I wished I could say that the next couple weeks were easy going, but really I was working my ass off training for my fight. I buckled down on my diet and workouts. Any free time I had was spent screwing Arson’s brains out, sleeping, and more screwing Arson.
Cammy also kidnapped me a few times to get me away from training. She had to make sure I still had nice feet and hands; I would be one of the best fighters with amazing, shiny hair.
I worked hard and was feeling pretty good. Arson helped me train every day and sometimes at night he would help me work on my moves. His venture into opening his dojo was going pretty smoothly as well.
The press was buzzing about it so he was getting some hype from all of the social media platforms. He found a place and started the paperwork on buying it. He was constantly looking up mats and equipment he needed to buy, thinking of what all he was going to do. It was sweet to see him going for his dream.
One real monkey wrench that popped up was Julianne. That bitch just didn’t want to let Arson go. She would text him frequently, trying to have him over for dinner. He simply declined and went on with whatever he was doing. I wished she would just leave him alone. Couldn’t she see it was over?
It was only two days before my big fight and I was nervous as hell. I knew this roller coaster ride well but it still sucked to be on. I was sitting on the balcony of the hotel room overlooking Los Angeles; Arson was asleep in my bed and I was out there alone. Midnight had long passed and I just couldn’t sleep.
My hand drifted to my knee. Would it hold? I had iced it after every strenuous workout lately. I massaged it and even Arson worked on it a couple of times. He gave me a couple Thai massages and they were fantastic. I was still a mixed bag of emotions. I was happy, I was angry, I was scared.
Happy because I had worked so hard for this, angry because of what Tasha had done in the first place. I shouldn’t have even needed to go through all of this.
Scared, that one was the worst. I was usually a confident person, but I was feeling pretty low. What if I failed and she beat me? She would win. She’d had all this time to keep on fighting while I’d been bedridden for a few months and missed time. I didn’t even know what I would do if she won. Keep fighting because I loved it? I couldn’t come up with anything else. I would be sad, and down. It would suck majorly to have put in all this hard work to not succeed.
“She won’t beat you.” Arson’s voice startled me. I looked at him in the moonlight. His dark hair was all over the place, that signature look I loved. He had let it grow a tiny bit longer since retiring and it was definitely hot. He was shirtless, standing there in only pajama pants, and his green eyes held understanding.
“What if she does?” I turned my head and whispered. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him move until he bent down on one knee in front of me.
“She won’t. She doesn’t even stand a chance. You’ve worked too hard and have put too much into this to let some vindictive chick stand in your way.” He was serious, but I still wasn’t feeling it. I stayed silent.
“I know what you’re going through. I have faith in you, but I do know this is shit you’ve gotta let run through your head. You’ll come out of it because that’s the girl I love. Don’t let it get you down.” He kissed my forehead and went back inside. Stupid considerate jerk.
I loved and hated what I was going through. I kinda wanted to fight, yell a little, but he just shut me down. Him knowing me so well was sometimes a downfall when I wanted to blow up. He just knew what I needed and gave it to me.
I sat there until the morning grumbling about how stupidly awesome he was when I decided to go for a run. I pounded the pavement with everything I had. I let my mind empty with each inch of distance crossed. My legs burned and my breath was labored. I had made it eight miles around the city; it was a little overboard, but I needed it. I felt like I had sweat out some of my fears.
I walked through the hotel lobby with sweat dripping down my face.
“Ms. Jackson. You have a delivery,” said the man at the front desk. I wiped my eyebrows off with my shirt—which was covered in sweat as well—and walked over to him.
“Delivery?” I hadn’t ordered anything.
“Yes mam, it was dropped off last night. I was just about to bring it up to your door but caught you here instead. Here.” He handed me an envelope with Ms. Jackson elegantly written on the top. Not caring who was around, I opened the envelope with unease settling in my stomach. My fingers pulled out a small note with golden trim for borders.
Leave Arson before things get complicated.
J.
My hands gripped the paper so hard I thought I was going to rip it. Julianne was such a bitch. Leave Arson. Yeah right, like I would do that. Nope, he was mine, and she just needed to suck it. I leaned over the front desk and grabbed a pen.
Go Fuck Yourself.
-R
A little immature? You bet your ass it was. I was tired of her and I wanted to end her tiresome efforts to get Arson back. Feeling all sorts of hyped up, I put the note back in the envelope and wrote return to sender on the front.
“Here, send this back to the sender please.” I handed the envelope to him and walked toward the elevator. Being pissed about Julianne was just what I needed to finish my little pity party for myself. I was going to beat Tasha, fuck my boyfriend, then knock Julianne’s teeth out the next time she tried to talk to Arson.
I opened and slammed the door to our room shut. Arson was standing in the kitchen area making eggs.
“I don’t want you talking to Julianne anymore. She’s a horrible person. I hate what she did to you, and now the bitch is threatening me with notes to leave you ‘before things get complicated’. She needs to go. She has no part in your future Arson.” I was angry, and I smelled. I needed a shower. I left after I got that out and went to clean off.
My clothes got stuck a little from being sweaty, which annoyed me further. Once I had everything off, I hopped into the spray of water and took some deep breaths to calm myself. Arson gave me time, but I knew after what I’d said it wouldn’t be long. I felt his presence as he entered the shower.
“She threatened you?” His voice was hard; he was angry. Good. Maybe he would tell her off.
“Yep.” I turned around to face him.
“She won’t be a problem anymore. I won’t talk to her or let her in my life at all. You’re my future Rayne, not her.” His eyes held a promise: we were in this together. I took the step to close the distance between us and he opened his arms for me. I hugged him tightly.
“I’m sorry, I’ve been a mess.” I kissed his chest and went back to hugging him.
“Been there Princess.” His hold tightened then let go. He did understand. He was the perfect soulmate for me. He got me, plain and simple. I nuzzled his chest like a happy kitty.
Soon my nuzzling turned to kisses, kisses turned to hands groping, and groping turned to passion. Then finally when Arson slid into me against the shower wall, all was right again in my life. Together we fought the evil that sought to destroy us. We had found peace in each other and nothing was going to change that.
Once we were dried, I dressed in my MMA approved shorts and sports bra. I had to weigh in for the fight. I wasn’t worried about it; at a hundred thirty-four pounds, I was perfect for the women’s bantamweight class. I was a little anxious about seeing Tasha for the first time in person, but I would be cool as a cucumber. I had to hold my composure, show her I was ready for this and would be a fierce opponent.
I put on some wind pants over my shorts and a shirt with my name on it over my sports bra. My hair was loose and free.
Arson was dressed in some sports pants and a tight shirt. He had become one of my assistant coaches, and honestly I needed him there for me. I needed his strength and love.
Together we headed out to the arena where we would fight for the weigh-in. Arson and I were both quiet in the cab on the way. He just held my hand, letting me know he was there while I looked out
the window.
Chapter Twenty Four
Fight!
We walked into the room together and it was a bit of an uproar. The weigh-ins were recorded for added hype so there were a bunch of people with cameras there. As we walked toward the front of the room, I finally saw her.
Tasha Talon was standing next to her coach and two other men, talking and waiting. She looked good. She was maybe an inch or two shorter than me. Her blonde hair was cut short, which in my opinion made her jaw look a little wide, but not my head, not my problem.
She turned to see me and her eyebrow raised like she hadn’t really expected me to show. As if, bitch. Her brown eyes were staring me down, assessing every part of me as I walked toward her.
The announcer did his stuff and we each stepped up to the scale and weighed in. Both were good. We stood in front of each other with our fists raised, officially opponents.
“Looking good Rayne. How’s the leg?” First dig at the leg, I’d known it would come.
“Better than ever Tasha, thanks for caring.” I smiled. I wouldn’t let her get to me. Cool as a cucumber.
“Good, maybe you’ll be a better opponent than before. Hope your boy toy gave you some pointers. I bet he knows how to handle a woman.” She winked at Arson and I about lost it. Thankfully, I just took a breath and remained silent. I had to just get off the Tasha train. She wanted to banter.
“See you in the cage,” I told her and walked back to Arson. He didn’t open his arms and I was thankful. This was my fight and I was a warrior. I couldn’t run into my man’s arms when another woman upset me. I had to stand strong. He was there for support, but he wouldn’t let me rely on him.
The announcer said some other words and I spared one last look to Tasha; she was ready for this fight too. She was looking at me with a hard look on her face that promised pain. I wasn’t really sure what she had against me, but this time things were going to be different.
“You’ve got this,” Arson whispered in my ear, and then we were free to go. We went and had dinner with Coach, two of my athletic trainers, and a few other people from the gym that had come out to see my fight.
My whole team was there. Mom and Cammy were flying in the next day morning. I was glad to have such a good support system. After our fun time at dinner, Arson and I went back to the hotel where we stretched out on the bed, talked, watched TV, and finally fell asleep. Cuddled in his arms, I was relaxed and rested deeply.
The next day we explored Los Angeles with Cammy and my mom. It was fun, but also weird at times. Mom and Cammy had no shame and were bugging us about when we were getting married and supplying them with grandchildren/nieces.
It made me blush a few times, but Arson was just smiling and taking it all with a grain of salt—at least that’s what I thought until he leaned into me and whispered against my ear,
“The thought of you growing our baby inside you sounds fucking amazing Princess.” My breathing stopped. He continued.
“Not now of course, but when you give me the go ahead I’m going to be relentless in my pursuit to make you with child.” Caveman. YOU, MY WOMAN, MUST MAKE BABIES. I shook my head as he kissed my cheek and walked toward the women, maybe to rein them in a little. Babies—I was just getting back into fighting; that was not in my plans for a while, but for just a moment, I let myself imagine it: Arson with his dojo, training kids, me helping run it while handling a baby on my hip.
Sweet chubby cheeks and inky black hair and green eyes like her parents. A little hell raiser. I smiled thinking about it, but decided to push the thoughts from my head for now. It wasn’t my time yet. My campaign of making it to the top of the UFC had just begun.
We played some more in the City of Angels before settling in for the night. I slept as best I could, but was still up early. It was the day I had been waiting for since the day I’d been carried out of the cage.
I woke up the morning of my fight pumped and ready. I kissed Arson, who rolled out of bed with me so we could do some morning yoga and stretch me out. I went for a quick run in the hotel gym then showered by myself while Arson made us breakfast: hash browns, eggs, and fruit. I needed everything that day: carbs, protein, and sugar. I was feeling both mentally and physically awesome.
The fight wasn’t until that night, but I knew time would fly quickly—and it did. I was dressed in my shorts and sports bra again sitting in the locker room. Coach was talking to the trainers, getting ice bags ready and water bottles filled. It had the feeling of preparing for war and I had to remain calm. Arson said he had to go run an errand but would see me before the fight, so there I was, sitting and listening to some music.
My head bobbed to the beat of “The Fighter” by Gym Class Heroes; it was a song I listened to a lot while training. The words made me feel inspired and that I could do anything I fought for. My eyes closed and I willed myself to focus on nothing but the light movement of moving to the music. My body warmed and alerted me to Arson being near.
I was so tuned to him, I felt like I had some special power where I could find him like a German Shepherd if I needed to. Weird theory. I opened my eyes to see him standing in the doorway to the room. I smiled, thinking back to not too long ago when we were in opposite positions: him the one about to fight, me the waiting lover in the doorway. With my gloved hands, I pulled off my headphones and walked over to him.
“No shirt with my name on the back? Slacking Kade. You are a slacker,” I teased while leaning up for a kiss. He smirked but kissed me back. We were so wrapped up in each other’s kiss I didn’t notice Coach and the team were done talking and were now standing behind me.
“All right kid, finish up. We’ve got a big fight here, remember. You’re up next. Wrap it up,” Coach demanded nicely. I pulled back and looked at the love of my life.
“I love you.”
“You’re my world. I love you Rayne Jackson. You’re going to beat her. You’ve got this, okay?” I nodded; I did have this. He gave me another kiss and turned to go to his seat. He wasn’t allowed to be with my team at the cage but he was still going to be close, front seat and center. I would still be able to hear him if he yelled out to me, which I was sure would happen.
Coach made me repeat his mantra over and over: keep your head straight, eyes open, fists up. A little woman with a headset peeked her head in the locker room.
“You’re up. Music is ready to go.” I nodded and looked at Coach.
“Let’s do this.” He slapped me on the back and agreed. It was time to bring the pain.
As my team and I walked down through the crowd, I held my face in determination. I was fierce and I would not go down.
The examiner before the cage did his inspection of me, checked my gloves, and put petroleum jelly around my eyes and nose. Coach held out my mouth guard and placed it in, and that was checked as well.
I smiled big with my purple guard, beaming. The announcer was giving the run down about my credentials, height, and weight as I entered the cage and went to the blue side. He screamed my name and I pumped my fists in the air while bouncing on my feet.
The crowd roared and I felt their excitement. This was where I was meant to be. I bounced and randomly stretched as the music started and Tasha made her descent to the cage. I watched as she practically ran to the ring. Her hoard of people behind her looked like an army with her as their general.
She stood while the examiner checked her over and the announcer did his thing. I wasn’t paying him any mind. Tasha was entering the ring and my focus was all on her. From that moment on I had one objective: beat Tasha. Everything was riding on this. She looked at me and that was it. We were both ready.
It wasn’t a championship match so we would have three rounds at five minutes each.
We met in the middle of the cage and the ref went over the rules. He said to touch gloves and I held mine out. I wasn’t that big of a bitch, but apparently she was. She did not touch gloves and I heard the oohs of the arena. Oh well. We went back to our sides and wai
ted for the go ahead to start.
In that moment time slowed. I was aware of everything. The cheers from the crowd fueling the hyped energy in the air. The anticipation from the team behind me, waiting to throw out their advice as I needed it. The intense stare from the man sitting in the front row who held my heart. He was there with me in the ring, fighting with me. I carried his passion with me everywhere. I was strong. I was fierce. I was a fighter.
“Fight!”
Tasha was aggressive. She wanted me and she came quickly. Her leg came out in a kick and I moved out of the way. She tried again and I moved just as easily, taking a swipe at her myself. I missed, but we continued our dance. I saw an opening when she jabbed at me and took my shot.
I nailed her in the jaw and gripped her around her head, trying to lock her in while punching her in the face with my other fist. She broke free and landed an elbow to my face. I tasted a little blood in my mouth and repositioned my hands in front of my face.
Coach was shouting at me to be on the offense, get in there. I did as he said and jabbed her in a combo move quickly. She blocked one set but I hit her with another. Trying to get her while she was getting set back up in her defensive position, I attempted to throw her to the ground. I had her when she punched me hard in side and rolled out of my throw. I fell, but was back on my feet in seconds. No reason to make this easy on her.
She came at me again, and this time we traded missed jabs around the cage. I tried to kick high but she caught my foot and her fist met my cheekbone. My foot was free but I was pushed up against the fence of the cage.
Our arms were locked around each other’s heads and shoulders, both of us trying not to let the other gain the advantage. I felt her trying to wrap her ankle around my leg and I was hit with the feeling of déjà vu. I remembered the snap of my leg and the pain shooting through my body. I made a mistake.
She had done that on purpose to find my weakness, and she had found one. I was still traumatized by what had happened the last time I was in there.
The Final KO Page 15