Rags 2 Pitches: A Secret Baby Sports Romance

by Jessica Evans

  Our parents met at a parents’ meeting. They hit it off from the start. They started dating and, before we knew it, we were living in the same house.

  That was when things got awkward.

  The shy girl who loved to fight had started coming out of her shell, after our parents dropped us at college. As soon as they left, I went to her room and had it out with her.

  “We’re at the same college. Our dorms are across the campus from each other, so we don’t need to be friends. But at least stop pretending that we don’t know each other,” I blurted out. It was a speech that I had rehearsed for many nights. I was like a lovesick teenager. Which was kind of crazy, because I was kind of popular at school. The guy with a wealthy dad and who gets good grades earns some popularity in school. I was the one who held pool parties, went on expensive trips, and at times could take a friend or two on the trip.

  Kayla replied with a smug look on her face, “Make me!”

  That statement resulted in her being tackled, and I got her in a compromising position, and I couldn’t wait to kiss those lips. They were thick and full and just screaming out my name as she lay underneath me that day. I got hard just thinking about it.

  From that moment onwards, I’d known she was mine. Not just in my dreams, but in reality.

  ***

  “Shit, man. We all know you don’t need to study. Your dad’s an oil tycoon for crying out loud,” my roommate, Miles, screamed out, as if there was an audience in the room.

  He didn’t hide the fact that he hated that my dad was filthy rich, but we’d ended up sharing a room at college. He had worked like crazy to get into Yale from the public school his parents had put him into; worked two jobs, even though he was on scholarship. No one in his family had been to college. Studying wasn’t easy for him, but it came naturally to me. Yet, that didn’t stop him from accusing me of cheating, or my dad of buying my grades, whenever the results came out.

  I hated going out with him, but Reg had insisted, saying, “Come on, in a few months’ time you won’t see the guy again.” Those few months felt like a lifetime. Especially because both my roommate and my best friend loved the underworld MMA.

  I just didn’t get it.

  Some girl had died at the last fight they went to. They said she was beaten to a pulp. I just didn’t understand why anyone would get any sense of enjoyment out of it. The whole thing felt crazy to me.

  “We are at one of the most prestigious colleges. We’re educated men, and yet you guys get a kick out of seeing grown women beat the crap out of each other. Why not just get a prostitute?”

  I wasn't sure why I was comparing one to the other. But BDSM seemed to be the thing at the moment. I was sure that Miles would engage in something like that.

  “Hell no,” Miles blurted out. “You could catch something.”

  I shook my head, because that made no sense. I was trying to make a point, but as usual it was wasted on Miles. His head was always somewhere else.

  Chapter Five

  Kayla

  “Kayla, a penny for your thoughts,” Hannah asked as she prepped me for the big fight. Hannah had the reddest hair that I had ever seen on a woman. I often wondered if that, and her emerald eyes, were natural. She could be deemed a rare beauty, but I knew what lurked underneath. Something evil. Something the underdogs were scared of.

  Hannah and I were in the back room. It was a typical fight room; even after it had been cleaned and bleached, it still carried the stench of blood. The girls and guys who had been in the room before had been either been beaten to death or were dragged in here half alive from the fight. I hated coming into this room before a fight. It didn’t feel comfortable, it felt cheap. The room was dim; the lighting was always the same so that no one could see the real state of the fighters before the fight. There was never a mirror in the room. If there had been, it would probably stop the fighters from competing. That was one thing that I’d always avoided doing, even back home. I hated looking in the mirror and seeing what I had become.

  There was one light hanging from the ceiling and a bench that used to be white placed in the middle of the room. Earlier, the doctor had checked me over to make sure that I was fit for the fight. There was nothing worse than people paying for a fight and a fighter not being able to last more than a round because they had either taken too many drugs or they had been fighting outside of the market.

  The whole thing was dirty. There were no rules.

  I had been given the all clear, so I was allowed a little time to talk to my coach. But this time, Hannah had refused to let Willy, my coach, come in the room. She wanted to talk to me, help me prep before the big fight. She wanted to make sure everything was in place and that nothing was going to go wrong.

  This fight was the big one. The one that people were talking about all around New York. I had heard them talking about it in the casinos; that was where most of the people who attended the fights hung out. The guys and gals with the big bucks at the casinos. Also, that was where Hannah spent most of her time. She loved to gamble, which was another reason why she needed the money from the fight - to keep up her bad habits. One thing she ensured, which was not true of most gamblers, was that she never owed.

  She only bet if she had money in her pocket.

  If not, she didn’t go.

  But it had become like a drug to her.

  I had seen her happy when she won, but when she lost, it wasn’t a pretty sight. Not at all.

  This fight would lead to a big payout, money that I had dreamed would come my way. For the last six months, I had been working practically day and night to get out of this world.

  Two months ago, I had lost two teeth in the last sixteen finals.

  Last month, I had nearly lost the use of my eye in the quarterfinals.

  Last week, I’d been confined to my bed after the semifinals. I could hardly move. This shit wasn’t like the real MMA. The fights were getting tougher, and the pain was getting unbearable. Shit, the other girl in the semi nearly died. There were rules, but they were so loose, sometimes I wondered if the audience got more of a kick out of seeing one of us die. I wanted to win. No, I needed to win to finally be free.

  Yet, it was taking me longer and longer to recover from a fight. The fighters felt as if they were made of steel. A punch to the head just made them look the other way. I needed more blows to knock them out. I had been training like a dog to make sure that I won this fight.

  This was black market fighting; there were no drug tests, so most of the fighters took steroids or some kind of stimulant to get so far. There was no board or censorship; fighting was about winning, pure and simple. Every kick and punch felt like metal beating the shit out of me, but I kept on. I refused to take that shit.

  I had seen a couple of girls that had taken drugs and they had lost their minds. Maybe I was old-fashioned and thought that playing it safe would lead to a win. Hannah said I was naive.

  Yet, she knew the real reason why I didn’t take that shit.

  “I just don’t know if I can go on like this,” I said as I started to get nervous. No, I was fucking scared. Not only of my opponent, but of Hannah too.

  My final fight was with Natalie Nathan. She was taller than me, bigger than me, and a whole lot stronger.

  The only thing I had in my favor was speed, but that didn't always allow me to win a fight. When I’d first started out, it was fucking tough. As the years rolled by, it became easier. All I had to do was see my dad’s face and I fought. Now, it was hard again. Maybe I was getting sentimental, or maybe the nightmares were finally going away.

  Either way, hearing their voices and feeling their punches no longer made it easier to deal with the pain.

  “You wanted this. I told you about the risk, about what could happen. You said you could do this.” Hannah started panicking. “Shit, do you know what is at stake if you back out now? It’s not just your life.”

  I nodded my head, pretending that I had gotten myself together. I’d s
aid I wanted the final fight. She had supported me for nearly two and a half years. This fight would mean that I could finally pay her back and then I would be free.

  I knew that Hannah was powerful, but over the last few months, I’d found out just how powerful she really was.

  “Don’t worry. It was just nerves talking. I’m okay. I know what tonight means. I won’t let you down.”

  The stakes were high. She reassured me with a fake smile and a kiss on the forehead. It was a deadly smile. One that didn't say, “try and do your best”. It was one that said, “if you don’t win, and you let me down, if your opponent doesn’t kill you, I will”.

  Chapter Six

  Chase

  “I mean, out of all the ways to get your kicks. Seriously, guys, I just don’t get it. Why this?” I was pleading to Reg because I hoped that he would see sense and know exactly where I was coming from. The only thing constantly on Miles’ mind was Miles.

  “Chase, you need to loosen up. I bought you the damn ticket. And it cost me a fortune. I got us top seats.”

  Top seats; what the hell did that mean in some underground fight? He made out that we were going to some Heavyweight Championship, where the seats would be in the box, or even near the ring. I had no idea what he meant by that statement, but I would find out when we got there.

  I did know deep down that Reg had a point. He had asked beforehand if I was up for it. Actually, no, he’d given me a lecture: “You need to get out. You’ve had your head stuck in books since the day you got here. Let me take you out. Somewhere you’ve never been before.” I didn’t want him to repeat that speech in front of Miles.

  I’d agreed, but Reg knew how I felt about the fights. I didn’t think in a million years that he would book for us to go to the one place that I hated. Especially with the one person that I didn’t particularly like; Miles.

  It felt like the worst trek ever.

  “It’ll take us a couple of hours to get there, so we need to get going,” Reg stressed as I slowly headed for my coat.

  Then I thought that maybe this trip would be one that we would both regret, and Reg would never ask me to a fight again.

  “At this rate, I wasted my money on the tickets,” Reg huffed as he walked out the door.

  “Come on, Chase, your best friend just turned twenty-one. Try and make some kind of effort,” Miles whispered before he followed Reg.

  Shoot, what a selfish prick!

  I had completely forgotten about Reg’s birthday. Sure, that was another reason why he was trying to get us to go out. He’d finally turned twenty-one. He was the youngest out of the three of us. We had been together since elementary school, and I hadn’t even remembered his birthday.

  As I headed down to the car park, towards my car, I decided to change my mood. I had been out of order, thinking about myself. Dreaming of Kayla. That was the real reason I hated the fights. She used to train like crazy at school.

  I had even seen her in a few events.

  That was my first stop when I went looking for her, to see if she was competing in one of them.

  A big fat zero.

  Kayla had decided to get on with her life. I needed to get on with mine. It wasn't fair punishing my best friend for wanting to spend time with the two guys that he spent most of his time with in a place where he found enjoyment.

  I put on my happy face, jumped in the car, and shouted, “Let’s get the party started!”

  Miles had a bottle - he always seemed to at times like this - and he hollered out from the backseat, “Boys, get ready to rock and roll!”

  Chapter Seven

  Kayla

  “I could help you. If you like…” Hannah had whispered when I’d first met her at the gym. Sheryl had told me the way to get into the blackmarket circuit. She had heard about Hannah, but didn’t know her personally, so she warned me to tread carefully.

  I’d been naive and desperate.

  I’d nodded like a child, eager to get candy from the candy shop for free, so I’d held her hand and told her to lead the way.

  “I’ve worked with a few fighters. I could help you become part of a team.”

  I’d felt as if I’d had hit jackpot. What could go wrong?

  Nothing.

  I’d thought that Hannah was my guardian angel coming to rescue me from the bad people of the streets. I didn’t realize she was one of the people that I should have feared. By the time I did learn, it was too late.

  I was in too deep.

  And she took advantage.

  She fucking used me, and I needed to fight for her one last time to put an end to our relationship. I would no longer owe her, and she would no longer own me.

  “I just got nervous,” I blurted out. I needed to go out there and fight, but not only fight.

  I needed to win.

  The dingy room that we were in started to feel like a trap. I felt nauseated, which I rarely did. I usually came in this room and had a talk with Willy, my trainer, and everything felt fine. He could easily have passed for my grandpa. He was around the same age and treated me as if I was the granddaughter he’d never had. I never asked how he got mixed up with Hannah. Some things were better off left unasked. Especially when it came to her.

  Hannah spoke slowly. “Remember everything you’ve learned. Remember, you’re here to win, nothing else.”

  She was spitting out her words as if they were enough to encourage me, enough to make me fight harder.

  But they were doing the complete opposite.

  They were scaring me. Frightening the shit out of me. As my stomach knotted, I shouted out so loud that I even scared myself, “I need a minute.”

  I needed a second to get myself together without her in the room, breathing down my neck. I hesitated as I moved from her grip. I wanted to do something I hadn't done in a long time: get down on my knees and pray.

  “Sure, kid. I’ll give you a minute… You can do this.”

  I needed her to have confidence in me. I wanted to run as I had done so many times before. She’d wanted me to train for at least two years before I got to the big fight. That was our arrangement when she took me in. That was the only reason she took me in, because she had lost so many fights, investing in girls who either ran or got killed in their last fight. I’d found out the hard way through my coach, Willy, what happened to the ones who ran.

  Hannah tracked them down and gave them a piece of her mind.

  Not a blow to the head.

  Or a hit and run, like some of the other managers set up.

  No, something far worse.

  Torture.

  Hannah had a reputation to keep. She wanted the girls to know that if they ever betrayed her, they would pay. Willy let me know it wasn’t only my life at stake, so I had to tread lightly.

  “You could be ready for this fight, but if I was you, I would wait,” he had warned me. I didn’t listen. The stubborn part of me wanted to leave and get out of this world that I had become accustomed to. Nowadays, when I looked in the mirror, I saw a faint image of the girl that I used to be. I was only twenty-one years old, but the scars and the beatings made me look a lot older.

  The first scars were from the hand of my own dad, and I collected more after I started black market fighting.

  I knew that I could have another new identity.

  A new face; if I got plastic surgery, I could remain anonymous forever.

  Willy had a contact out in Mexico. It was all arranged.

  Hannah would get her money, payback for the money that she had invested in me, and in exchange, I would get the one thing that I had craved for nearly three years: freedom.

  I didn’t want a fancy life. I hadn’t realized until I lost it that that was what I’d had when Mom married Stephen. We had expensive things, all the things that money could buy, but it couldn’t undo the past, which had come back to haunt me that night on campus.

  What was Dad doing there?

  I would probably never find out.

  Ha
nnah slowly made her way to the door. She turned around, and her red hair shifted, revealing her green eyes. “Remember, kid. I’m rooting for you.” With those words, she shut the door and I knew what she really meant.

  Win this, kid, or pay the price.

  Chapter Eight

  Chase

  Lately, I’d just been so damn moody. I guess because it was near graduation, and I’d never thought that I’d be going through it alone. That was never meant to be the plan.

  Shit, the idea of Kayla not even graduating burned a hole in my head.

  What was she escaping from?

  Or running away from?

  Graduation, or just me?

  I’d thought that Kayla and I would be graduating together. That was what we’d planned; us against the world.

  I had spent a lot of time treating her as if she didn’t exist in public, but in private I would spend my nights jerking off just thinking about her tight body. She worked out a lot. Some thought it was to the extreme. I used to wonder where she came from. Until a year before her mom married my dad, she was a complete stranger.

  Kayla always looked as if the whole world was against her. The only time she had a smile on her face was after she did a workout or after she had kicked the shit out of someone in karate practice. Some of the guys at school loved to watch her, wondering if the girl that loved to dress in black was a secret ninja.

  Her strong arms and height didn’t deter from the fact that she was secretly every guy’s fantasy at school. Her dark hair and eyes matched her appearance.

  The cheerleaders were scared of her, not only because of her physique, but because they had tried to be popular. Killing themselves to be the girl that every guy wanted, but Kayla had achieved that easily from day one.