Got A Hold On You (Ringside Romance)

by Pat White

  Her heart slammed against her chest. “Jack’s not fighting tonight.”

  “Sure he is. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

  His maniacal grin widened to reveal a black abyss where there used to be a couple of teeth. “I’ve been waiting a long time to take a run at Black Jack Hudson. A very long time.”

  “You’re supposed to fight him at Summer Suplex in two weeks. That’s the plan.” She gripped the bars, panic coursing through her body.

  “I changed the plan.”

  He laughed, a low, menacing sound. A shiver wracked her body from head to toe and back up again to settle in her throat.

  “Jack,” she croaked. He wasn’t supposed to fight for at least another week. If anything happened to him tonight…

  She closed her eyes. He wasn’t healthy enough to step into the ring. She knew that as sure as she knew she was going to fire Tiger Man the minute she got back home, right after she let Uncle Joe have a generous piece of her mind. She couldn’t believe he’d set up Jack. Then she remembered Maxine’s rant when she bolted out of the elevator: He’s gone too far this time.

  Frankie’s heart raced. God help her if anything happened to Jack.

  She focused on her breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth. She’d be no help to Jack if she passed out from a case of nerves. That hadn’t happened since she was a kid and Mama was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. Fear had strangled Frankie’s throat that night. Fear that she’d lose her mom.

  Like she could lose Jack if he tangled with this lunatic.

  Tiger Man hoisted the rope over his shoulder and wheeled her toward the screams and cheers of the awaiting fans. Her mind spun as the rolled through the Monkey Tunnel and up the aisle. She had to do something, but what? They approached the ring, the crowd booing and hissing with renewed vehemence. She glared at Tiger Man, panic surging through her veins. Jack would never know what hit him. He’d be out for the count, and then some.

  With stiff fingers she squeezed the cage bars and let out a blood-curdling scream. The crowd roared back, fully enjoying the show. No. This wasn’t right. She had to get Jack’s attention, had to—

  Jack sprang from beneath the ring and tackled Tiger Man. They rolled and punched, and Jack landed on top, nailing his opponent with five quick jabs. He pushed off the momentarily dazed wrestler, grabbed the keys and raced to free Frankie.

  “Jack, it’s real. This is real.” She started sobbing and he cocked his head in question.

  “Frankie?”

  “He’s going to—”

  Tiger Man nailed him in the shoulders with a two-by-four. The keys flew out of Jack’s hand and he hit the floor.

  “Somebody stop this!” she cried, her protest swallowed by the roar of excited fans.

  “Black Jack Attack! Black Jack Attack!”

  Tiger Man swung Jack into the metal ring steps with a crash.

  She had to stop this.

  “You!” She flagged a photographer. “Let me out and I’ll give you a picture.” She gripped the lining of her bikini top as if offering to expose her breasts.

  “Luscious Leeza flashed hers last week.” He turned his attention back to the fight.

  Tiger Man rammed Jack, shoulder first, into the ring post. The crowd screamed in horror.

  Jack collapsed and gripped his shoulder in pain.

  “I’ll take off the mask!” she cried to the photographer.

  His eyes lit up. “Deal!”

  She glanced through the bars. Tiger Man picked up Jack and applied some kind of painful hold, yanking one arm behind his back while pulling his neck in the opposite direction. Jack gritted his teeth, completely helpless against the unexpected, genuine assault.

  “Let me out!” she ordered the photographer.

  “Take off the mask first.”

  “You won’t get a good shot through the bars.”

  He nodded and released her.

  She whipped open the door and raced for Mulligan, WHAK’s head of security. He knew who she was; he’d listen to her. The photographer gripped her arm and spun her around.

  “A deal’s a deal!”

  “Hands off me, you stupid ingrate!” She kicked him in the shin and he stumbled backward. More flashes nearly blinded her.

  Out of the corner of her eye she spied Tiger Man toss Jack into the ring, then whip a steel door under the bottom rope. Jack got to his knees, clinging to the ropes, unable to stand.

  “Mulligan!” she cried, running up to the security expert. “Stop the match.”

  He eyed her and snorted. “Yeah right.”

  “Tiger Man’s wants to hurt Jack, for real. You’ve gotta stop it.”

  “The only person who can stop the match is Sully.”

  “Sully isn’t here, but I am.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  She ripped off the mask, squinting against the onslaught of flashing bulbs.

  “Holy crap, Miss McGee. I had no idea.”

  “Stop this match or you’re fired.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He sprinted toward the ring, barking orders into his walkie-talkie.

  Jeers suddenly punctured her eardrums. She spun around and her heart stopped cold.

  With great pomp and circumstance, Tiger Man swung Jack head first, dropping him on the steel door.

  A collective gasp echoed in the arena.

  Jack was lying motionless in the center of the ring.

  Tiger Man grinned and beat his chest then went back to work, stomping on Jack’s chest.

  Jack didn’t move, not even to defend himself.

  She scanned the area. Security men huddled in a corner, planning their approach. They weren’t fast enough. Grabbing a metal folding chair, she flew under the bottom rope and stalked Tiger Man from behind. She closed in, wound up and let him have it, hitting him across the shoulders with the chair. Once. Twice. Three times. He wobbled, but didn’t go down. His eyes were blazing fire when he turned on her.

  Roaring, he pounded closed fists against his chest and marched toward Frankie. A team of security guards flooded the ring and tackled him to the mat. She raced to Jack’s side. Sweat covered his still-closed eyes.

  “Jack? Open your eyes.”

  She brushed her fingertips across his cheek. He didn’t move. Her heart ached.

  “Ambulance!” she cried over her shoulder.

  “What...what are you doing?”

  She snapped her gaze to Jack. His eyelids cracked open and blood dripped down the side of his mouth. She dabbed at it with her finger. He was okay. Everything was going to be okay. Her chest lightened with relief.

  “Jack.” She kissed him on the cheek, the eyebrow, the forehead.

  “Your mask?” He looked at her with such wonder in his eyes.

  “I was so scared. Tiger Man is crazy. He wanted to hurt you, to prove something. I tried to tell you what was going on. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

  “But they’ll know who you are...without the mask.”

  “How do you feel? Can you tell me how many fingers I have up?” She shoved three fingers in his face. He closed his hand around them and pressed her palm to his chest, above his heart.

  “Why did you take it off?” he said.

  “I had to stop the match. No one would listen. Mulligan didn’t recognize me with the mask on.”

  “I know the feeling.” He smiled and squeezed her hand. She closed her eyes, reveling in his gentle touch, the powerful connection that shot straight to her heart.

  “Let’s go, Jack. I want to go home.”

  “Okay. Get the stretcher.”

  Her eyes shot open. “Dammit, this isn’t about the angle, about building up drama by going out in an ambulance. This is about you being okay. About us walking out of here, together.”

  “Us? You said ‘us,’” he whispered.

  “Come on.” She started to get up, but he wouldn’t let go of her hand. “Jack, please—”

  “I’d love to, darlin’. But I can’t feel my legs.”<
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  Chapter Thirteen

  “Get your best orthopedic specialist down here, now!” Frankie ordered the emergency room intern.

  Jack tried telling her he was fine, that he could feel his legs again, but she would listen. When the doctor said he couldn’t keep Jack against his will, Frankie shot Jack a death glare. He’d never seen that one before and he didn’t want to find out what was behind her fiery eyes.

  “Are you listening to me?” She got in the doctor’s face as he tried to escape the examining area.

  Jack had to give her credit. When Frankie took charge, she really took charge. There was simply no talking to her.

  “I want your orthopedic man down here now or I’ll fly in one of my own!”

  She whipped the curtain closed and turned her attention to Jack. “Why do I get the feeling they’re not taking me seriously?”

  Her hair stuck out in twenty-seven directions, her eye make-up streaked down her face, and she still sported her Tatianna feathers.

  “Gee, I wonder,” he teased, eyeing her from head to toe.

  “At least you’ve got your sense of humor back.” She rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a hospital gown.

  “I told you, I’m fine. Look, Mom, I can even walk.” He started to get up, but she jumped to his side and pushed him back on the stretcher.

  “Forget it, mister. You’re not going anywhere until you’re checked out by a real doctor.”

  She slipped her arms through a cotton gown and tied it in front.

  “You’d better watch it or they’ll admit you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “For being mentally disturbed.”

  “I’m glad you can joke about this.”

  “It’s all part of the life, sweetheart.”

  “It’s a stupid life if you ask me.” She scooted a chair beside the bed and leaned way too close. Her cleavage peeked out from where her hospital gown gapped in front.

  “You risk your body, your ability to walk. What is that about?” she said.

  “That part wasn’t my idea, remember?”

  She paled and folded her hands in her lap. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to fire that lunatic Tiger Man.”

  “He was just doing his job.”

  “No!” She sprang to her feet and paced the cramped examining area. “He wanted to hurt you, to prove to everyone he was the best. I can’t believe my uncle knew about this. I just can’t.”

  Jack glanced at the ceiling, her pain hurting him, too. She loved her uncle and couldn’t accept that he’d set Jack up to be intentionally hurt.

  “I’ll take care of my uncle when we get home. Right now we’ve got to find you a top-notch orthopedic specialist to make sure you can walk out of here.”

  “I’ve already told you, I can walk out of here right now.”

  “Well, you’re not going to, not until you get the A-OK from a doctor. So stop fighting me on this.”

  “I hate hospitals.”

  “And I hate wrestling.”

  Silence fell between them. He closed his eyes. No sense arguing with the woman. She’d obviously made up her mind. About a lot of things.

  “I’m sorry.” She took his hand.

  The warmth crept up his arm, burning a path straight to his heart. What was it about her touch?

  He opened his eyes and glanced at her. “What are you sorry about?”

  “That I said that, about hating wrestling. I know it’s your life.”

  “You have to remember, when I started it was nothing like it is now. Sometimes I don’t recognize it. A lot of the new guys know five moves, that’s it. They aren’t traditional wrestlers. They never set foot in a ring before they enrolled in a wrestling school and learned how to fall and get up again a hundred times. And these days, they don’t have to know a lot of moves. It’s mostly soap opera drama, a lot of shouting, punching, flying into vats of green gelatin.”

  She chuckled and his heart skipped. He should shut up while he could, but this woman’s opinion of him was important, more important than it should be.

  “Wrestling, amateur wrestling, saved my life,” he said, unable to stop himself. “I probably would have been in jail by the time I was seventeen if Butch hadn’t pulled me off the streets and forced me to wrestle. I was a natural. I planned to wrestle in college but didn’t have enough money for tuition. I figured I’d work the pro circuit for a few years, save some bucks, and go back to school.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “Nah. I got sucked in so deep I couldn’t even see the surface anymore. Months passed, years passed. You’re on the road all the time. You can’t remember where you’ve been or where you’re going much less why you joined this circus in the first place. And you sure as hell don’t have time to plan what you’ll do once you get out.”

  She studied her hands, and he wondered if he’d said too much. “Hey, don’t feel sorry for me. I chose this life.”

  “I can’t imagine being so...alone.”

  “Alone? Hey, I’m surrounded by people. The guys become like family. I’m not alone.”

  And if you believe that, I’ve got a bridge for sale.

  “Well, you won’t be alone tonight.” She squeezed his hand.

  He didn’t know how much more of this he could take, her touch, her compassion. If he didn’t slam on the brakes, he might as well hand over his soul right here and now.

  This could never be. She was Sully’s niece, a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and how she was going to get it. And she sure as hell didn’t want Jack, a burned-out wrestler with no future, no impressive career to brag about to her mother and business associates.

  “Listen, I appreciate your concern, but even Sully would agree you’ve gone above and beyond the call,” he said.

  She studied him with a puzzled expression, and he steeled himself against the pain he knew he’d read in her eyes next.

  “I know it’s your job to keep a handle on the talent but—”

  “That’s what you think this is about? That I’m here because of your contract?”

  He pulled his hand from hers and interlaced his fingers behind his head. “I get it. With the story line as hot as it is right now, you can’t afford to lose me to a serious injury.”

  She stood abruptly, the legs of her metal chair screeching against the vinyl floor. He stared at the ceiling, unable to look at her.

  “I gotta admit Sully’s getting his money’s worth out of you, Frank. Your performance tonight in that cage…those tears… man, that was award-winning material.” He glanced at her and his chest ached at the look in her eyes.

  This was the right thing to do, the only thing to do. “You’re a natural at this, kid. I never would have guessed it.”

  She clenched her jaw and fisted her right hand. One of these days he was going to get a knuckle sandwich right between the eyes.

  “And I never would have guessed—”

  “Excuse me, sir, ma’am,” a nurse interrupted Frankie. “I have to start the IV.”

  His stomach clenched at the sight of the hanging bag she wheeled beside her.

  “I’m fine. I’m really fine,” he said.

  Sitting up, he pushed himself off the stretcher. His knee gave way.

  Luckily, Frankie caught him. Luckily? She looked like she wanted to skin him alive.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” she ground out.

  “It’s my old knee injury. My legs are fine. I can feel them. See?” He pinched his thigh. “Ouch, that hurts. See? I’m fine. There’s no spinal injury. I don’t need to be here.”

  The nurse looked at Frankie.

  “Needle phobic,” she explained.

  “Oh.” The nurse rolled the IV stand next to his bed.

  “Come on, let me go. With Frank’s help I’ll hobble my way out of here and you can treat some real sick people.”

  Frankie stepped away from him.

  “Hey, come back here. I need to lean on your shoulder.”

/>   “Sorry, chief. You’re staying here until a doctor checks you out. Like you said, I wouldn’t want to take any chances with our prime talent.”

  He hated the sound of her words, as if she were guarding a choice piece of beef.

  “Lie down, Mr. Hudson.” The nurse ripped open the plastic-sealed needle. Both his legs wobbled; his vision blurred.

  “It would be nice if he could be conscious when the specialist gets here.” The nurse’s voice sounded far away.

  He felt himself being coaxed onto the stretcher.

  “Look at me.” Frankie clamped her hands on either side of his face and guided his eyes to meet hers.

  Train whistles rang in his ears and stars blurred his vision.

  “Jack. Look into my eyes. Jack!”

  Something pinched his cheek. The discomfort brought him back around. “Huh?”

  “My eyes, Jack. Focus.”

  He blinked and stared through the haze. When it cleared he found himself gazing at the most beautiful colors of the rainbow: blue, green, yellow, even purple.

  “You are a sonofabitch, you know that?” she said.

  He studied her beautiful eyes that looked like the color of mountains in springtime, with all the hues blending into a breathtaking, indescribable color. He could paint those eyes. It would take a lifetime, but he’d like to try.

  “So many colors…” he mumbled, the buzz growing louder in his ears.

  “Don’t you pass out. Look at me. I need your help. My friend’s going west this summer to Colorado. Where’s a good place to stay? Aspen?”

  “Crowded in Aspen. Expensive. Try Breckenridge, maybe Dillon.”

  “What kinds of things would she do there? Hike? What else?”

  “Rafting, horseback riding.”

  She scrunched up her nose.

  “You don’t like horses?” he said.

  “Never got close enough to find out.”

  “You’ve never been on a horse?”

  “Have you?” she challenged.

  “Sure. Love riding up into the mountains. No one’s around. You’re all alone.”

  “Perfect for you,” she muttered. She glanced at the nurse and nodded.

  “Why peppermint?” he asked. He had to know.

  “What?”

  “You taste like peppermint.”