Break Me (Alpha MMA Fighter) (15 page)

Again he turned around to look at Rose. A flash of something wild she hadn’t seen in his face before, except perhaps when he’d heard about Joy attacking her, took her focus off the Twitches for a moment and made her feel like maybe she wasn’t alone in this. He turned back to them. “Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it this time. You guys are chaperoning someone? A Springbok’s fighter?”

“One of our best young girls—going to be huge,” answered Ashley. “Dad thought it’d be best if we went with her this time, seeing as we don’t have any big fights till the fall.”

“Well, tell her good luck from me. What’s her name?”

“Joey, sorry, Josephine O’Connor. A redhead.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for her. Maybe I’ll see you ringside,” he said.

“Okay, babe,” replied Ashley. “Tell Marlon he has a couple of cheerleaders too.”

“Will do.”

“But you might want to rethink your choice of sparring partner. Sluts go down way too easily.” That last barb tossed over her shoulder as she turned to leave.

Rose shouted after them: “Make sure you ask for the double-dyke discount. And keep the twincest away from Joey.”

They didn’t respond, and if Rose weren’t still fuming she might have felt embarrassed for having blown her top in public like that, in front of so many paying gym members. As it was, she was glad she’d finally confronted the Twitches, and that Avery had taken her side in the confrontation.

“You have a talent for making enemies,” he said. It came off as flip and condescending.

“I’m not a doormat,” she replied.

“No. I’ve kinda figured that out.”

“So how do you know them?”

“Who? Ash and Lena?”

“The Twitches,” said Rose. “A.k.a Twin Bitches.”

He flashed her an enigmatic glance that was neither approving nor disapproving. “I dated Ash for a while.”

“My condolences.”

“She wasn’t that bad,” he said.

“Then your taste must be.”

“Listen, if you hate them that much, maybe it isn’t a good idea, you coming to Reno. They’ll be at all the same functions as you, all the same parties. And trust me, wherever they go, they like to make an impression.”

Rose shrugged and grabbed her drink bottle and hoodie. “If you don’t want me to go, it’s your call.”

“That’s not what I said. I just don’t want to put you in tight spot. They beat you up at some point, I take it?”

“Two on one,” she clarified. “They were whaling on Cate, so I jumped in to protect her. They put me in the hospital.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“When was this?”

“A few years ago. That’s why I didn’t want their dad to recognize me when I was Ross. He was the one who took me to the hospital.”

“Man, that’s rough. Jesus. I had no idea they were so…”

“Evil?” she said.

“That was evil. And cowardly. Tyler’s partly to blame. He should have taught them better than that.”

“So you still think I have a talent for making enemies?”

He put his arm around her, but she threw it off. “I didn’t mean it,” he said. “I just meant you’ve had some unlucky encounters.”

“Whatever. But just so you know, I’m going to Reno, and you’re not going to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said.

“And I’m taking charge of all the credit cards.”

Avery slanted her a sharp look as they walked.

“Hey, it was worth a shot,” she said and pouted until he couldn’t help but laugh. Good.
That
was the Avery she wanted with her tomorrow. The Twitches were her concern. The fight fixers were his. Any time she was alone with him, it had to be about the two of them. Nothing else, no one else should come between them.

Now, all she had to worry about was…hell, everything! Her first plane flight, first journey to a big city, and being responsible for the whole freaking trip…

“It’ll be okay,” he said, perhaps sensing her tension. “Just call Luca a million times a day. That’s what I always do when he’s not there.”

“You don’t think he’ll mind?”

“Mind? I think he’ll be offended if you don’t. He lives for that stuff: working the rooms, talking up the prospects, figuring out who’s who and how he can play them. Put it this way—if you don’t call him, he’ll call you.”

“Maybe I should pin a webcam to my jacket and put him on speakerphone. Dude really
would
be there.”

Avery shook his head. “Don’t even say that, not even as a joke. He’d totally do it. I’m not kidding.”

“Then I’d best go charge my phone,” she said. “What time are we picking Marlon up in the morning?”

“Early. Five thirty. I’ll have to drag his corpse out of bed.”

“And I won’t need to take anything for the flight, right? I mean what if my ears don’t pop?”

“Then you’ll go deaf,” he replied, then gave her a friendly nudge. “Only kidding. Suck on a mint or something, a piece of candy, that’s what I always do.”

“And that works for everyone?”

He rolled his eyes. “Stop being such a stresshead. It’s going to be fine. Do you know how rare it is to sustain an injury during a plane flight?”

“No.”

“It’s…rare.”

“But just so you know,” she said, “if something does go wrong and we have to bail, I’m using your dumb carcass to soften my fall.”

“Oh? What makes you think it won’t be the other way round?”

She grinned. “Because heavyweights fall hard. Featherweights,” she jabbed a thumb at herself, “we take our time.”

Avery snickered. “Been dying to say that all week, haven’t you?”

“You betcha.”

“Thought so. But think of it this way…if I got hold of you, I’d never let you go, so we’d fall hard together.”

Either he didn’t realize he’d just said exactly what she wanted to hear, or Avery Wright was coming on to her. She thought about it all evening…and went to sleep thinking about it.

One way or the other, she decided, there would be fireworks in Reno.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

You could say what you wanted about Rose Jacqueline, but you had to hand it to her, she always took the bull by the horns. Planning and executing a trip like this for three people was no small thing. It had given Avery a headache every time he’d had to do it himself, and he’d grown up around the sport—travel was an intrinsic part of it, professionally. But for Rose to take point on this excursion after only a few weeks on the job, most of it spent in Luca’s office, was really impressive. Not only that, she was well-prepared, thorough, and instead of relying on his experience to show her how things were done, she liked to take the lead. An entire portfolio full of internet research bulged her rucksack.

For a girl fresh from the streets of Mitre, and a slightly tomboyish one at that, perhaps the most impressive thing was her fashion savvy. He’d half-expected her to turn up at the tournament registration event in the Grand Oasis Resort lounge dressed in cargo pants and a tank top, but the first thing she did after they’d settled into their rooms was go clothes shopping. Not to browse, though. No, she knew exactly which stores to visit, their addresses, and roughly how much everything cost. Girl had been busy on the internet. That portfolio was like a survival guide to a world and a place she had absolutely no experience of.

Avery would never forget the moment she entered the hotel foyer after her shopping excursion. Ignoring the rucksack slung over her shoulder, she looked like a million bucks! A sparkly sequined, green cocktail dress that showed off her athletic shoulders and her slim figure.
High heels,
something he’d never expected to see her wearing. She also had her hair dyed black and styled into an elfin, Winona Ryder classic straight bob, and had gone for a full facial that made her look five years older and stunning.

“Who are you, and can I have your number?” he asked after he’d lifted his jaw from the floor. “I mean
wow
!”

“The name’s Becky, remember? Becky Hot-Buns.”

The name rang a bell, but he couldn’t quite place it.

“That night you caught me training, you said I looked like a Becky,” she reminded him. He clicked his fingers in recognition. “Well, this is my version of Becky,” she said. “What do you think?”

He looked her up and down several times before replying, “I’m sorry, was there a question in there? All I heard was
hot
and
number.
”

She might have blushed; he couldn’t tell through her heavy makeup. “So this is all right for the party?” she asked, giving a quick whirl.

“I reckon you might need a chaperon,” he said, “to keep those cavemen from pawing you all evening.”

She grinned. “Want the job?”

“Are you kidding? This
is
my cave, and these are world champion paws, sweetheart.”

“I see.” She raised an eyebrow. “Is everything about you world champion?”

“Still undefeated.”

“Care to defend your title?”

“When I find someone, I think could go the distance,” he said, stepping closer to her. She had on a strong, enticing perfume as well. Rose took a few slinky steps toward him, though she didn’t seem wholly steady on those heels. “Stamina’s important,” he added. “Getting into the ring is one thing. Staying there is something else.”

“I think you might surprise yourself,” she replied. “I’m betting you’d last longer than you think. No tap-outs allowed though. You’d just have to wait till I was finished with you.”

“Never tapped out yet, sweetheart. I control the ring from start to finish.”

“Maybe up to now. But you’ve never been in the ring with
me,
sweetheart
.
”

Avery could go on like this all day: she not only talked his talk, she did it with a sexy twinkle in her eye. “Think you’re a contender, huh?”

“I had you beat the moment you saw this dress,” she answered. “You’re so ready to throw in the towel.”

“I would throw in the towel…if that’s all I was wearing.”

She spluttered into one of her infectious belly laughs that was somehow even funnier because it didn’t remotely match her new million dollar look. Rose laughed like that; Becky, on the other hand, looked like she ought to turn her nose up at that sort of behavior.

“You big goof,” she said finally. “You hit on my secret and didn’t even know it.”

He pulled a confused face at her. “That some kind of riddle?”

“
No,
genius.” She gave his arm a decent punch—the fact that it registered at all meant she’d gained at least some strength. “You…throwing in the towel.”

“Which translates as…”

“Me seeing you naked,” she replied, biting her lip. “I didn’t meant to. It just happened, before you knew the real me.”

“What?” A hundred possible scenarios for how it had happened pinballed around in his mind, none of them really objectionable. All of them made her less the vulnerable student and more the horny young woman he was finding it increasingly tough to be around without getting hard. This relationship couldn’t end well, he kept telling himself, but there came a time when caution just got in the way and impulse was all that mattered. If they both wanted it, who gave a shit about the consequences?

“At the gym. You were going into the shower,” she said. “I caught a glimpse by accident, and…”

“And what?”

She swallowed. “That’s it. I mean I’ve seen guys naked before, but you, ah, looked, ah...”

Avery could see she was struggling, so he waved her awkwardness away. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say any more.” He prodded her toward to elevator then cupped the back of her neck. “So that’s your big secret, huh? Spying on me in the shower?”

“I said I didn’t mean to.”

“But you’re not sorry you did.”

She snickered. “Hell, no! I mean no. Every girl should see at least one world champion fighter buck naked before she dies.” Inside the elevator, she squirmed out of his gentle hold. “So, we’re good for tonight? The reception? I’ll work the room as best I can, and you watch Marlon at all times.”

“I’m on it.”

“Don’t let him out of your sight for a second. Not even when he goes to the john. I’m serious. You need to hold it for him if that’s what it takes.”

“Rose, chill. You’re starting to sound like my brother.”

“Well, those
were
his words.” She pulled out her phone and showed him the text message. “See? He’s all over your shit. So you need to be all over Marlon’s. If you take my meaning.”

“Sure. Like a staccato heel to the gonads.”

“That can be arranged,” she said, “if you let anyone get to him tonight. They’re bound to try.”

“We’ll see.”

Rose eyed him askance. “And we’re still on for dinner before we fly back?”

“We’ll see.”

“Hey, you promised.”

“Ease up on the nagging, and I’ll think about,” he replied.

He saw her playful, sulky pout reflected in the shiny metal door panel. It made him smile. She saw his smile in the same reflection, and it turned her pout into a smile as well. A beautiful one.

***

So far, Rose had only called Luca for help twice: once because she’d mislaid the number for Josh McGuigan, the tournament organizer, and once for a reminder of the names she was supposed to look out for during the pre-tournament bash tonight, people he wanted her to touch base with and, if possible, make it known he was waiting for their calls.

Having these little tasks to accomplish kept her busy and forced her to be gregarious in what was a completely alien environment. The hotel lounge was way bigger than she’d expected. It was a cross between a convention hall and a private bar for large and expensive functions. Booths and table displays for the various gym franchises and media promoters were dotted around the room. There was a busy memorabilia corner, chock full of championship belts and authentic fighting apparel worn by the most famous fighters, and monitors showing montages of the exciting moments from MMA’s history. There was also a booth where you could donate money to an organization that helped veteran and disabled fighters.

Avery turned up late and, apart from signing autographs, didn’t really mingle. In fact, he and Marlon mostly stayed with the same group of guys, probably all fighters and ex-fighters, near the entrance. They looked as if they’d all had the same idea about tonight: show up to make an appearance, but no more. Rose, on the other hand, must have circumnavigated the room about twenty times by the time she’d fulfilled her mission. She’d also spent more time asking people who was who, and then waiting in the wings for her chances to strike, than she’d spent actually chatting with those on her list. Mostly they were quick introductions, followed by forced and snappy small talk, after which she’d drop Avery’s and Luca’s names, explain why the latter hadn’t come, and say how much he was looking forward to their calls. Hand out his business card. Rinse. Repeat.

Shortly before she was about to leave, Rose overheard an argument at the bar between two white-haired, impeccably dressed old men. One of them managed fighters, while the other seemed to be a business associate of some kind. Apparently, the manager had badmouthed somebody he shouldn’t tonight; it had pissed off one of the bigwig hoteliers in Reno, a man named Shane Hoskins, who’d left the party in a strop. The business associate was warning his old colleague not to say anything else….

“And for God’s sake, man, don’t drop any more names. Do you
want
to get us killed?”

“Think I give a shit? They’ve killed everything good about this sport, Howie. All this…”— the manager swept his arm across the room—“…this is all a sham. Half these guys will take dives by the time Delgado’s done, and the other half will win titles because of it. How is any of that real? How is what any of us does real, when Delgado’s already decided who wins and who loses?”

“Keep your voice down, Pete! Jesus.” Howie turned to see who might be listening in. “Want something, girlie?” he growled at Rose. “No? Well, move on then. Ain’t nothing for you to hear.”

“I can stand here if I want. It’s not like I haven’t heard of Delgado,” she lied.

Both men spun to face her. “What do you know about Delgado?” asked Pete, genuinely surprised.

“That you probably shouldn’t be mentioning him in a place like this. He has ears everywhere.”

“Aye, and a lot more besides. He’s greased half the punks in here, him and Hoskins. They might as well rename this tournament WWE; it’s pretty much scripted that way.”

“They’ve not
all
been got to,” she argued. “You sure you’re not exaggerating?”

Pete threw off Howie’s attempts to silence him. “Four of my guys he’s ruined.
Four.
And how many more before he’s done? But who can you tell it to? No one. Because no one wants to stand against him. A roomful of fighters and not one of ’em has the guts to face him down.”

By this time, security personnel were on their way. Pete’s voice had been getting steadily louder and more abrasive, and people were staring.

Rose felt the gazes on her back and decided to step away, to disassociate herself from his rant. But maybe she’d stayed too long. Both those names—Shane Hoskins and Delgado—were underlined in her stepdad’s black book of contacts, which meant Mike really
was
connected to all this. And now she’d been seen talking to someone who’d openly offended those big cheeses.

Worse still, Avery and Marlon now had a couple of new additions to their posse: the Twitches! Not only were they dressed to kill, they were in rambunctious form, flirting and sipping martinis and cracking jokes and wobbling on their heels so that the guys would have to catch them. That, in turn, attracted other guys from all over the room, and it became the rowdiest corner of the party. Rose couldn’t even get close to Avery to have a word with him. And anyway, he didn’t seem to give two shits about her. He wanted to be in a Twitch sandwich. He could have it!