by Izzy Sweet
I can feel Christy shuddering in my arms and I notice that even Muffin is trembling.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I whisper as I run my hand up and down her side.
“It’s… I…. Fuck. I didn’t want you to have to…” She stops talking for a moment and I let her remain quiet.
I found out long ago that when you want someone to spill the beans sometimes you just have to keep your mouth shut.
Hugging her tight, she trembles and then it feels like the dam bursts.
All these weeks… the doubt and the worries over her secretive past come tumbling out of her.
Her stepbrother’s betrayal, her stepfather’s inability to care about anything beyond a drunken coma.
The night I found her in the gym. The day I picked her up at the gas station.
All these painful moments she has been keeping bottled up inside, she spills them out to me.
What kind of sick fuck tries to do what that bastard did? It’s no wonder she was trying to stay in that shitty hotel to get away from him.
I just hold her as she goes from gasping sobs to quiet sniffles.
I’m not completely aware of how long we’ve been sitting on the floor but I can tell from the way the light filters into the kitchen through the windows that it’s been a couple of hours.
I help her get the box of pictures from her childhood in order and then usher her into the living room.
Settling us on the couch, I get her to talk to me about her mother. She shows me pictures, shedding tears at times and laughing at others as she shows me her life before the day I walked into it. Her mom was a looker in her own right, and I can see where my little Viking Valkyrie got her good looks from.
How I’ve kept my cool and not allowed my inner monster to erupt is beyond my comprehension. I’ve never felt such cold rage, such unimaginable hatred for someone before. If I was back in Thailand, I’d make this little fucking bitch of a stepbrother disappear. I’m not back in Thailand, though, but I still want his fucking head.
I want it fucking mounted on my living room wall.
Christy’s light snoring snaps me out of my rage induced stillness. She must have fallen asleep, exhausted from the emotions wrenching through her body.
The girl I’m in love with is hurting so damn badly, and all I can do right now is hold her to me with all the strength I have. I was thinking about telling her of my feelings after I got home from the contract stuff, but now I can’t. I don’t want to push her any further, she’s been through enough today.
Fuck this boy—he sure as fuck isn’t a man.
He pushed my girl into a wall, kicked my dog, and kicked my car...
Any one of those things on their own would deserve a fucking beating… but all three? How the fuck am I not going to kill this little fuck?
I’m going to be a good boy for right now, and I’m going to bide my time.
But one way or another, I’m going hunt that little bitch down.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Christy
“What do you think?” Avery asks, leaning over my shoulder and holding a small mirror in front of my face.
“It looks great, thank you,” I say while admiring the two tight Dutch braids she did for me.
We opted for this hairstyle instead of cornrows, figuring my hair is long enough and straight enough to not come undone during the fight.
Avery’s smile reflects back at me before she pulls the mirror back.
“Wow,” Alex says, coming over to see Avery’s work. “Now you truly look like a beautiful Valkyrie ready to do battle.”
I smile up at him, the nervous pit in my stomach twisting into a knot.
This is it. In twenty minutes or so I’ll be stepping into the cage for my big shot.
“Nervous?” Alex asks, offering me a hand up.
“A little,” I admit as I place my hand in his.
He pulls me to my feet and takes a step back. His dark eyes roam admiringly over me from head to toe.
“It’s normal,” he says with a grin. “But don’t worry, you got this.”
I wish I had his confidence.
With a hand on her growing belly, Avery rises carefully from the bench. “Well, I think I’m going to go find my seat in the crowd. Break a leg, Christy,” she smiles at me. “Just not your own.”
I nod my head at her and manage to keep a smile plastered on my lips as she walks out the door.
As soon as she’s gone, though, I let the smile go and suck in a big breath.
Alex grabs me by the shoulders, turns me to face him, and gives my shoulders a squeeze. “You should start moving around. Loosen up. Let some of that nervous energy out and get your blood flowing.”
I tip my head back, staring up at his face. I still can’t believe after spilling my guts the other day, I didn’t lose him. He didn’t tell me to get lost or even get pissed I was hiding things.
I had to tell him everything. I told him about my mom and how losing her completely devastated me. Then I explained Herb and his downward spiral into the bottom of the bottle. I even explained Travis and how he started acting crazy right around the time I turned sixteen…
Amazingly, even after learning everything, Alex still wants me to stick around.
“Christy?” Alex asks with a confused grin when I don’t immediately follow his advice and start moving.
“Sorry,” I blink at him and feel my cheeks warm with heat. “You’re right. I should definitely get moving.”
He nods and gives my shoulders a squeeze before moving away. “Try bouncing up and down a little, then stretch your shoulders out.”
I do as he suggests and start to bounce on the toes of my feet while swinging my arms from side to side, left to right.
He walks me through some stretches then has me air boxing before the official walks in.
Everything is happening so quickly there’s very little time to stop and think.
The tape on my hands is checked before the official puts his mark on it. Then the official goes over the rules with me one more time, explaining the particulars of this exhibition match. No hair pulling, no biting, etc.
Originally, this was supposed to be just a small match hosted in a local arena, but due to all the hype that Brianna’s team has building up over the past month the venue was changed at the last minute.
Now we’re going on before the Night of Fights.
Just knowing that my first match is going to be broadcast on live television is about to make me puke. It’s not prime time or pay-per-view, there won’t be millions watching, but there will still be thousands tuning in before the big show officially starts.
My first fight broadcasted live on national TV…
What the hell did I get myself into?
“Breathe,” Alex reminds me, coming up to squeeze and massage my shoulders for me. “It’s almost time. Are you ready?”
My throat is so tight I don’t think I could speak if I wanted to so I just nod my head.
“Good,” Alex says, and gives my shoulders one last firm squeeze. “Let’s get ready to go.”
There’s a rap on the door frame and a voice calls out, “It’s show time.”
“Let’s do this.” Alex grins at me and gives me a slap on the butt before we step into the hallway.
My heart starts pounding a million miles a minute as we walk.
“You ready to do this, Barbie girl?” Dale asks, he and Chase joining us as we reach the end of the corridor.
I shoot him a dirty look and he laughs. “Thatta girl.”
Chase gives me a pat on the back and then we step out into the arena. “Head up, Christy! You’re the fucking star.”
The arena is only half full but there’s still a couple hundred or so eyes turning on me to watch me walk down the aisle.
Cheers go up, mostly for the guys flanking me, but it’s enough to start pumping me up with excitement.
Each step forward just pumps me up more and more.
Chase and Alex both start roaring
, lifting their arms into the air and working the crowd up. By the time we reach the skirt of the cage, those fans that are in attendance are cheering me on.
Grabbing me by the shoulders, Dale spins me around to face him. He pushes the mouthguard into my mouth and then gives me a drink of water.
“You’re going to fucking destroy her, you know that?” he asks, patting me on the cheeks.
I grin at him and nod my head.
“Good, that’s my Barbie girl.” With a grin he steps away, and the cutman comes up.
I’m getting Vaseline smeared over my brows and cheeks when I hear Brianna and her team step into the arena. Cheers go up for her as well, but a small, petty part of me is pleased that her cheers aren’t quite as loud.
The cutman steps back and gives my guys a nod. Alex comes up to me and guides me to the entrance of the cage.
“This is your fucking cage,” he growls. “Yours. You make her regret stepping into it.”
I nod at him and look up at his face. His eyes are narrowed, and he looks harsh, like he’s ready to do battle for me.
“You fucking knock her out or tap her out. Don’t let it go to the judges.” He gives me a little push and I step into the cage, alone.
I do a short lap around the inside of the cage, to keep my blood flowing, then stop in my corner, standing next to our ref.
Looking through the links of the cage, I watch Brianna get ready with her crew. She shoots me a look and her mouth turns up into a cocky smirk. I can see it in her eyes that she thinks that she’s got this in the bag. She thinks I’m going to be an easy fight.
She’s completely underestimating me and it’s pissing me off.
My entire life people have been underestimating me, treating me as if I’m weaker or not worthy just because of how I look. Well, fuck them and fuck her. Fuck all of them for judging me for what’s on the outside.
Once they see the shit I’ve been keeping bottled up on the inside, they’ll never again mistake me for just another pretty face.
Brianna stalks into the cage and then just stops, staring me down and cracking her neck. I take a step forward and the ref walks to the middle of the cage, getting between us.
“Alright,” he says. “I want a clean fight. You got it?”
He looks between us, only going on once we both nod our heads.
“You ready to fight?” he asks Brianna.
She raises her fists and nods her head.
My heart lurches and my stomach twists.
This it. Everything I’ve been training for. All the work I’ve put in over these past few weeks…
“You ready to fight?” he asks, looking to me.
I lift my fists and nod my head.
The ref chops his hand down. “Let’s fight!” he yells out and jumps back, out of the way.
Brianna and I both bounce forward and bump fists before jumping back.
Then we start the slow circle around the cage, jabbing half-heartedly and looking for weaknesses.
The crowd is loud, their excitement charging the air with energy. Our match may be little and of no importance to most of these guys, but there’s a definite lust for blood in the air tonight.
Suddenly Briana darts forward and jabs at my face. I lean back and nearly fall on my ass avoiding it.
She pushes her advantage, forcing me to go on the defensive.
Stalking forward, she throws another lightning fast jab. This time I can’t avoid it and her fist connects with my cheek.
I stumble back.
Vaguely, I’m aware that Alex, Dale and Chase are all roaring shit at me. But I just took my first real punch to the face and I’m a little dazed by it.
It’s not the pain that’s bad, no, I can take the pain any day. The problem is my senses are reacting to what just happened, and it’s fucking me up bad.
I’m a little off balance and my ears are ringing.
Brianna stalks forward and I just instinctively know what’s coming next. The bitch is trying to knock me out, and I know if I try to avoid the next punch I’ll be too slow again.
I can’t go back so I decide to drop my chin and charge on in. I take her by surprise, my shoulder pushing into her stomach.
The sound of her back hitting the floor of the cage hard thrums in my ears. On top of her, I hesitate for a split second and then start throwing punches at her face.
She brings her arms up, blocking me.
I keep throwing punches at her face. I focus too much on trying to get through her arms, though, giving her an opening to push up from the mat and roll us over.
Fuck, now I’m on my back. The last place I want to be.
She starts throwing punches at my face, and she’s so fast, her fists are so hard, it’s everything I can do to keep my arms up to block her.
Wrapping my legs around her waist, I tense up and try to roll her back over but she isn’t budging.
The buzzing of the crowd becomes a deafening roar. They sense my defeat is near… Even I can smell it in the air.
I can’t go out like this, I can’t. If I stay like this I’m going to lose like a little bitch.
Alex will be so disappointed in me.
I’ll be so disappointed in me.
Pushing my hips up, I try to buck her off me but she’s so damn solid she doesn’t move an inch.
There’s no hope for it, I can’t keep blocking her like this. She’s fucking up my arms with her heavy fists.
If I’m going to go out, I’m going to go out swinging.
Throwing my right hand out, I swing for her face but miss. Her own fist slides through the opening I left and connects.
Dazed, I lash out, trying to shove her arms away.
Making contact with her arm, I push it down and trap it between my legs before she can stop the momentum. Then I thrust my hips up again, hooking my leg over her shoulder.
I don’t even think too hard about it, I just fucking do it. Operating on pure muscle memory.
She tries to pull back but I yank her free arm to the side, using it to choke her by the neck. Then I bite down with my leg and sink the choke fully in.
She bucks on top of me, trying to escape, but I’ve got her trapped. Squeezing with my thighs, there’s no way I’m going to let her out of this.
I want this win too bad.
To me this everything…
Eventually, the fight goes out of her and she stills on top of me.
“She’s out,” the ref screams and I release, throwing my arms back, hands hitting the mat.
The ref checks on Brianna and I just lay flat on the floor, staring up at the bright lights, not even completely processing what just happened.
The fight doc rushes in, checks Brianna’s eyes and then helps her off of me.
Slowly I get to my knees, just waiting to see what happens.
Once she seems to be okay, nodding and answering the doctor’s questions, I reach over to Brianna and tell her, “Good fight.”
Our beef is over, no hard feelings. It is what it is.
“Good fight.” She nods at me and bumps my fist but I can tell she’s disappointed about what just happened.
I let her stand first and then the ref gets between us. Taking each of us by the hand, the announcement is made over the sound system about my win and then my arm is lifted in victory.
A rush of pure joy washes over me. I’m so happy I feel like crying.
I won, I fucking won. Five thousand dollars. Five freakin’ thousand dollars.
I’m free.
The cage is opened up and my guys rush in.
“Fuck, yeah!” Chase cheers and picks me up, bouncing me on his shoulder. I punch my fist into the air, looking out at the crowd and just soaking it in.
“Way to go, Barbie doll!” Dale grins up at me.
“You’re damn lucky I’m tired,” I tell him. “Or I’d kick your ass for saying that.”
He laughs but then steps to side. Alex steps up to Chase and gives him a look. Getting the hint, Chase low
ers me down, handing me off to Alex.
“Fuck, yeah, my beautiful fighter girl. I fucking love you!” Alex says fiercely. He grabs me by the face and stares into my eyes. “I knew you could do it, I knew it!”
Before I can say anything, he’s giving me a deep, soul crushing kiss.
“That’s enough, break it off, love birds. You’re starting to make everyone sick,” Dale butts in after a minute.
Alex pulls back and grins.
Before I have a chance to ask him about what he just said, the officials step into the cage, demanding my attention.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Christy
Well-wisher after well-wisher filters into my locker room backstage. Guys from the gym congratulating me on my win. Avery and some of the girls I’ve been training with. Reporters wanting interviews for their blogs. The medical team and officials.
At first, when I was still coming down from the adrenaline high of winning, it was flattering. Really, I’ve never had so much positive attention before, or so many people wanting to talk to me.
But now that over an hour has passed, it’s just become damn annoying. I’m ready for them all to go away. If it wouldn’t be rude as fuck, I’d tell them all to get the fuck out.
Alex said he loved me, and I need to know if he meant it without everyone hanging around.
Throughout all the interviews, all the well-wishes and congratulations, I can’t help but feel super aware of him.
No matter where he is in the room, I can just sense him.
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end when he’s behind me and my body tenses with anticipation.
Every time I get a chance to glance over at him, our eyes meet and a jolt of pure excitement shoots through me.
For the most part, with the others around, he keeps his hands off of me, and I feel like we’re just biding our time until we’re alone.
But dammit if I don’t still feel worked up.
It’s like all the aggression I had in the cage, all of that adrenaline that was pumping through my veins, has been transformed into a sexual need.
I just survived a battle and now my body wants to celebrate.
“Okay, let’s wrap it up,” Alex says to the fifth MMA blog guy to interview me.