The Fight (A Standalone Novel) (MMA Bad Boy Romance)

by Adams, Claire

  "Oh, God, please don't say it."

  "What?" Kev asked. "That Sienna has set her sights on Jackson McRay? What can I say, the man is like a living breathing Ken doll and everyone wants to play house with him. Or doctor. I don't know. Even Sandi says he's handsome. You heard her."

  "I am sick of hearing about Jackson McRay. There's something off about him. Nothing a good punch to the jaw wouldn't cure," I said. I slammed the shot and stood up.

  Kev jumped off his bar stool. "Whoa, wait, what's happening? That's just good old fashioned jealousy talking. And everyone knows that jealousy is the number one way to get into trouble. Didn't you just say you wanted to clean up your act?"

  "And, you told me not to," I said. "So, how about I go have a conversation with Mr. McRay? Where's the golf luncheon?"

  "I have no idea," Kev said. He looked over my shoulder.

  "Liar. Get a cab. We're going."

  Kev fidgeted the entire cab ride to the Wynn Hotel and Casino. When we got out, he tried his best to distract me.

  "I hear they have a helluva pool here. How about some drinks and good scenery?"

  "No."

  "There's a shop here that makes custom cologne. Eau d' Marital Arts Fighter? Might be a good thing to try. Maybe you want a product line."

  "No."

  Kev jumped in front of me and held up his hands. "They're never going to let us in. I know I said I wanted you to keep up the bad boy image, but another run-in with security is not the way to go."

  I marched up to the first photographer I saw. "You know who I am?"

  "The fighter, Fenton Morris," he said.

  "I need to have a little talk with Jackson McRay. Want to make that happen?" I asked.

  "Yes, sir," the photographer said. He ran over and had a quick talk with the doorman, money was exchanged, and we were in.

  We entered the banquet room. It was hard to tell what people stared at more – my tattoos or my jeans. I was clearly not luncheon material.

  "What's wrong with this picture?" Kev asked.

  "You mean besides a bunch of men in pastel shirts and plaid pants?"

  "Yes, besides that." Kev turned all the way around and searched the room. "Shouldn't we be hearing a high-pitched giggle and seeing a blinding flash of camera lights?"

  "So Sienna's producer talked her out of it," I said. "I still want to talk to Jackson."

  "No, Sienna's producer is right there," Kev pointed.

  "With her entire camera crew," I said. We marched across the room. A few golfers pulled their wives out of our way and made nervous glances towards security.

  "The cameras aren't rolling? Has the world ended?" I asked Sienna's producer.

  He shrugged his shoulders. "Jackson McRay wanted to discuss their appearance before we started shooting."

  "And, you didn't go with?" Kev asked.

  Again the producer shrugged and glanced at the manager's office door. "He wanted to talk to Sienna alone."

  "You sure they're just talking?" Kev asked.

  "It’s not my job to babysit her. Sienna does what she wants."

  At that moment, we all heard a very clear "no!" Sienna said it again, but her voice was muffled. The producer's eyes widened, but he did nothing. So, I kicked in the door. Kev followed and shut the door behind us.

  Jackson had Sienna pushed against the mahogany desk of the banquet room's manager. She was pushing against him, but he did not move. His hands gripped her thighs and held her pinioned.

  "What the hell?" I asked.

  "Of course, you'd be the only one to invade our privacy," Jackson said. He did not let go of Sienna.

  "I said stop, Jackson," she cried.

  "Sure, play it up for them," Jackson said. "As if you didn't want it bad. All that flirting in front of the camera. Your whole show is built around you tempting guys. It’s about time someone gave you what you're asking for."

  "Stop!" Sienna said. "I didn't want to come in here with you. I didn't want any of this."

  "You heard the lady," I said. I stepped across the room to Jackson and held up my fists.

  He let her go and laughed. "Come on, you of all people are going to play the hero? The cameras aren't even on. Tell me you didn't do the same thing after she hung all over you."

  I shook my head. "No, I didn't."

  "Well, that's the difference between us. You have to fight for everything you want. I was raised differently. Everything is available to me. That's what really burns you, isn't it? I can just take whatever I want," Jackson said.

  "Then take this," I said. I lunged towards him and threw a hard jab.

  Kev grabbed me just in time. My momentum carried us over to slam against the desk. Jackson stepped aside and grabbed Sienna's arm.

  "So heroic for nothing. Come on, let's find somewhere more private," he said. "I mean, you wouldn't want your little reality show to get slammed with a slander lawsuit, would you? You might not understand much about business, but you realize that's bad for your image, right?"

  Sienna looked at me, confused. She let Jackson start to pull her out the back door of the office.

  "What do you think you're doing?" I asked Jackson.

  "Taking what she offered. There's no crime in that," Jackson said.

  "She said 'no,' Jackson, and you're going to have to deal with that," I said. "You can't force her."

  "Force her?" Jackson asked. "Like I forced her to come here and flirt with me, getting all handsy on camera. Just like I forced your sister to wear next to nothing. A woman who flaunts it wants it."

  My fingers balled into tight fists. "That's the difference between us. I don't have my head so far up my ass that I don't understand the difference between casual flirting and begging for sex."

  "Women beg me all the time. Your sister's outfit begged for it," Jackson said.

  I lunged again and this time Kev did not stop me. Jackson let go of Sienna and she fell hard against a bookshelf. Hardcover books crashed to the floor as I slammed into Jackson.

  He took one good punch to the gut. I underestimated the soft appearance of his lime colored Polo shirt. He was rock hard, but still lost his breath. Jackson came at me with a clumsy swing, and I ducked.

  It was on.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Kya

  "What are you doing?"

  It was not hard to figure out where Fenton was. The luncheon was on hold while a crowd gathered outside a small side office.

  I pushed past Sienna's camera crew and stood frozen in the doorway. Jackson had Fenton in a headlock as Fenton pounded at his mid-section. Jackson's face was red with pain and exertion, but he was not letting go. Neither man stopped when I cried out.

  "Kev, do something," I said. I ran into the room but did not know how to approach the scuffling men.

  "Like get punched in the face? No thanks," Kev said.

  "Can't you stop them?" I asked Sienna.

  She gave a pale smile. "What I should do is get the cameras rolling."

  "Of course," I said. I jumped forward and grabbed Jackson's arm. He ignored my nails digging into his forearm until I almost drew blood.

  Fenton stopped punching as soon as I drew near and held his hands out to the sides, palms open. "I'm done. I'm done with him."

  Jackson released his neck and they shoved away from each other.

  "What is going on?" I asked the room at large.

  "You've never seen two guys fighting over a woman?" Sienna asked. She fluffed up her bleach blonde hair and pinched color back into her cheeks.

  Jackson gave Sienna a smile, despite his shortness of breath. "Yeah, that's it. Sienna and I were having a little private time away from the cameras and your mad dog here busted in the door. Couldn't stand to see someone else with Sienna, I guess."

  "You had your chance," Sienna told Fenton.

  "Just jealousy," Jackson said.

  I turned to Fenton, but all he said was, "Why are you here?"

  "See, jealousy," Jackson said. "She's here to finish up o
ur business about the power tool endorsement. He just can't stand another guy getting any attention."

  Fenton lunged at Jackson again, but I stepped between them. "You were fighting over Sienna?" I asked.

  Fenton said nothing, only clenched his jaw, so Jackson spoke up. "I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but Fenton here was yelling something about Sienna being his woman."

  "That's not true," Kev said.

  "Then, why did you two come here to talk to me?" Jackson asked.

  Kev looked at Fenton and did not know what to say.

  "Look, I hear you, but I believe that women can choose for themselves," Jackson said.

  Fenton stepped around me, but Kev jumped in to help. "It's time to go, Fenton. It doesn't matter. They've got their story and that's it."

  "I don't understand," I said, looking to Sienna.

  She waved her camera crew in. "I'm used to men fighting over me, next time, I'll leave the door open, so we get it all," She vamped for the now-rolling cameras. "Doesn't matter what happened, I always come out on top."

  Kev caught my arm and started to pull me and Fenton towards the back door. "Don't believe her. She'll say anything to make herself look good. Same with your pretty boy there."

  I yanked my arm free. "Then, tell me what happened."

  "We came to talk to Jackson about you, remind him to keep it strictly business. He had Sienna cornered in the room and was trying to make her go farther than she wanted," Kev said.

  "But the door was closed and no one saw anything?" I asked. "So it’s your story versus theirs?" I grabbed both Fenton's arms and looked up into his face. He avoided my gaze, but did not pull away. "Tell me what happened."

  He shrugged my hands off. "It doesn't matter. Let's get out of here."

  "Fine," I said. "If it doesn't matter, then I'm going to stay and finish the business I have with Jackson."

  "You can't be serious," Fenton said. "He's a slime ball, thinks he's untouchable. Is that who you're supposed to be with?"

  "I'm not with Jackson McRay. It's just business." I crossed my arms over my chest. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but this whole situation feels a little unbalanced, wouldn't you say?"

  Fenton glowered at me then turned back to Jackson. "I was just coming here to remind him it was just business, make sure he didn't cross any lines."

  "Sienna, are you telling the truth? They were fighting over you?" I asked.

  "Oooh, now who's jealous," she said and smiled at the nearest camera. She raised her right hand and pledged, "I swear they were fighting over me. Even Fenton's manager can't say that's a lie."

  I looked at Kev who gave me a pained negative shake of his head. "Then, it sounds like you're the one that crossed the line," I said to Fenton.

  "So you believe him? Of course, you do. It doesn't matter that underneath his perfect look he's rotten. He's a dirty predator that thinks the whole world is his to toy with and that includes Sienna and you. I'm warning you, Jackson, I've seen what you really are," Fenton said.

  The head of the golf tournament elbowed his way into the office followed by five security guards. "Alright, Mr. Morris, you have disrupted us enough for one afternoon. Take them out."

  "That seems a bit unnecessary," I said.

  Jackson shrugged. "They weren't invited."

  "No, they weren't," said the tournament president. "They promised this photographer a great scene if he bribed the doorman to let them in. It was all just a publicity stunt."

  Neither Fenton nor Kev could deny what the man said. The photographer mouthed “sorry” to them just before the security guards grappled them out the back door. One took Kev, while the other four surrounded Fenton.

  He glanced over their shoulders and I felt the cut of his laser blue eyes. "You coming?"

  Jackson said, "Don't worry, Kya, I won't let this little scene stand in the way of our business."

  "No, you're right," I said. "I'm going to stay. I can't let your crazy publicity stunts get in the way of my business anymore."

  Fenton shook off the four security guards and strode out the back door himself. I waited until the office cleared. I took a few steps towards the back door, and then changed my mind again. I followed Jackson out into the banquet hall.

  "Normally, I'm all for making a scene, but that was a bit much even for me," Sienna said to her semi-circle of cameras.

  Jackson joined her and slid a comforting arm around her shoulders. Sienna shrunk back then recovered and gave the cameras a bright smile.

  "No wonder you came looking for a higher class of athlete. We might not have crazy parties in luxury suites, but we at least know how to treat a woman," Jackson said.

  Sienna shrugged his arm off and rubbed her neck. "It seems like the only people that know how I want to be treated are my friends and my fans."

  "Speaking of your friends, I was hoping your entourage would liven this place up," Jackson said. He stepped back into the shot and Sienna backed away.

  "That wasn't lively enough for you?" I asked.

  Jackson dropped the hand reaching for Sienna's waist and turned to me. "What can I say? I like a little fun and excitement in my afternoons." He stepped aside to talk to the head organizer of the golf luncheon.

  "Are you okay?" I asked Sienna. My back was to the cameras and I spoke as quietly as possible.

  "Why do you ask?" Sienna tossed her hair.

  "You're usually so bouncy, but now, I don't know, you seem a little jumpy," I said.

  Sienna looked at Jackson. He smiled, and she swallowed hard. "This just isn't my crowd."

  "What is it?" I asked.

  "Sorry, Jackson, but I just heard there's a margarita-making contest at Caesar's that needs a judge." Sienna motioned to her camera crew. "Come on, boys, we're outta here."

  Jackson took my arm and led me to a long table set with a white linen tablecloth. The president of the golf association and his wife sat across from us.

  "And, people wonder why we have such a rigorous screening and interview process for membership at our club," the president said.

  "I apologize, sir, I thought a little on-air time would be good for us," Jackson said.

  "Of course. It had nothing to do with you," the president nodded. "It just goes to show that people's true class, or lack thereof, will always show through."

  I sat wondering if the entire incident had nothing or everything to do with Jackson McRay. There was something stiff about his smile, but over the course of lunch, he relaxed.

  "Please, let me escort you back to the hotel," he said at the end of the gathering. He signaled a driver and soon we were ensconced in a black town car. "I feel like I need to apologize for my association president and the head organizer. They are quick to judge. I'm sure Fenton is under a lot of pressure these days."

  "Thank you for having some understanding," I said. I leaned back on the comfortable leather seats. "You're right. I have seen athletes start to crack under the pressure and their judgment is usually the first thing to go."

  "As long as it doesn’t blow back at you," Jackson said. He took my hand and kissed the back of it. "I hate to think of you being surrounded by scummy managers and boxing coaches and fighters. Wasn't this afternoon a pleasant change?"

  I had to agree. Despite the superior remarks about Fenton and Sienna, the luncheon had been entirely pleasant. "Yes, thank you. It was just the break I needed."

  Jackson held my hand, a comforting and sweet gesture, all the way to the Tropicana. The driver jumped out to open the door for me, but it was Jackson that rushed around to help me out of the car. I could not help but feel like a princess when I was with Jackson McRay. He was the very model of a charming prince.

  "Ms. Allen, I was hoping to see you here," a man's voice hailed us. Mario Peretti appeared out of a limousine.

  "Sorry. Ms. Allen is not interested in speaking with you right now," Jackson said. He curled a long arm out in front to shield me. His hand on the small of my back ushered me towards the casino.

&nb
sp; I stopped and stood my ground. "It's okay, Jackson. I know him. What can I do for you, Mr. Peretti?"

  "So, formal now. Let me guess, you spent the afternoon with his kind," Mario said. He smirked at Jackson's outfit and then stepped between us.

  Jackson laid a heavy hand on Mario's shoulder. Though the MMA fighter was shorter, he made quick work of shrugging off the hand and forcing Jackson to take a step back.

  "What do you want," I asked. I put both hands on my hips.

  "Just a photograph," Mario said. His smile curled up with mischief. "I'm a fan, you're a fan, let's just get a quick pic together."

  "Why? So you can use it to rile Fenton up?" I asked. I started to walk towards the hotel lobby.

  "Exactly," Mario said.

  Jackson laughed. "I like it. Let's do it." He reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me back, and then giving me a push towards Mario.

  "No, thank you," I said. I looked to Jackson expecting him to shield me again and help me get inside.

  He held out an arm to block me from the hotel lobby. "Give me the camera and give Ms. Allen here a quick kiss," he said.

  "Jackson! No. Stay away from me, Mario," I said.

  The fighter lunged and wrapped an arm around my waist. "Sorry, Kya. Normally, I'm really sweet, ask anyone. It's just this is a good way to get an edge of him."

  I pressed hard against his chest and tried to hold him back. Jackson laughed again and waited until Mario stole a kiss, then he snapped the picture.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Kya

  I shook Jackson off in the lobby and made my way through the casino alone. The fact that he had allowed, actually pushed me into, a compromising photograph with Mario Peretti made me feel ill. It was clear that everything Jackson did was to suit himself. That was not how a true gentleman acted.

  I rushed to the elevators and up to the suite. I still was not clear on what had happened at the golf luncheon, but now I had reason to doubt both sides. The truth had to be somewhere in the middle. Unfortunately, Fenton was already gone.

  "Is he going to come back and change for the party?" I asked Sandi.

  She stopped setting out her makeup kit and looked up. "No, he's already changed."