Hooked (The Submission Fighter Book 1) (4 page)

“Fine. Then, I guess I will see you next weekend.”

“Fine by me,” he said flatly, turning to get back on the bus, not looking back at the women. But before he could find his seat, Alice jumped to reach the bus windows. He rolled his down and looked at her curiously.

“Micah, you better win.” She meant every word.

“Really guys, I’m exhausted,” Alice protested. “Can you just drop me off at home?” Jace and Pete desperately begged for Alice to give in and extend the night another hour or two. Their mentions of the dive bar down the road was the least of Alice’s wants. But what Caroline wants, Caroline gets, and she wanted more of Jace.

Sitting on the red, vinyl barstools of some seedy hole-in-the-wall, Alice realized that this was going to be an even longer night than she previously thought. Her “date” was failing miserably at small talk, as Pete insisted on practically reliving each match blow for blow, forgetting that Alice herself was there next to him the whole time.

Yet, each time he mentioned a detail about Micah or the way that the man had held his own despite everything, Alice’s heartrate spiked just a bit. Her mind wandered to the man in the ring. How she felt was unnatural and unprovoked. She wanted nothing to do with a man who spent his time beating the crap out of others for money. She especially had no interest in pursuing someone so headstrong. But, she wondered,
Why then did I challenge him? Why did I promise to be there to watch his next match, to see him defeated once again?

And instead of thinking through everything that had been said and done in the comfort of her own home, she was forced to endure hours of bland Pete. Jace and Caroline practically had abandoned the two, as they ground their bodies together on the empty dance floor for the entire bar to watch. There was no doubt—from the way that Caroline wrapped her arms weakly over his leather jacket—that Jace coming back to their apartment that night.

She knew she had only a short time before Pete attempted to make his own moves. Alice wasn’t prepared for this pressure. It was the exact reason why she avoided dating at almost all costs. Her last boyfriend of almost a year was just as gun shy as she was. They had spent the duration of their relationship in a perpetual state of “will he” or “will she” without any conclusion. And she almost loved him for it.

Now there was Pete. He was buying her drinks and shots. She was happy to take them, downing each glass as if the clear, fiery liquid would magically give her the right reason why Pete should not follow her back to her room that night. By the time Caroline and Jace were done with their show on the floor, Alice was properly drunk, and Pete was growing more and more confident that his score was going to be easier than he predicted.

The four of them walked up the three flights of stairs to the girls’ apartment. Alice lingered in the back, hoping Pete would pick up her reluctance. Instead, he barreled forward, almost taking down a tipsy Caroline in the process.

“Careful there, cowboy,” Caroline said with a teasing smile. “Don’t be so eager.” She winked at him, as Jace took her keys and unlocked the white door.

The couple wordlessly retreated to Caroline’s room. The light flickered on and then off as giggles and moans suddenly rose. Alice, instead, remained firmly planted in her living room, staring at Pete, as he gestured towards her bedroom.

“Oh, Pete,” she said, fumbling her words, “I… uh… listen, I’m... really, really sorry.” She stumbled forward, the drink hitting her balance. Pete caught her arm and led her to the couch. His body sat next to hers, leaning so close that she could clearly smell his peppermint gum breath. Again, she tried to refuse, “Pete… I’m… I—I just can’t do this.”

“What are you talking about?” he said smoothly.

She couldn’t believe he could be
this
oblivious.  “Look, this…this isn’t gonna happen. I’m not interested. Do you…are we…are
you
okay with that?”

He heaved an enormous sigh. “You’ve
got
to be kidding me,” he said exasperatedly. “I’ve done nothing but try with you. Try and try and try. And you…“ He trailed off, insult and frustration building in his voice. It delighted her.

“Look, I’m just… I’m gonna go to bed.” She attempted to stand, but he grabbed her arm and brought her back to the couch. “Pete, what are you doing?” He didn’t say a word. “Pete, let me go. I’ll scream. I swear to God I’ll scream.”

He released her arm but not before squeezing so tightly she could clearly see his fingertips indent themselves in her flesh. As quick as she could, she stumbled towards the bedroom, locking her door behind her. Placing an ear to the wood, she attempted to listen in case Pete attempted to follow. At one point, she could hear him get up off the couch and walk towards her room in a quick march. But something stopped him, and he instead turned towards the front door, slamming it angrily behind him.

The fear and the adrenaline of the night hit her soon after, and Alice began to weep. Her back was propped up against the door, and her body shook. Her hand held her other arm, rubbing the circulation back to the sore spots her date had left her. But most of all, she mourned that she wasn’t brave enough, brave like Micah, to fight back for once.

---

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Micah stopped dead, dropping his hands to his sides in defeat. He had been sparring with Brent for the last two hours with no real progress. And now, Dean was letting him have it.

“Will you lay off of me? I’ll get it if you just shut your damn mouth and let me do my thing.” He placed his mouth guard back in his mouth and centered his stance, as his partner danced forward to him holding the mat guard. Again, he tried the combo. Left, right, knee, turn. Instead, he gave him right, knee, turn. And as soon as he missed the first beat, Dean was at it again. This time, he jumped into the practice boxing ring.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Dean demanded. “This is fucking kiddie-pool bullshit. I train ten-year-old girls who could get this combo right the first time. Get your shit together.” He spat on the ground completely disgusted by his fighter’s lack of focus and motivation.

Micah knew what was wrong: Alice. That blonde in green had been haunting his thoughts since he first placed his eyes on her. He had spent the last six days searching his memories for that moment when she took his power, leaving him a broken mess. He was used to girls; they were at every event, a dime a dozen. But with Alice, there was something there. There was something under that green dress he was dying to explore.

He shook his head in irritation, as he refocused on the ring. He had twenty-four hours until the fight, and the chance to make enough money to last a full two months. Plus, it would allow him the chance to hit the big time. He slapped himself in the face once—twice—three times—and it was almost reassuring.
I am not
, he thought to himself,
going to be some lovesick douchebag wallowing in despair. I’m gonna take down the next bastard in front of me, plain and simple.
He put his head down and started to spar again.

---

Going back to work the next day was hell. Her morning started off with a near naked Jace rummaging through their kitchen, as Alice suffered through her hangover. As the two women finally made it to work, Pete was already there, schedule in hand.

“You’re working the morning and day shifts the next week.” He tossed Alice her time card. “Don’t be late.”

“Jesus, Allie,” Caroline murmured to her. “What happened between you two last night? Must not’ve been good if he’s screwin’ you over with a bullshit schedule like that. How does he think you’re gonna make any money working weekdays anyhow?”

Caroline studied Alice’s face waiting for her to explode or at least throw down a tantrum at this abrupt and unjust attempt to mess with her life. Instead, Alice smiled as she tucked the card into her apron pocket. “Nothing happened between us,” she said coolly, “which apparently is the point. So now, I get a break from him. It’ll be my vacation.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Caroline asked. “Last night, you were just, I dunno know, not—not
you
. The way you talked to that Micah guy was just, y’know,
off
.”

“He was just a guy,” Alice laughed, “and a dumb one at that. He ran into me, and then he got smart. What was I supposed to do? Just take it?”

“
Psh.
I woulda ‘just taken it’ from someone like him. He mighta lost that match, but he was all big and full of muscles. I mean, did you see that chest?” She nudged Alice in the chest teasingly. “While we’re on the subject, though, are you going back next week?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Alice answered her quickly. She knew Caroline would be on her about that as soon as she was over the stupor from Jace’s advances.

“You should go. He clearly wants you there. He practically
begged
you to be there. And you weren’t much of a help with that whole ‘you better win’ crap. Even I wouldn’t have sunk that low flirting.”

“You need to up your game then, girl.” With that, Alice went back to folding her napkins, and Caroline took over the counter tops once again.

However, it wouldn’t be the last time she would bring it up. The rest of the week was incessant and not-so-subtle questioning about her plans for the weekend. Every time Caroline brought him up, Alice’s mind would instantly put her back there in the ring with him. Her face and body replaced his competitor. But instead of Micah brutally defeating her, the two would collide, their bodies hitting one another.

As the days passed, the image of the two together became worse, more graphic. After their bodies fell with his on top of hers, Micah would rip the straps of her dress off with his unguarded teeth, leaving marks along her shoulder blades. His padded hand pinned hers to the hard mat with such skill she could never try to escape. As his head moved lower, stopping at her stomach, his caramel-colored eyes found hers. Then, he used his teeth to rip off her panties.

By Friday, she had made up her mind. She would be at that MMA match. And she would find out just what made such a man so irresistible, so erotic to her.

“Caroline! Come on! We’re gonna be late.” Alice stood in her apartment doorway with her borrowed heels tapping on the vinyl wood flooring.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’...” Caroline had been in the bathroom for the last hour prepping. Her insistence on being photo perfect was wearing thin on Alice’s frayed nerves.

Making it worse was the sound of a car horn from outside their apartment. Jace had once again volunteered to chauffeur the girls. This time, it was Alice’s plan. She had managed to convince Caroline to play it coy and avoid Jace the rest of the week. It was a total change of pace for the girl who hadn’t spent a night alone in years. Yet, Alice knew that she could use Jace’s weakness and Caroline’s sexuality to seal a seat at the night’s match along with a ride. 

Caroline emerged from the bathroom looking irritated, yet gorgeous. The girl knew how to apply makeup, Alice would give her that. As she asked Alice to finish zipping up her black v-neck dress, Caroline said, “Y’know, you force me to go an entire week without any word to my new guy—and now,
you’re
the one rushing
me
? You have to be kidding.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m a horrible friend, and you’re a living saint. But I just want to get there on time.”

“Bullshit,” Caroline spat, “you want to screw Micah the fighter. You’re not remotely interested in watching the matches.”

“Oh come
on
, Caroline,” Alice retorted. “Do you have to be so…
you
about this? Let’s just go. It’s not like Jace isn’t outside waiting for us.”

Caroline gave her a smirk as an olive branch. “Okay, well, before we go, let me take a look at you.” She lifted Alice’s arm high above her own head and daintily spun her around admiring her work. Once again, Caroline had picked out Alice’s wardrobe for the evening. Alice’s first choice had been a floral summer dress, but Caroline insisted she change into one of her own red micro dresses and a pair of her black strappy heels.

Caroline seemed somewhat satisfied, but still added, “Damn, girl. What happened to Alice?” She ruffled through her handbag and tossed Alice a tube of lipstick. “But don’t forget this. It’s yours for the night. I have a feeling you’ll need it.”

Alice ran to the mirror in her own bedroom and quickly applied the fire engine red lipstick. As she puckered, she took a moment to look at her own reflection. Caroline was right. What stood before her wasn’t the Alice from hours earlier. Jeans and a t-shirt were traded in for lotioned, naked legs and green eyeliner.

It wasn’t just her appearance either. She truly felt different. It was as if the possibility of Micah in her life, even if just for tonight, had forced her to move out of her shell and into the real world. It was exhilarating and frightening. She wasn’t sure which of the two emotions she felt more. But tonight, she was going to run with it. Tonight, she was going to be MMA Alice.  

The two women quickly hurried down the stairs to meet an impatient Jace smoking a cigarette outside the running car. He took a long look at Caroline and then at Alice. Based on his wide grin and the way he popped his lips, Alice felt pretty confident that she had hit the mark with the night’s attire.

As she looked into the back seat, she quickly noticed the three weren’t alone. She glanced in a panic at Caroline who ran to her side and whispered urgently, “It was the only way, Alice. He had to be there too, or Jace wouldn’t take both of us.”

“I really wish you would have thought to warn me. If I would have known it was part of the deal, I would have bought my own ticket and taken a cab. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Just go with it, okay? He’ll be fine. He’s perfectly innocent.” Caroline seemed so sure of herself, but she apparently had forgotten the whole story.

Alice grunted as she scooted over on the black leather seat to face her date, once again. “Hey Pete. How are you?”

“You look surprised to see me.” He looked her up and down with suspicious, accusing eyes. Obviously, he was reading into her more provocative clothing and seeing something he was not okay with.

Jace sped off into the night. Alice sat in silence, as she listened to Jace talk about the night’s matches with Pete and an enthralled Caroline. Many times he reiterated that tonight was huge for his man. Sponsors were going to be there from all over the state; a huge purse was on the line; it was going to be streamed live on some major website, etc.

And with each new addition to the match’s story, Alice’s heart filled with more and more flutters, as she remembered.
You’d better win.
She felt so silly saying it now. Surely, he wasn’t feeling the pressure of it. I mean, he just met her that one time. It’s not like she meant anything to him, at least anything worth worrying and fretting over.

But in his own mind, Micah couldn’t help but disagree. From the moment he woke up, only one thing was on his mind: Alice. The woman in green was his personal siren, calling him to win at the mat tonight. And he could not resist her song.

The drive to the match was excruciating. While he knew that she wouldn’t be there yet, he looked for her everywhere—down the arena’s darkened hallways, on his warmup jog around the parking lot, in the empty stadium. A few times, he thought he spotted her. A woman’s short black skirt and flats would prompt him to approach her only to turn away quickly from the scene when he discovered it wasn’t her.

Micah returned to the locker room to begin the pre-match requirements. His weight was taken by an official who recorded it on a brown clipboard. His equipment was equally assessed, as the same man checked out his fingerless gloves, mouthpiece, guard, and his lucky black fighting shorts. Finally, as Micah’s info was checked off from the board, the rules were reiterated to him—despite the fact that he had been a league fighter for the last two years.

The match was on. Now, all he had to do was wait for his turn in the ring.

Of course, waiting wasn’t exactly easy for him. Patience was never his strength. Dean had not made it any easier with his not so gentle nagging. “C’mon, kid! Where are you? What are you thinking? Whatever it is, it ain’t this match, so stuff it down and FOCUS!” Dean had begun his routine shouting match with Micah.

Obviously, Micah’s antics in the ring and training rooms this week had Dean running scared. His gray sweatshirt had visible sweat stains pooling around the arms, and his pacing, normally a part of his pre-match routine, had become noticeably worse. Occasionally, one of the trainers from All In Gym would peak their head in to wish Micah good luck or to update them on a sponsor they spotted in the mass of crowds gathering. In his usual fashion, Dean would chase them out, barking at the person like a dog defending his food bowl.

“I’m going on a walk, Dean. I’m not just gonna sit around. I’ll be back before the first match starts.” Before his coach could protest or attempt to physically restrain him, Micah grabbed his headphones and phone from his equipment bag and strode across the room to the door. He took a few steps out into the hallway, soaking in the fresh air from a propped open metal door. The fresh summer air was what he needed to clear his head, even if for just a second.

The sounds of the arena on his left soon caught his attention. He spun around and jogged steadily toward the noise and lights. A few watchers remained standing outside the side door, as the lights inside dimmed and flickered a warning that the evening’s entertainment was about to start.

Once inside the arena, he moved from section to section, scanning the crowd for her. She wasn’t in the same spot as she was last week. Nor was she hanging out with a girl who vaguely reminded him of that friend she was with at the bus. With each Alice-less section, he grew more irrationally anxious and angry.

Here this woman, completely unimpressive compared to his other conquests, had somehow weaseled her way into his mind. Her flirtations had practically taunted him and drove him mad. And now, she wasn’t even there. He was about to lose one of the biggest matches of his life because of some chick he couldn’t even have if he wanted. 

He could feel the anger build up. But unlike most men, he didn’t try to tame it. Instead, he let it build, fueling the flame inside of him. He exited the arena the way he came in and headed back to the locker room. As he entered, he slapped his hands together with a rousing force that startled a distracted Dean.

Micah shouted forcefully into the room, “I’m ready, man!”

Dean smiled and tossed him his match shorts from his approved equipment pile. It was time for Micah to suit up.

Alice’s anger was just about peaking with Micah’s. Caroline’s inability to get dressed on time had made the car late to get into the parking gates. Instead, they drove around mindlessly, as Alice fretted away the seconds, hoping and silently praying that the match ahead of Micah’s was running late. Her hands twisted nervously around her beaded fabric purse, as she grew tenser by the moment.

On their third or fourth round about the lot, Alice had had enough. “Just drop me off Jace! I’m not sitting in this car any longer!” She shouted bitterly, not caring how she came across to her party. To her luck, Caroline agreed and practically begged Jace to let the ladies out. He relented, tossing Caroline their tickets.

As he sped away angrily, Caroline grabbed Alice’s hands and took off on a jog shouting back at her, “I’m not letting you miss this. Screw them!”

They entered the arena in time to see the victor be declared in the women’s match. The crowd was mingling, as the octagon was cleaned and prepared for the next round. Caroline texted Jace an update while Alice stood and searched the stadium for Micah. In the meantime, the teams for the next match entered the arena from the locker room.

Her heart jumped from her dress, as she spotted his tattooed arms and body bobbing in and out of the crowd that flanked him. She couldn’t help herself, as she passionately shouted out his name once again. Over the boiling crowd, she knew he wouldn’t hear her, but for a split second, she saw him glance towards where she sat as if he could feel her presence. But he quickly put his head down, shook it gently, and entered the octagon with his coach and a trainer by his side.

The announcer began his pre-show routine, wildly announcing the fighters, Micah and Jack Caller. Just like the last week, the crowd seemed to be almost all in favor of Micah’s opponent. And as Jace and Pete finally took their seats next to the girls, they too let out a yell in Jack’s favor.

For Micah, being the underdog was almost as intoxicating as winning. With the crowd expecting Jack to take him easily, he had a lot to fight for regardless of Alice’s absence. With nothing to lose, he had everything to win. And as he shook hands with Jack, placed his mouth guard in, and nodded to the night’s ref, he felt a calm take over him like never before.

The buzzer sounded, and the crowd’s excitement transformed as the two men quickly struck. Jack Caller, fearless and experienced, jumped into action, avoiding the typical pace and starting jabs. His first hit connected with Micah—square in the jaw. His head lurched back and to the side awkwardly. His second one, a left strike, had Micah collapse to the ground.

Alice’s eyes widened as she watched the man fall inwards towards his toes and then straight to the ground where his opponent took no hesitation in gaining an advantage by jumping quickly on him for a takedown. Micah squirmed from under him, managing to hook his leg around his opponent and using it as leverage to propel himself forward.

He quickly sprang to his feet and managed to pull a spinning back kick against his opponent as a wild cheer came up from the small section of supporters Micah had on his side. Jack wouldn’t back down. Straight jabs to his shoulder, face, and head were square on, as Micah failed to block nearly all of them. His sight hazed over as the volume and force of each hit became more and more pressing.

The buzzer couldn’t come sooner for Micah. As he stepped backwards to his side of the ring, he closed and opened his eyes quickly looking for relief from the blur. Turning his head slowly to his right, he spotted something: a woman in red. She was standing, screaming his name.

It was Alice.

He stared hard at her as the ring cleared in front of him. She had noticed him, as she fixed her eyes upon him. She nodded, as if to say,
I’m here. Go win.
And with that, she silently sat down with her group. And Micah’s world flashed back into action, as the ref indicated it was time to begin. The buzzer once again sounded.