Fight Like A Girl (Part One)

by Dawn Pendleton

  I scoured the scene in front of us, desperate to change the subject. “Ooh,” I said, pointing toward a table near the bar. “Look at them!”

  There were two guys near the bar, both of them hot and definitely in shape. There were at a tall table, sitting alone, and for a second, I thought they might be gay. But they definitely weren’t. I watched as the eyes of the blonde one, whose face I could fully see as he followed the shake of a woman’s ass as she walked by. Then he grinned at his dark-haired friend, obviously liking what he’d seen. I smiled in reaction. Men were pigs, but those were fine specimen.

  “Eh,” Wynter commented, her tongue searching for and finding her straw. She drank, her eyes meeting mine above her drink.

  “You’re kidding, right? Those two are hot,” I told her.

  She gave me a shrug. “Sorry, I’m just not into them.”

  “Well I am,” I said. There had to be more alcohol in the drink than I thought because I was feeling adventurous and that wasn’t normal.

  I downed the rest of my drink, hoping it gave me that last ounce of courage I needed and then stood, making my way over to their table. I left Wynter behind, but I knew she could take care of herself. Just like she knew I could handle myself.

  I approached their table slowly, giving them plenty of time to see me before I reached them. The blonde raised his brows at me and then nodded toward me, which led the dark-haired guy to turn, his eyes clashing with mine. I almost stopped short when he looked at me. His stare was intense, the clear gray of his eyes boring into mine without reserve. I felt vulnerable, as if he could see into the depths of my very soul.

  I managed not to stop, but only just barely. I forced my feet to continue toward them, willing my heart to slow down. Unlike most men, Mr. Gray Eyes didn’t turn away or even blink. He kept his penetrating gaze on me.

  “Hi, boys,” I greeted them, a smile on my lips. It felt forced, but it was far too late to back down.

  “Hi there,” Blondie said. “I’m Caleb.”

  I reached my hand out to shake his. “Hi Caleb, I’m Max.” I turned to Gray Eyes. “And you are?”

  “Not interested,” he mumbled and then left the table. I almost laughed out loud as I slid into the now empty seat.

  “Your friend has a way with women,” I said to Caleb.

  He shook his head with a smirk. “I didn’t think he’d be able to resist you, and then he just walks away like you’re the plainest woman in here. I’m so sorry for his behavior. Let me buy you a drink to make up for it.” He signaled a waitress and ordered me another fruity mixture.

  I nodded. “So tell me about yourself.”

  “There’s not much to tell. I’m just your everyday regular Joe,” he explained.

  He was cute, all blonde hair and blue eyes, but he just didn’t do it for me. He was actually someone I figured Wynter would be interested in. Maybe I could play wingman for her.

  “You know, my friend thinks you’re cute,” I said to him.

  He laughed. “I’m so glad I’m not the only one who thought this was a bit awkward. I’m not really into blondes.”

  “Me either,” I said as the waitress brought my drink. “I’ll tell you what… You can take this to my friend over there at the table in the back and I’ll just slip out quietly. You can even tell her I went home so she knows I’m safe.”

  He glanced over to where Wynter sat alone. “Sounds like a plan. It was very nice to meet you, Max,” he gave me one last smile and then made his way toward Wynter.

  I watched him go, thoroughly confused. His friend was obviously interested but turned me down. I knew I could be intimidating, but that guy was built like a brick shithouse. There was no way in hell I intimidated him. I guessed it didn’t matter. I got up, dropped a few ones on the table and then headed toward the door. I was over it. I just wanted to get home and get comfortable.

  When I reached the street, there weren’t any cabs to be found, so I decided to wait for a few minutes. The club was popular enough that I knew a cab would be around soon enough.

  “Aren’t you cold?” a voice sounded from behind me.

  I turned to find Gray Eyes standing there, arms crossed over his massive chest like I was invading his space.

  “No, actually. I’m perfect,” I said, throwing him a sassy smirk.

  “Hell, yeah, you are,” he murmured, almost too low for me to hear. But I did.

  “What was that?”

  “I said you’re fucking hot,” he drawled out. He stepped forward, his arm brushing mine. I shivered at the touch.

  “You aren’t exactly ugly,” I returned, not wanting to blow up his ego.

  He chuckled. “I guess lust at first sight is possible.”

  “I guess so. What are you gunna do about it?” It was a challenge, but I needed to get laid, and he was as good partner as any, provided he knew what he was doing.

  He just grinned and managed to hail a cab. He opened the door for me and I slid in and over to give him plenty of room. He took all of it. Wide shoulders filled the back seat and I felt like he was touching me everywhere. I realized belatedly that he was. His hands were on my face as he pulled me toward him for a kiss.

  He didn’t waste any time; his tongue thrust into my mouth and he took control. I was lost. His scent filled my nostrils; he used one of those colognes that boasted about women being all over the men who wore it. The company was right. I wanted to get even closer to him; my hands tugged on the collar of his shirt, bringing our bodies even closer together.

  He pulled away long enough to rattle off an address to the cab driver and then turned his attention back to me. No words were spoken, but then, I didn’t need them. We weren’t in love, we weren’t looking for something more; we both knew tonight was a one night stand. And if the movement of his tongue was any indication, I wasn’t going to be disappointed.

  Minutes later, with his hands entangled in my hair and my lips glued to his, the cab stopped. He paid the cabbie and took my hand, helping me out. We were in a nice neighborhood, standing in front of a tall brick building. I recognized it as a high-end condo complex. I raised my brow at him.

  “It’s my friends place,” he said with a grin.

  I tilted my head, thoroughly unimpressed. “And is he home?”

  “No. I’m house-sitting for a few weeks,” he said, a laugh escaping his lips.

  “Oh. Good.” I wasn’t into threesomes.

  He tugged me along, through the glass doors. The lobby was gigantic and a security guard stood near the elevator.

  “Good evening, Mr. Lawrence,” he greeted my soon-to-be lover.

  It occurred to me that I didn’t even know the guy’s name. Get it together, Max! We stepped into the elevator, and when the doors closed, I turned to him.

  “Do you have a first name, Mr. Lawrence?”

  He winked at me. “I think I like you calling me Mr. Lawrence.”

  “No, seriously.”

  “Kingston.”

  I lifted a brow. “I said seriously.”

  “I am serious,” he said, pulling his wallet out. He showed me his ID. Kingston Lawrence.

  The name sounded vaguely familiar, but I had no idea where I’d heard it before. Boston was a big city, though, so it wasn’t entirely unlikely that we’d run into one another before. Especially since my circle in the MMA world was very close-knit.

  The doors opened up to a private entry way into a penthouse suite. The place was gorgeous. I had to admit I was impressed.

  “Can I get you a drink?” he asked, heading to a wet bar and pouring himself some scotch.

  It was far ritzier than I was prepared to deal with. I just wanted to fuck and get the hell out. I shook my head and walked to the huge bay window. The city was lit up, but the view was of Boston Harbor. I loved New England, but Boston was the only place I felt at home. As a kid, we traveled a lot for my dad, but once he was gone, I settled in Boston. It was where I had the most memories of him.

  “Would you like a tour?
” Kingston asked over my shoulder, his voice barely above a whisper.

  I turned with a smile. “I just want to see the bedroom.”

  “Direct. I like that,” he murmured, his lips grazing mine before he led me down a long hallway.

  The bedroom was obviously not the master bedroom, but it wasn’t small by any means. The bed was big, taller than most and I loved the masculine feel of it. I went to the center of the room and twirled, giving him a good view of my body.

  “So where do you want to start?” I asked, ready to get it on with the tall, dark, and handsome hottie.

  He set his glass on a bureau. “It doesn’t much matter where we start,” he said, his hands on my waist. “We’re going to end up in the same place: naked and sated right there.” He tipped his head toward the massive bed.

  I licked my lips in anticipation. I wanted him. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Three

  I woke up around three am, exhausted, but sated, just like he promised. Kingston was a thorough lover. He didn’t leave any room for improvement, and as much as I knew what we had was a one-night stand, I also knew he ruined me. All other men would pale in comparison to him. Sexually, he was a beast, pushing me to my limits without forcing me too far. I found myself wanting to give him even more than he demanded.

  I wanted nothing more than to wake him, ride his delicious cock again and again, but I knew better. I managed to escape the bed without him noticing and slid my shorts on. I had no idea where my panties were, but it didn’t matter. I just needed to get out. I found my tank top draped over a chair in the corner and pulled it on. I chanced one last glance at Kingston, who was sprawled out on the bed. He looked peaceful in his sleep.

  I shook my head, trying to clear it as I walked out. I closed the door softly and then left the building. On the street, I could finally breathe. Instead of getting a cab, I opted to walk, not caring about the walk of shame look I was surely sporting. I held my head high, all the way back to my apartment, which was twelve blocks away. I was thankful I didn’t suggest to go to my place, since he didn’t seem to have any ambition to get up. I’d have been terrified to wake up with him in my bed in the morning; one night stands didn’t sleep over. It was an unspoken rule.

  The city was surprisingly loud. I hadn’t been out at three am in a long time, it seemed. But then, the notion didn’t actually surprise me. I’d been training for years, which meant I focused all my energy on fighting, not drinking. I was never much of a partier, not like Wynter, who enjoyed alcohol and consistently had one night stands. She and I were different on so many levels.

  Wynter grew up being pampered and spoiled by her rich parents. She had a nanny for most of her childhood. She chose Boston College to piss her parents off. She was opposite of me in every aspect. After a rough childhood and then my father’s disappearance, I settled on Boston College because it was a good school, and it was close to home.

  I’d always been interested in fighting, but the truth was, it had been instilled in me at a young age. My dad was a fighter, always looking for the next fight to earn money. He even did some cage fighting. He was well-known and I was thankful no one in the MMA world knew I was related to him. He garnered quite a reputation.

  After one fight in particular, at least ten years ago, a fight he lost, Dad disappeared. But not before his opponent showed up dead. All leads pointed toward my father, but he was long gone. The man I grew up loving and adoring was a murderer. I hated him afterwards. He left me with no one.

  Not having him to lean on only made me stronger, though. I wasn’t some silly young girl who cried anymore; I was a badass. I fought to earn a name for myself, and so far, I was doing a good job. People weren’t recognizing me because I was John’s daughter. They only saw Madd Maxx. It was a nickname the guys at the gym gave me when I started training there two years ago, and it had stuck.

  I locked my apartment and went into my room to pass out.

  * * * * *

  The next day, I pulled into the gym and noticed Jeff’s bike parked in the lot already. I was hopeful, for just a minute, that he changed, that he was finally getting his shit together and I wouldn’t have to rely on someone who wasn’t worth my time anymore.

  I should have known better.

  I was always the first one in the gym, even before Freddie. But seeing Jeff’s motorcycle made me wary. I went through the side door, cautious. Jeff was passed out one of the benches. He didn’t look very comfortable, but his face was cut up. He hadn’t fought in a few years, so I knew he’d gotten himself into some trouble.

  “Jeff!” I shouted to wake him.

  He sat up swinging. I stepped back to get out of his line of fire. He glared at me. “Why are you waking me up?”

  “I’m here to train,” I told him.

  He grunted. “Fuck training. I need a day off.” He dropped both feet to the floor and rubbed a hand over his face. He looked rough.

  “No days off. Especially not before my first real fight.”

  He glanced up at me and rolled his eyes. “It’s not like it’s a real fight.” Jeff wasn’t one who supported women’s MMA fighting, but his condescension only strengthened my resolve to fight harder.

  I struggled not to punch him. His ignorance was inexcusable, especially when he worked with me on a daily basis. I wasn’t some weak-bodied woman. Hell, I’d brought him down just yesterday. I wondered if he needed a reminder of that.

  As I contemplated decking his already bruised face, the sound of sirens filled the gym. The sound was deafening. Through the windows, I saw several cop cars pull up. They busted down the front door, never bothering to knock. I went to my knees before they yelled the words, my hands positioned unthreateningly behind my head. I glanced at Jeff, who looked confused and watched as they dragged him off the bench and to the hard concrete floor.

  My eyes were wide as he was read his rights and then hauled away. An officer approached me with a slight smile.

  “Miss, you’re all set. Jeffrey Smith is being arrested for drug charges, including possession and distribution to a minor. Did you know anything about his actions?” The older man offered me a hand up.

  I shook my head. “No, I absolutely didn’t. I wouldn’t have associated with him if I’d known.” The news floored me.

  “Well, that’s good then. We’ll be in touch, but you shouldn’t have anything to worry about if you’re telling the truth. In the meantime, Mr. Smith won’t be around for a while.” He gave me another smile. And then they were gone. All the cops that had just invaded the gym were nowhere to be found. They got back into their squad cars and left, with Jeff in tow.

  I sat on the bench he’d been passed out on and wondered what the fuck I was going to do. I had less than two weeks until my first fight and no one to help train me. As much as I wanted to wallow in my own self-pity, I knew it wouldn’t do any good. Instead, I got up, changed into my favorite workout tank top and shorts, and started training. I had to take my mind off what had just happened.

  An hour later, several people showed up, including Freddie. I explained to them what occurred when I got to the gym that morning and none of them was surprised. Jeff had been walking a fine line for months.

  “Come into my office,” Freddie directed me and then told everyone to get to work. I followed him meekly, my brain not really functioning properly. He gestured for me to sit in one of the chairs across from his desk. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Don’t lie to me, girl. I can see in your eyes that you’re ready to give up,” he accused.

  He wasn’t wrong. With no trainer, I was done. “It’s over, Freddie.”

  “It’s never over,” he returned, his eyes narrowed.

  I tipped my head back and stared at the ceiling. “You and I both know that I can’t fight without a trainer and finding someone to train a woman isn’t exactly easy. I should just pull out of the fight now and give someone else a chance.”

  “You’ll do no such
thing!” he yelled, drawing my attention back to him. “You’ve worked hard to get where you are, Max and I won’t let some loser like Jeff take it all away from you.”

  I sighed. “Then what am I supposed to do?”

  “For now, you get out there and you train. You work your ass off to be better than you were yesterday. And while you do that, I’ll make a few calls, see if I can find someone to train you. Even if it’s only temporary,” he added.

  I had to admit his plan was better than mine. “Fine.” I got up and went back out to the gym. I knew better than to hope Freddie would find someone who was not only willing, but also qualified. The chances were slim, but if I was going to fight, with or without a trainer, I needed to push myself even further than I had for the last month.

  Two hours later, I was sweaty and in desperate need of a shower, but still I trudged on, forcing my body beyond its limits. I wanted to be the best, and the only way I knew how to do that was to work my ass off. Freddie called me into his office.

  I didn’t bother sitting down. I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand and glared at him. “You couldn’t find anyone.” It wasn’t a question.

  “You have so little faith in me,” he said with a grin.

  I rolled my eyes. “Did you or didn’t you?” I definitely wasn’t in the mood to put up with his antics.

  “I did.”

  That got my attention. “What? Who the hell would take the job?”

  “He’s a wild one, but if anyone can take his shit, I’m guessing it’s you. He said he’d be here in half an hour. Time to get to work.”

  I stood there in awe for a full thirty seconds before I made my way out of his office. Five steps from his door, I turned back. “Hey, Freddie,” I said. He looked up from his desk. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime, kiddo.”

  Freddie was the only person in the industry who knew exactly who I was. Being the daughter of an MMA fighter wasn’t too uncommon, but the daughter of a murder suspect was another thing altogether. Especially when the guy who was murdered was also a fighter. I wished my past was different, but I knew I couldn’t change my father’s actions. Instead, I changed my last name.