Fight for Her (4 page)

“First of all, I don’t really look at fighting that way.”

“What way?”

“I don’t care about how big something is for my career. I don’t care if people think a fight is too small, because I take all of my opponents very seriously.”

She nodded, trying to look as though she was taking in what he was saying. “But you have to admit, your opponent for this upcoming fight is someone that people think will truly test you.”

Gunner’s jaw tensed and his shoulders seemed to tighten under his shirt. “Zane Davis is a great fighter, I take nothing away from the guy. But I didn’t pull out of this fight because I was afraid of him. That’s just not the case.”

“But does it concern you that people will believe that?” she said. “Even now, if you go on the message boards and all the sports websites—“

“I don’t go on Internet message boards and websites and try and see who thinks what about me,” Gunner interrupted. “I don’t give a shit if people think I’m afraid of Zane Davis. Those people don’t know me and their opinions don’t matter to me.”

“It’s your legacy, though,” she pressed.

“If people can’t see what kind of fighter I am from the twelve hard battles I’ve had in the UFF, than I don’t see how one more is going to make any difference.”

Krista reached for her mug and twirled it back and forth. “I suppose some would argue that this would be your defining battle. Zane Davis has proven himself to be equally dangerous, equally able to defeat the highest quality opponents, and he’s undefeated, like you.”

“But I don’t fight to define myself, and certainly not to other people.”

“So why do you fight?”

For some reason, this question seemed to stop him cold. His jaw shifted from side to side as he glared at her, and she suddenly realized that he was angry. Very angry.

“I thought you said yesterday that you agreed with my decision not to fight.” His voice was low, controlled, but beneath the calm she sensed a well of rage.

“I do agree with your decision,” she said, caught off guard. “But I’m a journalist, I need to ask the questions people want to know.”

The lie coming out of her mouth tasted worse than ever, as she saw the repulsion in his eyes. But, she knew he would be even more repulsed if he knew her real job and her true feelings.

“And these are the questions people are just dying to ask me?” he said, his voice sarcastic and bitter.

“Yes,” she answered. “I mean nobody can figure it out. You cancel on the biggest, most important fight of your career without giving any kind of an explanation.

You turn your back on the organization that helped you become rich and successful and famous. You turn your back on your fans.” She went in for the kill. “Don’t you think it makes sense to go back to Vegas and face the questions? Don’t you think it might make sense to do this one last fight and silence the critics and the doubters for good?”

“You know what I think?” he said slowly. “I think you’re just like all the other so-called journalists I’ve run across. I should’ve known better than to trust you. You don’t have real beliefs, real values, and you don’t care about what I’m going through.

You just say whatever you need to say to get the story.”

“That’s not true,” she told him.

But he was already getting up. He pulled out his wallet and threw a ten-dollar bill on the table. “That’s for coffee,” he said. “And the extra is for your gas back to Boston, Krista. I’m sure you’ll get plenty of interest from the other bloodsuckers out there who will sink their fangs into that recording you got. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

And then he was gone, and she was left alone, sitting at the table with a sick feeling, and Gunner’s half empty coffee mug staring accusingly at her.

***

The next few hours were hell. She went back to her room at the Inn and curled up under the covers, crying. She felt bad on so many levels.

She hated that she’d lied about being a journalist. Perhaps, she thought, if she’d just had the conviction and self-belief to be honest, Gunner might have actually listened to what she had to say.

And even if he hadn’t listened, she would still have her integrity. But now she didn’t have that, and she’d also blown her chance to win his trust by being so aggressive as a “journalist.”

She’d blown it on so many levels, it was sickening.

And the thing that hurt even more was that she could have sworn that she had a connection with him. Even thinking about it made her feel embarrassed, because she could imagine how everyone would laugh at the idea of Gunner King liking some young girl, fresh out of college with natural boobs and no plastic surgery—a normal girl with nothing to set her apart from the crowd.

But she couldn’t help it. She knew Gunner felt something for her. It was palpable between them—it was like an electrical current and there was no escaping it.

Well, other than the fact that he had escaped it. As a matter of fact, he’d basically run away from her as fast as his legs could carry him.

That’s because I pushed too hard. He saw through my act and he was hurt and
angry. But I know that if I just got another chance…

There wasn’t going to be another chance, though, and she was slowly coming to grips with that fact.

Somehow, despite her angst, or maybe because of it—Krista managed to sleep for a couple of hours. When she woke up, she took out her phone and listened to the interview over and over. Every time she got to the end, the place where she started pressing him on why he didn’t want to fight Zane Davis, she could easily hear the shift in his voice. And then she’d pushed harder still, telling him to go back to Vegas.

It was cringe inducing.

And yet, she couldn’t help wondering why he was so defensive. She also couldn’t help but question his assertion that he didn’t care about his legacy, or what anybody else thought of him.

Was he truly scared of Zane Davis? Was that what all of this was about?

Everyone on the planet knew that Zane was a monster. The guy was big, strong, and he hit like he had bricks in both hands. Krista pulled up a YouTube highlight video of Zane’s knockouts and watched him flattening guys left and right. The knockouts were stunning in their ferocity.

Some people theorized that Gunner knew he couldn’t withstand Zane’s power, and that’s why he was quitting the sport.

All over the web, person after person was opining on the fact that Gunner was scared of Zane Davis. Comment after comment, one person after the other called Gunner a “pussy,” a “coward,” a “bitch.” They laughed at him—they said he was all hype, and that he’d been a paper champion all along.

It actually hurt Krista to read that stuff about Gunner. Before she’d met him in person, he’d just been some guy she’d read about and a superstar who worked for the same organization as her. But now she knew that there was much more to him.

Gunner was special. But he was also human.

He didn’t deserve all the hate he was getting from people.

It was later into the afternoon and she was still surfing the web and shaking her head at all of the cruelty toward Gunner, when her cell phone rang.

Maybe it’s him, she thought. But then she remembered that they’d never exchanged phone numbers, and her heart sank. She looked at the caller ID and saw that it was the last person she wanted to speak to right then—Drew Ellis.

But there was no escaping her boss. She had to answer.

“Hi, Drew,” she sighed.

“Tell me the good news.”

“Well…” she started.

“Don’t give me bad news right now, Krista. I don’t want to hear about failure. I don’t accept failure.”

“I didn’t fail,” she lied. “I just didn’t succeed…yet.”

“Why not?”

“It takes time to gain someone’s trust, Drew,” she said, rolling her eyes as she toyed with her computer keyboard.

“We don’t have time. If we’re going to make this fight happen, we need him back in Vegas by the end of the week. The event is scheduled for Saturday.”

“Everyone thinks it’s cancelled anyway,” she said.

“Yeah, but we’re still keeping hope alive. Every day I field questions and tell reporters that we’re still in talks with Gunner about making the fight happen. People don’t know how bad it really is yet.”

“Well, I’m not giving up,” she said.

“What did he say? What happened?”

“We just talked. I took it slow. He’s very jaded about reporters and the media.”

“He’s going to be a hell of a lot more jaded at the end of this if he fucks me, Krista. Why don’t you explain that to him? Maybe you need to draw him a picture of just how fucked he’s going to be after I’m done suing him, and he’s living in a cardboard box.”

“That’s just mean, Drew.”

“It’s true. He needs to hear it, Krista. Can I count on you to get the message to him or not?”

“I’m doing my best.”

“Get it done. I’m not playing games here anymore. Christ. Just get it done.”

That was the end of that conversation.

She tossed her phone onto the bed and put her face in her hands.

This whole thing had turned into a nightmare, and it was one that she couldn’t wake up from. She hadn’t had the guts to tell Gunner that she worked for the UFF, and she hadn’t had the guts to tell Drew Ellis that Gunner wanted nothing to do with her after the disastrous conversation this morning.

Krista knew that she couldn’t give up just yet, though. She’d screwed things up, but there was still a chance that she could make it right. She went to the bathroom and cleaned all the smeared eyeliner off her face, washed with soap and water, put her hair back in a ponytail.

She took some deep breaths and tried to calm down.

A plan was starting to form in her mind.

When she was sufficiently cleaned up and relaxed, she went downstairs and paid for one more night at the Middle River Inn.

After that, she went back to the restaurant next door.

Cole was behind the counter, chatting with his brother Caden, when she entered.

She gave them a slight wave and then sat down at one of the stools. “It got quiet around here since this morning,” she said, as Cole approached.

Cole glanced at his watch. “We just finished up the lunch rush about forty-five minutes ago. Things tend to die down between two and four.”

“I’m Krista by the way,” she said to Caden, who smiled and nodded. He was wearing a white apron. She still couldn’t believe how much alike the two of them looked.

“You hungry, Krista?” Caden asked.

She smiled back. “A little bit.”

“You like grilled cheese? I make the best grilled cheese in the state. Trust me.”

“I love a good grilled cheese. That would be amazing.”

Caden clapped his brother on the shoulder and walked back to the kitchen.

Cole watched him go. “He’s trying to impress you,” Cole said. “Want something to drink?”

“Diet Coke would be great.”

He poured her a Diet Coke and then handed her the cold glass. “I noticed you were hanging out with Gunner this morning.” His voice was offhand, but she sensed a deeper curiosity in the statement.

She looked at him, trying to determine why he was mentioning it, but Cole’s eyes didn’t give anything away. He could have just been making small talk after all, she decided.

“Yeah. I was going to do an article about him,” she said.

Cole’s eyebrows shot up. “Really.”

“Is that so strange?”

Cole laughed, grabbing a rag and wiping down the counter, not because it needed it—almost like it was just habit. “The Gunner I know is not a fan of talking to the media—especially not lately.”

“Well, the interview didn’t turn out so great,” she admitted. “He got mad and left.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised.” Cole glanced at her again. “What’s your plan now?”

“I’m honestly not sure.” She took a sip from her Diet Coke. It tasted cold and good and soothed her a little. “Do you know him well?”

“Is this off the record?”

“Yes,” she said. In fact, she thought, you have no idea just how off the record this is, given that I’m not even a journalist.

“I’ve known Gunner for a bit. He’s originally from Massachusetts, and he has relatives in the area. When things started getting crazy for him with all the fame, he bought a place here in Middle River so he could occasionally get away from the madness.”

“So he would come here periodically?”

“Yeah, he would come in between fights or when he wasn’t training in Vegas.

Seemed like he came here less and less the last couple years, though. And when I did see him, he was different.”

“Different how?” she asked, feeling like Cole was onto something important.

Cole glanced up at her uneasily. “I’m not sure I should really be talking about this sort of stuff to you. Sorry. I guess I was just thinking out loud.”

Caden hit a tiny bell with his palm. “One grilled cheese, ready to pick up!” he yelled.

Cole’s expression betrayed annoyance. “I don’t think that’s really necessary right now, do you?” he said to his brother. “We’re the only people in here.”

“Got to be professional, bro.” Caden looked at Krista and winked, grinning. She could tell that the brothers liked giving each other a hard time.

Cole delivered the sandwich right to her and watched as she had her first bite.

The bread was buttery and the cheese was gooey and delicious. “Mmm…” she had to wipe her mouth with a napkin before she spoke again. “That is honestly the best grilled cheese I’ve ever had.”

“You hear that?” Caden called from the kitchen. “Best she ever had, bro!”

Cole rolled his eyes. “Glad you like it,” he told her, then lowered his voice again.

“Just don’t compliment him too much, it really goes to his head.”

Krista finished eating her meal, while still chit chatting a little bit with Cole. But there’d been nothing more about Gunner, although she’d been hoping the conversation might circle back around that way.

Eventually, more people filtered into the restaurant, which made it even harder to talk about anything important. She gave up on digging for information on Gunner and left the restaurant, choosing to walk down Main Street for a bit instead of just going back to her room.