Undisputed (The Undisputed Series Book 1)

by Aaron L Speer

“I just hope we haven’t made a mistake,” Robert said, checking through the curtains. “I’ve never seen him that pissed off. You know he will come back with something more on fight night. We have to be prepared.”

  “We have to train,” Fiona said.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “What is this supposed to be?” Owen asked, staring out onto the great expanse of Bondi Beach.

  “Special training,” Fiona replied, parking the car and getting out. Wasting no time in stripping to her bikini, she indicated for Owen to do the same. She pulled out the pads and walked just ahead of him across the small car park and walkway towards the hot sand. The beach was populated but not packed yet, as per usual this early on a Saturday. Fiona found a generous space for them to work with.

  “OK. Warm-ups. Let’s go.”

  Owen looked left to right. “Did you want to find a less busy part of the beach?”

  “Who’s the trainer?” Fiona replied, hands on hips.

  Owen raised his eyebrows a touch. “You.”

  Fiona replied in a harsh, loud tone. “And don’t you forget it, maggot. Or else I’m gonna shove the Sydney Scorpion’s stinger right up his arse!”

  Owen stood staring at her for several seconds before cocking his head to the side. “Was that your tough trainer pitch?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been working on it,” Fiona said, voice now normal. “Whattya think?”

  “Terrifying.”

  “Fuckin’ oath it was. I’ll come at you like a spider monkey. Now, let’s go,” she said, holding up the pads.

  Owen set himself up and began to hit the pads. One-two combos with his fists and a spinning kick for the seventh movement. They had only gone two sets when they were approached by a couple.

  “Excuse me, sorry to disturb, but can we get a picture with you, please?”

  Owen turned to possibly deny or postpone the request, but Fiona got out in front of him. “Sure, you got a phone? I’ll take it for you.”

  Fiona deliberately didn’t look at Owen’s stunned face as she reached for the newly unlocked phones the man and woman held out to her, camera apps open on both. Owen, after a moment of almost dumb shock, recovered enough to give a big, genuine smile as he placed an arm around them each. Fiona handed the phones back, and the couple made their way along, wishing Owen good luck for the match.

  When they had moved a few feet away, Owen walked up to Fiona, about to speak, when he jolted at a touch and looked behind him. He lowered his gaze. A girl with down syndrome, no more than four, wearing a pink one piece and a wide-brimmed bucket hat stood by his right leg. In her small fists, she held a cap and a texta. “Excuse me,” she squeaked, straining her neck to look up at him.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” Owen said happily, lowering himself to his knees. The tiny tot walked forward and placed her arms around as much of Owen as she could, patting his biceps affectionately.

  The sight truly warmed Fiona’s heart and made her ovaries explode. She had always known the way Owen was with kids. A lot of his charity work focused on kids with disadvantages or disabilities. She was wondering if this girl had been a beneficiary at some point when an older woman, perhaps her mother, walked over.

  “Hi, sorry to interrupt your work out. I’m Kate; I’m her mum,” she said, holding out her hand which Owen shook. “And this is Tegan.”

  “Tegan?” Owen replied, lowering his chin to look at her. She, in turn, looked at him like he was the greatest thing since sliced bread. “What a beautiful name.”

  “Can we say thank you to Mr Gasnier?” Kate asked softly. But young Tegan may as well have been wearing ear muffs, still content to gaze at Owen and smile. “I was just telling my friends that I thought it was you over here. They weren’t sure, but I pulled out my hat and texta, saying, ‘I bet it is’. I laid them down next to me, just so I could pull out my phone and search for your picture to convince them, and a sneaky little so and so decided to wander over with them.”

  Owen tickled Tegan under the chin, bringing a giggle. “Are you the so and so... Is that you, is it? Did you want me to sign this for mummy?”

  “No, it was for her! She saw your poster on a wall at the doctor’s office last year. You were a sponsor or a guest at a conference our GP went to. Now Tegan loves watching MMA, can you believe it?” Kate said, laughing. “But only you. She calls you ‘Gaz’ and wants one of your shirts for Christmas. It’s crazy.”

  Owen smiled, signed the cap for her, and gave one final hug before both mother and daughter walked away hand in hand.

  “This is why you brought me out here, isn’t it?” Owen asked, turning just his neck to look at Fiona. “To get amongst the people?”

  “Yes. Despite everything, you still have this aura around you. Your dad can focus on the technical aspects. But this shit is my territory. You’ll be in the Cage against that freak of nature, one-on-one, but you won’t be alone. You’ll never be alone. Even if you lose faith in yourself, you have so many people that would give anything just for a brief moment of your time. People that love you. That you inspire. It’s a long and lonely journey... Just don’t ever forget about us.”

  Fiona gestured with her chin for Owen to turn around. The friends Kate mentioned were coming over. After a few minutes, Owen had taken selfies with them all. His arm around shoulders and waists. Shaping up as if to fight some of them, etc. The girls had given their phones to Fiona and asked nicely if she could do the honours.

  As Fiona clicked away, more and more people surrounded them, phones out. Excited chatter swelled, exactly what Fiona wanted. In the slow swell of the crowd, Fiona managed to get a few photos, with her own camera, of different women with Owen without anyone noticing. There was too much going on. Too much excitement with a world celebrity.

  Fiona walked about ten feet away to sit down. Content to leave Owen with the salivating, bikini-clad, tanned honeys. Now came the other part of her plan. The extremely risky, and quite possibly illegal, part. Where, if Owen knew what she was planning to do, he’d most definitely stop her.

  Just as she worked up enough courage to begin, a tattooed, buff islander came and sat next to her, plastic cup in hand. “Hey there, how are you?”

  “I’m fine, thanks,” she replied, not taking her eyes off her scrolling screen. “But my penis fly trap is drier than an Arabian desert and not accepting guests at this time. Thank you for registering your interest to visit. Kindly, fuck off.”

  Thankfully, he took the hint and kind of slithered away, allowing Fiona to concentrate. She opened her social media and created a new account with a fake name. Finding the most active tabloid account, Who Daily, she typed a private message.

  Anonymous: I have information and proof of more Gasnier scandals.

  It took less than ten seconds for the recipient to start typing.

  Who Daily: Hi there. We would be very interested in anything you could provide us. If we run the story in either our published magazine or blog, we will pay a lump sum as remuneration.

  Now. How best to sound convincing?

  Anonymous: I don’t want money. It’s a story that few people know, but it will come out eventually. Here...

  She opened the gallery on her phone and blacked out a woman’s face in a picture before sending it through.

  Anonymous: My bestie and Gasnier. Ditched her like yesterday’s news after a few nights.

  She took a breath. Man, this was harder than she thought.

  The reply seemed to come back faster this time.

  Who Daily: Is she pregnant?

  Oh, God. No, she couldn’t answer that. She couldn’t lie about that. Not even for her plan. Not after everything Owen and Tegan had gone through. But she was convinced her idea could work, and it would help Owen. Even if it did work, even if it did help, she knew, even if Owen and Tegan forgave her, she’d never forgive herself for abusing the horror they had gone through.

  Play on the greed, Fifi, she told herself. You’ve got these vultures intrigued. These were the ones that lau
nched the bullshit witch hunt against Owen in the first place. She could use that. You’ve said you don’t want money. They were free to run with this however they wanted. All she had to do was give them one final nudge.

  She let out a sigh.

  Anonymous: What do you think?

  There. Perfect. She hadn’t said anything that would shame anyone. She had given THEM all the info they needed without actually saying anything. In reality, she had asked a question, but how they interpreted it was up to them.

  Fiona waited for a moment or two, flicking glances up at Owen whose line up of fans hadn’t eased at all. He was properly distracted as Fiona kept refreshing her browser on the Who Daily page. Time seemed to crawl by until she had to suddenly do a double take. The page had refreshed. A new post had been created, featuring her blacked out picture.

  He Won’t Stop!

  Fiona clicked the post and continued to read. It was short.

  An exclusive reveal to Who Daily: Serial womaniser, Owen Gasnier, has struck again. In another display of inexcusable arrogance, the MMA superstar has allegedly impregnated the unknown woman pictured below, a close friend revealed. Gasnier is in town preparing for his title fight later this year.

  Fiona immediately copied the link to the article, deleted her fake account, and opened up her true account. She pasted the article on her page and blasted it. She called it every name under the sun, posted it on Owen’s wall, and every MMA page she could find. It didn’t take long for comments to begin. Some putting Owen down. But she had expected that. The others that were trickling in were trashing the article. Until, finally, the article reached the ‘right’ people. Those with their phones already out and him on their minds. Those in front of her on the beach. They were uploading their own photos to their social media accounts.

  WTF? This was taken on Bondi Beach. He’s HERE TODAY. TAKING PICS WITH FANS!

  LOL. You guys are pathetic. #TEAMGASNIER.Chris, you see this?

  Chris uploaded a selfie taken with Owen and left a reply.

  Chris: This pic was taken five minutes ago. See the hotel in the background? It’s exactly the same. I don’t believe anything you guys say about him. Shame on you. I’m on #TEAMGASNIER.

  Fiona took a group shot of all the fans lining up to see Owen, most of whom she knew had no idea this was going on. She posted the picture in the replies and labelled it:

  How many of these women are you going to falsely accuse him of screwing next? I hope he sues you for defamation. None of these allegations are true, and you can’t prove anything. Gutter trash.

  Comments kept flying in.

  LEAVE GAZ ALONE!

  Anything for a story.

  What a joke.

  Desperate for a headline? Slow news day?

  Ha! Epic fail.

  Fiona finally felt free to close her phone. Her plan had worked. She’d been able to utilise social media and the current situation to bring his fans out to defend him when he’d done nothing wrong. Something they hadn’t had the chance to do when the ‘scandal’ first hit. OK, so it wasn’t going to win the fight for him. It wouldn’t even make the prospects of him winning any better. But it did one thing at least. It proved Diaz wrong. The people hadn’t completely turned on Owen. Maybe, just maybe, if Owen believed in the faith of the fans, even after all the horrible lies, he might just believe in himself enough to win.

  * * *

  Owen walked into Fiona’s apartment and bid her goodnight, thanking her again for the day. To just be himself, and not worry about any bullshit, was bliss. He loved the fans, and they gave him such an incredible boost he could not accurately describe his gratitude. He snuck into Tegan’s room just in case she was asleep. She had her back turned and was under the covers when he slid in behind her.

  She stirred slightly and gave a soft moan. “You shouldn’t be in here, Mr Gasnier.”

  “Do you want me to leave?” he asked softly.

  Tegan reached behind and tucked his arm underneath her. “Never... Are you ok?”

  Owen pressed his lips into her back. “I just needed to see you.”

  “I’m right here,” she whispered, running her fingertips along his forearm, pressing her rear back into him. “Talk to me.”

  Owen groaned. “It’s really hard.”

  Tegan kissed his hand and bumped her ass into him again. “I noticed.”

  Owen let out a quick breath and placed his mouth on her neck, leaving slow kisses along her neckline. “There’s no sex during training, baby.”

  Tegan let out a soft moan, scraping her fingers across the back of Owen’s head. “So, stop turning me on and tell me what you’re really doing here. Otherwise, I’ll ride that dick until sunrise.”

  Owen paused for a minute before replying softly, “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

  Tegan stopped teasing and turned around to face him, side on. “Why would you ask that?”

  “I’ve always followed a routine before a fight. I’ve never actually shared a bed with someone the night before. If I want to beat this guy, I need to think about doing this differently.”

  Tegan gave a non-believing huff. “Try again.”

  Owen stroked her face, submitting to the truth. “I don’t want to be alone tonight. I’m afraid.”

  “That’s better. Now, why are you afraid? Of getting hurt?”

  “No, of not being good enough. That, no matter what, that belt just doesn’t belong to me. I can train hard, believe in myself, and if I lose, I lose. But there’s also this fear that after all of this build-up, I’m just not good enough.”

  “If I tell you you’re good enough for me, will that be enough for you?”

  “I’d like to think so. You make me happier than I’ve ever known, but the truth is I want this, Teegs. I want the championship. My whole life’s work has been building to this. To be the best. What if, after all is said and done, all this belief, all this hard work; is for nothing? I know I’ll never get another opportunity. This is it. One chance. One shot. If I’m not champion after this fight, what am I?”

  Tegan hushed him and flipped him over, putting him on his back. “Mine, Goddammit. You’re going to be mine. I could tell you that it doesn’t matter to me if you win or not. I’ll love you no matter what, but you’re right. You need this. For you. Do what you have to do and leave nothing to chance. This is your life’s work. It is your only chance. So, use it, baby. That’s one thing Diaz can’t understand. There is no tomorrow for you. No second chance. That makes you what?”

  Owen slowly gripped the cheeks of her arse, “Unpredictable.”

  She pulled his top up. “What else?”

  “Desperate.”

  She undid the cord of his pants and reached inside them. “What else?”

  “Dangerous.”

  Tegan grinned. His eyes blazed as she gripped him and slowly stroked. “Show me, baby.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Howdy, howdy, howdy, sports fans. Well, it’s here. Fight Night. Not just any fight night. Heavyweight Title Fight Night. The biggest prize in our industry is up for grabs as two of the best in the business go toe-to-toe. Good evening, John! How do you see this one going down?”

  “Hello, indeed. Yes, coming to you live from Sydney, Australia in the first-ever heavyweight title challenge by an Australian in Australia. Homebush Stadium is filled to capacity for this historic moment. As for my prediction, I gotta admit, I’m torn. Before Gasnier’s last match, I would’ve said this match was too close to call. A match for the ages that could go either way. Though, after having seen the beating he took, I sincerely doubt his team had time to correct the sloppiness that bogged him down in that match. I’m leaning towards agreeing with the betting agencies. This won’t end well for him.”

  “Interesting point you bring up, John. Fight fans know Team Gasnier has been a father and son dynamic from day one, but in the last few weeks, they’ve added a new member. Perhaps it could be to address that sloppiness you mentioned?”

 
“Well, they would have to make history for that to be the case. I was looking her up just before. The young lady has no history with the organization or the sport. She is a complete unknown. The only thing we do know is that she certainly isn’t intimidated by the Heavyweight Champion (laughs).”

  “(Chuckles) No, she certainly wasn’t. I think we all will remember that press conference for years to come. So ultimately, you’ve cast your dice, John, and it’s landed on Diaz?”

  “Yeah, I think if Gasnier, by some miracle, can get over the psychological beating he took last time in the Williams fight, the fans might be in for a good match. If he can’t, they better have an ambulance ready coz this will get ugly, ultra ugly. Either way, the majority will leave here shattered. Diaz wins via knockout.”

  “I dunno, John. Never discount the hometown boy is all I’ll say. Now we head down to floor level where Penny Kusto is at the ring. What’s the atmosphere like there, Penny?”

  * * *

  Owen held his hands up as Robert strapped his gloves on, focusing on Robert’s work, letting his mind clear. This was his method twenty minutes out from every fight. This time, though, there was a difference. He looked at Fiona, who had never left his side. Owen held in a short breath and then let it out.

  Robert had finished and straightened before Owen did the same. He placed his hands on Owen’s neck and pressed firmly, ensuring Owen looked at him. “Clear your mind. You can take him, but I will stop it if I have to. You understand?” Owen nodded slowly. “It’s all on you,” Robert said gruffly before drawing him in for a hug. “The belt better come home where it belongs…around your waist. You know what you’ve gotta do.” Owen didn’t think he was expecting a response but nodded again anyway into his shoulder. “Do it,” Robert concluded.

  When Robert had moved back, Fiona replaced him in embracing Owen. “We’ll be right there with you, Gaz. We love you.”