by Jessie Cooke
“I just don’t see it being a great fight…” That’s not true. I’m sure I’m ready to get in that octagon with a guy who has Jacob’s bulk and abilities…I just didn’t want that guy to be Jacob.
“Bullshit!” Lee said. “You know how good you are, Brock,” I guess my ego precedes me. “You know your own potential. Jacob’s one of the best I’ve ever seen…but so are you. It would be an outstanding fight and you damned well know it. Your reluctance is not about the fight. It’s about taking the title from your friend.” Lee was a lot of fucking help. I started pulling the wrap off my hands. My right hand was swollen and throbbing.
Trying not to focus on it I said, “You two don’t see where that might be a problem?”
“This is business, Jacob understands that,” Bradley said with a smirk.
“How do you know? Did you already talk to Jacob about this? Did he agree to it?”
“His agreement wasn’t needed Brock, and neither is yours. You’re both under contract and barring injury…or death, you and Jacob will be fighting for that title, and soon.” He turned on the heel of his expensive shoe and headed back to his office. When he was gone Lee said,
“Don’t let Bradley get to you. He’s baiting you. Jacob doesn’t want to do this anymore than you do, Brock.”
“But he did agree to it?”
“The two of you haven’t talked about it?”
“No, there has been a lot going on…”
“Yeah, I guess the shit is still hitting the fan over Lance’s…news.”
“Yeah.”
“Brock, you know how much I hate to give Bradley any credit, but he’s right in this case, this is just business. Jacob knows that too. If there is one thing a Wright knows, it’s business.” I thought about Ian and how quickly he’d arranged for that attorney to draw up those legal documents yesterday.
I heard the door snap again and looked up to see Jacob and Lance coming in. Jacob’s trainer Derek was at his side. Three other fighters were coming in behind them. “We’ll have to table this discussion for now,” I told Lee. Lee looked over at the guys and I saw him wince when his eyes landed on Lance’s face.
“What the hell happened to Lance? He looks like he got hit by a truck.”
I didn’t say anything. I was looking at Lance too, wondering how this was going to go, but he wouldn’t make eye contact with me. When Jacob got close I said, “Give me five minutes Lee, okay? Hey Jacob, I need to talk to you.”
Jacob glanced at Lance and I knew that he already knew what was going on. I felt bad putting him in the middle of all of this, but if anyone could talk some sense into Lance or Ian either one, it was Jacob. He followed me back through the doors that led to the long hall to the lobby. We found an empty office and before I could say anything he said,
“I know what’s going on with Lance and Ian and Lizzie…but I’m a little bit confused.”
“About?”
“About where you come into all of this. Not long ago I had to threaten to kill you for coming on to Cassie while you had the usual weekend squeeze hanging off your arm. Now all of a sudden you’re Lizzie’s biggest champion.”
“I don’t know,” I told him, honestly. “We’ve just been…hanging out and I found out that I really like her. Plus, she’s pregnant and she’s scared. She doesn’t want to have an abortion…she just feels like she doesn’t have any other choices.”
“I think choices are what Lance and Ian are trying to offer her.”
“I thought so too, until I read the part where they want her to quit her job and stay away from them…like she’s a criminal or something…”
“That’s in the contract?”
“Yeah, it’s in there. Man, you know that I’m pro-life…and I love Lance like a brother…but he’s royally fucking this up. I don’t get why he’s acting like such a pussy and letting lawyers and…Ian make decisions for him. He should have talked to her…he should still go talk to her. I can’t talk to him about it because I just get pissed off.”
“I’ll talk to him. I think he’s letting Ian make the decisions for him because he’s just so overwhelmed. His father still hasn’t spoken to him and he’s thinking about how much worse his “coming out” is going to be when his family finds out about the baby…but at the same time he was raised to believe that abortion’s not okay. I’m not trying to make excuses for him, but you know this is all out of character for him…he’s not a pussy.”
“I didn’t say he was a pussy. I said he’s acting like one.”
Jacob smiled. “Fair enough. As for my brother, I will make excuses for him. Ian’s motivated by the crappy so-called family life we had growing up. He wants a family more than anything…he sees this as his chance.”
“And my only argument with any of that is that Lizzie needs to be treated with more respect than this. You told me that day at the car show what an asshole I was for treating that girl that was with me so badly. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about that since. We go around sleeping with them…not calling them ever again…not even remembering their names in some cases, yet they’re the ones who get labeled with the ugly names and we get held up as studs. When I really started thinking about that, I was ashamed of myself…when I saw firsthand what years of being treated like that has done to Lizzie…It’s beaten her down to the point of not even realizing her own worth. When I really let myself thing about that, I realized that there are probably dozens of girls out there that I’ve done the same thing to, I was sick.”
Jacob nodded. “I’m with you there. Imagine us growing up,” he laughed. Is that what this was? “Lizzie’s been nothing but a great friend to Cassie and even though I don’t know her that well yet, I trust Cassie’s judgment a hundred percent. Cassie wouldn’t put that much faith into someone that didn’t deserve it. I’ll talk to Ian and Lance…no guarantees they’ll listen.”
“Thanks bro. I appreciate it. There’s one more thing…” Jacob raised an eyebrow at me and I said, “Bradley is bugging the shit out of me about setting up a match…” I paused. Shit, I can’t even say it.
“He wants to set up a match between us…for the title,” Jacob finished for me.
“Yeah, I told him I didn’t think it was a good idea…”
Jacob grinned, “Why not, afraid of getting your ass handed to you by the Lion?”
I laughed, “Hardly.” Turning serious again I said, “I already feel like Lance and I aren’t as close as we were…”
“Hey, that’s not going to happen,” he said. He knew I was worried about screwing up our friendship. I had my own issues when it came to abandonment.
“Even after I whoop your ass and take that belt from you?” I asked him, only half joking.
He laughed again. “That ain’t gonna happen either.”
“Thanks, Jacob.” He nodded.
“I better get out there before Lee kicks my ass. I’ve been missing training more often than I’ve been here lately.”
“If you’re planning on stepping into the octagon with The Lion, I’d suggest you take every opportunity you get to train…and steroids…”
I laughed, “Fuck that, then I’d have a tiny, shriveled up dick like yours.”
“Whoa, harsh.” Jacob and I looked at each other and turned towards the voice. Jagger, the dude from the bar was standing just inside the double doors of the front lobby. He was wearing a pair of jeans with holes in them and a black short-sleeve t-shirt that stretched so tightly over his chest and around his arms that it looked like it might split down the center. I’d forgotten just how big this guy was. This dude is massive. His biceps have got to measure at least 18 inches. He almost made Lance look normal size.
He grinned at us and then looked at Jacob and said, “I got some pills that’ll help with that tiny dick problem…”
Jacob’s jaw clenched. “Who the hell are you?”
“Mick Jagger,” he said, holding out a gigantic hand. Jacob looked at me and I said,
“I invited Mick to come do
wn today.”
Still looking suspicious, Jacob took the hand he offered and shook it.
“Mick Jagger…really?” Jacob asked him.
Jagger laughed. He had a deep, raspy voice that spoke of breathing in too much smoke from the bars he played his music in…or from hitting a bong, I’m not sure which.
“Mom was a fan of the Stones, what can I say?”
10
Lizzie
It had been almost two weeks since Lance and Ian showed up on my doorstep with their “payoff offer” disguised as legal paperwork. I cancelled my second appointment at the clinic and I didn’t re-schedule it. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was going to do still…but as annoyed as I was with the way Lance was going about things, I felt like I did have to consider it as an option. There were no scheduled fights for the next month, so I didn’t have to worry about work, just yet. Micah did schedule me for an appearance at Planet Hollywood for tomorrow. Cassie, me and a couple of the other girls would be working a table signing up guys who wanted to take on one of our rookies next Saturday. We were supposed to “lure in” the big muscled up guys who walked by. The rookies would be there also, doing a meet and greet with fans. The fight is a PR event and the fan would be outfitted in sparring helmets and gloves. It was just for fun and to get the new guys noticed. Most of big gamblers in Vegas bet on the fights. They liked to get a sneak peek at the new blood as it came in. I was looking forward to it if for no other reason than I’d been driving myself crazy obsessing over what to do about the baby and I spent most of my days making lists. The last time I’d seen my father was at one of these events. He would probably be at this one as well. He kept his finger on the pulse of any bets that were going on in Vegas at any given time. He makes me a nervous wreck…although we both avoid even eye contact any longer. We’ve barely spoken since…what he did in Colorado…I think he’s as afraid of me as I am of him sometimes. He’s afraid that I’m going to tell.
When I get nervous or anxious about something, making a to-do list or to-think about list, helps me calm down and get my thoughts organized. The therapist I had seen in my senior year in high school told me that the reason making lists helped me was because I’m borderline, O.C.D. I had a hard time believing that he made almost two-hundred dollars an hour for stating the obvious. As I’d made my list this morning for the day, I realized that was all he had been good for. He didn’t help me at all to deal with the horrors that were my parents and my life. In his defense, I never told him what really happened that night that set my promiscuous, anxious adolescence into motion. I taught myself through trial and error what worked best for me when I felt the anxiety creeping up and putting its cold hands around my neck. One of them was making lists and another was staying as busy as possible…the third had been finding a new man to have sex or a relationship with since I was in my late teens. I’d begun to realize lately that one was a problem in itself. I was trying hard to convince myself that Brock was different…but didn’t I do that every time? I can’t be sure, but he really did seem different than the others.
I was on my way to the training center right now. I had to pick up my costume for tomorrow and Micah had some paperwork he needed me to sign. It would be the first time I was in the vicinity of the place in a while. I had been doing all that I could to avoid Lance. I hadn’t even been returning his calls or texts. Brock had been amazing throughout. I felt so bad that his friendship with Lance was being tested over all of this, but Cassie told me not to worry. She said that Jacob told her he was confident that no matter what I decided to do, the guys would work it out. I was glad of that, and I was also glad that for whatever reason, Brock seemed to enjoy spending time with me as much as I did him. The sex was mind-blowing…but there was so much more to it than that. I told him about my parents…a conversation I usually never have with men. He listened attentively when I talked to him. I was still cautious about some things in my life that I’d rather he never knew…but comfortable telling him about most of it. He was like Cassie…he never judged me.
He told me about his Mom and what a close relationship they have even though she still lives in Utah. I’m happy for him, I truly am…but I have to admit that I’m also a little bit jealous. He talked about his brother and his dad and how much he missed them. I could see the pain in his eyes when he talked about them, but he would also laugh and smile when he described the antics that he and his brother got up to when they were kids. I was discovering that there was so much more to him than his hot body and his fighting skills, and I was falling for him…and that scared the crap out of me.
“Hey! I haven’t seen you in so long I thought you were avoiding us.” That was the greeting I got from Lucy, the receptionist at the training center. She was a tiny little woman who literally only stood four feet eleven inches. She wore her blonde hair short and sometimes she’d straighten it and other days she would spike it out all over. She had these piercing green eyes and when she trained them on you it didn’t matter if you were six foot five and over three hundred pounds…you shook with fear and trepidation. The fighters made her look like a dwarf…but they were all scared to death of her. She was the one that drug tested them and made sure their physicals were up to date and at the end of the month, she was the one who processed all of our pay checks. She had the power to send a fighter or an octagon girl packing if we didn’t stay in line…and she had no qualms about doing it. She would tell them straight to their face…or in her case, usually their waist…just what she thought of them throwing their careers away on drugs. Bradley had a strict no tolerance policy on drugs and Lucy enforced it like a member of the Gestapo. One week she got rid of three of them, one who was next in line to win the welterweight title.
I smiled at her. “No, there just hasn’t been much going on lately. Micah said he had some paperwork for me about the rookie event tomorrow, so I came in to get that and pick up my costume. Did he leave anything with you?”
She rolled her eyes, “You know how that one is…he’s probably had it in his hand for an hour or two, running around there like a chicken with his head cut off, getting into everyone else’s business.”
“It’s okay,” I told her with a forced smile. “I don’t mind going back and finding him.” The truth was I’d rather pull out my own front teeth than have to go back there and face Lance right now…but I had my big girl panties on, so I sucked it up and without glancing through either of the small slit windows, I pushed open the doors. They only opened six inches or so before hitting a brick wall.
“Ow! Fuck!”
“Oh my goodness I’m so sorry, I…” My words failed me as soon as the “wall” I hit came into view. The door was pulled the rest of the way open and an impossibly tall and unmistakably male giant was standing in front of me. He had to be at least two inches taller than Lance who had formerly been the biggest man I’d ever seen, and his shoulders filled the entire space between the door and the hallway. He was scowling when he first pulled open the door but when saw me, his dark blue eyes suddenly twinkled and his harsh face softened into a lopsided grin. He was wearing a white muscle t-shirt and black shorts. His legs were almost as tall as me and his long arms were as filled with colorful tattoos as Jacob’s were…maybe even more. He had his light brown hair pulled back at the nape of his neck into a ponytail and there was the unmistakable outline through his shirt of a nipple ring.
“Well, hello there!” His blue eyes shamelessly roamed across my body. I realized suddenly that I was doing the same to him and my mouth was hanging wide open.
“Um…hi…I’m sorry…I didn’t see you there…”
He laughed, “It’s not often I hear that. I’ve been told I’m visible from the Hubble spacecraft.” I laughed. It was hurting my neck to look up at him, but damn if it wasn’t a fine view. “I’m Mick,” he said, extending a hand that would have rivaled any grizzly paw for size.
“Hi Mick, I’m Lizzie.”
“It’s a pleasure, Lizzie,” he said, once again dragging
his eyes over me. Anyone other than the octagon slut of the year would be offended by it…Sadly, I wasn’t. “Do you work here?”
“Sometimes,” I said. At least until I start to show. “I’m an octagon girl.”
He let out a long, low whistle and said, “You mean I’ll get to look at you strutting your stuff in a bikini before every fight? How on earth do these guys keep their heads…and by that, I mean their brains…in the game?”
“For one thing dude, we don’t hit on the octagon girls.” I heard Brock’s voice before I saw him behind the behemoth in front of me. Mick turned towards Brock and with another lopsided grin he said,
“Lizzie and I were just having a meet and greet between co-workers. There wasn’t any “hitting” going on.”
“Good.” I could tell by the way Brock was looking at him that he didn’t believe him….and he was pissed off about it. “You better get up there and pee in that cup for Lucy before she sends her dogs out sniffing the place for you.”
Mick had an amused expression on his face. He nodded at Brock and then bending down he put his mouth close to my ear and said, “I’m here all week, pretty girl.” I giggled, but Brock didn’t look amused.
“Hi,” I said to him, trying to draw his heated stare away from the giant.
He narrowed his eyes and looked at me. “Hey. What’s wrong? Did you need me?”
Oh, how badly I need him. “Nothing’s wrong. I had to come and get something from Micah and my costume for tomorrow.”
“Whoa dude, I get it, she’s your girl…”
Brock and I looked at each other. I wasn’t going to confirm or deny that. For a second, I thought he wasn’t going to either. But then he looked at Mick and said, “Yeah man. I’m sorry. I should have just told you…” He looked at me and winked. “She’s my girl, so hands off and put your damned eyes back in your head.” Mick looked anything but chagrined. He grinned and ran his eyes over me again before telling Brock,