by Alice Ward
“Last anyone saw her she was living on the streets. That was about ten years ago.” Before my voice broke, I got out of the car. Going around to her side, I opened the door.
Cherry’s eyes were big and luminous, holding tears not shed yet. When she opened her mouth to voice what my heart bled every day, I shook my head.
“We’ll get your coat on the way back.” So that she couldn’t argue, I turned and headed inside, leaving her to catch up.
It was the right place, that was for certain. There was a long line snaking around the edge of the interior, leading to a table where several people held clipboards. Without a word, I got into line, Cherry following.
Thanks to me and my gloom and doom in the car, neither of us were in a chatty mood, so we just silently scoped out the competition. I could turn to her, make small talk, but I didn’t do small talk. In my opinion, it was usually a waste of energy. I engaged for networking purposes, when I wanted to know something or had something to say, like at conferences or parties, and this was neither.
Glancing over at her, her eyes were huge, and she was kind of bouncing on her toes, looking both excited and nervous.
I cleared my throat, trying to shed the mood I’d dredged up by spilling my guts. “So, what they’re probably going to do is find a way to disqualify anyone they think could actually beat or injure Roberto.”
“What?” Cherry leaned closer, half whispering. “What if they think I could beat or injure him?”
The guy behind us heard her, gave a smirk as he snorted. “You here to fight, baby? I got an open schedule. I’ll make sure you don’t get hurt, treat you real good.” He stopped nodding his head when I gave him a shut-up-or-die glance.
Cherry shot me a do you see the assholes I put up with look.
“They won’t think that. It’s your golden card.”
“So…” she began uncertainly. I didn’t like that tone on her. She was at her most alluring when she was confident and full of fire. “Anything I should say?”
“Nothing about illegal fighting. You were trained at a dojo in the slums and a bit in college. Thought this would be fun.”
“And what if they won’t let me in?”
“They will.”
I could feel her bristle at my short response, but I found it interesting. “How do you know?”
I purposely turned only my head, met her eyes, then let them drop. Slowly. To her cleavage, then her breasts. Waist. The flaring hips that made me want to plant my hands there and press my body to hers, grind against her, make her gasp like she did when she was under me. When my eyes made their slow return trip, there was a light sheen on her face, a hitch in her breath. I smiled and winked.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Cherry
My skin practically burned every time Caleb looked at me, and I wanted to squirm inside my tight jeans. I didn’t ask any more questions in the solid hour it took us to reach the table, which was the longest hour of my life, spent pushing one fantasy after another with Caleb as the star out of my head and making sure my breathing remained as level as possible.
As we approached, one of the men behind the table looked up at Caleb with a smile. “Are you signing up for the fight?”
“No,” I answered flatly. “I am.”
Caleb moved to the side, allowing me to step closer. The man looked from me to him then back to me, as if he wasn’t sure that I was serious, which was what we were shooting for but was still irritating. Surprisingly, he handed over the paperwork without a snarky remark.
I turned away, staring at the paperwork.
“What’s wrong?” Caleb asked, his concerned blue eyes raking my face.
“I understand that this is a huge chance to get my name out there. Above ground. But everything is going so fast. I just need to breathe for a minute.”
“Okay.” Caleb ran one hand through his hair, mussing its perfection.
“I mean, I’m signing up for a fight I know I can’t win. It seems counterintuitive to everything I’ve learned.”
“I know you’ve fought plenty of people who were twice your size, but none of them have been professionals. Illegal fighters have all sorts of tricks up their sleeves. You’re good, Cherry, but I’m sure Hawk made sure to put you up against people you’d have advantages over.”
I smiled, missing Hawk a little. “Yeah. I didn’t realize how much at the time. They were either fighters whose floor work wasn’t very good, or maybe their escapes never got practiced because people didn’t put them in holds enough. Hawk made sure that I would have an edge to work with. But this guy, this Roberto, isn’t going to have any glaring flaws like that.”
Understanding dawned in Caleb’s eyes. “You think he’s unpredictable, you’re used to having a heads up.”
“Pretty much.”
Caleb shrugged. “So we study him. Find all his fights, watch them until we have every weakness. Everybody has weaknesses, even the best fighters.”
“That’s a great idea.” I took a pen and began filling out the form. I’d lost four fights in the past year. I also won ten. Although that was a good ratio, it wasn’t a beating a professional in a higher weight class ratio. “Just so you know, I’m not going into this thinking about losing.”
A wide grin spread over Caleb’s face. “I like your attitude. You go into this whatever way you want, as long as you listen to Andre. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. It’ll help get your name on people’s lips before even debuting.”
I finished the packet and handed it off to Caleb, following him as his long legs cut across the gym to the guy in the blue shirt. His confidence seemed effortless. It made me wonder exactly what kind of person he was on his own time. I didn’t know much about him, like what his hobbies were, what kind of movies he liked. For someone who had literally been inside me, I knew next to nothing about him beyond that he was rich and the son of someone who was richer.
There was a pull, an invisible force that pushed me toward him, whether I wanted it to or not. Truth be told, I wanted to get to know him, but I couldn’t with this awkward distance between us. I needed to make up my mind. I either needed to scrub our heated tryst out of my memory or acknowledge the intense sexual attraction between us. I couldn’t have it both ways.
I was jolted out of my thoughts by a dismissive, snide tone.
“You’re seriously entering this woman to fight Roberto?”
I blinked and made eye contact with the guy in the blue shirt just as he threw back his head and laughed.
“Yes, I’m entering,” I said, pasting a sweet smile across my face. “My money is just as good as anyone’s.”
He snorted and handed Caleb a clipboard full of papers after taking a check and the packet from Caleb. “The doctor will never pass you. Enjoy your superhero complex, honey, but this is the real world. Around the corner there and down the hall.”
“Whatever you say, big man.” I batted my eyes and moved past him.
“You were right about the man’s world thing. I never realized,” Caleb remarked, his voice tense.
“I’m used to it. The bigger the guy, the more ruffled his ego gets when someone like me dares to infringe.”
I risked a glance and saw the corner of his lip raise ever so slightly. “Those who aren’t secure in their masculinity are often frightened of anything that might be remotely feminine.”
My fingers itched to touch him so I made a fist, so they wouldn’t have the chance. “It’s, uh, kinda cool that you get that. Most people don’t.”
“Believe me, the business world is full of those propped up on their money and sports cars but with no security in themselves. You take it away, and they’re just frightened little boys with no confidence.”
“And you’re not like that, of course.”
He looked down at me and raised a single eyebrow. I didn’t know what it was about his direct gaze, but it always managed to make my skin grow heated. “You tell me.”
All I could do was shake my head. No,
he wasn’t like that at all. Caleb exuded confidence. I was saved from having to answer as we reached the open door at the end of the hall, and Caleb knocked on the frame before walking in.
“Go ahead and take a seat, I’ll—” The doctor, a dark-haired, good-looking guy who looked straight out of med school, was preoccupied with filling out paperwork, but looked up at me and did a double take. “Ring girl auditions are going to be at another time.”
Cute. Very cute.
“I’m not here to apply to be a ring girl,” I answered, pasting that same sickly-sweet smile on my face. My first reaction whenever someone said something grating about my gender was to go honey-toned, and I always found that it unsettled people far more when I treated their comment as if it was amusing — in a patronizing sort of way — rather than getting angry. Too often people took pride in being able to ruffle someone’s feathers, and I wasn’t willing to give them that sort of satisfaction. “I’m going to fight.”
He scoffed, his face forming the same expression the man in the blue shirt had. “I know boxing probably sounds fun, but this is serious.”
How had he been able to hear anything in medical school with his head shoved so far up his own rectum?
I fluttered my eyelashes, my core temperature rising, making my control slip a little. “If you doubt my sincerity, you’re always welcome to—”
Caleb stepped forward. “You are the one who gives the fighters final approval, correct?”
“Yes…” the man answered slowly, looking between the two of us as if he wasn’t sure whether we were pranking him.
“What would it take to make sure that my fighter ends up in the ring?”
I threw him a sharp look. “I don’t need you to bribe my way in.”
“It’s not a bribe,” he answered calmly. “It’s an assurance that your physical will be one hundred percent fair.”
“I’m a doctor,” the man answered primly. “What on Earth makes you think I’ll take a bribe?”
“You’re a young doctor, which means you get the worst shifts and you still have plenty of student loans. Or you wouldn’t be here.” Caleb swept his hand out to indicate the nontraditional setting. The doctor colored. “I would be more than happy to help, in exchange for examining Cherry with an open mind.”
The doctor crossed the room and shut the door. “Ten thousand dollars,” he said with a smirk.
“Perfect.” Caleb pulled his checkbook from his wallet. “And who do I make that out to?”
The doctor stared at Caleb for a moment, clearly flabbergasted, and my jaw dropped.
Ten grand?
He’d just poof agreed to that like it was nothing, like it was ten bucks and not half of what my mom made in a year.
As soon as Caleb handed over the check and the doctor inspected it, he snapped to attention and went about with the examination. He listened to my heart, peered into my ears and mouth, had me do some simple stretches, then stand on one foot and then the other. He instructed me to do a minute of jump roping after which he checked my heart rate again.
Without a word, he scribbled on several papers then knocked on a door on one side of the room. A woman stepped out, took the forms and handed him a stiff blue card.
“Congratulations, you’re the fifteenth person accepted into our event. This card contains all the information you will need to log onto our website where you can find your fight time and any other information you need. Remember, we are not responsible for any injuries you may incur, up to and including death.” He flashed a bright, sincere smile and I guessed that money really could change anyone’s attitude. “Good luck, truly.”
I took the card and gave him my own beaming grin. “Thank you.”
Walking out of the gym, I couldn’t stop staring at the blue card that represented my entrance to legal fighting. It felt a bit surreal.
At the car, Caleb popped my bubble when he said with a grin, “Coat shopping time.”
***
Back at the gym, after Caleb instructed the people at Macy’s to have the coat and several outfits he insisted I have delivered to my house, we told Andre the good news.
I was going to be in a televised, and more importantly, legal, fight. With a professional!
“Well I’ll be,” Coach said. “I thought they would put up a lot more fight than that.”
“I’m very convincing,” was all Caleb said before turning and giving a secret wink before heading to his office downtown.
“How was your appointment, Andre?”
Andre grinned. “Great. We’ll be setting up a court date and airline arrangements. Hopefully, we’ll get to bring him home. If everything is in line in Africa. Sometimes, the legalities are difficult there.”
He pulled out a photo of a chubby-cheeked baby who had a happy glint in his deep brown eyes.
“He’s precious! I hope everything goes smoothly.”
Our conversation turned to preparing for the upcoming fight. There was extra pressure to make sure I did my best or I would be used as an example by people who wanted to prove that women shouldn’t fight.
The thought built a fire in my belly, and it licked its way up my spine. More than ever, I was determined to show the world exactly what I could do, what women could do. Whatever was going on with Caleb and I would have to wait. I had a name to make for myself.
Even if it kills me, I’m going to impress in this fight.
I thought I knew pain.
I thought I knew suffering.
I knew nothing.
From that moment, Andre had me running laps around the gym and doing stretches, traditional exercises like push-ups, even plyometrics. I’d never jumped so much rope, stepped into so many lunges. I’d certainly never balanced with my toes on a box and my hands on the floor. It was planking, torture style.
I wanted to go longer in the upcoming fight than anyone would expect, even Andre and Caleb. I wanted the fame, but also the money the publicity would ultimately bring. For my family, but also so Caleb didn’t feel obligated to buy things he thought I needed.
I wasn’t sure why he did it.
A washer and dryer had been delivered to my house the day after I informed him I needed to go to the laundromat. It was sweet, but I didn’t want his gifts. The only reason I hadn’t sent them back was because of the tears that had rushed from Mama’s eyes.
I pushed myself even harder.
It was borderline scary how well Caleb seemed to understand me when he was still such a mystery to me. And as much as I tried to pretend I didn’t notice practically every breath he took, I’d feel the air in the gym change whenever he walked in and had to keep myself from staring.
Despite my vow to pretend like nothing had happened between us, I constantly found myself remembering what it felt like when he was inside of me. How strong he had been, how dominant. He was everything my body craved and more, and I hated admitting that, even to myself.
The one upside to Andre working me so hard was that I didn’t have much energy to fantasize about sex.
But by the fourth day, my nerves were standing on end, and I could practically feel each cell in my body crying out for mercy. That morning, I practically limped into the gym and was quickly stopped by Caleb.
“What’s wrong?” he asked in a demanding tone. The electricity that was always pinging about in the air between us zinged into my chest.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
His gaze dropped down the length of me. “Like hell. You were limping.”
He searched my eyes and stood there for a second as if trying to make up his mind. “I’ll be back. Only warm-ups until then,” he ordered firmly before walking away.
I sighed. Normally I would take offense at being sternly commanded as if I were a child, but it just felt… right coming from Caleb. I was in his domain, after all, so it made sense to take a little direction from him, and I knew whatever he had in mind would be to my benefit and that there was no sense in using precious energy to battle with him. Cale
b always won.
However, after thirty minutes of warm-ups with Andre going way easier on me than normal, I was beginning to feel a bit miffed. So I didn’t say much when Caleb came to get me, leading me past his office to a room that I’d never been in before. I gasped when he opened the door to a massage table, gentle music, and the scent of lavender floating out.
“I hired a massage therapist to help your recovery time. From here on out you’ll have a short, twenty-minute sports massage before you workout to help warm up your muscles and increase flexibility, then a Swedish massage afterward to help flush the lactic acid from your system and improve your muscle repair.”
I just stared at him in surprise. “Oh.”
“What? Do you have an issue with a stranger touching you?” He said it matter-of-factly as if he wouldn’t judge my answer.
“No, not at all. I’ve just… never had a professional massage.”
For the tiniest of seconds, something akin to surprise flickered across his face. I had a feeling that sometimes my lack of life experiences surprised him just as much as his status flustered me. We came from two different worlds, for sure, and incompatible ones at that.
Too bad I wasn’t feeling very incompatible with him standing so close to me, that intense look in his eyes.
But then his attention shifted down the hall behind me and the moment was over.
A tall, willowy woman with curly, red hair pulled into a bun joined us. Smiling, she addressed me. “Hi, I’m Sophie, I’ll be your massage therapist. I hear that you’re training for a very important fight?”
“Yes. Very.” I offered my hand, and she shook it enthusiastically.
“That sounds awesome! I specialize in mid to deep pressure, but I have plenty of experience in light pressure too. So, whatever works best for you, we can do.” Her smile made her look welcoming. She looked like a fitness model, all soft skin and aesthetically pleasing muscle lines, and I couldn’t help but think that she was the type of woman I could see Caleb with.