Mace (Cocky Cage Fighter #4)

by Lane Hart

  “Fine, how about this,” I say before swipin’ away the tears. “When you and Linc started datin’, would you have made him choose between you and fightin’?”

  “God no. He loves fighting more than anything but his family.”

  “Right,” I say. “And you wouldn’t want your brother to give up fightin’, either, right?”

  “No, of course not. His career is about to take off-”

  “Exactly,” I say again.

  “But why can’t he have both?”

  “Because he can’t,” I tell her. “And I refuse to let him give it up for me. I’m not worth it.”

  “Hailey, that’s not true. Yeah, fighting is important to him, but it’s not everything.”

  “It’s everything he loves and needs right now. Maybe…maybe we can try again, you know, like in a few years.”

  “Years!” she yells into my ear. “I don’t think he can wait that long.”

  “I’m not askin’ him to,” I clarify.

  “No, I mean, he’s gonna go crazy without you.”

  “He’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

  “And what about you? Are you gonna be fine?”

  That’s debatable, so I don’t even bother lyin’ and sayin’ I will be. But I’m not the only bad guy here. I tried to call him. “If he cares about me, then what’s with the girl stayin’ in his apartment? And why did he go off to a sorority party the day after he told me he loved me?” I ask her.

  “I don’t know,” she replies with a sigh. “But if I had to guess, I think Sabrina practically lived with him, and the sorority party? Well, he probably didn’t tell you how he pays rent and all his other bills, did he?”

  “Ah, no,” I reply. I never really thought about it before, but he wouldn’t get paid trainin’ at Havoc several hours a day.

  “He dances. You know, takes his clothes off for bachelorette and birthday parties?”

  “Seriously?” I ask, not likin’ the idea of other women seein’ him mostly naked or…or touchin’ him. Do they touch him? Those dirty bitches!

  “Yeah,” she says. “It pays more than most minimum wage jobs, and he only has to work a few nights a week, which fits into his schedule so he can train during the day.”

  “Oh,” I mutter in understandin’.

  “And if I had to guess,” Claire starts. “I bet he’s stopped seeing his…harem. I mean, would he have sold his car to come all the way to New York unless he wanted you and only you?”

  “I need to call him,” I tell her, not waitin’ for her to say goodbye before I end the call. It goes straight to Mason’s voicemail.

  Turnin’ around, I hop in a cab and go back to the club where I find Elle dirty dancin’ with some frat boy, but there’s no sign of Mason. For the next few hours I keep tryin’ to call him, but when the sun starts to rise I know I’m shit out of luck. He’s probably on his way back to North Carolina by now, and soon he’ll be headin’ to Vegas for the chance of a lifetime. I need to see him and try to explain; because if he feels half as devastated as I do right now, he might lose this fight and a future he’s worked so hard for.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Mace

  I step out the front doors of The Grand after the press conference and official weigh-in, going in search of food. I’m pretty sure there’s a Hard Rock right around the corner, so that’s the direction I’m heading in when I hear my name. Not just my name, but my name spoken in a slow, southern drawl. It couldn’t be. I must be hallucinating from lack of sleep and lack of sustenance after making weight, so I keep walking.

  “May-Son!”

  The second time I hear it, I stop and look over my shoulder, certain I’m hearing things, but…well, fuck, I guess I’m seeing things too, because there stands an image of Hailey in her sexy white strapless dress and high heels, her thick, blonde hair down and flowing over her perfect breasts. When the familiar apparition starts walking toward me, I turn all the way around to watch her for the few seconds before she disappears. Right on cue, Frankie Valli’s smooth voice starts crooning the lyrics to “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You.”

  The mirage doesn’t disappear, not even when she’s only standing a foot away from me. I reach out and try to brush her hair over her shoulders to see if she really is here or if my mind is playing tricks on me. I mean, I did have to lose ten pounds in twenty-four hours, so I’m sort of out of it.

  The blonde silky locks I stroke feel the same way I remember between my fingers, and the smell of expensive flowers is the exact scent I came to love. “You’re really here?” I ask.

  “Ah, yeah. Are you okay?” she asks.

  “Hungry. And thirsty. Just had weigh-in,” I tell her.

  “Oh,” she mutters, and then looks down at her shoes.

  God, what’s wrong with me? I’m talking about food when the woman I’ve tried everything to get is finally standing in front of me. She came all the way across the country for me.

  “I’m really glad you’re here. I’ve missed you so damn much,” I tell her, and her sad blue eyes flash back up to mine.

  “I-I’ve missed you, too,” she says softly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about the other night at The Griffin.”

  “How did you know I was there?” I ask, letting her hair fall from my fingers.

  “Well, the guy that came up to me described you, and then Claire called and told me,” she explains. “I didn’t really go home with him or bring him home with me. I just…I just didn’t want to give you a reason to stay.”

  “What?” I ask in confusion with my hands on my hips. I’m relieved she didn’t screw that fucker, but I don’t understand why she didn’t want me to stay.

  “When I realized you had come all the way up there for me, I was afraid you would stop fightin’ and stay with me if I told you how happy I was that you came to see me. But I was happy,” Hailey says and rapidly blinks away the tears in her eyes. “I just wish you wouldn’t have sold your car to do it.”

  “But why…”

  “I know about the ‘image’ and the contract for the IFC,” she tells me. “I didn’t want you to give up such a huge opportunity just for me.”

  “Just for you?” I repeat. “What about for myself? What if I wanted to give it up so that I could be with you and actually be happy for once in my life? I don’t need to fight. I can live without fighting. But you…I’m not sure I can live without you.”

  “Good,” Hailey says when she inhales in a shaky breath. “Because I don’t care anymore if I’m being selfish. I want to be with you. I love you, May-Son, so much that it hurts-”

  Hearing those four words has me launching myself at her, shoving my fingers through her hair to bring her mouth to mine in a kiss so forceful it might leave bruises. Hailey’s arms go around me, her palms pressing on my back to keep me flush against her as our tongues dive desperately in and out of each other’s mouths.

  We don’t break apart until sometime later when a man’s deep voice starts singing, “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” Hailey and I both laugh as we look over in the direction of the Elvis impersonator serenading us. About that time, a white neon light flickers on over his head, right as darkness falls. And for the second time in my life, time stands still when I read the words. Tonight, this isn’t all just a coincidence. Like the first day I saw Hailey, there’s something…bigger going on here. This is where she and I are meant to be, at this exact moment. It’s destiny. She’s wearing white for Christ’s sake!

  So, I blurt out the two words that I’ve never been so sure of in my life.

  “Marry me?” I ask at the same time Hailey says, “Yes,” like she was already anticipating the question.

  “Yes?” I repeat with a smile when I stare into her beautiful blue eyes. In them, I see our two souls weaving together, joining in an indestructible bond that’s stronger than any piece of paper. “Yes, you’ll marry me? Right now?”

  “Yes,” she says again with the stunning smile I could spend the rest of my life worshi
ping. “If you’re sure about the consequences it’ll have on fightin’, and…and if you can promise me you’re done with every other woman in the world.”

  “I’m absolutely sure about both. After I win tomorrow, I’ll have enough money to figure out what I want to do if I can’t fight,” I tell her. “And as far as I’m concerned, there is no other woman in the world but you.”

  “Are we nuts? We are, aren’t we?” Hailey giggles as we both stare at the neon sign for The Little Wedding Chapel.

  “No, it doesn’t seem nuts when I think about spending the rest of my life hearing you laugh and seeing your smile,” I tell her before kissing her again. I can’t wait another second to do this, so I take her hand and practically drag her across the street to the chapel. I’m tempted to carry her, but I want her to make this decision, following me on her own two feet. She can run the other way at any time, but I know she won’t, just like I know this is the best decision of my life, and I’ll never regret it.

  We casually stroll into the front of the chapel, and a few minutes later, we walk out the back, following the warm glow of lights into a white gazebo with the dazzling City of Sin as our backdrop. Once we step inside, we take turns saying vows that we’ll love each other for better or for worse, through sickness and health, for richer or poorer, and exchange the wedding bands we just bought five minutes earlier. Neither of us stop smiling or release the hold we have on each other’s hand. I wouldn’t be able to identify the man who is marrying us from a police line-up because I can’t take my eyes off my bride.

  Maybe I’m young and stupid, but this decision doesn’t have anything to do with either of those things. Life is too damn short, and I don’t want to live another day without her. I also know that this is what Hailey needs so that she’ll never doubt how much I love her, and only her.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride,” the man I’ve never actually seen tells me. It could be the Elvis impersonator for all I know.

  “Wait,” I say when a thought suddenly hits me. “Are you moving home or am I moving to New York?” There’s no way I can live in a different state from her.

  “I’m moving back home,” she says without hesitation.

  “Are you sure?” I ask. “’Cause I could move to New York if you want to stay.”

  “I really want to live in North Carolina. I lied the other day,” she answers.

  “Good,” I reply with an exhale. The mysterious man clears his throat as if he’s waiting for us to do something. Oh yeah! “Can I kiss my wife now?” I ask.

  “Go for it,” the faceless man says, so I do.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Hailey Abrams Reed

  “Are you gonna take my name?” my new husband asks from behind me. He starts placin’ open mouth kisses down my neck, all while I try and focus on swipin’ his room key to make the little lights turn green. It’s not as easy as you would think, especially with one of his big hands wedged between my thighs. His fingers tease me through my panties. What was the question? Oh, do I plan to take his name.

  “Yes, and no hyphen,” I tell him. I squeak in triumph when I turn the lever and the hotel door opens. I squeal again when my feet suddenly come off the ground and I’m hefted into Mason’s strong arms.

  “I’ve got to carry you over the threshold, right?” he asks, lookin’ happy and smug before his lips find mine. I run my fingers through the back of his hair, holdin’ his mouth to mine to keep us connected, even when he lowers us to the bed. God, I am so freakin’ lucky to be married to this wonderful man.

  “So, you’re gonna move in with me?” Mason asks. He pauses to look up at me with army green eyes before yankin’ the top of my dress down and latchin’ his mouth over my nipple.

  “Yes,” I moan in answer, spreadin’ my thighs for his body to settle in between them.

  “Do you regret not having your family there?”

  I freeze when I realize I missed havin’ my dad walk me down the aisle, and my mom fret over all the weddin’ details like a big, beautiful dress. But at the same time, it just felt right, like I had to marry Mason right that second.

  “I don’t regret getting’ married,” I tell Mason as he hovers over me, worryin’ his bottom lip with his teeth while waitin’ anxiously for my response. Without a mother or father, and after recently losing Mandy, I think eloping is what was best for Mason so that he wouldn’t have to look over at his side of an aisle and see so many empty spaces. “I wish my family and Claire could’ve been there, yeah, but they weren’t, and I’m okay with that, too. I didn’t want to wait.”

  “You sure?” he asks. “We could have another wedding if you want.”

  “Maybe,” I reply, combin’ my fingers through the front of his hair. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna freak out and say this was a mistake.”

  “Me, either,” Mason assures me. “Now, I’m gonna make love to you, call room service so I can eat and drink a bunch of shit, and then I’m gonna bury myself inside you, making myself at home for the rest of the night.”

  “Sounds good,” I tell him.

  “Where was I, Mrs. Reed?” he asks, makin’ me giggle and grin like an idiot. He reaches around to unzip my dress, and then he slides it and himself farther down my body. “Oh, right. I was sucking on your titties and getting ready to lick your pussy.” His tongue strums over my nipple several times before he looks up at me and says, “I can’t believe you’re really mine, not just tonight, but for the rest of my life.”

  “Hurry up and claim me as your wife, Mr. Reed,” I tell him. Sittin’ up, I reach for the hem of his black Havoc tee and pull it over his head. That’s right; we were married with me in my white dress and him in a shirt with my brother’s logo. Now that his chest is bare, I tug on his arms and he willingly lets me yank him up my body until his mouth is back on mine again.

  “Mason,” he says against my lips. “Please don’t ever call me anything else because I love the way you say my name. May,” he kisses me again, “Son.”

  “I love you, Mason,” I tell him while shovin’ his black athletic pants and boxers down his legs as far as I can. “I’d love you more if you were naked.”

  He chuckles as he reaches down to remove his shoes and socks, kickin’ off the rest of his clothes. On the way back up, his warm mouth covers my sensitive flesh through my white, lace thong, makin’ me writhe and moan before he jerks the material out of the way and tongues my pussy until I’m about to shatter.

  My heart is racin’ and I’m almost hyperventilatin’ when Mason kisses my lips again and wraps me tightly in his arms.

  “I love you, Hailey. Let me show you how much,” he says. I hold him to me as our bodies join, makin’ love to each other for the very first time as husband and wife.

  …

  Mace

  “You ready?” Linc asks as he finishes taping up my hands in one of the arena’s dressing rooms.

  “Uh-huh,” I say with an unpreventable smile.

  “You sure? You seem…off. Where did you go last week when you should’ve been trainin’ your ass off?”

  “Nowhere. I just needed a day off,” I lie while I put my gloves on. Hailey and I haven’t had a chance to tell anyone our news since we refused to leave the hotel room until ten minutes ago when I had to check in for the fight.

  “Well, you better get your shit together. And remember, don’t step into your swing if he’s on the offensive. You’ve gotta be patient. Look for the openin’ or you’ll get slammed.”

  “Got it,” I say when he gives me the same advice for the millionth time.

  “You can easily win this fight if you play it smart,” he tells me.

  Nodding my agreement, I shadow box to warm up in the small space. Linc’s right. I haven’t been able to get my head in this fight because of how shitty the week was without Hailey, and now all I can think about is seeing my new wife again after the fight. If I don’t get in the right mindset soon, I’m gonna lose. Then I’ll have nothing
. No big money and no contract, with a wife to take care of.

  There’s a knock on the door that Linc answers. An older, gray-haired man in a dark suit stands in the opening with a briefcase. “Mason Reed?” he asks.

  “Yeah, that’s me,” I say as I approach him.

  “Carl Warren, head scout for the IFC,” he says with a smile, offering me a handshake which I take with my gloved hand. “I know they’re almost ready for you, but can I get just a minute of your time?”

  “Sure,” I reply quickly.

  “I’ll wait for you out in the hall,” Linc says as he leaves the room and shuts the door.

  “Have you seen the Vegas odds?” Mr. Warren asks. I nod even though I haven’t looked at them since the weigh-in last night. “No one’s ever seen you fight before, but the odds are with you. You know why?”

  “No clue,” I say, shaking my head honestly.

  “You’ve got a presence that makes people sit up and take notice. You’re likeable in your interviews. Men want to be you and women want you. The IFC wants you. Win tonight and we’re willing to cover a hundred percent of your training and travel. Sponsors will line up for you, and we’ll set you up with no less than two fights a year with a minimum purse of one hundred grand for a loss.”

  Holy shit. That is a lot of money for losing.

  “If you win your first four fights,” he goes on, sweetening the deal. “Then in two years’ time you’ll get a shot at a title fight, with a minimum purse of five hundred thousand, a million if you win.”

  The amounts of money this man is talking about are staggering. Growing up, it wasn’t uncommon for the electricity to go out for a few days until mom worked extra shifts, or for the landlord to bang on the door warning us he was gonna throw us out if she didn’t come up with the late rent. It’s hard to even imagine the amounts of money being offered to me now.

  “So, I just have to win tonight?” I ask, because it all seems too good to be true. Dave, my new manager, has made it clear that they want me to not only stay single, but look like a playboy.