Prepared to Fight

by E. J. Shortall

  Scrambling across the covers, I jumped out of bed and wrapped my arms around his waist. Looking into his eyes, I said, “We go wherever we damn well like, Mr. Oakes, because you’re the ultimate. You are the golden boy and I want to be with you.” The tension in his body disappeared in an instant as he laughed heartily.

  He drew me in close and encased me in his strong arms. “I love you, Olivia Buchanan.”

  “And I love you too, Nathan Oakes.” This time the words flew from my lips freely and proudly.

  ***

  Media conferences, interviews… weigh ins, they were full of gossip mongers looking for their next juicy tidbit to twist and turn into a wonderfully fabricated story. They were all an act, a carefully choreographed role play designed to heighten emotions and give the journalists something to report. Or at least that’s how it seemed. I knew it was how Nate felt.

  “What do they prove?” he’d grumbled during our short journey to the casino where the fight would be taking place the following day. We were going in for his official weigh in. “Fuck all, that’s what. As far as I’m concerned, our hands and feet should do the talking during the fight. It shouldn’t matter what I say in front of a bunch of idiots who are only there because they are told to be and not for the love of the sport. This shit should be done behind closed doors.”

  I sank back into the leather seat of the Cayenne and let him have his rant. I knew some journalists had a genuine passion and reported the facts, but many, like the ones who had hounded me the night before, didn’t. I wondered if joining him today had been such a good idea. If any one of those men or women sitting in the audience said anything Nate didn’t like, I had no doubt he would fly off the handle. My being there made that much more likely.

  The auditorium was packed when I snuck in the back with Cassie. We’d been warned by Nate’s PR people that it would be best to stay low key and unnoticed. The incident in the hotel had spread like wildfire, with articles talking about forbidden love, fights with journalists, drug abuse on Nate’s part—yeah, that one made us laugh seeing as his pre-fight test had been clear—among other things, popping up all over the net. Cassie assured me it was all part and parcel of the media hype. Nate needed to stayed focused and not let the attention get to him.

  We crept along the outside wall, staying in the shadows, making sure we still had a good view of the stage. Cassie explained what the process was and what I could expect. It all felt so surreal. The room was loud, with journalists, sponsors, promotions people and fans all fighting to be heard over one another. There was a buzz in the room that was difficult not to get caught up in.

  A gentleman in his early forties stepped on the stage along with a few other official looking people. They spoke amongst themselves for a few minutes before the main guy stepped forward holding a microphone branded with the main fight sponsor’s logo. The flash of camera lights grew insistent and the noise in the room lifted to almost unbearable levels when he welcomed the challenger, “Damián ‘the Dark Destroyer’ Sanchez” on to the stage. It was the first time I’d seen Sanchez in person. He had a similar stature to Nate, tall, lean and totally ripped. If it wasn’t for his darker, South American skin tone, he could have been mistaken for Nate from a distance. They had the same dark hair, cropped short on the sides, and the same gait that immediately commanded respect.

  I watched on in surprise as he stripped down to just a small pair of black briefs before climbing on to a large scale set up in the centre of the stage. I didn’t like how the few women in the audience screamed. If they screamed like that for Sanchez, they would be going frantic over Nate. I selfishly wanted that vision of him wearing next to nothing reserved for my eyes only.

  They concluded Sanchez’s weigh in, announcing his weight to the crowd. Then the guy with the mic introduced Nate. “Ladies and gentlemen, your champion, the one you’re dying to see. Nathan ‘Golden Boy’ Oaaaaakes!” The place erupted. Flash bulbs went off like a merciless electrical storm lighting a dark night sky. As Nate made his way to the stage, people reached out to shake his hand and called his name. Women screamed, telling him how much they loved and wanted him. He’s all mine bitches. I sagged against the wall trying to grasp the reality of the situation. The cool, focused man walking onto the stage was mine… all mine. The room suddenly felt like a furnace and I wasn’t sure if it was my reaction to Nate stripping down or if the room had actually become hotter from all the activity.

  I fanned my face frantically, causing Cassie to laugh and nudge me in the shoulder. It was announced that Nate too had weighed in at two hundred pounds. There really was nothing between the two contenders as far as weight went. I stood up tall again, standing on my tip-toes to get a better view when Nate and Sanchez squared off to each other. I’d never seen such venom from Nate before. There were lots of hateful glares on both sides, and even a few pushes, before Bernie was pulling Nate away and someone from Sanchez’s team pulled him back too. Being new to the whole scene, I wasn’t sure if it was all for show or if they genuinely detested each other that much. I figured it would certainly make for an interesting fight the next night.

  The compere guy approached Sanchez with his microphone, yelling over the noise of the crowd. “Damián, you’ve had two flawless bouts since your last fight with Nathan, how confident are you that you will beat him this time?”

  “I know I am going to beat him,” Sanchez replied with a strong Brazilian accent.

  “There have been a lot of allegations that this is more than just a title rematch for you. What are your thoughts?”

  Sanchez glared evilly at Nate. “This is definitely a grudge match. I’m looking for revenge.” Without another word, he stepped away and into the crowd of his team.

  The compere moved over to Nate, looking a little bewildered. “Nathan, how do you feel about coming out of retirement? Has your time away impacted on your fighting at all?” Nate looked less than impressed with the question and replied with a mediocre answer about working flat out with Bernie and his new trainer who had both worked him to his limits and prepared him for the fight of his life.

  “What are your thoughts on this grudge Sanchez has?”

  Nate narrowed his eyes on his opponent. “I don’t have a clue what he is talking about. He needs to keep his mouth shut and do his talking on the canvas tomorrow evening.”

  ***

  I spent the rest of the evening hanging out with Cassie and reading in my room. Nate attended more interviews and a photo shoot, and by the time he got back, he was so wound up and frustrated he went to the hotel gym to work it out in there. I hadn’t dared even say anything to him because the look in his eyes frightened me. I just wanted the fight to be over with so we could try to work out how we moved forward as a couple.

  The next morning when I opened my eyes, I felt groggy and nervous, not happy and content as I had been the previous day. Nate, Wes, Cassie, Bernie and Roy had left early for whatever pre-fight stuff they had to do. I was left in our suite with the instructions to be dressed and ready for the car that would pick me up in the evening to take me to the casino.

  I decided to eat breakfast alone out on the terrace. My hope was that the morning sun and sea breeze would help ease the churning sensation I had in my stomach. Something was amiss, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. Yes, I was nervous for the fight—Nate was deliberately putting himself on the receiving end of someone’s fist. But I knew it wasn’t just that. He was a well-trained martial artist who could defend himself and counter with a deadly blow. So why did I feel so worried?

  ***

  By noon, I was restless beyond belief. I felt cocooned in the suite, unable to go out for a walk for fear I might be recognised by any number of journalists or fans. Since my face had been plastered all over the internet for the previous two days, it wasn’t worth the risk of another run in with anyone this close to the event. I tried watching TV, but the only English channels were either sports or news. The news was full of doom and gloom and the
sports ones full of pre-fight build up. Neither helped my mood. I’d tried watching a movie but having to try to concentrate on the subtitles and watch the film at the same time just annoyed me. I turned it off and threw the remote on the bed in a huff.

  I checked my phone for the millionth time, hoping to have received a message or something from Nate. There was just a text from my mum wishing him good luck and saying she had booked the fight on pay per view. I had to laugh. Unless it was a gardening show, mum never watched TV. I could just imagine her and dad sitting down to watch the fight. Mum would be watching through her fingers, shaking every time a punch or kick was landed, and dad would be mumbling about what the point of it all was.

  With nothing else to do and no one to talk to, I grabbed my ereader and sunglasses and settled myself on one of the sun loungers on the terrace. It was a nice, warm, sunny day and I hoped the sea breeze would help ease my nerves and agitation. After reading and re-reading the same page over and over as my mind whirled a million miles an hour, I made one last attempt at understanding what I was looking at. The uneasy, nervous feeling I’d had all day would not disappear.

  Finally, I absorbed the words on the page and moved to the next when my phone rang.

  The screen showed me the handsome profile picture of my best friend, smiling with me at the last Ashworth-Moore Christmas party. “Adam!” I chirped, hitting the button to accept the call.

  “Hi, Liv. How’s it going?” The distinct sound of concern was missing; in fact, I could hear a faint smile in his voice.

  I grinned. “It’s going. I’m so glad you called, I missed your voice.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Things are kind of crazy around here right now, and I’m all on my own. I needed to hear a friendly voice. How is everything with you?”

  “It’s great now.”

  I pushed to my feet and walked towards the railing, staring out over the marina. “Oh? Why, what’s happened?”

  “I’m about to meet up with a gorgeous girl. I haven’t seen her for a while.”

  “That’s great, Ad. Are you going anywhere nice?”

  He chuckled. “She’s staying in some swank hotel. I’m meeting her there.”

  I smiled. Adam deserved to be happy. “Anyone I know?”

  The door opened and closed behind me. “You could say that.”

  I swung around and gasped. “You’re here?” I dropped my phone on to a lounger and ran across the terrace, throwing my arms around his waist. “Oh my God, you really are here. It is so good to see you!”

  Adam tentatively wrapped his arms around me and then tugged me in close. “It’s good to see you too, princess.”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, tipping my head back to look at him. He was a sight for sore eyes. Having not seen him for over eight weeks, I suddenly realised how much I’d missed him.

  “I was worried about you,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

  “I kept telling you, I’m fine.”

  “So why did you look like you were about slit your wrists?”

  I pulled away, reclaiming my seat. “I did not look like I was about to do away with myself. Jeez, Ad, dramatic much?”

  Pulling out the chair next to mine, Adam sat, appraising me.

  “Would you stop looking at me like that. You’re freaking me out,” I grumbled.

  “You look different,” he said softly.

  I stared down at my hands. “I feel different.”

  “So, are you and Nate… you know… together?”

  “Honestly? I think so. I hope so. But, it’s all so new, and with the fight and Nate being hounded by the press… I don’t know, everything just seems so screwed up right now,” I admitted as my lower lip quivered.

  Adam took my hand and squeezed. “Liv, you know my feelings. I meant every word I said before you left. But first and foremost you are my best friend. I’m here because I’m concerned about you, and I want to make sure you are okay. So, tell me everything. Let me help you.”

  For the first time in a long, long time, I cried. Having Adam with me brought out so many emotions I’d been trying desperately to repress. The last six week had been a journey of so many ups and downs and it wasn’t even over yet. As I wept into my palms, Adam jumped from his seat and pulled me into his warm, comforting, familiar embrace.

  “Shhh,” he cooed, brushing his lips across my forehead and running his hands down my back. “Tell me what’s going on, Liv.”

  I sniffled and moved away, swiping at my wet eyes with the back of my hand. As my head lifted, movement inside the suite caught my attention, a shadow moved away quickly. Hoping Nate was back, I ran past Adam and yanked the French doors open. The room inside was still except for the click of the main suite door. I ran to that and pulled it open, but the hall outside was empty. Whoever had been in the room had managed to get in the elevator immediately and was gone.

  Closing the door slowly, I walked back into the main room. Adam stood just inside the terrace doors, watching me carefully.

  “Someone was in here,” I said quietly.

  “Who?” he asked, sounding concerned.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t see.” I suddenly realized how things could have looked between Adam and me. I closed my eyes and shook my head. As if things weren’t crazy enough as they were, I now had to worry that someone had got the wrong impression. And what if that someone had been Nate?

  Adam crossed his arms over his chest. “Liv, I think you need to fill me in. Something’s going on here. I’ve never seen you so nervy.”

  Sinking down on to one of the plush sofas, I began regaling Adam with the soap opera that had been my life since leaving London.

  “Wow,” he said when I was finished.

  “The joys of being connected to the rich and famous, huh?”

  Adam joined me on the couch, looking a little shell shocked. “I wish I’d been able to come sooner.”

  “Why? There’s nothing you can do. This is all part of Nate’s life. This is who he is,” I replied with a shrug.

  “You really like him?”

  I looked him in the eye when I told him, “I love him, Ad.”

  He nodded, and to my relief, he seemed accepting, if a little resigned. “Okay. I’ll say no more on that matter. I just hope he doesn’t hurt you, Liv, because so help me God, MMA fighter or not, I will kill him if he does.”

  I gave him a small, grateful smile and decided to change the subject. My best friend was with me and I wanted to hear all of his news.

  ~CHAPTER TWENTY~

  “Stop fidgeting, you look beautiful,” Adam told me for the umpteenth time since leaving the hotel.

  I gazed down my body at the tiny black dress that had mysteriously appeared in my wardrobe, along with a note saying ‘wear me tonight’. “I’m not sure. Don’t you think it’s a bit too short and tight for my voluptuous figure?” I tugged on the hem hoping it would give me more coverage, but all that did was expose more cleavage than I felt comfortable with.

  Adam stopped in front of me and placed his hands on my shoulders, holding me firmly in place so he could look me dead in the eyes. “You. Look. Beautiful. You have an amazing body, and yes, the dress probably is too short. But I’m a hot blooded male who appreciates the finer things in life, so I won’t grumble.” He smirked and my eyes rolled at his comment. Suddenly, Adam’s gaze darted over my shoulder. His brows pulled together as he narrowed his eyes. “Or maybe I will.” I followed his gaze and noticed a group of men staring at my legs.

  “Well, I guess we’d better take our seats then, before you start your grumbling,” I joked, wrapping my arm through his.

  Earlier in the day I’d arranged for Adam to join me ringside. I’d been feeling uncomfortable about attending on my own, so having him accompany me was perfect. As promised, there had been a car waiting for us outside the hotel that whisked us through the busy streets to the exclusive casino resort the fight was being staged in. When we stepped out of the car,
I felt like a celebrity A-lister. Camera flashes went off around us as fans and photographers alike each fought for a photo opportunity.

  Walking into the casino lobby, I finally understood just how big of a deal these things were. Huddled in little groups, drinking champagne and chatting, were stars of stage and screen as well as a big named musician and several well-known sports stars. Wide-eyed and more than a little intimidated, I’d grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and nudged Adam into a quieter corner. I stood awkwardly, pulling at and fussing with my dress, feeling out of place against the glamour surrounding us. Adam simply wrapped an arm around me and laughed, telling me it was all part of the lifestyle of the rich and famous. I pouted and told him that I wasn’t rich or famous. Then I’d looked up and seen the huge banners of Nate hanging from the ceiling, swaying in the air conditioned breeze. I’d gulped, realising that being involved with Nate meant being involved with events like this. It was a part of his world.

  The arena was as I expected yet a total surprise all at the same time. I knew MMA fights were popular, and I’d had an idea there would be a lot of people there, but as we stepped through the door, the deafening noise of chanting fans, whistles and pounding music was almost unbearable. The room was dark, save for the coloured laser lights darting around and the spotlights centring on the monstrous cage in the centre.

  The buzz was already at fever pitch from the few undercard fights that had already taken place. When I learned that Wes had won his fight with a TKO in the first round, I screamed and flung my arms around Adam, kissing his cheek in joy. He’d stiffened at first but then laughed with me and hugged me back. It was hard not to get caught up in the atmosphere, and as my glass of champagne began to mellow me out, I soaked up the vibe and began to enjoy myself.

  During another undercard fight between two bantamweights, a gargantuan of a man with buzzed hair, wearing a crisp black suit, dark grey shirt, black tie and a barely visible earpiece, came over.