by Alexa Davis
I showered and dressed before going out to make the coffee and found Dad in the kitchen. As soon as I saw him, I had a visual of him and Kevin’s mother together. It made me sick to my stomach. I forced myself to return his smile.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” He took my mug out of the cabinet and poured me a cup of the fresh-brewed coffee. “How was the masquerade ball last night? Did this Ethan turn out to be Prince Charming?”
“Actually,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee and a seat at the table. “He turned out to be Nick’s brother.”
“Nick? Storelli?”
“Yeah, small world, huh?”
“I can’t believe it. He seems so…I don’t know, they just seem so different. You didn’t have any idea?”
“No. Ethan’s last name is Grant. Nick uses his mother’s maiden name. I was surprised, but once I found out, I wondered how I hadn’t noticed the strong resemblance between them.”
He took a seat at the table with his coffee, too. “You’re not going to let that keep you from seeing Ethan, are you? He seems like such a nice young man. Perfect for you.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. I was angry with him and suddenly realized that I was spoiling for a fight. “And, Nick isn’t because he’s a fighter, right?”
He made a face. “I don’t have to tell you that these boys are all players, Karli. Nick Storelli is full of himself and doesn’t go anywhere that women don’t flock around him. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Why is it that women can’t flock around a man and that man leave them alone? I mean, you were a famous fighter in your day, Dad. You weren’t a player, were you?”
“We’re not really talking about me. Do you want some breakfast, honey?”
“I want you to answer my question. Were you a player?”
“Yeah, I was. But I was single and I never led women to believe it would be anything but a one-night stand.” My stomach rolled at the very idea of my father as a sexual being, but I pushed on.
“Did you ever worry that one would get pregnant and you’d be saddled with another kid?”
“I told you not to talk about yourself that way. I wasn’t ‘saddled’ with anything. I had the privilege of being your father.”
My heart thawed slightly. “Thanks, Dad, but seriously, didn’t you worry about the possibility?”
“Well, if you must know, I used protection.”
“Condoms?”
“Karli, what is this about? You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“Oh, hell no! I’m smarter than that, Dad. But, we were talking about you.”
“Yeah, I used condoms.” He got up and turned his back to me to me. “You want toast?”
“No thanks. I don’t have an appetite today.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
NICK
I was ushered into the back door of the event center by a bunch of guys who were bigger than me. The place was packed already with a roaring crowd, press, and cameras. This was an annual event that they put on for Halloween.
I was in it last year, but I wasn’t a headliner like I was this time. I was fighting a retired fighter, but he went out on top as a heavy weight champion and had only retired a year earlier. The press was saying that how I do tonight might indicate how I would do in my own title fight in less than two months.
I’d watched this guy’s fights over and over. I memorized every one of his moves and felt like I was ready. I wasn’t nervous at all about the fight, but the idea of being watched on Pay-Per-View by millions made me a little nervous.
It was compounded by the fact that I’d woken up after a restless night with anxiety filling my chest over what happened with Karli. Our talk had put any hopes I had of getting together with her to rest for good, and it was killing me.
This was the first time I had ever imagined a future with a woman and I’d been shot down. I felt like my heart was breaking and that was an entirely unfamiliar feeling for me. The worst part was that it was not for something I had done, but for something she thought I might or might not do in the future. It wasn’t fair and I knew eventually all of this hurt and anxiety would turn into anger. I was almost looking forward to it, hoping the anger would be easier because this just made me feel pathetic and I hated that.
I was led to the locker room, and the atmosphere inside there was almost as explosive as the one out front. It was filled with fighters and trainers. I said hello to Jonah and a few other guys as I made my way to the back where I could see the top of Charlie’s head. I passed Kevin on the way. He was sitting on a bench, staring at a spot on the wall.
“Hey, buddy; you okay?”
He looked up at me and for a few seconds he looked like he was trying to remember who I was. “Nick…yeah, I’m okay. Did Karli tell you?”
I glanced over at Charlie. He was busy chatting up another trainer, so I sat down next to the kid. “Did Karli tell me what?”
“That she might be my sister; what else?”
“Excuse me?”
“Shit. She didn’t tell you, did she?”
I laughed nervously. “No, she didn’t tell me anything remotely close to that.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry, man. I’m a mess.”
“So…what makes you think that Charlie might be your father?”
“I eavesdropped on a phone conversation he was having with my mom and it made me remember something I saw years ago. I don’t want to believe it, you know? I mean, nobody wants to believe their mother is a cheater.”
And, I’d just bet hearing her father might be one wasn’t sitting well with the girl who didn’t want to be with a player. Shit. I was struck with the urge to go find her and make sure she was okay. But that wasn’t my place…was it? As a matter of fact, by now it might be my brother’s place.
I hadn’t talked to Ethan since I saw him leave with Karli last night. My tossing and turning had been due mostly to images in my head of what they’d done in the back of that limo on the way home. I have no idea if my brother gets it on with his dates in the back of a limo, but it was definitely something I might do.
“Nick!” Speak of the devil, Charlie was yelling at me. I looked up and he was waving me over.
“I better go see what he wants. You’re going to be okay no matter how this turns out, all right?” Kevin nodded. “I mean it. Get this out of your head before you go out there and get the shit beat out of you by some guy with a clear head.” My inner voice said, “Look who’s talking.”
“I will. Thanks, Nick.”
I clapped him on the back and then went over to where Charlie was. We spent a half an hour talking strategy before we heard the tempo of the music out front change and Charlie pressed against his ear monitor and then said, “Mikey’s up; I have to go out there.”
“Okay, tell him I said good luck.”
Mikey was a first-year fighter that Charlie had taken on as a favor, kind of like me. But unfortunately, Mikey was turning out to be more brawn than brain and I had a feeling he was going to get hurt before he got it through his head that this wasn’t all about just trying to beat the snot out of your opponent. From the look on Charlie’s face, he had the same concerns. His lips were tight as he went out through the locker room door.
After he was gone, I got changed and went through my warm-up and stretching routine and then I found a quiet corner and sat back and closed my eyes. I was up last and the waiting was only making me more anxious. I sat there and tried to call up the memories of the meditation seminars I’d taken a few years ago to try and deal with the anger I had toward my father. I concentrated on my breathing and tried to shut out all of the external noise, as well as the internal chaos. I was not sure if it worked, or if I actually fell asleep, but the next thing I knew, Charlie was hollering at me again. It was show time.
Charlie helped me wrap my hands and feet and put on my green, satin robe that said, “Tricky Nicky Storelli” on the back. As I followed him out the door, I heard them playing “Hurt” by Johnny Cash. I smiled.
It was my challenger Vic’s song. The guy loved Johnny Cash and I’d never seen him in anything other than black from head to toe.
There was a pause in the music and then the announcer loudly said, “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome three-time heavyweight champion, Vic Mendez!” The crowd roared and a lot of them got to their feet as Vic was led down the row between the seats and into the octagon. The music was loud, the crowd was even louder, and the atmosphere was pure electricity.
I slipped my hood on and stepped in between two gigantic bodyguards just as my song, “Go Hard or Go Home” by Wiz Khalifa came on. Charlie smacked my butt and left me at the door. The announcer introduced him as he jogged toward the octagon and then it was my turn. “Ladies and gents, please welcome our hometown boy, ‘Tricky Nicky Storelli!’ He’s here to challenge Vic Mendez only two months before his own title fight in December.”
The crowd was roaring and I tried to block everything out except the pictures in my head of Mendez’s fights and his signature moves. I meant to win this fight today and if I lost, it wasn’t going to be because I had too much extraneous crap inside of my head. The door to the octagon was opened and I was ushered into it.
I was thankful for the bright lights focused on the octagon, because at least that way I couldn’t see faces in the crowd. I was afraid if I saw Karli’s pretty face, the thin string I was holding onto would snap.
After the announcer finished listing out both mine and Mendez’s accomplishments, the ref called us to the center of the ring and gave us his spiel. We had both heard it a thousand times before, but we pretended to listen until he said, “Okay, gentlemen, I want a fair fight.”
Vic and I bumped gloves, and he smiled at me. I wasn’t up to a smile. I tried, but I think it may have come out as more of a grimace. I went over to where Charlie was and sat down. He popped my mouth guard into my mouth and rubbed my shoulders as he talked.
I tried to process it all. This past couple of weeks, I’d accepted that Charlie had some outstanding insights, and if all I was ever going to have was my career, I was going to be the best damned fighter that the MMA ever saw.
The card girl walked across the octagon with her “Round One” sign held up high. She was wearing a bikini and six inch heels, and her body was tight enough to snap a quarter off of, but she didn’t hold any interest for me. It was so fucking weird to want only one woman. It was completely foreign and would take a hell of a lot of getting used to.
Charlie nudged my shoulder, and I stood up. The buzzer rang and I flew out like a hurricane. I was throwing punches before Mendez even met me in the center. It was his move, and I wanted to beat him to it.
He stepped right into one of my right hooks. It caught him square on the chin, but he immediately shook it off. I aimed for his torso then, and my fists slammed into his hard body over and over as he ducked low and swept out his feet, trying to connect with my legs and take me down.
I wasn’t going down. If I went down on the ground with this man, I’d lose. I moved fast so that only the edge of his foot connected with one of my legs. It knocked me off balance slightly, but I caught myself before I went down.
I turned slightly, trying to fake a retreat. It worked and once again, I caught him off guard. I used my leg this time. I swung around with a round-house and caught him hard on his upper thigh. He stumbled back and reached out for me. I jumped back again and waited to see if he was going to go down, but he didn’t. I went back at him with my fists and as soon as I was within reach, his big fist caught me on the side of my face.
It knocked me backward and while I was trying to regain my balance, Mendez wrapped me up in a clinch and pushed until my back was up against the mesh and then drove a heavy knee into my side. I pounded his sides with my fists as he tried to push my body down hard onto that knee.
As he pulled, he moved his body back slightly, just enough for me to bring my right arm up and catch him in an uppercut to his chin. It seemed to stun him for a few seconds. I had to use all my strength to take ahold of the big son of a bitch and spin him around. He was fifteen years older than me, but his body was rock solid still and he hadn’t lost any of his moves.
I managed to get his back into the mesh, and for the next few minutes, I was in charge. I held him there and we struggled until I saw the referee approaching us to the left. Just before he got there, Mendez brought his elbow up and it collided hard with my cheekbone. It hurt like a fucking bitch and I felt my skin split open and blood begin to trickle down my face. The ref broke us up just as the buzzer sounded. Fuck.
I sat down on the bench and Charlie poured Gatorade into my mouth before he said a word. Then he took care of the cut on my face and said, “You’re doing good, kid. Just stay on your feet. You’re quick, and those punches are deadly.”
Once again, I was surprised by how much Charlie’s praise actually meant to me. I watched through blurry eyes as the card girl came around with the Round #2 card. I stood up and wobbled slightly before catching myself just as the buzzer sounded.
I went back out fast and with a vengeance. I wanted this fight over. The crowd was deafening, but it only registered every now and then.
Mendez came out punching this time. A couple of them connected, but not hard. I deflected most of them and then reached out quickly and grabbed his big head on either side of his ears. In one, big motion, I brought up my knee and brought down his head. Blood and sweat blew out across the mats and soaked my leg. I pounded his face again and again before he found his strength and pushed me back hard with both hands. It wouldn’t have taken me down, but I slipped in his fucking blood.
As soon as I was down, his big foot caught me on the side of the head. I saw stars. For several seconds, I was disoriented and slightly confused. I saw his foot coming back at me and I struggled quickly to my feet. As soon as I was up, he threw a punch. I deflected it, but then he threw another and another. I had to walk backwards, slipping and sliding in the blood and sweat until once again, I felt my back up against the mesh.
I was dizzy, but I knew if he beat on me much more, I was going down. I waited until he looked like he thought he had me until I threw out a hard right. He caught it, but it gave me the time and leverage I needed to bring up my leg and kick him in the stomach. He doubled over and then fell back.
I moved fast, straddling him and pounding his head into the floor. He brought his hands up and tried to use them to push me off. I changed strategies and started pounding his ears with my fists. He moved his arms to the sides of his face and covered them. I just used those massive muscles, pounding them into his head until the buzzer sounded again.
I climbed off of him and looked down. He looked completely out of it. I reached my hand down, but he just looked at it. Charlie was yelling at me, so I went to my corner and let Vic’s trainer help him up off the floor. It’s a good thing the trainer was a big guy because the trainer had to practically carry him back to his corner. I almost felt bad, but then Charlie started messing with the slice on my cheek again. I wondered if it was going to scar.
When the third round started, Mendez looked less confident than he did before. I went in fast again, but this time I began circling low. Vic’s trainer was yelling at him that I wanted to take the fight to the ground. Nothing was further from the truth.
Vic and I circled each other until he finally struck out at me. I ducked and as soon as I did, he grabbed for my legs. I jumped back out of his reach and his momentum threw him forward onto the mat.
The crowd was screaming at me to go down on top of him. I didn’t. I stepped back and waited for him to heave his big ass body up off the ground. Once he did, I was ready. I started throwing punches one after the other. I was relentless and the crowd was chanting my name and telling me to take him down.
Mendez managed to grab hold of one of my biceps and used it to drop me to the mat. He came down on top of me, and I tried to scramble out from underneath him. He went to straddle me, but I reached up and put my hands on the back of hi
s thick neck and held on tightly as I lifted my legs and wrapped them around him. I used the strength in my lower body to flip us so that I was on top.
Mendez was twisting like a snake and one of his arms was trapped underneath his heavy body. I clamped my legs down like a vice and he grunted loudly in pain. I did it again and again until finally I watched his free arm come up off the mats about two inches and then drop down. He was tapping out.
I just beat the fucking heavy weight champion. I’ll be damned.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, your champion, Tricky Nicky Storelli!” The ref held up my arm and turned me in a circle.
The crowd was wild and my heart was hammering in my chest and my vision was blurred to the point of blindness, but I was smiling from ear to ear. I’d just done what no other fighter had done in three fucking years, including the one I was fighting for the title in December. He won his title after Vic retired in a fight between him and the other top contender. But he’d never beaten Vic.
In less than two months, I could be what I’ve dreamt of for the past six years, what I’ve nearly killed myself for some days: the heavy weight champion. The only way it would be better would be if I could hope that Karli would be there when I won.
As Charlie’s voice and the roar of the crowd buzzed in my ears, I had an epiphany. I finally realized what it was about Karli that I couldn’t let go of.
Before I met her, I had never been happy. I had thought I was. I was a party animal with a different woman in my bed any time I wanted one. I never had to worry or think about money, and my face and body graced every building in town. I used to tell myself I had everything that a man could want…and then I met Karli and realized that what I wanted was someone to be there for me, finally.
That’s what I never had, not growing up and not even after I was grown. I never had someone to go home to or someone to tell my problems to or share my victories with. I didn’t even realize how badly I wanted that until I met Karli. Now, I wanted it so badly that I craved it like a drug. I craved her. And in that moment, I made a promise to myself: I wasn’t giving up. Karli thought I was a player. She thought I was going to break her heart. Somehow, I had to prove to her that she was wrong.