Tapped (Totaled Book 2) (34 page)

            His sinister glare was furious and he rolled his mouthpiece around in another arrogant spectacle of him not giving my power much weight. When I answered his lazy offense with a sweeping kick to his left leg, knocking him off balance, my inner voice screamed, “Now!” I swiftly drove my body forward and took him down to the ground—my comfort zone. The ball was in my court and I wasn’t giving up possession any time soon. Able to pretty easily break through and clench a hold early on, he surprised me by spinning out of it. His all-American wrestling background was impressive but no match for my Brazilian jiu-jitsu and I retaliated with perfect timing and position for a reverse arm-bar. Pulling and squeezing with all of my might wasn’t proving effective and I couldn’t see his face to know why or if he was even in any pain.

            The son of a bitch got enough leverage to get out of that as well and I couldn’t help but feel discouraged. He connected with a blow to my ribcage that knocked the wind out of me and I backed away just enough for him to wiggle out and get up. We both righted ourselves to standing and the boxing match ensued. We traded blow after blow, almost matching each other with connecting strikes. His footwork was fast and he was able to turn and cut off angles to prevent me from penetrating. I was growing tired of the chase and needed to answer his scrappy style with a little bit of my own.

            Out of nowhere, the bell sounded for the round. I shook my head in discouragement. Pat and Tony yelled at me, but I couldn’t hear a word. Liam squirted water over my head and wiped me dry with a towel, but I couldn’t focus on anything. I just kept asking myself over and over again in my head, “How can I beat this guy? What’s his Achilles’ heel?”

BREE

            Round three began and I was on the edge of my seat. Three minutes could either fly by or be the longest one hundred eighty seconds of his life. They chased each other around the ring again, Drew looking tired. He tried to shake it off and get back into the fight. Knox either read him perfectly or just got lucky and caught him off guard enough to actually take
Drew
down, attempting a heel hook hold. They were on my side of the octagon, close enough to the fence for me to clearly see everything. It looked like it was over. I prayed that Drew wouldn’t come out of the fight with a broken leg. They wriggled around, Knox trying to get leverage and Drew trying to create enough space to get out of the hold. Their bodies were slippery with sweat and it appeared that Knox wasn’t squeezing his legs enough to actually get the right angle on Drew’s leg.

            Until he did.

            Everything happened in slow motion, playing out in front of me like a bad movie. Knox twisted his core sharply to the right, hooking Drew’s leg in a contorted angle that had to hurt like hell. His head turned to his left, resting against the mat, his face in agony. He grimaced and started to bring his left arm up to tap when I leapt out of my seat, ripped away my headdress and yelled at the top of my lungs, “Noooo! Don’t you tap! Don’t you DARE tap, Drew!”

            His eyes opened and flashed disbelief as he instantly tried to turn with the direction of his leg, looking at me the entire time.

            “Spin your body! Don’t tap out! Don’t give up. Spin with him!” I screamed.

            Men tried to approach me, encouraging me to back away and return to my seat, but I didn’t move willingly. Drew’s face suddenly came alive and he propelled his upper body forward enough to change the angle of his hips, spinning out of the hold beautifully. He retaliated with some kicks to Knox’s body before he scooted himself back to stand up.

            Both men stood before one another, exhausted and discouraged, out of breath and out of ideas. Drew danced around from side to side in tune with Knox, who was tormenting him with shit talk. He kept cutting his eyes over to me, clearly distracted, and I refused to be the reason for him losing to this clown. I glared at the clock to see that just over twenty seconds remained and gestured to my wrist, trying to signal to Drew that time was ticking away. It was a now or never moment and I needed him to focus!

            He snapped his head around to Knox and rained fury, aggressively throwing punch after punch. He landed a right and connected with a left hook. He struck Knox’s face so hard that he started to trip backwards, but the fencing of the octagon met his back. Drew was determined and when he buried his fist into Knox’s jaw so deep that his eyes rolled back into his head, his body went limp and fell to the ground. Drew continued to punch one after another until the referee waved him off, calling the fight. Drew had won. Drew had beaten Hayes Knox by knockout in a huge upset.

            He backed away and raised his hands up into the air, screaming “Yeah!” The crowd went ape-shit crazy and Drew ran laps around the half of the inner ring that wasn’t occupied by officials and medical personnel attending to Knox, who lay unconscious on the floor. I stood, shouting and hollering for his win, and saw the moment when he snapped out of it all and remembered I was there. He leapt up, swinging his legs over the top of the cage, and jumped down out of the octagon to come over to me. Sweeping me into his arms in a drenching wet hug, he went to kiss me and I let him. Despite the cultural rules of no outward public displays of affection. Despite my embarrassment at the attention of the entire arena. Despite his bloodied and swollen face and sweat-saturated skin, I kissed him like it would be the last time my lips would ever meet his.

            My father and the others came over to where we were, all patting him on the back in celebration. Even my dad, surprised to see me there and likely not happy about it, beamed with congratulations for the victory and embraced the two of us. The officials ushered Drew back into the ring after a few minutes and the whole crowd started to chant “Doc-er-tee! Doc-er-tee!” I remained in my seat, my new female friends in complete shock at the evening’s events. I shrugged innocently and they looked away, except for Noura, who smiled with her eyes.

            The post-match formalities of announcing the winner and acknowledging him to the crowd all took place and eventually the audience became consumed with the next two fighters, who were, after all, the true main event of the night. I was escorted by security to the back locker room, willingly following their direction, not wanting another second to go by before seeing Drew again. When I entered the room to see everyone there still reeling from the triumph, my heart nearly exploded with happiness.

            Liam came over to me first. “Bree! I can’t believe you’re here!”

            “Yeah, what’s this all about?” Brett roared.

            “Can you believe we did it?” Tony shouted.

            They were all so happy.

            “I’m so excited for you guys. Congratulations to
all
of you!” I gleamed. “Where is he?”

            “He’s next door getting checked out by the doctors and then he’s going to take a shower,” my dad answered from the back of the room. I could feel the disappointment rolling off of him in waves and felt the need to explain my secrecy but didn’t want to do it in front of the other guys.

            “Can I talk to you for a second, Dad?” I requested. I suddenly felt shy and awkward with the other guys watching the interaction.

            “What’s to talk about? You’ve proven once again that you can’t be trusted.”

            “Now hold on a second, that’s not fair…” I quipped. “Do you really want to get into this here?” I asked, lowering my voice an octave.

            “What damn difference does it make where we talk about it?” He was fuming. “Who’s at home taking care of the gym and house?”

            “Everything is fine. I wouldn’t have left otherwise,” I insisted.

            “Yeah, well, I’m not so sure anymore.” He spoke under his breath but I heard him clearly. He furiously packed equipment and towels into their duffle bags and refused to turn towards me to have a face to face conversation.

            “Dad?” Liam chimed in. “Why can’t you just be happy that we won?”

            He turned to Liam, exhaling in apology and replied in earnest. “You’re right. We have press to do anyway.” He cocked his head toward me and furrowed his brows. “We’ll talk about all this later.”

            “No!” Liam spoke up. “What is your problem?” he asked, speaking to our father. “Bree does so much for us and we wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for her. She arranged everything.”

            “Liam, it’s okay,” I reassured, trying to get him to calm down.

            “No, it’s not. You keep our family working every day—cooking for us, cleaning for us.  You basically run the gym. And he doesn’t appreciate you!” he yelled.

            Just then, interrupting the confrontation, completely unaware of what he’d just walked into, Drew entered the room. He was drying his wet hair with a towel and looked around, realizing that it was an awkward moment but chose not to address it. His shirtless torso was battered and beginning to bruise, but he was delicious, smelling clean and fresh. He came right over to me and pulled me into a hug, squeezing me tightly and holding on for seconds longer than a normal hug. He lifted my body into the air and whispered into my hair, “I’m so glad you’re here.” I pulled away, smiling, and kissed his mouth, even over the cracked skin in the center of his bottom lip.

            Drew answered the press questions and fulfilled his other contractual obligations by taking pictures and meeting with the UFC officials. Chris ushered him around from person to person, knowing the ropes and routine of the business like the back of his hand. I stood in the wings patiently with Liam and the other guys like I was just another member of the team. No longer needing to be in disguise, I’d changed and wore a modest pantsuit that I’d stashed in the holding room and walked proudly alongside our team, my face revealed. 

***

            We departed from Abu Dhabi the very next day, all on the same flight. The awkwardness had gotten slightly better and my father had morphed into just giving me the silent treatment rather than yelling. I was honestly fine with it. I think it made him feel a little better that Drew stayed the night after the fight at their suite and Liam came with me to my hotel room.

            I had no idea how things would be once we touched down back in Florida but the mood was definitely different. There was no longer a fight looming. No big event to distract us all from the true issue. It was time that we all faced things and dealt with some serious subjects.

Chapter Forty-Three

DREW

            Two days.

            Over forty-eight hours since we’d returned to Florida and gone our separate ways at the airport and I still hadn’t seen her. We talked on the phone a couple times but things were crazy busy for both of us and we were unable to see each other. True, she had to catch up on everything she missed or neglected during our time overseas—work and her school assignments—but something seemed off. I knew she loved me and wanted to be with me, but things were still unsettled. Her father was adamant in his disapproval and not shy to verbalize it every chance he got. I knew it took a toll on her and I wanted nothing more than to be there to comfort her, or just listen if that’s what she needed. But ultimately, we needed a solution.

            My phone conversation with Dr. Greiner when I returned from Abu Dhabi was quite different from our prior talks. He was primarily focused on my therapy and how I was feeling but kept bringing it back to the win. He was outwardly excited for my success and told me repeatedly how proud he was of my progress and ability to overcome a difficult circumstance. He asked why I didn’t seem more excited and at first assumed that it was just from being tired or jetlagged, or even perhaps that it all hadn’t sunk in yet. None of those explanations were why my mind was in a different place. It was Bree.

            I was extremely candid with him during my recital of all that had transpired before we left. He knew it all—the kiss, the sex, the gifts, the surprise trip, her voice echoing through all the noise of that arena into my ears, her presence propelling me to fight, her persistence and loyalty convincing me not to give up. I told him everything, to which he hesitated—in an awkward, silent moment—and then shocked the hell out of me.

            “Well, Drew… I think it’s time you grow a pair.” He spoke matter-of-factly, his voice flat and determined.

            “Excuse me? What?” I asked, confused and sure I’d misheard him.

            “Grow. A. Pair,” he insisted, annunciating each word slowly and clearly so there was no misunderstanding.

            “Seriously? That’s your professional advice…grow a pair?”

            “Yeah, it is. Listen, you’ve made huge progress, done everything that was asked of you, and you shouldn’t be afraid or feel like you don’t deserve to be happy.”

            I sat there, letting his words sink into my brain and tried to believe them but it was hard to not allow emotion take over.

            “Drew, people mess up,” he said sternly. “Everyone does, in some way or another, at some point in their life. Most people mess up a lot. You messed up, we’ve established that. But we’ve also established that it wasn’t your fault. Don’t you think you’ve been punished enough?”

            “I don’t think I’ll ever stop punishing myself,” I admitted solemnly.

            “Ridiculous. You should. You’ve done the work and I believe you’ll continue to. Go get your girl!” he implored.

            “How? How do I just
go
get
the girl?”

            “Go to Pat and talk to him. Convince him. Show him that you will fight for her, no matter what.”

            “What if he doesn’t let her see me?” I asked, my voice shaky with fear that it could actually happen. I didn’t put it past Pat to try such an audacious move.