Long Shot: An MMA Stepbrother Romance (24 page)

Cole ushers me out of the car and grips my arm roughly. “Sorry to do this, Natalie. But the boss wants what the boss wants.” I can’t respond, but I look into his eyes as he pushes me towards the door of Frank’s Gym. Cole’s coming down now, and he’ll either be fiending for more—or coming to his damn senses.

Frank may think he’s always one step ahead, but he doesn’t know everything. He thinks he can rely on Cole, but I saw the twist of hatred in Cole’s face when he talked about what Frank had done to him.

The kid is under duress. And we’ll just see which way the wind blows.

Linda’s car sits in the space next to the cottage. I pull in behind it and park, but I feel like I want to ram into it, destroy it, or drive my car right into the yellow shingles of the cottage. But I don’t. There will be a release of this rage, but it won’t come at Linda’s expense. I know exactly who will pay for this shit—for involving someone completely innocent in a dispute that only involves me.
 

“I should have known!” I shout. “So fucking stupid!” The cottage door sits partially open, but still, I get out of the car and rush forward. I shout inside the empty cottage and run around its perimeter. There’s no response apart from the rustling of the wind through the sea grass. Pressure fills my chest, and I taste salt and metal at the back of my throat. My hands clench into fists again, and I take a swing at the side of the house. I back away right before my hand makes contact. Adrenaline courses through my body, and I run back to the car, pulling away just as Linda runs out of the door of the main house, her face a mask of confusion. But before she can shout at me, I’ve pulled out of the driveway and I’m speeding for the causeway.
 

Frank’s many things, but he’s not a creative man. He
wants
me to find him. Even in the heat of my rage, I know that he’s taken Natalie to the gym. My mind locks in to finding her, taking her back. This small taste of her—this slice of a normal life—it’s all I can think about. I crack my knuckles against the steering wheel, gunning the old Civic up to ninety, and then a hundred. I screech into the parking lot of Frank’s gym and slam the door so hard that it’ll probably fall off the car.
 

“I’ll get you another one, baby. When I can actually fucking fight again. And not for Frank.” When I barge through the doors, Frank’s standing front and center, his back against the cage where I learned to fight, where I first felt the power of a knockout. My impulse tells me to go knock the shit-eating grin off of his face, but his arm is dangerously close to Nat’s neck. Even if Frank’s hands are fucked from years of bare-knuckle fighting, he can still hurt her.
 

“Frank—man—what the fuck? We got no beef.” I stand before him, frozen in place. We’re ten feet apart, but it feels like the world is separating us. His fingers tap against Natalie’s skin, and something in my chest clinches tight. She moans beneath the duct tape covering her mouth.
 

“We’ve got plenty of beef. Want me to name it? You’re fighting outside my gym, and you’ve turned my best trainer against me. You’re not welcome here anymore—and Ash ain’t either.” I lunge forward, but I’m still about five feet from Frank, punching the air.

“Easy there, Joshie my boy. I wouldn’t want to bring Cole back out here.” Nat’s eyes flick over to the door to the locker room. Frank has his arm thrown lazily around Natalie’s neck, and he’s patting her shoulder, like he’s known her for a long time. With his other hand, he holds her arm behind her back, his sausage-like fingers digging into her skin.
 

“Cole’s a good kid, Frank. What the hell did you do to get him involved in this?”

“Everybody’s got family, kid. You just gotta find the right buttons to press. Cole’s is his mom, out in Greenville. Plus, you know Cole just loves getting a little bit high. With the right combination of motivators, you can get anyone to do anything.”

“Goddammit, Frank. Who else you got involved in this shit?”

“It’s just us, kid. For right now. But under the right circumstances, I can get just about anyone involved. It’s not just you who’s got control of the kiddies. I know what you’ve been doing, Josh,” he says. “I just don’t know why. Wasn’t I the one who gave you a job—and a home—when you didn’t have anything? You think getting your GED and paying off your debts through some big fight will get me off your back?”
 

“Nah, not even I’m that dumb. You’ll just have to wait and see what I’ve got up my sleeve, Frank.” Nat’s face is blank, and Cole stands in a corner behind the two of them. The kid usually looks as calm as the surface of a lake, but he’s edgy as hell right now. This is eating at him—he’s not this type of kid. I crack my knuckles, and punch my right fist against my left. After weeks of rest and rehab—and the small bit of training I did with Ash last week—my left shoulder feels almost as good as new. And I know I could take Frank—but I watch as his hand tightens around Nat’s neck. Fear flickers in her eyes, and Frank laughs, long and hard.
 

“I know exactly what you got up your sleeve, kid. I
got
what you got up your sleeve. It’s all locked up good and tight.” Frank’s Cheshire grin appears on his face, and I swallow hard. It feels like my face is starting to go numb, like everything around me is fading out.
 

“How the fuck?” I’ve been keeping those papers with me every waking moment, even when I’ve gone to Natalie’s house to feed the cat. But in my rush, I’d left them sitting right on the dresser in the cottage.
 

“Just picked it all up, as easy as pie. What did you think you were gonna do with that shit? Hand out copies to all the other promoters in the area? They certainly don’t give a shit. Give it to the police?” My face must betray my plan, because Frank nods like he’s got me all figured out. “Yeah, the police, they fucking hate me. Good plan, kid. You would have put me away for a good while—or tied me up in court so long that I wouldn’t be able to get to you while you set up your business. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Setting up your damn business?”

“Shouldn’t you be proud, Frank? I learned from the best. It took you a solid fucking year to realize what I was doing. I call that a win in my book.”

“Not when I’ve got your little bitch right in my grasp.” He’s goading me, and it’s fucking working. But I bite down.
Think, man. Think. There’s one thing that’s important, and it’s Nat.
I glance over at Cole and see that he’s sweating like a goddamn pig. His eyes dart around the room, and I know he doesn’t want to meet my gaze.
 

“You got me there, Frank. You do.” My words come out slow, purposeful. Frank watches my face, and confusion flickers in his eyes for just a moment. “What do you really want here, Frank? You want to fight me? What is it that you’re hoping for?”

“Cole, go get him,” Frank says, nodding to the scared young fighter in the corner. The coke may have given him a little bit of bravado, but he ain’t got much left at this point in the day.
 

“Boss—I—you know Josh has been training—” There’s something in his voice akin to fear.
This is good
.
This can be used.

“Cole, buddy, how’s your nose?” The kid lifts his fingers to the scar that runs between his eyebrows, the skin tight and pink over his nose. I know Nat and Summer stitched it. And I know the world of suffering he would have been in if they hadn’t—or if they’d gone through procedure and worked on him in the E.R.
 

“Fine. It’s fine.”

“He ain’t your buddy, Joshie,” Frank snarls. “He’s my fighter, and he’ll do what I say. Won’t you Cole?”
 

“I... I don’t know, boss. If you want me to fight tomorrow, Josh might put that… in question. You know how he is.” A grin comes over my face. Cole’s still fucking afraid of me—looks like Frank picked the wrong fighter to do his dirty work. Cole might have been able to wrangle Natalie at the beginning of his coked up afternoon, but the doubt is hitting him strong now. And he’s scared. He’s a goddamned little kid, just like I was, even if he’s rippling from head to toe with muscle. I watch Frank’s face for the signs I want to see. His eyes are stony, the anger growing behind them.

Good. Perfect. Go in for the kill.
Natalie’s shaking her head at me, the frustration evident in her face.
 

“You a pussy, Frank? Those old hands too arthritic and disgusting to fight me? Huh? You used to beat the shit out of me when I was a kid—you can’t do the same now?”

Frank narrows his eyes. “Cole, get him, or you’re fucking out of here too.”
 

Cole stutters behind Frank, not making much of a damn bit of sense, and the rage takes over Frank’s whole body. He tenses up and finally—he fucking does it. He lets go of Natalie and pushes her back to Cole, almost knocking the kid over.
 

“Pussy,” I hiss. And then I look Frank dead in the eye and wink. For a moment, he looks like a bull about to charge, and then he fucking does it. In one swift motion, he’s lunging at me, striking my cheek with his elbow and then kneeing me hard in the ribs. But I know all of the old bastard’s weak points. He knows mine too—but his scars run deeper, buried in his gnarled old fingers, the pain driving him to prescription drugs several times a day. He lives in a haze of his own nasty creation, and I know just how to undo him. Lightning quick, the underside of my right palm makes contact with his nose, and I hear the crunch of cartilage that I’m looking for, see the blood starting to pour down his face. But the rage still has him, and he’s kicking me on the inside of the groin, even as I get his face locked under my arm and start punching him in the side of the face, my knuckles cracking against his bone with every strike.
 

Behind Frank I see a flash of activity, and as I deliver strike after strike to Franks face, the side of his head, knee strikes up to the ribs, and a kick square in the groin, I hear Natalie’s voice coming to me through the haze of my anger. I land the last punch on the side of Frank’s head and he falls down, clutching at his face, moaning. His eye is bloodied and swelling. Natalie’s voice keeps coming to me, but I’m panting hard and can’t make out the words. I look up, and her lips are free of the duct tape, her hands swinging by her sides as she runs to me and grabs my arm, pulling me toward the door.
 

“We’ve got to
go
before Frank pulls some other asshole into this.” She jerks my arm so hard I’m afraid it’s going to come out of joint again, and my hand is starting to burn this time—my right hand, my fighting hand. I manage to stumble after her, and she shoves me in her car. Right before we’re about to pull away from Frank’s, Cole runs out after us and pulls away on his motorcycle, headed for God knows where.

Before I can protest, Natalie pulls up in the parking lot of the Outer Banks Hospital.
 

“We’re getting a splint on your hand, like now. And you’re not fighting any time soon.”

“Nat, yes I am.”

“
Fuck
, Josh. You can’t do this shit to yourself anymore.”

“What? Get hurt? It’s what fighters do.” The anger boiling in my gut shouldn’t be directed at Natalie, but somehow it is. I try to swallow it, try to push it away.
 

“Not that, Josh. You can’t just fly off the handle and—”

“Save your ass from a dangerous situation?” She sighs heavily, and pulls me in the revolving door of the hospital. She yanks my left arm harder than she should—especially for a doctor. Silently, she moves me through a small crowd of people and takes me back to an empty bed in the trauma clinic.

“Natalie,” I say. “Nat, I didn’t have any choice.”

She looks at me, her usually warm eyes steely. “I don’t
want
to thank you, but I probably should, goddammit. I
hate
that you fucked up your hand, and I hate that we’re right back where we started all over again.”
 

“We’re not where we started.” I pull her in close to me, and she yelps. I’ve gotten her off balance, and she falls onto me, her curvy ass right on my lap. Bringing my lips to hers, I bite down gently. Despite her anger, and despite mine, a spark lights between us. I bring my lips to her ear lobe flick my tongue against it. “And I am going to wear your ass out when we get home, splint or not.”

“Why me? Why did I get involved with a fucking fighter?” She groans and tries to get away, but I only hold her tighter, my unharmed hand gripping her waist hard. A few of the nurses walking by start to giggle in Natalie’s direction, and then that sweet pink flush comes over her chest. It reminds me that she’s
mine
.
 

I let her go and watch her as she goes to work. There’s nothing prettier than watching a beautiful woman like that, all flustered.

I barely notice when she resets my hand.
Barely
.