I Am Lioness (The Bloodshed Series Book 1)

by Dee Garcia

  Jason chuckled sarcastically. “Quite obviously you do not have it, otherwise you would have secured a new coach by now. Do you realize how difficult it’s going to be to find someone in forty-eight hours?”

  “I said I've got this, Jason! Back the hell off!” Hazel roared vehemently.

  The silence that ensued was deafening. Time seemed to tick by slowly until Jason finally spoke, his tone even and cool. “I didn't think it was possible for you to be more stubborn but yet again you prove me wrong. You don't want my help? Fine. But when the Board pulls you from the League, because they will without hesitation, I don't want to hear a word about it.”

  And then the door slammed shut followed by a furious Hazel groaning loudly and stomping down the hall in a fit a rage.

  I stood stock still in disbelief. To say I was stunned was putting it lightly. My mind was reeling, running a mile per minute as I digested everything I’d just overheard.

  The enormity of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. In the two weeks I was away, Hazel had not only failed to meet the Board's requirements, she’d also lied to me.

  The last time we had spoken about it—which was a few days before I was due to fly out to Miami—she claimed to be debating between the two most qualified and professional men she’d interviewed, so I left it alone under the assumption she had everything under control.

  Oh, how wrong I was.

  I wanted nothing more than to storm out of the room and confront her right, then, and there, but the rational side of me knew better than to act out in a moment of anger.

  Taking a few deep cleansing breaths, I sauntered back over to the bed, collected my bag and my sneakers, and headed out to the main room, hoping like hell I could keep my temper in check.

  Hazel was staring out the window when I entered the spacious area and dropped down onto one of the white couches, slipping my feet into my shoes.

  “You ready to go?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” One word from her. That was it.

  It only served to make me angrier. She snatched her bag off the table as I rose to my feet and together we made our way out the door in silence. Not a word was uttered in the elevator nor while we waited near valet for the car.

  To say the short ride to the gym was tense was putting it lightly. I opted to drive so I could focus on something other than the dozens of thoughts running wildly through my mind.

  Hazel sat motionless in the passenger seat beside me, eyes glued out the window, lips curled in an angry smirk of sorts. She took my hand when I offered it and answered the few questions I asked, but her responses were clipped and she made no move to initiate any sort of conversation.

  When we walked into the gym, Hazel left me by the door to do her own thing and I didn’t stop her. I let her go because I wanted to get my own workout in as well, clear my head before we hit the bags.

  I ran on the treadmill, hit the elliptical, and then the weights, all the while watching Hazel go beastmode on every leg machine she came across. Apparently it was leg day for her.

  We were going to have to get on similar schedules now that I was here for good, especially with what I had in mind.

  Almost an hour later, Hazel joined me at the back of the gym with a roll of pink tape in her hands. I finished one last rep set and wiped my face before I lead her to one of the benches and wrapped up her hands.

  As soon as the last bit was secured in place, she took off for the bag and came out swinging like it was attacking her. I watched from my seat and let her go at it for a while before I rose to my feet and began calling out different combo’s.

  She nailed each one with such precise speed and force, grunting and roaring as she pummeled the bag with no mercy.

  When she tired of the bag, we climbed into the ring, and this time around, she didn’t argue about me throwing on the mitts. Upon securing them in place, I shielded myself behind my arms, giving Hazel the green light. Much like she did with the bag, she came out swinging without holding back.

  “So, when were you planning on sharing with me that you haven't found a new coach yet?” I asked suddenly, unable to hold back the question any longer.

  Hazel’s possible removal from the league if she couldn’t obtain a new coach was disconcerting. As per her contract, she was required to have one throughout the course of the season and after Bernie’s funeral, the Board had generously granted her a four-week grace period due to the circumstances.

  But those days were quickly coming to an end and based on what I’d overheard this morning, the final outcome didn’t seem too promising.

  Hazel froze, brown eyes drifting away from the mitts momentarily to focus on my face. “That’s not something I particularly care to discuss right now.” Her fist came flying out at lightning speed, crushing into my left hand. She jabbed out three more times with alternating arms, each blow more forceful than the last, before adding with finality, “We’ll talk about it later.”

  It wasn't lost on me that Hazel had not only completely overlooked my question, she was also expecting me to back down and do as she said.

  The woman was equally as domineering as I was, assuming I would just fall in line and obey her every command with a snap of her fingers. The one crack in her plan, however, was that I would never submit.

  I was not a man easily deterred.

  Nice try, baby.

  I shook my head and pressed on adamantly, determined to acquire the answers that plagued me from the moment I learned the truth. “No, we’re going to discuss it now. I don't think you realize how serious of an issue this is. If I heard correctly then you have two days left to present a new coach to the Board. TWO. And if you don't, they’re going to pull you from the season.”

  “I’m very well aware, Knox,” she snapped, hopping on the balls of her feet in a perfect circle around me.

  Keeping up with her pace and following her brisk movements, I pivoted in my spot waiting for the next swing. “Good to know. Now please, tell me, what exactly is your plan?”

  “I said we’ll talk about it later.” Her tone held a edge this time, red-hot anger bubbling just beneath the surface.

  One more poke at the angry bear—or Lioness rather—and she was likely to explode in the same way she'd done with Jason. But right then in that moment, I could not have cared less.

  “Later is not an option, Hazel. We’re having this conversation now. You’ve had weeks to share this tidbit of information with me yet you chose to lie, for reasons I can't understand. And the cherry on the damn top is me finding out about this shit storm because I overheard you and Jason this morning. The man who has continuously tried to shove a wedge into our relationship is well aware of the trials in your life, but me? Your man? I'm left in the dark and…”

  “I said I don't want to talk about this right now!” She roared furiously, cutting me off mid-sentence and rooting us both to our spots just a few feet apart.

  Her stance fell away but her piercing stare held like a vise. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin challengingly, crossing her arms across her chest. The twinkle in her eyes held no amusement, in fact, it was all too similar to the one she preyed upon her opponents with.

  Unfortunately for her, I wasn't a weak opponent.

  My blood instantly burned with indignation. What aggravated me most was her resistance to open up to me about this specific situation—one I was all too familiar with—when in the not so distant past she’d had no problem communicating with me.

  The fact that she’d been holding back something so important when it could have been all too easy for me to lend a helping hand was aggravating. None of this would be an issue if she would have spoken up and now I was going to fix it the only way I knew how, whether she liked it or not.

  “Fine, don't talk.” I said, ripping the mitts off my hands one at a time and taking the few steps to close the distance between us. “I will. And you will listen very carefully to each and every word because I’m trying help you. Do you understand me?”<
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  She didn't answer me, wouldn't spare me a look, her head actually turning way to avoid my questioning gaze. Harsh lines of anger marred her beautiful face, brows knit together and lips puckered along with it.

  I brought two fingers to her chin and turned her back to face me, forcing her to acknowledge my presence. When her eyes finally met mine, I asked again, “Do. You. Understand me?”

  The word itself never left her mouth but she nodded in response, her throat bobbing through a deep swallow.

  “When we get back to the hotel, you're going to call Jason into our suite so he can get ahold of whoever is in charge of the Board to assure them you'll have a new coach at the fight on Friday night.” With the very tips of my fingers, I pushed on her abdomen, urging her to step back as I advanced forward. “And when they ask Jason for this coach’s name, he's going to say Knox. Steel. Carr.”

  Her mouth popped open to protest but I shut her down with a simple shake of my finger.

  “Eh, eh, eh. Let me finish.” I chided. “You'll get your turn.”

  I trapped her straight into the corner, her back hitting flush against the padded post at the very edge of the ring. Gripping the ropes in my hands, I dropped my head low beside her ear. “Let me be the one in your corner, Hazel. Don't fight me on this and really think about it. I'm the only option you have left unless you’re interested in hiring one of those idiots who have absolutely no idea what they’re doing.”

  “Do you know what you're doing?” She bit out.

  “Don't we train well together?” I countered.

  She nodded.

  “So then obviously I know what I'm doing. Just say yes.” I urged, praying that she would think wisely and put aside her stubborn ways.

  There was a look of uncertainty in her eyes but I knew she realized this was her only way out. “Yes.” She said finally and I grinned, taking her face between my hands.

  “Worry not, my little Lioness. Coach Carr is going to make sure you stay on top.”

  It. Was. Fight night.

  The referee stalked into the cage ready to watch over the final round of the evening.

  That’s my cue.

  I took one last look at Hazel who was already bouncing on her toes, preying on her opponent from across the way, and exited the steel octagon, heading to my designated post.

  “Knox.” I heard her voice call out above the crowd.

  When I glanced over my shoulder, she smiled and crouched down low, puckering her lips between the cage. I grinned and stalked to the edge of the ring, clasping the cool metal in my fingers as I pressed my lips to hers. Our PDA did not go unnoticed. The entire arena erupted in a series of hoots and hollers that had Hazel laughing softly against my mouth.

  “Go hard, baby.” I said.

  She pecked my lips once more and stood tall. “Always, you know that.”

  Stepping back, I watched her take her place center ring, her opponent—Ashley ‘Fierce’ Fernandez—joining seconds later with the ref on her tail. He stood between them with his arms extended at his sides, mostly to keep Fierce in check. She was mean, known to become agitated at the flip of a switch and turn the fight into a nasty downward spiral.

  There hadn’t been an issue thus far, but with this being the last round of the evening and the way she was glaring at Hazel across the short distance separating them, I had a feeling she was going to give my girl utter hell. She knew she wasn’t winning tonight, that didn’t mean she was going to go down gently though.

  I sucked in a deep breath as they tapped gloves and retreated further away, arms held up in stance.

  Here we go.

  The referee glanced between them one last time and with a simple clap of his hands, Fierce went bounding towards Hazel in a full sprint.

  I clenched my fist as Hazel took off, bracing myself for the impact she was about to endure. They were millimeters from colliding when Hazel came out with a quick arm and caught Ashley by her middle, flipped her over with such speed, the girl didn’t know what happened till she hit the mat.

  The arena came to life with dozens upon dozens of spectators springing to their feet, their arms flying up in excitement, amping up the scene taking place before me.

  Hazel mounted Ashley and threw her fists down like a jackhammer, landing several solid hits to her face. Ashley finally covered and jerked her upper body away from the hailstorm of punches raining down over her but she didn’t get very far.

  Hazel pounced and draped her body over Fierce’s chest, trapping her head to the mat and her arm in a lock that left her nearly immobile.

  Ashley laid still for a moment until she noticed the referee looming beside her, ready to begin the countdown. She wiggled her other arm from under Hazel’s legs and sank her fingers in Hazel’s hair, pulling her back far enough to free herself in entirety and toss Hazel over her in a heap.

  Both women scrambled to their feet, prowling around their corners. The ref pointed to Fierce in warning for the hair pull, granting Hazel the opportunity to quickly advance to the middle.

  Fierce approached, arms up in a weak cover, watching Hazel bouncing around her with brisk feet and lithe grace. Round and around they went until finally Ashley swung a leg out, but Hazel’s movements were much too quick and she jumped back out of reach.

  I could see Fierce growing angrier by the second, rage flashing in her eyes as she lunged for Hazel, pushing them back against the cage with force.

  They struggled against each other for quite some time, alternating their grips and who was trapped against the cool steel. Hazel had the advantage more times than not, throwing in heavy-handed punches that eventually wore Fierce down enough for her to wiggle free and retreat to center ring.

  “LI-ON-ESS, LI-ON-ESS!” The crowd was chanting now in unison.

  Hazel grinned and coaxed Ashley with her hands. Bring it, I saw her mouth.

  With a growl, Fierce pushed off the cage and bound toward Hazel in a rush. Hazel shot out first, catching Ashley just beneath her eye to which she stumbled back, momentarily stunned. She shook it off and jabbed out, alternating her fists in a speedy double that my girl dodged without batting an eyelash.

  A swift and unexpected gut punch brought Fierce to her knees. The ref stepped in front of Hazel with an arm out, keeping a watchful eye on Ashley who was now folded over on the mat, clutching her stomach as she attempted to fill her lungs with air.

  Her coach was just beyond the cage urging her to get to her feet with words of encouragement barely heard above the crowd. Despite the pain lancing through her body, Fierce sucked in a deep breath and lifted herself off the mat, using the adrenaline that pumped through her veins to charge toward Hazel before the clock timed out.

  Terrible mistake on her part.

  As she zeroed in, Hazel cocked a fist back and nailed Ashley dead-center in the face, effectively knocking her back onto the mat with a loud thud.

  Blood immediately began to pour down from her nose and down the sides of her face to where she laid nearly motionless. Her eyes were clamped shut, face scrunched in excruciating pain.

  It was quite possible Hazel had broken her nose. The referee dropped down beside her, slamming his hand down as the countdown commenced with the crowds assistance.

  Ten…

  Nine…

  Eight…

  Seven…

  Six…

  Five…

  Four…

  Three…

  A split-second was all it took for Fierce to take the entire arena by surprise when she hobbled up to her feet and once again charged towards Hazel with a feral growl, knocking her back against the cage with such force, her head bounced.

  Hazel swung a leg out in attempt to fend her off but Fierce latched on and pulled Hazel down instead, mounting her in a speedy fashion. Before Hazel could cover, Ashley slammed her fist into my girl’s face once, twice, three times...

  No.

  Loud gasps of shock resounded around me as dread and panic consumed me in an instant. I
was suddenly very worried this was about to take a gruesome turn.

  My stomach churned at the sight of Hazel’s semi-limp body, my fingers white-knuckling the cage as I belt out words of encouragement to her in fear.

  Above the chanting in the arena though, my voice was barely audible. All I could do was hope that their chanting would bring her back and spring her into action.

  The next fifteen seconds happened in slow motion. Fierce cocked her fist back again, ready to pummel into Hazel either until she submitted or until she knocked her out. My guess was the latter. Just as she was about to touch down, Hazel’s arm jerked upwards with unforeseen speed, catching Ashley around the neck to flip her onto her back.

  The crowd erupted in excitement and their chanting ensued once more.

  Hazel clamped her legs around Ashley and wailed on her with every bit of force she could muster. I counted six but she moved so quickly I’m sure I missed more than one, including the one that crashed into Fierce’s temple, knocking her out immediately.

  Her body went limp beneath Hazel and the ref sliced his arms through the air, calling the KO without question. He helped Hazel up onto her feet and threw her arm up in the air in time with the announcer’s voice blaring above the crowd, once again declaring her the victor for the evening.

  Ashley’s coach came barreling around the corner and unlocked the cage door, stormed in with purpose and falling to his knees next to her prone form.

  I moved to the edge of the steps, waiting for Hazel to complete her customary bow around the ring, but she didn't. The moment the referee released her from his grasp, she took off toward me like a bat out of hell and I threw my arms open in time to catch her, crushing her against me.

  “You scared the shit out of me.” I rasped out.

  “I know.” She panted, still catching her breath. “She got me good. Everything went white and although I could hear everything around me, I couldn't see a thing. I could barely move either.”

  Hearing her say that made me squeeze her even harder.

  “You got her though.”

  Hazel nodded into my neck, her entire body heaving in my arms.