Seth
Holy fucking hell. I have half a mind to turn my car around, kick her door down and force her to ride me…I can’t imagine her mother or her brother appreciating that very much, though. I smile to myself. What a sexy little minx. She did it on purpose, too; un-doubtedly because I chose not to have sex in the shower tonight which, by the way, was a fucking hard decision, especially after I
already had her taste on my tongue. I didn’t avoid having sex with her purely because I wanted to rock her world without demeaning her in front of Jackson and Selena who, let’s face it, love to torment her every chance they get. I also didn’t have sex with her because I wanted to show her that I’m more than happy taking care of her without wanting anything in return…girl’s love that shit, right?
“I like being close to your lips…I like to feel your breath on my face or in my ear and I like it when your hands glide over my arms and shoulders.”
To think the whole time I was thinking ro-mantically, Olivia’s train of thought was the complete opposite of mine—naughty. I never intended to say that to her. It just flowed so easily from me, without thought and it wasn’t the first time today I’d said something I never intended to. I told her this afternoon that we’d have forever to do other things.
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What the hell was I thinking? Olivia and I haven’t really spoken about the future. I’m certain I want to marry her and be with her forever, but I know she doesn’t expect that from me and I don’t want to come off too strong. Will I ever have the balls to ask her what she wants? Will I ever have the balls to ask her to marry me? I’ve come close to ask-ing a million times, but I pussy out at the last minute. It’s not like me. I’m very upfront. I say what I want and ignore the con-sequences, but I can’t fuck this up. It needs to be perfect. It needs to be everything she’s ever wanted. When I said ‘forever,’ I felt her eyes on me—analyzing me. I wanted to look at her, to read her expression, but I didn’t for sake of being scared to see her displeased. I felt the disbelief in her posture. It was an un-certain hunch, like she was unsure if I’m for real or not.
I am.
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I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. I need Olivia. I need her to wear the ring I give her, carry my last name, and live in the house I buy for us and our family, if we have one. I haven’t asked her yet be-cause I’m scared. What if she says no? What if this relationship is only fun—temporary? I can’t handle that. I can’t take no for an an-swer and I won’t. To be without her isn’t an option. I run my hand over my face. There I go sounding like a fucking serial killer again. I can’t help it, though. In my mind it’s her or nothing.
***
I open my door with caution, unsure of what I’m walking into. Knowing Jackson, he’d start in the pool and finish somewhere between the kitchen and the front door, do-ing God knows what. I slip inside and close the door behind me. The house is quiet.
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There are no moans—or screams—it’s silent, as if everyone is in bed. With a sigh of relief, I kick off my shoes and pinch the bridge of my nose, hoping to fend off some of my tiredness until I get into bed.
“Hey man, you’re back.”
I stop in my tracks, slowly turning my head toward my living room. Jackson is sit-ting on the couch shirtless, but with pants on—thank fuck—and a cold beer in his hand.
I scan the living room, looking for Selena. I wait a few seconds before I respond, expect-ing her to pop out from somewhere. She doesn’t.
“She’s sleeping,” Jackson says, sipping on his beer.
I notice the way his jaw clenches and on Jackson, that’s never a good sign. I wasn’t gone longer than an hour, but I guess that’s plenty of time for them to fuck and fight.
I stroll into the living room and drop into the armchair, crossing my legs at the ankles.
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I never ask Jackson what happened. Usually, I wait until he finds the right words.
“I think I fucked up…”
I don’t say anything, not yet.
“She called me again.”
My chest tightens and I sit forward in my chair. “Amelia?”
He nods, taking another large sip at his beer. “She hasn’t called me in months, not since I moved to Portland…I wasn’t expect-ing her to call me ever again.”
“What did she want?”
“I don’t know. I told Selena to check my phone, thinking it was you, and she asked me who Amelia was.”
He shakes his head. “I couldn’t tell her, Seth. I don’t ever want her knowing who Amelia is…what she did—what I did.”
I nod. Amelia was Jackson’s first love. The woman who literally chewed him up and spat him back out. She’s a real piece of work—a sadistic, controlling whore who loves nothing
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more than to fuck with people’s minds. Feel-ings, love and sex…to her it’s one big game.
“Always playing games,” I scoff, crossing my arms.
“You should have seen Selena’s face…”
Jackson rakes a hand through his hair.
“She went to bed straight after that?”
“Yeah…”
I frown. “And you haven’t gone up yet?”
He shakes his head, his eyes flicking to his mobile phone. Motherfucker. He’s waiting for Amelia to call back. Fuck no! She’ll never talk to him again, not if I have anything to do with it. I launch myself out of my armchair, grab Jackson’s phone and throw it, sending it crashing against my wall and falling into bits and pieces on the carpet.
“Fuck that shit, Jacks. What are you doing sitting down here and waiting for her to call you back? Don’t you remember what state you were in the last time you let her sink her claws into you?”
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I do. I remember it clearly. He was fucked up on everything, drugs and alcohol—he was borderlining a trip to the mental hospital, that’s how fucked up he was. No way am I going to let him go through that shit again.
Jackson barely bats an eyelid as I tower over him.
“Put the goddamn beer down and get your ass upstairs before you do anymore damage.”
Jackson may not admit it—ever—(and I can’t believe I’m admitting it) but Selena is good for him. She’s a lot like him in a way and can certainly take a lot of his shit. I thought Jackson was moving on from Amelia, the grown-ass woman who ruined his teenage years.
Obviously not.
I can’t say what happened between them exactly because I don’t know. Jackson re-fuses to tell anyone the full story.
“I don’t want to go up there.”
“Why?”
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“Because I can’t look her in the face, I can’t explain what just happened.”
“Then don’t, but don’t sit down here leav-ing her alone all night upstairs with her own thoughts. You know how girls are, they over-think things.”
He drops his head.
“Look at me,” I demand, my voice coming out a lot more aggressive than I really feel.
He hesitates before dragging his green gaze to mine. “When you first met Selena I told you to stay away because I didn’t want your fucked up issues to ruin my chances with Olivia and somehow, I get the feeling you not going upstairs right now will do just that.
You might be having fun and Selena might not mean much to you, but Olivia means the world to me and I won’t let you fuck it up.”
He grits his teeth before raking the top row across his bottom lip. “You’re wrong.”
“What?”
“Selena means a lot to me…”
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I feel my face straighten out in surprise.
There isn’t much that can surprise me any-more, I’ve seen it all…but this I didn’t see coming. “Then prove it.”
With a heavy sigh, Jackson rises to his feet and slams back the rest of his beer. He hands the empty bottle to me and I take it.
“You owe me a phone.”
“Gladly.”
I don’t move until he disappears through the kitchen. When he’s gone, I stroll from the living room into the kitchen. I drop the empty beer bottle into the bin and flick out the lights before sauntering up the stairs in the darkness. When I reach the top, I hear quiet murmurs of conversation coming from their room. I hope he tells her and I hope she takes it well—whatever ‘it’ is, and if he doesn’t tell her, I hope one day he’ll reveal his story, if not to me, then at least to someone he loves.
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***
(T-minus five days until Vegas)
“Roll into him, get away from his legs!”
Darryl orders and I follow, rolling my hips and getting out of Jackson’s submission. I push off of him, my chest burning heavily.
Coming mainly from boxing, my ground work isn’t too great and it takes a lot out of me once I’m down. My main goal in any fight is to keep standing, be quick, and never give my back to the opponent. I get that once you’re on the ground it’s difficult to defend yourself when they’re on top and punching you in the face, but the last thing you should do is roll over and give them your back. Rear naked chokes fucking suck and will have you tapping out like a bitch within seconds. Un-fortunately for me, my first opponent is world wrestling champion, Junior Moset,
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known for his killer ground game and hard-core submissions.
“Good.” Darryl exhales, putting his stop-watch down and stepping onto the mat.
We turned one of the training rooms into a private room for me, complete with my very own cage and training mats. The MMAC had issues with the way I trained and would prefer me to follow some of their meth-ods—mats, ropes, gloves—everything.
“Now I’ll show you how to prevent a rear naked choke,” he says, sitting on the mat. He nods his head to Jackson and he slides in be-hind Darryl. “Most rear naked chokes will come in from behind.”
He shifts backwards and Jackson wraps his legs around Darryl’s waist, attempting to hold him across the chest.
“What we don’t want is for your opponent to connect his hands, because it won’t take long for him to wrap that arm around your neck. As one hand comes over the shoulder
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and the other underneath the opposite arm, push your shoulders up and keep your chin down. Then, grab the upper and clamp down on the second so he has no mobility. When you’ve done that, drive to the underhook side and put the back of your head on the floor.”
I watch as Darryl plays it out with Jackson.
“As that happens, let go of his arm and wriggle until your shoulders and hips are firmly on the ground. As you get out—and any good grappler will do this—your oppon-ent is going to try and roll on top. When he does,” Darryl slides out from underneath his opponent, establishing a half guard. “Go either half guard or full guard, keep him away with your legs, and work on getting yourself back to your feet.”
Darryl jumps to his feet. “Try it.”
I drop into a seated position on the mat as Jackson wraps his legs around my waist. As his hands come around to choke me from
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behind, I grab his arm, clamp down, and drive myself to the side. I follow Darryl’s or-ders step by step until I’m on my back and keeping my opponent away with my feet.
“Great,” Darryl cheers. “A few more tech-niques and hopefully we can perfect your ground work before the fight.”
I climb to my feet and Darryl slaps me on the back as Jackson hands me a bottle of wa-ter. He smiles at me—a genuine smile—and I assume he and Selena made up last night.
They were gone before I got up this morning.
I stroll over to the windows and hit the but-ton so I can see out into the gym. We’re do-ing pretty well today—especially for this early in the morning. Classes are cranking, we have boxers, runners, cyclists, and rowers all doing their thing. It’s good to see Rick’s gym thriving without him. He’d be very proud if he was here with us now. The elev-ated, happy feeling I’ve got in the pit of my stomach drops the moment I see him step
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through the door. My stare rakes over his bald head and seedy face.
“What the fuck?” I swear, dropping my water bottle to the ground and tearing my door open.
I hear Jackson and Darryl curse and call my name, but I don’t stop. No way in hell can I ignore that piece of shit walking around my gym.
“Don!” I shout, drawing the attention of a few gym goers.
Him and his two boys turn slightly and they all smirk at me. I clench my fists. I can take them all, right now.
“Well, well, Mr. Professional Fighter.
Long time no see.” I grit my teeth together at the sound of Don’s voice.
“Seth, don’t do it,” Jackson tells me. “Let someone else deal with him.”
I ignore him. Don is my problem, not any-one else’s. He’s heading for the stairs to the office, too and there’s no way in hell I’ll let
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him within ten feet of Olivia. I march right up to him, slipping in between him and the stairs. My entire body is clenched and ready to go. Don looks the same—bald head and an angular face with a jaw made of glass. I know because I almost shattered it the last time we fought. I came close to breaking his arm, too.
“I thought I’d come down and check out the gym set up of Portland’s favorite fighter.”
His smile widens. “That’s a mighty cute bill-board you’ve got outside, too.”
Jackson laughs. “Mighty cute? Jesus Christ.”
Don’s amused expression doesn’t falter.
“What do you want, Don?” Darryl chimes in, but I don’t take my eyes off of the bald as-shole in front of me.
“I want to speak to the manager. My friends and I are looking for a new place to train.” He turns to his friends. “What was her name? Pretty face, big, green eyes and a killer rack…” He snaps back to me with a
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click of his fingers. “Olivia, yeah, that’s it.
She’s the manager, isn’t she?”
I start forward, but Jackson slips in front of me, barely pressing his hands against my chest. “Don’t do it.”
“You’ve worked too hard, Seth,” Darryl adds.
Don straightens his grey t-shirt and smiles wryly. “Isn’t that nice?”
He attempts to step around me, but my arms shoot out and I shove him backwards.
With a growl he launches forward, but Darryl grabs him, forcing him a few steps back and into his friends. Jackson’s heels are digging into the ground, his shoulders pressing against me as he fights to keep me back from Don.
“Seth?” I hear her voice before I see her green eyes peer up at me from around my waist. “What’s going on?”
Jackson steps away, knowing I’d never bowl Olivia over to get to Don. I glance down
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at her and there’s a worried expression on her face.
“There’s the girl I wanted to see.” Don chuckles, licking his lips.
Darryl steps back, but keeps his position between Don and I. Olivia’s face falls and her eyebrows draw together. Slowly, she turns around and when she sees him, her shoulders square. “What are you doing here?”
He steps closer and Darryl doesn’t budge.
“I’ve come to scout a new gym. Some wel-coming committee you have here. Do you treat all potential customers like this?”
“You’re not welcome here.”
I step closer to her, pressing my front against her back and planting my hand on her hip for support.
Don nods slowly, clearly pissed off. What did he expect? Does he seriously think we’ll open our doors to him?
“I see how it is.”
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“Get out of here, Don,” Darryl demands, his fingers flexing at his sides.
Don runs his hand over his bald head.
“Fine.” He looks Olivia dead in the eyes. “I’ll talk to you when your dogs aren’t around.”
I step around Olivia, my chest rumbling with anger. I don’t know what happened next. There’s a whole lot of shouting and people grabbing at me, and all I see is Don’s face through a red haze. There are too many hands on me to count and I know more people have come to prevent me from smashing Don into a million pieces. Don is torn from the gym and I storm across the floor, ignoring all of the scared stares. I head straight for my training room, hearing smal-ler footsteps slap the floor behind me. He pisses me off and I fucking hate that I know I deserve all of it. Everything he’s doing to me and Olivia is my fault. I can’t even remember his girlfriend’s name…that’s what’s really messed up. I always blamed her for what
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happened. I’d always tell myself the she was the one that was unfaithful, not me—which is true, in a way. I mean, I sure as shit I didn’t force her to have sex with me. I can assure you she decided that on her own. I feel shit about it now, because I can’t help but won-der if the girl I took from Don was his Olivia.
What if she was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, but she turned out to be unfaithful? I’m not going to call her a whore or a slut because, well, what does that say about me? It wasn’t her fault, not entirely.
Anyway, screw that. Don has done way too much shit for me to feel sorry for him now though, and every time I see his face, I can’t help but think of his intentions with Olivia.
I’d die before I’d let his unnerving gaze rest upon her naked perfection—and the fucking nerve of him showing up here to talk to her!
I grab a fifty kilo boxing bag off the floor and throw it, desperately needing something
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to take off the edge. I want to fight and I want to fight right now. I pace the room, not once looking at Olivia, who steps away from the door and makes her way slowly over to
to take off the edge. I want to fight and I want to fight right now. I pace the room, not once looking at Olivia, who steps away from the door and makes her way slowly over to