One Last Fight - Part Two (The One Last Fight Series Book 2)

by Ashley, Ava

  To my surprise, it's a better match than I expected. Nate has clearly been working hard since the taped fights I watched. He's blocking more, dodging more, throwing harder punches, and mixing up his moves a little. That's not to say that he's any real threat. I keep the lead all throughout the match, but the kid has come far and is rising to the occasion. It's like he has something to prove.

  The men are a mixed crowd, half roaring with adrenaline and half tight-lipped with anxiety. There's always a lot of money riding on the matches, even these pre-tournament underground ones that aren't officially sanctioned. Maybe even especially these, because they're fights without rules or regulations. These fights are all about the strength and skill of man alone.

  The women aren't divided like the men. The plain, good girl types, the foxy man-eater types, and the seasoned groupies alike are all going crazy. Somewhere in my peripheral vision a bra goes flying through the air, but it means nothing to me. This is my life, this what I do, and this is what I know.

  I win, though by a smaller margin than expected and after putting in significantly more work than against the lower-ranked fighters in my league. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone signs him straight out of the ring and they schedule a rematch for us later in the tournament. When we shake hands, the kid looks me straight in the eyes and nods at me like we're equals, instead of just holding his head and grimacing, like some defeated fighters do. There's something hard in his face. I don't know what it is, but the kid has developed some new chip on his shoulder in the past few months.

  My SEAL training makes me take note of all of this and my fighter instinct, encouraging me to learn all that I can about my opponent, makes me immediately try to figure out how these changes could affect me. It's not a big concern, however. He is still far from my toughest opponent, even if he does get signed and join this league, and I'm not threatened.

  I see him shortly after, sneaking into the locker rooms with a cheap Malibu Barbie type. Not my type and definitely a little more trashy than necessary, but she's also not entirely unattractive and the care Nate takes to look around and move quietly, looking like he's hiding the girl, seems a little excessive. Or maybe he has a girlfriend and Malibu Barbie isn't her?

  Not my business.

  "So, Cooper." Vlad greets me by my locker with a big bottle of an electrolyte-balanced sports drink and a fresh towel. He doesn't finish his sentence, just raises his eyebrows at me.

  I don't take the bait, and instead just glug from the bottle of sports drink. After a little while of that, after which Vlad gets that I'm not saying anything of my own volition, he continues.

  "What was that all about?" he asks.

  "What was what all about?" I ask. I know what he means.

  "Is it still the girl?" Vlad asks, ignoring my pointless deflector question. "Who is this chick?"

  "I don't know, man," I say, pulling my sweat-drenched shirt over my head and starting to unwrap my knuckles. "She's something else."

  "She must be," says Vlad, looking bemused. "I haven't seen you like this before."

  I shake my head. "She's just my roommate. Don't get any of your big ideas."

  "So, the usual?" asks Vlad. "Get in, get off, get out?"

  I bristle. I don't like him talking about her like that. "Can we talk about something that matters?" I say. "Like what happened to that kid, Nate?"

  "Surprised you, didn't he?" Vlad is finally off the subject. There's nothing that he would rather talk about or think about than fighting strategy. "The little punk has been working hard. That's why we never get complacent. There’s already talk of a rematch for you guys later in the tournament. Two trainers are arguing over who gets him right now."

  "Yes, sir," I say. "So, the deal?"

  "You know I don't like gossip," Vlad starts. I raise an eyebrow. You wouldn't think it looking at him, since he's such a tough guy, but Vlad likes little more than to know everything about everyone. It makes sense from a strategic standpoint, but it's still an entertaining contradiction with his impersonal presentation to those who don't know him well. Vlad continues, "That Nate kid, whose face you were pounding a few minutes ago, is the golden boy of motorcycle club king Salvador Moreno."

  "A prince of the streets?" I smirk. It sure didn't help him win his fight.

  "Aye," nods Vlad, "But a troubled one. After the last big gang war between the Morenos and their rivals, the Santoses, they called a truce by promising that their children would marry. And apparently his little miss to be ran off not too long before the wedding."

  "Couldn't keep her satisfied?" I ask. Then I remember the girl I saw earlier. "So I'm guessing she's not Malibu Barbie, then? Huh, maybe that's why. The kid needs to learn to keep it in his pants if he wants to wife that."

  "This, coming from you?" Vlad laughs.

  "Hey!" I protest. "I don't want to wife anyone. What I do works for me." I say it a little less confidently than usual, which is ridiculous. Of course I don't.

  Vlad shrugs. "If he can't find his fiancee and get her back by October sixth at midnight, word has it that the biggest, deadliest gang war yet will break out between the Morenos and Santoses on October seventh."

  "What's then?" I ask.

  "That's exactly two months after the wedding was supposed to happen, on the girl's eighteenth birthday," Vlad says. "All I can say is that I'm sure as hell glad I'm not that kid right now."

  "Hell, yeah." I shake my head. "It's no wonder he's been training harder. I would, too, to get my mind off of all that."

  Vlad gives me another look. "You already are, and all it took was some cute

  girl."

  "Don't complain," I say, "You want me to train hard, don't you?"

  "I'm not complaining," Vlad says, putting his hands up, "I'm just surprised, that's all."

  I head off for a shower without a response. Hell, I'm surprised, too.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Savannah

  Cooper and I settle into a surprisingly comfortable pattern of friendly conversation and amiable company over the next few days. It's pretty painfully obvious, at least to me, that we're ignoring the elephant in the room—our chemistry—but Cooper doesn't push me or try to start anything beyond friendship, because he can tell that I'm holding back.

  That just makes me want him even more. And so I do the only logical thing that I can do.

  I set about doing all that I can to move out of the apartment, and get far, far away from Cooper, as soon as possible. Finding a second job that would accommodate my job at the tattoo parlor, with its variable shift end times, proves impossible. I don't give up, though, since I know that this place was an absolute steal and I can't afford another place, or to move back into motels, unless I make more money. Luckily, Tamryn talks a lot and I have an ear for business.

  The parlor is almost empty one evening, except for a last client getting some body work in the back room, and I'm washing tools while Tamryn is going through the appointment book.

  By which I really mean, spinning around in her wheeled office chair and gossiping.

  "Karma's a bitch," she starts.

  "Oh?" I say.

  "Uh huh," she nods, vindictively. "My cuz, Julie, is such a little slut. Do you know what that skank did to me?"

  Of course not. "No, but I would love to hear all about it." I smile. Tamryn and I have developed a fun, joking relationship.

  "You're damn right, you would!" Tamryn's eyes light up, the way they do only when she has a particularly juicy piece of gossip. "Well, I was dating this guy in high school, Bobby. He was cute enough, but not my best-looking boyfriend, and he was such a slacker that I eventually dumped him. He'd just drink beer and game on his computer all day. I'd have to practically climb in his lap with my boobs out to even get his attention!" Tamryn definitely wasn't the most delicate or prudish of girls, as I had quickly learned. "Anyway, I cut the loser loose when I realized that I'd be taking myself to prom if I didn't. I needed someone who wanted to do something. Anything!"

/>   "Okay, so Julie is involved how...?" I have to prompt her, if I want to get to the meat of the story before the parlor closes. Tamryn also has a tendency of going off on tangents—and long ones.

  "Well, lo and behold, my cousin starts dating him a few years later. Dating my boyfriend!"

  "Your ex-boyfriend," I point out.

  "Girl code!" Tamryn wags a finger at me. "Once a boyfriend, always off limits. Anyway, after Julie starts dating him, Bobby decides to clean up, grab his life by the nuts, and go off to medical school. Who knew the guy had the brains for that? I sure didn't!"

  "Mmm." I nod, agreeably.

  "Now Julie's the yoga-doing, soap opera-watching, stay at home wife of a doctor in a big ol' house with over three hundred channels on her cable plan, a big mutt, and the kind of fancy wine that you can't even get in a box." That last part seems to really irk her.

  "It sounds like it worked out well for her," I say, staying neutral in tone.

  "Ha!" Tamryn snorts. "I'm telling you that Bobby was always a two minute flop in the sack. Anyway, here's the best part—Julie's now almost eight months pregnant, huge as a whale, and has such high blood pressure that she's on bed rest. She says it's from the baby, but my money says it's all the Ho-Ho's and Ding-Dongs she must have been eating lately. Ha, good luck getting that little wasp waist she was so proud of back!"

  Suddenly, I have an idea.

  "You said she has a dog?" I ask.

  "Yeah, so?" asks Tamryn, popping her gum.

  I've always been good with animals, especially dogs. I always wanted one, but Dad didn't have the time and, since the only kind of dog he would consider acceptable for him to own would be a rottweiler, didn't think I was up to the task of handling the dog by myself. If Tamryn's cousin is on bed rest and her husband works all the time as a doctor, that means there's no one to walk her dog.

  "Can I ask you for a favor?" I ask.

  "What?" Tamryn looks at me suspiciously.

  "I really need some more money and I love dogs. Can you ask your cousin if she needs a dog walker and recommend me for the job? Please?"

  Tamryn brushes the question off with a wave of her hand. "The skank owes me that much. Consider it done."

  "Aw, thank you!"

  Sure enough, the very next day I get a call from Julie asking when I can start. And just like that, I have a daily morning jog with Maxie, her slightly overweight mutt, lined up.

  Good. The sooner I get out of the apartment and away from Cooper, and temptation, the better. I don't know how much more I can take.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cooper

  I'm interested in getting to know this girl. She feels it, too, but she's scared of accepting it. I have decided that I want to pursue this, I want to pursue her, and see where this goes. She has decided that she wants to run.

  That just makes my job a little more challenging. But there's nothing I like more than a challenge.

  I came home late the other night and found her asleep on the sofa, curled up with a thin blanket and as cute as can be. Spread out on her stomach was the newspaper, folded open to the housing ads. So my job is to get in and get close before she has the chance to get out.

  That's fine. I didn't feel like taking my time anyway.

  "Where are you off to?" I'm finishing my protein shake in the kitchen when Savannah walks through the door in a pair of tight yoga shorts and a sporty t-shirt. Her hair is up in a ponytail, she's wearing a pair of running shoes, and she's not wearing a smidge of makeup. She's beautiful.

  "Oh, I'm dog-walking on the side." She rolls her eyes and corrects herself. "Well, dog jogging. The pup has a few pounds to lose, so I'm trying to get him some quality exercise."

  "Cool, I'll join you," I say. I'm still wearing my gym clothes from earlier, so I just drink the last dregs of my protein shake and go over to her.

  "Oh, um, I..." she stammers, clearly searching for a reason that I shouldn't come with her. I don't give her time to come up with something.

  “I was just heading out on a run myself. we may as well go together. I'll show you the good routes, since you're new in town." I give her a wink.

  "I, uh..." She looks up, like she expects to find a good excuse to avoid me written on the ceiling.

  "Are you coming?" I'm already halfway out the door, bouncing on the balls of my feet.

  "I..." she sighs. "Yeah, I'm coming."

  I smile. We make idle conversation, just pretty basic small talk, on our way over to the big house where she picks up a fat dog with droopy eyes and a jiggling belly that hangs down further than it should. Poor thing really could use a run. I don't know when he last got some movement. Looking at the size of the bump on that woman, I'd guess it's probably been a while.

  "Think we'll have to carry him home?" I joke, after we jog a few blocks.

  "He'll be fine." Her answer is as short as they've been on the whole run, even though I can tell it's not because she's at all out of breath. The girl is fit. She probably runs regularly to keep that perfect ass of hers in the top form that it's in. Short as her answer is, though, I know that she's having trouble keeping her cold act up. The sides of her mouth twitch a bit and she's struggling to keep the smile out of her eyes.

  "It's okay. We're running uphill for this first part anyway." I shrug. "Worse comes to worst, we'll just roll him back."

  Now she cracks a smile. "Shut up," she says, trying to force some seriousness.

  "Too late!" I cheer. "She smiles!"

  "Sorry," she says, smiling again. "I'm just not looking for...friends. Not right

  now. I have a lot going on, you know?"

  "I get it," I say, "Busy girl, good for you. I like to see a girl with ambition. But ambition doesn't mean you have to isolate yourself, you know."

  "Yeah..." She looks at me briefly, then looks away. She's definitely hiding something, but that's okay. I'll figure it out.

  I give her a little nudge. "And who said I want to be your friend, pretty girl?"

  She gives me a wide-eyed stare for a second, then an unwilling grin—and then, looking like she has no idea what she's supposed to feel, sprints off with the dog.

  I charge after her. This spirited, sporty girl is worth the chase. I feel exhilarated running after her like I haven't in the longest time.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Savannah

  I'm still on cloud nine all through my shower, and as I get dressed before my evening shift. I try to tell myself that it's the endorphins from my run, which was great. But I know it's not Cooper's pace challenging me to push myself on those hills that has me in such a good mood. As much as I try to keep my guard up and be as off-putting and cold around that man as conceivable within the bounds of basic interpersonal decency, I can't keep myself from feeling at ease. There's something about Cooper that makes me want to open up. There's something about him that makes me feel safe and comfortable and just plain happy.

  But it's when you become content that you find yourself in trouble. Happiness is dangerous.

  I'm a little early for work and decide to grab a slice from Bennie's Pizza before work for dinner. In my floating-on-air state of peace, I'm less on guard and less aware of my surroundings. That's why it takes me a minute to realize that the voice in the booth behind me is a familiar one. It has been weeks—since I ran away, in fact—since I last heard a familiar voice. But when I finally realize that the woman's voice in the booth behind me belongs to someone I knew in my life as Savannah Santos, I quickly slouch down in my booth and pull the hood of my sweatshirt up way over my face.

  "Are you close?" The voice is hushed, like the woman doesn't want to attract attention to herself, either, but it's distinct. "Okay, please hurry. I'm waiting here for you already."

  It's Lily. Lily Moreno, Nate's sister.

  Fuck.

  Luckily, her booth is closer to the back of the pizza place, and further from the door, than mine. That means that I don't have to pass her to leave.

  Pulling my hood down
as far over my face as I can, I quietly get up and walk as quickly as I can out of Bennie's Pizza without attracting attention to myself.

  This is bad. This is very bad. What is Lily doing all the way down here? This is way out of our usual range; we never wander this far. No one from the clubs comes to this part of town, just because it's far away and there's not really anything here to come all this way for. That is why I chose to come here. So why is Lily here? Bennie's Pizza is definitely not that good.

  Is she looking for me?

  I can't wipe that thought from my mind through my whole shift and I'm quiet and distracted. Even Tamryn notices something is wrong and keeps asking me how I'm feeling and if I'm okay.

  I am somewhat calmer by the end of the night, but this is just a reminder of why I can't afford to let down my guard. This is why I can't afford to start something with Cooper.

  I grab the newspaper off the kitchen counter when I get home, even though it's late, because I need out. I need out fast, before it's too late.

  Chapter Twenty

  Savannah

  I wake up in tears the next morning. I can't do anything but lie there, sobbing, body shaking. I can't think straight enough to think through it and convince myself that everything is going to be okay.

  I'm just so confused and so unhappy. Seeing Lily brought everything I'd been trying not think about up to the forefront and rubbed raw a few wounds I didn't even realize that I had.

  Why did I have to meet Cooper? Why did I have to pick this particular fucking apartment and meet this particular man who, in an alternate world where I'm not the prisoner of my identity, could be someone really special to me?

  The worst part is that he already is becoming someone really special to me, and it hurts like a dagger through my heart to realize it. I'm breathing in short gasps. Even though I'm just lying on my bed, I cannot manage to catch my breath. The pain is so deep and so intense that it's a physical pain. I curl into the fetal position, like folding in on myself will make my feelings smaller, too—but, of course, it doesn't work.