One Last Fight: Part One (The One Last Fight #1)

by Ava Ashley

  Part of me pities these girls, coming on a show in front of everyone, begging for a date. But we’re all here now. Showtime.

  I follow him down the hall to the main set, a large living room where I’ll be interacting with the “contestants” for part of the show. From this angle, it looks fairly normal with three large couches, a long coffee table, and “edgy, college dorm décor.” That’s what a stagehand called it. When I turn around, it all changes to cameras, seating, and the show staff running around. Several people come at Liam from different directions and I wave him on.

  “Rafe?” Quentin’s voice nudges me back as he walks up beside me.

  “Where ya been?” I fold my arms and give him a look that says it all. He laughs.

  “I know, I know. This isn’t your scene, but you’ll be back to beating the shit out of guys in no time. This will probably get you more fights.” He grins with that, his washed-out skin crackling.

  That reminds me why I’m here. The accident flashes across my mind—the wet road, the sharp turn, the hot/cold spike of adrenaline as the wheels slid sideways and the bike shot out from under me.

  I sigh in response.

  “More money,” Quentin adds, folding his arms too.

  “Follow the money, my pop always said.” And, yeah, I had. My girl Lily had, too, all those years ago. And these girls here, all following the money. But growing up dirt poor can do that to you. Time in jail. Knowing someone you loved was left to stripping and you couldn’t change it.

  I don’t ever let myself think about Lily, and now is no exception. I shove away all thoughts of her.

  “I’m going to the can. Be right back.” Quentin slaps my arms as he leaves.

  But speaking of girls... The first three make their way into the large room, walking close and talking while throwing glances my way. One is tall with gleaming dark eyes and long, shiny hair. She has a mixed ethnicity I like, maybe part Mexican and some other races thrown in. She isn’t smiling, but appears inviting. We hold eye contact for a few seconds.

  The next one is darkly tanned, but definitely white with bleached blonde hair. She has a hard look to her, one I recognize and know all too well. Maybe she came from a neighborhood like mine and had to fight for everything she got. I don’t linger on her long. Something about her makes me remember things I’d rather not.

  A step behind them, a petite brunette walks with her arms crossed. Another hard hitter, I guess. She grabs my interest even less. This is starting to feel like a real downer.

  With a sigh, I glance over to watch the next girl enter the room. She’s about five foot five with a fantastic body: perfectly shaped legs, nice hips, a little waist, C cup breasts, and her neck... Something about her slender neck gets to me. I take in her dark, flowing, wavy hair before I move up to her face and get the shock of my life.

  Lily.

  I can see her long lashes and pouty mouth from here. I’d know her anywhere, any time, even after six years. At the sight of her, the floor drops out from under me and ice water fills my stomach. Pain hits my chest like a two-thousand-pound wrecking ball.

  She’s scanning the area with those big, dark eyes... looking for me.

  I swivel around before she sees me and march out of the room.

  Why is Lily here?

  How is that even possible?

  I run a hand through my hair and squeeze my eyes shut to erase her image. It doesn’t work. She hadn’t glanced my way, but I know her dark hazel eyes better than my own. Better than anyone’s. I know how they lose their luster when she gets hurt, and how they used to light up when she saw me. I know how she can turn herself off and hide from the world, giving people a blank stare. People like her had to learn that to survive.

  She still wears her hair long and curly, but her muscles are even more defined. My mind grazes over that for a second while I stomp down a hallway. I round the corner, spot my manager, and go at him with a finger in his chest.

  “No way!” I jab harder than I mean, sending Quentin back two steps. “No. Fucking. Way!”

  Quentin holds his hands up. “Calm down, big boy. What the hell?”

  “How could you do this to me?”

  “Do what? You know I’d never hurt you, Rafe.” Quentin’s voice breaks through. No, he wouldn’t.

  “But didn’t you know about the girls they brought in? Did you have any say in it?” Heat rises up my body, threatening to take over. Quentin looks genuinely confused. So I add, “She’s here.”

  “Who?”

  A few others pause around us to listen. There’s movement to my right, and I realize one of them has signaled a cameraman to shoot this shit.

  I glare at the guy and the camera as it comes our way. Then I grab Quentin’s shirt and pull him off toward my dressing room, but I can’t hold back that long.

  “Lily is here. Fuck!” I throw the door open and we step inside. The camera presses forward as I shove the door shut. “Why is Lily here? What were you thinking?”

  “Who’s Lily?” As he speaks, his face changes. “Oh, shit. Oh, fuck.”

  “Yeah, the girl who left me without any explanation six years ago. She just took off at the first sign of trouble, after we’d grown up together. You know? You don’t do that to somebody.”

  I pace, wanting to throw punches at something but controlling myself. The only girl I ever had a real relationship with, a monogamous relationship, is here. The only girl I ever let hurt me. And she broke me, badly. I glance at Quentin, feeling like my thoughts are loud enough for him to hear. It’s not something I ever want to admit to anybody.

  “Now what? Is she on the show?” I demand. And without waiting, add, “And how do we get her off?”

  ***

  Quentin and I find Liam, and I just barely keep my voice under a shout. “I want Lily off the show.”

  “What?” He holds out his hands, incredulous, but it looks too practiced. Yeah, he knew this was coming. I wouldn’t hit such a scrawny little guy, but I feel pretty damn close. He adds, “She’s done her interview. We’re ready to start the show.”

  “I can’t do it with her.” I shake my head. I’m breathing hard like I’m in a fight. Jesus Christ. I stare him down and he finally breaks into a nervous laugh and shrugs.

  “Rafe, man, this is what the viewers want. And you’re just playing a part. You know that. You don’t have to really change how you feel about her.”

  Those words hit me hard.

  “We’ve got everything set.”

  “Liam.”

  “No can do,” Liam says with only half-assed sincerity. “She’s contracted in. We need her, Rafe. She’s the central conflict.”

  Quentin rocks on his heels, his arms crossed. He tilts his head and shrugs at me.

  “Then I want off. I’m done.”

  “Now wait a minute.” For once, Liam’s fake smile fades and real anger surfaces, making his slim face look grim. “You signed a legally binding contract with us, and even you don’t have the kind of money to pay the cancellation fee.”

  I glance at Quentin. Had he mentioned that? From his expression, I can tell it’s real money.

  “Fuck!” I storm out the door, then spin back around and point at Liam. “She’s getting kicked off first.”

  Liam’s eyes slide over to Mike, his production guy. He doesn’t answer as I walk away. Yeah, something tells me he has a plan to handle that too.

  You don’t have to change how you feel about her.

  Damn right I don’t.

  Chapter Four

  Lily

  I prepared myself all morning to see Rafe again, so when I finally get the chance, I feel like I’m waiting to run into an arena with a bull. My heart thumps and my body is itching to jump into action. Maybe this is how Rafe feels before going into the ring for his fights. I’ve been trying to picture his life now. We’re both so different... but that doesn’t mean we can’t reconnect. It doesn’t mean those old feelings won’t be there. And I’ll finally get to see if they are.


  I try to calm myself as I survey the area. When I spot Rafe, I only see his back as he’s stalking out of the room on a mission. Did he see me? Is that his reaction?

  I suck in air and turn away. Hurt swells inside me, but I knock it away. I can handle this. He can be mad if he needs to. After all, I have no idea if he knew I’d be here. Maybe, judging from that reaction, he didn’t know. I’ll have to be patient as he works through things.

  I realized a tiny part of me had hoped he’d see me and smile or even run to me and embrace me.

  “Lily?” Kara whispers next to me. She looks great with her makeup professionally done and her hair so shiny and straight. She’s wearing a satiny silver dress with a high neckline that really sets off her cocoa skin. But I’m not able to compliment her. My world is spinning. I can’t pull in more than shallow breaths.

  “Hey,” she says, concerned now. “It’s just a show and the camera crew. There’s no audience.”

  She must think I’m just getting nervous. I realize the truth is going to come out soon enough, and if I tell her now, I might strengthen this strange alliance.

  “Listen, I’ll be fine. It’s just an initial reaction because...I...uh... I knew Rafe. That’s why they invited me to be on this show.”

  “No shit?” She’s really interested now. “Old love?”

  “He was my childhood best friend and protector. We had a rough neighborhood.”

  “So you were together before?”

  “For a while.” I shrug, trying to downplay that because I shouldn’t have told her in the first place, but I keep talking for some reason. “And I blew it. I wanted to get on this show to fix things. To make them right, you know? I can’t just leave things the way they are.”

  Kara makes a low, guttural laughing noise and we share a look.

  “Damn, girl, that will make the others come after you harder.”

  I nod just before we walk down to sit in front of the staging area with the other women. With a glance around, I get the sinking feeling that I’m the “old flame” and the “poor girl.” You know, the poor little girl from Rafe’s past. They told me to dress casual—just what I felt comfortable in. Apparently, that’s not what they told the other girls. Some are in dresses, others in designer clothing.

  Kara and I don’t talk here where the other women can hear. I’m not sure why we’d help each other, but it feels like we are. Maybe it’s a part of her strategy.

  I’m here. This is happening. Sitting here, my heart hammers clear up into my ears. I definitely have my work cut out for me. The show’s staff will love this. They’ll get their sparks all right. They’ll get a volcano.

  A clap jars me. It’s Mike Ruddy, the production guy, clapping as he stands in front of us. And then Rafe walks into the room. It’s more like a panther silently stalking across the area. I tamp down my emotions and stare straight ahead. I notice he’s wearing black slacks and a black T-shirt, and the entire outfit sleekly hugs his ripped body underneath. And I mean ripped, as in completely and perfectly defined. He’s stylish now too. That’s new. His hair is shaved close but a little longer on top, and his skin is tan.

  His T-shirt shows off his tattoos. I spot a dove above the word Courage on his lower arm. It’s part of a full-sleeve tattoo featuring a coy fish with water and flowers. There’s a smaller coy on his other arm, lower down. I’ve been wanting to see them up close ever since spotting them on that poster. I wonder if he had them done in prison, but decide he didn’t. They’re too good.

  I’m also curious if he has any that are hidden.

  He’s everything he wanted to be. He’s strong. He’s a fighter. He’s famous now.

  I can’t help but feel proud of him. He made it happen. He did it even though I messed his life up so badly six years ago.

  With his stance, his personality, his bulging muscles, he’s like a god. A very angry god. His dark eyes scan the line of women and stop on me. I stare right back at his cold eyes like we’re strangers. Because we are now. We’re nothing to each other. Except that, once upon a long fucking time ago, we were everything to each other.

  For just a second, the anger drops and I see questions in his eyes. He’s curious what I’m doing here. Then he moves on.

  I close my eyes for two seconds and find my center. I can do this. I am doing this.

  “We’re shooting the show’s introduction today, ladies,” Mike calls out.

  We shot individual interview introductions before, so I wonder what this one will be.

  “Rafe will wait in the grand room,” he continues, swinging an arm at the giant living room behind him. “You’ll enter one at a time through the door to greet him. I know you’ve prepared...but don’t act like it. I want you to be overwhelmed and excited to finally see Rafe in person. This is your chance to show him just how exhilarated you are to meet him. So tell him your name and maybe something...enticing. Just talk for a minute or two, okay?”

  Oh, shit.

  I’ve been preparing myself to see him, but not preparing what I’ll say.

  Long time no see?

  Guess who?

  Will you forgive me?

  It is way too early for that. Hopefully, I’ll get my chance later, if Rafe doesn’t kick me off right away.

  “Then you’ll sit down. Once everyone is there, Rafe will do the talking and tell you his story. I know you’ve heard some of it before, but don’t act like that on camera. This is all new. You’re all coming in without even knowing who he is. All right?”

  There’re a few questions and the others start talking to each other. It feels like we’re in school again, especially when Liam calls for our attention and “focus.”

  Mike Ruddy takes over and gives more instructions and stage directions. We’re sitting in a row facing the stage, waiting for our turn to go on. Mike decides to start on the other end of the row from me, which I don’t mind at all. That way I can watch the others greet Rafe.

  Liam takes a step his way after that direction and says, “Why don’t we put them in order?”

  Mike shakes his head. “We can edit it later. Let’s just get it down.”

  The door we’ll be entering through is on the other side of the big room. It’s strange to sit here and see how the wall is a prop... I try to picture this on camera, looking like other shows I’ve watched. Maybe thinking of that will help this feel a little more real instead of so staged.

  Liam has Rafe talk to the camera for a minute, explaining about his accident. My heart stops—he could have been killed! How did I miss that? It must have been in the news.

  He ends with, “Yeah, I’m excited to meet all the ladies. Let’s get this going!”

  I’m pretty sure someone wrote that line for him. It’s too fake.

  The first woman is a small redhead who, in my opinion, is too skinny. Her name is Annabel.

  What the hell? Were her parents Disney fans or something? I laugh at my judgmental attitude and try to push it aside. I need to focus and see if I can learn anything useful about my competition. But as I watch Annabel walk on stage, about to lose her cool over Rafe, I quickly realize I can’t stop myself from focusing on his reaction. She squeals and runs to him, then stops short when I expected her to throw herself right into his arms.

  “Thanks for remembering the ribs,” Rafe says, lightly resting his hand on his side.

  “Oh my God, does it still hurt?”

  His smile is small and sexy, and while his face is welcoming, I’m not sure I’d say he lit up for her. Not the way I’ve seen him light up. Then again, time on the inside might have changed him.

  My heart saddens at that thought.

  It’s also been six years and we’ve both grown. He might be able to hide his emotions much better. It occurs to me that I’m remembering the carefree Rafe, who spent time alone with me. This setting is completely different.

  Two more women go and I count how many spots are left until it’s my turn. Ten more, then it’s me. Another woman is getting up for he
r turn, and the small brunette with short hair is sitting down. Everyone else is dressed up in some way while I’m in jeans and a cami that I love. The woman taking her turn is obviously the “blonde bombshell” with a red cocktail dress, thick, bleached blonde hair, and heavy makeup. I’d say she’s had work done on her face and breasts, but what do I care? She saunters up front and cat walks out through the door, one hand on her hip. Her hips sway one way while her chest sways the other.

  I try to make myself look at Rafe, but I can’t. I don’t want to see how much he appreciates her.

  “I’m Melinda, but you can call me Mel,” she chirps at him, her voice bobbing up and down too much, while she leans forward to give him a clear view down the low-cut dress. Now I have to glance over at him.

  “Welcome...Mel,” Rafe says, his small smile even sexier this time. Damn it.

  “You and I have a lot in common,” she says too sweetly.

  “Do we now?”

  I want to gag at his flirty tone. Did they coach him on how to act? Or is he a womanizer now?

  “We both have to live in the spotlight,” she purrs at him.

  “Really? Well, you don’t seem the least bit nervous right now.”

  “I’ve dealt with my share of paparazzi... We should talk more.” She does a happy pouty face—that’s the only way to describe it—as she drags a fingernail up his arm.

  I sigh and give Kara a look. Her eyes are set hard, like she’s getting ready for an actual MMA fight and not this silly thing. I turn away quickly. Mel lingers, talking to Rafe for a few minutes, and I grit my teeth. She finally sashays to a sofa and sits. The couches are behind Rafe in a circle, so the previous contestants aren’t exactly facing the women as we do our introductions. Still, it’s nerve-racking that everyone is present.

  Not that I can’t handle a little competition, and it’s not like I haven’t been through hell before. I’m tough enough for this, but I’m getting tired of waiting for my turn.

  As we watch the rest of the women go, the line to my right gets shorter and shorter. We’re down to seven women, then six, five...