Game On (A Bad Boy Sports Romance) (36 page)

“Oh, yeah, that. Well, turns out Dequan is really good at math and he helped me finish it in record time,” she quipped cheerily.

I looked at Trina quizzically. “He and the boys picked her up and dropped her off here soon after you left the house this morning,” she explained with a wink. “They all hung around for awhile and Dequan helped her with her homework. He’s a math whiz on top of being ridiculously handsome!”

“And we got doughnuts!” Alice added, gesturing to a pink box from a local bakery sitting on Trina’s desk.

“A-ha, that explains it. I was wondering what could possibly get you out of bed that early on a Saturday morning,” I said to Alice. Sweets were her kryptonite. Still, it was weird that she’d asked Dequan to drop her off here instead of just riding over with me. So I went on: “But that doesn’t answer my question-- what are you doing here? I’m sure Trina has lots of work to do and--”

“Oh, no! It’s fine! We’ve just been discussing some… stuff,” Trina interjected, unable to suppress that million-watt grin.

“Okay, seriously, you guys are being weird. What’s going on?” I asked, confused.

Alice looked about ready to explode. She blurted out, “We had to make arrangements for your surprise! So Dequan helped me get my homework done and then we all planned for tonight. Oh my god, it’s gonna be so perfect, you have no idea!”

My heart skipped a beat. Tonight? I was starting to get a little worried. What could they possibly have planned
now
? Suddenly, it occurred to me that tonight was Marc’s match. No, they couldn’t possibly be planning…

“We’re taking you to see Marc’s fight!” Trina exclaimed, throwing her arms up.

I shook my head and held up my hands. “Ohhh no. We are not doing that. Bad idea. I’ve been doing everything possible to forget it’s even happening.”

“I know, but it’s not working, is it?” Alice said, and she was right. Clearly ignoring the situation hasn’t gotten me very far as of yet.

“It’s already paid for and arranged. We are all going to the see the fight. We’ve got a babysitter for the boys, and Dequan is excited to see how the sport’s changed since he was a fighter himself. And if it helps to think of it this way instead, just tell yourself that we’re going to see Marc because you are the one who helped him regain his fighting condition. So, really, we’re just going there to support you!” Trina explained slyly.

I sighed, defeated yet again. I should have known they would pull something like this. And I knew better than to argue with them. Besides, they were right. I could totally attend the fight, just to see how my handiwork turned out. No big deal, right?

              With everything that had been on my mind for the past few days, the night of the big fight came on like a storm out of nowhere. But that didn’t mean that I wasn’t ready to face whatever was coming my way, nonetheless. I’d focused my mind, resolved my will, and more than anything else, I’d honed my body to a height of perfection I didn’t realize could be achieved before my injury.

              I was ready.

              Trevor Rockford was my opponent. I’d heard a little about him. He was a guy from a big city up north, and he’d had every advantage in becoming a fighter. Came from a rich family who gave him a private gym, had tutors giving him the best boxing training he could have wished for from the time he grasped the concept of throwing a punch. He was big, he was brawny, and he knew his stuff. And I couldn’t wait to send him crashing to the ground.

              I could hear the sounds of the crowd from the back room where I was getting ready.

              “There’s gonna be a lot of people watching you today, Marc,” Kenny was saying as I rolled my shoulders, psyching myself up to get out there in a few minutes as I was announced. “And a lot of them are gonna be rooting for you, I can tell you that much. You heard the buzz around the crowd?”

              “Sounds like they want to see if I can still put on a show, from what I’ve heard,” I answered with a chuckle, taking a few light swings at the punching bag in the room.

              “They’re gonna be rooting for you, but this guy Trevor, he’s got as much of a group of loyal fans he’s dragged all the way from up north to root him on. You’re going to have your work cut out for you.”

              I give the bag another hard smack and turn around, cracking my neck. “Ken, I’ve been itching to get back into the ring from the moment I left it last time. Been thinking about my comeback from day one. I’ll give ‘em a show they won’t forget.”

              Kenny grinned at me, clapping me on the back. “That’s my boy. I’m gonna go tell the refs you’re good to go. Be ready to charge out there and give ‘em hell.”

              I smiled at him as he headed out of the room, and once I was finally alone, I breathed deeply. This should have been the point that I felt my insecurities rising up again, my doubts about my relationship coming to the surface, and my muscles suddenly feeling tense.

              But I didn’t feel any of that. All I wanted was to get into the ring and do what I did best. My talk with Kenny and Danny had gone a lot further than I thought it could have. They reminded me that the love of this sport was what got me here, and that’s what I had to keep my mind on to stay here. And tonight, poor Trevor Rockford was going to be on the receiving end of all the fury I’d channeled.

              Just as I was readying myself to head out the door, it swung open, and one of the last people I wanted to see just then barged in, that same skeezy grin on his face.

              “Well hey there, Marc! Glad I caught you before you headed out, was starting to worry I’d never get a chance to catch up with you again!” said Nick Dewsbury. He was wearing the same glasses I’d seen him in last time, but this time, his short-sleeved button-down was black with red flame print along the bottom seam.

              “Oh, hey Nick,” I said, deliberately sounding distracted. “Listen, I’ve been talking to a few people about this contract thing--”

              “Right,” he said quickly, “I got your emails, and I most definitely took them into consideration when the legal team and the rest of us at High Octane put together this,” he said, producing a thick stack of papers that he set on the table in front of me. “It’s a five-year contract that would make us your primary sponsor for all future fights, appearances, radio advertisements, and on page twenty-one you’ll see a few clauses about television ads that will--”

              “Nick,” I interrupted him, “this really isn’t a good time.”

              “I know it’s a little last-minute,” he said, “but if you’d at least take a second to look some of this over, I really think you’ll like some of the entrepreneurial opportunities the contract affords.”

              He practically shoved the papers into my face, and with a quiet groan, I accepted them, flipping through them with a thumb. I wasn’t about to sign anything right then--no way in hell. Besides, some of the language was in such fine print that I thought even a lawyer might have to read over it with a microscope.

              “This is kind of a time-sensitive offer,” Nick said, and I glared at him over the papers. “And since I like you, Marc, I should let you know that some of our shareholders are keeping an eye on this fight. You could sign now and make the deal a certainty, but if the fight doesn’t go the way you’d like it, I can’t exactly guarantee they’ll let me keep offering it to you. That’s partly why I wanted to come see you in private,” he added with a shark-like smile.

              “You’re kidding me,” I breathed, and I looked at the contract long and hard before I heard the emcee from outside.

              “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve got a very special show for you tonight!”

              I threw the papers down on the table, looking Nick in the eye. “Look, I’ve gotta go. If your ‘shareholders’ want to try to hurry me into a deal, they can do so after I’ve kicked this guy’s ass.”

              “But--” he stammered.

              “Hang tight, Dewsbury,” I said, pushing past him and heading for the door, “and for fuck’s sake, ditch that shirt before someone sees you coming from my side of the ring.”

* * *

              I emerged from my side after Trevor had already been announced, and half the crowd was cheering up a storm for him. He was a blonde who looked twice as tough as the last guy I’d faced. He looked at me with a stormy expression.

              I noticed a lot more sponsorship banners around the ring than I was used to. I wondered how much of that had to do with Trevor. People who came from money tended to stick with money, and I doubted he was going to be any exception. I wondered just how much cash was riding on Trevor’s victory tonight. He was everything that money could buy in terms of skill, and it showed on him.

             
Good
, I thought.
Maybe this one will be a fair fight.

              “And now, the local rising star you’ve all been waiting for,” the emcee announced as spotlights nearly blinded me, “hailing from Broadview, New Mexico, and storming his way across the desert to bring nearly three-hundred pounds of muscle right here to your doorstep, recovering from crippling injuries in record-breaking time, let’s hear it for Marc Montoya!”

              The roar of the crowd was deafening as I dashed for the ring, climbing up into our arena and holding out my arms, strutting around the ring proudly. My heart was pounding fiercely in my chest, eager to be back here where I belonged, giving these people what they wanted--a match to remember.

              The referee brought us together, and even as he said his routine speech, Trevor and I were ignoring him, locking eyes as if we were trying to read the other’s thoughts.

              After the referee stepped away, we got into our positions, waiting for the bell. I sank into my stance, and I watched him raise his fists, ready to come at me with all that he had.

              “Think that patch of dirt you came from has enough money to pay for your funeral?” Trevor mocked as he rolled his shoulders.

              I laughed in his face. “No, but we oughta stop by after the fight anyway, they’d get a kick out of you.”

              The bell rang.

              In an instant, we were on each other, fists flying out like pistons. The first exchange was thrilling. His quick and fast blows was deflected by one of my blocks at every move, and as I returned the shots, his arms and legs seemed to move up from all directions to protect his body and face.

              Adrenaline ran high, and my blood flowed ecstatically throughout every muscle. I was back in my element, and I reveled in it.

              After the first series of blows, we backed up for a fraction of a moment. It looked like a frenzied flurry, but in reality, we’d assessed each other. The other man was good, but I spotted his weaknesses.

              I dove in, and as his expected uppercut swung up from below, I caught it, nearly hoisting myself up as I used his own body weight to propel myself up and knock him in the side of the head.

              The crowd went wild as he staggered, and there was fury in his eyes when he looked back up at me. I hadn’t moved like that in years, even before my injury. It was then that I realized I couldn’t have done a move like that without the exercises Gemma helped me with.

              I didn’t have time to get giddy over the success, though, as he was back on me in a flash. This time, even as I blocked his blows, his knee shot up and caught me in the hip, sending me staggering, and his side of the crowd went wild.

              Both of us shaken, I turned in time to receive his full weight crashing into me, and we grappled, each trying to throw off the other’s weight and get the other to the ground.

              “What are you doing here, Montoya?” he snarled as his head was next to my ear, arms locked. “You can’t even win a gym brawl with a mobster, that injury should have been the bullet in your head.”

              “Didn’t think you would hear about that with your head so far up your ass,” I growled back as I found leverage and shoved him back, sending him back a few feet with a look of surprise on his face.

              I dove forward immediately, meaning to put him on the ground, but the move was reckless. A sharp pain in my leg told me he’d taken advantage of the move and struck me with a sharp knee to the thigh, and I hit the ground.

              He was on top of me in a flash.

              My vision re-focused, and as I looked out onto the crowd, I saw Selena’s face on the front row, shouting at me to get up.

              That took me by complete surprise.

              I hadn’t even talked to Selena since the breakup. There were at least three-dozen missed calls from her on my cell phone, and every one of her friends who’d tried to come to me on her behalf were summarily ignored. What was she doing here?

             
Nick
.

              I fought to keep Trevor off of me, but his weight was pressing into my back, his legs trying to lock around me to pin me down, and now the thoughts of Selena and Nick were clouding my focus.

              If Selena was the one showing up here, maybe she and Nick had a point. Maybe this really all was just about the money, and at the end of the day, this was just another career that I had to be decisive and cutthroat with. Maybe it really was the better move to take the deal, get back together with Selena, and ride my way to fame, despite all that advice Kenny had given me.

              Unable to find purchase on my legs, Trevor roared and hauled me over his thigh, hurling me down to the ground to throw me off balance and get a hold of my legs anew.

              My arms locked with his shoulders immediately, and we wrestled on the ground as his fist started pounding into my abdomen to knock the wind out of me and weaken me.

              As I twisted and turned to keep him off, my eye caught something that made my heart leap to my throat.

              Gemma.

              She was out there in the audience, jumping up and down and hooting for me, the look on her face every bit as excited and fiery as I felt when I stepped into the ring. I saw what must have been her little sister standing next to her, also cheering, and Trina flanked her on the other side.

              Our eyes locked across the stadium for the briefest moment, and I knew she saw me. There was such hope in her eyes, such encouragement and vigor--and I felt the fire inside me building up hotter than ever.