Takedown (A Fighting Love novel Book 3)

by Nikki Ash

  Mason

  Twenty-four hours ago

  My phone rings and its Gavin. “Hey man, is everything okay?”

  “It’s Alec.” My heart squeezes when I hear his voice, reminding me how much I miss him and his mother. I’m at the gym, where I’ve been every waking moment—when I’m not doing promo shit—since my mom left with Tristan back to California after she finally agreed to let me help her, starting with getting her the hell out of Vegas.

  “Hey, Bruiser, is everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” he sighs. “I guess.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My mom is sad you’re gone. She said we couldn’t go with you because I have school. Can we go to the fight, though?” Of course she spared him from knowing what’s really going on because that’s the type of woman and mom she is.

  “I’m not sure. I’ll talk to Tristan and your mom and see if someone can bring you, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “How’s school?”

  “Oh! That’s why I’m calling. I wrote an essay for a contest, and I’m reading it in front of everyone. Can you come see me tomorrow at my school? Please! It will only be a minute. Then you can go back to practicing.” I chuckle at the mind of an eight year old. He has no idea I’m several hours away. He’s just a kid who wants me there.

  “That’s awesome. What time?”

  “Um…hold on.” I hear papers shuffling then his dad says something before Alec comes back on the phone. “Ten o’clock in the auditorium.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there.”

  “Yes! See you then. Bye!” Alec hangs up, and my phone rings again. This time it’s my mom and she’s Facetiming me.

  “Mom?” I say when I answer and her healing face pops up on the screen. We’ve spoken a few times this past week, but it’s been quick conversations to make sure she’s settling in.

  “Yes, I’m trying out this video chat. The phone arrived today. Thank you.” She smiles into the screen.

  “You’re welcome. How are you doing?”

  “I’m okay. Tristan and his wife have been so sweet, and Mila has…” She stops speaking for a moment and then says, “I mean…”

  “Mila has what?” I press.

  My mom looks guilty. “Um…”

  “Mom?”

  “I don’t think you were supposed to know. I know you guys are going through something, but she’s been here every day, bringing me food and coffee and hanging out with me. She even helped me find a therapist, someone I can talk to.” When I don’t say anything she continues, “I’m guessing you don’t know this either, but it was actually Mila who spoke to me in the hospital and convinced me to stop taking my guilt out on you.”

  “She did what?” I ask confused. “When?”

  “When I was in the hospital. She convinced me to stop taking my misplaced anger out on you and let you help me. I was so bent on not letting you take care of me because I did such a shitty job of taking care of you when you were little, but she reminded me that while I can’t change the past, I’m in charge of the future. Here you are asking me to let you help me, even after I was a horrible mom to you, and instead of pushing you away, I can let you in.”

  I look into the matching blue eyes of the woman who gave birth to me, the woman I prayed every day would simply love me—her words hitting me like a semi smashing straight into me at a hundred miles per hour.

  “You didn’t want my help because you were a bad mom?”

  My mom’s eyes turn down in what looks like shame. “It was my job as your parent to take care of you. A child isn’t supposed to take care of his mom. I hate what I put you through, that you saw all of those men come in and out of our home. I was so angry with your father. Angry he died. Angry he didn’t pay the life insurance policy and left us with nothing. I was heartbroken and sad, but none of that is an excuse for what I put you through.”

  I drop to the wall, my back resting against the mirrored wall in the gym. “I thought you hated me, that you thought I was a burden.”

  My mom shakes her head emphatically. “No, Mason! Never! I hated myself! I hated that I couldn’t give you food or clothes. I hated when you would hear me cry and ask what you could do to help when I was supposed to be protecting and loving and taking care of you. I failed, Mason.” Tears spring from her eyes. “I’m so sorry for failing you. I never wanted to touch a dime of your hard earned money. I watched you over the years. Every fight I could watch. Or I would go to the library to read about them. I’m so proud of you. I failed you and left you without any parents and you still succeeded.”

  My eyes sting as tears build up. All these years…I didn’t know how she really felt. “Mason, do you think maybe we could have another chance? I know you’re thirty and no longer a little boy, but could we see the therapist together? I don’t want you to take care of me. I just want my son back.”

  There’s a lump lodged in my throat preventing me from speaking, so I nod.

  “Oh, thank god. Thank you. I love you, Mason. I’ll see you when you get back from your fight.”

  I clear my throat. “I’m coming to California tomorrow.”

  “For Alec’s essay reading?” she questions.

  “You know about that?”

  “Yes, I told you Mila and I talk.”

  “Yeah, I’m coming in for the reading. Do you…want to have lunch with me afterward?”

  “I would love that.”

  We hang up, and I head over to the MGM Grand. I have a couple endorsements shoots I need to do for an energy drink as well as a clothing ad. Both are being shot at the MGM Grand: one in the arena and the other near the pool. I spend the next several hours with the photographers then book my flight to LAX. I arrive late at night and stay with Tristan and Charlie. She glares at me the entire time but doesn’t bring up Mila.

  I head over to Alec’s school and get there a few minutes after ten. I sit in the back and spot Mila and Gavin sitting together towards the front. The principal drones on about some shit, and finally after several kids read their essays, Alec is called up. He stands up on the stage, his tiny self barely reaching the microphone. Looking out into the crowd, I can tell when he finds his mom and dad, and then he finds me. His face brightens up, and I know I made the right decision by coming here.

  “My name is Alec Sterling, and I wrote my essay about three people: my mom, my dad, and my stepdad, Mason Street. I know I was supposed to pick one person, but I picked three.” He shrugs. “I want to be like my dad, my mom, and Mason when I get older. The first person I want to be like is my dad because he plays video games with me. He’s really nice and plays with me when I ask him to. And when I go with him, he always lets me get French fries instead of vegetables. He also lets me stay up past my bedtime when my mom doesn’t.” The parents chuckle.

  “I want to be like my mom because my mom is a really good mom. She read all of the Diary of a Wimpy Kid books to me when I was too little to read. She plays games with me and takes me to the beach. She takes me to MMA classes too. She’s also the best mom because she married the best fighter in the world. I want to be like Mason when I get older because he’s the strongest person in the whole world. He’s a fighter and he always wins. Except one time he lost.” The parents all chuckle softly but the boulder of emotion lodged in my throat prevents me from laughing. This is just an essay from an eight-year-old kid, and to some people it wouldn’t be a big deal, but to me, it’s fucking everything. He and his mother have become my everything.

  “I want to be like Mason because I want to be a fighter like him. He’s strong and fights hard. But he is also really nice. He helps other guys fight too and he helps me fight. When I go to the gym with him he is always nice. Even though when he fights he’s mean. And he’s nice to my mom. He makes her laugh a lot. The only bad thing about Mason is he makes me eat my vegetables but that’s because he has to eat healthy to fight. I want to be like my dad, my mom, and Mason when I get older. The end.”

  Everybody cla
ps and Alec sits back down. After the rest of the kids go, I consider leaving but I can’t do it. I can’t leave without telling Alec how good his essay was. Once everyone is done, the principal thanks everyone for coming and says there are drinks and food in the back and encourages the parents to stay and congratulate their children on a job well done.

  Alec jumps off the stage, and I hang back figuring I’ll speak to him once he’s spoken to his parents, but instead of stopping at them, he runs right past them to me. I can see the shocked look on Mila’s face when she’s learns I’m here.

  “Mason! You came!”

  “Of course, I did, Bruiser. You wrote a good essay.”

  “Thank you! Are you going back for the fight now?” Before I can answer, Mila and Gavin join us. Gavin shakes my hand and tells Alec he loved his essay. Mila doesn’t say a word to me, but goes straight for Alec and hugs him.

  “Your essay was amazing, sweetie. Hold it up so I can take a picture.” Alec holds up his essay and Mila takes a bunch of pictures using her phone. “Can we hang it up?”

  “I want Mason to have it for good luck.” He hands me his essay. “If I can’t go to the fight, now it’s like I’m there with my essay.” Damn this kid.

  “All right, well after the fight, we’re hanging it up. You better head back to class. I love you.” Mila hugs Alec again, and Gavin does the same. When he’s done hugging his dad, he throws his arms around me.

  “I love you. I really hope I can watch your fight,” he whispers. “Bye.” He runs up the walkway and out the door with the other kids and teachers, having no clue he just ran out the door with half my fucking heart—his mom holding the other half.

  “I better get going. Good luck at your fight this weekend.” Gavin clasps his hand on my shoulder and walks out the door.

  “I better go, too,” Mila says, not giving me a chance to say anything. I follow her out the door and watch her get in her car and drive away. The plan was to go have lunch with my mom and then head back to Vegas but the only place I want to be is wherever Mila is. I shoot a text to my mom to let her know I need to see Mila as I jump in my car and head to her house, hoping she’s gone straight home. When I pull up I see that her car is parked, so I know she’s inside.

  Not wanting to risk the chance of her not letting me in, I use my key to unlock the door instead of knocking and find her sitting at the kitchen table. She’s staring at some papers and tears are streaming down her face. She looks up startled and tries to swipe at the tears, but they keep coming. When I get closer, I see the papers she’s looking at: Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.

  My heart feels like it’s being squeezed by a barbwire fence as I read the words over and over again. “You’re filing for divorce.” It’s not a question because the papers are right there in front of her. She doesn’t say anything, though. Instead, she shakes her head as the tears fall faster than lightning down her face. Pulling her chair back, I pick her up and bring us over to the couch, settling her on my lap.

  “Baby, please don’t do this,” I beg her. Her tear-stained hair is stuck to her face and I brush it out of the way with my fingers so I can see her. Her cries get harder, her tiny body shaking with sobs. “I’m sorry, Mila. I just needed a few days. I won’t leave again. I promise.”

  She tries to calm down, her cries turning into hiccups, and once she’s calm enough to speak, she says, “I didn’t file for divorce. Those aren’t my papers. They’re yours.” What the fuck!

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I-I found the papers in your bottom drawer. I was doing the laundry and I saw the envelope. I was upset from you leaving and was being nosy. I opened it and found them.” The papers in my bottom drawer…shit!

  “Mila.” I frame her face with my hands. Her cheeks are pink and splotchy and her eyes are red and puffy from crying, but she’s still the most beautiful woman in the world. “The morning after we got married I sent an email to my attorney to draw up divorce papers. I told you I emailed him, remember?” She nods. “Later, I told him to hold off, but he must’ve sent them. I got some papers in the mail and threw them in my drawer to deal with later and completely forgot. I assumed they were for the UFC because my contract is due to renew. I swear to you, I didn’t plan to file for divorce. I love you, and the only thing I want to do is spend the rest of my life with you.”

  Forty

  Mila

  My heart calms down slightly at Mason’s words. When I found the papers, I freaked out. And then when he stayed away for the last week, my heart and mind started to work itself up into a frenzy until I was so sure my marriage was going to end in divorce. And the thought of us divorcing only validated every emotion I feel for this man. I’m completely and utterly in love with Mason Street. Call our marriage whatever you want but it’s real. So goddamned real. The day I filed for divorce I never once felt the pain the way the thought of Mason and I divorcing about crippled me. Even when I was broke and lonely and tired, I never once regretted my divorce.

  But the moment I thought I was going to lose Mason, I realized the difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. With Gavin, I loved him because I needed him. I was young and immature and lost and scared, and I needed him to face life’s craziness with me.

  With Mason, it’s different. I need him because I’m in love with him. Because I can’t imagine going a day without being with him. I don’t need him to face life with me. I want him to face life with me. I want him by my side. I crave his touch and his words. I crave his laughter and his heart.

  “I love you too, so much,” I say to him. “I know how we started wasn’t conventional but you mean everything to me and I never want to be without you.” My lips crash against his and his tongue finds mine, caressing and swirling with each other. We kiss for several minutes or maybe it’s hours. I don’t know. Like with everything between Mason and me, our kiss is all consuming. I get lost in it, and I don’t want to be found. Eventually, he picks me up and carries me to the bed, tossing me onto the mattress and trapping me in the circle of his strong arms. His lips meet mine once again and he kisses me passionately, affectionately, with such abandon that every emotion is conveyed without even a single word being spoken.

  We break our kiss just long enough to strip ourselves of our clothes, and once we’re both naked, skin to skin, Mason parts my legs and guides himself into me. My legs wrap around his waist like he’s my lifeline. “I love you, Mila,” he murmurs and then he kisses the shell of my ear. “I need you.” He kisses the sensitive flesh behind my ear. “All of you.” He trails kisses downward and across my chest. “You’re mine.” He kisses each of my nipples and then his mouth is back on mine. “And I’m yours, forever,” he says, his lips brushing mine before he deepens the kiss. Our bodies are flush against one another as Mason slowly makes love to me until we’re both panting and sweating and shaking from our orgasms.

  And when he stills and gives me one last soft kiss, I bring my hands to the sides of his face to hold him close to me, repeating the words he said to me. “ I love you. I need you. All of you. You’re mine and I’m yours, forever.”

  Forty-One

  Mila

  UFC Fight Night

  Mason had to go back to Las Vegas to get ready for his fight and I didn’t want to be without him. So, Gavin agreed to keep Alec for a couple nights and bring him over Friday after school for the weekend. When he got here, Mason made sure to include Alec in everything he did. From the press conferences to the weigh-ins, Alec was with Mason’s team every step of the way. Charlie, Bella, and I hung out by the pool with the kids for most of the day on Friday. Saturday—because Charlie doesn’t do UFC fights—she stayed at the hotel with the little girls while the rest of us went to the UFC fight.

  The arena momentarily goes black, and the music begins. The announcer announces it’s the main card event of the night. Mason is brought out first with Hate Me Now by Nas blaring through the arena, and then his opponent Jax Wilkens is called o
ut. The crowd is definitely favoring Mason but there is still plenty of love for Jax. Tristan’s parents, along with Bella, Marco, Gavin, Alec, and I, are sitting as close as you can get, screaming for Mason even though there’s no way he can hear us. Tristan is standing right outside the octagon in Mason’s corner.

  The rules are read and the referee gives them the option to touch gloves. Mason smirks and puts his hand out, but Jax walks away to his corner. The crowd boos, and Mason laughs. The fight begins and right away Mason opens with a few leg kicks. Jax tries to back up but Mason hits him with a brutal combination that connects right to Jax’s face causing him to stumble back and fall onto his butt. Mason smirks, and the crowd goes crazy. The women are screaming things I only pray my son doesn’t understand. The men yelling expletives I’m going to have to make sure Alec knows aren’t acceptable.

  Jax kicks his feet out and then stands, and Mason lifts his arms up in a come get it gesture, his cocky smirk never falling. There was a time when I thought that smirk meant he didn’t care. That was until I learned who the real Mason is. I learned that with every joke he tells and every time he smirks or laughs, looks can be deceiving. The man hiding behind the smirk, behind the false bravado, is a man who loves with everything he has and cares deeper than anyone I’ve ever met. Jax comes after Mason, throwing punch after punch, which Mason blocks. The blow horn indicates the end of the first round.

  The next round begins, and Mason gets Jax into a corner. He swings a left hook and knocks Jax onto the ground. Jax gets back up and comes after Mason. He’s throwing punches but they’re not connecting.

  “Come on, Mason,” Alec shouts. “End it now.”

  Mason couldn’t possibly have heard him, but it’s in that moment he goes after Jax. Punch after punch, he gets Jax into a corner. His elbow connects to the side of Jax’s temple, sending Jax stumbling backwards. He immediately bounces back and tries to bring Mason down, but Mason turns it around and takes Jax down to the ground. He throws punch after punch to Jax’s face until the referee forces him away and declares the fight over—announcing Mason, the defending champion.