by Hadley Quinn
“I think you should at least give it a try, Cole,” Leah said as she approached. “You’ve got a strong mind, the strongest I know, and I feel that you’ll handle it just fine. Start training yourself to fight how you used to enjoy it. Take back the control again. I’ll make you a deal. You do the fight, I’ll become a regular at the gym. It will fucking kill me, but I’ll do it.”
Cole barely smiled. “Why don’t you like to work out?” He’d noticed that the first time she’d come with him. She only did small stuff and never broke a sweat.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged again. “Guess I feel a little insecure. And Van’s gym over in Middletown is worse. It’s bigger, a lot more people.”
“You don’t like it there?”
“I like it here better, even though that gym is a lot nicer than this one. He enjoys working there, but I know he misses this place.” Cole didn’t respond as he slipped his gloves on. He was about to hit his workout pretty hard when she added, “I’ll go with you to the fight. And you’ll have Mickey in your corner; you’ll be okay.”
She walked away for the treadmills on the other side of the gym, and just as he was going to beat the shit out of the bag, Mickey passed by and said, “Just a light workout, son. You don’t wanna overdo it when you’ve got a fight later tonight.”
Smug bastard.
Chapter Eighteen
“Hey, you’re zoning out.”
Cole looked up from the floor where he was sitting against a wall of old metal lockers. He hadn’t realized Leah had walked into the room.
“I hope it’s for good reasons,” she added. Then she looked around the empty locker room and frowned. “Where’s Mickey? Or…anyone else for that matter.”
Cole sighed and pulled himself off the floor to a standing position. He was in just a pair of sparring shorts and he didn’t miss Leah’s eyes travel over his skin and then stop at his face, waiting for a response.
“I sent them all away.”
“Why?”
“Because…I like to be alone.”
Mickey had already taped his hands so he grabbed his gloves from the bench and slid them on.
“Shouldn’t you be, like, covered in clothes and stuff?” she asked. “Like…sweats and sweatshirt? To keep yourself warm?”
He shrugged. Yeah, that would have been ideal. But just the idea of getting ready for this fight was already causing him an array of mixed feelings.
Mickey entered and said, “You’re up, kid. Knock ‘em dead.”
Wrong choice of words.
“I’ll, uh, wait right out here,” Mickey added, glancing between Leah and Cole.
Leah faced Cole again and sighed. “You’ll be okay. Just focus on the basics with this guy. It’s not life or death, just beat him with the basics.”
He was somewhat amused by her coaching. “How often were you going to the gym with Van?” he asked.
She grinned and then laughed. “Um, I went several times. But I never hear the life or death part, I made that up just for you.”
He appreciated that she was trying to keep it lighthearted. “Yeah, well, I’ll try and remember that the second this guy pushes the right button. Or…wrong button I guess.”
She observed him for a moment. “Is that what it is? Something triggers a memory?”
He barely nodded. “Yeah, something like that. For some reason I’ve become like a machine when it comes to certain things in my life. I go into auto mode. It’s like I’ve been de-humanized somehow; like there’s a part of me that doesn’t work according to choice but only instinct.”
She paused for several seconds as she studied him sympathetically. “And that’s what worries you,” she stated softly.
He didn’t respond, but Mickey popped his head into the room and said, “Come on, princess. We’ll finish your hair and makeup later on. Get yer ass out here.” Then he disappeared again.
It was hard not to laugh at that.
“It’s good to see you smile,” Leah told him as he headed for the exit. “I wish it would happen more often.”
He paused, not knowing what to say, but Leah stepped toward him and kissed him on the mouth.
“Good luck, big gorilla. You’ll be fine.”
He watched her leave as he paused again, not sure of how he felt about her putting lips on him like that. He was getting the feeling that she was kind of into him, and because he’d obviously hurt Julia’s feelings by not taking it very serious the first time, he tried to be more aware of it with Leah.
And Jesus, she was Van’s sister. Like he really needed that complication in his life, too!
“I’m gonna have to fee you out a little higher priced next time,” Mickey said, opening the door for him. “If coaxing a newborn deer is what I gotta do each time, I need to get paid more.”
Cole followed Mickey out of the locker room. He didn’t have time for a reply because the fight was announced as soon as he stepped out. He tried to let his mind absorb the music that introduced him, allowing it to put some excitement into his bones instead of dread. The music worked. He was starting to feel the love again, the adrenaline, and quite possibly the start to connecting with the sport the way he should again.
Mickey was giving him some coaching as they traveled to the octagon, and as soon as he stepped into the cage, he saw almost two rows of familiar faces in the audience. Not only were Cody and Leah there, but so were Van and Dani, Paul and Marnie, and most of the guys from the Divehouse and The Block.
He was actually surprised.
“What the hell is this?” he asked Mickey.
“What the hell is what?”
“This,” Cole motioned with his head. “All the people here.”
“You think you were gonna fight a private fight?”
Cole sighed, but Mickey seemed to realize what he meant.
“Come on, kid. They’re here to support you. Everyone has been dying to see you in a match. All these guys from the gym…they look up to you. I know we’re just getting you back into it, but recognize a good opportunity when you see it. These people are here for you. They care about you. They want to see you do good. They want you to succeed. You winning this match is what they expect, but I know you got other shit to work through, too. And I know you can do it, Cole. You love this sport. Take it back, okay? Prove to yourself that you can enjoy the competition again.”
Mickey had a few words with the ref but Cole had to lock himself into a safe zone as soon as he could. He heard his name several times, familiar voices and such. It was nothing like the words that had been thrown at him underground, so maybe he really could get through this easy enough.
Mind over matter, he repeated to himself several times.
For the first time, he looked over at his opponent on the opposite side. Antonio Mendoza. He didn’t really care who he was or what he looked like—it didn’t matter—but the guy was staring him down with a look that plainly stated that he wanted to tear him up.
Cole looked away—it was for his opponent’s own good—but an expected “pussy” taunting came from the guy, which Cole ignored.
He took a deep breath and looked around the small arena. It wasn’t the biggest facility but it wasn’t bad at all. Much nicer than the basements and dirt streets he’d fought in. If he could just train his thoughts to focus on the difference, maybe he could get through it without any issues.
Cole was asked to step forward and meet his opponent in the center while the referee went through the mandatory list of rules. Antonio insisted on staring him down with a smug smile on his face the entire time, so Cole kept his eyes locked on him without even blinking.
And then the bell rang.
The cheers and yelling…it was all familiar to him. But he’d numbed himself to the words, the voices, the gestures so many times…it was all just noise to him anymore.
Mickey had told him to at least give this guy a couple minutes of a fight, but allowing that was just asking for trouble and Cole didn’t know if he could obl
ige. The second Antonio came at him with an aggressive attack, Cole clocked him one good time right in the side of the face. He stumbled a few steps and then dropped to his knees before falling forward onto his face.
Lights out.
The noise surrounding him wavered a bit. Normally it would only grow louder, chants and cheers to encourage someone’s demise. But this crowd was a mix of cheers and boos in equal measure. Obviously Cole had disappointed a lot of people that had come for a good fight.
“Well that’s not really what I was expecting,” Mickey said after Cole was declared winner by knockout. He glanced around with his hands out and muttered, “What the fuck am I supposed to do? Nothing to clean up, no sweat to wipe up…”
“Sorry,” Cole answered. He wasn’t really sure if he was or not, but Mickey did look a bit lost at the moment.
Mickey sighed and then chuckled. “What am I gonna do with you, kid?”
Before Cole could answer, Antonio Mendoza’s coach came over to their corner, looking pretty livid.
“You told me a good fight,” he pointed at Mickey. “A good fight. Not some cheap fucking sucker punch!”
“Sucker punch?” Cole scoffed. Now that was seriously offensive. He hit that guy fair and square. That asshole walked into his fist with his ego first.
“Davey, I can’t apologize for how good my guys are,” Mickey shook his head. “And I didn’t realize your guy would walk right into a left hook like that.”
Davey didn’t like hearing that, but he glanced back at Antonio, who was still coming around on his corner stool. Then he looked at Mickey and said, “I want this crowd to at least have something to be here for.”
Mickey raised his eyebrows. “You requested someone good and you got it. Book another match.”
“Too scared to accept a challenge?” Davey taunted him.
Mickey laughed and pointed at Cole. “You don’t have anyone that can beat this guy. I came here knowing that. Now you want to tally another loss?”
“Bruno Mendoza,” the guy pointed to the opposite corner. Both Cole and Mickey followed his gesture. With Antonio was another tough looking brute, obviously another fighter. “Tony’s brother,” Davey smiled.
Bruno noticed that they were looking his way and he narrowed his eyes at Cole—with a wickedly sick smile that spoke a thousand words. The first brother had wanted to tear him apart; obviously this guy wanted Cole to suffer a thousand painful deaths.
“Not gonna happen,” Mickey said. “End of discussion.”
Davey muttered some choice words before he stomped away, but Mickey kept himself busy gathering their things.
Cole was about to step out of the octagon with his coach but something alerted his attention to turn around. The environment changed around him; the mood shifted to excitement and alarm. Just as Cole was aware of this, and Mickey delivered his famous “Christ Almighty!” expression, a set of iron hands grabbed Cole and threw him to the middle of the octagon.
Apparently Bruno Mendoza wanted a fight and was going to make it happen on his own.
Cole wasn’t necessarily incapacitated with that move, but the guy was over him in a second and delivered a solid punch to his face. He blocked the next one and delivered a forearm to Bruno’s neck, using his legs to flip the guy over onto his back. Cole throttled him with rights and lefts, extremely pissed off that this guy had tried to get a cheap start on him.
Then Cole did something he knew could be a big mistake. Not for himself, but for Mendoza.
He let him up.
At first there was confusion all over the guy’s face as Cole stopped punching the shit out of him and got to his feet, separating himself from Bruno by a few yards. But the fury returned pretty quickly as he realized that Cole was giving him the ultimate “fuck you” by letting him up at this point.
Well, if they wanted a fight that lasted longer than ten seconds, Cole could grant that wish right now. He couldn’t promise anyone’s wellbeing, though.
Mendoza stood, eyeing Cole the entire time. “Is that how it’s gonna be, huh?”
Mickey was shouting instructions at him but Cole couldn’t piece anything in particular together. He was focused on Bruno and the pure hatred in his eyes.
He was also trying to keep himself from going into autopilot. He was literally willing himself to stay in a happier place. He did not want to sink into vague memories of his parents and realities he wasn’t quite sure of. Every fight since had been a battle with himself to forget the past; a chance to fix something that he felt needed fixing.
But that was something he could never seem to change.
Mendoza was in his face again, keeping him busy blocking a series of strikes to his upper body. Cole took one step back as his opponent tried for a left to his face, and when it missed, he used the opportunity to apply a push kick to his chest to distance Mendoza so he could set himself up for a counter attack. He followed it up with a wicked roundhouse to the side of Mendoza’s face, dazing him to his knees, and finished it off with a knee that sent him to the floor.
Cole didn’t waste a second to capitalize. He really wanted this fucker to suffer for being such an arrogant douche. He put him in a painful hammerlock to shove him face down. He could have easily locked him in a guillotine and forced him to pass out, but Cole felt a little more pain was deserved this time.
He switched him into an armbar, causing Mendoza to cry out in pain.
“I’m about to break your fucking arm,” he told him. “You’ve got five seconds to make a decision.” Cole counted down silently from five, each second applying more pressure to the guy’s elbow.
When he got to count two, Mendoza tapped out.
Cole barely waited for the winner to be announced. As soon as he was, he grabbed a towel and headed for the locker room. He felt like he was close to losing control again and it wasn’t pleasant. He sat down on a bench and focused on his breathing, filling his head with positive thoughts to block out the negative ones.
It wasn’t happening. He needed to get outside, to get some air. He grabbed his things and brushed by Mickey on his way out, tuning out anything the old man was saying to him.
Technically savvy grappler. Perfect form. Quick and lethal. Fearless. Brilliantly tactical…
All the things that had been said about him over the years kept running through his head, but no one understood that all of those things came easy to him. Nobody realized that he didn’t even have to think about the things that most fighters did. All he did was follow his instincts and let his training take over.
He punched a window on his way past an old, beaten down building, shattering it to match the other windows along the brick wall.
What they didn’t know was how hard it was to control his anger when he hit his breaking point.
Chapter Nineteen
“Do you always incite trouble like last night?” Leah asked when she came out of the bedroom the next morning.
Cole was awake, sitting on the couch with a file spread over the coffee table. He discreetly slid the papers together before she could see and tucked them back in the folder as she sat on the opposite couch.
“Hey, I beg to differ on that one,” he replied.
She nodded to his forehead. “Does that feel okay?”
Barely touching the cut above his eyebrow, he shrugged. “Forgot it was even there.”
“It’s a little bruised around it now,” she observed.
“It happens.”
“And what the hell happened to your hand?” she gasped, looking down at it with shock.
He glanced at his knuckles and shrugged it off. “Cut it on some glass.”
He stood and made his way to the bedroom while it wasn’t occupied. After throwing a few things into a bag, he tucked the case file in it too and headed for the bathroom to grab a few other items.
“So you’re going to Miami, huh?” Leah asked upon seeing the bag he dropped on the kitchen floor.
He opened the fridge to find something to eat.
“I’m going somewhere, but it’s not Miami.”
She entered the kitchen and stopped. “What do you mean?”
“I mean Miami is not a case assignment for me.”
“So what are you doing?” she asked, motioning to his bag. “You’re obviously doing something, so what is it?”
“I always pack a bag when I’m working,” he shrugged. He wasn’t finding anything he wanted to eat so he just grabbed two bottles of water.
Leah stopped in front of him, inches away. She was obviously worried as she studied him carefully. “Let me come too.”
“Nope,” he answered right away. He stepped past her to drop the water into his bag.
“Cole, please.”
“No, and if you argue about this it’s only going to make things worse.”
“Make what worse?”
He slung the bag over his shoulder just as a knock sounded at the door. “I don’t know. Whatever can be worse, I guess.”
“Who’s at the door?” she narrowed her eyes at him.
“Cody. He’s gonna stay here until Van comes to get you.”
“And then where am I going?”
“Family road trip. They’re heading to stay with Dani’s sister for a while.”
Leah rolled her eyes and groaned, just as Cody knocked again. “Seriously, why do I need a goddamn babysitter?” she exclaimed as Cole pulled open the door.
“I’m not a babysitter, but I’m a fine fucking stud at your service,” Cody grinned as he entered.
Leah shook her head and walked away for the bedroom.
Cole looked at his neighbor and said, “I see this is already a fantastic situation.”
Cody laughed. “She warms up after a few minutes. Especially if you have food to feed her. Fuck, she’s like a damn dog…friend for life if you got treats and shit.”
Chuckling, Cole answered, “I really hope I didn’t hear you refer to her as a dog. But there’s plenty of food here so help yourself. Thanks for doing this, man. I appreciate it. Van said he’d come by after noon sometime.”