve than any of his opponents, which was one more thing to love about her.
The thought calmed his racing heart. He stepped toward the stretcher, and immediately the four fighters tightened their hold on him. “I’m done, but there seems to be something Jerry doesn’t know. I mean to enlighten him.”
/> Jerry turned his head away as Caden approached the stretcher.
“It’s you who’s done, Jerry.”
He stiffened on the stretcher, and grunted in denial.
“Tell you what. You disqualify me from Tetnus, and you’re the guy who’s gonna regret it. Wanna know why?” He grabbed Jerry by the jaw and turned his head toward him. The man’s eyes flashed in alarm.
“I’ve got Sophie’s real SD card. The one you ruined was empty. It’s me, asswipe, who’s got all your bullshit on tape.”
* * *
Caden kicked off his sneakers and yanked off his sweaty gray running shorts. A cool blast of air greeted him. Housekeeping must have cranked up the air-conditioning after he’d headed out into the sweltering morning heat. The room smelled like sweet cinnamon and vanilla. Fresh, clean, and invigorating—so contrary to how he felt.
He loved her. But love wasn’t enough to keep someone safe—especially from a guy like him.
Self-control was key. The test he’d been putting himself through—that he could keep a level head and still be the toughest man out there.
So much for that emotional drivel of a dream.
A chip off the old bruiser block, that’s what he was. Last night proved he couldn’t keep his anger in check. Fuck, if Jerry miraculously reappeared at tomorrow’s event, Caden would do it all again. Despite his regrets. Despite knowing his brutal actions were likely driving the one thing he wanted more than Tetnus away.
He found little comfort knowing she was recovering and that the events of the past few weeks were neatly falling into place.
Word came late last night that Sophie was fine, aside from a swollen cheek and bruised ribs. Jaysin was on his way to jail—the hard evidence on her SD card was proof enough. Jerry had taken his place at the hospital, and according to Bracken, would soon join Jaysin in jail. Two more Boys had been eliminated from Tetnus for testing positive for steroids—they seemed to be the last of the dopers, though. The police had Sophie’s card. Everything was just freakin’ terrific.
Everything except the bigger matter—what to do about Sophie?
He’d bought her a new camcorder, along with two SD cards. But hadn’t heard a peep out of her. The medics told him she’d been sleeping the two times he’d knocked on her hotel room door. The third time, no one had answered.
Probably you’re not what she had expected out of an underwear model, he reminded himself. Man, if she heard about the beatings he put on Jaysin, and then Jerry...hell, she’d better make a run for it before it was too late. And he did something stupid, like tell her that he loved her.
Too late for that, you fool.
Bracken promised he’d make a complete copy of the SD card. A complete copy, with everything included. Everything...hell.
Maybe Bracken wouldn’t see it.
He rubbed a hand over his sore jaw. Sophie was going to be pissed off when she found out how he’d appropriated her card. Despite the fact that he’d unintentionally saved her documentary, and then some. She’d paid the price for that card at the hands of that weasel... fuck. One more reason why he’d bought her the best camcorder on the market. She needed to finish what she started, after all. Little did Sophie know that she still had the inside scoop. That her blue-balling days had just begun.
News crews swarmed the casino—he’d dodged them earlier after his run. Man, they loved the negative bullshit. And athletes taking steroids was hotter than Vegas right now. So much for putting a positive spin on Mixed Martial Arts. A shame—he’d been trying so hard to keep the drug abuse on the low and out of the press.
He rolled his neck, then headed into the enormous bathroom, bypassing the sunk-in Jacuzzi tub for the glass-enclosed shower. Turning the water on, he let it run until the bathroom fogged up. The water felt good on his weary muscles, his head.
It was done.
And, with all said and done, so were they.
He didn’t want to cause her—himself—any more pain. Better let go now, because life with him would be no cakewalk.
He finished up in the shower, turned the faucet off, and ran a towel over his taut, muscled body. Top physical shape. The best shape of his life. An emotional train wreck.
Wrapping the towel around his waist, he headed into the bedroom. What happened in Vegas, stayed in Vegas, which meant he had to delete the fucking videos, and then get out of there fast.
He stalked over to the window and opened the blinds, letting the early morning light into the room. Time to get dressed, and take care of business.
Over by the bed, he stopped and paused.
What the fuck?
Frowning, he scooped up the small bouquet of flowers—red tulips. A small envelope fell to the floor. His pulse began to race as he retrieved, opened it and read: Watch the video, sweet cheeks.
He scanned the room. Sure enough, the camcorder he’d bought her was on top of the bureau against the wall.
With three long strides, he was there, hunkering down in the chair next to the bureau with the camcorder perched on his knee, and pressing Play.
Sophie sat on the edge of her bed, her face angled to the side, likely trying to hide the bruise on her cheek. Caden stiffened, but relaxed when she spoke.
“Ha. Seems you aren’t the only one sneaking videos.” She grinned, clearly pleased with herself, before continuing on a more serious note. “Thank you for the camera, Caden. You know what a setback it is to have all my hard work destroyed. I wanted to tell you this in person, when you came to my room, but I had to come to terms with it myself. I’ve come to realize that the documentary doesn’t matter.” She paused, inhaled, then looked directly at the camera. “You are what is most important to me. I know you kicked the Double Jerks’ butts—thank you.” She fist pumped the air and added, “Woot, woot!”
Okay, maybe she wasn’t appalled by his brutal actions.
“My documentary would have exposed them both, but the ass-whooping you gave them was the next best thing. I’m leaving you this video to let you know I’m okay, to give you time to train without the drama that is my life, and to let you know that I’ll be there. I’ll be at Tetnus, cheering you on.”
He inhaled sharply. Fuck, now what am I gonna do?
She continued, her voice trembling as she spoke. “And, afterwards, I will be there for you, in your life, if you want me. You see, sweet cheeks, I love you.”
A tulip petal floated to the floor. Caden released his death grip on the bouquet, ready to hit Rewind.
But, it seemed Sophie wasn’t done yet. Her eyes glimmered mischievously—a look he was all too aware of—as she stared into the camera. “And, if you want to give a girl flowers, sweet buns, try a low-allergen variety, like tulips. I’ll be on the lookout for them.” She leaned forward, a close-up. He cringed at the sight of her blackened cheek.
Then she gave him the haymaker of all haymakers.
“Win Tetnus, and win big, Caden. But know I’ll love you no matter what happens.”
* * *
Within minutes of Sophie pressing record, Caden won his first in a series of bouts leading toward the welterweight championship. Three kicks, a punch to the nose, and tackling one’s opponent to the mat until he tapped out was all it took for Caden to win this match. His tough-as-sin brother was sitting up front and next to her, and was calmly assisting with her narrative, with Bracken informing her viewers that Caden had “taken down” his opponent, and Sophie translating that into layman terms—”a tackle with some wrestling about.”
Caden made it seem easy. Sophie knew the truth, though. How hard he’d trained. The focus required to anticipate an opponent and outmaneuver him. The discipline it took to become the best fighter out there.
Her documentary might have been destroyed but she had a whole future to look forward to documenting Caden Kelly, the warrior, the l
over, her love.
Or so she hoped.
This morning, she’d been surprised when the camcorder was returned to her without a response to her video. Zero. Nada. Zip. Of course, he’d seen it. She’d gone all out trying to draw his attention to it.
Did he know she was there in the audience, watching him fight? It was hard to tell because he hadn’t looked in her direction once.
Strangely enough, she did draw some comfort from the fact that his big brute of a brother had sought her out and, with a few select words as way of a greeting, had taken the seat beside her. Talk about getting off to a rocky start.
“Nice camera, chili bean,” he’d said. Her gaze had flown off the outdated camcorder he’d wedged into a beat up canvas bag—so different from the top-of-the-line, state-of-the-art one Caden had bought her—and studied his dark, bearded face. Hearing someone else use Caden’s nickname for her had made her warm inside, like he cared enough about her to share something special between them. Even with this street thug.
“It’s Sophie. Nice to meet you, Bracken,” she’d replied. His eyes had lit up briefly, confirmation enough that she’d guessed correctly. How else would he have known her nickname? Clearly this was someone Caden confided in. This brute was Caden’s brother.
The cop. A contradiction to what she’d figured a detective would look like, who sported a worn suit jacket, belted slacks, and a pencil tucked behind an ear. When Caden had talked about street-smart thugs, this hardened, leather-clad man was the image she’d pictured.
His appearance had been as shocking as his greeting, if that’s what you’d call it. He was Caden’s complete opposite in both appearance and attitude. Dark, unkempt, and formidable, with his crooked nose, long black shaggy hair and coarse beard. And, for every hundred smart-ass words Caden had to say, his brother had only a few, because after he’d introduced himself in such a dismal manner—as if he was intentionally trying to get a rise out of her—he had had little to say, except to correct her MMA vocabulary.
Jeez. What had she been expecting, anyway? A hug and a “Welcome to the family?”
“Be back in a few,” he stated, interrupting her silent assessment of him. Abruptly, he stood up, then paused and cocked his head at her, as if he were ascertaining her worth.
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