by Amity Cross
I’d become the thing I hated the most. The pain, the desire, and the hatred…
I was Monica Miller version two point oh.
26
Dean
I was absolutely exhausted. Mentally, physically…in every way possible.
I’d trained nonstop, fighting against Lincoln, lifting more weights than I cared to count, eating bland food I’d rather forget the taste of…all in pursuit of the one goal. Josie Cunningham.
Day five brought us to my current position. Standing behind the scenes at the arena, waiting for my turn to weigh in and face off with O’Connell.
Knowing she was here made my skin prickle with anticipation, but none of the preparation I’d been through felt like it was enough. Shoving my hands into the pockets of my AUFC hoodie, I watched the movement up and down the hallways, waiting for a glimpse of my ray of sunshine.
She had to be here. There was no way in hell O’Connell would let an opportunity to rub her in my face slip by. He’d used that tactic during our last fight, and it’d worked miracles for him.
“Keep your focus, Dean,” Coach said beside me. “Weigh in and don’t let him play your anger.”
“You don’t have to worry about…” I trailed off as I caught sight of a head of blonde hair at the opposite end of the hallway.
Josie.
Straightening up, my lips parted as she turned. Everything slowed down around me as her gaze flicked around, looking for something…or someone
I’m here, Jo, I thought. Right here.
Then like all the stars and planets had aligned, her gaze met mine. She stared at me, her expression full of pain, and I could see the silent question in her eyes. Where was Monica?
I shook my head back and forth and mouthed the words, “Only you.”
Outside on the stage, the announcer broke apart the first moment I’d had with her since she walked out, and I felt like throttling the bastard.
“Welcome to AUFC Fight Night 41! To get things started, we’d like to welcome our octagon girls for this evening, Hilary and Sasha, and the AUFC director Charlie Freeman!”
She glanced away as someone appeared beside her and spoke into her ear. Then as if some invisible string pulled her back, her blue eyes searched me out again. That’s my girl.
I didn’t move my gaze from Josie’s as the octagon girls walked past, their hungry stares roaming toward me. Once, I would’ve taken in their tiny waists, big breasts, and round asses as they filed past, deciding which one I would approach after the weigh-in, but not tonight. There was only one woman I had eyes for, and she blitzed the competition without having to lift a finger.
The person who’d spoken in her ear had moved off, and she was standing there alone at the opposite end of the hall. My heart leapt, and I took a step forward. Now was my chance to put my plan into motion.
“You sure you want to talk to her now?” Coach asked, grasping my arm.
“I’m sure,” I said, pulling myself free. “I’ve never been so sure about anything in my entire life.”
Prowling toward her, I felt my body begin to respond. It was like somebody had put a magnet underneath my skin and it was being drawn together with hers. Nothing could’ve stopped my forward momentum once I’d got going, not even a wall of steel.
She was all I could see as I approached her, the pomp and procession of the weigh-in fading away into nothing. My head began to fill with the memory of her touch, the way she kissed me the night of the Gala, her body against mine, my cock in her wetness. It was all I could do not to fist my hands into her hair, pull her against me, and take her then and there.
As I stood before her, I could hardly believe the things that had brought us to this moment. The highs and the lows. The pain and regret. All I wanted to do was reach out and bring her home. To keep her safe and show her she deserved to be loved. She and I…it was right.
“Josie,” I said, my voice nothing but a sigh.
“Where is she?” she asked, her voice full of venom.
“Fucked if I know,” I replied, my ire beginning to rise.
Her eyes widened. “But aren’t you…”
“I’ve always told you the truth, Jo,” I murmured, pulling myself back under control. “I never touched her. You’re the one I want.”
“But… But she said…”
“Monica is a liar, Jo.”
She glanced around like she was looking for a way out.
“Come back to me, Jo,” I said, inching forward. “Come home.”
She shrank away, her breathing becoming erratic. What was she afraid of? This was fear I was seeing, right?
“Jo?”
“If he sees you with me…” she murmured, her gaze darting back over her shoulder.
I frowned, my blood beginning to boil. “Did he do something to hurt you?”
Her mouth opened but no sound came out, the expression in her eyes telling me everything I needed to know. O’Connell had her scared…so scared she was afraid to do something about it. For Josie Cunningham to be pushed off her foundation of wild energy, it must be bad. In all the time I’d known her, I couldn’t think of a single time she’d backed down from a challenge. Not until now.
“Jo,” I said again. This time, putting more force behind my words. “What has he done to you?”
“Now the event you’ve all been waiting for… The middleweight title fight,” the announcer exclaimed, amping up the crowd. “The bad boys of the competition are here in AUFC Middleweight 41 and are out for blood! Dean Hayes versus Gabe O’Connell!”
The crowd went berserk, jeering and whistling, the sound echoing down the hall where we stood.
“You better go,” she muttered, rubbing her palms up and down her arms like she was cold.
“Jo, please… O’Connell doesn’t deserve you. You need to cut him loose. If you need help, I’m here. I’m always here.”
“First up to the scales is Dean Hayes!” The announcer continued, oblivious to what was happening backstage. The AUFC stopped for no heartache.
“Go,” she said, nodding toward the stage. “Please, just go.”
Tearing my gaze away from Josie’s, I turned and strode out onto the stage, closely followed by Coach. Tossing my shirt and trainers, I stepped up onto the scales. I stared straight down the barrel of the camera, ignoring the chaos around me. I had to keep my focus now more than ever. Eyes on the prize and all of that.
“Eighty point two kilograms,” the announcer exclaimed as the number appeared on the display. “Dean Hayes!”
“Great,” Coach said as I stepped off the scales. “A kilo lighter than your last fight.”
I nodded in agreement, pleased we’d achieved a closer weight difference to O’Connell. Scooping up my shoes and shirt, we moved to the side of the stage and waited.
The announcer stepped into the spotlight. “And his opponent, please welcome Gabe O’Connell!”
My lips thinned as I waited for my enemy to appear. I’d never had an archnemesis before, and I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to react when he finally appeared. Linc and I had talked about the weigh-in over the last few days, and we’d both agreed I should ignore the wanker. He would put on a show, living up to his arrogance, and try to use Josie against me. I had to ignore his attempts and keep my focus.
Still, when O’Connell pushed the curtains aside and bounded up onto the stage, I couldn’t help the sneer that pulled at my upper lip. He treated the crowd to his usual antics, doing a cartwheel and a flip, landing smoothly on his feet. While the fans lapped it up, I shoved down the urge to choke on my own vomit.
He didn’t even glance our way as he turned and stepped onto the scales.
“Eighty point nine,” the announcer bellowed. “Gabe O’Connell!”
“He’s put on,” Coach murmured into my ear.
“Only two hundred grams,” I replied, curling my lip. “Hardly anything.”
“You’re matched more evenly now,” he countered. “It’s something at least.”
As O’Connell stepped off the scales, I strode over to meet him. No fear.
We faced off, eyeballing one another with as much disdain as we could muster. It wasn’t hard on my part. I wanted to rip him apart right then and there. After a little muscle flexing from O’Connell, we were pushed apart, and the weigh-in was over.
Out back, I parted ways with Coach.
I was hoping to find Josie and talk with her again because any contact with her was good when I’d had none at all. The two minutes we’d had earlier had done nothing but fan the flames she’d ignited in me weeks ago.
Turning down the hall that led toward the locker rooms, I came to a halt when I heard my name being called out behind me. Rolling my eyes, I turned, but instead of finding a reporter or a sneaky fan, I found the last person I wanted to see outside of the octagon.
Gabe O’Connell had followed me from the arena like a creepy serial killer stalking its prey.
“Hayes,” he said with a sneer. “How’s the head?”
“Practicing your stalking skills, O’Connell?” I retorted, my fingers curling into tight fists. Anything to keep myself in check.
We were alone, and there would be no witnesses… No. I had to wait until tomorrow night when I could pound his face as hard as I could and not get disqualified or arrested for it.
“You know,” O’Connell said, leaning close so his voice wouldn’t echo down the lonely corridor. “She’s a real fox.”
He didn’t have to elaborate on who ‘she’ was. “If you’ve done something to hurt her, you’ll regret it one way or another,” I snarled.
“Hurt her?” he asked, feigning shock. “She didn’t complain the other week when I felt her up. She’s got real nice tits.” He made an appreciative sound and laughed. “She’s a great kisser, that Josie Cunningham. Really goes for it.” He lifted his fingers and flicked his tongue between them.
My mouth fell open, but before I could do anything about it, he backed away laughing. Good for him because I would’ve cracked his skull open.
“See you tomorrow night, asshole,” he said, looking a little too pleased with himself, more than was normal.
I was too stunned to move. Josie kissed Gabe O’Connell?
I racked my brain trying to think of when it could’ve happened. At the Gala? No, she’d been with me practically the entire time. No, it had to be the weekend she disappeared to Melbourne. I’d pushed her away after she tried to tell me how she felt that morning in the gym…
Shit.
I could’ve been mad at her for running off and kissing the guy, but we weren’t together then. She’d obviously stopped things before they’d gone too far, but I didn’t have any right to be hurt over it. No matter how much I hated O’Connell, I couldn’t blame Josie for something she did while hurting. Besides, it would make me one hell of a hypocrite.
I knew better than anyone that heartache did crazy things to people, even the strongest of us all.
Knowing I wouldn’t be seeing Josie again that night, I turned and went back out into the arena to find Lincoln, Violet, and Coach.
It was time to go home and get some sleep because tomorrow, I was going to war.
27
Josie
“Are you ready?”
I glanced up at Gabe as he leaned forward and smiled at me.
We sat in the back of his fancy SUV on the way to the arena for the title fight, traveling from the hotel in Sydney’s CBD to the arena at Homebush in the inner west.
I was still reeling from the weigh-in the night before, but I hadn’t had any time to process the few stolen words I’d had with Dean. I wanted to plead for his forgiveness and explain why I couldn’t come back regardless of whether he was with Monica or not.
I had to stick this through and clean up my own mess. If I told Dean, he would want to pound Gabe into the ground and drag me back to Sydney kicking and screaming. He would rush in headfirst without any thought for the consequences. I had no idea when I’d be able to trump Gabe, but I couldn’t let him take Dean down. Knowing it wasn’t for any other reason than because he could, didn’t make it feel any better.
I had to bide my time because sooner or later, his arrogance would make him slip, and that’s when I’d get him.
“Josie,” Gabe said again. “Are you worried about seeing Hayes again?”
I shook my head. “No.”
He narrowed his eyes, not looking convinced in the slightest. “I’ve got your back. I won’t let him come near you.”
I bet you won’t, I thought to myself.
The car came to a stop, and the driver announced that we had arrived. Gabe smiled and threw me a cocky wink before reaching over and unclipping my seatbelt. Suppressing a shudder, I slid out of the car, leaving the door open behind me so he could follow.
“Let me look at you, Cunningham.”
I closed my eyes, praying for something to smite him with, and turned.
I’d gone for something a little more off-center than I usually wore to these events. Black leather-look jeans, patent black heels, cream blouse with silver buttons, and a tailored suit jacket thrown over the top. I was still appearing as one of Gabe’s PR managers, so I had to look the part. It was a different kind of professional than I usually exuded.
I waited as he looked me over, and he nodded appreciatively. My outfit seemed to pass the test.
“You look ravishing tonight,” he said. “Just in case I neglected to mention it.”
Holding my tongue, I smiled and turned to walk into the arena, but Gabe threaded his arm through mine and tugged me against his side.
Fans were lingering outside, watching the fighters arrive and calling out to their favorite for photos and autographs. When they saw Gabe, they began to go crazy, the event security trying to hold them back.
“Don’t look so panicked,” he said to me. “You look good on my arm. Ex-PR manager of my rival, who came across to the winning side. The pretty blonde with the lips to match.”
“You’re such a vapid excuse for a human being,” I hissed.
“Why, thank you,” he exclaimed with a great big smile as cameras flashed in our direction. “I’d rather spin it as being ruthless in the pursuit of excellence, but each to their own.”
Anything to justify his shitty behavior, I thought to myself, putting on an impassive expression for the press.
Thankfully, Gabe slipped his arm from mine and went to lap up the attention from his adoring subjects, and I had a moment of blessed peace.
As I watched him sign autographs for fans, I began to think about Dean. I didn’t know if I would ever be with him again, like we had been for those few short weeks, but I would never be able to shake my feelings. The same feelings that’d done nothing but grow out of control since we’d been apart.
I should’ve fought harder. I should’ve stood up to Monica. I should’ve stayed put when Dean pushed me away. He had been confused, and I was afraid… Our feelings had never been in the same place at the same time. Maybe that’s what went wrong when it came to the crunch. We were always just out of sync with one another.
Once we finally made it inside, Gabe barked an order at me.
“Go and make sure the press are ready and waiting for my entrance,” he said. “I want this fight to be about me and only me.”
I nodded sharply and ducked out of his locker room before he could add anything else to his list of extravagant demands.
“Josie.”
I turned at the sound of my name and almost had a heart attack. My gaze collided with a familiar face, and my knees almost gave way.
“Coach Miller,” I said, my hand flying to my heart.
He placed a hand on my shoulder and guided me to an alcove where we were out of sight from the foot traffic out in the hall. It was reassuring to see his familiar features. His salt and pepper hair, his lined forehead, and his eyes that eerily resembled Ren’s when she was pissed. After two weeks under Gabe’s thumb, it almost had me in tears.
&nb
sp; “Josie, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Andrew?” he asked with a kind smile.
“Yes, Coach.”
He’d always been more of a father figure to me and the fighters he trained than the hard-ass coach he was known as. Not that he should be underestimated. His fathering packed as hard a punch as his coaching technique did. I wondered if I was going to get some of it now.
“Dean’s worried that Gabe has done something to hurt you,” he murmured. “Has he?”
I hesitated, panic beginning to rise. If they meddled, then I wouldn’t be able to stop Gabe from spilling to the press. He had the recording from my conversation with Ren to prove every word he’d say.
“You’ll find no judgment with me,” Coach went on. “I’ve made more than my fair share of mistakes over the years, so I’m not qualified for that, but Josie… If he’s hurt you in any way, I can help you.”
“I made a mistake,” I said, trying to hold my tears at bay. “I should never have taken a job with Gabe. Ever since I walked in the door, he’s been manipulating me to get to Dean. Coach, he’s blackmailing me.”
“What?” His eyebrows rose in surprise. I bet he wasn’t expecting me to say that.
“I knew I was dancing with the devil, but I needed the money,” I blurted. “I thought I could handle him, but he’s threatening to ruin Dean’s career if I don’t follow his orders. He’s been forcing me to give away all your secrets. Training, weaknesses, the whole lot. I’ve been faking as much as I can, but I can’t for much longer.”
“Josie…” he said, his eyes filling with sadness.
“I’m hurt, but I could never be part of something that would destroy his life, not willingly. Fighting is his entire life, Coach.”
He nodded sharply.
“Don’t tell him,” I pleaded. “Not now. Not before the fight.”
At first, Coach didn’t say anything, he just stared at me with that stern expression he gave the Twins when they were misbehaving. I almost crumbled under the pressure of what I believed to be his complete and utter disappointment. But then he decided to tell me about his daughter.