Slamming Demon: A Pounding Hearts Novel

by Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty

  I don’t even know what to do with myself right now.

  “Oh my god,” Grace gasps, and I don’t know if it’s for me or more for her, but she pulls me into another tight hug. “I’m so sorry, honey. You shouldn’t have had to do that. I should have been here…”

  I shake my head and resist the urge to shake her off. I love Grace, I do, and normally, I really need her hugs and sympathy. Besides my dad, she’s the only one who gives a fuck. But right now her good intentions are just making me feel worse. I need to steel myself and I can’t do that if she’s hugging down all my walls.

  “Even if you were here, it would have hurt, regardless,” I reassure her.

  And it would have.

  It might have been a hell of a lot harder if I had to watch Grace serve Brett, spying on him from a distance. This way, I got to enjoy his contempt for me up close and in person.

  And, “At least I got a huge tip out of it.”

  Grace leans back and blinks at me as if I’m crazy or something. “Seriously?”

  I nod my head.

  This is how I cope, finding a bright side even if what’s going on is bleak as fuck. Grace knows my methods, and must catch on that it’s what I’m doing.

  A little smile pulls at her lips and she drops her arms, playing along. “How much did you get tipped?”

  “After adding it all up, I made out with a little over two hundred dollars.”

  “Wow, that’s not bad for one table,” she says, impressed.

  I nod. It’s a good tip and lord knows I need the money. I’ve been broke since I returned from California.

  Right now I’m living with my dad in my childhood home, but I’d like to get out as soon as possible. He’s finally moved on from my mom, and has moved in his fiancé, Rebecca. It feels weird and awkward crashing with them by staying in my old room. Especially because Rebecca has a fourteen-year-old daughter.

  “I got a number, too,” I smirk and fish the little slip of paper out of my apron.

  Grace laughs at that. “One of the guys with him slipped you his number?”

  I smirk and nod. “Yeah, but it’s weird though.”

  “How is it weird?” Grace holds out her hand, expecting me to hand it over.

  I offer the little slip to her and she laughs at first before asking, “What the fuck? How were you clapping? And why would you give him a call when you stopped?”

  Brett

  I turn onto the highway leading back to the city and look over to Bear. He’s looking out the window. When I finish talking, he looks down at his phone and switches it to another Britney song.

  Looking at me, he asks, “So, you never saw her again?”

  “Nope.”

  “Still angry though?”

  “Yes… No… I don’t really know. It was a shock to see her back here again. I looked her up a couple of times, but never really saw anything about her. I figured she might have taken on a new name, but I never saw her in the movies or on TV.”

  I lean back into my seat and just drive. No thoughts, no past, just the smooth lanes of highway.

  It takes us about an hour to get close to the city. Half the time we are listening to Britney Spears for Bear and the other half we are listening to some good rock music for me.

  I don’t really know how seeing Mandy affects me. It was a shock to be sure, but it’s been almost six years. Why should it have any effect on me? I’m not the same high school boy anymore. Though, those small flutters in my stomach and my flesh growing hot was jarring.

  But fuck it, and fuck her.

  We were a high school item, and those don’t last usually. So why should this time be different?

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “Not a damn thing. Live my life. It’s not like we were meant to be. People split up all the time.”

  “Don’t seem like it to me. You had that cute little thing eating out of your hand, and then all of a sudden you drop her like a bad habit as soon as you see Mandy. It doesn’t seem like this thing is over to me.”

  “Let’s drop it, alright?”

  “Yeah, yeah, dropping it.”

  “Thanks.”

  We pull up in front of my house and Bear starts to get out of the truck. Pausing, he says “So this was your parents’ house?”

  Nodding my head, I say, “Yeah, it was.”

  I kept the house thankfully when they passed. I was in a world of hurt and had no clue what to do. I had no clue how to make house payments or keep up on my homeowners insurance. My parents friend, who was a lawyer, helped me out there and so did my family. I have thought about selling the house a couple of times and making a new start. But it hasn’t felt right to me.

  I had to grow up pretty damn fast, I had a lot of money from different insurance policies. I had a lot of stuff to get through though and I forced myself to go through college and get my degree in history. Didn’t do too much for me though. I have been fighting pretty steadily since then.

  I earned my nickname though Chase calling me the Demon. I fight like one in the ring. It’s said I don’t stop until either I am thoroughly unable to fight anymore or my opponent is knocked the fuck out.

  “So we going to go to the fights in a couple of weeks?”

  Neither of us are on the card, but we try to always go to lend our support to the guys from the gym.

  “Yeah, I’m down for that.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mandy

  Five years in Hollywood, a total bust. But one month back home in Trenton and I land my big break.

  My agent, James, was so desperate to still make a buck off of me that he sent out my headshots to all the local agencies. I didn’t really think anything would come of it, but surprisingly the professional MMA league expressed an interest in me. I know Brett has gone professional with the league, and just the thought of running into him again makes me break out in a nervous sweat. But the salary they’re offering me to be a ring girl, a girl who just walks around in a bikini with a card held up for the audience, is straight up ridiculous. The money is too good to pass up. It’s way more than I’ll ever be able to earn as a Thursday’s waitress.

  I took the audition and nailed it. My first gig is next week, and I’m so excited I call Grace on my drive home to share my good fortune.

  “Well?” Grace asks as soon as she picks up. “Did you get it?”

  “Yes!” I squeal, and I hear not only her but Hope as well squealing on the other end.

  “Yay! You so deserve it, honey.” Grace tells me, and I know she truly means it. Besides my parents, she’s my biggest fan.

  I sigh, feeling some of the weight of the world dropping away. It’s just such a relief to finally get a break. “You girls want to celebrate with me? I’m thinking ice cream sundaes.”

  “Ice cream!” Hope squeals in the background and I can’t help but chuckle.

  “I’ll swing by and pick you up.”

  Twenty minutes later and I’ve got Grace and Hope with me. We’re squeezed into a booth in Moo’s Creamery, digging into hot fudge sundaes. I laugh at Hope as she shovels a giant spoonful of ice cream with sprinkles into her mouth and gets some whipped cream stuck on the tip of her little button nose.

  “Hope,” Grace sighs and rolls her eyes at me before swiping the cream off with her thumb and licking it clean. “Slow down or you’ll upset your tummy.”

  “Yes, mommy,” Hope says sweetly but her next bite is just as big.

  I swear Hope is a miniature version of Grace. She has her mother’s same beautiful long blonde hair and glowing brown eyes. And I know from experience she can be just as mischievous. Sometimes I blink and it’s like seeing Grace sitting across from me in preschool all those years ago. It can be quite the mind trip.

  “So what exactly are your duties as a ring girl? I want all the dirty details,” Grace smirks as she dips her spoon into her own sundae. “So I can live vicariously through you.”

  I shift my eyes towards Hope and know I’ll hav
e to be careful with what I say and how I say it. “My job is pretty much to look well, pretty,” I smirk back at Grace. “Once a month is the actual ring girl thing, where I walk between the bouts with a card. But all the other stuff is modeling for their promotional things or being there for weigh-ins. It’s not acting… it’s actually more of what my mother wanted to do.”

  “Oh my god, she’s going to be so jealous,” Grace laughs. “Heck, I’m jealous. But not of that bikini you have to wear. You can’t hide anything in it.”

  “No, you can’t,” I laugh. “And I have to wear that thing in front of an entire arena. Not to mention it will be broadcast on television…”

  “Yeah, but you totally look hot in it,” Grace winks at me and I roll my eyes right back at her.

  “Whatever,” I say and bite my tongue to keep from tacking on a “bitch” after it. It’s been a struggle over the past four years, but we’ve managed to cut that word from our vocabulary– at least around the munchkin.

  “I’m going to have to watch what I eat, so no more sundaes for me, and I’ll have to put in some extra hours at the gym to stay fit.”

  “Oh, poor you,” Grace mocks me, and we both end up laughing.

  Wiping tears from the corners of my eyes, I take a small bite of my sundae.

  “Seriously, though,” Grace says, sobering. “Aren’t you afraid of running into Brett? Isn’t he like an MMA star now? You’re kind of impeding on his turf.”

  I sigh and take another huge bite of my sundae. If we’re going talk about Brett I’m going to need more chocolate.

  “No. Yes. Maybe? I mean I’ve already run into him and I survived it. Maybe next time it won’t be as bad?”

  Grace frowns at that. “Maybe.”

  I narrow my eyes are her. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means,” she says, eyes shifting towards Hope, “I think you’re trying to downplay everything. I think being so close to him might drive you crazy.”

  I sigh yet again and drop my spoon into the sundae, abandoning it. I hate that Grace is probably right. But downplaying it is the only way I can survive it. The only way to keep on living.

  “I can’t pass up this chance. I just can’t. Five years of nothing, and finally some kind of success is within reach. I have to do this, even if it means breaking my heart again every time I see him. In the end, it will be worth it.”

  “Oh, honey,” Grace says, scooting close to me and giving my arm a squeeze. “Forget I said anything, okay? You have every right to take this job. And if he doesn’t like it, if he’s mean to you, tell me and I’ll kick his butt.”

  I laugh at that. I could picture Grace trying to do just that. “You really mean it? You’d kick an MMA fighter’s butt for me?”

  Grace winks and gives my arm another squeeze. “Only because you’re so pretty.”

  “You are pretty, Aunt Mandy,” Hope suddenly pipes in.

  “Thank you, sweetheart,” I smile at Hope. “I think you’re pretty too.” She is such a wonderful little person. Sometimes I feel a pang when I’m around her. Moments like this make me almost want my own little person.

  “When I grow up, I want to be a ring girl like you.” Hope looks between us, clearly expecting approval for what she just said.

  Grace and I are so shocked at first that we just stare at each other with wide eyes before bursting into another fit of laughter.

  Hope beams, taking our laughter as approval. “And I’m going to buy hot fudge sundaes with extra sprinkles for all my friends.”

  * * *

  Today is officially my first day as a ring girl. It’s not a hard job when I break it down inside my head. I just have to look good in the bikini, smile at the crowd and strut my hips between bouts. Easy, right? But I’m still nervous as fuck.

  Knowing my luck, I’ll probably fall on my face or something. There’s always the chance I could break a heel or worse, hold up a card with the wrong number on it. And even if nothing goes wrong, if everything goes as planned, I still have to walk around the cage in front of a sold-out arena. Hundreds of eyes will be staring at me, judging me, and the whole thing will also be broadcast live on national television. There is absolutely no room for mistakes. If I fuck up, I’ll be the laughingstock of Trenton.

  I take a deep breath before I step into the woman’s dressing room and know Grace would tell me to suck it up, bitch, you got this.

  The back of the arena is barely controlled chaos with fighters, trainers, and officials milling about or disappearing into the rooms. You can hear some of the guys getting themselves pumped up, talking shit about their opponents to whoever will listen. Some of them even roar and pound things.

  And the smells, my god, the smells. Being back here kind of reminds me of a zoo.

  Walking into the women’s dressing room is almost like stepping into another world. I hear laughter, the light lilting voices of other women, and it smells more like flowers and candy than sweaty jock straps and stinky gym shoes.

  “Mandy?” a girl calls out to me as I walk around a corner to see a vanity taking up the entire back wall of the room.

  The upper half of the wall is all mirror and bright white spotlights while the lower half is a counter covered in a plethora of cosmetics and perfumes. Sitting in front of the vanity are four other very pretty girls who swivel in their chairs to look at me.

  “Hi,” I smile nervously and wave. I hope this isn’t like high school where I’ll have to act cool to get the popular clique to like me.

  “Hey, girl,” the brunette on the right says. She pats the empty chair next to her. “Pull up a chair, we’ve been waiting on you.”

  I smile gratefully and shuffle over to my chair. “I’m Mandy,” I say politely and giggle. “But I guess you girls already know that.”

  “I’m Sarah,” the brunette waves.

  “Jill,” the blonde next to her smiles.

  “Lauren,” the next blonde says.

  “Nicole,” says the girl with striking red hair.

  They all seem friendly, which is such a relief. You never know with other girls. Sometimes they hate you just to hate you.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I say then giggle again, ugh. I’ve got a bad case of the nervous giggles.

  They all smile back at me.

  “Nervous?” Sarah asks.

  I answer with a nod of my head.

  “Don’t worry,” Jill smiles at me. “We got you.”

  Lauren digs around in a huge black purse she has resting on the counter. After pulling out a silver flask, she tips it back, taking a deep drink before handing it off to the blonde to her left, Jill. Jill then takes a quick swig and passes it on to Sarah. Sarah just shakes her head before holding it out to me.

  “What is it?” I ask, accepting the flask and giving the mouth a little sniff. Whew, whatever it is smells so strong it could strip the red polish off of my nails.

  “Raspberry Vodka,” Lauren answers. “Charlie bought it for me. He’s trying to score some points.”

  “Ew,” Jill says, wrinkling her nose. I can’t tell if she’s ewing the guy or the booze.

  Not wanting to come off as stuck-up or rude, I brace myself then take a quick swig from the flask. The cheap shit burns all the way down. I can feel my eyes watering and I fight back a cough.

  Sarah bursts into laughter.

  Lauren sighs. “You guys are such pussies. It’s not that bad.” She holds out her hand for the flask and I pass it back to Sarah who passes it over to her.

  “We’re not pussies,” Nicole pipes in with a smirk. “You just have no standards when it comes to men or booze.”

  Lauren rolls her eyes and slips the flask back into her purse. Then she pulls out some mints and pops one into her mouth. “I have standards.” She passes around the box and we all help ourselves to one. “I’m just willing to accept substitutions if my standards cannot be met.”

  Nicole rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

  Jill laughs.

&nb
sp; Lauren winks at me as she slips the mints back into her bag. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

  “Speaking of which,” Sarah says as she claps her hands together and looks at me with some kind of wicked glee. “You’re fresh meat. All the guys around here are going to want to do you.”

  “What?” I blink at her, not sure if I can take her seriously. The booze was cheap but I can already feel a slight buzz warming me.

  Nicole nods in agreement. “Yeah, don’t be surprised. The guys are going to be all over you.”

  “Why?” I ask, feeling my cheeks warming.

  The last thing I need or want is a bunch of MMA guys hitting on me. I mean, I’ve already dated one and looked how that worked out. Ugh. I just want to do my job and make money. I’m not looking to hook up.

  “You’re new and you’re hot,” Sarah says swiveling in her chair to check herself out in the mirror. “And they get really worked up after the fight. Even if they lose they want to screw.”

  That sounds… kind of horrifying.

  “Just don’t screw any of these guys fighting tonight,” Nicole says. “They’re not worth it.”

  “Oh?” I ask, half expecting them to tell me something smart like you shouldn’t mix business with pleasure. Or you shouldn’t shit where you work.

  “Half of these guys’ careers will be finished tonight. They’re mostly amateurs,” Nicole explains.

  “Total losers,” Jill nods in agreement.

  “Wait until next month,” Sarah tells me. “Those are the guys you wanna do.”

  “So no screwing until next month,” I smirk and start to pull my own products out of my bag. “Got it.” Leaning forward, I swipe some mascara over my lashes. I actually have no plans of screwing anyone but I’ll play along. I want to make friends not frenemies with these girls.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?” Jill asks and I can feel each of them looking at me.