by B. B. Hamel
But the time spent in the ring was the most brutal and intense moments imaginable. You were constantly fighting for your life, trying to defeat your opponent. That person across from you was as trained to fight as you were, and he wanted to beat you into unconsciousness or hurt you until you begged him to stop.
It was a bloody frenzy, a terrifying frenzy, and I loved it.
But because of that, I had to prepare myself. The weeks leading up to a fight were spent training my body, but also my mind. I would meditate on the fight, watch film of the guy I was going to be up against, prepare my strategy. I would plan and think and try to keep myself in the right frame of mind.
Since the Trent fight was coming up fast, I had to do all of my intensive preparations that much faster. I hated to rush everything, but I had no other choice. My only solace was knowing that Trent was rushing his preparations. More than that, he didn’t have any film of me fighting, while I had film of every one of Trent’s matches since I was last in the ring with him.
And he had gotten much, much stronger since then.
I remembered a relatively weak guy that was prone to fits of rage. He used to love to stand up and throw punches. But the guy Trent had turned into was much more lethal, much more controlled. He didn’t lose his temper a single time, and he picked his opponents apart with smart and well-timed attacks.
He’d gotten a lot better, but so had I. Back before I left for Thailand, I was known as a Judo fighter, a submission guy. I was good at getting my opponents onto the ground and getting them into submission holds, forcing them to give up before I broke their bones or choked them out.
In Thailand, though, I had gotten much stronger. Muay Thai fighting was all about throwing punches and kicks. Trent knew the sort of stuff I’d learned over there, but he had never actually watched me practice it. As far as he knew, I was still that same Judo guy he remembered.
That fact changed my game plan. That plus a hundred other factors went into my planning and made my head spin.
Which was why I didn’t even notice when Alexa walked down into the basement. I was too deep in my own head, envisioning the fight, going over my moves, as I finished my sit-up reps.
“Hey,” she said, yanking me out of my daze.
I looked up at her. She was sitting on the bench press machine, her legs crossed. She was leaning back on her hands, making her breasts jut out from her chest. I couldn’t help but look up and down at her body.
I hadn’t seen her much in the last two days. As far as I knew, it was Tuesday, but I wasn’t keeping good track.
“Are you busy?” she asked.
“Nah. Just finished.” I stood up and walked over to my bag, grabbing my towel.
“How’s it going?”
I shrugged. “About as good as it can.”
“What do you mean?”
“Fight’s on short notice, but I’ll be ready.”
“How long do you usually get?”
“Months, at least.”
“Wow.” She paused and sat forward, looking away. “Maybe this isn’t a good time.”
I could tell she had something she wanted to say, but clearly it was a little uncomfortable for her. I realized I’d probably been neglecting her and our little blackmail issue.
“Now is a good time.” I wiped the towel across my brow and leaned up against the wall across from her.
“It’s about Madison.”
“The assistant.”
She nodded. “I went and saw her.”
I raised an eyebrow, surprised. I had planned on dealing with that, but my workouts and preparation had gotten intense, and it had slipped my mind.
Still, I hadn’t expected her to go and talk to the girl herself. “What happened?”
“Well, your mom wanted to have lunch with me, so I used that as an excuse.”
“Cindy did?”
“Yeah. Something about wanting to be a family?”
I laughed, grinning at her. “We’re a pretty close family already.”
She blushed. “Yeah, well, she doesn’t need to know that.”
“So how did it go?”
“Lunch was fine, I guess.”
I smirked at her. “I mean with the assistant.”
“Oh.” She paused, her discomfort growing. I wanted her to spit it out, but I decided to let her take her time. I didn’t want to spook her or something.
“Well,” she said, speaking slowly, “I found out some pretty interesting stuff.”
“Do tell.”
“First of all, she’s not really our problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, she paid for the pictures and everything, but she’s not really the one blackmailing us.”
I let out an annoyed breath. This whole thing had been a long lesson in failure. We’d been so sure at least two other times that we’d had the culprit, and now I was finding out that we had hit another dead end?
“But I know who it is,” she said quickly, probably sensing my anger.
“You sure? Or is this just going to lead to ten more people?”
“No, really. It’s her boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend now, I guess.”
“Who is he, some dickhead that hates the tech industry or something?”
“I think you should sit down,” she said softly.
“Why? I don’t care about some liberal arts pussy. Just tell me his name and I’ll take care of him.”
“His name,” she said slowly, “is Trent.”
I blinked at her. “Okay. That’s a weird coincidence.”
“It’s not a coincidence, Cole. Well, it is, but not how you’re thinking.”
I stared at her for a second, a strange feeling wheeling around in my gut. “Spit it out, Alex.”
“Madison used to work PR for UFC, which I guess is the company that runs MMA fights.”
I nodded, confirming what she said. I thought the room might begin spinning.
“Well,” she said, “Madison met Trent while she was doing that job. Your Trent. Then she got the job as Cindy’s assistant, basically by accident, and lucked into those pictures.”
“You mean she didn’t pay for them?”
“No, she did, but she wasn’t coming after us. She was just looking for some pictures to sell to some tech blogs in the area.”
“Trent . . .” I said, trailing off.
“Trent was her boyfriend. He saw the pictures and knew what he had. Trent is the one blackmailing us, Cole.”
I stared at her for a second and then shook my head. “I don’t believe you.”
“I’m sorry, Cole, but it’s really him.”
I felt rage rush through me then, a rage I’d never experienced before. “That motherfucker,” I said. “He’s doing this just to distract me, to make this fight easier. That fucking piece of shit. That’s why he wants to rush in to it.”
“Cole, calm down,” Alexa said, standing up.
“That snake cunt,” I said, grabbing the end of the weight rack and tearing it to the ground. Weights smashed to the floor and went toppling.
Alexa backed up, her eyes wide. “Cole,” she said.
I couldn’t control myself. Every bit of my carefully built self-restraint was suddenly gone as I ripped off another rack of weights and pushed over a machine, my muscles flexing. Rage flowed through me freely, and I wanted to kill Trent, kill him with my bare hands. I wanted to tear his skull to bits and drink his blood.
It wasn’t that he had hurt me. I didn’t fucking care about that. Fighters did dirty shit all the time to try to get in their opponent’s head. I didn’t fucking care about that shit. Trent was a snake fuck, and he’d do whatever he had to do to win, including some dirty as fuck tricks.
But I was pissed that he had dragged Alexa into the whole thing. Alexa and her family had been nothing but kind to me since everything had started. Alexa was mine, my fucking wife, my fucking woman, and Trent had dared messed with that.
He had gone too far. He had stepped across a line, and I would
make him pay. I was going to find him and I was going to kill him. Fuck the fight. Fuck everything else. I was going to murder him.
“Cole,” Alexa said loudly. “Please, calm down.”
“I’m going to murder him,” I said. “Right now.”
I stormed upstairs. I could hear her following me, yelling my name, but I couldn’t understand a word she said. The only thing on my mind was finding Trent and ripping him to pieces. I would end it, end the blackmail, end the stress, end it all.
I grabbed the keys to my bike and my helmet and headed outside. I knew where I could find him, or at least someone who could help me. I’d dial up Ronnie soon, and together we’d smash Trent’s face in with steel pipes.
“Cole, please listen to me,” Alexa said.
I found where I had parked my bike and climbed on. Alexa grabbed my arms, looking into my eyes wildly.
“Cole, you’re scaring me,” she said.
That pulled me up short. I looked back at her seriously and saw the real fear in her eyes, the real terror. And I realized that despite everything that had happened, she had never once looked like that.
“Please, stop.” She was begging me.
“I have to kill him,” I said simply.
“Not like this. Don’t throw your life away on that asshole.”
I gripped my bike’s handlebars and ground my teeth. “He hurt you.”
“And you’re hurting me right now if you do this.”
That hit me like a blow to the chest, and my eyes widened. “I’m trying to fix this.”
“No,” she said harshly, “you’re being immature. You’re throwing a fucking tantrum.”
I bit my tongue and stared at her for a second. “What do you want me to do?” I asked finally.
“Come inside and talk to me. Don’t throw everything away on this guy.”
I felt the rage still inside me, but there was something else as well. It was the only thing that could stop me, that could pull me back from the brink. It was the only thing strong enough to save me when all I wanted was to be damned.
I couldn’t say the word, not yet. But it was there and it was her.
I slowly climbed off the bike. Alexa wrapped her arm through mine and held on to my bicep, and we walked back inside together.
I never wanted to see that look on her face again, not because of me at least. I couldn’t describe the anger I had felt, but I also couldn’t describe how badly it hurt me to know that she was afraid of me.
We walked up the stairs. I let her lead me into her bedroom, and we slowly climbed into bed together. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her tight against me, feeling her breath against my chest.
We didn’t say a word. I didn’t think we needed to. We just lay there, breathing together, feeling each other’s bodies. I wanted to reach down between her legs and feel the heat of her pussy, but something held me back. It wasn’t like I was shy or some shit; the moment just didn’t feel right.
Instead, we just stayed there together. It was the most intimate I had ever felt with a woman.
We must have fallen asleep, because I woke up later with a start. Alexa was still tangled up in my arms and breathing deeply. I slowly tried to pull myself away, but that only made her stir.
“Hey,” she said, groggy. “What time is it?”
I checked her clock. “Almost six.”
“Seriously? Wow. We slept for a while.”
I smiled as I slowly sat up, rubbing my eyes. “Yeah, we did.”
She propped herself up on one elbow, looking at me through her hair. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m good.”
I stood up and stretched.
“You’re not going to rush off and murder anyone?” she asked.
“Not right now, no.”
She nodded. “Good.”
I looked at her seriously. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay,” she said simply.
“I don’t know what happened.”
“I don’t blame you, really.”
“I just lost it.”
“Cole, it’s fine. Really.”
“Listen to me. You don’t have to ever be afraid of me.”
She looked surprised and nodded slowly. “I know that.”
“Good.”
We were quiet for a second. “So, what now?” she asked.
“I have to make a phone call.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but I was already out the door. I headed downstairs and into the basement. I cringed when I saw the mess I had made, and I promised that I’d clean it up as soon as I was finished.
I found my phone in my bag and pulled it out. It took me a minute to find Trent’s manager’s number. I hit dial and let it ring.
“Hello?” he answered.
“This is Cole Redson,” I said. “I want to talk to you and your client.”
He was silent for a second. “Okay, Cole. What’s up?”
“Add Trent to this call. Then I’ll tell you.”
“Okay,” he said awkwardly. “Sure. I can’t promise he’ll answer. Are you sure we can’t figure this out between us?”
“Call him.”
“Okay.” I heard some clicks and leaned up against the wall, waiting. The phone began to ring again.
“Still there?” he asked me.
“Yep.”
After four rings, I was ready to give up when Trent answered.
“Dave,” he said. “What do you want?”
I felt another wave of anger, but I took deep breaths and kept myself under control. It wouldn’t help if I lost my shit again, not right then. I needed to keep myself centered.
“Trent, I have Cole Redson on the line.”
“Hi, Trent,” I grunted.
There was a surprised silence. “Well, uh, this is unexpected. What do you want, Cole?”
“Cole called me and set this up. I actually don’t know what’s happening. What can we do for you, Cole?” Dave added.
I could hear the worry in the manager’s voice, which didn’t surprise me.
“This is about the blackmail,” I said.
There was silence from the other two guys.
“What blackmail?” the manager said finally.
“Trent, we know it’s you. Stop the shit,” I said.
For a second, Trent didn’t respond. Dave started to say something but was cut off when Trent finally started to laugh.
That pissed me off. I had to lower the phone and close my eyes, working hard not to rage hard again.
“—such a mistake,” Trent was saying as I brought the phone back to my ear.
“Maybe I shouldn’t be here for this,” his manager said.
“Stay,” I grunted. “Trent, we need to finish this now.”
“What the fuck are you thinking, Cole? This is embarrassing. What are you even talking about, blackmail?”
“I have a deal for you,” I said.
He was silent for a second. “I’m listening.”
“If I win the match, you destroy every copy of those pictures you have and forget about your blackmail shit.”
“Why would I do any of that? Assuming I know what you’re talking about,” he said.
“Because if you win our match, I will quit fighting forever.”
There was more silence on the line. “That’s interesting,” he said.
“You’ll have destroyed me. You win the match and I’m fucking finished. You have the pictures and my fucking career in the palm of your hand.”
“Trent—” Dave the manager said.
“How do I know you’ll follow through?” Trent said, cutting him off.
“Dave is our witness. He’ll draw up contracts, do whatever legal shit he needs to do to make it real.” I paused for a second. “But I give you my word as a man that I’ll follow through.”
Trent was quiet for a second.
“I don’t think this is legal, like, at all,” Dave said.
“Shut up, Dave,” Trent said
. “You serious about this, Cole?”
“Serious.”
“Okay,” he said finally. “Let’s do it.”
“Guys,” Dave the manager said, “I really don’t think I can be a part of this.”
“Dave, if you don’t fucking draw up some contracts to make this thing real, then I swear I will tell your wife about those strippers you fucked in Canada last year.”
Dave sputtered something noncommittal and surprised, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Dave?” Trent asked. “Your marriage or the contracts.”
“Fine,” Dave said.
“Classic move, Trent,” I said. “Blackmail seems to be your thing.”
“See you in the ring, shithead.”
There was a click.
“He hung up,” Dave said.
“I know. Email me the papers. I’ll send you the signed copies.” I paused. “You should consider dropping him as a client.”
I hung up and crossed my arms, leaning my head against the wall.
That was it. I was putting everything on the line for this fight. My relationships and my career hung in the balance. If I won, the blackmail was over, and I could have Alexa however I wanted her.
But if I lost, well, everything was finished. I wasn’t going to lose. I couldn’t lose. It just wasn’t in my fucking nature.
I tossed my phone back into my bag and began to clean up the basement, feeling lighter and happier than I had in a long time.
17
Alexa
I couldn’t believe what Cole was willing to risk.
I had watched as Cole stormed out of my room, not sure what he was doing, but I knew he needed space. I was leaning against my headboard, flipping through Facebook, when he walked back into the room.
“It’s done,” he said, sitting down at my desk.
“What is?”
“Everything. The fight in a few days is going to fix everything.”
I put my phone down, raising an eyebrow. “What did you just do, Cole?”
His grin was huge and cocky. “Just had a little chat with Trent and his business manager.”
“No. Cole, what did you do?” I felt panic rising up inside me.
“Relax,” he said. “It’s all good. I didn’t threaten to murder him or anything like that.”
“Okay, that’s a start. What happened?”