Hold Book 3

by Jayne Blue

  When had she gotten that tank and those panties? They were new. Is that what she slept in now? Thoughts like that made it a rough morning when they got up and headed to the first gym. At least the gym would be a good distraction from thinking about her up against him last night.

  They rolled through an entire day on the bus pretty much without talking. She avoided him and he tried not to piss her off. His get under Cassidy’s skin plan was looking shittier every mile they drove.

  She talked about Dylan; she talked to Dylan, to G-Man, and Jessie, but with him it was ice cold. Miles and miles of ice cold.

  He was relieved when they finally got to Milwaukee. Milwaukee Fight Club was a decent sized gym. They would see a dozen more like it on this tour.

  Sunny was more or less in charge in terms of advertising. She was tweeting, Facebooking, and whatever else she did to spread the word of the 21C Fresh Blood Tour. G-Man, Craddock and Zeke were going town-to-town, fan by fan, that is how Meyer Thompson built 21C and he insisted his fighters do the same.

  They would start this day with a clinic. Each fighter would give lessons to the best fighters in the gym, all age groups, and of course to those who had paid a chunk of change. In the evening, they would do an exhibition match and then sign autographs for the public.

  The gym owner welcomed them and Craddock was surprised to see at least two-hundred young fighters there to learn. The clinics were not cheap, $150 for four hours of instruction.

  Craddock was impressed again with Meyer Thompson; he was building a feeder system for the 21C. There were hundreds of high school football teams to play on but finding a reputable MMA program as a young athlete was not as easy. Meyer aimed to change that and they were a part of it. He was surprised at how proud that made him.

  They parked the decked-out busses in the front of the gym and were about to get started. The kids were already clapping and asking them to sign stuff.

  Cassidy was quiet this morning but Craddock did not know if that was because it was awkward between them or because Dylan was there. Just when he thought she was determined to keep this distance, he felt a soft hand on his shoulder as they exited the bus. Damn he loved it when she touched him, even if it was only to ask him a question about Dylan.

  “Is it okay if I take Dylan exploring until the autograph session? I think he’d enjoy seeing sites.”

  “I think that’s great. Can you handle him all day?”

  “No problem. We will be back by three. He’s got a surprise for you during the autograph sessions.”

  “Here, take this for lunch.” He gave her one-hundred dollars.

  “That’s a little much don’t you think?”

  “You never know when he might find the best, most important, souvenir, miniature brewery replica made out of pure plastic. That shit ain’t cheap.”

  Cassidy laughed aloud and Craddock just drank in the site and sound of it. They had had all kinds of passion, hate, fights, and tears over the last few months. Seeing her laugh, hell, almost snort, it practically knocked him over. She was so damn beautiful and it could be so right between them. He just had to get there. He had to trust that she would see him again for what he was, not always all the hurt they had had between them.

  “You’re right; this actually might not be enough.” Cassidy was trying to put up the shield again, he saw.

  “Get some lunch too. And take cabs, I don’t want you wandering around a strange city and getting lost.”

  “It’s Milwaukee not Istanbul or something.” With that, she turned and found Dylan peeking into the Fight Club.

  “Looks pretty good, Craddock. See you this afternoon with my big surprise.” Dylan could barely contain himself.

  “Okay, don’t let Cassidy get into any trouble.” Craddock said as he gave Dylan a pat on the shoulder.

  “Nope, no one messes with our girl.” Dylan responded. Craddock saw Cassidy bristle at the phrase. Well if Craddock could not soften her up maybe Dylan’s charm could.

  “Let’s go.” She was all business again.

  “Bye.” Craddock watched them walk off. He realized he missed them both already, but duty called.

  The 21C had an advance team who had signed everyone up, organized the day and kept things running smoothly. The team did not go by bus though. They flew to each location, and Sunny was the only with them full-time, because of needing to be “on the ground”, as she said.

  “Well finally you got rid of the ball and chain.” Sunny appeared as if she had known he was thinking of her. She was hot as hell he had to admit.

  The students that had lined up early for classes clapped for the fighters as they entered, but Sunny was getting all the looks. High heels, short shorts, and mile long legs with that blonde hair flying attracted as much attention as he and G-Man did with their size and intimidating personas.

  Craddock noticed that Zeke seemed to be playing the Preacher’s Son role in this scenario. The All-American Boy was saying 'hi' to everyone and acting as if he was running for President.

  All the students would get a 90-minute session with each fighter. G-Man was teaching striking, Zeke, takedown defense, and Craddock submission holds. Jessie and Mace rotated in and out and assisted all three of the pros. Mace did not say much but he provided a good counter to demonstrate with.

  Craddock was surprised at the response from the young athletes.

  “When you took Gustavo down, why’d you use the double?”

  “He’s strong. I needed to cut him down with all I had.” Craddock answered.

  “What do you do more of the heavy bag of the punching bag?” Craddock answered, talking more than he could ever remember doing in one day, and then they got to work. He showed a few basic submission holds and then found himself channeling Whitey. He had the fighters try the moves he demonstrated, he walked among them, corrected form, pushed them to be more precise.

  “If you don’t finish it don’t waste all your energy trying for it. Squeeze.” He found himself saying as a fighter shot in with a move, and released too soon. That was pure Whitey.

  Before he knew it, three groups were through. Craddock had thought it might be a chore, teaching these clinics, but it turned out time flew by.

  Well what do you know? He realized he had theories, methods, strategies that he did not know he had. It had always been about fighting and training to reach his goals. Along the way, training for MMA had turned into a way of life. Craddock shocked himself with the deep thoughts the clinic had produced in him.

  Sunny shared some of the sessions on social media and hovered around all three fighters all day. He had no awareness of when she was snapping a shot but did notice Zeke smiling for her. Well, smile all you want Zeke. You have a long way to go to get to one-million followers on Instagram for @FightingFlynn. He had to give it to Sunny for that one. He was going to stay ahead of Zeke on social media just on principle, dammit.

  They showered and would do two hours of autographs. Then, after that, an exhibition in the evening. Craddock noticed that G-Man set up a table with pictures, t-shirts, and many images of his bullet-shaped head. That's what happens when you get to G-Man’s rung, Craddock figured. You had more merch.

  Craddock checked it out and The Preacher’s Son too, had pictures, t-shirts, and paraphernalia with his face and name. Damn. That’s what happens when your daddy is a mega-church preacher. Well, whatever.

  Craddock had his pictures to sign, thanks to 21C but that was about it. His display was weak compared to the other two. What did he know from selling crap with his picture on it? Well, fuck it; they would have to be happy with a picture.

  It was hard to focus on his less than stellar autograph table when Cassidy and Dylan were still out and about. He started to type in a text to see what they were up to and when they walked in.

  Dylan had a handcart with three giant boxes; Cassidy too was loaded down with a huge box.

  “What the hell did you buy; I was kidding about buying all the souvenirs in Milwaukee.”
>
  “These aren’t souvenirs little brother.” Dylan said and hoisted a box into Craddock’s arms.

  “Well?” Craddock had no idea what they were up to.

  “Open it!” Dylan commanded. Cassidy struggled with the box she had and put it on his autograph table. He would have helped her if it were not for the box thrust in his own hands.

  “Jeez, fine.” Craddock put his box down and tore the tape off.

  Inside was a black t-shirt, in old-fashioned lettering it said “The Fighting Flynn.” Underneath was a crest of some sort. On the back, his image in silhouette and Craddock Flynn written above it. He had to admit it was fucking cool. It looked... what’s the word? Vintage? Like an old-time t-shirt from the seventies or something.

  “Who made this? Cassidy?”

  “No, not me.” Craddock looked again at Dylan who was clearly about to explode.

  “Okay spill it,” Craddock said.

  “Mom made them.” A huge smile lit up Dylan’s face.

  “What?”

  Dylan pulled a piece of lined notebook paper out of the back pocket of his jeans. He always had various papers, stubs, trinkets and hoarded items on his person. He handed to the paper to Craddock. Craddock unfolded it.

  There, in his mother’s hand, were the drawings, front and back, just like the t-shirt. She had even signed the sketches she had made. Craddock knew she doodled from time to time. But to see this, the woman who was too nervous to watch him fight, it was too much. Craddock felt his throat tighten and his eyes well up. Dammit.

  “When I showed Cassidy she did the same thing, and tell him what you said Cassidy, tell him.”

  Craddock tried to blink back the tears and not start bawling like a baby at the sight of his mother’s writing and sketches. He could almost see her doing it at their old kitchen table.

  “Uh, I said, we have our merch.” Cassidy looked up at him.

  She had thought of this. She helped Dylan bring him this message from his mother. He had thought she was in his heart already. He had underestimated how deeply he now realized.

  “We have our merch!” Dylan echoed Cassidy and he opened his button down shirt to reveal a XXL version of The Fighting Flynn shirt. Then he stepped forward and grabbed Cassidy and Craddock in a three-way hug. Cassidy did not shrink from it as Dylan squeezed all three together.

  “I don’t have the words.” He whispered in her ear.

  “Your mom was proud of you, now everyone will know.” Craddock planted a quick kiss on the top of her head.

  Dylan let go and they all separated.

  “Cassidy let’s set up the table, enough hugging it out.” Dylan quoted from another of the shows he watched.

  “Yes sir!” Cassidy made herself busy with Dylan by putting out the shirts.

  “Oh and that’s the Flynn Coat of Arms she drew, we looked it up!” Dylan explained as they stacked the stuff.

  “Well that’s bad ass Dylan.”

  “Totally bad ass.” Dylan agreed. A few minutes later and Fighting Flynn merchandise was on display at Craddock’s table, from t-shirts, to bumper stickers, to his picture. Thanks to Cassidy, Dylan and his mother in heaven, his table was decked out better than those of his fellow fighters. No need for a preacher when you had a Flynn in heaven on your side. Craddock looked up and mouthed, “Thanks mom.”

  Cassidy

  It was not lust. It was pure love. The way Craddock reacted to the shirts, the emotion she saw in him at his mother’s gesture and how he was overwhelmed by Dylan’s surprise, she had to be honest with herself - it opened her heart again to him.

  Really? Cassidy Parker tried to shake those thoughts away. She had been on the road with him not even a few days and she was already fooled into believing Craddock Flynn would not rip her guts out.

  It terrified her actually. She should not trust him with her heart. She could not.

  Yet, there he was signing autographs, being patient with questions and being unselfish with Dylan. Sometimes he acted as if he was a god on earth, he sure looked it, and other times, like today he was all too human.

  She knew that the marketing woman saw money and sex when she looked at Craddock. She watched as Sunny took pictures, tweeted, she saw, G-Man got some attention but it was Zeke and Craddock she focused on. Cassidy did not trust her. She worried for Craddock and Zeke with this woman around. Did she have their best interest at heart or 21C or her own?

  “Cass, come over here a second.” Zeke had called her over. Dylan was busy fetching t-shirts for Craddock’s next fan and Zeke’s line had thinned a bit. He still was not as much a draw as the other two. He would be, eventually, she had no doubt. The man was also damned handsome and as stingy as Craddock was with a smile, Zeke used them as a weapon.

  “What’s up Zeke?” He turned his back on his line-up of autograph seekers. His smile at them had turned into a grimace for her. Something was definitely wrong.

  “You know that kink I get?” Not so long ago Zeke and she knew each other much more intimately than they did now. It was weird in a way stepping back from that. They had always shared an easy physical comfort around one another but now she felt like any fighter she touched would turn her world into drama. 'Hands off' ought to be her motto, she realized. She also resented having to check her every reaction, touch and laugh because it would piss off someone.

  “Below my neck.” Zeke pointed to a spot that had been particularly troublesome after his injury.

  “Gotcha,” Cassidy did not think twice. When Zeke was recovering from his concussion, courtesy Craddock Flynn, she had helped him with this kink a hundred times.

  “Stand up,” she ordered.

  Zeke stood up and she focused on easing the painful spot in his neck that plagued him when he sat too long. He lowered his head, back to her, and she pushed a knot that gave him trouble between his shoulder blades. She felt it move under her palm.

  “Ah, thank you, thank you, thank you.” Zeke rolled his head from side to side.

  “You’re welcome.” She stepped away from his table, but before she got too far, he grabbed her hand and kissed it.

  “Magic hands.” He winked, but not at her; it was to Sunny who seemed to be everywhere today.

  Shit. Cassidy grabbed her hand free and got out of there.

  As usual, Craddock saw the whole thing. God knows what he was thinking, but then she realized who cared? She was not going to be tiptoeing around. He had put her in this situation, forced her to be on this tour so he would have to deal with it. Zeke included.

  They finished out the time with fans and Cassidy remained in the background.

  After the autograph signing Zeke, G-Man, Craddock, and Jessie were fighting as Craddock explained; it was an exhibition, so no real blows, no submissions, just glorified sparring.

  Zeke went with Jessie and G-Man with Craddock.

  Zeke took Jessie down and let him up and at the end of their match, he did that thing where he pointed a glove at her. Why the hell is he still doing that?

  He bounded out of the ring and came over to her.

  As he did, Craddock entered the ring to "The Engine Room", his song. Even Dylan was allowed in his corner since this was a low-stress event. No real hitting.

  “Why did you point at me?” She was pissed.

  “Force of habit.” Zeke smiled at her, and seemed totally unaware that she was so angry.

  “Can you stop it?”

  “Why? Boyfriend doesn’t like it?” Zeke was goading her; it was a side of him she did not like.

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Oh, sorry. The boss doesn’t like it?” His words revealing the hurt she had done to him. The hurt that was still there despite his offers of friendship.

  “Zeke you’re being an ass.”

  “Okay, okay, no more pointing.”

  “And the cracks about Craddock?” She did not want this to become a pattern with him.

  “No promises there love.” Zeke turned put an arm around her and smiled at a
camera.

  She slipped out from under his arm and walked over to Craddock’s corner. All of a sudden, there was way less drama in the Fighting Flynn camp.

  The scene with Zeke began to fade from her memory as G-Man and Craddock did their thing. It was incredible to view. The two man were massive, G-Man more bulky, Craddock a little leaner.

  They punched, took each other down, and worked up a sweat. Seeing the muscled specimen that Craddock was had her feeling some type of way she realized, and she shifted in her metal folding chair. She watched as his ripped abs worked in concert with his powerful arms. The two men at the peak of physical perfection were mesmerizing and thank god, they were not going at it for real. That would be bloody.

  Cassidy noticed Craddock’s hair was longer than when they were together, she imagined herself running her fingers through it and promptly stopped herself.

  The day’s events had thawed something in Cassidy. It was going to be harder than ever to keep Craddock from knowing it.

  In the process of putting up her armor against him, she had also tried to deny his capacity for love. Craddock had deep love for Dylan, his mother, even the guys at the gym. Her defense had been to think of him as all bad and he just was not. There was a good man inside the Fighting Flynn, but could it win over the bad boy?

  The exhibition ended and Dylan helped her load up what was left of the t-shirts. They had sold out all but a few.

  “Can we order more for our next stop Cassidy?” Dylan asked her. She had done the logistics of having the shirts made but Dylan had done incredibly well making change for customers and actually selling them tonight.

  “We sure can. Grab my laptop from the bus and we’ll do it right now!” Craddock and the rest of the fighters were wrapping things up. Wifi was okay on the bus, but if they were going to get shirts at the next stop, they would need to get the order in. Craddock had sold 200 hundred shirts. A glance as the tables for G-Man and Zeke revealed they sold a lot but not quite as much as The Fighting Flynn. She felt a little spike of pride at that.

  “So which one of them are you actually with?”

  Cassidy was startled out of her shirt inventory check by Sunny’s question. The two had not spoken since Cassidy had told her to back off Dylan and social media.