Surge: (#7 The Beat and The Pulse)

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Surge: (#7 The Beat and The Pulse) Page 18

by Amity Cross


  “I made a lot of mistakes with Monica,” he said. “I gave her everything she wanted and never thought anything of it. I thought if she wanted for nothing, then somehow, it would make up for my shortcomings with Ren. It was my guilt that caused Monica to be the person she was. I let her walk all over me.”

  I wanted to say something to make him feel better because Coach Miller was a decent man at his core, but he was right. You couldn’t sugarcoat the kind of person his daughter had become.

  “What I should’ve done was raise her with a stern hand and show her as much love as I did for Beat and the fighters I trained.”

  I didn’t understand what he was trying to say, but I waited to see where it was going.

  “The moment I found out she was responsible for letting that man into my gym to hurt Ren, my eyes were finally opened. I’d neglected her just as much as I’d neglected Ren. Monica’s betrayal broke everything in my life. It broke apart my marriage, it broke my heart, and it broke everything I’d believed in my entire life. It broke everything but my relationship with Ren and the Twins. I’m not a young man anymore, and now I can see…”

  He sighed sharply, and I began to realize he still blamed himself for what happened the night Ren was attacked.

  “I saw everything Monica did, but I didn’t do a thing to stop any of it,” he continued. “I saw the way she led Dean on. I saw the way she treated Ren when she first came to find me, and I saw the way she hadn’t changed when she came to see me the other week.” He looked at me for a long moment, perhaps waiting for his words to sink in before moving on. “What I have seen is the way that young man has grown since she left. Dean has become a man who can stand on his own two feet. He can stand on his own, separate from his twin. He was always a step behind his brother, in fighting and in life, but ever since you opened his eyes, he’s leapt right to the top. The boy has finally become a man.”

  “Coach, I…”

  “He told you the truth, Josie,” he stated. “He loves you, and I know you love him. Otherwise, you wouldn’t still be with O’Connell trying to save Dean’s career.”

  A tear escaped my eye and trickled down my cheek. Raising my hand, I swiped it away and composed myself.

  “We’ll find a way to work this out,” he said kindly. “He doesn’t blame you.”

  “He should,” I muttered, my voice wavering. “I didn’t believe him when he needed me the most and look what I did to him.” I waved my hands around, gesturing to the arena and the chaos of the pending title fight.

  “One fight at a time,” he murmured, placing a hand on my shoulder. “One fight at a time…”

  Wandering back to Gabe’s locker room, I contemplated everything Coach Miller had told me, my heart beating triple time. Dean had told me the truth, and I’d walked away from him.

  Lingering outside Gabe’s locker room, I actually began to feel sick to the stomach. I didn’t want to go in there and face the man who was into blackmail and treated me like a pretty whore to hang off his arm. I didn’t want to go in there knowing I was the one who’d gotten myself into this mess because of my pride.

  The sound of raised voices began to tug at the edges of my raging mind, and I peered into the room. Gabe was talking earnestly with his coach as they prepared for the fight, so I lingered in the shadows, waiting and watching, not in any hurry to announce my presence.

  “We need to get rid of him,” his coach said. “You beat him tonight, and he’ll just come back and challenge you again. Him or his brother. It’ll never end.”

  “What do you suggest?” Gabe asked, shaking out his arms between stretches.

  “It’ll be tough to get it through without being disqualified, but the only way I see this playing out is if you hurt him enough that he can’t come back.”

  Gabe paused, and a malicious grin began spreading on his face. “Ruin his career. For good.”

  “And if it doesn’t pan out, you have the girl.”

  I slapped my hand over my mouth as their words sank in. They were going to ruin Dean’s life, no matter what I did. He’d go down in the octagon, or he’d go down in the press afterward. Either way, he was screwed.

  My gaze darted back into the locker room. They hadn’t noticed I was here, so I had a chance to slip away and warn Dean, but I had to take it now. If I was ever going to admit I was wrong in leaving him, now was the time.

  Pushing off the wall, I slunk down the hall toward Dean’s locker room, knowing I had to suck up my pride and do the right thing.

  I was wrong.

  28

  Dean

  Smack!

  I punched the pad on Lincoln’s left hand, my gloved fist striking the leather dead center. Swinging with my left hand, I struck his right. I went back and forth, increasing my momentum.

  “Careful,” my twin warned. “You don’t want to wear yourself out before the main event.”

  “I’m too amped up to stand still,” I replied, firing off another set.

  “Keep your focus,” he countered, bracing as I smacked my fists into the pads again.

  I’d done nothing but keep my focus for the last week. Until yesterday, my eyes were on the prize, and now they were on the future. The title was nothing without Josie at the end of it.

  Seeing her so scared had me on edge more than the looming fight with O’Connell. I knew the guy was dirty but mistreating his staff? Shit, and if his kind of mistreating had anything to do with harming Jo, physically or mentally, there would be hell to pay. That kind of misconduct was a new low even for him.

  A knock at the door broke through my pattern, and I shook out my arms, flexing my head back and forth.

  “Yeah?” I called out.

  The door opened a crack, and a blonde head peeked through. Josie. She inched into the room, her gaze darting to Lincoln, then to me.

  “Can I talk to you for a moment?” she asked me, her voice wavering.

  “Give us a minute,” I said to Lincoln, never taking my eyes off Josie for a second in case she disappeared.

  I was vaguely aware of him tossing the pads and leaving the room. When the door closed, she just…came alive.

  “He’s planning something,” she said, her voice full of a desperation I’d never heard in it before. “He’s going to hurt you in the octagon.”

  I snorted. I’d suspected as much, and we’d trained for every possible scenario leading into this fight.

  “Please, Dean,” she went on, taking my gesture as a dismissal. “You have to believe me.”

  “Don’t you say a fucking thing, Jo,” I said, turning on her. “This time, you can listen to me.”

  Her expression fell as if I’d slapped her, but she remained silent, which must’ve been quite a feat on her behalf.

  “I know O’Connell is dirty,” I said, laying out my frustrations. “I know you kissed him when you ran off to Melbourne. I know everything.”

  “How…” she began, looking like she was about to hurl.

  “It doesn’t matter how I found out,” I went on. “It doesn’t even matter that you kissed him. I get it. We’ve both made epic mistakes and there’s no changing that. What I give a crap about is what happens next. Know that I’m going out there to fight for you. Not for the fucking title or revenge on a guy who kissed my girl. I’m going out there to show you I’m a good man, and I can win by playing by the rules. I’m going out there to prove to you I’m worth loving.”

  She stared at me with wide eyes, her mouth falling open as a tear slid down her cheek.

  “It’s fucking crazy,” I said, pulling on my gloves. “But I’m pretty sure this ache in my heart is love, Jo, but I can’t do that part alone. Not again. After all these years, I’m strong enough now to walk away if I have to, but I don’t ever want it to come to that. Not with you, but you’ve gotta choose. Either you love me back or you don’t.”

  “He was right…” she whispered, her eyes glassy with tears. I didn’t know who she was talking about, but I didn’t care.

&nb
sp; “I can win all the fights in the world,” I murmured, closing the space between us. “But I can’t win this one alone.” Raising my hand, I picked up a strand of her golden hair and twisted it around my fingers. “What’ll it be?”

  “You need to know something,” Josie said, dashing my hopes.

  “Now?” I asked, dropping my hand away.

  “I made a mistake,” she said firmly. “I believed a lie because it was easier to handle. I wallowed in my hate and walked right into a trap.”

  I frowned, not sure what she was getting at. “O’Connell?”

  “He wanted to lure me away from you all along,” she explained. “He’s going to ruin you, Dean. He’s blackmailing me.”

  “He’s what?” I could hardly believe what I was hearing. It was so farfetched it was almost laughable. “Why would he do that?”

  “Because he can.” She placed her palms on my chest and told me the whole story. Start to finish. “He’s going to destroy you, no matter what you do. That’s the only reason I’m staying with him. It’s my mistake. I need to find a way to fix it for good. I want to bring him down so hard he’ll never fight in the AUFC again.”

  “Fuck that,” I snarled.

  “I want to destroy him,” she said, like she’d just decided to fight.

  “Then let’s do it together.” I wrapped my arms around her body and held her close, drowning myself in the feel of her against my bare chest. She smelt the same, her familiar perfume wafting up my nose and sticking to my skin. I never wanted to let her go again.

  “Everything’s riding on this fight,” she murmured. “If you don’t win…”

  “Either way, I’m fucked,” I said, pulling back so I could see her eyes. “Unless I can win the title.”

  “But if you win, he’ll still ruin your reputation! Fighting is everything to you!”

  “I’m not a fan of fighting dirty,” I said, burying my hands in her hair, “but I reckon we need to fight fire with fire.”

  She stared at me, her eyes sparkling, and waited.

  “Make me a promise, Jo,” I murmured, lowering my mouth toward hers.

  A sigh escaped her lips, and her body melted against mine. “Anything.”

  “Fight with me. Not just until things get hard or scary but forever and through the wall of shit life throws at us. Because there’ll be a wall of shit like you won’t believe.” I stroked my thumbs across her damp cheeks, studying every fleck of blue in her beautiful eyes. “Promise me, Jo. Promise me you’ll believe this time. Promise me, and you’ll never be alone again.”

  Her gaze flickered to my lips and back up, her breathing becoming shallow.

  “I love you,” she whispered, the words I’d been dying to hear for so long finally out there. “I’m so sorry for not believing in you. I’m so sorry.”

  Fisting my hand into the hair at the back of her head, I pulled her mouth onto mine and kissed her, opening the floodgates. All my pent-up anxiety and longing bled from my skin into her, and when her tongue darted out to meet mine, I could’ve thrown down right then and fucked her blind…but I still had a fight to win.

  Reluctantly, I tore my lips away and rested my forehead against hers, my chest heaving. This was right. This was how it should’ve been all along.

  “Dean?”

  I glanced up at Lincoln, who’d stuck his head through the door.

  “What?” I asked, still spinning from the taste of Josie’s lips on mine.

  He glanced from me to Josie, and a sly smile appeared on his stupid face. “It’s time to walk, bro.”

  Turning my attention back to Jo, I smiled. “So crunch time has arrived.”

  “Give him hell,” she murmured, her fingers running over my swollen lips.

  “I intend to,” I replied, kissing her again. “All or nothing.”

  Time to go punch my way through a wall of shit.

  29

  Josie

  All this time, I’d thought Dean was the stupid one, but there was only one common denominator in all my failed relationships. Me.

  I thought he’d harbored secret feelings for another woman and acted on them behind my back. I thought he’d been using me for convenience. I thought I was just another disposable fuck to him. My thoughts were nothing but farfetched conclusions I’d jumped to without any provocation. My own insecurities had blindsided me.

  It turned out I was the stupid one all along.

  Dean had been straight up with me from day one. He’d told the truth, voiced his feelings, and made no apologies for his shortcomings. He just acknowledged them and asked for my help. He was motherfucking Einstein compared to me.

  Gabe would be pissed, but I didn’t care. Dean forgave me. Dean believed in me. Dean loved me.

  Wandering out into the arena, I found the VIP section. There were two empty seats in the front that I supposed were for Lincoln and Violet. I hoped she wasn’t too mad with me. The last time I spoke to Vee was at the cafe a few weeks ago.

  “Josie fucking Cunningham.”

  What in the world? My gaze raked the crowd, and when I saw the owner of the voice, my mouth dropped open. “Ren?”

  She rose to her feet, a shit-eating grin on her face. “Did you think I was going to miss this? The fight of the century?”

  Ash raised his hand and waved. “Hey. I’m here, too.”

  “Please tell me things are better,” she declared, ignoring her husband. “You look…rumpled.”

  “We hashed it out,” I told her as she gestured to the empty spot beside her. “I was so stupid, Ren.”

  “I know,” she said with a laugh. “But things are good?”

  “They are, but there’s still Gabe to deal with.” Sitting beside her, I leaned close and whispered in her ear, filling her in on what had transpired since we’d talked on the phone. Then I told her about what Gabe had planned for the fight.

  “But we have to tell the officials,” she argued, looking aghast.

  “No, that’s the last thing Dean wants,” I replied. “This fight has to happen.”

  “I hope that imbecile knows what he’s doing.”

  “So do I,” I murmured as the lights went down and the octagon was lit up. “So do I.”

  “This is the main event of the evening!” the announcer declared to the crowd. “And now… Welcome to AUFC 41! This fight is three rounds deciding the middleweight title. Introducing… Fighting out of the blue corner with nine wins, zero losses, standing six foot, weighing in at eighty point nine kilograms, and fighting out of Melbourne, Australia, please welcome Gabe O’Connell!”

  My gut twisted as I caught sight of Gabe as he paced in his corner, sliding in his mouth guard. Usually, he was hamming it up for the cameras, but not tonight. He looked mean, like he was all shaken up about something and more than ready to get the fight under way.

  When Dean came into view, my heart leapt, anticipation crawling over my skin. He tossed his robe to the ground as he climbed into the octagon. Wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and padded gloves, he looked handsome and ripped, every bit the man I was in love with. My head spun as I reminded myself of the words I’d told him moments before. I love you.

  Dean stepped into his corner and shoved his mouth guard in as the announcer turned in his direction.

  “And fighting out of the red corner with eleven wins, two losses, standing at six foot two inches, weighing in at eighty point two kilograms, and fighting out of Sydney, Australia, please welcome Dean Hayes!”

  The crowd cheered and whistled as he raised a hand to wave. All class. Typical Hayes trait.

  “Now to introduce our referee for the evening, Freddy Burns.” The ref stepped forward to the center as the two fighters approached their marks.

  “Gentlemen, you know the rules,” Burns said, his voice amplified through the arena by the microphone pinned to his shirt. He placed his hands on their chests, making a show of keeping them apart for the cameras, which were feeding the images to the screens around the venue and to the world via pa
y-per-view TV. “Protect yourselves at all times. Follow my instructions. Let’s have a clean fight, no funny business. Let’s touch gloves.”

  Dean raised his fists, and for a split second, Gabe didn’t move. Then to the displeasure of the crowd, O’Connell turned his back on the twin and strode back to his corner without touching gloves. Boos echoed through the arena, and I glanced at Ren, not liking the omen one bit.

  Not touching gloves with your opponent was the ultimate in disrespect. It was frowned upon for so many reasons, but most of all it was bad sportsmanship, and in this case, he didn’t touch because of a personal vendetta. If it was any consolation for what Dean and I had been though, Gabe would be crucified by the fans. It was a poor substitute for justice, but it was what it was.

  The fighters toed their marks, and just as the referee was about to call it, Dean muttered something to Gabe.

  As the fight began and the two men clashed, I edged forward in my seat. Gabe went in full force, attacking and putting Dean straight onto the offence. Whatever he’d said had driven O’Connell into a rage.

  A fist clipped the twin’s eye, and as he came around, I could clearly see the red mark. Gabe attacked again, delivering a set of punches that opened up Dean’s skin over his eyebrow.

  They broke apart and circled one another, Dean wiping the back of his arm across the blood, which had dripped into his left eye. Gabe was looking pleased with himself as he jabbed, testing his opponent’s defenses.

  Ren bumped my shoulder with hers, and I glanced at her. She smiled reassuringly, but I was on edge, having unconsciously moved forward in my seat as the fight progressed.

  The men grappled, both attempting a takedown, and Dean’s footing slipped under Gabe’s strength. They landed hard, O’Connell going for the hold. Glancing up at the clock, the round had one minute to go, and I worried the hem of my blouse as they fought for dominance.

 

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