Fight Like A Girl (Part One) (3 page)

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.”

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.

The fortunate part was that people didn’t
remember the curly haired girl named Maxi who followed John around.
I was a tiny girl back then, thin with almost no muscle. But I had
bulked up, gotten taller, and permanently straightened all that
curly blonde hair. When I emerged back on the scene, no one even
recognized me, let alone had any inkling I was John’s daughter. And
with a different last name, I had nothing to worry about.

Freddie took it all with a grain of salt.
He’d owned the gym when I was younger and I spent a lot of time
there, hanging out while my dad worked out. When I returned, I
didn’t try to hide who I was from Freddie. I simply told him I was
starting over and he said he wanted to help. He didn’t tell anyone
about me, and for that reason alone, I trusted him.

He’d confided in me over the years that he
didn’t think my father was a murderer, but I honestly didn’t care.
A man who ran away from the truth, whether he was guilty or not,
was a coward in my book. And I despised cowards.

In his absence, I’d become someone I could
look in the mirror at and be proud of, someone I actually liked. I
had integrity and honor, two attributes I couldn’t say I inherited
from him. Wherever he was, I hoped he knew how much better off I
was without him.

I tried not to be nervous when the door at
the gym opened. Not wanting to psych myself out, I focused my
attention on the punching bag in front of me and completely ignored
the stranger among us. After a few minutes, I peeked around the gym
and saw Freddie talking to someone in his office. My hands shook,
but I wouldn’t let another asshole like Jeff into my life; I was
stronger than ever, both physically and mentally, and I would not
be pushed around.

I kept up at the bag, giving it all I had.
After a few minutes, I was acutely aware of someone watching me. I
didn’t turn, though.

“So where do you want to start?”

I whirled around, recognizing the voice
instantly. My one night stand stood there, bulky arms folded across
his chest and a sly grin on his face. I set my hands on my hips.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Because, honestly, my reality
couldn’t
be that bad.

But it was. “Actually, your friend Freddie
asked me to come train you. It’s not a joke.” He was serious, but
his eyes shone with amusement.

Fuck.

“Such language,” he chastised me and I
realized I’d said the word aloud.

I shook my head. “No, really. What are you
doing here?”

His grin widened. “I’m your new trainer.”

“But why?”

He held back laughter. “Freddie called me. He
didn’t mention that you weren’t very smart… I might have to up my
fees if I have to keep repeating myself.”