The Comeback: An MMA Romance Novel (Book Two)

by Thunderbolt, Liberty

  “Come on,” she said.

  “No, it’s not happening.”

  “You’re kidding me, right? Or you’re just scared?”

  The pouty look returned, and she followed me. She grabbed me again and massaged my semi-hardness. “Come on, Zane. We need each other.” Her hand slipped over my waistband and under my shorts, finding me now almost fully hard. She breathed deeply. “God, I want this in me.”

  I turned, and gripped her wrist, pulling her hand off me. “Seriously, this can’t happen. I’m not kidding, and I’m not scared.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “Come here.” She reached for my dick even though it was now tucked back in safely behind my shorts.

  I looked at her for two or three seconds, but it seemed more like two or three minutes. “Put your shirt back on, Leeza,” I finally said.

  “I don’t think you want that. Take your shorts off. I want you inside of me. I want to taste you again.” She looked me up and down.

  “No, I do want that. I can’t fucking be with you. I’m with Elizabeth, and that’s not going to change.”

  A look of shame shot across her face, and then her eyes went from hungry to deadly. She backed away, and slipped her shirt back on with almost the same grace as when she’d removed it.

  “You’re so stupid, Zane.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  She turned to the door and stomped toward it. Then she spun around and pointed her finger at me. “Better have my money next week, or Sam is gone.”

  She slammed the door. I’d been just strong enough, but I felt pretty weak for coming so close to giving in to the beautiful insanity. I also felt like I had passed some kind of test. It wouldn’t be the only test for the weekend.

  I snatched my phone off the bed and sent Elizabeth a text. I can’t wait to see you after the weigh-in, babe.

  Chapter 38

  Mace said, “You did the right thing.”

  “Yeah man, don’t even think about her craziness.” Tyson added. “You’ve got a fight to get ready for.”

  “I know guys. I’m not sweating it. Sam and I need a clean break. And I think there could be a future with Elizabeth.”

  We were in the hotel lobby sitting at a table by the center fireplace waiting for the van to take us to the weigh-in. I hadn’t even planned on telling Mace or Tyson about what went down, but we had just seen Leeza walk through the other side of the lobby. She gave me a look that made me think she was Satan’s big sister. This led to the conversation about her failed seduction attempt.

  The final five pounds had come off like melted butter. I’d only eaten half a Balance Bar all day, and had just gotten out of a thirty minute sauna session. I checked my weight on the scale in the UCC’s conference room and it had me at 185.2 pounds with my shorts, socks, and t-shirt on. I’d probably weigh-in at least a half-pound under, and I felt great.

  Benson Tabbs busted through the doors of the lobby. We heard him before we saw him. “Let’s roll. Let’s roll.” He hollered in between loud claps.

  Benson was the man who made sure everything ran perfectly, and the former marine did his job well. We pulled ourselves out of the soft chairs and walked around the fireplace.

  “Van’s waiting boys. Head out front.”

  We piled into our van for the short drive to the arena. There was the three of us, two people we didn’t know, and another guy on the main card along with his corner men. “What’s your weight gents?” Benson called from the front seat.

  The other guy said, “171, I’m good.”

  “I’m at 85 right now, Benson,” I said.

  “Good deal because it’s time to roll. We’re fighting this weekend!”

  Benson’s enthusiasm was contagious, and I started getting amped despite being pretty hungry. I was just a day away from reaching something I didn’t think could ever be possible again.

  Moments later, we were sitting in section 116 of the Chesapeake Arena. We stared at a concrete floor that proudly displayed a cage in its center. To our right was a giant current. On the other side a couple UCC fighters and Oliver Reed were engaged in a question and answer session with some diehard fans. In half an hour that section would be filled with three thousand screaming fans there just to watch us all step on the scale.

  I looked across the arena and past the cage. In section 106, directly across from us, I spotted Jordan Powers. He was leaning back in his seat, his beefy arms spread out to his side on the back of the empty seats on either side of him. I envisioned punching him over and over.

  After a short wait, they started calling us down. Like an assembly line we took our time going through our final checks before the weigh-in. Then they lined us up for the entrance. Jordan and I were last. They kept us separated, but we were still just ten feet apart. I kept glancing at him. He never looked at me once. He was playing the game of acting like I wasn’t worth his time. Seven thousand threads on the Underground forum said otherwise.

  The weigh-in started. We crept along next to the back of the gigantic black curtain. I could feel the energy on the other side. UCC commentator Jace West screamed out each fighter’s name, and they took their turn stepping on the scale.

  Finally, it was my turn.

  “You’re ready for this, Zane,” Mace said.

  “Damn right.”

  We hit knuckles as Jen told us to step forward. “Wait here until your name is called,” she said.

  We stood there, and I heard my voice on the big screen. “I’m better than I was when I held the belt, and I’m going to prove it at UCC 145. I’m going to beat the crap out of Jordan Powers.”

  It was from a short interview they did as soon as I finished my doctor exam yesterday. I barely heard the end because the crowd was going bonkers.

  I jumped up and down a bit. My energy was bursting. I glanced at my shirt. Gold Star Fight Company looked good across my chest, but I reached down and touched the much smaller Mac’s Auto label. It made me think of home, and why I was here.

  Then I heard Jordan Powers’ voice on the big screen. “He’s washed up. He’s talked his way into this fight. I’m going to show him how far the sport has come in the last few years. I’m putting Zane Todd to sleep tomorrow night.”

  This was met with a mix of cheers and boos from the crowd. I was definitely the hometown guy.

  “Fighting for the UCC middleweight belt, Zane Todd!” Jace West yelled.

  “Go, go, go.” Jen prompted.

  Mace and I pushed through the curtain. The lights and noise almost knocked us over. A security guy stood to our right and pointed toward the stairs to the stage. We walked up them.

  Benson Tabbs was at the top of the steps. “Strip down,” he said.

  I looked out at the crowd, even though I couldn’t make out any faces, and pointed and flexed. Then I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my shirt. I handed both of them to Mace, and then slipped out of my shorts. I had on some brand new blue Smurf boxer briefs for the occasion. Sam liked the Smurf movies. I heard the crowd laugh.

  “Cute,” Jace said into his microphone.

  I took a couple steps to the scale and got on. The guy tapped it a couple times and then said to Jace, “184.6.”

  “184.6,” Jace repeated into the microphone.

  I turned to my left and shook Nick Lewis’ hand. “You look good, Zane,” he said.

  “I feel great.”

  Mace gave me my clothes. I re-dressed as Jordan was announced. He weighed in at 185 on the nose.

  I rolled my shoulders and waited. He put his shorts and shirt back on and came towards me. Nick shook his hand briefly and then Jordan locked his eyes on me. We squared off without being asked.

  It was the second time in two days. Our energy was harder to contain this time. He leaned in. I jammed my forehead into his. We pushed hard at each other. “Come on bitch,” he said.

  Nick was between us, pushing us apart. The crowd was cheering like crazy.

  “Our main event tomorrow night,” Jace
said. “It’s going to be a hell of a fight. Thanks for coming to the weigh-in.”

  I walked down the stairs. The last hurdle before getting into the cage had been cleared. Or so I thought.

  Chapter 39

  Mace and Tyson had just left my room. We’d been watching more video on Powers. We had the game plan and had talked one last time about how to best implement it.

  After the weigh-in we had dinner. Elizabeth sat on one side of me, Sam on the other. I felt like I couldn’t be in any better place.

  I didn’t stuff myself like an idiot. A small amount of food with good carbohydrates every hour or so and a lot of water and Pedialyte was the best way to replenish. I was already back up to 192 pounds.

  I flipped through the TV channels and couldn’t find anything on. I got up and walked around. I stared out the window to the northwest toward Bricktown Ballpark.

  The waiting sucked.

  There was a knock at the door. It was a little after nine o’clock. I really hoped that it was anybody but Leeza. I couldn’t deal with either one of her personalities right now, the one that wanted to fuck me, or the one that wanted to stab me.

  I swung out of bed and hustled to the door. I looked through the peep hole to see Elizabeth. A smile spread across my face. I flung the door open and gave her a big hug.

  “How are you doing?” She asked.

  “Great, now,” I replied.

  I planted a kiss on her thick soft lips. She returned the kiss and stepped into the room.

  “God, I can’t believe all this. I’m so excited for you.”

  “It’s crazy, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, and it makes me want you so badly.”

  I thought of how just twelve hours earlier it was Leeza coming onto me. I’d almost given in. I was so glad I didn’t fuck it all up. This time, with Elizabeth, it felt so much better.

  “Let’s go to the bed,” I said.

  “No way. I’m not going to have sex with you the night before your fight.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Hell yes! Believe me, I want to explore every inch of your hot body, but I can wait until after you knock that asshole out.”

  I couldn’t believe that she was willing to wait. Leeza was always horny as hell during fight weekend, and she forced me to have sex even when I was tired. Even though I was desperate to make love to Elizabeth, it was a relief to have her thinking of nothing but me.

  We sat on the bed and talked for a while. She told me all about how everyone in Erickson had plastered posters all over town encouraging me. So many people were pulling for me.

  “So, Sam asked me if you were my boyfriend,” she said.

  “Really? What did you say?”

  “I told her that we were really good friends and I really cared about you.”

  “How did she respond?”

  “She said that you should be my boyfriend. ‘It would be cool if you were my daddy’s girlfriend,’ were her exact words.

  I smiled. “Very cool.”

  “I want to stay all night, but I want you to be able to focus,” she said.

  “I don’t mind if you stay.”

  “No, you get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She kissed me deeply and placed her hand on my chest. Having her against me was like heaven.

  “I’m really glad you’re my girlfriend,” I said after we broke apart.

  “Me too,” she replied.

  We kissed again at the door, and then she was gone.

  At ten o’clock I pulled out my laptop and logged on to the Underground. I hadn’t been on over the last few days. I posted an update that I was ready to get after it tomorrow night. I watched it fill up. A lot of people were pulling for me. Almost as many told me I’d get knocked out.

  I clicked over to MMA Fighting. Ari had a clip available about UCC 145. I hit the play button and waited for it to buffer. The hotel’s wifi was slow.

  Finally, it fired up. I watched as Ari talked with Gorgeous George about the card. After a few minutes they settled on my fight. After a minute of setting it up, George said, “What everyone wants to know is this; does Zane really have a chance against Powers?”

  “I like Zane. I really do. I appreciate the underdog story, but no, no chance. He’s going to get destroyed. He can fight, but Powers is on another level. I mean look at the odds.”

  “I agree,” George said. “Vegas has him at an 8 to 1 dog, and that might be too low. I love the guy, too. He’s been on my show many times and it’s great to see him back, but I’m afraid tomorrow night will end badly for Zane Todd.”

  Ari wrapped it up, and the clip was over. I shut my computer and their words sank in, even though I tried to not let them. What do they know? They’d never fought. Still, I kept seeing the numbers 8 and 1 dance across my mind.

  I wasn’t mad at them for their predictions. It made sense. I wasn’t supposed to be here, but I was.

  I pulled on my hoodie and headed for the door. I needed some fresh air, and I needed to get my mind right. At the front desk I checked to see if Morris had arrived yet. He was tying things up at the Coliseum and planned on arriving late tonight.

  I headed out the side door and found myself walking along the canal. The night air whipped around me, sending a chill through my veins. I tried hard to see myself winning. The visions were fuzzy, like looking through a glass of water.

  I found a dark bench on the south side of the canal. It was close to a bunch of horse statues that looked like they were crossing the water. I pulled my hood up over my head and leaned forward, elbows on my thighs.

  Maybe ten minutes had passed, and I remained motionless. Then I heard a group of guys heading my way. I glanced up to see six or seven college-age guys on the other side of the narrow canal. “UCC tomorrow night,” one of them yelled.

  “Gonna be badass,” another said.

  “Anybody think ZT has a chance?”

  “Hell no,” one said.

  “I wish, but he’s going to get knocked out.”

  “And we’ll be there to see it,” another one said.

  They all laughed and cheered and high-fived each other. The shit a bunch of young drunk guys do.

  Damn, nobody believed in me. I wasn’t even sure I believed in myself. I got up and started walking west along the canal, hands in my hoodie pockets and eyes locked on the path in front of me. I felt beat before I even had a chance to get in the cage.

  There was a bend in the path near a bridge. I looked ahead and saw them about the same time they saw me. “We’ve been looking for you, Zane,” Lorenzo said.

  His cousin Lawrence was by his side.

  Chapter 40

  I stood stone-still. They just stood there as well. “I’m not in the mood right now.”

  “That’s a shitty way to greet us,” Lorenzo said.

  “I don’t really care.”

  “Hey man, we need to talk about something serious,” it was Lawrence this time.

  “Like I said, I don’t really care.”

  Lawrence answered by moving toward me a lot faster than I expected.

  “I’m not fucking around,” he said. His eyes were small and hard. “We got you here, so you’re going to listen.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You think it was all luck?” Lawrence said.

  “What was all luck?”

  “You’re a lot of things, Zane, but you aren’t stupid. You think Sherwood just happened to get sick exactly like the dude at the Coliseum last month?” Lorenzo said.

  I kind of shook my head trying to process what he was saying.

  “Yeah, we got you here.” Lawrence added. “You wouldn’t be in UCC 145 if it wasn’t for us.”

  “You two are full of shit,” I said. I didn’t know if I believed myself or not. “How could you even make Sherwood sick?”

  “Remember the EPO? I know people, Zane. I got some stuff that is nearly undetectable. We fronted a waiter a hundred dollars to help us g
et it into Sherwood’s system. And by the way, you owe us a hundred dollars.”

  I felt a little dizzy. I couldn’t wrap my head around what they were telling me. “You guys are nuts,” I said.

  “Maybe,” it was Lawrence, “but it’s worked, hasn’t it? You had to know something was up. You basically begged us to do something like this at Chuck’s Place the other day.”

  “No, I didn’t!”

  “Whatever,” Lawrence said dismissively. “That’s not why we really need to talk. I need to let you know about my bet.”

  Lorenzo and Lawrence glanced at each other, like they had a great secret they were about to dump on me.

  “What bet?”

  “I put five thousand on you, Zane.”

  My feet seemed to be rooted in the ground. My eyes shifted from Lawrence to Lorenzo and then back to Lawrence.

  “Yep, got you at plus 800. I’m looking at forty thousand if you pull off the upset.”

  “I appreciate the confidence,” I said in a sarcastic tone.

  Lawrence laughed. “The way I see it is you owe me a lot. First the EPO, and now we got you this fight. So here’s the deal, if you don’t pull off the win I’ll expect you to cover my five thousand.”

  “I’m not covering shit,” I said.

  “Yeah, you are. We can easily call the commission and tip them off that you took EPO. They can test for it and your ass is grass.”

  “And I can call your parole officer and tell him all the shit you’ve been doing.”

  Lawrence stepped forward again. His eyes were twitching with anger. He was big and mean and dangerous, but I moved closer to him as well. We were just a couple feet apart.

  “You want some of this.” He quickly produced a knife and held it between us.

  “You’re going to cut me? I asked incredulously. “Your ass will be right back in jail.”

  I prepared for him to swing his blade. I knew he’d killed before. He inched the blade forward toward my chin. I staggered my feet and raised my hands just above my waist, ready to fight for my life.

  The knife hung there for a long moment. I glanced from him to the point of the blade. He smirked and flicked his wrist. My hands shot up, but he closed it and it disappeared back into his pocket.