Unraveled- 8 Delicious Tale of Passion

by Fawkes, Sara

  “I can’t believe you’re only telling me this now.” She wrapped the sheet around her and slid off

  the bed and her voice took on a bitter tone. “All the time you were training me, you never believed I

  would succeed.”

  Jax’s throat tightened. He had waited too long to tell her the truth, breaking the trust before it had

  even had a chance to take root.

  While Marcy dressed, Jax tugged on his jeans in silence, uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

  Helpless in a way he hadn’t been since the death of his sister. But when she stalked down the hallway,

  desperation loosened his tongue. “Wait.”

  “You’re wrong,” Marcy snapped, turning to face him. “You think you know me, but you don’t.

  You’ve seen only the tiny piece of me I allowed you to see. We’ve fought and we’ve fucked, but we

  missed the part in the middle where I tell you all about me, and you tell me about you. You don’t

  know I bake cookies when I’m stressed or that I bite my nails when I’m sad. You don’t know I have a

  sister I haven’t spoken to in years and who I miss desperately. You don’t know that my favorite season

  is winter or that I’m into Thrash, or that I cry at airports or that my favorite thing to do is watch bad

  movies...” She paused and drew in a ragged breath, then stiffened her spine and swallowed.

  “Marcy...” He took a step toward, his stomach clenching when she backed away.

  “And I know very little about you,” she said bitterly. “You keep your cards close to your chest.

  Even here,” she waved her hand vaguely across the hall, “there is hardly anything in your apartment

  that tells me who Jax is, what he likes, what makes him laugh or cry, what makes his heart sing—”

  “You, Marcy. You make—”

  Marcy shook her head, cutting him off. “I made a mistake trusting you before I really got to know

  you or letting you get to know me. I thought I’d make it as a fighter because of you. But now I’m

  going to succeed despite you. I’m going to prove you wrong. Regardless of what you think is my true

  nature, I’m a fighter, Jax. I’m going to fight. And I’m going to win. But I’m going to do it alone.”

  Chapter Eight

  “What do you mean he’s gone?”

  Marcy’s heart stuttered in her chest as she dropped into the chair across from Reid’s desk. Last

  night, after she’d stormed out of Jax’s apartment, she’d done some thinking. Maybe she’d been too

  harsh. Jax had been honest with her, and although she still didn’t agree with his assessment, she might

  have overreacted. She’d planned to talk to him this evening at the gym, but before she’d even stepped

  onto the mats, Reid had called her into his office.

  Reid scraped a hand through his hair and gave her a sympathetic look. “Jax called me this morning

  to say something had come up and he had to break the contract. He flew to Miami this afternoon.”

  Stunned into disbelief, Marcy just stared. What kind of fighter gave up after one fight? She’d had

  worse disagreements with Preston and, except at the end, they’d always managed to work things out.

  But then she and Preston had been together for years. She’d known Jax only a few weeks, and that

  knowing wasn’t knowing at all.

  “Did he leave a number?”

  Reid shook his head. “He dropped off the keys, refunded the money I’d paid him, and apologized

  for his abrupt departure. I told him to keep the fee since he’d helped everyone through their issues, but

  he wouldn’t hear of it.” He paused and his eyes softened. “He said he’d hurt you more than he’d

  helped you, stalled rather than progressed your career by telling me you weren’t ready, and it was

  something he would always regret.”

  Marcy’s last hope withered and died. “You’re definitely not putting me on the card.” She didn’t

  need to ask. She could see it in his face.

  He pressed his lips together and sighed. “I’m sorry, but I can’t put you out there until I know one

  hundred percent you won’t freeze up. The State Championship is a whole new level of fighting and

  your opponents will be highly skilled and experienced. They will catch any weakness and they won’t

  hold back when they do.”

  “I get it, Reid.”

  Reaching across the desk, he squeezed her hand. “You gonna be okay? I know there was something

  between you—”

  “No. It was nothing. He was just a coach.”

  Just a coach.

  Bile rose in her throat and she spun around and fled into the hallway.

  “Marcy.” She could hear the distress in Reid’s voice, but she pushed open the front door and kept

  running.

  ***

  Marcy returned to her usual routine of days at the sporting goods shop, and nights at the gym. She

  drilled her submissions to the point she could do them in her sleep, hauling anyone and everyone onto

  the mats to practice with her, but always, at the back of her mind, she worried. What if Jax was right?

  After two weeks of being her prime target, Two Step offered to give her a new nickname, the

  Submission Master, but she refused. She didn’t want anything to change. She had always been his

  baby girl and she wanted it to stay that way.

  True to his word, Reid hired a new coach, a gruff, retired UFC fighter named Dan. After their first

  training session, Dan told her she needed to stop fighting so hard and relax into submission. She’d

  almost laughed at the irony.

  Alone at night, with nothing to occupy her mind, Marcy had to deal with the emptiness eating her

  up inside. Silly really. She had known from the start Jax was only sticking around for a few weeks.

  Nothing like the years she’d spent with Preston. And yet she’d felt a much deeper emotional

  connection to Jax and a much deeper pain when he left. Worse, her old doubts had returned. Not even

  long talks with Val over pitchers of margaritas or weekends with Two Step at the youth club could

  assuage her fears.

  Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be a fighter after all.

  And then Reid had enough.

  She was wrapped around her favorite Grapple Man, practicing a triangle using one of Jax’s

  techniques when he came for her.

  “Sonia’s injured.” Reid squatted beside her with an ease that belied his massive frame. “Hamstring

  tear. She’s off the card for the ROC event and she’ll definitely be out of the State Championships.”

  Marcy’s eyebrows rose. Sonia was one of the top-ranked Straw weights in the amateurs. A win at

  the upcoming event would have given her a good chance at a medal.

  “Poor Sonia,” she murmured. “Who’s taking her place on the promotion’s card?”

  “You.” He lifted Grapple Man off her and helped her up.

  “Me? I’m a Flyweight, Reid.”

  “I pulled some strings. The promotion agreed to add another Flyweight fight to the card in place of

  Sonia’s bout. They’re putting you up against Dawn Delagado.”

  Her mouth went dry. “But...I thought you said I wasn’t ready.”

  “You think you’re ready?”

  She hesitated only a moment and then stiffened her spine. Doubt or no doubt, she still wasn’t ready

  to throw away her dreams. “Hell, yes.”

  A grin split his face. “Then I’m willing to take the risk. You do well in this event and you still

  might have a chance at the championship.”

  “But...”

  “I have eyes on y
ou, Marcy. You’re here, but you’re not here. You do everything perfectly but

  you’ve lost your heart, your fight. Only way forward I can see is throwing you back into the ring. Sink

  or swim. If nothing else, Delagado will pound some sense into you.”

  Warmth suffused her body, pooled in her belly, and for the first time in weeks, a genuine smile

  curled her lips. “I won’t let you down, Reid.”

  “I know you won’t. You’re a fighter. Always have been. Always will. You can’t change who you

  are, but if something is holding you back, you just gotta find a way around it. There are different ways

  of fighting, different ways to win.”

  The rest of the week passed in a blur of training and dieting and the mental preparation needed for

  a big fight. Two Step volunteered to help her test new, unorthodox techniques for breaking submission

  holds and Susie Q acted as a stand-in for Delagado in practice bouts while her teammates shouted

  their encouragement.

  The night before the big event, Reid pronounced her ready and Marcy agreed. She felt ready. Not

  only that, for the first time she didn’t feel ashamed of who she was. Whether she won or lost, she

  would always be a fighter. And if she had a tendency to submit, she would fight that too. But only in

  the ring.

  After leaving the gym that night, she called her sister, Mel, for the first time in five years. They

  had always been close, but after she’d turned her back on Wall Street where Mel now worked as an

  investment banker, they had drifted apart. She realized now it was because of her. If she’d accepted

  herself, maybe her family would have accepted her, too.

  She told Mel about her career as a fighter and about the upcoming match. She’d never expected

  Mel to say she was proud of her. And she couldn’t hold back her tears when Mel said of course she’d

  be there to cheer her on.

  ***

  Friday night. Fight night.

  Marcy’s heart thudded in her chest as she climbed into the ring. The arena was packed for the ROC

  event and she tried to focus on the opponent in front of her instead of the glaring lights or the cheering

  crowds or her sister in the front row beside a grinning Two Step.

  Dawn ‘the Demolisher’ Delagado, so named because she had won most of her fights by knockout,

  warmed up in the opposite corner. Although they were evenly matched in weight, Delagado was taller

  and leaner with long arms and legs that gave her a significant advantage in reach. But more than that,

  she was a known submission expert.

  Marcy and Reid had studied Delagado’s technique all week, looking for weaknesses and ways to

  escape her brutal submission holds. They had made a game plan, but Delagado was known for pulling

  off unexpected moves and Marcy had prepared herself to improvise.

  The first shot of adrenaline hit when the bell rang. Just as well. Delagado was quick off her feet,

  taking Marcy’s back and attempting to sink a chokehold. Marcy resisted and Delagado turned it into a

  neck crank, tightening her grip. Marcy fought furiously, but the more she struggled, the tighter

  Delagado held on and Marcy knew in her heart she was going to freeze.

  “Yield to me.” The words whispered through her mind and for the briefest second she thought she

  saw Jax at the side of the ring, arms folded, legs apart, his favorite admonishing position. She closed

  her eyes and thought of the moment she had given him everything and how for those few seconds she

  had felt free.

  No. Jax had encouraged her to fight the submission. She twisted and flailed in Delagado’s arms,

  raining useless blows as her air supply slowly dwindled.

  Yield.

  Maybe Jax was wrong. Maybe, instead of fighting who she was, she should accept it and use it to

  her advantage.

  So she did. And as her body relaxed into the submission, an over-confident Delagado loosened her

  grip.

  Heart pounding at the unexpected opening, Marcy managed to untangle Dawn’s body lock and

  shake her opponent free. The crowd roared in approval. Gripping Dawn in a headlock, she rained

  punches on her opponents head and shoulders before setting up an arm bar. Dawn struggled against her

  hold, alternating punches with brutal yanks. Marcy held fast. But as the round ticked down, Dawn

  steadily worked her free. Slipping the hold, she spun around and knocked Marcy to the mat in a brutal

  double leg takedown, quickly locking Marcy in a tight, unyielding triangle. With no time to break the

  submission, and no leverage to get out, Marcy didn’t hesitate. She tapped out.

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered over the cheering crowd as Reid helped her out of the ring. “I messed

  up. I thought I had it, but she turned it around.”

  He wrapped her in his arms and squeezed her tight. “You turned it around. Fucking brought a tear

  to my eye when you broke that submission. Next year, you’ll not only make the championships, you’ll

  be going pro. Guaranteed.”

  ***

  She’d waited for him. Knew he was there.

  Jax paused midstride when he caught sight of Marcy leaning against the ring in the near empty

  arena. Her hair was loose, just dusting over her shoulders and she wore a simple white sheath dress

  that hugged every curve of her lush body.

  He had tortured himself for the last few weeks imaging the gentle curve of her hips, the soft swell

  of her breasts, the lush ass that had borne his marks when he’d walked away. What a fucking mistake.

  He could only hope she would give him a chance to make things right.

  Swallowing hard he closed the distance between them. “Good fight.”

  “I lost,” she said simply.

  “Not to me. Not to Reid. Not to you.” He could hear the husky edge in his own voice. Raw. Broken.

  “You rocked that submission, Marcy. Nothing’s going to hold you back now. You’re going all the

  way.”

  His heart hammered in his chest. He ached to hold her but he could read her well enough to know

  he had to keep his distance.

  “You left on purpose, didn’t you?” Her voice wavered and a sliver of hope shot through his heart.

  “I couldn’t coach you to fight the submission when it was the antithesis to what I love about you

  sexually. I couldn’t separate the personal and the professional. Maybe a better man could have drawn

  that line, but not me. Not with you.” He forced himself to hold her gaze although part of him wanted

  to look away from the accusation in her glittering eyes.

  She folded her arms and sighed. “So you ran away?”

  He shifted his weight from foot to foot and sucked in his lips, considering. “I couldn’t help you.

  And I hurt you. I thought it would be better to give you some space.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Maybe that was a good thing because you were wrong

  about me. I didn’t need to fight. I needed to submit. But I was ashamed and afraid of accepting that

  side of me. You helped me with that. And once I realized I could accept who I was and still be a

  fighter, I knew what to do.”

  She closed the distance between them and reached up to stroke his jaw, a light touch, and one he

  couldn’t read. But he could feel her heat blazing a trail across his skin and his throat tightened with

  need.

  “You did well, coach,” she said, softly.

  Humbled by her forgiveness, he shook his head. “I shouldn’t have left, b
ut it was too easy to slip

  back into the old pattern of moving on.”

  “But this time you came back.”

  In that moment he knew he would never be able walk away again. Wrapping his arms around her,

  he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “When I checked the promotion lists and found out you were

  fighting, I knew I had to be here for you. Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you, or mentally

  kick myself for not being honest from the start. Maybe if we’d taken the time to get to know each

  other better like you said, I would have seen things more clearly.”

  Her lips curled in a smile that made his heart squeeze. “You grovel well. I know that much about

  you.”

  With a soft laugh, Jax cupped her face between his hands and tilted her head back to meet his gaze.

  Her eyes were warm, accepting. Forgiving. “I need you, Marcy. More than I need to protect myself

  from losing someone again. I want to see where this takes us. And I’m not afraid. I would rather love

  you and lose you than never have had the chance to love you at all.”

  “So, how long are you staying?”

  He kissed her softly, sweetly, and then wrapped her tight in his arms.

  “How long do you need me?”

  THE END

  More books from Sarah Castille:

  Legal Heat

  Barely Undercover

  Against the Ropes

  Recovering lawyer, karate practitioner, and caffeine addict, Sarah Castille worked and traveled abroad

  before trading her briefcase and stilettos for a handful of magic beans and a home near the Canadian

  Rockies. Her steamy, contemporary romantic tales feature blazingly hot alpha heroes tormented or

  tattooed for your reading pleasure.

  Visit Sarah:

  www.sarahcastille.com

  twitter: @sarah_castille

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  Do you like what you just read? Read on for an excerpt from Against The Ropes, a sexy MMA fighter

  romance and a Publishers Weekly Top Ten Pick for Romance and Erotica for Fall.

  Against The Ropes Excerpt

  Copyright 2013 by Sarah Castille

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