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

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One Last Fight: Part One (The One Last Fight #1) Page 5

by Ava Ashley


  I sit up, feeling startled like I’ve been deep in thought.

  Liam bounces up on the staging area. “Perfect! Great! All right, we’re breaking for lunch. Girls, make sure to eat. We have a long day ahead of us still. We’ll come back and do some one on one takes.”

  Mike claps like he’s releasing a sports team.

  I overhear Liam tell a few of the women to stop by to hug me. Mel jumps on that and turns to me, throwing her arms around my neck.

  “That was incredible. You worked so hard to get here.” She smiles up at me and I smile back, warming to her. Two other ladies are right behind her, so we can’t linger. I hug seven or eight of them, all with the cameras rolling. The attention is flattering, of course, but this whole thing still feels fake to me. Lily doesn’t come over. I accidentally meet her eyes, though. She’s different now too. But I turn away.

  Finally, I get away from the lights and women to find Quentin in a quiet corner.

  “What do you know about the bout?” I ask him. “Is Liam right or is he blowing smoke for the cameras? He better not fuck with me like that. Did you find anything out?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been busy on the phone. I told those fuckers off for talking to the show here before me.”

  “Tell me about it. But what’d you find out?”

  “So the fight promotion team flew in with their legal team and reviewed the case. Mariaso and his people took care of this quick. The final decision is if Mariaso can clear up all his legal issues in four months’ time, the bout will remain scheduled.”

  I reflect on that for a second, and the tight feeling returns. “And it’s off if he doesn’t?”

  “No. Gets better. In case it takes longer than four months, they’ll strip him of the belt. Then you’ll fight another opponent for the vacant light-heavyweight title.”

  I want to take the title from Mariaso, but either way, I still have my shot. That’s all that matters. I blow out my breath and close my eyes.

  ***

  Quentin pulls me away to eat some lunch and we find a small room to hide in. Liam, of course, tries to get me to eat around the women so he can get more filming in. But, fuck, this morning has been draining. It isn’t like physical training, but emotionally draining. I need out for a few minutes.

  “So how much more do I have to do today?” I speak around the food in my mouth and continue to shovel it in. Just like during training, I’ve worked up an appetite.

  “Just the one on ones.”

  “So what the hell do I talk about?”

  Quentin shrugs. “They’re women, aren’t they? Let them do the talking. You already talked all morning.”

  I bob my head, grabbing my second sandwich and tearing into it.

  “Oh, and they’re supposed to tell you their perfect date. I forgot that. So, don’t worry. You really don’t need to say much.”

  “Ready?” It’s one of the stage hands—Ricky, if I remember right—leaning in the doorway to the room.

  “Shit, already?” I stuff my mouth and down a Rockstar before rising. On our way back, I tell Quentin, “You might have to bring in food for me if I’m going to be here a lot. I can’t eat junk while I’m training.”

  “I’ll talk to Liam. Or whoever handles that. I’ll take care of it, okay?”

  Quentin’s more than my manager. He’s been my trainer all along too. He’s pulled in other people, but he’s always been my main guy. I trust him with everything.

  We head back to the grand room to be redirected out to the pool area. Outside, there’re a few shaded tables and twinkle lights to set the mood, even though it’s around two. A bar is open with drinks, and Taylor Swift plays just loud enough to give it a party feel, but not so loud that they can’t film. It’s that song “Wildest Dreams,” which seems fitting for today. As I listen, I realize the song is about a woman asking the guy to remember her. I inwardly groan at the irony.

  The ladies notice me and start coming my way, waving and smiling. I make a big entrance, hands out like I’m welcoming them all to my party. It’s cheesy as hell, but makes for good TV. Just play the game, like Quentin said.

  Mel edges her way around the other women, looking hot in her red dress and styled blonde hair.

  “Mel, how did I know you’d be first?” I use a playful tone and smile. She reaches for my hands and stands there smiling up at me.

  “Because I wanted to talk to you the most,” she drawls, “and tell you about my idea of our perfect date.” Suddenly, she leans up on her toes and whispers, “I’d want to go to your fight with Mariaso and cheer for you ringside. And afterward...we could go celebrate your victory any way you wanted.”

  I lean back and give her an impressed wink. I’m not really. How is that original? She’s just trying to appeal to my ego.

  Behind her, the cameraman waves for my attention. They didn’t get that. I realize she didn’t want it all on tape.

  “Can you tell me that again?” I nod toward the camera.

  “I want to go to your title fight and cheer for you ringside.”

  “Me too!” It’s the short redhead, right next to us. She has a drink in her hand, and I wonder if it’s her second or third. Everyone’s drinking and talking, and the cameras are rolling. The ladies are doing a good job of looking like they’re having fun.

  And a few women later, I discover that several of them thought of the fight idea for a perfect date.

  At a touch on my arm, I turn around.

  “Kara,” I greet her, glad I’m remembering some names. You’d think the studio would have given me cheat sheets ahead of time with photos and information so I wouldn’t sound like such an ass. But then I would have known about Lily. Smart little bastards, weren’t they?

  “Hi, Rafe. Is this what you expected?” She gestures around.

  “Wow, I’m not sure. It’s different for sure.” I pause and smile. “So, tell me about your perfect date.” Mike wants me to direct the conversation and keep it focused so they can shoot and get done by five.

  “Hmm, I’d like to skydive with you. Then jet off for a romantic dinner on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Maybe the restaurant is at our hotel so we could go relax in a hot tub and spend the evening together.”

  “Now we’re talking.”

  She gives a sexy shrug and saunters off.

  A few of the dates sound nice, and one included a full body massage. But man, these women are all focused on what I’d want for a perfect date. The show probably told them to think that way.

  I realize I’ve talked to everyone but Lily, who is standing back, sipping a gin and tonic, and watching all of this. I stare at her—and not an inviting stare. The camera crews move around and motion for others to clear a path. Now we’re facing each other, twenty feet of air between us. She starts my way, encouraged I’m sure by Liam or Mike. She’s braver than I expect and walks all the way up to me.

  “I’m so sorry, Rafe. I didn’t mean to ever hurt you.”

  That’s not what I expected. I just continue to stare at her, feeling that crease form between my brows. It hits me that she got on this show to apologize to me. After she rejected me before, I didn’t return any messages I’ve gotten from her since I got out of jail. I didn’t leave her any other way of reaching me. Maybe she felt she had to do this to talk to me.

  I don’t have an answer for her, so I don’t say anything.

  “My perfect date with you would be going to the fair and riding the Ferris wheel together.” She throws the last of her drink back and walks off.

  What the hell?

  Lily’s afraid of heights, so the Ferris wheel doesn’t make sense at first. Then I remember... We used to dream about doing that together, but I still have never ridden on one. We’d lie out under the stars and pretend we were up at the top of the ride. I always had to reassure her and say I’d hold her hand if we ever went on one, so she wouldn’t be afraid. That’s what we were doing the first time I kissed her. She might be trying to bring that memory up for me.

/>   Damn it, she’s going to mess the show up.

  Chapter Six

  Lily

  “Lily!” Kara calls, as I head out the main door of the beach house.

  “Later,” I call back. “I gotta go. Stuff to do.”

  Well, not so much, but I have to get out of here. She should be able to understand after that massacre.

  I escape to my car and take off out of the parking lot. Unfortunately, I glance back and see Melinda and her crew walking out the door. A few more women have joined them. I’m not sure what all those women think—that Mel is going to help them get in with Rafe? They don’t see she’s using them. But whatever. They’ll probably have a good laugh at my quick getaway.

  So I got to apologize. Did it mean anything to him? Did it help? If nothing else comes of doing this show, at least I got to tell him how sorry I was. But it left me feeling strangely empty, like it wasn’t enough. I shudder, seeing his cold expression again as he said, “You’re in the past.” Was it that easy for Rafe to forget about me and move on? He had six years to get over me and heal. Maybe I really am just a moment in his past.

  I wanted to apologize, but deep down, I know I want so much more. I just have no idea if that’s even possible.

  I head out for a drive along the coastal highway with my windows down. I need the wind, noise and the ocean view to calm me down. My curly hair flies everywhere, and it won’t be fun to untangle later, but for now, I enjoy the sensation. I just want to feel free for a few minutes.

  I need to get away and try to forget... Everyone saw the way Rafe treated me and how angry he still is. They have to wonder what I did.

  We get tonight to recuperate, and then we report to the house tomorrow. I break out in a sudden laugh. Rafe wants nothing to do with me, and I’ll be moving in with all those women and competing for a date with him.

  Can I do this? My doubts flare up, and I shake my head at myself.

  “I’m not backing down,” I yell into the wind. I’m not backing down. I got this. I have to find a way to make it work. Somehow, I’ll prove to him I’m not just running off again, and then I’ll explain what happened before. I have to tell him the truth somehow.

  I can do this because I’ve already overcome so much. I took care of my mom until she died, doing whatever I needed to so we could pay the bills and her medical expenses. Now I’m getting A’s in college. School hasn’t been easy, but I’ve held down a job until recently while getting good grades.

  So what if this is hard? I’m ready for it. I prepared, and I know what I want. I’m here to stay.

  My little pep talk makes me buzz all over, so when I question myself the next second, I just repeat it again.

  I pull off the road where there’s beach access and a bathroom to change, where I slip into my running clothes. After this morning, a run will be good for my mental state and my body. Out on the sand, I watch the horizon and listen to my music, my feet pounding the sand and my mind clearing. I keep the image of Rafe in front of me, like a goal, and run to him until my legs and entire body feels completely drained. It feels good to wear myself out.

  Afterward, I end up making a loop back to town for one last night at my apartment, and probably a long bath. I definitely need some downtime before tomorrow.

  Then it’s back to putting on my game face and showing Rafe just how determined I am.

  ***

  When I arrive at the house the next afternoon, the staff, interns, and the other women are already running around. Everyone is trying to figure out what room they’ll be in and with who, and then complaining about it. It looks like a college dorm on the first day of fall semester.

  A man in a dress shirt stands on the steps and claps his hands. “Ladies, ladies, please! Can I please have your attention? I’ll share the room assignments with you now.” He has a clipboard under his arm and a pencil behind his ear.

  I notice there’s at least one camera guy recording. Even this? Jesus. Liam really did mean it when he explained that they would record everything. I also remember they need lots of footage to edit.

  “Where is Rafe staying?” This comes from the little redhead, Annabel.

  “He has his own place at the other end of the property, but his house is off limits unless you are invited. And yes, you will get invited. You’ll all have the chance to win a romantic dinner with Rafe.”

  “Ooooohhhh!”

  Melinda laughs like, of course, she’ll be invited first. I shake my head. I really know how to torture myself. Here I am putting it all on the line for one last shot with Rafe, but that’s exactly what all of these other girls are doing too. But they can’t feel the way I do about Rafe. I have more motivation than any of them.

  Kara makes her way to me and nods for me to come with her.

  “Guess what, we actually have a room together.”

  “How’d you manage that?” I ask, and then seeing her sneaky and quick smile, decide I don’t want to know. But that might make things interesting if she has any kind of in with one of the staff. With my duffle bag in hand, I follow her out of the madness and we head upstairs. It’s slightly quieter in our room. She shuts the door, muffling the noise even further.

  “Was it hard hearing his story?” Kara cuts right to the chase as she claims a bed. “I mean, I could tell you were there in the trailer park with him, but he didn’t mention you.”

  “Yeah. That stung,” I admit openly. Maybe it shouldn’t, but I’m sure it was pretty obvious. “Then again, I’m glad Rafe didn’t talk about me. It’s my business.” I don’t add that he probably remembers that I don’t like airing my dirty laundry, so to speak. I’m a private person, so this show is really going to push my limits. Maybe he respected that? Or more likely, he’s worked really hard to wipe me from his life and memory. He did have plenty of time in prison to do that, locked in there for three years because of me.

  I need to get all that out of my head for now.

  I take one of the other two beds, glad there’s only one more. We sit on our beds and I realize we didn’t stick around for instructions. “Should we go back down?”

  “Did you know about everything he shared?” she asks, ignoring my suggestion.

  “Some of it, yes. We stopped talking after he went to jail, but I followed what I could about his life from the news. It’s hard to think about everything he’s been through.” And everything I’ve been through. I’m curious if Kara is actually curious or looking for ammo for this reality show.

  “So he was talking about you and your mom?” she asks.

  Should I share anything about Rafe? It’s about me too, this time anyway.

  “Yeah... The only way I could make enough money to help my mom was to strip, but Rafe wouldn’t allow it. So he went to Vegas to win a poker tournament, and I know he hated doing that. It was too much like his dad’s life. That fell through, though. Then he became desperate to help me. I didn’t want him messing up his life, but he wouldn’t listen to me...” As I say that, the door opens and Annabel walks in. Oh, crap. Her?

  “Hi there, roommates!” she chirps and immediately launches into a monologue as she sets her things up around the third bed. Kara and I roll our eyes at each other and silently giggle. This girl is too chipper to make it on this show.

  She stands back to inspect her work with her hands on her hips and nods in approval. “So aren’t you two going on the tour?”

  “Tour?” I get up and head for the door. Everyone else is rushing back downstairs too. Liam’s waiting for us. He seems to like being on camera even though he’s the director. From the reactions around me, I guess some of the other women had hoped Rafe would be here for the tour. Okay, I had wondered that too, and it made my stomach flip over. He isn’t anywhere in sight. That is good for me. I don’t want to see his hate-filled glare quite yet.

  “All right, are we all here?” Liam has two cameramen with him to film. We start off, and it becomes clear we could have done this ourselves. We go from room to room with cameras tapi
ng our reactions while he talks. The house is pretty plush, and we’re duly impressed.

  “And here is the gym, in case you ladies want to work out and stay in shape while you’re here.” He throws the door open and we walk in single file only to bunch up again inside the door. The opposite wall is one giant mirror, and half the room is filled with different weight machines, an elliptical machine, and a treadmill. There’re punching bags hanging on the right side, a small one and a much larger one.

  “Is Rafe going to train here?” Melinda asks, as she struts and pops the little bag with a dainty hit. It sways.

  “We’ll see,” Liam says with a grin. “He might if you ask him nicely.”

  So maybe we can get Rafe alone if the right circumstances arise. I need to at some point to talk to him. But how can I do that when he has completely rejected me? I’ve been planning to bring back our friendship and reach him that way, but I don’t have years here. I have three weeks, if that. I could get kicked off at any time. I know I’ll have to make some bold moves, but will he even listen to me if I somehow sneak over and talk to him?

  Melinda pops the little bag again, and Liam asks, “Anyone want to try out the heavy bag?”

  I’m still mulling my strategy over and suddenly find myself in front of the heavy bag, arm back and ready. I let loose and throw a hard right into it. Bam. It jars my arm a little, but I know how to hit the right way, thanks to Rafe.

  Suddenly, I realize what I just did, and without even thinking about it. All that practice from back then must have taken over.

  “Holy shit!” Kara exclaims.

  “Yeah, what the fuck?” Melinda asks.

  “If you have to hit someone,” I say.

  “Do it right,” Kara finishes. “That’s what Rafe says.”

  I jerk to look at her. How would she know that? I didn’t expect anyone to know I was quoting him. I hit the bag again and explain my swing.

  “He taught me how to defend myself when we were twelve, in case I needed it.”

  “Did you ever?” Annabel asks, her voice more serious than I’ve heard it.

 

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