The Naughty List

by Caisey Quinn

  And I fucked it up. Like I always do. But she forgave me.

  Not in the “I forgive you, but I’m going to hold this shit over your head for years,” kind of way. She truly forgave the biggest mistake I ever made.

  I hurt her. The one person I never wanted to hurt because I need her.

  I fucking love her.

  Therein lies the truth I’ve tried to avoid admitting for two solid years.

  In all my adult life, I’ve made damn sure never to need anyone. But I need her.

  Whatever else I do in this life, I will do with her.

  The door opens and my head snaps upward.

  Some tiny sliver of hope that she’s actually here escapes the cracks in my heart. But it’s not her.

  It’s Addison.

  I try not to let my disappointment show. I fail.

  She frowns at me. “Well, Mikey’s pissed that you made a ‘female Rossi’s only’ entry rule.”

  “Sorry. I’m not taking any hits to the face until that bell rings.”

  A hint of a smile curves her lips. She pulls her blond mass of curls to one side and folds her arms. “Well you owe him one. He’s using his cruiser to go get her. Lights, sirens and the whole bit. Which he never does for anyone.”

  “Seriously?”

  The weight on my shoulders begins to lift, just a little, but it’s something.

  She nods. “Yeah. We agree with you. She should be here. She wants to be here. She’s just…”

  “Stubborn as fuck?”

  “Yeah, that. And worried about you. She’s scared, Jonah. How could she not be? This is insanity.”

  “I know.” I let my head hang.

  “I mean, you have to fight a motherfucking former champion, really? On one week of half-ass training?”

  I sigh heavily. “There was nothing half-ass about it, trust me. But yeah, I realize it’s not the brightest idea ever.”

  “Ya think?”

  Hollis was right. Addison does not mince words or sugar coat shit.

  “I’m not coming back to this. No matter what the media says. It’s a one-time thing. It was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up because it benefits the people I care about.”

  Addison sits down beside me. “I get that. And Hollis does too. It’s an honorable thing you’re doing. It’s just happens to be crazy as hell.”

  “Story of my life.”

  “Look, I know you probably think this is the scariest thing you’re going to do tonight, but it’s not.”

  I cock an eyebrow at her. “Oh yeah?”

  She narrows her eyes on mine. “You tell her how you feel tonight, Jonah. Enough is enough. Every time I turn around she’s bending over backwards to please you, to help you, to meet your needs for whatever reason. We both know she’s more than the damn dog walker. So man up. Go out there and kick some ass—or get your ass kicked, whichever—and then tell Hollis the truth. It’s time.”

  I rub my hands on my bare knees. “I know. She deserves the truth. But I can’t help thinking she deserves so much better than me, you know?”

  “Like who?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know specifically. Just someone more…conventional. Someone who has a family to introduce her to. Someone who plays charades at Christmas and has family dinners on Sunday. Shit like that.”

  Addison scoffs at my admission. “She already has plenty of shit like that. What she wants is you.”

  Before I can argue, Addison puts her hand up.

  “You know anyone who could protect her better than you? Another former professional fighter who might keep her safer on the mean streets of Boston?”

  I shrug.

  She gives me a pointed stare. “Do you have erectile dysfunction, Jonah? Is there someone who could, you know, take care of her physical needs better than you?”

  “Fuck no.”

  “Then stop whatever self-deprecating bullshit you got going on here. So you’re a foster kid with a past. So is practically half the damn city. Hollis doesn’t care about that. She cares about you.”

  “I don’t even have a last name to give her, Addison.”

  She breaths heavily “Pick one then. Did you know pretty much anyone can change their name to whatever they want?” Before I respond, her eyes widen. “Wait a minute. Back the truck up. Why does that even matter? Are you wanting to give Hollis your last name? Because I thought we were talking about dating here.”

  I tilt my head to one side. “You know her. You think anyone could date Hollis and not want to put their name on it?”

  She laughs lightly. “Aww, Jonah. You love her so much you want to get the government involved.”

  I contemplate this. I want her to be mine, I want everyone to know she’s mine, and I never want another man to touch what’s mine.

  So yeah. I’ll probably have to get the government involved. Get some official paperwork and all.

  We sit in silence until Addison’s phone dings. She glances down at the screen, then up at me.

  “She’s here, Jonah. Mikey has his badge and the VIP passes you sent us. They’re on their way back here now.”

  My heart freezes and stutters in my chest as if it forgot how to function properly.

  I nod. “I need to talk to her. Alone.”

  Addison stands and touches my shoulder gently. “Okay, oh, uh you’re covered in slime.”

  I laugh. “It’s petroleum jelly. Keeps my skin from splitting open every time he lands a punch.”

  She wipes her hand on a nearby towel. “Well, gross. And also, good luck, Jonah.”

  “With Hollis or with the fight?”

  She tosses me a hopeful smile as she opens the door to leave. “Both. You’ll need it.”

  22

  HOLLIS

  DREAMING OF A WHITE CHRISTMAS

  I’ve never seen anything like the crowd at The Garden tonight. Mikey and a few other security guys rush me through a back entrance and toward a dimly lit hallway. Feels like we’re underground.

  “He says he’s not doing this without you,” Mikey tells me after reading Addi’s latest text message. “And I’ve got money on the fight, so, uh, if you could talk him into going through with it, that would be great.”

  I shake my head at my brother. “Nice.”

  “Hey, my money is on him at least. I could’ve bet against him.”

  “Why didn’t you? The odds aren’t exactly in his favor.”

  We reach a door with two more security guys blocking it. “Because that would’ve been like betting against you, little sister. And we both know I’d never do that.”

  “Thanks, Mikey. For coming to get me.”

  “You’re welcome. Our seats are on the front row. Come sit with me and Addi when you’re done in there.”

  Addi walks toward us from the other end of the hallway.

  “There you are.”

  I nod. “So it would seem.”

  She offers me a sympathetic smile. “He says he’s not doing this without you. So if you really don’t want him to, all you have to do is say the word.”

  “Okay,” I say weakly, pulling all the oxygen I can manage into my lungs before opening the door.

  I don’t have the first clue what I’m going to say to Jonah. Since the minute Mikey appeared at the group home, practically dragging me outside, talking about how I had to come to The Garden, everything has been a blur.

  Blood rushes in my ears as I step into the darkened room.

  “Jonah?” I call into the darkness after the door closes behind me.

  “Over here.”

  Jonah is lying back on an angled table that looks like something from a doctor’s office.

  I walk slowly over to him. In his tight fighting briefs, I can see every sinew, every muscle, every vein in his perfect body.

  He seems broader and more defined than when he left. My mind can’t process how so much can change in one week. It makes me nervous about what else has changed.

  He breathes deeply before opening his eyes. “Y
ou’re in your pajamas.”

  “I was at a pajama party. Kind of a prerequisite.” My black and red flannel buffalo plaid PJs are not exactly what I’d hoped to have on to greet Jonah when he returned. But here we are.

  “The kids doing okay?”

  My breathing slows closer to normal. “Yeah. They’re great. I brought Zeus and Achilles for the little ones to play with. Miss Nancy is letting the older ones watch the fight.”

  “Really?” Surprise colors what I can see of his face.

  “She didn’t plan on it. She ordered it so she and I could watch. But some of the older boys had a phone and were already sneaking and watching anyways. She figures this way at least she can cut it off if it gets too bad.”

  “Meaning if I get beat to a bloody pulp.”

  I shrug, turning my head so he can’t see how hard I’m trying not to let that mental image assault my mind.

  “You weren’t coming to watch?”

  I swallow thickly. “I don’t know if I can watch, Jonah. I couldn’t finish watching this Stryker guy pound on a stranger on the Internet. Seeing him do that to you…live and in person…” A sob threatens to escape my throat but I swallow it down.

  “Hollis,” he begins, sitting up and turning toward me. “We need to talk.”

  My body trembles at the sound of my name falling solidly from his lips. “You picked a heck of a time for a chat.”

  He reaches out, taking my hands in his. “It’s more than a chat. I have to tell you something. Something important.”

  I wait, holding my breath. “So tell me.”

  “There is nothing in my life—not the WDA, not the UFC, not all the charitable donations in the world, not even Zeus and Ache—more important than you.”

  Even I hear my own sharp intake of breath.

  “If you don’t want me to do this, then I will call it off here and now and face the consequences.”

  “Because of what happened with Sarah and your child all those years ago?” My eyes drift to the tattoo on his inner forearm. Numbers symbolizing a day he’ll never be able to repair.

  He shakes his head. “Because of you. Because I won’t do anything in this life where a possible side effect is losing you.”

  He palms the side of my face and my eyes fall closed as I savor his touch. I’ve missed it even more than I realized.

  “Do you want me to call this off?”

  I open my eyes and look into his. “Do you want to call it off?”

  He shakes his head. “No. I don’t. But that’s not the point. I should’ve talked to you. I should’ve been honest about my feelings. The truth is, I was fucking terrified. Training and agreeing to take this fight was a cake walk compared to staying and dealing with what was happening between us. So I bailed. And I will regret that every day for the rest of my life.”

  My mind struggles to process his words. “So, wait. You’re more scared of me than of that huge guy out there that wants to beat your beautiful face in?”

  The right side of his mouth lifts. “I’m more scared of you, and of losing you, than anything in this entire world.”

  “Why?” My voice comes out a whisper but he hears me.

  He places his forehead against mine. “Because I have never needed anyone the way I need you. Because I’ve never fallen asleep thinking about someone and woke up thinking about her and had thoughts in the middle of the day I couldn’t wait to tell her. Everything is better with you. Everything has been better since you.”

  I can’t contain the grin spreading across my face. “I need you too, Jonah.” He takes my chin in his hand and part of me needs his kiss like I need oxygen.

  “You are what’s good in my life, Hollis. You’re what’s good in me.”

  His eyes are soft when he leans in to place his lips on mine. But I hold a finger up between us, effectively blocking him.

  “It’s not midnight yet.”

  He blanches visibly at the rejection and I feel bad. “Say what now?”

  “It’s New Year’s Eve.” I give him a mischievous grin. “I want my kiss at midnight, Jonah. I want you to go out there, fight for us, for the kids at the home, and kick that guy’s ass. Then I want you, bruised, bleeding, sweaty, whatever, to kiss me at midnight.”

  He huffs out a loud breath. “You’re really going to make me wait?”

  I nod. “I need insurance. You need motivation to not take too many hits to the face. Kiss me at midnight and I will come home with you tonight and kiss all your boo-boos. All night long. Win or lose.”

  He doesn’t hesitate this time.

  “Deal.”

  “I think I’m going to throw up,” I tell Addi and my brother once I make it to my seat.

  Inside I’m still a swirling cyclone of messy emotions. Mikey raced us here through crazy traffic, then Jonah poured his heart out, now he’s in the cage in front of me about to brawl with a guy nearly twice his size.

  “Please don’t,” Addi says. “This is a televised event and everyone we know is watching.”

  Tony and Dad are watching with most of the neighborhood at the bar. Mom says she’s not watching at home, but we all know she is.

  Jonah glances at me from his corner of the octagon and grins. At least, I think he grins. It’s hard to tell with the mouthpiece he has in.

  “Midnight,” I mouth at him, pointing dramatically to my watch.

  His eyes gleam under the lights.

  “So the talk went well then?” Addi comments.

  I nod, keeping my eyes on Jonah.

  “But have you completed the list yet?”

  “Uh, we’re getting there.” I jerk my chin toward my brother. “Mikey broke the law several times on the way here.”

  “Don’t forget number six,” Addi sing-songs.

  Number six.

  Don’t fall in love. Sit on his face.

  Well, half that one is probable in the near future. But it’s far too late not to fall in love with Jonah. I’ve been some version of in love with him for two years now.

  Complex, selfless, damaged man that he is, he’s mine. All mine. And I can’t wait to get him home where he’s safe and I no longer have to share him with the world. Or anyone who wants to punch him in his gorgeous face.

  The announcer’s voice is loud on the overhead sound system, but I feel like my head is underwater.

  I watch Jonah and the other guy touch gloves, sucking in a breath when the bell rings.

  “Open your eyes,” Addi says nudging me in the ribs. “He’s okay.”

  I didn’t realize I’d been squeezing them shut. Addi takes my hand in hers while I focus on breathing normally. I’m grateful for the small amount of comfort she provides. I tighten my grip and she does the same.

  Jonah and Stryker circle one another for a moment. My heart leaps into my throat and plummets to my stomach in one breath when Stryker lands the first punch to the side of Jonah’s head.

  My body flinches inward as if I took the hit.

  My eyes close again and I’m praying silently. Begging God to end this quickly, inflicting the least possible amount of pain on Jonah. My mom would be so proud. I didn’t go to Mass with her this year and I think it broke her heart a little. But in my time of need, when I’m completely helpless, all I can think to do is pray my heart out.

  So I do.

  Addi gives my hand another squeeze. Jonah lands some kind of kick to Stryker’s leg.

  And so it goes, back and forth, the two of them trading blows to various body parts for three excruciating rounds.

  Every hit Jonah takes I feel down to my soul. I half expect to be as bruised and battered as he is when I look down between rounds.

  There’s only a minute left in the forth round when the guys lock up in some type of oddly intimate bear-hug looking pose.

  My phone chimes in my purse. The alarm telling me it’s midnight.

  “It’s midnight,” I yell loudly. “Jonah!” Addi looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “He promised to end this by midnight. He
owes me a kiss,” I tell her.

  I was crazy to think that was possible. Jonah’s eye is swollen half-shut, bruised, and bleeding down his face, mingling with the gel-type substance he’s covered in. His sweat-soaked hair is dripping down his forehead.

  A loud sound signals the the end of the fourth round. The announcer comes overhead and tells everyone Happy New Year.

  Jonah’s head whips around to me. There’s an apology in his eyes.

  I shrug and offer him a forgiving smile.

  It was a silly request anyway.

  I can’t tell what he’s saying to the guys working on him in his corner but he doesn’t have his mouthpiece in.

  He’s up and in the middle of the octagon when the fifth round begins. Stryker approaches him looking less bloody but definitely a little world weary himself. Jonah waves him forward, antagonizing him. I glance worriedly at Addi, who wears a similar concerned expression.

  Jonah dances around, shifting his weight and causing Stryker to miss him once, twice.

  The third time, he dodges a massive swing from Stryker’s left then comes up with a wild warrior yell escaping his throat as he hits him in the right temple.

  Stryker goes down and the entire arena is on their feet, me, Mikey, and Addi included.

  Stryker’s down and out cold. As in, not getting up.

  The ref counts it out, but the medics are already approaching. When his opponent finally comes to, Jonah helps him to his feet. The poor guy looks like he doesn’t know what day it is or where he is. He’s probably wondering if anyone got the license plate of the truck that just ran him over.

  Relief whooshes through my chest as I realize that this is over.

  Jonah’s done. And he’s okay.

  He won.

  He beat the odds. In that moment it hits me. That’s what Jonah has done his entire life—overcome adversity to become the best version of himself.

  Some guys from his corner rush our seats and pull me toward the fence around the octagon. Addi shoves me toward them and the next thing I know, I’m beside Jonah under bright glaring lights.

  Only I would end up on television in my freaking pajamas.

  A large Samoan guy, who looks like he could bench press us both, wipes Jonah’s face and head rapidly with a towel.