M.N. Forgy - Love Tap

Table of Contents Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three Epilogue Acknowledgements Connect with M.N. Forgy

Copyright © 2016 M.N. Forgy Edited by Ellie McLove Cover Photography Sara Eirew Proofed by Kim Ginsberg Formatted by Elaine York, Allusion Graphics LLC/Publishing & Book Formatting All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author ’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

Dedication

I dedicate this book in memory of my grandma and grandpa. They are the toughest people I know, and fought until the very end.



Life is a fight, but love is a war.

Prologue Sitting at my desk I chew on the end of my pen waiting for Professor Kelly to finish writing on the whiteboard. This class always drags and it being at noon I’m always hungry halfway through. Bored I trace the words stenciled into the top of my desk with my index finger. ‘Lick it before you stick it.’ Where do people even come up with this stuff? “I love how her hand erases half of what she writes as she moves across the board,” Keegan whispers next to me, bringing my attention from my tracing to Professor Kelly. Sure enough, the sentence on the left is half wiped off as she continues to write along the board. Keegan is the only person I talk to here at UCLA. I don’t know if I would call her a friend, more of a roommate and study partner. College isn’t any different than high school and I’d rather stay to myself. If you’re making friends then you’re a part of the drama. Who is screwing who, drugs, and mean girls, it’s a vicious circle. Keegan and I click because she’s different. She has tattoos covering her arms and hands, and collects everything unicorn. Not to mention I love her outlook on life. She could care less what people think of her. She’s carefree and it scares people. “Jacki, do you have your piece ready?” Professor Kelly asks. Jacki who sits in front of me clears her throat, sitting straight in her seat. “I’m just about done. I’m waiting for the owner of the restaurant to call me back,” Jacki replies. I’m majoring in journalism. I figured if I can’t do what I love, I’ll do what comes next. Writing about it. “Tatum, what about you?” I freeze. “Yes, my piece is done,” I lie. I haven’t even started. Professor Kelly smiles at me, knowing I wouldn’t disappoint. Little does she know every piece I give her is done last minute. Jacki turns in her seat and eyes me with her fake green contacts. Here she goes. For some reason I am always the target of her bullying. I think it’s because a guy she was interested in sat next to me two classes ago. After ignoring him, he got the hint and moved back to the front of the class. Either way, Jacki’s antics get old. I usually just ignore her. What is sad is she used to be friendly. Then she started sleeping with everyone and her ego became as big as the hole between her legs. “Why do you dress like trash? It’s like, an embarrassment to the graduating class.” Her friends laugh and she smiles, proud of herself. “Ignore them,” Keegan mutters. I always do.

Professor Kelly sits at her desk to work through the articles for the school paper, wasting the last ten minutes of class. Kicking my backpack out from under my seat I pull out my book and start to get lost in the pages of dragons and zombies. “You know nobody has called me back?” Keegan interrupts my reading. “All those applications, and not one news station has called. I should just give up, maybe I can be a maid,” she continues, and I know she’s about to go on her rant. I should give up reading, when she gets like this there’s no stopping her. Not one to give up, I narrow my brows to indicate I’m in some deep reading. “Ooh, I could be a sex maid. You know, the ones where I pretend to clean your house but then we have sex?” I laugh, giving up on trying to read my book and close it. “Yes, I know the kind. But don’t give up. The right job will call you back. Besides, you hate giving head and I’m pretty sure that will be a requirement when you’re a sex maid.” “Shit, you’re right.” She sags in her seat like I just ruined her life goals. “Speaking of shit, did you buy that bag from someone homeless?” Jacki flips her blonde hair over her shoulder as she eavesdrops. “I bet your mother is embarrassed to have you as a daughter, I mean, did you get your hair done by a hobo?” she continues to insult. Something inside of me I thought was dead suddenly ignites, swimming through my veins like a wild fire as I pin Jacki with a stare. “You should probably shut your mouth while you’re ahead,” I warn. Keegan looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. I’ve never reacted to Jacki’s insults. Today, though… I’ve had enough. “Aww, did I hit a nerve?” Jacki laughs. Closing my eyes I try to push through the violence wanting to be released. “Do you even have a mother, or did she just give up when she had you?” She throws her head back and laughs, revealing the trashy pink lipstick that’s smeared on her teeth. Anger thrusts through my arms and my hands curl into fists. I’m going to lose it. I’m going to lose my temper and become irate, right here. “I need to get out of here.” I shove my book in my bag and stand, trying to leave before something horrible surfaces. I have been able to overlook anything and everything that triggers my temper, but my mom… that is one I clearly can’t overcome. “Aw look, you made her leave.” One of Jacki’s friends taunts. I don’t even remember her name. They all sound alike anyway. Jacki, Judy, Janet. “Good, maybe she can run back to her momma for some fashion advice,” Jacki continues. I stall staring at the double doors that lead out of the auditorium. Just leave. Keep going. Closing my eyes, something I’ve suppressed for years breaks through its cage slamming full force in my chest. I drop my book bag, and turn on my heel.

“What’d you say?” Sitting sideways in her seat, tapping her desk with a pencil, Jacki giggles. “You heard me, you’re a—” I don’t let her finish. I leap over her friend and grab Jacki by the throat, pulling her from her seat. She screams, her fake blonde hair flailing everywhere as I drag her across the desks to the aisle. The class screams with excitement as I drop Jacki like the sack of shit she is. God I feel fantastic! Like a tiger at the zoo finally being released into the wild. I feel… alive. Day after day, I have sat in a chair behind a desk living a mundane boring life. Giving up on family, dreams, and most importantly, myself. Jacki stares back at me with mascara smeared eyes, the look of fear fueling me to continue. I smile, and strike her in the face, throwing her back on the stairs. But this, the violence, it’s what I long for. She wails, cupping her nose. “You crazy bitch!” Keegan jumps to her feet in her seat looking over Jacki laying in the aisle before looking up at me. “Holy shit!” “What is going on?” Professor Kelly jumps from her desk making her way up the stairs. “Run!” Keegan points at the double doors smiling just as big as I am. Stepping over Jacki, I grab my bag but stop as I look at Jacki who is only a foot from me. “Remember that next time you want to bully someone. Grow up.” I stand upright, shuffling my bag on my back, and I sprint out of class. Quickly, I make it to my dorm room and throw what I can into bags. Drawers left on the floor and my mattress overturned, I make a mess of the room. Keegan is going to kill me when she gets back. Swiping my phone off the shelf where we keep the Ramen noodles, a pair of scissors fall to the floor nearly spearing me in the foot and landing on a magazine. I stare at the beautiful blonde on the front of the cover. I took this magazine into the mall months ago trying to imitate the model’s makeup. Hundreds of dollars later and I didn’t feel any prettier. I tried to fit into the LA lifestyle, I really tried but I’m just different. I don’t care about fashion, or chick flicks, or the so called normal shit that girls my age should like. If LA can’t turn me into a prima donna, then nobody can. I glance up finding Keegan’s giant mirror with unicorn and mermaid stickers plastered all over it, my reflection looking back at me. My painted eyes and fake blush looking ridiculous on me. Grabbing a couple of Kleenex I rub at my face, pressing as hard as I can to rub the shit off my eyelids and cheeks until my skin is near raw. I’m done pretending. Dropping the makeup smeared tissues to the floor I grab my bags and glance at the trashed room one last time. My heart beats wildly as I flush my journalism career down the drain.

This isn’t what I wanted anyway. I don’t want to report about the best fighters in the world. I want to be one.

Chapter One

Tate Gripping the steering wheel my hands begin to break in a nervous sweat. The setting sun casts an orange glow along the horizon and blinds my already stinging blood shot eyes. The countless miles and hours of driving wearing me thin. The sign for Chicago finally comes into view and I sag into my seat with relief. My home. Finally. My chest constricts as I enter the city, my sudden unease slightly waking me from my catatonic state. I’ve been driving off and on for two days now, and I’m more than ready for a shower and a warm bed. Easing my way into the north side, my hands begin to tremble and my heart rate picks up. I knew coming back home wouldn’t be easy. I moved to California four years ago for college. Sure I flew back home for Christmas, but I always had a return flight back, and quickly. When I left home I left behind heartache, and I thought forgetting would be best for everyone. I was wrong though, because here I am… driving right back into it all. Tall sky scrapers greet me as pedestrians without any common sense try and race to the other side of the road. Pulling my phone out, I text Chloe. She’s a childhood friend who is the same age as me; twentyone. She’s the only one I’ve stayed in touch with over the years. Almost there – T Shoving the phone into the cup holder I wait at a red light and wipe my sweaty palms on my jean shorts. “Jesus, get a grip, Tate,” I whisper anxiously. Picking my phone back up, I notice Chloe texted back. I can’t wait!!!! -C You didn’t tell anyone I was coming did you? -T No. –C That’s a relief. A horn sounds from behind me, making me jump in my seat. Scowling, I glance in my side mirror and see some asshole flipping me the bird from the window of a blue pickup truck. I forgot how pushy people can be here. “I’m definitely back in Chicago,” I mumble to myself.

Driving to my old neighborhood I can’t help but rub at my forehead, and chew on my lip. The street is lined with familiar bungalow houses. They are set so close to one another that I remember being able to see into our neighbor ’s windows when I was a kid. Chicago can have a bad rep for violence and gangs, but looking at this suburb where I grew up, you’d never know it. I pass the old tree where I had my first kiss and the curb where I had my first bike wreck before reaching Chloe’s house. Putting my Explorer in park, I take a sip of my water that is now warm, needing something to wet my suddenly dry mouth. Getting out of my car I can feel my heart beating in my temples. I can’t believe I’m back here. What was I thinking moving back? Chloe busts out of the front door of her house, her long dark curls bouncing everywhere as her heavy chest nearly gives her a black eye from the low cut shirt she’s wearing. She’s always been a looker, and I almost hate her for it. We’re yin and yang. She’s the girlie type, and I’m… well, I’m definitely not. Chloe attacks me with a giant hug that nearly takes us both down as her arms squeeze the breath out of me. “Ermigerd you’re here!” she screams, as she stomps her feet in excitement. Returning the love, I pull her into me and close my eyes. I’ve missed her, and as hard as it is for me to be here without a direct flight back to LA, I’m not going anywhere. “I am,” I whisper. Slowly, I peel my eyes open, and spot my father ’s house. My eyes can’t help but drift to the house right next to it… the blue and white bungalow that I know all too well. Heartache, the one I was running from for so long, hits my chest so hard I feel light headed. Closing my eyes to catch my balance, images of the boy I used to love race behind my eyelids. Him hovering over me and laughing a perfect smile, his chest beaded with sweat, as his eyes gleamed with love. I can still see his blond hair falling into his eyes, as his boyish charm sank its claws into my soul. My heart does a double beat and my eyes water remembering it all. I still love him. I always will. Letting go of Chloe, I try to catch my breath and look at anything but that damn house. “Tell me you’re staying, that you aren’t going back.” Silently I nod, and readjust my ponytail. I left college and am not planning on going back. Not that I can, that ass whooping I gave Jacki probably got me expelled. I didn’t tell my father I quit either. It’ll crush him. If he heard I got into a fight, he’d probably crush me. “I’m staying,” I reaffirm. She twirls a long lock of her hair, and rests her bum against the hood of my car. “So you didn’t tell me much on the phone, why the sudden move? Did something happen?” I cross my arms, and try to remember when everything went wrong.

“I just can’t be that person anymore. The one that woke up and ran to classes I couldn’t care less about. To have to sit there and hear these girls talk about rainbow parties, and who gave who crabs first.” I roll my eyes remembering it all. Chloe laughs out loud, her eyes wide. “Rainbow parties! Do you know what that is?” I smile remembering how excited the girls in front of me would get when picking out their lip stick to blow as many guys as they could. I remember one guy complaining to Jacki about not wearing red next time, because his dick had looked like a red Popsicle for a week. “Yeah, I do now. I’m not sure if it’s brave of them or stupid.” “Puh-lease. You probably have some bright green lipstick hidden away just for those parties, giving half the football team a Green Lantern.” She winks awkwardly, her mouth hanging open. I can’t help but laugh. “Green isn’t really my color. I think I’m more of a red.” I purse my lips, and she shakes her head. “Seriously though, I had enough one day and just snapped on a bitch named Jacki. When my fist connected with her face I just realized I’d been living on auto pilot.” I pull at a random string on my shorts. Remembering how I would walk the streets of California feeling like a ghost. “I was miserable and refuse to do it a minute longer,” I sigh. Actually telling someone about everything that has been weighing on my mind the entire drive here feels like an elephant just raised its foot off my shoulders. “Yeah, well if you ask me you should have never left here. It’s not what you wanted, I knew that, you knew, and so did your dad. He should have never pushed it on you.” She purses her lips, kicking rocks in the driveway in thought. My chest feels heavy remembering my father pressuring me into college. How it was ‘right for me, and what my mother wanted’. I shrug. Peeking through my bangs I look at my father ’s house. I feel like shit for not seeing him first… but I can’t, not yet. When he finds out I’m not going back, the first thing he’s going to do is get pissed, then try and pressure me back to school. I know it. “How has Dad been?” She folds her arms and looks down the street. “Eh, he doesn’t come out much unless he’s checking his mail or pruning his bushes. Now your sister Journey, that’s a whole other story.” She shakes her head in disappointment. I furrow my brows confused. “What do you mean, I just talked to her four days ago and everything seemed fine.” “Well she lies. That girl’s name is always on someone’s tongue. She is a mess Tate, I tried to tell you that.” Roughly six months ago Chloe called me telling me my little sister was arrested for underage drinking. She was caught in the back seat of some guy’s car drunk out of her mind. She’s been sleeping around a lot it seems. I thought I did my sisterly duties in steering her clear of opening her legs to every man who whispers sweet nothings into her ear. I guess she played me. “Well, I’m here now and plan to put a stop to that shit.” I’ll snatch every little prick trying to come

near my sister and break it off if I have to. My eyes drift back to the blue and white bungalow sitting right next to my dad’s house. It’s like a magnet, I can’t help but look at it and see memories of everything that ever happened flash through my mind. I spent a lot of my childhood on the front stoop of that house. My mind starts to drift back to memory lane, but I turn toward the back of my car to gather my things, refusing to let it. “You sure it’s cool I stay with you for a couple nights?” “Yeah, Mom won’t mind. You know she loves you like her own.” Chloe’s mom has always been cool with me. When Chloe and her mom moved here we clicked right away. It’s always been just Chloe and her mom though. Her mother refuses to date when she can go to the store and buy a vibrator. She said, “I’d rather put up with my vibrator than have to put up with a deadbeat man on a daily basis. You can’t replace a non-working man as easily as batteries, my dear.” “It’s just until I can figure out what the hell I’m going to say to my dad. Maybe if I land a job before telling him he won’t get so freaked out.” “It’s cool, I understand. But we both know that he’s still going to freak out, especially when he finds out you got into a fight.” “Yeah,” I cringe. “I don’t plan on telling him that part.” She giggles and grabs one of my gym bags and heads toward her front door. “Hey Ma! Tate is here!” she announces as she pulls the old screen door open with her foot. Her house looks like all the other bungalows on the block, the only difference is the awning over their front window, and the purple front door. Grabbing the last bag out of the back of my car, my eyes sweep back to the two houses. Sounds of laughter and faint whispers of love echo in my head. This is going to be harder than I thought. Entering Chloe’s home Mrs. Avery throws a dishtowel over her shoulder and opens her arms wide. Her dark curls are pulled back into a blue bandana, her green eyes smiling as she embraces me into a big hug. “Tate, it’s so good to see you, sugar.” She pats my back. She smells of spices and hairspray. “Hi Mrs. Avery.” Grabbing the dishtowel off her shoulder she snaps it at me. “Girl, hush. You’re practically family, you call me Fiona, or Momma.” I smile, the warm welcome is just what I needed. “Thank you for letting me crash here for a while.” Looking around the living room it looks just like I remember. A big floral couch with mismatched throw pillows. The corner of the room still has the desk and chair where Fiona stashes her nail polish collection. She works at a spa, and does the best nail art I’ve ever seen.

“Of course, I know how your daddy can be. One day, he’ll move on baby, until then you’re just gonna have to be strong for the both of you.” She brushes her hand on my cheek as her eyes size me up. “You hungry?” “Starving.” The word fall from my mouth before I can even think about them. You can only eat so much fast food before it all starts to taste the same. “Chloe, show her where to put her things, and help me set the table. I made lasagna, hope that’s okay?” “Sounds delicious.” I smile. Sitting at the table, Fiona serves everyone a heaping pile of noodles, melty cheese, and meat before sitting at the opposite side of the table. Grabbing my fork, I dive in like a convict having their last meal. I barely come up to breathe as the gooey cheese scorches my taste buds. This definitely beats Ramen noodles back in the dorm room. “You eat as much as you want baby, you need a little meat on those bones,” Fiona chuckles to herself as she pushes her food around on her plate. “Sorry.” I wipe my mouth with a napkin realizing how savage I must look. She throws a hand at me as if I’m being ridiculous. “So, what are your plans now that you’re back in town?” Fiona questions with her mouth full. I nibble at my inner cheek as I think about how to reply. “I’m looking for a good gym, with a professional trainer,” I shrug. “Oh yeah, you still fighting and whatnot?” Chloe and I freeze, Chloe’s silently telling me to choose my next words carefully. Fiona has a big mouth, if I tell her I got into a fight she’d probably be proud and tell the whole neighborhood… and then my dad would find out. “I haven’t been practicing if that’s what you mean.” I avoid answering her directly. It’s not a lie per-se. I haven’t been to a mixed martial arts class, or even near a gym, in about seven years. It wasn’t until I got in a fight with Jacki that I realized I have been living a shell of a life for far too long. I felt alive, a rush if you will, when my suppressed anger and hurt surfaced. Some females were born to be good business women, or eye candy. I, on the other hand, I was made to kick ass. Glancing up, Fiona and Chloe both are staring at me, as if they want me to explain further. “I almost enrolled in a kickboxing class once, but it was a group kind of thing where the instructor did a move and everyone would try to imitate it, it wasn’t one on one.” I didn’t enroll because it made me think of what I used to have, and that hurt more than anything. Staying away from it all made being numb easier. “Ugh, reminds me of that nail class Ma and I signed up for, remember that Ma?” Chloe slurs with food in her mouth.

“Oh yeah, it said on the Internet they had a technician that did celebrity nails, and could teach us how to do this or that. Girl, we sat in a big room, and looked at a slide show for an hour. What a waste of time and money.” Fiona shakes her head frustrated. “So what kind of gym you looking for, sugar?” “I’m not sure. Probably something small where a coach can train me one on one. Someone who knows what they’re doing when it comes to MMA would be nice, but that might be harder to find out here.” Fiona and Chloe both still, their forks mid-air as their brows raise. “Professional?” Fiona’s voice cracks. Swallowing, I nod. “Like in a ring, with people ten times bigger than you?” Chloe’s voice rises. “Isn’t that dangerous?” “They have weight divisions, I won’t be up against someone ten times bigger than me.” I can’t help but laugh lightly. Fiona’s intense stare breaks when her mouth curves into a small smile. “MMA, that’s different from your daddy’s boxing, ain’t it?” “Yeah, it is. It’s like wrestling and boxing, and kick boxing all in one. Hence the Mixed Martial Arts.” Chloe’s head whips in my direction, her face conveying I’m insane. Maybe I am crazy. Is it hot in here? I feel unbearably hot. Setting my fork down, I take a sip of cold milk. My throat feeling suddenly dry. “Your dad will flip his lid!” Chloe spits. Fiona kicks her under the table, missing and hitting the leg, causing the salt and pepper to clank together. “What? I’m just saying…” She side glances her mother. “It’ll take a lot of work, but I’m sure if anyone can do it, it’s you Tate.” Fiona gives a reassuring nod. “You’re nuts,” Chloe objects, her eyes wide as she looks down at her plate. That’s why I love her though, no filter. “I have to say, I thought you moved to LA and grew out of all that fighting stuff. Tell me you at least let some surfer screw you on his surf board?” Chloe asks seriously. I laugh at Chloe’s utter ridiculousness. Even though I haven’t practiced fighting, I never stopped following it. Fighting is who I am. “You know, I think I know someone that might be able to help you in the whole fighting mumbo jumbo.” Fiona gets up from the table, leans over the kitchen table, and plucks a pen and paper from her purse next to the sink. “Really? Who?” Chloe and I ask at the same time. Fiona turns, and hands me the paper. It has a random address on it. “Go there tomorrow.” She points at me. “Don’t leave until you show them what you got Tate.” My

heart skips a beat. A real gym, a real chance at doing what I love. “I’m proud of you Tate. Don’t let anyone crush your dreams, especially those who are close to you. Move forward baby girl,” Fiona inspires. Fiona blew up an air mattress on the floor and from first glance you’d think it’d be uncomfortable but as soon as I slip under the sheets my eyes grow incredibly heavy as I stare at my phone screen. I’ve been YouTubing basic MMA moves. Some I remember doing when I was kid, others are a little more complex. I really need a test subject to try these out on. I wonder if Chloe would be a willing participant? “Hey Tate, you awake?” Chloe’s voice breaks through my haze. “Kinda,” I croak, setting my dying phone down. “You sure you know what you’re getting yourself into? I’ve watched those fights at the bar before, they’re… intense.” “I’ve been practicing judo since I was a kid. Even when my father forbid me to fight anymore. I’ll never know unless I try,” I reply sleepily. “I remember you sneaking to those classes with Camden.” I tense hearing his name for the first time since I’ve been here. God, I miss him. I’d do anything to see him again so can explain why I left. Memories of a little blond haired boy and me faintly flash in the back of my mind. My heart aches, and I shake my head of the tormenting images. “I may be inexperienced, but I learned a lot as a kid and recently looked a lot of basic moves up. What not to do, and what to do in a situation, that kind of thing.” I sigh heavily, not feeling like I’m explaining myself clearly. “I can’t explain the way I feel when I’m slamming my knuckles into someone’s face. I just—I feel in control of my life when I’m the one delivering the pain for once.” I roll over, facing the wall. “I don’t have to have it all figured out, I just need to move forward.” She scoffs, but doesn’t respond, allowing me to drift into a deep sleep. *** Police sirens startle me awake. Peeling my eyes open, red and blue lights flash along the walls of Chloe’s room. “What is that?” I groan pulling myself from the floor. Growing up we hardly ever saw police in this area. Has it gone downhill over the years? Chloe groans pulling her pillow over her face. Getting up I step on her bed to look out the window. Spreading the blinds apart, I spot the cop car stopping in front my old house and what looks like my sister and Dad outside yelling at each other. Adrenaline wakes me like a cold glass of water to the face.

“Shit!” Jumping off Chloe’s bed I nearly trip on the air mattress rushing out of the house. “What is it?” Chloe hollers, but I don’t stop. Exiting her house, the screen door slams as I run four houses up. “No, you don’t understand, Daddy,” Journey pleads, her hands pressed up against my father ’s chest. “I understand alright and he’s going to jail!” My father points over Journey’s shoulder. Following his finger I spot a guy wearing a red baseball cap backwards, a smug expression on his face while he crudely grabs at his crotch. The cop gets out of his car, and tugs at his utility belt. “Daddy, it’s not his fault I shouldn’t have…” Journey stops short and lowers her head. The streetlight shines on her face and I notice her nose is bleeding. Not caring that either of them know I’m here, I stomp forward. “What the hell happened?” My tone not hiding the panic in my voice. Dad and Journey’s eyes both snap to me. “Tatum?” Dad questions, squinting his eyes. “When did you get in? Where-“ he stops midquestion looking behind me. Turning to see what he’s looking at, Chloe and Fiona are standing in the street. Fiona’s arms are crossed, and Chloe is biting on her nails anxiously. “I’ll explain later. What happened here?” I gesture toward Journey. Dad nods, and focuses his gaze back on Journey. “I’m not entirely sure, I’m just getting pieces of the story. He dropped her off at home, and I came out to tell her how late it was and I spotted her face. A neighbor must have called the cops.” Dad looks around the neighborhood curiously. “Hello there, I’m Officer Gregor, I got a noise complaint.” “That asshole hit my daughter. Take him in!” Dad points toward the guy standing at the end of the driveway. “NO!” Journey nearly screams. “Scotty didn’t do anything. I’m trying to tell you that!” “So, he didn’t hit you?” Officer Gregor raises a skeptical eyebrow. Journey bites at her lip, looking at Scotty. “No.” She’s lying. When she lies, her head falls, her eyes looking anywhere but directly at you, and she bites her bottom lip. “So what happened to your face then?” The officer interrogates. “I just, I got a bloody nose. I get them a lot.” She shrugs, looking down. “No you don’t,” I sneer. Her head snaps up, and she glares at me. The officer rolls his neck. “Look, do you want to press charges or not kid?” “No!” Journey steps in.

“Yes!” Dad interjects. “Sir, I’m afraid the gentleman hasn’t done anything to you for you to press charges.” My dad snarls in response. “So you’re not going to do anything?” “I didn’t say that. I’m going to escort him off the property, and if you have any more problems give us a call.” The officer looks at Journey with a disgusted look and walks over to Scotty. “You lied,” I growl. Journey tosses her long wavy hair over her shoulder, she looks thinner than usual. “I love him, Tate.” “Love?” I can’t help but snarl at the word. “He obviously feels the same. How long have you been together? What do you even know about him?” I ramble. “We have been together a month, and I know a lot about him, thank you very much,” she snaps. I shake my head. Chloe was right, Journey is a mess. Blood drips from her inflamed nose, staining her dress. “Yeah, it looks like love.” My tone drips with sarcasm. Glancing back at the officer and Scotty, they are walking different ways. The officer back to his cruiser, and Scotty is headed toward a newer model Mustang. “When did you get in?” Dad asks. He has that face, the one with disapproval. It reminds me of someone being constipated. “Um, yesterday.” “Yesterday?!” “It’s late, I’ll explain in the morning.” Dad’s brows fall inward. “Everything okay?” The Mustang drives away, and the cop follows. Keeping my eyes on the taillights I reply, “Yeah, everything is fine. Just left school early.” He sighs, clearly frustrated with me. “What does that mean?” Lowering my head, my shoulders tense. I am stressed to the max and would fall to my knees in praise if I could unleash the anger running through my veins right now. I can’t think when I’m this pent up. I just need to get this over with and tell him. “I dropped out of school. I’m back home. For good.” I don’t lie, I just tell him half the truth. “WHAT!?” His voice echoes through the neighborhood. I’m sure the cop is going to be turning around for a round two at the Davis household tonight. Bringing my stare to Dad’s, I square my shoulders and lift my chin. Coming here is what I want. One hundred percent. I am not backing down. Not this time. “I’m sorry Dad, but school is not for me. You told me to try it out, and I did. Truth be told, I gave up trying long ago, I just didn’t want to hurt you so I stayed there and was miserable. I gave up

everything! Things I can never get back!” My heart aches as I look at the house next to my dad’s. You know when some people say you don’t know what you had ‘til it’s gone, well that happened to me. I had an amazing guy who was my best friend and I gave it up. I had a road paved for fighting, and I left it behind. Mourning and grief make an eighteen-year old girl more vulnerable than you might think. I was confused, and I didn’t know what to do. So I made a choice I thought was right and tried to move forward. Rolling his lips onto each other, Dad’s nose scrunches in anger. The blood rushing to his face makes the scars of his previous life shine with honor. A lot of people might be afraid of my dad’s temper, but not me. I like it when he’s mad, it reminds me of the dad I used to have. “You’re making a mistake,” he seethes. “Maybe.” I shrug. “But at least it’ll be my decision and my mistake to make.” “Your mother would be so disappointed,” he jabs, and my nose flares as my chest constricts with sadness. “That’s a low blow for someone who doesn’t fucking box anymore.” His eyes go as wide as saucers. I’m not supposed to bring up his boxing career. He gave up everything too after we found out Mom was sick. Our lives fell apart after that. “Just stop!” Journey holds both her hands out, as if she’s trying to split us up. Her tie dyed dress swaying at her feet. Journey sniffs, running her hand under her bloody nose. “I can’t believe you let him hit you.” I flex my fingers. If that cop hadn’t been there, I would have decked that asshole. “I don’t hit people Tate, I love them.” I palm my face. “Oh my God, you’re a hippie. When did this happen?” I groan in disbelief. “At least she listens to me,” Dad snides, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right, because eating flowers, shitting rainbows, and getting smacked in the face by your boyfriend is ideal over me dropping out of school to fight professionally.” They both look at me stunned. “You’re what!” My dad rubs at his chin, his face as white as cotton. Shit, I didn’t mean to let that last one slip. “Don’t even!” I point at him, warning him he’s edging on my last nerve. “I forbid it!” Dad looks at me with a blister red face. “Funny thing, I don’t care what you want anymore. You don’t want to fight that is your decision and your life. But, I’m living mine now.” “I can’t believe you’re going to pick the fighter ’s life when you have so much more going for you.” Dad shakes his head, not daring to look me in the eye.

“I’m not picking the fighter ’s life, the fighter ’s life chose me!” I point to myself, hollering so loud I can feel my face flush with anger. He used to be a boxer, a damn good one at that. It’s in my blood to fight, and I can’t help that. “You need to relax.” Journey’s bushy brows peak. “Smoke some weed or something guys, geez.” Dad tilts his head to the side, shifting on his feet. “You smoke pot, Journey?” His question doesn’t come out like he’s angry anymore. No, it comes out as if he’s about to ask her for a joint. What the hell have I walked myself into? Hollowing my cheeks I blow out an irritated breath and turn on my heels to head back toward Fiona and Chloe. “You know what, I’m going back to bed. I don’t have the energy to deal with this right now.” “Nice to know your best friend will let you sleep on her couch when you’re homeless!” Dad sneers from behind me. Lifting my hand, I flip him off and keep walking. “Glad to be home too, Dad!” Camden Steel A wave of thunder slams in my head, echoing into a storm of pain. Groaning I rub the heel of my palm into my eyes. “UP!” The blinds are pulled open and the damn sun from hell burns into my skin. Rolling over, I shove my head into my pillow. “What the fuck Kaley?” Kaley is my assistant/publicist, and she’s a pain in my ass. One that won’t seem to go away. Everyone from my team has pretty much up and left when I went into hiding, except her. She’s either really stupid, or very loyal. “Come on, today is the day we are going to jump back!” “I’m going to stop you right there.” I hold my hand up interrupting her. Swinging my legs over the bed, I peel my left eyelid open and find her standing in front of the window with a hand on her hip, the other hand carrying a folder. “Today is the day for nothing. How many times do we have to do this before you get that?” She bites her bottom lip, and adjusts her thick black framed glasses. Shaking my head, I stand and stretch. My muscles are stiff and object to the strain. I grab my gray sweats off the floor and shuffle them up my legs, tying the strings snugly. Looking up I find Kaley eyeing me. I smirk, catching her red handed. She wants the D. “Okay well…” she mumbles, looking anywhere but at me. Her dark hair falling into her face. Striding up to her, I flick a strand of hair falling in her face. “Say the word sweetheart, I’m into the whole fucking my assistant so hard her glasses fog.” Her cheeks flush, as she swats my hand away.

“Nice try Mr. Steele. I’m not interested.” Her chest rises as if she’s holding her breath. She’s lying. “You sure about that?” Tilting my head to the side I can’t help but smirk. She adjusts her glasses and eyes the bed behind me. Glancing over my shoulder I find the girl I took to bed last night passed out. Her makeup is all over the pillow and her hair is frightful from all the styling shit she has in it. “I’m not into sloppy seconds Mr. Steel.” “Seconds can be just as satisfying as firsts Kaley.” Swallowing hard, she fidgets with her hands. “I need coffee.” Rubbing the back of my neck I leave the room heading to the kitchen. Heels click along the cemented floor, the smell of Kaley’s perfume making my head hurt more than it already is. It’s not from drinking either. More like the lack of. I’m a recovering alcoholic. At least that’s what the therapist, I’m ordered by the court to see weekly says. Setting up the Keurig I watch it stream hot water into the cracked ceramic cup. “When are you going to unpack?” Kaley asks, stepping over boxes. Twisting my lips into thought, I look around the room. It’s a shit apartment compared to where I had been staying. It’s much smaller, and older. I think it was an old firehouse or something. “What’s the point?” I won’t be able to afford rent here much longer. Fortunately for me, the people who were renting my parents’ house finally vacated, so I can live there if I need to. Only reason I haven’t yet is because of ghosts. Every time I step foot in that house, I can hear Tatum’s laugh haunt me. “I don’t know, maybe it’ll help get that stick out of your ass if you sink your feet in somewhere.” I raise a brow at her flippant tone. “So, the sports channel called and was wanting to set up a—” “No.” I cut her off. We do this everyday. She tries to set me up with multiple promotional opportunities, and I always tell her no. Fighting in front of a camera… I’m over it. I’m done. My last stint made sure of that. “Okay. The MFC wants to set up a fight with—” “No.” “Well, newscaster Tom Brenny wants an interview?” “Nope.” I emphasis the p as I flip on the TV. She sighs, lowering her clipboard. “Why are you doing this to yourself?” She groans in frustration. “Why are you still here? I haven’t paid you in three months, and you don’t want to fuck.” I shrug, grabbing my fresh cup of coffee. It’s not because she’s not good at what she does why I haven’t paid her. I can’t afford her anymore. Her eyes fall as she adjusts her board. “Because I refuse to believe you’re done. You’re Camden Steel, you don’t just quit.”

“Thanks Jen, this is the week everyone is preparing for Jake ‘The Snake’ Adams to return to Chicago today after his big win in the ring this weekend in Arizona.” My eyes focus on the TV as the morning sports channel comes on. “If you remember Jake was born and raised here, and is one of two MMA fighters that flourished from this very city. Camden Steel is also from here, but as you may remember Camden’s fighting career came to a halt after his last stunt in Las Vegas,” Jen the news anchor continues and I cringe at my name. The screen switches from the two of them to the footage of me racing down the freeway in a red Spyder with dozens of law enforcement right behind me, my hand reaches out of the window and flips off the helicopter that was hovering above. They love to show that one over and over. I wish everyone would just fucking forget it, and me. “After the car chase that led him across Las Vegas, he has seemed to finally keep himself out of trouble, and the public’s eye. We tried to reach out to Camden and his team for an interview to explain his actions, and were told no comment in response,” news anchor Sharon informs everyone. “Such a shame. Wherever he is, I hope he’s getting the help he needs,” news anchor Jen shakes her head. “I agree. Hopefully the fame won’t get to Jake Adams.” Turning the TV off I turn and slam the mug on the counter. Cracking it more. The heat on my face becoming unbearable. I need to get out of here. “You gotta admit, that was some exit.” Kaley grabs my cup and takes a sip. My brows rise in surprise. “I’m not going anywhere, I know that you will be back in that ring and I’m going to be here when you do.” She rests her elbows on the counter. “Why?” “It’s not everyday a newbie like me lands a celebrity like yourself. Sure they may have handed me over to you after you started your downward spiral, but I will be here when you return to the top.” I squint my eyes at her. “You’re wasting your time. I’m not going back.” I don’t fight because of my demons. But the passion to still practice and just release the adrenaline is still there. I love fighting, I just don’t trust myself in a ring with competition. “I don’t believe that. Now, tell me what I can do.” I blow out an irritated breath. I need to hit the gym, my body feels wound up like a damn jack in the box. “You want to help?” I grab my gym bag from the floor. “Get—” “You can’t remember her name can you?” Kaley asks smugly. This isn’t the first time I’ve asked her to get my one-night stands out afterwards. I don’t like to deal with the ‘who calls who’ and shit afterwards. I feel bad when they want more and I don’t.

“Of course I remember her name,” I scoff. I don’t. After knowing each other ’s names, comes feelings. “Sure you do. I got it, like usual.” Kaley sighs so heavily, the hair in her face blows to the side. I can’t help but smile in return. She doesn’t want to go anywhere, that’s fine by me. She can take care of shit I don’t want to in the meantime.

Chapter Two

7 Years Old Tate “Come on baby, I need to get to the church, Mrs. Bailey locked herself out again and I’m the only other person with a key.” My mom shakes her head as she pulls the pie from the oven for our new next door neighbors. That’s my mom, always doing the right thing. Daddy says she has a big heart. “Do we have to go over there?” I whine, pulling my hair into a tight ponytail. “Yes. It’s the neighborly thing to do. Besides, they might have a little girl you can play with this summer. Wouldn’t that be ni- Tatum Davis, do you always have to put your hair up? It’s looks so pretty when you wear it down.” My momma puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head to the side. Momma is always trying to girly me up. I hate it. To emphasize my disliking of such a thing I point my finger down my throat and act as if I’m gagging. She laughs at my reaction and puts an oven mitt on to carry the hot pie. “How come Journey doesn’t have to go?” “Journey is at summer camp, you know that.” “We can wait for her,” I suggest. “Stop trying to get out of this. You’re going. Now come on, let’s go make some friends.” Rolling my eyes, I follow her out the front door. Why does she have to be so nice all of the time? Crossing my arms I drag my feet as we walk next door. A moving van is pulled onto the lawn of the blue and white house, and there’s a bunch of empty boxes along the curb. “When we’re done I want you to head back home and clean up for supper. Daddy should be home from his trip soon and I want you looking your best,” Momma informs. My eyes perk as a big grin spreads across my face. “Tonight? He’s coming home tonight?” I ask excited. Daddy is a professional boxer, and has been away for a week for a fight. I love it when he comes home, he doesn’t press me to be someone I’m not. Pink dresses. Stupid hair bows. Dolls. I may puke if I keep going. Maybe he will spar with me! I’m getting good at the right, right, jab. Momma rings the doorbell and runs her hand along the top of my head before pulling the hair ribbon from my hair. “Hey!” I smack at her hands, glaring up at her. The front door swings open and a tall woman with blonde hair with streaks of black stands there.

She has on a white blouse, and green khaki shorts. Her makeup has ran as if she’s been sweating or working out, leaving streaks of black around her blue eyes. “Well hello there,” she greets with a friendly tone. “Hi, I’m Marlow Davis! This is Tatum. I’m married to Nicky Davis. We live next door.” Momma points to our red and white house. “I’m Kelly Steel, my husband Andrew is around here somewhere.” She smiles. “Mom, I did what you asked can I go play now?” A boy with blonde shaggy hair walks around Kelly and stares up at her before noticing my momma and I standing here. “Camden, this is Marlow and her daughter Tatum. They’re our neighbors.” His eyes never leave mine, as he assesses me. “Tate. You can call me Tate,” I inform. Mom shifts the pie in her hands, and nearly drops it. “Here, let me show you inside so you can set down that delicious looking pie,” Kelly laughs, waving my momma in. She looks down at me, her eyes telling me she really doesn’t have time for this because she needs to get to church, but Kelly wouldn’t know that look. “I’ll- I’ll be right back,” she whispers. “Okay.” After our moms enter the house Camden stares at me awkwardly. “What kind of name is Tatum for a girl?” Camden sneers, his arms crossed as he glares at me. I scowl. “A cool one. What kind of name is Camden?” He shakes his head. “Whatever.” Chewing on my nail like Daddy does, I wait for Momma. Camden looks around the neighborhood and sighs. “This place sucks.” Spitting my nail out I say, “It’s not so bad. There are a lot of other kids you can play with this summer, if that’s the kind of thing you’re into.” His gaze locks with mine and I notice for the first time that his eyes are so blue they look like an aqua crayon. “What do you mean? Are you not into playing with other kids?” I shrug. “I don’t really like to do what the other kids do.” They like playing house, or drawing with chalk a lot. You can only draw so many flowers and rainbows with dust before it gets old. “Oh yeah, and what do you like to do?” I smile, excited he asked. “Fight. I like to box, and wrestle others.” I ball my fist up showing him how big it is, waving it between us. This seems to grab his attention because he fists his hand too. “I bet I can hit harder,” he insults. Scrunching my nose, I punch him in the arm as hard as I can, pushing him back a step. “Hey!” he whines, rubbing his arm.

“My daddy is Knock Out Nicky, so the bet wasn’t very fair.” “Your dad is Knock Out Nicky!” He nearly bounces on his feet with excitement. I smile proud. “Yup, and one day—” He slugs me right in the arm, catching me off guard. “Ouch, that hurt!” My nose wrinkles with anger, my cheeks suddenly warming. “Told you I can hit harder,” he taunts. Having enough, I shove him. “No you don’t!” “Hey, don’t shove me.” He pushes me back. Pursing my lips, my nose wrinkled, and brows furrowed I charge him like I’ve seen Daddy do to his opponent in the ring. Locking my arm around his neck I bring him to the ground. Daddy doesn’t do that, that’s my move. “Get off me!” he struggles in my hold. “Take it back!” “Never! You hit like a girl!” He did not just say that! “Oh yeah, well you hit like a boy!” I insult before punching him in the mouth. My hit doesn’t seem to faze him, which distracts me. Why didn’t he cry? Taking the opportunity he slips his arm around my body and wrestles for control. My head scrapes along the cemented porch and I cry out with pain. “You going to cry?” He laughs. “I don’t cry!” I try and jab my fist into his gut, but miss. “Hey! Hey! Hey!” My momma scolds from behind us. Suddenly I’m ripped from Camden, just as his mother pulls him from me. “I’m so sorry about this Kelly!” my mother apologizes. “Her daddy boxes, and we’ve been having a really hard time teaching Tate it’s not okay to hit.” “He started it first!” I point at Camden. “No I didn’t, she did!” he lies, blood stinging his bottom lip. I smile at the victory. “Camden!” His mother scolds. “It’s alright Marlow, Camden is no angel, he has a thing with fighting as well. He’s been expelled from school more times than I care to count.” Momma pushes me in the lower back. “Go, get back home ‘for I give you a whipping!” Glaring at Camden, I turn and head back home. But not before sticking my tongue out at him first.

Chapter Three

Tate Sitting on the steps of Chloe’s house I palm the cup of joe, and blow the steam swirling from it. It’s windy, and warm outside this morning. Sweat beads at the back of my legs as I embrace the quietness. “‘Sup ho?” Chloe plops her ass right next to mine. “You going to see your dad this morning?” Glancing up the street I spot my old man spraying bushes out front. “Hell no.” I pick at the peeling paint of my nail polish. After our conversation last night, I think we both made it clear what we think of my being back. Looking above the rim of my mug as I take another sip I eye the blue and white bungalow sitting next door. “He still comes through here you know.” My eyes snap to hers. “What? Who?” I try to play off that I don’t know what she’s talking about. “Camden, he comes through here a couple times a week. Checks on the house and things, some say he is renting the place out.” She looks down the street, her lips scrunched in thought. Hearing his name is a karate kick to my heart. Closing my eyes I see his face, his crooked grin, and perfect lips. It hurts just as much today as it did four years ago. I miss him, and hate myself for leaving. “He still lives here?” I point down to the ground. “Like in Chicago?” “Yup. Ever since his falling out with the law. Did you hear about that?” She looks back at me, her perfectly plucked eyebrow raised. Camden Steel, my first love and first heartbreak. I tried hard to forget about him, but it was kind of hard when his face was plastered all over my TV as the next big thing that hit MMA. Last time I saw him, he wasn’t the little boy I left behind anymore. No, he was a beast that brought me to my knees in front of my television. I’d thud my head against the television screen while I chanted how stupid I was for walking away from that. “Yeah, I heard he got in some trouble with the law and he hasn’t been in a match since… or something. Whatever.” I try to play it off like I don’t keep tabs on him, and stare into my coffee cup. “Hmm.” Chloe doesn’t believe me, I can tell. “You sure about going pro?” “I am. I have had a lot of time to think about it, and it’s what I want. If I don’t make it at least I can say I didn’t back down without a fight.” She laughs. “Takedown Tate’s still got it.” I roll my eyes and laugh. Chloe and Camden gave me that name when I was twelve. We set up a makeshift ring made out of mattresses, pool noodles, and bungee cords one summer. Chloe charged

five dollars a person to watch me take on anyone who was brave enough to step into the ring. I won three out of four. Camden was the one I lost. “I don’t know about all that,” I chuckle. “Please, I saw you fight when you were popping those little titties,” she flicks my tit. “So don’t get all modest on me.” Cupping my stinging breast, I glare at her. “I’d flick you back but I’m a little afraid of your chest.” I mock their impressive size. She laughs and readjusts her top. “Yeah I thought about getting a reduction but that’d take a lot of tips from the spa. Plus, they get me out of a lot of shit.” Chloe has always been a daredevil, which has gotten her in trouble a couple times growing up. I doubt it’s any different now. “I’m sure they do.” I shake my head, and go inside to get ready. Throwing my hair into a top knot. I dress in a white sleeveless shirt, and some black spandex capri pants. It’s all about being comfortable to me. Maybe that’s why I’m single. I’d rather be in exercise gear and comfortable underwear, than wear high heels, and a maxi dresses with butt floss. I tried it once and was picking my butt all day. I don’t know how girls do it. So… single I’ll be. Maybe I should take Fiona’s advice and buy a vibrator. “I’ll be back later!” I holler heading out the front door. “Good luck!” Fiona shouts from the kitchen. “Knock ‘em dead!” Getting in my car I punch in the address Fiona gave me into my phone’s GPS. It’s about thirty minutes away. Heading that way I jam out to some old school Beyoncé. Looking at my phone I notice I’m getting close to the location so I slow down. There are several small businesses on each side of the road, but nothing resembling a gym of any sort. I look at the paper Fiona gave me. Hoping for a name of a business to help indicate where the hell I might be going. There’s nothing though. Just the address. “Shit,” I murmur. Glancing all around for anything gym related I spot an older building across the intersection. The siding is made up of gray metal, and above the windows that line the front of the building there’s sun faded letters reading ‘GYM’. Exhaling a breath I drive that way. Pulling into the parking lot I find an older Range Rover parked up front and couple of other nice looking cars next to it. I raise my brows in question. I wonder how much a coach is going to cost me by the looks of these nice cars. Unbuckling my seatbelt I grab my pink gym bag and get out. Shit. I’m really doing this. My back sweats and my heart thuds in my chest while I look the old building over.

“I can do this. I can do this.” I reassure myself. Throwing my duffle bag over my shoulder I pull the front door open to the establishment. Instantly I’m greeted with the smell of sweat and leather. Grunts sound from all over as various muscled men slam their fists and bodies into each other, or bags. It’s not a huge gym, but it’s spacious enough. Walking in there’s a desk with nobody behind it. Bottles of vitamins and fighting gear line the shelves behind it. Looking left there is a giant ring taking up most of the space with numerous fighting bags and equipment surrounding it. Swallowing hard, my throat is suddenly dry. “Look, I said I was sorry!” A squeaky voice catches my attention. Looking over my shoulder I find a short young man with dark unruly hair. He looks to be maybe sixteen. “Johnny, I’m sorry but it’s the third time you’ve done this. I can’t keep replacing these damn things.” An older man looking to be about fifty stands in front of the kid, displaying a pink jockstrap in one hand and an old gym rag in the other. “You know how superstitious these guys are over their stuff. Go down on 5th Street where the ice cream parlor is, the owner is my brother. He’ll give you a job.” “FINE!” Johnny turns around, nearly slamming into me before sprinting out. The older man grumbles under his breath as he looks the pink jock strap over. I clear my throat to catch his attention. His eyes snap to mine before he does a double take. They’re gray, matching the sweaty shirt he’s wearing. He’s scrawny looking, surely not a coach or trainer. “Yes?” his gravelly voice cuts me. Adjusting my bag over my shoulder I head toward him. “Hi, I’m Tate.” I hold my trembling hand out. He looks it over, his curly eyebrows narrowing. “I’m Thomas. What do you want?” He gets to the point, and doesn’t shake my hand. Lowering my hand, I tuck it behind me and look anywhere but at him. Maybe, I should leave. No, I can’t cower. This is my dream. “Right, to the point. Got it. I’m looking for a coach. I wanna—” “Oh god, not another one. Look, we aren’t open to the public, and even if we were, look around.” He holds his hand out, gesturing toward the gym. Looking around I find a bunch of sweaty men. “So?” I shrug. He draws his eyes together. “So, it’s all men.” He smirks as if I didn’t get what he was referring to. “Yeah, I got that.” My jaw clenches. “So, we don’t train women,” he chuckles, looking me up and down as if I’m clearly in the wrong place. “That’s a little sexist,” my tone sharp. His face loses his humor.

“It’s not sexist, it’s just we’re not the kind of gym you’re looking for,” he continues, before walking away from me and dismissing me. He’s crazy if he thinks I’m giving up that easy. “How do you know what I want, you won’t let me talk,” I snap. He stops, lowers his head back and sighs irritated. “I do actually. I get at least one of you in a week. You and your girlfriends want to exercise and then go for coffee afterwards. This is a gym for professional fighters, this is their life in here,” he explains hatefully. “I assure you I’m not here to exercise.” I can’t help the chuckle that spills from my mouth. “I am here for professional training, to become a professional fighter. I want to learn MMA, and am very much serious,” I inform. Anger bites at the tip of my tongue, pissed that he assumes he knows me. “Look sweetheart, they all say that. They are all serious about whatever it is they are looking for in life. This isn’t it though, you know where the door is,” Thomas dismisses. I roll my eyes at his term of endearment. Maybe if I punch him in the mouth for that one he’ll take me serious. “Don’t call me sweetheart,” I clip bitterly. “He’s definitely a sexist!” a female informs from behind him. Looking around him I find a young woman sitting at a counter I didn’t notice before. She has long brown hair, and her feet kicked up on the counter as she looks a magazine over. There’s shakes and blenders lining the back wall. Nutritionist maybe? “Goddamn it, Cate.” The older man schools, placing his hands on his hips. “I agree with her, it’s bullshit you don’t let women in here.” She shrugs, not even looking at him as she flips a page. “Your theory that men hit harder is as much trash as the inspirational quotes you feed your fighters.” She rolls her eyes. I look the other way, not sure what I walked into. Clearly there is some tension between the two. “Look, I’m sure you look tough in the mirror, but this is no place for a girl,” he groans. “Why don’t you try swimming, or gymnastics?” My mouth nearly hits the floor it drops so fast. My insecurities are yelling at me to turn around, but my pride tells me not to back down so easily. Fiona told me not to leave until I showed them what I could do. What if this is the only place in Chicago that trains? If I don’t do this, I’ll always wonder what if. “I’m- I’m not leaving until you let me prove I have what it takes.” I nod, as if I’m reassuring myself I got this. I know I do, it’s just been so long since I’ve fought another person, what if I get in there and freeze? “Excuse me?” Thomas tilts his head to the side in question. “You heard me. Let me fight and show you I belong here.” An uncontrollable flush of heat ripples up my limbs from a sudden surge of confidence. “And if I let you into my ring and you tap out, what do I get?” Thomas asks. I blink slowly, not sure how to answer that.

“Um…” He holds the pink jock strap up, a gleam in his eye. “You’re my cleaning lady.” This asshole. Pursing my lips, I cross my arms in front of my chest. I have to win this bet, I have to show this sexist asshole that a pissed off woman is more to fear than any man. “Alright, but if I don’t tap out, you have to train me... For free!” I point at him angrily. He laughs as if there’s no way that’s happening and then holds his hand out. “Deal.” Shaking his hand, I accept. “Deal.” “Cate, grab her some gloves.” “You got it, Thomas.” Cate jumps over the counter. Seeing her body for the first time I can tell she works out. She’s not ripped, but is well toned. Dropping my bag, I stretch. Bouncing on the balls of my feet, and rolling my neck to loosen up. Berating thoughts slamming into my head one after another. “Tracey!” Thomas hollers, his eyes smiling at me. A lump forms in my throat from the wicked grin on his face. “You knock Tracey out, or make him tap out, I’ll train you.” Thomas lifts his chin. A big burly man steps up behind Thomas. He’s sweaty and looks to be about one hundred and fifty pounds. He has an overgrown red Mohawk, with the rest of his head shaved. Freckles dusting his crooked nose. “How much does he weigh?” I squeak. My body cringes thinking about receiving a punch from Tracey. “What are you now Tracey? One thirty? One fifty? Ah, you can take him.” Thomas smiles big, throwing his hand at me dismissively. “Sorry, as I said before, we don’t train girls here so you’ll have to fight Tracey. If that’s a problem though, I understand your forfeit.” “No!” I spit. “It’s fine.” I’m going to die. “Here we go, these should fit.” Cate grabs my hands and begins to wrap them with fighting tape. It helps protect the knuckles. I, however, can’t take my eyes off Tracey. He’s massive. “Tate here wants to fight.” “Me?” Tracey points to himself then looks at me as if I’d lost my mind. His dark eyes wide with surprise. Thomas nods his head. “Coach…” Tracey begins to shake his head in rejection. “It’s fine, she’s a little girl,” Thomas insults. “You might take it easy on her, though.” Thomas walks to the ring leaving a wake of malicious chuckles.

“Hey.” Cate’s voice grabs my attention. Looking at her, her green eyes focused on wrapping my other hand. “You got this. Tracey is a pussy, do an arm bar and you’ll take him out easily. He can’t figure out how to get out of them so it’ll be a piece of cake.” Arm bar? I’ve only successfully done that once. Maybe twice now that I’m thinking about it and I was a kid. “Why are you telling me this?” “Because.” She slips my gloves on. “I want to see the look on Thomas’s face when you prove to him women can fight.” A laugh erupts from my mouth before I can stop it. She pats my gloves, and shoves a mouth guard into my mouth. “Go get ‘em.” Climbing into the ring, my back is covered in sweat, and I know my shirt is soaked beneath my pits. I bet I smell lovely too. God, why am I doing this? Thomas steps in between us. “Ready Barbie?” Thomas insults. I scowl. Now I know why I’m doing this. To prove this asshole I’m no diva. I nod, biting my mouth guard. “Tracey?” Thomas glances at my opponent. Tracey gives a sideways glance before nodding. “Go!” Thomas jumps out of the way. I pounce forward, my arms raised up to protect my face. Tracey steps forward, his hands raised as well. Circling each other he suddenly jabs, and I duck. It was pathetic, there was no power behind his strike. Is he weak, or is he deliberately trying not to hit me hard because I’m a girl? His hands raised, he’s leaving his torso uncovered. Taking the opportunity I give a one two punch into his gut. He grunts and instantly covers his stomach with his hands. I twist and elbow strike him in the face. He stumbles, shaking his head as if to clear the pain away. “Come on Tracey! You’re getting your ass kicked by a girl, son!” Thomas’s brows furrow in distress, nervous he’s going to lose the bet. Tracey tries to throw another pathetic punch and I go in for a single leg take down, praying I don’t screw it up. Grabbing his leg with my hands, I squeeze it between my thighs, smash down on it to where his other knee buckles, and turn quickly throwing him down. He goes down with ease and I’m shocked. “For fuck’s sake Tracey!” Thomas becomes irate from the sidelines. “I’m not hitting a girl coach!” he slurs around his mouth guard. “I can see why, you suck,” I insult.

“Who is that fighting him?” A familiar gravelly voice grabs my attention from the fight, chills suddenly running down my spine despite my rising body temperature. Glancing over to the side of the ring a man stands facing Thomas, all I see is his side profile, but it looks more than familiar. His hair is short and unruly, and cheeks holding a five o’clock shadow. “Camden?” Before I can react, Tracey grabs me around the neck and plows me to the floor hard, trying to lock me up tight. I can’t move. Was that Camden? I try to look, and Tracey tightens his hold. Trying to refocus back on the fight, I have to think about my next move carefully. It’s like I forgot everything I know - which is limited. If I move my arm out too much I’m going to get submitted. He’ll apply so much pressure on it I’ll have no choice but to tap out. Images of Camden flash in my mind, making it hard to think. Memories of the light stubble growing on his defined cheek bones, and the way his vivid blue eyes looked at me with such disappointment before I left four years ago flash in my eyes. Focus. Closing my eyes, I push all thoughts of Camden from my head. Trying to catch my breath, I slip my hand under Tracey’s body, lay my leg straight before positioning it between his and hug him. I have no idea what this move is called, but I see them do it all the time on TV. “Fuck, just tap out,” Tracey pants in my ear. “Fuck you,” I grit through my bite guard. “You tap out.” He tries to hook me in the face with his fist, and I slip out from underneath him before he can make contact. Getting back on his feet I slip in behind him and go for a rear naked choke. Locking my legs around his back, I wrap one arm around his neck, while resting the other on top of his head. Hoping he’ll tap out, he grabs at my glove on his head and tears my arm free instead. “Shit!” I wipe the sweat off my forehead, I don’t know what else to do to take this asshole out. I’m out of moves. “You done yet Barbie?” Tracey taunts. Adrenaline slams into my chest so hard my vision blurs. I can do this. Pulling my fist back hard, I punch him in the face with all I have and he falls into the ring. That wasn’t a pre calculated move. That was just pure anger rolled into my fist. “Holy shit!” Thomas’s surprised voice isn’t lost on me. “Whoa!” That voice, it draws my attention back to the side of the ring. He’s facing me fully now. Seeing his face for the first time in four years, butterflies swarm in my stomach. It’s definitely Camden. His blue irises lock on mine and I hold my breath. My heart breaks all over again just staring at him. His eyes widen with recognition, and his mouth parts.

Not keeping my mind in the game, I’m suddenly taken down on all fours. Tracey hovers above me, wrapping his arm around my neck, and tucking his head right under my arm. Before I can figure out what he’s doing, he rolls over and chokes me out. Refusing to tap out, my ears ring. My breathing becoming labored. “Tap out!” A voice I can’t make out echoes in the background. I refuse. I won’t. My vision begins to blur, just as Tracey’s arm is pulled from my neck. I choke and wheeze pulling every morsel of air I can back into my lungs. Falling to my hands and knees, I try to regain my composure. My hair is a mess sticking to my forehead, and sweat trickles down my face to where I can taste it. “What the hell was that?” Tracey scolds standing above me. Glancing to where Camden was standing I find him missing. My chest weighs heavy, tears threatening to fill my eyes. I wasn’t prepared to see him. “I didn’t tap out,” I croak, my voice nearly gone. Closing my eyes, I fight from crying. If I do, Thomas will think it’s from the fight, and not from a broken heart. “What?” Thomas crouches down. Peering up under my lashes I say louder. “I didn’t tap out!” My arms feel like Jello to the point I fall to the mat. Its coolness welcoming me with open arms. “You have to train me now.” Cate laughs loud, as she raises her arms up in the air in victory. “You made the deal, you lost buddy!” Cate points at him. “Jesus Christ.” Thomas stands straight, his hands on his hips as he glares down at me. “I didn’t tap out,” I whisper proudly. *** Pulling myself up off the floor, my body aches from the amount of effort it takes. My chest constricts as I frantically look around the gym for Camden. Not seeing him anywhere, I quickly slip out of the ring, pull my gloves off, and spit the guard onto the floor. I gotta get out of here. I can’t see him. I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready. Turning to grab my bag I run into a wall of pure muscle, the familiar smell hitting home. Camden. He smells just like he used to when he was eighteen. Clean and spicy. My chest trembles as I slowly look up from under my lashes. “Cam-Camden?” I stammer as a shiver runs up my back. The unsettling warmth on my face causes me to sweat, as my heart pounds against my chest with a wave of nerves. His brows are pulled together with hate, and his blue eyes are cold and unfriendly. He folds his

thick arms across his chest, making his dark shirt strain against his biceps. I look away, digging my nails into the palm of my hand. The TV has nothing on what the real Camden Steel looks like. He’s his own person. I can’t help but stare back at him. Sharp around the edges, but beautiful. He has small scars that show his pain, and power dusting around his thick eyebrows and cheek bones. “Why are you here?” His words are bitter, cutting into me. Looking at the ground I avert my eyes from his. His intense stare too much. “I um—” I practiced over and over in my head what I would say to Camden if I ever ran into him again. Had it down pat. I would explain why I left him behind, he’d get angry, I’d get angry, and then I’d say something really smart before storming off. He would then chase me, whip me around and kiss me so hard that everything that ever happened would be forgotten. Only… I can’t seem to think of a single thing to say now. So, I run. I push past him, and run to my car. Out of the building and nearing my car I feel my eyes prick with the urge to cry. “Why are you here, Tate?” My name used to come out of his mouth in a way that made my toes curl, now… it’s as if I’m a disease. “TATE!” I stop. Using my free hand I wipe the one tear that managed to escape. Maybe this is the part he says he’s missed me, and pulls me into an embrace and kisses me. Turning I look into the distance. “I’m here because I want my family back and I want to be a professional fighter. I- I didn’t know this was your gym though.” Unpleased with my answer, he scoffs, widening his stance. His face is more defined, and covered in a five o’clock shadow. He’s not a boy anymore, he’s a man. He licks his bottom lip before raking it in with his teeth. I used to kiss those lips. Moaned unintelligible things against them while he loved me. I didn’t realize how much I missed him, not until now. “Do yourself a favor, and just go back to wherever it was you came from.” Anger flushes through my system and my mouth falls open. This is not going the way my dreams had planned out. “Seriously, after all these years that is the first thing you wanted to say to me?” He rubs at his chin before hitting me with those cold blue eyes. “Trust me Tate, the first thing I was going to say wasn’t near as nice as that.” He turns, his back just as toned and chiseled as his front. “Say it, say what you were going to say,” I push. Shaking his head, he thumbs the sweat pants on his narrow hips. “It doesn’t matter… Because you don’t matter, not anymore.” I gasp at his harsh tone. Ouch. Tears unleash so fast I can’t stop them. Not this time.

“Fucking prick,” I grumble under my breath as I head toward my car. “What was that?” he asks arrogantly, but I don’t look behind me. If I do, I might punch him in the mouth. “I said, FUCKING PRICK!” I tug my door open, throw my bag in and jump in. Silently praising myself for finding words that were buried deep inside of me. Slamming my door shut, I glare at him as I start the car. I quickly peel out of the parking lot without looking back. My nostrils flare, and knuckles turning white as I strangle the steering wheel. Who the hell was that? That wasn’t the Camden I remember. Not at all. I’m going to kill Fiona when I see her.

Camden Standing in a cloud of dust I watch as Tate drives away. Again. My heart is beating against my chest hard, my stomach twisted in knots. I thought my longing for Tate grew into hate these past years. That was until I just saw her. I miss her and hate her. I wanted to grab her and pull her into me, but I also wanted to pull her by the fucking hair out of my gym. I never thought I’d see her again, but I envisioned it. It pretty much went how I planned. Pissing her off. I wanted her to hurt as much as I did when she up and left in the middle of the night four fucking years ago. She promised to call me everyday, that we’d see each other every weekend. None of that happened. She’s a fucking liar. The most beautiful ones are though. They’re like flowers. Gorgeous on the outside, but once you get close, you find out they’re just as poisonous. “Who was that?” I turn finding Chase standing there with an amused grin on his face. His dark long hair wet as if he’d just showered. How long had he been standing there? “Nobody,” I respond flatly. “Oh that was somebody, and when I say that I mean that was some body. Fuck she’s sexy!“ “Stop while you’re ahead.” I hold my hand up, glowering at him. Inside my chest my heart beats wildly with a jealous urge. I could beat on my chest and roar right now. Which is fucking stupid, because Tate is not mine. She made that very clear. “She yours?” He walks backwards stepping into the gym. Lowering my head, I close my eyes trying to calm my racing heart. Chase is a different kind of man, he’s one that is unstable, and laced with a violent nature. I’m no saint, but the difference is I’m

aware of my transgressions, he thinks he’s completely normal. He’s been training for a couple years now. No trainer will put him in a ring after seeing his true colors in practice. He’s a bloodbath waiting to happen. “No, just … stay away from her,” I whisper. Looking out of the corner of my eye I find him staring at me oddly. “We still on for Big Pete’s tonight?” He changes the subject. I give a silent nod. The guy has his issues, but he’s relentless when it comes to wanting to hang out. “Camden! You set up that fight that the MFC was offering?“ Thomas asks with a hopeful grin on his face. “No.” Thomas and Kaley are always planning shit behind my back. When will they get it in their heads I’m not going back into the ring? “Son, seriously, how long are we going to do this for? You gotta get back in the ring, it’s your calling. Just like coaching is mine.” Thomas runs his hands through his hair aggravated. “What did that girl want?” I hitch my thumb over my shoulder. He rolls his eyes. “Wants me to train her, I told her no but before I knew it I was in a bet with her that she’d tap out.” He shakes his head. “She didn’t tap out surprisingly, she’s a tough lil’ Gal.” He shakes his head again, looking at the front door as if she is still here. I can’t have Tate in my gym, I can’t have her here. “You are not training her.” I raise my brows ready to go head to head with him on this. “Hey, a bet’s a bet man,” Cate cuts in, her hands on her hips. “I don’t give a shit about a bet. You’re my trainer Thomas, we have a contract and you training anyone else is breaking that.” “Well, then I suggest you figure something else out because you made a fucking bet!” Cate’s face turns bright red, as she steps up to me. Cate is the nutritionist around here, and she’s great at what she does but she is a little headstrong sometimes. Especially when it comes to women doing what men can do. “Why do you even care?” I shrug. “Because, you guys have it your tiny little heads, and I’m not talking about the one on your shoulders, that you are so much more mighty than women. That girl,” she points at the front door, “she’s the next big thing, mark my words,” Cate states. I only saw part of the fight, but it doesn’t surprise me that Tate is good at fighting. It was what she always wanted to do. “I’ll figure something out, keep your skirt on.” Thomas holds both his hands up in surrender. “See, it’s that kind of shit right there Thomas.” Cate points at Thomas. “I’m going to go get taped up, meet me in the ring in ten. I need to hit something,” I inform Thomas. I gotta get this frustration out, and now. “Motivated, I like it!” Thomas grins.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Chapter Four

9 Years Old Camden Biting on my inner cheek I look around the backyard. There’s red and blue balloons, a cake with two fighters on it, and a few presents. “Damn it!” My mother ’s voice echoes with a hint of frustration. I bet I left my bowl of cereal on the counter again, and she knocked it over. Furrowing my brows I head toward the back door leading into our kitchen. “What’s wrong Mom?” She digs in her purse with pursed lips. “I could have sworn I bought candles, but I can’t find them. Have you seen them?” She looks at me briefly before lifting various items off the counter to look under them. “No.” I start helping her look. “I’ll go buy some more babe,” Dad states, grabbing the keys off the microwave. Mom runs her hands through her hair and exhales. “Just candles, Andrew.” She points her finger at him. “Hurry, guests will begin to show up soon.” “Candles. Got it.” He smiles, ruffling the hair on my head. “Be back soon champ.” Mom nibbles on her bottom lip just as the doorbell rings. “Go see who that is, will ya?” Mom asks, wrinkles forming on her forehead. Nodding, I dart to the front door. I wonder if it’s Bret. He’s the coolest kid in school, and he promised he show up. Opening the front door, I find Tatum and her family. “Hey Camden, happy birthday!” Journey’s face beams with excitement. She’s wearing a long flowery dress with a ridiculous yellow bow in her hair. Why do girls wear that crap? “Hey.” I give a weak attempt at a wave. Sliding my gaze from Journey, I catch Tate rolling her eyes at me. She’s so different from any girl I’ve ever met. She’s wearing a black shirt with a faded boxing glove on it, followed by red frayed shorts. Tatum’s mother, Marlow, clears her throat. Realizing I’ve been staring at Tatum longer than I intended I hold the front door open. “Come in.” “Here.” Tatum shoves a small wrapped box into my chest hard. “Umph!” A cough erupts from my chest from the hard thrust. I glare at her as she passes. Her mother gives her a tap upside the head.

“Act like a lady,” Marlow hisses. Fifteen minutes later everyone has arrived, and Mom is pacing the kitchen to the point I’m sure she’s worn a path into the floor. Dad hasn’t come back and isn’t answering his phone. Most people would be scared to death that something bad had happened to their father, but I? I know he’s fallen off the wagon again. He drinks. A lot. Mom has had a close eye on him, trying to get him to quit the last week. Now that he is out of her sight… he’s probably sitting in front of a liquor store drinking his way to the bottom of a bottle. “You like to fight?” Bret adjusts his ball cap as he observes my cake. “Yeah, Mom hates it though.” My mom says that is why we moved here, because I got into too many fights at school. I know that’s a lie though. We left because my dad did something with someone at work. Something that had my mom in a fury. They never would tell me what though. “I like to fight too, got kicked out twice last year. Though one was for a fight, the other was because of this.” He lifts his shirt, showing a sheathed knife. My eyes widen. “Whoa, that’s cool.” I’ve never held a knife before, but just looking at Bret’s secure in a leather holster… it makes me want one. “Yeah, I don’t need it though. I can hit pretty hard with my hands.” His tone is confident, and I can’t help but want to challenge him. “Yeah, I’m pretty strong too,” my tone antagonizing. “Oh yeah? How about we arm wrestle then?” Bret pulls the sleeve of his shirt up and hunches down on one knee, resting an elbow on the table. I smile, if I beat him… I’ll be the coolest kid in school. “You’re on!” I take a knee, and palm his large hand. “If I win, I get your slice of the cake.” He grins confidently. “If I win, I get yours,” I counter, squeezing his hand. He starts without counting, catching me off guard. Gritting my teeth, scrunching my nose, I push with all my might. Breathing through my nose I start to make progress, pushing his arm to the other side. His brown eyes flick to mine with worry, just as I take his hand to the table. I jump up, arms raised in the air in victory. “Yeah. Yeah. My arm is weak. I had baseball practice today,” he defends. “Whatever. I won and you know it.” I start to get angry. How dare he act like he just let me win. I won and he knows it. I look around me to see if anyone saw me take him down. But everyone is looking anywhere but at me. He rolls his eyes and turns around. Dang it! “Hey Camden!” Felicia calls my name catching my attention. Turning toward her, she waves with

a stupid smile. She’s wearing a tight purple dress, with a ton of makeup on. Some other girls my mom made me invite standing right behind her. Curving my mouth I give a nod. My eyes catch Tatum sitting on the grass. Her legs crossed as she pulls grass from the ground as if she’s bored. Felicia snaps her gaze to her, and grimaces. Marching over to Tatum she kicks her in the shoe. “Why are you here? Didn’t you hear? Losers aren’t invited,” Felicia insults. Quickly I run to them. Tatum stands, her fists balled. “You better take that back before I blacken your eye so bad you won’t need that stupid eyeshadow!” Tatum threatens. I step in between them. “Hey Tatum, want to arm wrestle me for your cake?” Her face goes stoic. “What?” She blinks wildly. “You heard me,” I reaffirm. “Arm wrestle me. That is unless you’re afraid you’ll lose.” Her mouth pops open before her lips form into a thin line. “Fine.” Getting situated she palms my hand and a zing surfs through my fingers, up my arm, and right down to my gut. Looking at her, her eyes widen like she felt it too. There is something so different about this girl. “Ready?” I act as if I didn’t notice anything. Her brows pull together in determination. I start out slow, not wanting to break her heart at how strong I really am. Maybe I’ll let her win, that’ll make her day. Her strength surprises me so I push harder, the idea of maybe letting her win gone. Just as my hand is an inch away from the table, I use both hands and push hers to the table. I can’t let a girl beat me! “HEY! THAT’S CHEATIN!” Tate’s nose scrunches with anger, as she stands up. “You owe me your cake sweetheart.” I shrug with a smug smile. Her nose wrinkles, her lips pursed like a sucker fish. Looking down she grabs a random plate, and plows it into my face. Cake fills every crook and cranny of my face. My mouth drops, the taste of icing filling my mouth. “Tatum Davis!” Her mother puts her hand on her hip, as she eyes Tate with a look of embarrassment. “I’m so sorry!” Her dad apologizes for her. I wipe the cake from eyes, and find a smiling Tate. She could care less that she’s in trouble. I can’t help the curve of my lips, the ache behind them as I try and fight the smile creeping through my anger. Quickly they usher her out of the backyard, whispering and schooling her the whole time. “She’s such a freak. Do you want a napkin?” Felicia asks, crossing her arms. “I like her,” I respond, flicking icing off my fingers. I can literally hear the disapproval smoldering off Felicia. There’s no need to look.

There’s something about Tatum Davis, and I can’t put my finger on what it is. Most girls are pathetic wearing stupid pink stuff, and always wanting to talk about themselves and shopping. But Tatum… she’s different. I want to get to know her. Two hours later my father shows up. Drunk. I kick a rock as I sit on the front porch listening to them scream at each other. Glass breaks and I can’t stand to hear it anymore. Sprinting between the houses I spot Tatum sitting on her bed. The window to her room open. Our houses are so close together I often see her in her room. She’s always on her bed, reading something. She caught me looking once and I ducked as quickly as I could. I know she saw me though. Getting a closer look inside she’s reading some kind of boxing magazine. “What ya reading?” I intrude, resting my arms on the ledge of her window. Her head darts up, her blonde hair falling in her face. “Here to spy on me again?” her words sharp. A scream sounds from behind me with a loud bang. I don’t look behind me, but Tatum’s face goes blank. “Can I come in?” I ask, knowing it’s a long shot. I just can’t go back home, and it’s dark out. Her eyes look around the room wildly, her body tense. “Please.” I can’t believe I just said that. Her eyes slowly slide to mine, and she nods. “Yeah. But you have to be quiet, my dad will get mad if he knows you’re in here.” “Got it.” I climb into her bedroom window, and look around. It’s not what I thought a girl’s room would look like. There’s posters of boxers and fighters all over the walls. Dirty clothes on the floor, and a pair of sneakers thrown in the corner. Sitting on the floor, I gaze among the stack of magazines she’s collected. “You’re kind of—” “Different? I know.” She tucks her nose back into her magazine. “Yeah, but it’s a good different.” Her eyes pop above what she’s reading. “Yeah?” “Yeah. You don’t fall into that crowd of girls that pretend to be something they’re not. I like that. Plus, we have a lot in common.” Silence fills the air as I look over an article. “Can you read any of this?” I ask, my mind trying to silently pronounce the words. She slips off the bed and sits next to me, crossing her legs Indian style. “I can read some of it. Like here,” she points to the page showing some limited edition cup, I don’t know I don’t look at it long. I watch Tate, as her eyes light up at the magazine. “It’s a cup they

use for their protein powder, which helps them get strong for fights,” she explains. Her eyes meet mine, and she taps the page. “See?” She knows I haven’t even looked at the page. “You want to be friends?” My heart beats a little faster when I realize that my own voice asked the question. My face is on fire as I watch for her reaction. I’ve never asked to be a girl’s friend before. She shrugs, biting her cheek. “I guess.” Lifting the magazine up, I smile behind it.

Chapter Five

Tatum Slamming the car door behind me I march into Chloe’s house. I feel nauseous, my only remedy is getting back in the car and race back to the gym and slam my fist in Camden’s face. I can’t believe he talked to me like that. Has he always been such an asshole and I was just too blind to see it? Or does he really hate me? Fucking Chloe and Fiona knew whose gym I was going to. They knew I would run into Camden. They set me up. WHY? Inside it smells like fingernail polish, and baked bread. “Ma! I told you I want the acrylic!” Chloe states from Fiona’s manicure table. “Oh hush, you don’t know what you want.” Fiona tosses her hand at Chloe, with an emery board in her fingers. “Did you know?” I drop my gym bag to the floor, my nostrils flaring. Both of them focus on me, their faces scrunched in confusion. “Did you know Camden would be there?” I clarify sharply. Chloe’s mouth purses into the shape of an O, and Fiona begins to work on Chloe’s hands as if I didn’t ask anything important. “Fiona!” She huffs, dropping her emery board. “That is the only training place I knew of sugar. Did I know that Camden would be there? I mean, I wasn’t sure, but—” “So you did know,” I interrupt. “Look babe. You wanted a trainer, and I knew where one was. How bad do you want your dreams to come true?” Her brows raise as her eyes slowly trail from Chloe’s fingers to my eyes. “What does that mean?” I sigh. “It’s simple. How bad do you want to become a professional fighter?” “Well—” “Then I suggest you get over that boy and focus on you.” She turns, grabbing a purple nail polish. Groaning I fall into the couch, knowing she’s right. “Did you run into him?” Chloe questions. My eyes closed, I nod. The look of hatred on Camden’s face plaguing my mind. “What did he say? How did he look? Was he mad?” Chloe interrogates. Dragging my palm along my face I try to focus my eyes on Chloe. “He told me not to come back,” I answer flatly. Hearing it a second time hurts just as much as the

first. I’m not surprised he said it though. I deserve it after the way I left him. “Ouch,” she mutters. “Yeah. Good times,” the sarcasm in my voice thick. “Go back. Sock it to him,” Fiona adds, applying polish to Chloe’s nail. “It’s not that easy,” I tell her. “It is. Grow a spine, sugar,” Fiona declares. “Ma!” Chloe faces her mother. “What? Tate is tough everywhere except when it comes to that boy.” I begin picking at my nail polish, knowing she’s right but I don’t want to acknowledge it. “Yeah, but I broke his heart,” I remind her. The tension between us is all my fault. “He is a grown ass man, he’s going to walk all over you if you let him. Put your big girl panties on and stomp his ass.” Sitting up I tangle my fingers in my hair. “I need a drink.” I can’t deal with all of this. It pisses me off how much of an asshole he was, but I still have deep feelings for him. I hate that I hurt him, but when he talks to me like that I want to dig my claws into his face. “You want to go to Big Pete’s?” “What’s that?” “They serve the biggest pizza, and have all the beer you can think of.” “Is it deep dish?” I can’t help but ask. I’ve missed the deep dish pizza from here. “No, but it’s still really good.” Chloe nods, blowing on her nails. I better indulge in pizza and beer while I can. If Thomas is serious about coaching me, my diet is going to get strict. “Yeah. Let’s do it I suppose.” “Sweet. You go change, and as soon as Ma is done, we’ll go.” I look down at my work out clothes. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? I thought we were just going for beer and pizza?” She rolls her eyes. “If you plan on getting laid, you need to get out of the sports bra, girlfriend.” Fiona laughs. “I’ll take pizza over a guy any day,” I jab, walking past them. “That’s my girl!” Fiona praises. Pulling up to Big Pete’s the parking lot is littered with cars. Seems to be the new hot spot around here. It’s crazy how much this town has changed over the last few years. The building is made up of red brick, with a small wooden patio to the right. It looks like it used to be a garage with the two overhead doors leading into the building.

Stepping out of the car I toss my hair over my shoulder. I caved and put on tight blue jeans with a glam pocket brown shirt. It’s longer in the back, and the pocket in the front has some gold shiny stuff on it. It’s not mine, it’s Chloe’s. I’m still wearing my sports bra though. Stepping inside there’s a mechanical bull in the center of the chaos. There’s orange and pink lights running along the top of the ceiling. A long bar along the right with tons of people crowded along it. “Come on, let’s grab a booth.” Chloe grabs my hand and drags me along. Shimmying in the booth I grab a menu. “Welcome to Big Pete’s. We like ‘em big and hot.” I eye her, before looking at Chloe to see if she found that just as dirty as I did. “We’ll take two big pepperoni with two light beers,” Chloe orders for us, and apparently I’m the only pervert between us. “You got it!” She smiles before turning on her heel she sashays away. Chloe’s eyes widen. “Six o’clock.” Trying not to be too noticeable, I casually look over my shoulder to find a tough looking blond guy. His short hair is gelled to perfection, and he’s working a gauge earring in one ear. “He’s hot!” Chloe whisper yells. “I mean, he’s okay,” I shrug. Of course he’s hot, I just don’t have the girl balls to holler it across a room like her. The guy laughs at one of his buddies and his eyes catch mine. Oh shit. Quickly I turn away. “What are you doing? Go say hi.” Chloe kicks my leg. “Ouch!” I rub at my shin, my face cooling from all the blood draining my face. The guy and his friend walk by our table slowly. He’s clearly looking for an opening to see if I’m interested, but I keep my head down. Grabbing a menu I scour it, focusing on the appetizer section so hard you’d think I was going to be quizzed on their choices. Is he gone? Tell me he’s gone. I give a sideways glance to see if he’s lost interest. He shrugs and continues to the back of the building, and I can’t help but sag with relief and drop the menu on the table. People have been screaming and hollering back there since Chloe and I arrived. Must be some kind of party. They have red curtains closing it off, so you can’t see what all the excitement is about though. “That was pathetic,” Chloe laughs at me. “Sounds like someone is having a good time,” I state ignoring her, jutting my head toward the back. “Yeah, not us because you have a stick up your ass.” Chloe shakes her head, lips pursed. I open my

mouth to object and the little red head waitress shows up and places beers and pizza down. “Whoa, that is a—” I stumble on my words. “Big ass pizza, right?” Chloe giggles. I try to pick it up, but it just flops over my hand. “It’s bigger than my head.” I laugh. Half a slice of pizza, and four beers later I’m feeling relaxed and happy. The pizza was good, but it was no deep dish. “Remember that time you told Felicia to stick a hair curler up her ass?!” Chloe laughs so hard I can barely understand her. Falling back I clutch my chest with a fit of giggles. “I remember that. Her face—” I try to portray her face. “I’ll never forget it. Whatever happened to her, did she run off and marry her prince charming like she always wanted?” I ask. “Nah, she got knocked up by some truck driver. When she told her parents she was keeping the baby they disowned her. Last I heard she was in some trailer park in the south side,” Chloe tells me as she bites into a pepperoni that fell off her pizza. I can’t help the furrow in my brows and the frown on my face. I feel sorry for Felicia. Her parents were always the uptight ones on the block, and I can only imagine the way they reacted. The blond haired guy comes from the back of the room. His eyes catch mine before I can pretend to look away. I freeze. Why do I get so weird around guys? Chloe notices my unease and wipes tears from the corners of her eyes and looks over her shoulder. “Please tell me you’re going to jump on that, cause if not give me the green light, girl.” My chest squeezes with the thought. I need to get laid. It’s been forever, and I don’t mean that in ‘oh it was a few months ago’, it’s been years. Just as I open my mouth to say something he smiles at me and I choke on my words. “Hey.” His voice is rugged, but smooth. He smiles and I notice a scar across his bottom lip. His jaw is square, and feathered in scruff. His eyes grab mine, sending a sudden chill down my spine. As cute as he is, there’s something very dark about him, I just can’t quite place it. “Hey yourself.” Chloe plays it off coolly, obviously not getting the same ominous vibe I am. He looks at me, and the little vixen in me runs and hides. Chloe kicks me in the shin again. My brain is mush and put on the spot I’m not sure what to do. I freak. “It’s big and hot.” I word vomit under pressure. Chloe’s head turns like the exorcist, her eyes wide. Clenching my eyes shut I cringe at what I just said. I don’t think there’s enough beer in this world to overcome my awkwardness around guys. I’m just not programmed with that sassy charm women have to persuade men. I have a repellant that has them running for the hills. “I didn’t just say that.” My head falls forward, hair falling in my face.

He laughs hard. “You did.” “Don’t mind her, she’s…” “I’m nothing,” I snap, grabbing my beer for a distraction. It’s warm but I don’t care. “Name is Chase.” He winks at me, and I look away nervously. “I’m Chloe, this is Tate.” Chloe saves the day. “Tate…” he whispers my name, as if he wants to taste it. “You look familiar.” Briefly I glance at his face. I frown, not recognizing him. His brown eyes squint as he focuses on my face. “I’m not from around here…” I stir, not sure where he’s seen me. He nods and looks away. “You want to dance, Tate?” My face falls in panic. I’m a terrible dancer. “Of course she does!” Chloe answers eagerly for me. “No I’m—” Chase doesn’t give me a chance to answer before pulling me out of the booth and onto the dance floor. The song ‘Addicted’ by Saving Abel plays as we enter a wave of couples dancing. My forehead sweats as I think about how I’m going to trip and face plant in front of everyone. The beat of the song runs through my veins and I begin to relax some. I tap my thigh with my fingers as I look around the dance floor. Chase grips my hips hard, presses his groin into the back of me, and starts swaying. I blink slowly, a little surprised by the close proximity. But by the way his fingers are digging into my skin I can tell I’m not going anywhere. My mouth dry, and heart beating wildly I sway with him. Trying to take Chloe’s advice and let go. Glancing across the bar Chloe has two thumbs up and a big cheesy grin on her face. I’m going to kill her. Slowly my eyes drift to the left and I spot Camden and some curvy brunette strutting from the back room where all the commotion was coming from. My chest seizes when his eyes catch mine. I look away, trying to keep up with Chase’s rhythm so I don’t lose my balance. Biting my cheek I glance back up, curious if he’s watching me. I’m not going to lie, I kind of hope he is watching me. I want him to get jealous. But he’s not just watching me…he’s walking toward me. His jaw clenched, and eyes fierce as he marches forward. I stop dancing, and swallow hard. Camden grabs my hips, and presses his groin into my front with such force the wind is nearly knocked from me. His arm candy stands back with her arms crossed and watching awkwardly. Chase grinds on my back side as Camden covers my front. Holy shit. I’m being sandwiched.

My heart sinks, and I panic internally. I try to sway my hips with theirs but I’m off beat. I raise my hands to wrap around Camden’s neck, but think better of it and lower them at my side. Looking up Camden looks at me with angry blue eyes, before lowering his head next to mine. “Trying to tease me won’t work,” he whispers into my ear. “You’ll just get hurt in the end, and I’ll be the asshole.” I suck in a sharp angry breath, and press my hands against his chest and shove him back a step. He looks down at me, his eyes pinning me where I stand. There’s so much hate and tension building between us you could touch it. I ball my hands, and stare back. The song fading into the background. “Want to go get a drink?” Chase asks from behind me, completely oblivious to the stare down between Camden and I. “That sounds great,” I reply, never taking my eyes off Camden. Stepping past Camden, I stop and look up at him. “Maybe you should reflect on how you’re treating me before bitching about being labeled the asshole.” Back at the table, Chase sits next to me and I glare at a smiling Chloe. Commotion catches my attention and I find Camden and the model-like woman standing at the end of our booth. “Camden, this is Chloe and Tate,” Chase introduces. “I know who they are,” Camden snaps as he sits down uninvited next to Chloe. His smiling bimbo sits on his lap and I grit my teeth wishing they’d leave. He’s purposely flaunting her in front of me and I’m not sure how much more I can take before I snap. “The gym!” Chase slaps the table. I jump, not sure what he’s going on about. “You’re the girl who was at the gym today. I knew I saw you from somewhere.” Giving a tight lipped smile, I nod. Peering up from under my lashes I catch Camden staring at me with hooded eyes. I didn’t get much of a chance to look at his face earlier. But now I can’t help but ogle him. His blond hair falls into his eyes, and his nose has a scar across it giving it a crooked look. He wears it well though. His eyebrow is missing a few hairs dead in the center, giving him that tough guy persona. He has grown so much since I’ve seen him last. “So how do you guys know each other?” Chase interrupts our staring contest. “I grew up with them.” Camden shifts the brunette on his lap. Her white top about to bust at the seams from her large breasts. “But that’s history.” “Give it a rest, Camden,” Chloe snaps. Taking another swig of my beer, Camden is still staring at me. As if he’s expecting something. Maybe he wants me to say I’m sorry.

“Look, Camden—” “Save it.” His voice is laced with so much hate it burns through my chest. I’ve seen him angry at a lot of people growing up, but he’s never talked to me like this before. “Excuse me?” His eyes shoot to mine. “The shit about to leave your mouth is about as real as a pair of double D’s.” Chase coughs, casually looking the other way as Camden insults me in front of everyone. “Hey, you can’t even, like, tell tits are fake if you get the right doctor.” The bimbo chimes from the sidelines. She pulls the neck of her shirt down and an overly tanned, large, breast pops out. Dark nipple and all just sitting on the table. I look around to see if I’m being punked. “See, no scars.” She smiles at everyone, as if she just showed us baby pictures and not her bare breast in the middle of a crowded bar. “Feel them.” She grabs Camden’s hand and plows his palm over the top of her nipple. His hand is large and covers a lot of the exposed skin. My fingers dig into the table. My body defies my jealously and my nipples perk at the thought of Camden’s scarred hand fondling my own chest. “Look at that Tate, no scars.” Camden slides his hooded gaze from his hand to me. Fire licks up my limbs, and my cheeks feel like they’re ready to combust. “Hahaha! Fuck you,” I snarl before pushing away from the table, done with Camden’s games. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to strangle him so much before. “You can feel if you want,” Bimbo offers. Ignoring her, I grab my purse and head toward the car. Reaching outside, my chest constricts with the incredible urge to burn this fucking place to the ground in a fit of rage. Why in the hell did I come back here? Sure, I was miserable in LA, but at least I wasn’t feeling like this. Camden doesn’t want an apology, he wants to hurt me. Sprinkles of cold rain pelt my skin, cooling my flustered state. “Tate!” that low growl with an undertone of silk calls after me and I cringe. Ignoring him, my feet crunch into the gravel from the parking lot. Fingers wrap around my bicep and I’m turned around before I realize what is happening. “Why did you come back?” Camden is face to face with me, his chest heaving. I tear from his grip, staring at him with a vengeance. My lips part to answer him, and the skies open up allowing a harsh rain to fall. “Tell me! Why you are here, damn it. You at least owe me that much!” “I came back to mend things with my family and go pro, I told you that.” “Why do you want to go pro? Why here?” My eyes sting, my heart beating so fast I can barely catch my breath.

“I came back because I was miserable, and I wanted… I wanted to come home.” The words come out as if I was a homesick child wanting their parents. “I wasn’t doing what I wanted, I was doing what I thought was the right thing to do.” I continue, hoping to come off a little more mature. Rain sticks to his lashes, his shirt outlining his chest perfectly. A commotion catches my attention behind him. His date is stumbling in her ridiculous heels, as she tries to cover her head with her tiny purse. Makeup running down her face like melted crayons. “She’s nothing like me.” The words fall from my mouth before I can stop them. He glances at me, his thumb rubbing his chin. “Exactly,” his reply comes quick, and hard. It’s a knife to the chest. Fuck I hate him! I blink rapidly, not sure if it’s tears or rain that are falling down my face. My head replaying moments of him and I as a kid, ones my heart won’t let go and make things like this much harder to get through. “You really are an asshole, you know that?” He scoffs at me, looking away. Turning, I jerk the car door open, just as Chloe reaches the driver side. Getting in, she stalls, her mouth opening and closing as she searches for the right thing to say. “Tate, he’s not doing anything to keep you his, so why are you hurting yourself trying to make him happy?” She’s right. I’ve been nothing but nice when he’s done nothing but been a jerk since I got back in town. He’s had his time to be angry about past events, but now it’s getting personal. “Let’s just get out of here.” I cross my arms, anger and hurt fueling my body like poison.

Camden The taillights fade into the night’s rain. I’m feeling so many emotions I feel dizzy. It’s not from drinking though, I haven’t had a drop. Running my fingers through my wet hair I look at the ground wondering if the hate and longing for Tate will eventually sort itself out. “Baby?” a voice coos from behind me, her hand resting on my shoulder. I don’t even know her name. Cathy, Cindy? Fuck I can’t remember. Chase is standing by the door to the pub, a beer in his hand as he stares at me with a smirk. Is he toying with me? Marching toward him, my hand curls into a fist. My jaw locking from rage. “I told you,” I point at him, “stay away from her!” “What do you care?” His face smug. “Aren’t you more of a boobs than brains kind of guy? That girl there is hot, and way out of your league.”

Before I can think about what I’m doing. My fist collides with his face. My knuckles splitting from the contact, the pain a fucking rush. All this pent up anger and conflict releasing on Chase. His beer falls to the ground breaking. His hands fisting my shirt and shoving me off him. Wrapping my arm around his neck I put him into a chokehold, as my vision turns red. “Any woman in this town, you can have. But that one, I specifically said to stay away from!” My face burns from the adrenaline torpedoing through me, the urge to split this fucker ’s head open is overwhelming. “Fucking get off!” Chase struggles and I shove him against the brick building, not nearly done with him. “You’re going to fucking regret that.” He roughly pushes the hair out of his face and I get a step up to him. “You better get out of my face,” he threatens. “Or what?” I taunt, hoping he does something to awaken the beast inside of me. “Guys!” Cindy states from the side, catching my attention. Fuck, maybe her name doesn’t even start with a C. I shake my head, and step away from Chase. “Who is that bitch?” Chase asks, wiping the rain from his face. “She’s nobody. Just stay away from her.” My jaw suddenly aches, and I realize I’m gritting my teeth to near cracking. His eyes widen, and an evil smile crosses his pretty boy face. “She’s that girl you were talking about awhile back isn’t she?” He nods knowingly and my chests constricts. I got drunk a few years back, and a girl that was at an after party looked just like Tate. Needless to say, she became the topic of conversation in my inebriated state. I was hoping I’d forget about Tate and I haven’t spoken about her since. When I stopped talking about her, I stopped thinking about her. “Just do what I fucking said, and stay away from her.” “Why?” he asks flatly. “Because you’re no good for her.” I don’t beat around the bush. Nobody is good enough for Tate. I sure as hell ain’t but I’m not about to watch her with someone else either. “Oh, is that right? And you think you are giving what you’ve done?” I step forward, ready for round two with him. “Go, while you’re still able to!” I threaten, my hand pointing to the parking lot. I don’t know what he thinks he knows about me, but I’m done with his shit. He holds his hands up, stopping me. “Just saying, don’t be so quick to judge. I’m going back inside to get a beer. Cici, you want one?” Chase asks. I glance at her, remembering her telling me her name now. Wow, I really am an asshole. She looks at me with makeup smearing down her face from the rain. She shoves past me and takes Chase’s hand. He smirks at me arrogantly, but I just throw my hands

up at them. I couldn’t care less. I don’t want to be around anyone, especially a female right now. Turning I kick at the pavement, ball my fists and yell into the night.

Chapter Six

12 Years Old Tate Stepping outside, the summer sun blasts me in the face. Holding my arm up I shield my face until my eyes can adjust to its brightness. “Mom, I’m going out!” I holler through the screen door. “Oh good, make some friends, honey!” I can’t help but roll my eyes. She’s always pushing me to make friends. Friends are lame. I would go see Chloe, the new girl that moved in at the end of the school year, but her mom sent her to summer camp. What kind of mom does that? Summer camp. Summer is for being home and being lazy. Anyway, I like Chloe and she seems to like me. She’s sassy, and funny. She’s so funny I even overlook that she’s a big girly girl. “Where are you going?” Journey opens the screen door and pops her head out. Her blonde hair is braided, and she put on way too much of Mom’s makeup. She’s going to be in so much trouble. “Nowhere, stay here, Journey.” I point to the front porch. She’s younger than me, and is always following me around. “Whatever.” Rolling her eyes, she goes back inside, letting the screen door slam behind her. Glancing along the street I see a bunch of the neighborhood kids running into Felicia’s back yard. Jumping off my stoop in one big jump, because my Converses are kick ass, I dart off that way. I wonder what they’re doing. Almost out of breath, I find them all climbing into a makeshift treehouse I didn’t know that was there. Then again, why would I? Nobody invites me to play. Maybe it’s because I can beat them all up. “Hey guys,” I pant out of breath. Felicia stops mid climb and turns toward me. Her flowered dress is no match for my mesh shorts and tank top. She’s always dressed so pretty. I’ve tried to wear things like that, Momma even insists I do, I just don’t feel comfortable in them. I look like someone put a dress on an ape. “Look who it is, it’s Tater Tot Tate,” Felicia teases. I scowl, but choose to ignore it. “What are you guys doing?” “Felicia is marrying Camden, so we have to get everything ready for the ceremony,” Riley informs, poking her redhead out the club window. “They’re going to kiss!” She giggles. “It’s not a wedding,” Camden objects from inside the house. I hear him, but can’t see him. My chest does this weird thing knowing that Camden is playing with them and didn’t invite me. Even more so, my stomach twists in an uncomfortable knot thinking about him kissing Felicia. “Oh,” I whisper. Not sure of what I’m feeling.

“You can’t play. Sorry.” Felicia shrugs smugly. “Why not?” She never lets me play with them, I don’t understand why. “Because, Camden can only marry one person. Duh.” She continues to climb. I kick at the dirt on the ground. “Well, I didn’t want to play your dumb game anyways.” Turning, I head back home. “Ah, she’s going to cry!” Riley giggles. “No I’m not!” I’m not going to cry. The sun’s just in my eyes. Reaching my house, I open the mailbox and find this month’s edition of Sports. Rolling it under my arm I head behind my house. There’s a tree that has a branch that swoops into a U shape. It may not be some fancy clubhouse, but it’s perfect for perching on. Climbing into my spot, I rub at my eyes and open it. I can’t focus on what it says though, all I can think about is Camden betraying me and playing with them. Kissing them. We always play together. He told me I was the only girl he’d ever play with. That was a couple years ago though. What if he likes Felicia, what if he wants to be her boyfriend? He’ll side with her, and hate me too! I’ll lose my only friend. I shake my head trying to focus on Boomer ’s speech after his big win last week. “Hey.” Looking out of the corner of my eye I find Camden standing down below. He has on a dark blue ball cap that is backwards, a white shirt, and blue jeans. “Shouldn’t you be locking lips with Felicia?” My tone of voice laced with venom. He climbs up and sits next to me. “I told them if you couldn’t play, I wasn’t either. To be honest the only reason I agreed was because I was bored.” Every boy in school is crazy about Felicia. I’m sure he was more than willing to kiss her. He’s lying. “Whatever.” “You don’t believe me?” He pinches his bushy brows together. “I don’t.” “What ya reading?” He changes the subject. I can’t help but eye him suspiciously. “Oh, is that about Boomer ’s win?” His eyes light up as he scoots closer. He smells good, like really good. Leaning in, I deliberately sniff him. It’s fresh, but kind of spicy too. “I watched his fight last week, he’s got a punch on him.” “I watched it too. It was amazing.” “I’m going to be the best MMA fighter there is when I grow up.” I smile. “I know you will.”

He looks down, his face turning red. “I’ll get all famous and I’ll take you all over the world, Tate.” My heart flutters. “Not if I become famous first,” I tease. His eyes flick to mine, and I feel as if I was just pushed under water. Quickly I look back at the magazine. Things are getting weird between Camden and me lately. I wonder if that’s why he wants to play with someone else? I wish I knew what was happening between us though. “It says here that if you want to be a good fighter you need a good boxing buddy.” I point to the underlying text. He frowns in confusion. “What’s that? I mean, what does a boxing buddy do exactly?” “I don’t know. I mean, I think it’s where you are just there for the other person. You know?” He nods, but he’s not looking at the magazine anymore. He’s looking at me. “Do you have a boxing buddy?” His voice cuts out and almost squeaks. My insides twist oddly. They’ve been doing that a lot lately, especially when I’m near Camden. “No, do you?” His pimpled cheeks flush. “No.” Turning the page there’s a picture of a guy in nothing but fighter shorts and boxing gloves holding a half-naked girl. They’re kissing, like really kissing. Something tingles in my abdomen, and I shift uncomfortably. Peering under my lashes at Camden, he smiles as he looks over the page. “What will your fancy wife think of you doing MMA?” I taunt, trying to break the awkward silence. He shakes his head. “I don’t want Felicia, I told you I was just bored.” I scoff, looking back down at the couple kissing. “Yeah right.” Suddenly my cheeks are squeezed and my head is turned. Camden smashes his lips against mine, and I melt into his hold. Slowly opening my eyes, Camden’s eyes open at the same time. I panic. “Ew!” I push him back, and he chuckles. “You didn’t like it?” He looks shocked. I look back down at the magazine. “I don’t know, kind of.” I glare at him. “But if you do that again, I’ll pummel you,” I threaten. “No you won’t ,Tate.” He presses his lips into mine once more, and I inhale a large breath through my nose. I don’t feel like I’m in this tree right now. I feel like I’m floating.

Forgetting I’m in a tree I lose my balance and fall off the branch backwards. Landing on my arm I scream when my arm makes a loud snap on impact. “Oh fuck!” Camden jumps down from the tree. “Are you okay?” “Get my Mom,” I croak in pain. Two hours later I’m sitting in a hospital bed with my arm wrapped up like a gordita. At least I got to pick a blue cast instead of some ugly white one. “You sure you’re okay honey?” Mom asks, her face wrinkled with concern. “Yeah, I’m okay.” But my head keeps going back to that kiss. It was my first kiss, and it was amazing. It was just like the kind you see in the movies. Only not the falling out of a tree part. “I’m going to call your dad now and let him know what happened.” “You think he’ll be mad?” Worry flushes through me, but I’m more nervous my mom saw Camden kiss me and that she might tell Dad. When I fell she came flying out the door as if she was standing right there. “Nah, these things happen.” She winks before leaving. Just as I close my eyes Camden and his mom walk in. My stomach does that weird twisty thing again seeing him. His white shirt is covered in dirt from helping my mom pick me up off the ground. “Hey, Tatum. Camden was really worried so he wanted to come see you. I hope that’s alright?” Camden’s mom smiles apologetically. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’m going home soon though.” I laugh. Kelly’s phone rings in her purse. Looking at the screen, she holds her finger up to me and steps outside. “How are you feeling?” Camden walks up to the bed. The tension is thick between us, and fear spins in my head that Camden’s and I friendship might be ruined. “I can’t really feel anything right now. The doctor gave me some medicine.” “It looks really cool.” He looks over my new blue cast. “Thanks.” My cheeks are warming. My eyes fall to his lips, and my body tingles. I wonder if I was his first kiss? Will he want to do more than kiss? I know Felicia has gone to second base with a kid from another school. Oh god, I’m not sure I’m ready for more. He gazes at the counter that holds cotton balls and gloves before turning. His mouth turning into a lazy grin. “Can I be your first?” My eyes pop out of my head. My mind going every which way with that question. “What?” Dimples form in his cheeks as he points to the cast. “Your cast…” He holds up a permanent marker. “I found it on the counter, can I sign your cast?” “Oh, yeah.” Wow, I need to pull my head from the clouds and slow down.

Pulling the cap off with his teeth he draws on it. “I’m going to say I have no choice but to be your boxing buddy now.” His eyes focused on what he’s drawing, he doesn’t look up. “Why?” “Because I broke your arm.” “You don’t have to do that.” “I want to.” His blue eyes flick to mine, and butterflies hit my stomach so hard I feel them in my throat. I guess this means the kiss didn’t harm our friendship any. Placing the lid back on the pen, he tosses it on the counter. Camden’s mother walks in, tucking her phone in her purse. “Okay Camden, let’s get going and give Tatum some rest.” “See you later boxing buddy.” Camden winks. Looking down at my cast I see what he drew. It wasn’t his name, but two boxing gloves that if you turned your head just right… it kind of looks like hearts.

Chapter Seven

Tate Chewing on my nails I walk up the street where my dad is watering the bushes out front. He’s got a tight grip on the green hose, his eyes squinted as the mist of water sprays about. Stepping up behind him, I spit out a piece of nail and take a deep breath. This is going to go horrible, I know it. Closing my eyes I feel my heart continuing to break. Dad and I used to be so close before the world fell apart at our feet. I’d do anything to get us back, but to do that… it’s going to take a couple hits to the chest. “Dad,” I mumble. He keeps spraying, my voice not loud enough. “Dad!” He whips around, nearly spraying me in the face. “Oh shit, sorry.” He lowers the hose, twisting the nozzle to turn it off. I attempt a smile, but it’s not genuine. He drops the hose, and rubs the back of his neck. “I hope you’re here to tell me good news.” I roll my eyes and cross my arms in front of my chest. “And what would that be? Hmm?” He scoffs. “That you’re going back to school. That you’re not going to throw away your life.” “Would you just stop!” I argue. “I’m so sick of it. You’re always on my ass, but you never hassled Journey about school. Why?” He shifts on his feet, his brows rising at my back talking. “Because Journey was never in trouble as a child, Tate. You were. You defied your mother and I. The school was always calling us telling us of your brawls and arguments. But you are so smart, so goddamn smart if you’d just apply yourself.” I point at him, my body temperature rising with the morning sun. “I was a typical kid. I took after my father, my role model. Why was that so bad?” I shrug. He shakes his head, stepping toward the porch. My eyes sting with the urge to cry, so I look away, not wanting to look weak. Only my dad and Camden can affect me the way they do. “I wanted a different life for you Tate, because look at me now.” He says it so softly I barely hear him before he slams the screen door. Turning away from the house I use the back of my hand to cover my mouth as an unexpected sob breaks through my trembling lips. I wish he could see how great he was and is. He is my dad, and I want us back. Staring at the gym I second guess going in. I second guess a lot of things. Why am I here, and not

just Chicago but this damn gym that I know Camden will be at? He hates me and that kills me. I wish I could go back and change so many things. The way Camden looks at me destroys me from the inside out. Maybe it was a mistake to leave college to chase a dream. I must be insane to think I can do this. Closing my eyes, I lower my head and sigh. This is what I wanted to be since I was a little girl. I can’t let anyone stand in the way of that. Not anymore. I didn’t come this far, just to come this far. “You can do this,” I whisper to myself. I’ve never been known to back down, and I’m not about to start now. Blowing out a breath of second guesses, I grab my gym bag and climb out of the car. The wind is blowing hard this morning, causing a chill to run up my spine. Once inside my eyes adjust to the dim light, and my skin instantly warms. “You’re early, Thomas will like the dedication.” My head whips in the direction of the voice, finding Cate flipping on a set of lights that hover over the ring. “Is Thomas here?” “Not yet, but he should be any minute,” she responds, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. I nod, looking around the place. I’m not sure where to put my stuff, or if there’s even a locker room for females. Thomas did say he didn’t train women, so it wouldn’t surprise me if there’s not one. Cate heads towards me, her hands on her hips. A black sports bra and spandex shorts is all that she’s wearing. “Don’t let them push you around. There’s a reason I’m the only female around here.” I turn my head, not sure what she’s going on about. “I don’t put up with their shit. They push, I push back twice as hard. You want to fight amongst them, you’ll have to push five times as hard.” The door opens letting in a whoosh of air. Thomas walks in with a thermos of coffee and ball cap lowered on his face. “You came.” His tone of voice indicating he’d hoped I hadn’t. “Of course, a deal’s a deal.” I shrug, my hand gripping the straps of my bag like a life line. “Deal is off,” he clips. “What?!” “I have a contract with Camden, and he’s not keen on the idea of me training you,” Thomas explains, striding behind the main counter to put his stuff away. “Too bad, we made a bet!” I remind him, following closely behind him. “Easy HellCat.” His eyes snap to mine. “I have someone coming to help train you. She’s good at what she does. She helps coach a couple of fighters who come through here.” Glancing behind me I look at Cate, curious as to what she thinks. She shrugs. That doesn’t help. Looking back at Thomas, I cross my arms and eye him suspiciously.

“Who is she, this trainer?” “Her name is Debs.” He sips his coffee right out of the thermos, his eyes peeking just above the top. The door opens and the wind blows posters along the wall. “Speak of the devil.” He juts his chin toward the door. A short stalky woman rushes through the door, the wind blowing her red hair everywhere. She has on a green hoody and black stretchy looking capris. “Debs, this is…” he pauses, eyeing me to find the right words, “HellCat, good luck.” She turns, her hands frantically smoothing out the rats nest the wind caused of her thin hair. “Tate. My name is Tate.” I smile. Her bright green eyes meet mine, they’re fierce looking. “Tate, I’m Debs.” She smacks her gum, walking toward me. “Let’s get one thing straight. If you don’t give me all you got, then we’re done. I ain’t got time for little girls looking for a life altering experience. You want a thrill, do a line of cocaine and play hopscotch on the train tracks.” She lowers her head, her eyes penetrating me like daggers. Cate clears her throat, catching my attention. She uses her hands like she’s pushing something. Push back. Push back. Years ago I would have set this woman straight. Seems I lost a lot more than my heart when I moved to LA. Digging deep, I find my bravado and pull it out. “Well, you got one thing straight. I’m not looking for some lady on a power trip. I need someone who knows what they’re doing, and has the patience to teach me what I need to know. If control is what you’re after, then coach some cheerleaders,” I jab. My stomach flutters with butterflies. A rush of adrenaline surfs through my limbs, and a wicked smile forms on my face. Damn, that felt good. Her lips curl into a small smile. “I think we will do just fine.” Her freckled nose twitches. “Lets get you taped up, and see what you’re made of.” Debs props her foot on the bench in the locker room. Apparently they do have a women’s bathroom, but a lot of the room in here is used for storage. There’s old boxing bags, and equipment sitting in the showers. “You know how to wrap your hands?” Debs asks, grabbing on my palms. “Yeah,” I reply, but that doesn’t stop her from continuing. She loops my thumb in the hole at the end of the wrap and starts winding it around my wrists and hands. “Ok, so I drew up your dietary plan,” Cate states, walking into the locker room. “Dietary plan?” I scrunch my nose. I knew this was coming, I just dread what it entails. “You want to be serious about your training, eating is one of the biggest priorities,” Debs adds, wrapping the tape between each of my fingers.

“You need to follow this religiously.” Cate hands me the folder to my hand that isn’t being strangled with boxing tape. I can’t eat sugar, fast food, soda, chocolate, cheese, and the list goes on. I knew fighters ate a pretty clean diet but this is going to be brutal. “Do I get to eat popcorn? It’s my favorite snack.” I look through the papers that are labeled with calories, and fat intake. “No. I mean, you can if its air popped I suppose. Just don’t drown it in butter, that defeats the purpose of air popping it,” Cate instructs. I frown. I love burnt buttered popcorn. I might die without it. “Do I get a cheat day?” I close the folder and set it down. I can’t look at it anymore. I might cry. “No,” Debs barks. “Yes, you get a cheat day,” Cate objects. “If anything you’re underweight.” “Alright, I’m going to take a piss while you do some stretches.” Debs smacks my ass and heads to the one stall not filled with jock straps. She’s an odd one, there’s something about her I can’t place. Flexing my fingers wrapped tightly in the wrap I head out of the bathroom. Looking at my hands, not paying attention, I run into someone. “Shit, I’m so sorry.” Looking up I find Camden, staring down at me with a vengeance. My body tenses, and I shift on my feet nervously. “You’re here.” His voice is dark, and unfriendly. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Everyone is welcoming me so nicely around here. “Because I don’t want you here.” He tilts his head to the side and glares. That hurts, and I probably deserve it. That doesn’t mean I’m going to take it though. “Well, we don’t always get what we want, do we?” I shove past him. “Stay out of my way, Tate,” he hollers at me. Anger blooms in my chest with his arrogant tone. Turning, I walk backwards and throw my arms out at my sides. “Since when did you become a whiny little bitch?” I fire back before turning my back on him. My heart beats a mile a minute against my chest as this cat and mouse game continues. Back where Debs is, I begin stretching, but keep my eye on Camden from the corner of my eye. “Alright. Do twenty pushups, jumping jacks, sit ups, and then we’ll hit the jump rope.” I gulp. I’m going to die. Taking a deep breath, I drop to the ground and attempt twenty pushups. My arms shake from my weight and my lungs scream for air. It takes me entirely too long to finish the set. I’m sure I look pathetic. I never knew how out of shape I was.

Sometime between the jumping jacks and sit ups, Debs got tired of waiting on me and ventured over to Thomas. She’s fluttering her lashes at him and flirting pathetically. I can’t tell if they’re a couple or just fuck buddies. Either way there is some serious attraction going on there. I take the opportunity to sit back and catch my breath. “You should just give up,” Camden insults, striking the punching bag like a coiled snake. “Maybe you should…” I’m so out of breath I can’t even finish that insult. I fall on my back, heaving for air. I want to say something witty and smart, but my chest is on fire from lack of oxygen, I can’t think clearly. “Tate! Get up and give me twenty more jumping jacks!” Debs orders. Quickly I get to my feet, nervous I got caught slacking. Jumping in place, I catch Camden smirking at my expense. “Yeah Tate, get up and stop being a pussy,” Camden laughs. “Screw you,” I pant between jumps. He’s such an asshole. I bet he’s loving this. After Debs is satisfied with my pre-workout, she has me shadow box my reflection. Nothing is faster than your own shadow. If you can beat that, you can beat anyone. Jumping on my back foot wrong, I fall to the cool ground and grab at my ankle. “Shit,” I seethe, rubbing the sensitive muscle. Man, I hope I didn’t sprain it. “Haven’t you heard, girls don’t belong in a man’s gym,” Camden says walking toward the water fountain. Standing from the floor I roll my eyes at his assumption. “We’ll see about that when I’m whooping your ass in sparring.” “Good luck. You better call your friends… you’ll need the help,” he whispers into my ear from behind before walking off. His words tickle the sensitive skin of my ear, running a shiver down my back. I can’t handle how my body responds to him like old times, meanwhile my heart and mind hate him. *** Three days of intense training and hostile tension between Camden and I go flying by. It’s hard to concentrate on what Debs is saying half the time because I can feel Camden’s eyes staring at me each day. They’re cold but spark a blazing trail along my skin. My heart thunders in my chest like a teenager with a crush when our eyes lock, it’s annoying. I should be more focused… but I’m not. When he’s not looking at me, I’m looking at him. He’s become such a good fighter, it’s hard not to watch him.

He’s quick on his feet, and he’s fucking gorgeous with his shirt off. Jump roping in place, Debs clocks me. “Alright you’re still slow, let’s see you hit today.” She consults the stopwatch and drops it to the floor. “I’m trying my best,” I pant, tossing the rope to the side. I haven’t seemed to have pleased her once in all of our training. I can’t tell if she’s just pushing me to my best, or just a bitch. “Trying is for quitters, doing is for legends. Remember that.” She points at me and winks. I blink rapidly, I think that’s the most inspirational thing that has come out of Debs’ mouth. “Stop looking at me like that and get your hands taped up and meet me at the punch bag,” she orders. Heading toward the locker room Camden steps out of the men’s. Noticing where I’m headed he steps in my way. “Move,” I instruct, but he doesn’t budge. “What’s the magic word?” he crosses his arms with a smug look. I can’t help but notice the veins criss cross along his biceps. “Move or I’ll kick you in the balls?” His brows lift as if he’s intrigued. “Ah, and how has that foreplay worked out for you?” “Never been better,” I reply, hinting that he’s terrible at foreplay. He steps forward, his face turning hard. “I think we both know that isn’t true.” “Do we?” I tilt my head to the side I cross my arms, my fingernails digging into my skin from being nervous. I’ve never done this bantering thing before. His body inches from mine, he slides a stray hair of mine behind my hair. “You think you’re being cute, but if I recall you’ve called out my name several times while my head was between those legs.” My bravado instantly falls as my panties soak from arousal. Stepping beside me he stops. “I’d almost believe that you didn’t still want me if your nipples weren’t hard enough to cut glass with.” My stomach sinks and I look down finding my nipples protruding through my sports bra and shirt. Fuck! Lifting my crossed arms to cover myself I head into the locker room. Cate helps tape my hands up, because Debs has somehow made her way over to Thomas and began her flirt session.

Glancing at the bag, I give it a tap, testing it out. I’ve hit the bags plenty of times before, but this one seems bigger. Maybe it’s because it’s newer. “You going to dance with it, or hit it?” Debs chimes, stepping up behind me. “Pretend it’s someone you hate. Like Camden.” She giggles to herself. “What do you mean?” I try to play it cool, but obviously the tension between Camden and I is that obvious. “I see the way you two look at each other. Now pretend it’s him and hit the damn bag.” Positioning myself next to the bag I eye it, then spot Camden in the ring. He is looking at me with a sexy gaze, yet it’s still laced with anger. He looks away like I don’t matter, and anger floods my limbs. His games are exhausting. I don’t know whether I want to hate fuck him, or just hate him. It pisses me off of how he blames me for everything. It pisses me off that I am to blame for everything. It pisses me off that I still want him. It pisses me off that he doesn’t want me. Glancing back at the bag a whoosh of air rips from my mouth and I give a one, two, jab, and the bag flies from the impact. Relief blooms through my chest, and I exhale a breath that I’ve been holding in for years. Debs’ mouth dramatically drops, her eyes looking between the bag and me. “What?” I question nervous I did something wrong. She looks at Thomas with surprise on her face. “I told you she can hit,” Thomas gloats standing by the ring. He’s been instructing Camden for the last hour to give it all he has when sparring. Camden rests his arms on the ropes, his forehead soaked with sweat as he watches me closely. I want to flip him off. “Do it again,” Debs instructs. Trying to focus on the bag and not the fact that Camden is watching me, I hit it again, using the same combo as before. “Alright,” she nods approvingly. “Maybe I have something to work with after all.” “So you think I can go pro? You think I have a shot at the MFC?” I can’t help but ask. MFC is where everyone wants to be in this career. She leans in closer, glancing around her. Looking with her I notice everyone’s attention is back on their own drills instead of me. “You think that is where the big money is? Well you’re wrong.” She steps closer, looking around her to see if anyone is paying us any attention before continuing. “Listen to me and we’ll get a fight that will make us both rich!” She waggles her eyebrows, her tongue snaking along her bottom lip. “I don’t get what you mean.” I shake my head confused. “Like sponsors and stuff?” “Oh, god no. This is more underground, like black market kind of shit,” she whispers.

“Underground?” I scrunch my nose with distaste. I want more than back alley fights in garages. I could have done those in LA, I want bigger. I want to pave the road for females everywhere. “I have already said too much,” she huffs, stepping back. “Just do what you’re told, and if you have what it takes you’ll know soon enough.” I can’t help but roll my eyes and continue to hit the bag. This woman is full of shit. *** For the next three days Debs has me on nothing but the punching bag. I’ve hit it so much, there are times I forget how to hit. My knuckles are cracked and bleeding, and my wrists are on fire. I’ve told her about the pain, she tells me to suck it up and starts flirting with Thomas. Friday morning as I’m heading out of Chloe’s house I find Journey sitting on the front stoop waiting for me. “Hey!” She jumps up, smoothing out her tie dye dress. Her hair is in a messy long braid, and her left eye looks darker than her right. “He do that to you? Or did you fall down again?” I ask sarcastically. She opens her mouth to respond, and then looks the other way. She is clearly getting tired of whatever is going on her so called relationship. “You need me to step in?” I’ve never wanted to cause so much harm to someone in my whole life. The feeling is somewhat unsettling. “No, I have it under control Tatum.” She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. I scoff, irritated. “You need to get away from him. Are you living with him?” She grabs the ends of her hair, mindlessly playing with it. “Yeah,” she mutters. “Leave. Go stay with Dad,” I demand, not ask. I bite my inner cheek as the urge to shake some sense into my sister becomes overwhelming. “Speaking of Dad, he was asking me to come to dinner tomorrow night,” she changes the topic. “So?” I don’t like where this is going. “So, I can’t remember the last time we all sat down and had a dinner together.” She raises her brows, looking at me pointedly. Rubbing the temples of my suddenly aching head, I sigh. Dinner with my dad is nothing short of a disaster, I know it. “Do it for me,” she whines. I hate when she does that, I can’t tell her no. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.” She gives a curt nod. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow night then.” Smiling she heads off back towards Dad’s.

“Looks like she’s still a mess.” Looking over my shoulder Chloe is leaning against the door with a cup of coffee in her hand. “Yeah, she is. This guy she is seeing, I’d like to get my hands on him.” My fingers flex on their own thinking about giving the asshole what he’s been giving my fragile sister. She’s a hippie, who wants to hit a hippie? The sky thunders, as dark clouds slowly blanket over us. Looks like a bad storm is rolling in. “I gotta get to the gym. I don’t want to be late. Who knows what Debs would do.” “Hey, the camel called, it wants its toe back.” Chloe points down at my crotch laughing. Glancing down I notice I have a huge camel toe. Shit. Hurrying back inside I pass a giggling Chloe. “Shut up,” I snap playfully. “Hey, it’s better me than someone else!” After changing into a different pair of yoga pants, I pass Chloe sitting on the front steps and head toward my car. “Knock ‘em dead!”

Camden The blinds are ripped open and Kaley’s perfume fills the room. Groaning I flip over and hear an audible gasp escape her mouth. “Um, good God!” she chokes on her words. Smiling I open one eye and find a blushing Kaley looking anywhere but at me and my saluting morning wood. “Why good morning Kaley, so good of you to come in my room first thing in the morning,” I casually state. “I’m here to assist, um.” She brings a clipboard up over her face. “Oh, you want to assist me?” I tease. “NO! What I meant was…” Flustered she throws her hands at her sides and storms out of the room. “Just get some pants on and meet me in the kitchen!” After having a good laugh I peel myself out of bed and grab some gym shorts. My hard cock sporting an impressive tent. Ever since it found out Tate was back in town, it’s hardly soft anymore. Bracing my hands on each side of the window seal I glance out at that gloomy sky. I sigh, preparing myself for the gym today. Tatum Fucking Davis. My Achilles heel. You think being in love hurts? Try falling in love at the age of seven. Tate was a girl that breathed

fire and laughter. Everyone else just seemed cold and dull compared to her. She made me fall in love with her. Pushing off the window I stride into the kitchen and find Kaley pouring a cup of coffee. “First things first,” she digs in. “No, no, and no. There, that was easy.” I grab my cracked cup from her, and she scowls. “I get it, no to everything. But, I did want to let you know that rent is due to this fine establishment.” “Get the movers to move it to my parents’ place.” My stomach twists thinking about being so close to Tate. I’m not sure if it’s a good feeling, or bad. I can’t stop thinking about her and it pisses me off. I don’t think I can ever forgive her. However, I find myself more eager to get to the gym than usual. “Ok, you got it. When do you want to be moved in by?” “Tonight.” “Um, really?” Looking over my shoulder I pinch my brows together. “Problem?” She shakes her head anxiously. “No, not at all. Your,” she looks at my boxes, “things will be at your parents’ place by tonight.” “Good.”

Chapter Eight

14 Years Old Tate Lying in bed I can hear my mother and father talking through the thin wall. “No, I don’t want the girls to know. Not yet.” My mother insists in a hushed voice. “Marlow, they can sense these things. I read it in a pamphlet, you need to tell them.” “No, I’m not dead yet and I won’t have my girls looking at me like I’m already gone!” I squeeze the pillow, my eyes stinging with the urge to cry. I knew my mother was sick. She has been carted to doctor appointment after doctor appointment after she fainted in the kitchen last month. Her and Dad have been distant, keeping secrets from Journey and I. I expected the worst, and those expectations were just exceeded. “This is all my fault. I, I should have been here.” My dad’s voice is loud, he’s not trying to hide the shame he is feeling. “These things are called a secret killer for a reason Nick. Nobody knew, not even I. How would you have known?” “Yeah, but had I been here, maybe I would have seen the signs. I could have taken the girls off your hands, given you a break.” “It’s cancer Nick, nobody can predict these things.” My mother ’s voice cracks, and I lose it. I start sniffling and bawling into my pillow so loud my door is opened. “Tatum?” My mother ’s voice is soft and I can’t help but break down even more. “Baby…” She climbs onto my bed and pulls me into her lap. “I don’t want you to die.” The words just come out before I think about them. She exhales, her hands smoothing my hair from my face. But she doesn’t say she isn’t dying. “Is it treatable?” “No, it’s stage four breast cancer, and it has spread into my lymph nodes.” “We are still going to try though.” My dad breaks in, leaning against the doorframe. “Your mother needs us all here, to stay strong with her.” “Does that mean you won’t be boxing next month?” I wipe a tear from my cheek. Dad is fighting in a match that could make his career. There are going to be scouts from all over. If he makes an impression, we could be rich. “No. I’m not going.” “Nicky—” My mom’s hand halts in my hair, her face scrunched disapprovingly of his decision. “It’s not up for negotiation Marlow. My days of boxing are over. My only fight is your cancer.

That goes for all of us.” Dad sets his eyes on me, and my heart cracks. He wants me to give up my judo and kick boxing classes. I can stop my classes for a while, I want to. I want to be here for Mom. After my parents leave I slip on my coat and shimmy down from my window. The night is bitterly cold, and the tears on my face freeze to my cheeks. Running in my fuzzy boots, the grass crunches beneath my feet as I make my way to Camden’s window. Tugging it open, I climb in. He’s asleep. His short blond hair is sticking up everywhere, and he’s shirtless. My insides twist looking at his perfect chest. We’ve cuddled before, but we had our clothes on. The kids at school have been experimenting with sex. The pressure has not been easy. He stirs, and I remember why I’m here. “Camden,” I whisper. His eyes flutter open, and a smile fits his perfect face when he sees me. “I was just dreaming about you.” His voice muffled with sleep. I roll my eyes, and shove him over. “Nice line.” “I thought you’d like that.” He throws the blanket over us, and hovers above me. His vivid blue eyes search my face. His smile slowly fades as he senses my sorrow. “What’s wrong?” My hands caress his tight chest, but my mind is hardly thinking about how close Camden’s body is to mine. “You know how I told you Ma has been going to a lot of doctors lately?” My voice cracks with emotion. “Yeah?” “Well, I just found out she has… she has cancer Camden.” Tears spring from my eyes, my heart beating hard. “Baby, don’t cry.” He lies down next to me, and thumbs my tears. “These things can be treated nowadays.” I shake my head, looking up at the posters on the ceiling. It’s a blonde chick with boxing gloves over her big boobs. “No, not this time. I mean, they’re going to try, but Mom pretty much told me there’s little hope.” Saying it out loud, my chest feels so heavy I can’t breathe. “Shit.” His back rises, as he takes a deep breath. “What can I do?” Turning my head, I palm the side of his face. Patches of stubble are beginning to grow on his face. “Can I just, can I lay here for a little bit. Mom’s in the living room crying, and Dad is taking down all his trophies. He blames himself, and is going to quit boxing. I can’t be in that house right now.” “Yeah, of course.” He grabs my hips and pulls me close. I can feel his excitement having me next

to him, and if I wasn’t such a mess I’d confront him about it, but right now I just want to be in the comfort of his arms. Getting comfortable, he spoons me from behind. His hot breath on my shoulder, and the smell of his skin surrounding me. What happens to my family when Mom is gone? Can Dad raise two girls or will he send me off? How long will Mom live for? My mind races with the worst of thoughts. “I can hear your mind from here babe.” He massages my shoulders, and kisses the back of my neck. “Stop stressing, I’m here.” “Thank you Camden,” I whisper into the dark. “What are boxing buddies for?” he replies. The next week is miserable as they start radiation therapy treatment right away. When Mom comes home from it, it’s as if death is literally in our house. She cries and screams from the pain, and I can’t help but cry and scream with her. It’s as if we are all dying with her. She’s suffering. It makes me angry and bitter at the world. Why would God take my mother away? I’ve been in many fights at school, my dad is not pleased with me. I’m trying to behave, trying not to bring any more stress to my mother but I can’t help it. I’m… I’m fucking angry! The only thing that helps is when Camden and I sneak to a judo class, or even a kick boxing class. Something about kicking that bag as hard as I can, it gives me sense of control… something I feel like I don’t have outside of the gym. I say sneak because Dad forbid me from any martial arts, and I tried to obey his wishes… but I just can’t. One day after sneaking off to judo with Camden I find my parents home early from Mom’s radiation treatment. The good feeling from the judo class vanishes. A nervous sweat spreading along my back as I silently pray Dad doesn’t ask where I’ve been. I touch my cheek, where a growing ache has become hard to ignore. In the middle of practicing a leg wheel with Camden, instead of landing on the floor, I landed my face right on my elbow. It’s a basic move, you spin your opponent to where their front is facing your back, apply pressure to their leg with your own, and flip them over your knee onto the floor. I wince, pressing my fingers too hard on my sore cheek. It’s definitely going to bruise. I should just raise a red flag saying, ‘I’ve been sneaking behind your back.’ “I’ll see you later?” Camden asks, that flirtatious smirk of his making me weak in the knees. He tugs on my fingers that are holding his hand, refusing to let go. A disgruntled cough sounds from the porch, catching my attention. My head whips toward the house, finding my dad staring down at me. He eyes zero in on my cheek, and his face reddens with anger. I swallow hard, awaiting the words to leave his mouth. “You’ve been off fighting again, haven’t you?”

“I um—” I fidget on my feet, trying to look anywhere but at him. I don’t want to lie, he knows I have been. “You should go,” I whisper at Camden. “You sure?” I silently nod. After Camden is out of sight I peek through my eyelashes at my furious dad. I’m nervous of what kind of punishment I’ll receive. Surely I’ll be grounded for life. I wish he would just understand I need this outlet. Everyone is coping with Mom in their own way, fighting is mine. When I’m not in the gym, I feel like the world is swallowing me up with its darkness. I become as violent and ruthless as the reaper that is hovering over our house. “I will not tolerate this. This ends now.” Dad shakes his head and stomps into the house. “Wait, what are you doing?” My words come out frantic as I follow my dad into the house. Giving Camden a meek smile, I pull my hand from his and head toward my house. “I promised your mother that I would take care of you girls, and that’s what I’m doing.” Walking into my room he grabs the posters of celebrity fighters, and tears them off the wall. The sharp sound of paper ripping echoing throughout the room. “NO!” I run up to him, and tug on his arm, willing him to stop. “It might have been cute when you were little, Tate. Hell, I might have even influenced it, but fun and games are over. It’s time to grow up. His head whips back and forth, looking for his next item of destruction when his eyes land on the blue crate in the corner of my room. My prized collection of magazines. Some of them are even signed by indie fighters. He marches forward and picks them up, and my heart thuds against my chest in panic. The idea of them being thrown in the garbage too hard to bear. The dew will make them wet, causing the color to run and pages to stick. They’ll be ruined. Years of collecting, gone. I grab the crate, pulling it with all my might. “Dad, you can’t do this,” I sob, tugging on the blue plastic crate until my knuckles are white. “Please!” That rage and anger that boils deep within my soul surfaces, and before I can think about my actions, one of my hands releases the crate and I slam it into my dad’s face. The crate drops to the floor, as he clutches his face in surprise. A burning ache races down my arm, settling in my knuckles. Surprise flashes across my face, before I mask it with a death stare. Pretending my hand doesn’t feel like a dozen bees just stung it. “You’re killing us all,” I push through gritted teeth. His face reddens, and he harshly grips me by the arm, tugging me out of the room. “Let go of me!” I strain against his hold, shoving him and slapping him as he drags me out of the

house. Before I can steady myself he pushes me out the door, causing me to stumble down the stairs. I can’t help the tears streaming down my face as I stare at my father. “You will obey my rules under my roof, or you won’t live here anymore!” he points at me, his cheek glowing red where I hit him. “Maybe I don’t want to live here anymore!” I sob. “I hope you don’t mean that.” He shakes his head, and slams the door shut. Within seconds, Camden rushes from his house to my side. Our houses are close, and I know my window was open. He saw and heard the whole thing. “Babe, what the hell?” he whispers, his hands snaking around me and cocooning me into his warm hold. “I hit my dad,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I know, I saw.” “I don’t know what to do Camden.” My voice cracks as I grab at his shirt like a lifeline. Hoping he has the magic words to make everything better, to make the pain vanish that is vining its way through my body. He pulls me an arm’s length away and looks me in the eye. His vivid blue eyes looking down into my soul. “You know I’m here for you, but you’ve got to work through this with your dad, Tate. My dad is a piece of shit, and could care less about my mother and me. Your dad, he just cares too much.” I wipe my stray tear, my heart cracking with the thought of giving up what I love, what sets me free. If it saves my family, I’ll do it though. “I’m going to have to give up fighting, find a different passion. That means I can’t go to anymore classes with you, Camden,” I weep, looking down at my feet. Saying it, and hearing it come from my mouth hurts much more. When I was a little girl I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I wanted to be a professional fighter. The idea grew in my heart and mind and I had no doubt I would reach my goal. God is taking more than my mother away, he’s taking my life away.

Chapter Nine

Camden When I walk inside the gym I immediately notice Tate is hitting the bag, wincing with every strike. Debs has had her on that bag the last few days, and hasn’t even corrected her stance. It’s no wonder Tate’s hurting. Taping my hands, it eats at me that Thomas gave Tate the worst trainer and it’s my fault. I know he’s screwing Debs, but surely he knows she’s a shit trainer. Nobody wants her, not even Chase. She wants fighters who are already trained and, making it big. She’s a greedy bitch that knows nothing about MMA. If anyone doesn’t belong here, it’s her. I’m nervous Tate may get hurt under Debs’ watch. Flexing my hands, anger pools in my chest that I even care. I let go of Tate a long time ago, I need to keep it that way. Stepping out of the locker room, I find Thomas and Debs sitting next to the ring. Debs has this love struck look on her face, and is completely ignoring Tate. Again. Minding my business I climb into the ring, jumping on my feet and roll my shoulders trying to warm up. “Camden, spar with Pinky for a bit on the mats,” Thomas instructs. Pinky is the one that drew the short straw in assisting my vigorous sparring sessions. He wears the full body shield, and lets me punch him around daily. He does a lot of sparring around the gym, and everyone loves him. Pinky waddles into the ring with gear head to toe. He gives me a nod, and I start laying combos into him. Staying light on my feet I try to outsmart him, and hit him before he can think about blocking. Even with all the noise in the gym, all I can hear is her. Tate. She whimpers with every punch, cursing every time the bag comes back at her. Glancing at her I find her bent over holding her wrist, her face in a state of pain. I try to ignore it, but I keep finding myself looking back at her, worried. “Stop!” I demand Pinky. He stills, lowering his hands. I glance at Debs, she’s oblivious to Tate’s pain. If I don’t step in, Tate is going to break her damn wrist. Seeing red I climb through the ropes and I eye Thomas angrily. “When I told you not to train Tate, I didn’t mean find the worst coach you could find to train her,” I spit, before staring daggers into Debs. “Excuse me!” Debs gasps, holding her chest. Marching toward Tate, her face goes pale when she notices me coming at her.

She tries to play it cool, and hits the bag. “Stop,” I snap. She huffs, rolling her eyes before standing straight. “You’re going to break your damn wrists if you keep at it like you are.” “I don’t need your help.” She steps back, crossing her arms. Her pink nail polish sticks out amongst beautiful, pristine skin. Since when does Tatum Davis wear nail polish? “That might be so, but between your pink nail polish and that bitch face you keep wearing, nobody wants to tell princess almighty she’s not doing it right. So, that leaves me.” Her jaw drops, her eyes frantically looking anywhere but at me. Exhaling an annoyed breath, I step forward and grab her shoulders to position her. Warmth spreads through my palms from the contact, the fire licking up my arms and exploding in my chest. And just like that, years of telling myself I hated and was going to forget Tatum Davis… vanish. All the anger replaced with flashbacks of us together as kids. Her eyes widen as if she felt it too and quickly I let go. My heart beating wildly as I try and shake out the memories of her. “Um,” I stumble on my words. “Keep your fists closer to your chest. When you go to strike, twist your hand to where the top of your fist is horizontal,” I school, as I demonstrate. Her brows furrow as she watches me strike the bag. “Got it?” She blinks a few times, as if she’s trying to focus. Stepping back, I gesture toward the bag. “Hit it.” She eyes me warily, like she’s embarrassed to do it in front of me. “Do it,” I reaffirm, raising an eyebrow. Getting into position, she gives it a punch, and her body sways inward. What the hell? Did she move to LA and forget everything she knew? “Wait, why are you leaning in like that?” Grasping her shoulders, she takes a quick breath. The subtle sound hitting me right in the cock. Images of her under me when we were teenagers flash in my mind and I have to let go of her. Anger pulses through me, breaking through my concern for her. I want to hate her, why can’t I just stick to my guns and be an asshole! “Just keep your spine straight,” I demand, my tone hard. Pissed at myself for giving a shit. She nods, and hits the bag again. Her body stays straight, and her hit is more powerful and direct than before. She really is a great boxer. “Good. Try that.” I can’t help the praise leaking through my tone. Shit, I gotta get away from her. Turning, Debs is staring at me like she wants to kill me. “I thought her daddy was some famous boxer, how is that she can’t throw a correct punch?” she sneers. I glance at Tate, letting her answer that. We used to practice hitting all the time as kids. I’m pretty sure we were doing it all wrong, but it

seems like her skills are definitely lacking more than I remember. Tate grabs the bag with both hands and leans her head on it. “My dad played the role of being a father when I was finally old enough to practice the sport. He never taught me how to throw a correct punch because when we sparred we did it for fun. My mother was sick with cancer and let’s just say death has a way of changing people. Is that enough of a history lesson for you, or do you want to know more about my life?” Slowly turning her head, her sad eyes hit me and I instantly want to protect her all over again. Exhaling a ragged breath I turn to get the hell away from her. Debs has a smart ass look on her face, her arms crossed as I pass her. I can tell she’s about to fire a smart ass comment back at Tate so I stop. “It took me five minutes to teach her to throw a correct punch, how long have you been training her again?” Marching past her, I search for Pinky. I’m so confused, so pissed at the way Tate gets to me that I may give Pinky the beating of his life. Thank god he has extra padding on today.

Tate Thomas and Debs leave early, along with a lot of the other trainers and fighters. The storm has picked up, and nobody wanted to get caught in the middle of it. It’s just Camden and I. Alone. The gym is filled with so much tension even a perfect combo couldn’t split through it. Camden keeps looking at me, and I can’t help but sneak a few glances myself. My body is vibrating with sexual tension as I watch him. He’s something else when he’s in his element. I can’t believe he helped me today. It was a surprise to see him being… nice. I was humiliated I have been hitting wrong all this time, but I’m relieved he taught me. I don’t think my wrists could have gone another minute going the way I was. To be honest, I kind of wish he was mean to me because when he’s nice I want him that much more. When I left four years ago it hurt, I felt like I was dying from the inside out of loneliness. I went from doing everything with Camden, to nothing. I must have adapted to that pain because being so close to Camden causes me to feel it as if it was the first day I left all over again. I wonder if he’ll ever forgive me? The lights flicker with the sound of thunder and I tense. “We should probably get going,” Camden suggests, as he glances at the windows that flash with lightening every now and then. Nodding, I head toward the locker room to clean up.

Un-wrapping my hands, my knuckles stick to the tape with dried blood. After Camden instructed me how to hit correctly, the impact was less painful, but the damage was already done. I wonder if he’s naked right now. Maybe in the shower. I bite my bottom lip at the thought of sneaking in the men’s locker room, maybe slipping into the shower with him. Butterflies fill my stomach at the risky thought. I would if the idea of rejection wasn’t so probable. I’m a complete spaz when it comes to men, all except Camden. He’s the only one I have ever been comfortable with. My mother always said you’d fall in love with your best friend. Camden was not only my best friend, but he was my only friend. The world was lost when it was just us. After getting dressed, I head out of the locker room just as Camden does, nearly running into him again. “Shit, sorry.” I step back letting him go. “No, you go ahead.” He waves me forward. This is so awkward. Giving a tight lipped smile I walk ahead. He showered. His hair is wet, and I can smell his Old Spice shampoo. It takes everything I have not to look behind me to see his wet blond locks one more time. Opening the front doors, the rain pours from the skies. Counting to three, I sprint toward the parking lot. The rain slamming into my skin like hail. Jumping in my car, I’m soaked and cold. I throw my bag in the side seat, and attempt to start the ignition. It doesn’t start. My eyes widen, and I try again. Nothing. The radio doesn’t turn on, and neither do the lights. The battery is dead. I must have left the headlights on. Getting out, I run around the front of the car and pull the hood open. A perfect roar sounds from beside me, startling me. Camden reverses his dark 1969 Camaro out of his parking spot his eyes on mine as he pulls away. I can’t believe he’s just going to leave me stranded. What a jackass! I swipe my wet hair from my face, and duck inside the car to grab my phone from my bag to text Chloe. Taillights light up the parking lot and I stall. Glancing out of my car I find Camden stopped in the middle of the parking lot. I clutch my phone in hand, unsure if he’s stopping to help me or just stopping in general. The driver door opens, and he sticks his head out. “Get in!” Reaching inside my car I grab my bag, and race toward Camden’s nice shiny car without a second thought. Quickly, I get in and shut the door. The smell of old leather hits me first, then Camden. He’s all I smell now.

The seats are worn leather, and the dashboard is lit up with an old time cassette player. Even with the car ’s old age, it’s in great condition. I know a lot about cars because I came across a few car ads in my sports magazines as a kid; you pick a few things up from them. “Thanks,” I mutter under my breath. He either didn’t hear me or doesn’t respond as he pulls out of the parking lot. Looking out of the corner of my eye, I catch him looking at me before he directs his attention back on the road. My heart is beating a mile a minute. My thighs are clenched together like they’re glued, and if my underwear weren’t soaked from the rain they’d be wet just by being this close to Camden. After all these years, the boy I fell in love with next door still does it for me. I’m starting to think I’ll never move on. I should really invest in a vibrator. “How are the hands?” His voice comes out sexy and rough. I glance down at my hands noticing they’re discolored and look terrible. “They’ve seen better days.” I turn them, hiding them from his sight. I feel like an amateur next to him. “You seemed out of breath today,” he observes, his jaw cocked as if he’s chewing the inside of his cheek. He’s trying to make conversation, which takes me aback. “What can I say, I’m out of shape.” I shrug, smirking. “Jog a mile a day, that’ll help build your endurance up, trust me it works.” His tone of voice light, as if we are old buddies catching up. Why, why is he helping me when he clearly told me to go away? Does he feel sorry for me? “Why are you telling me this and why did you help me today?” I ask, not being able to keep the thoughts to myself any longer. He stops at a red light and pins me with those gorgeous eyes. “I’m not going to sit back and watch you break your damn hands Tatum.” “Don’t do me any favors, and… and don’t call me that.” I grit my teeth in anger. “You’re just as stubborn as you were when you left, you know that?” “Yeah, and you’re still a know it all, did you know that?” His hand reaches for the gearshift just as mine reaches for the dial to turn some music on. The touch of his warm skin against mine I gasp in reaction and pull away. His mouth parts and eyes flash with something seductive just before he draws his back. Our eyes look around the car awkwardly, as we stop at another red light. “I don’t remember you tensing up so much when I touched you before,” he states matter of fact, and my face pales. He’s so sure of himself it’s ridiculous. I’m sure his bevy fan group help stroke that ego of his. Well, I’m no groupie, and won’t play his games.

“I only tense when I’m in the car with bad drivers.” I point at the light that is now green and a car honks behind us. Camden glances in the rearview mirror before speeding off so fast the tires spin. He glances at me as if he’s waiting for me to squeal in fear, but I don’t. I like going fast, not only in a car but in life. He shifts gears, and eyes me again. My heart skips a beat as he practically drifts around a corner, but I remain calm on the outside. He finally slows down and I exhale a calming breath. “If you’re trying to scare me it won’t work. I like going fast.” A sexy smirk fits his face. “I remember a few things you liked doing fast.” My mouth parts, and I give a sideways glance. My mind searching for a comeback. “Don’t be ridiculous, you know they say too many hits to the head can cause brain damage, I think you’ve met your quota.” I tilt my head to the side and give a condescending smile. “Cute, but I see the way you look at me when I’m training.” He keeps his eyes on the road as he points out my horrible stalking. “Ever think I was looking for fighting tips?” I question, but I’m lying through my teeth. I’m not thinking about anything fighting when looking at him. Running my palms along my sweats my body grows anxious. “No, you look at me like you want me, yet left me behind like I was nothing. Ironic isn’t it.” My head whips to face him, my fingers digging into the seat with anger. “I didn’t leave. I—” “You did.” He cuts me off. Closing my eyes I try to calm myself and explain why I left the way I did when I was eighteen. “I did what I thought was best Camden. If I called you, or told you where I was, you would have come after me.” My face contorts as I bare my soul, wishing he could see I was a confused person four years ago. I missed my mom so much when I left for college, I didn’t want to accept that she was gone. My dad pounded in my head that I needed to leave Chicago, get away and try new things. “Exactly. We would have been together, what was so wrong about that?” he asks. With one hand on the wheel he glares at me with a look of hurt in his eyes. Anger laces its way through that he doesn’t see I was doing the selfless thing. “You would have thrown everything away for me and in the end I would have been a pregnant teenager while you worked some dead end job trying to pay rent in our shit trailer, all the while hating me. All because I was selfish and made you give it all up!” My face reddens as the urge to cry becomes overwhelming. His narrow eyes slowly lift, softening his angry look. But only briefly, as his jaw ticks and his brows pinch together in frustration. “Bottom line, you left and coming back here thinking we’d get back together was plain stupid on your part.”

I open my mouth to protest me wanting to get back with him, but the words don’t come out. Hurt chokes me of a rational explanation. Through all of his games and flirting I thought getting back together might have been a possibility… ‘til now. Hurt strikes my chest so hard I have to look the other way as a tear manages to escape my left eye. “I guess so,” I mumble, as my hand searches for the door handle, opening it, I grab my bag and get out. “Thanks for the ride.” Venom drips from my voice as I slam the door. Rain splinters my skin it’s falling so hard, wind sweeping my hair around my face. I make my way onto the sidewalk and peer up under my wet lashes, I’m several blocks away from home. I should look for a train. Camden drives beside me and rolls the window down, the rumble of his car barely heard over the storm. “Damn it, Tate! Get back in the car!” “Screw off!” “Get in the fucking car, Tate!” Ignoring him I continue walking. “I’m not going to do this, I’ll drive off,” he threatens. “Then go!” I throw my hand out, gesturing for him to just leave. He stops the car, and gets out. His feet stomping in the rain as he marches toward me. “It wasn’t up for you to decide Tate, leaving me here to rot, that should have been left for me to decide!” His hair is soaked, sticking to his forehead as he yells at me. “I did what I thought was best given the circumstances. When I left, I wasn’t the Tate that you loved. I was a shell of a person, I was lost and scared. I didn’t want to ruin your life while I figured out mine.” My voice cracks with emotion. This has been weighing heavy on me for four fucking years. I had my dad in my ear telling me my mom wanted me to go to college, and at that point I would have done anything for my mom. Leaving hurt me more than he’ll ever know, but staying would have killed me. My family was broken, and I was lost. Both of us pant, as we eye each other. Expelling years of things we’ve wanted to say but never got the chance. Looking the other way he swipes his wet hair from his face, he can’t even stand to look at me and it hurts more than anything he could say. A scream sounds from the distance, and my head whips in the direction. It’s close. I look around trying to see where we are, what part of Chicago we’re in. “We need to go,” Camden’s voice goes serious. His hand pressing on the small of my back in a protective manner. “No, I’m not getting back in that car with you.” I pull from his hand. I can’t get back in that car knowing how much Camden dislikes me, knowing that our chances of

getting together will never happen. I knew over the years the likelihood of that happening were slim. I thought he’d move on and get married, or at the very least we’d never run into each other again. But seeing him now, I can’t lie- I want to be with him again. I never stopped loving him. “You get in the car, or I will put you in the car,” he threatens. I raise a brow, as the scream sounds again. It’s bone chilling, and has me double thinking my stubbornness. “Fine!” I throw my hands up in defeat and stomp off. Getting into the car we don’t make eye contact, there’s no stolen glances even. It’s intense, and I’m literally counting down the miles ‘til we get to Chloe’s place. I’ve told him everything. Why I left? Why I came back? It’s up to him if he wants to forgive me, or be angry. Driving into our neighborhood I point at Chloe’s house. “Pull in there.” “Why?” He looks at me with concern, I’m sure he’s curious why I’m not having him drop me off at my dad’s. Though my dad and I not getting along shouldn’t be anything new to Camden because he witnessed how damaged our relationship was before I left. That is one of the reasons I came back to Chicago. I miss what I had with my dad. I want to fix what is broken, I just don’t know how. “Dad and I aren’t seeing eye to eye, so I’m staying with Chloe.” Not that it’s any of his business. If he’s so done with me, why does he care? He shakes his head and pulls into Chloe’s driveway, the expensive car purring as it stops. “Let me guess, he’s pissed you came back. Does he know you’re back in the gym?” he questions. I can’t dive into this with him, I’m emotionally done. Glancing at Camden I grab my bag, refusing to answer him and get out. Once inside I watch Camden pull out of the driveway, but instead of turning around, he stops at his parents’ place, and that’s when I notice the moving truck parked out front. My stomach twists. Is he moving in? My hand touches the glass as I look the familiar scene over. It looks just like the day he moved into our neighborhood and changed my life.

Chapter Ten

16 Years Old Camden Sitting on my front steps I watch the cars leave Tate’s house. Her mom passed away yesterday and family has been there every second of the day. I left my window open last night in case she needed me, but she never came. I’m trying to give her time to heal, but it’s killing me. Grabbing my old baseball cap, I slip it on and head toward the train tracks behind our house. “Hey Camden!” Stopping, I turn and find Felicia with some other girls. “Oh, hey.” I give a wave. “My parents are gone tonight, you want to come over?” She twirls her hair, and bats her eyelashes. She knows Tate is my girl, she also knows Tate is going through a lot. It’s no secret around school she puts out, and I would be a liar if the idea of getting laid hasn’t crossed my mind. But I want Tate, she’s making me work for it. But she’s worth it. “Nah, I got plans.” Tugging my cap down, I continue toward the tracks. Pushing past the brush, I spot Tate propped up against the large tree that sits close to the tracks. She’s rifling through the crate of magazines I pulled from the garbage for her last year. Everything else was ruined from being inside the garbage can, but her dad just set those beside it. When I showed her I saved them, she let me touch her boobs. Let’s just say sex has been on my mind since then. “Hey.” I sit down next to her. Her sad eyes find mine, and my chest squeezes. She’s beautiful. Her hair is in a beautiful braid, and she’s wearing a tight black dress. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress before.” She looks down at herself, and giggles. Her soft laugh turning into a downright cry. Oh shit, what do I do? “I hate it!” Her fingers tense as if she wants to wring someone’s neck, she’s angry. She’s hurt and angry and I wish I could take her pain away. “People who never even talked to my mother have been here for weeks. My dad forced me to style my hair like this and wear this stupid dress.” Makeup I’ve never seen Tate wear smears down her cheeks. She may not dress like this on any other day, but one thing is clear. Tate is not a little girl anymore. She’s becoming a woman. She stands and starts tearing at the fabric and my eyes watch her closely. “My mother knows I hate dresses, she wouldn’t make me do this. She wouldn’t want this!” Before I can think about the words coming out of her mouth, she has

stripped down to a tan strapless bra, and matching panties. My penis instantly goes hard. “I’m just…” She falls to the ground, her knees smashing into the rocks. “I’m so tired of being sad.” Her eyes slowly find mine. “Camden.” Her words come out sultry, and I have to wipe my eyes to make sure I’m hearing her right, that this isn’t a dream. “Yeah?” “Make me feel something, make me feel good, make me feel pain, just something besides this numbness that has taken root in my chest.” Her hand fists right above her tits. She crawls over me, her knees straddling my lap. I rub at the back of my neck anxiously, not sure what to say or do. “I’m ready,” she whispers. Cupping her cheek, I thumb her bottom lip. “Are you sure you want to do this now?” Her eyes fall as she thinks it through. Then bright green eyes flick to mine. “Yes.” She sounds so sure. Scooting back, I find a patch of grass and situate us to where she’s under me. Her braided hair starts to dishevel with the cut grass sticking to it, and her cheeks flush. Using my trembling hand, I pull the cups of her bra down and her firm breasts greet me with bright pink nipples. My balls squeeze with a tingle so intense I feel it in my stomach. When I touched her boobs before, it was over her shirt. This is skin on skin. She looks a mess with her frayed braided hair, smeared makeup, and swollen eyes from crying. But God if she doesn’t make messy look beautiful. “Touch me,” she asks lightly. Without a second thought, I grab her breast with both hands. She moans, and rocks herself onto my leg. Leaning down to kiss her, she leans up at the same time and we butt heads. “Ouch,” I laugh, rubbing my forehead. “I’m sorry, I’m nervous.” She blows out a ragged breath. “We don’t have to do this,” I reassure her. I want this, but not if she’s not ready. “No, I’m ready.” She grabs my cheeks making me look right at her. “I’m ready, Camden.” Lowering my head I kiss her plush lips, before taking her mouth fully. She tastes of salty tears and stolen wine. My hands swim down her curves before finding her panties. My heart beats wildly as I sit up to pull them down her legs. I can’t help but look between her legs. I can’t believe this is going to happen, I’m finally losing my virginity.

“Do you,” her voice cracks, “do you have a condom?” Frantically I search for my wallet. “Yeah, I have one.” She eyes me suspiciously as if I have been carrying a condom around for any girl to have sex with. “I’ve been waiting for this day since we were thirteen, Tate.” She smiles a smile so big I can’t help but smile back. Ripping the foil, I pull out the rubber and place it on my shaft. It’s suffocating and feels awkward. Positioning myself in-between her legs again, I nudge her opening and her eyes widen. I still. “You ready?” She nods, as she licks her bottom lip. “Wait, Camden?” Her eyes flutter as she looks at me deeply. “Yeah?” “If you break my heart, I’ll break your face.” Her voice is so soft I barely hear her, but looking at her face I can tell she is more than serious. “That’ll never happen, Tate.” I brush her hair from her face, cupping the back of her head so she looks right at me. Grabbing her hips, I lower my mouth to hers as I slowly push myself inside of her. It’s tight, squeezing me like my hand never could. She whimpers into my mouth and I slow my thrust. Darting my tongue into her mouth, I capture her cries as I go as deep as I can go. Opening my eyes, I see hers flutter open. Placing my hands on the ground, I look between us as I slowly withdraw to the tip, finding blood smearing the condom. I look back up, and find she was watching too. I continue my slow pace as I don’t want to hurt her. Just as I’m getting my rhythm she reaches up and pulls my hair. My brows pinch together in confusion, and she tugs again. What the hell? Fisting a handful of her primped hair for the funeral I pull it and her eyes roll. That… is a surprise. She tilts her head to the side, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her eyes harden. “Hurt me, pull harder.” Her words breathy. “Just do it.” Wanting to please her, I pull her hair harder. Her fingernails dig into my scalp as she pulls mine hard. The pain does something to me, it ignites something so deep I pull hers harder, as if it’s a competition who can jerk whose hair the hardest, and she moans. I took Tatum’s virginity on the train tracks that day, as she did mine. It wasn’t gentle like you see in the movies, it was rough and on fire. It was the best day of my life.å

Chapter Eleven

Tate After running two miles I shower, letting the hot water set into my aching calves. I only had to stop ten times while I heaved for breath. I fell once bruising and skinning my knee, and my toes are aching from my tight tennis shoes. I’m really out of shape. Pulling on my sports bra and loose cross back tank top, I head out the door to my dad’s house. I’m dreading this dinner. It won’t go well, I don’t know why Journey insists on us doing this family thing. We aren’t a family anymore, not since Mom died. Passing Camden’s parents’ house the moving truck is gone today, but his sexy car is still in the driveway. Hurt aches in my chest as I think about never being his again. When I moved to LA, it hurt and it was the toughest thing I’ve ever done breaking ties with Camden, I always thought in my head that maybe one day we’d get back together. That hope that had laced itself in my soul was severed last night. Reality punching me in the gut at full force. I lost the only boy I ever loved. Shaking my head of the thoughts, I step up the steps of my old house and open the door. The familiar smell of home hits me along with so many memories heartache fills my chest. Dad is sitting in his green chair in front of the TV, as dishes clank in the kitchen. “Hey Dad,” I greet, stepping further into the house. He turns in his seat, his bald head shining with the burgundy lamp beside him. “Well look who it is.” He bobs his head as his eyes pin me with distaste. Here we go. “Did you realize being a professional boxer was stupid yet?” “Dad!” Journey steps out of the kitchen. She’s wearing an olive green dress, and her hair is braided with little flowers weaved in. God, she is a tree hugger. But a cute one. “It’s alright Journey, not all of us can cope with giving up on our life’s dreams.” I fire back. “Really, is that what you think I did smartass?” Dad tilts his head to the side, a smug look fitting his face. “Looked like it to me.” I cross my arms, challenging him. “If your mother…” he starts to mumble under his breath. “If my mother what?” “Please guys,” Journey pleads. “Can’t we just have dinner like a normal family for one night?” Ignoring her, I stop right in front of the TV.

“Mom wanted me to be more of a girl, and Mom may have wanted me to pay more attention in school, but you know what I came to realize… Mom would have supported me in the end! She’d be at every fight, and cheering my name. She was always there before she got sick, and she would be today if she were still here!” He stands, his face scrunched in anger. “No, she wouldn’t. She had a girl for a daughter and that’s what she would have wanted, for you to act like a lady! Don’t you see, I chose boxing over her! If fighting was never a part of our lives maybe she’d still be here!“ It stings to think Dad blames himself for Mom being gone still after all these years. Grief and mourning never leaving this family even after all these years. “She would still be gone!” Tears fill my eyes. His face goes stoic, his eyes that were once so vibrant now ghostly. “She would still have had cancer, and you being away for a week here and there wouldn’t have changed that!” He sits, rubbing his chin. I’ve never seen him back down so easily. It’s scary. “Dad, I know it hurts, but you have to let go. If you don’t—” “I can’t!” His voice wavers, as he stands. “I fell in love with your mother when we were kids. We were supposed to grow old together.” His eyes water, and my heart breaks. “I didn’t do right by your mother when she was alive, I’m just—I’m trying to do right by her now. Raising two girls, it’s not so easy you know.” His voice cracks, as he rubs the back of his neck frantically. I glance at Journey, who is a mess. She is doing drugs and dating abusive men. I’m a college dropout that is a ball of anger, ready to explode at any moment. We’re a mess. Biting my bottom lip, I nod and fight back the tears trying to fall from my eyes. “Dinner is done,” Journey squeaks from behind us. “I’m not hungry,” Dad croaks, before heading to his room. Journey wipes her eyes and heads back into the kitchen. As heart breaking as it was to watch my father break, I think it is the first time I have seen him cry about Mom. “I need some air,” I mutter, wiping my cheeks of spilled tears. Crossing my arms, I head out the back door. Walking until my feet hit the train tracks. I can’t help but let my eyes sweep to the tree. The makeshift box still there that Camden made to hide my sports magazines after my dad took them away. I wonder if it still contains my magazine collection in it. Wiping the snot from under my nose, I head toward it. Opening the lid the blue crate greets me. I can’t help but smile, and grab the one off the top. “Everything okay?” Grasping my chest, I quickly turn finding Camden standing on the tracks. He’s wearing jersey shorts and no shirt. A blue bandanna wrapped around his head.

His chest is defined and literally not fair to the woman race. He looks tough and sexy. “Camden, you scared me,” I breathe heavily. “You alright?” Lowering his head, his eyes look at me with concern. He must have heard everything. Looking back down at the magazine stack I sigh. “I forgot how thin the walls on these houses are.” Glancing back up, he crosses his arms awaiting my response if I’m fine or not. “Yeah. I’m fine.” Sitting on the grass, I open the old magazine. The pages stick to each other from old age. Speaking of houses, I wonder where his parents are. “I haven’t seen your mom or dad, do they still live in the house?” “No. Dad had another affair and Mom divorced him and ran off with Aunt Jenny, leaving him the house and the debt. I bought the house before the bank could take it.” My brows rise at the information. His dad always eyed the women on the block and he drank a lot. I’m not surprised he strayed again. Camden makes his way to me and sits next to me. The smell of his cologne causing my body to come alive with need. We are sitting in the same spot I lost my virginity. My mind can’t help but drift to sex. I swallow hard and try to focus on the magazine in my hand. He sits back on his hands, and looks around him before hitting me with a smug smile. “What?” “Memories is all,” he shrugs, waggling his brows. I roll my eyes, I knew he was going to bring it up. “Don’t get any ideas.” He laughs. “I chased you once Tate, I won’t do it again.” Inhaling a strong breath through my nose I breathe through the hurt constricting my chest. “Nobody asked you to then, and I’m not asking you to now.” I play it cool, looking over the pages of the sports magazine. Silence falls between us, the sound of a train in the distance howling out. Feeling the conversation has gone south, and I am tired of arguing for the night I stand. “I gotta go,” I state. Stepping over Camden’s leg I toss the magazine in the box. Trying to step back, my foot catches on the root of the tree and I trip. I fall right into Camden’s lap, causing him to fall on his back. “Watch where you’re going!” he snaps, trying to untangle himself. “Maybe if you’d move I wouldn’t have tripped!” Pushing my hands into the dirt my face comes within inches of his. I instantly notice his hard chest under mine and the way one of his knees sits right in-between my thighs. His warm skin against mine burns a fire right into my core. My nails dig into the dirt and I

swallow hard. His blue eyes search mine and for the first time since I’ve been back, I don’t sense anger from Camden. He palms my wrist, his eyes pinning me where I lay. I want to stay like this forever. I can’t find it in me to move even if I wanted to anyway. The train hollers out again as a light comes into view from down the track. Blinking myself from my sexual daze I push myself up, and Camden sits up. Camden clears his throat, and smooths my shirt down. Our eyes flick to one another, before darting anywhere but. The awkward tension settling back in. Stumbling on the fucking root again I make my way over the track into my backyard. My body is on fire, and the desire pulsing between my thighs is demanding to being tended to or a cold shower. Parting the tree branches I head back to the house, leaving Camden behind. I find Journey setting the table looking over the dinner she made proudly. “Still going to try for a family dinner?” I ask, gripping the back of a dining room chair and pulling it out to sit in. I want this family back together just as much as she does, but I think it’s going to take time. “Yes, I won’t give up that easily,” she replies, as she sets a fourth plate. “You set too many plates.” I jut my chin at the plate she just placed. “No I didn’t, there’s four.” She points at each one as she counts them. “Exactly, there’s three of us. How much pot have you been smoking?” She casually shrugs. “I invited someone else.” “Babe, you’re out of TP in the bathroom,” an unfamiliar voice sounds from behind me. Glancing over my shoulder I find the guy that was outside our house weeks ago, when Journey had a bloody nose. Scotty. He has on a blue ball cap that sits backwards. A black tank top and baggy dark jeans. Tattoos running up and down his arms. “You!” I seethe. I can’t believe she invited that tool for dinner! I thought she was getting tired of his games and was finally coming to light that he was a scumbag. “What the fuck’s your problem?” he sneers at me, his lip curled. My heart thunders in my chest from his stance, tone, and just his fucking presence. “You’re my problem!” Shoving off the chair I ball my fists and march toward him. All the confusion and anger rolling through me I’m more than ready to start a fight. The muscles in his shoulders tense, and he lifts his chin as I near. “Wait!” Journey jumps between us. Her hands outstretched like a referee. “Please, I brought him over to make peace. He’s not a bad guy Tate.” “He hit you, of course he’s a bad guy.” I laugh dishearteningly. “Yo, babe, you better do something about this disrespect,” he orders, pointing at me like a thug. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I take another step forward ready to jab this asshole in the face.

“What the hell is going on out here?” Dad steps out of his room. Dad’s eyes light up before contorting into anger when he sets sight on Scotty. “Why are you here?” “Journey said she was getting her family together for dinner, I told her I was her family.” He points at himself. “I should be here!” Scotty informs. I can’t help the look of surprise on my face. This guy is a one of a kind stupid. “You are not her family. Leave, or I’m calling the cops,” Dad threatens. Scotty turns, and cracks his knuckles in a threatening manner. “Oh, you think you’re going to call the cops old man?” Scotty steps toward Dad, and Journey jumps in front of him. “Stop!” He pushes her to the ground as if he’s swatting a fly. I fall to Journey’s side, helping her up. “Scotty wait!” Journey tries to run interference again but she’s too small compared to Scotty. Dad balls his fists as Scotty comes at him, but before he can react Scotty punches my dad right in the chest. “You motherfucker!” I scream frantically. Quickly I jump on Scotty’s back, and drive my fist into the side of his face repeatedly. The sores in my knuckles splitting painfully. “Stupid bitch!” He throws me from his shoulder, causing me to slam into the wall and fall next to Dad. My shoulder blade blooms with pain, spreading down my back. Dad makes a sound I’ve never heard before catching my attention from my own pain. He grips his left shoulder, his eyes wide with fear and pain. “Dad?” He pins me with wide eyes, as he clutches his chest. My heart sinks as fear takes root. He’s having a heart attack! “Journey, call an ambulance!” “Teaches you right, old man.” Scotty slides a plate off the table, it landing on the floor with a loud crack. Journey doesn’t move from her spot after calling 911 as she stares at Dad and sobs. “Dad, tell me what to do, what can I do?” I ask, my hands trembling with the amount of adrenaline racing through them. I shift on my knees, trying to get a better look at him. “Go…Get…That…Fucker,” Dad grits out with pain. “I’m not leaving you,” I reaffirm. “Go!” His eyes pin mine, and something familiar flashes through them. Something I haven’t seen in a long time. My dad is finally fighting back. He wants me to fight. “Go Tate! I will watch him until the ambulance gets here,” Journey offers. Swallowing hard, I nod and jump to my feet. “Don’t you leave his side!” I point at Journey. She slides to the floor, sitting right next to him.

Turning I run after Scotty. Nobody touches my family. I’m going to kill that asshole. Throwing the door open, I find him striding toward his car like he’s taking a stroll in the park. “Hey!” I step out onto the porch, my head lowered and eyes hooded with rage. I swear I can hear the latch to my cage unlocking, because a rush of adrenaline like I’ve never felt before pounds through my veins. It feels good, it’s a rush I crave. Scotty stops, and slowly turns. An arrogant smirk across his face. “Yeah?” He grins, and for the love of God I want to kick his teeth in. “That is the last time you hit anyone in my family.” Lowering my head, an evil smile crosses my face as I welcome the old Tate back. He balls his fists and cracks his neck. This is going to hurt, and I’m more than ready for the challenge.

Camden A commotion next door grabs my attention. There’s yelling and cursing, all coming from Tate’s house. Setting my dinner aside I peek through the curtains and find two people in Tate’s front yard. It’s so dark I can’t make out what is going on, but it doesn’t look good. Turning the porch light on, I step outside and the unmistakable sound of a fist connecting with bone being heard and a rush of energy surges through me. Moving quick off the porch steps, I head into the Davis’ yard, and my heart stops. A big motherfucker has Tate pinned to the ground, and is trying to secure her hands above her head. My eyes widen and mouth parts as I start that way, ready to end the life of whoever is on top of her. Her wrists being so tiny, she slips through and punches the guy in the face so hard he falters. Like a match igniting gasoline I sprint forward. The need to protect Tate my only thought, bad blood between us is history. Nobody touches her but me. He thrusts his fist right into Tate’s face, and she cries with pain as her head whips to the side. I grit my teeth, my fists curled so tight my knuckles turn white. Before he can deliver another hit, I tackle him off her. Rolling along the grass, tangled in arms and limbs, I find he’s bigger than I thought. He’s done this before, but he’s sloppy. A street fighter at best. I wrap my arm around his neck, and wrap my leg around his body, securing him to the ground. He grunts as I tighten my hold around his neck, limiting his oxygen. His attempt to escape weakens as he begins to lose consciousness, so I let go. He coughs out a sickly sound as he falls to his knees, rubbing his throat. Taking my training to a whole other level, from professional to personal, I strike him in the face with my foot, throwing him backwards. His teeth clatter, and blood sprays along my bare foot. He stays down this time, cupping his face in agony. My chest rises and falls as I pace the wet grass. I point at him, but before I can speak my threat, out of nowhere, Tate straddles the guy, her legs on

each side of his body, leaning down she punches him in the mouth. “Tate!” Grabbing onto her shoulders, I pull her off the groaning guy. She tries to fight my hold on her, desperately wanting to attack the asshole again. Shoving her back a few steps I yell, “Go!” and point toward her house. “I got this!” She stands tall, her face serious. I can’t lie, I’m getting a hard on at seeing her so undone. She’s furious, reminding me of a Tate I once knew. I warm as feelings I’ve tried to keep at bay coming forward at once. Not paying attention, a fist swings past my face from behind almost hitting Tate. Not getting the hint that he doesn’t mess with what’s mine. “You wanna fight like a man, but you’re about to lose like a bitch!” I seethe. Gritting my teeth I elbow check the fucker in the face, and he falls on his ass. My vision goes red, and my chest aches with a pain so fierce the only way to relieve it is to deliver it. Stepping over the guy, my legs straddle him. Pulling him up by his hair I force him to look me in the eyes. “Nobody touches what’s mine, do you hear me?” My voice comes out calm, but serious. “That hippie bitch ain’t worth all this anyway,” he mumbles, shaking his head as he comes around. “Good, leave and don’t come back. If you do, you will be rolling back to your homeboys in a wheelchair. Do you understand?” He smiles in response, before spitting blood in my face. My nostrils flare as I wipe the blood from my face with my free hand. Having been done with his bullshit, I head butt him and he conks out. My head pounds from the impact, causing me to blink a few times to catch my bearings. Sirens sound from up the block, catching my attention. “Camden go!” Looking behind me Tate is standing on the steps, a look of worry wrinkling her face. “Go, if they find you here you’ll be all over the news.” Her care isn’t lost on me. Maybe she really does feel like shit for what happened between us. I look down at the unconscious man, and he groans. He could come to and severely hurt Tate or someone else. “I don’t care, I’m not leaving.” I rub at my sore forehead, staring her in the eyes. So many unspoken things are said between our silent stare. I try to fight it, try to keep hold of the resentment toward her. “I care, Camden. Go, if anyone catches wind that you were here this will blow up and become twisted in so many ways,” she continues, and the anger I was trying to hang on to... vanishes. I clench my eyes shut, mentally cursing myself. Opening my eyes I glare at the guy who probably has a concussion. Maybe I shouldn’t stay. If I’m here when the cops show up this could be bad not only for me, but for Tate and her family. I have seen

articles get so twisted and far from the truth that it’s just not right. I can’t do that to Tate and her family. “Fine,” I whisper reluctantly. Getting some space from Tate is probably for the best anyhow. Stepping over the unconscious asshole, I race toward my house covered in blood and bruises.

Chapter Twelve

17 Years Old Tate “I don’t think this is a good idea Camden.” Biting my nails I eye the green T-bird. “Babe, how are you ever going to learn if you don’t try?” Camden opens the driver side door with a lazy grin spreading across his face. His blond hair is long and falling in his eyes effortlessly. Seriously, how did I get so lucky to land the ruggedly good-looking Camden Steel? Of course I don’t ask him that, his ego is big enough. I’ve had my permit for a while now, but with Mom’s death I just didn’t ever get around to getting my license. Camden has been up my ass about getting it. “What if I wreck it?” I worry. “Then you’ve added some character to it,” he laughs. Knowing I’m not going to get out of this, I slide behind the wheel. The seats are clothed and soft, and the steering wheel is worn from previous drivers. It took Camden years of saving to get a car. He’s worked at a mechanic shop learning how to fix cars, and has saved every paycheck. Turning the key in the ignition it starts with a clank. “Now, just pull out and drive around the block some,” Camden suggests, climbing to the passenger seat. Looking in the rearview mirror, I pull out slowly. The car bouncing when I hit the curb. “Shit!” I hiss. “It’s fine, I hit that curb all the time,” he lies, trying to make me feel better. Putting the car in drive, I slowly head down our street. “Turn left.” Camden points toward the main street. “You sure?” “You got this babe.” He grabs my thigh, giving it a squeeze. Butterflies fill my stomach having his palm on my bare skin. “You have to move your hand, I can’t concentrate.” He laughs arrogantly, and moves it. “Did any colleges write you back? I know you said your dad was having you fill some applications out.” Looking at him I grimace, not really wanting to talk about it. It’s a sore subject for everyone involved. “Yeah, I got a couple offers, Dad wants me to take the one in LA.” “LA?! You’ll be so far away Tate.” “I know, but it’s supposed to be the best school. Dad thinks if I’m going to have any chance at a normal college experience I should go there,” I explain, my focus completely off the road. My chest literally aches that I may be leaving, but I know it’s for my best interest. What hurts the most is that

Camden can’t come with me. He has so much going for him here that if he follows me, he’ll give it all up. A selfish part of me doesn’t care though and just wants him to be there with me the whole way. He’s more than my boyfriend, he’s my best friend. A horn honks, and I swerve trying to miss it, placing me on an off ramp. “Baby, turn around!” Camden’s voice is frantic, causing my heart to accelerate. “I can’t turn around!” “Pull over!” “I can’t, there’s nowhere to pull over!” My eyes fill with fearful tears as I look out my side mirrors. “Ok, ok, turn your turn signal on and get over easily,” Camden instructs, looking all around us. Flipping the turn signal on, I get over onto the highway, and a big truck blows it’s horn making me scream and let go of the wheel. My heart is beating so hard against my chest I feel like I may pass out. “Don’t let go of the wheel!” Camden grabs ahold of the wheel. Quickly, I grab it from him and jerk it, causing us to swerve off the highway and onto the grass. My chest is heaving in panic, tears streaming down my face. Camden is gripping the dashboard, his face pale as he stares at the windshield. “I don’t want to go,” I cry, as a tear slips across my mouth. The panic in my chest not really coming from the almost car wreck, but the wreck happening inside of me right now. The one I’ve been holding in. Camden looks my way, his face softening. “Dad is making me, said I need to get away from this town and make something of myself. It’s what Mom would have wanted.” Camden scoots over, and wraps his arms around me. “You don’t have to go Tate.” “I do, and he’s right, she would have wanted me to go.” I sob onto his shoulder, and my heart literally breaks right there on the side of the highway. He pulls back and searches my face. “How do you know that is what she would want, she’s gone.” I shake my head, and sniffle. “Mom set aside a savings for my education Dad said.” I shrug, and he wipes a tear slipping down my cheek. “Who knows maybe I’ll like it ya know?” I’m trying to convince myself, because I know I’ll hate it. “I’m going with you,” he whispers, and my eyes widen. “No, you can’t. You have your first fight coming up, and sponsors that you were told were sure to sign you. You can’t leave.” My voice rises, my hands grasping his harder than I expected. “Ok, ok, calm down,” he grabs my face, trying to calm me. I take a deep breath, locking my emotions up tight. This is going to hurt so bad. His brows furrow, as he pulls me close. I close my eyes, and inhale him in. Our time together is

literally ticking away.

Chapter Thirteen

Tate Sitting in the waiting room, Journey eyes me from across the room. “What?” I can’t help the venom dripping from my voice. I can’t believe she brought that punk to dinner. If she would have just listened to me the first time, and stayed away from Scotty, this would have never happened. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles under her breath. She looks down, her blonde hair shielding her face. Sitting forward, I rest my elbows on my knees. My anger dissolving instantly, I hate how she makes me feel like a jerk so easily. “Don’t be sorry, just… tell me you’re done with that prick,” I sigh. Her head jerks up. “Oh, I am so done,” she chokes with emotion. Her eyes filling with tears. Nodding I rub at my left eye, the one Scotty managed to hit, it hurts. “I’ve been hearing stories that you’re out of control, Journey. How many guys have you been with?” She crosses her arms, giving me a sideways glance. I feel like her mother, but if Dad isn’t going to dive into her personal life to sort out the crap, then that leaves me. “How long has it been going on for?” I continue. She shrugs, looking down at the floor. “Since before you left.” I hang my head in my hands. “I never should have left.” Journey scoffs, her feet coming into view as I look at the floor. She sits next to me, shoves my shoulder. “Stop. You and I both know you couldn’t have stayed even if you wanted to. Dad had it in his head that if you went to college that it would somehow make up for his lack of parenting while he was away at fights.” I sit up and eye her. I could have done more, but I didn’t. “Yeah, but when I left I didn’t look back, Journey. I should have tried to stay in your life more.” “You tried. You called, texted, you even sent money on occasion. It—it’s not you. It’s me, I just—” Her eyes gloss with unshed tears, and I wish I could take all of her hurt and confusion away this second. “You had nobody, and it’s like you’re trying to make up for that by seeking out attention from anyone that will show it to you.” I fill in the missing pieces, telling her exactly what is going on. No sugar coating it. She picks at her dress mindlessly and I know I nailed the problem.

“Yeah, maybe,” she mutters. “Have you thought about therapy?” It sucks, but it can help. I went on occasion at the college, it helped some, but only briefly. “Ha! That costs money. Believe me I’ve looked. Drugs on the street are cheaper.” And… I’m pretty sure Mom just rolled over in her grave. “You know Dad would help you get into therapy, he himself went for a while.” I remember Dad going for an hour a day the week Mom died. I swear it made him angrier though. She sits up, her eyebrows pinching forward so hard her face scrunches. “Tate, do you know how much debt Dad is in? All the doctor bills from Mom, and treatment facilities, and that funeral… he’s about to lose the house!” My stomach knots. “How do you know that?” “I was cleaning up while he was in the hospital and found all the past due bills stashed in a drawer.” “Jesus,” I mutter under my breath. “We can’t lose the house, it’s the only thing left we have to remind us of Mom.” When I was little Mom told me the story of how she got the house. Mom spotted it and knew it was the one, but it wasn’t even on the market. Dad found another house across town and right before Mom and Dad made an offer on the house across town, the one she wanted went for sale but was out of their budget. Mom sold her car, which she worked for everyday as a teenager, just to get the house. She said she knew it was the one to raise a family in. There were so many flaws, but her and Dad fixed them all over the years to make it our home. “Davis?” A doctor in a white coat calls from the double doors. Journey and I both jump up and head toward her. Her black hair is pulled into a messy bun, and she’s got wrinkles under eyes from lack of sleep. “Davis, that’s us,” I inform, reading her name tag. Dr. Angela. “Right, your father has suffered a mild heart attack, he seems to be fine but we want to keep him and run some tests. Also I will be prescribing him some nitro pills just in case this should happen again—” “Again, this will happen again?” Journey panics. “Well, unfortunately after they’ve had one, they’re more susceptible to having another. It’s just for precaution at this point, after we run more tests we should know what we’re dealing with a little bit more,” Dr. Angela informs us kindly. My head hangs, I can’t lose another parent. “Can we see him?” I ask, wanting to see him alive, my only comfort at this point. “Yes, go ahead.” She smiles, and makes her way to the nurse station. “Tate?” Turning, I find Camden. My body temperature instantly rises seeing him here. I can’t help but rake him from head to toe. His hair is wet from a fresh shower. He’s wearing a fitted blue shirt and dark jeans with a brown belt. You can’t even tell he’s been in a fight, unless you look at his

knuckles. They’re bruised with fresh cuts. “I saw them wheel your dad into the back of the ambulance. Is he okay?” His forehead wrinkles in worry and I realize he didn’t even know why I was fighting Scotty in the first place. “Go ahead, I’ll be right in,” I instruct Journey. Turning, I step closer to Camden so everyone in the waiting room doesn’t hear our business. “Yeah, he had a heart attack. Scotty punched him in the chest, and I just… lost it on him.” I close my eyes, replaying everything in a blink of an eye. “Good thing I didn’t know that, I’m not sure Scotty would be breathing right now,” Camden informs casually as he slips his hands into his jean pockets. My chest constricts as I fall in love with Camden all over again. His need to protect my family the most romantic thing ever. “Well, the doctor just said he’d be fine.” I breathe a sigh of relief. Camden reaches for my face, his fingers trailing under my left eye. His touch leaves behind a blazing trail of desire, and I hold my breath. “You’re going to have a black eye, you should put some ice on that.” His jaw ticks, as his eyes harden. He drops his hand and I finally breathe. The way just one touch from him affects me bewilders me. My body has never responded to anything or anyone like it does with Camden. “My first black eye, I guess I can say I’m well on my way to the pros, huh?” I try to make light of the situation, but my eye really does freaking hurt now that he points it out. Placing his hands in his pockets, he looks the other way. He’s not seeing the humor in it. “Hey, Dad wants to see you,” Journey grabs my attention from the double doors. Looking back at Camden I ask, “Do you want to see him?” He glances down at his feet. “No, you have your time with him I just… I just wanted to check on you.” He doesn’t make eye contact when he says it, but his words hit me in all the right places. I feel fuzzy, and can’t help but smile. “You wanted to check on me?” I ask, looking up under my lashes. He smirks, knowing what I’m getting at. “Yeah, I did.” My cheeks warm and my heart races. “Visiting hours end soon Tate, come on,” Journey whines from behind me. I want to stay and see what is going on in Camden’s mind, but I really want to see my dad. Feeling conflicted, I shuffle my feet awkwardly. “You go, I’ll catch you later,” Camden offers, ending my internal battle. Camden rubs at the back of his neck nervously and walks off. I exhale a long breath, watching him go. Even from the back he’s good looking. Striding down the hallway to Dad’s room, I can’t help but replay the way Camden told Scotty I was his.

The hope that we might be together again is trying to take root in my soul again. Maybe tonight was a turning point for us, maybe he forgives me. Opening the door, I find my dad is bossing nurses around. “I said I don’t need to be in here goddamn it! I can’t afford to be in here!” Dad rants, trying to pull wires from his chest. “Dad?” I knock on the door. He stills, dropping the wires on the bed. His eyes pop to mine, and his face lightens from its pinched state. The nurses reattach the wires to his chest that he obviously just yanked from himself, and Dad rolls his eyes at her. “Mr. Davis, you have to leave these on, please.” The redheaded nurse pleads for my dad to behave. “Dad, let her do her job,” I chuckle. “Journey, do you mind giving me and your sister a minute?” Dad asks. Looking over my shoulder I find her leaning against the door jamb. “I’ll just wait outside,” Journey informs, stepping out. Taking a seat in the vinyl chair next to Dad, he rubs at his head in deep thought. It smells like latex and lemon in here. “You okay? Do you need anything?” I question, trying to fill the awkward silence. “I’m fine, stop fussing over me. That kid is lucky I didn’t put a beating on him.” Dad shakes his head, referring to Scotty, before looking at me for reinforcement. “Oh, I know.” I smile, helping build his ego. Truth is, Dad is so out of shape now, I’m not sure he could have taken Scotty. It makes me feel sad, seeing how badly he’s let go of himself after I left. I knew he went downhill, but I didn’t know it was to this extent. “Look, I am not good at this kind of thing, so I’m just going to say it. I was wrong,” Dad blurts quickly. “Wrong?” What is he going on about? He pins me with sad eyes. “I blamed myself for your mother ’s death, and I took that out on you. I pushed you to go to school because you look just like her Tate, I couldn’t stand to look at ya kid.” Tears fall from his eyes, and so much emotion balls itself in my chest that I lose it and start crying too. “I know I took more than your will to fight, I took Camden from you. If he can’t forgive you for leaving and see that it was me that willed you to go to LA… then he’s a fool.” I still, not sure what to say to my dad. Scared if I say anything, he’ll retract his confession. “Tonight, when that guy hit me, you took care of your old man. I realized right then that you have my blood in you, you’re a fighter through and through. Trying to forbid that was pointless, you can’t take the fight out of a Davis. You made me proud kid.” I look away as it’s too much. I want to be angry, but I can’t. Mom’s death was hard on all of us. I changed. Everyone did. How could we not, she was the glue that kept us together and without her we

fell apart. A knock sounds at the door grabbing both of our attention. “Visiting hours are over,” a short man wearing pink scrubs interrupts. Standing, I wipe the tears from my cheeks, trying to gather myself. “Put some peas on that eye, it’ll help the swelling,” Dad instructs, as he fidgets with the gadgets on his chest, trying to pull them off. I can see it now, I’m going to get a phone call that he got up and left in the middle of the night. “Leave those on Dad, they need to monitor your heart,” my voice stern. “Oh, they don’t know shit about shit,” he grumbles, and I have to bite my inner cheek to keep from laughing. “I already lost one parent, let’s not make it two because you’re stubborn.” I raise a brow. Dropping his hands from pulling on the wires, he eyes me heavily. “You’re just like your damn momma, did I ever tell you that?” he asks, his lips curving into a smile. “No, but it’s something I’d love to hear more often.” *** Back at the house I head into my old bedroom. The idea of losing this place hurts. I grew up here and have so many memories of Mom here. Sighing I plop on my bed looking my room over. With everything that has happened I might stay here, keep a closer eye on Dad. Pulling my phone out I text Chloe to let her know. Hey, so Dad had a heart attack. -T What? I’ll leave work now, I’m coming over. -C He is fine and at the hospital for observation. -T You sure? -C It’s a long story, I’ll tell you about it later. I’m going to get my things and stay here though, keep an eye on things. -T Okay, I’ll try and come over tomorrow? -C Sounds good. -T Stepping into my room it looks just like I left it. My hands slide against the wall where the paint is faded from an old poster. Glancing around the room my eyes land on the window, Camden’s house is right next door. The way he said I was his won’t stop replaying through my mind over and over again. How he came to check on me, all causing butterflies to swarm in my stomach. Climbing off the bed I head to the window and push the curtains aside. I try to lift the window and it resists, getting caught in the tracks from not being used in years. Wiggling it from side to side, it finally rises and I

climb out. Walking past Camden’s door I head right for his window. When we were kids we used each other ’s windows instead of the front door. This way we didn’t have to stop and make idle chit chat with each other ’s parents. We could get to one another quicker. Reaching his window, it’s unlocked, so I push it up. Pulling myself onto the windowsill, the curtains brush against my face. Swiping them out of the way, I come face to face with Camden’s chiseled ass. It’s firm looking, and tanned to perfection. My body temperature rises as warmth spreads across my cheeks. A peep escapes my mouth as I ogle him. Suddenly he turns, giving me an eyeful of his cock. “Fuck!” he shouts surprised. He grabs his junk and I look the other way. “Shit, I’m so sorry.” I’m not. Looking out of the corner of my eye I watch as Camden grabs a pair of shorts from a cardboard box in the corner of the room. His long muscular legs slipping through them with ease. “Kicking someone’s ass not enough for one night, you want to break and enter?” he smarts. Pulling myself the rest of the way through, I roll my eyes. “I wasn’t breaking and entering, I was just…” I don’t know what I was doing. “I get it, old time’s sake?” Peering through my hair I glance up at him as he ties the strings on his jersey shorts. “I just wanted to say thank you,” I mutter, not sure what to say. I fidget with my hands nervously. His eyes fall to my chest and my insides squeeze. Looking down I realize climbing through the window caused my shirt to pull down, exposing the tops of my breasts. Quickly, I make right of my shirt, my aching nipples protesting the coverage. “Don’t say thank you, and stop acting like that.” His brows pinch together as he sits on the bed. “Like what?” “Like something you’re not. You’re not shy and sure as hell not some priss so stop acting like it,” he jabs. “Did they teach you how to be a complete fake in LA?” My mouth pops open as anger rushes over me. This went downhill quickly. “I could say the same about you, you’re so bitter and hateful. You’re not the Camden I remember. Was being so rich and famous that hard for you?” Ever since I laid eyes on him, he’s been hard and cold. Something’s happened since I’ve been away, I just don’t know what. It pains me to know I wasn’t here by his side when it happened either. He chuckles, looking away as his hands slide through his hair. His eyes slip over to mine and become hooded as they fall to my chest once again. “You’ve grown since I saw you last.” He changes the subject and my tits react on their own, my nipples hardening from the sudden attention. “Yeah, you have too.” My eyes fall to his crotch.

He stands and his jersey shorts are tented at the front. It does things to me, he unwinds my sense of control. I bite my lip thinking about untying his pants and letting them fall to his ankles. My breath catches in my throat as the dirty thoughts parade through my mind. It’s always been so easy around Camden. My attraction for him is so natural it’s unsettling sometimes. My body talks to his in a way I will never understand. Stepping toward me he lowers his head, his eyes gleaming with primal need. I don’t know how to react to the sudden attention and step backwards until my back presses against the wall. My eyes fluttering as my lips part from my labored breath caused by his nearness. Camden rests his hands right above my head, his face coming within inches of mine. His breath brushes against my lips seductively. Taking my gaze from his mouth I peer into his hooded ocean eyes. “I want you,” I whisper, the words coming out on their own, so natural. As if I never left him. I panic, my heart stammering in my chest in anticipation of his reply. His eyes widen as if he’s shocked to hear my admission. Quickly, he masks his surprise with an arrogant smirk. My stomach sinks knowing whatever he’s going to say next, I’m not going to like. “After a fight I’m usually in need for a good fucking, Tate. I have a phone full of fuck buddies, should I add your number?” Without a second thought, my hand collides with his face. Guilt for opening up to him rushes over me like a wave. That anger taking over my lustful state. He steps back, his cheeks hollowed out with anger. “I’m not some backup or second choice to your lonely evenings.” I fume. I thought we got somewhere tonight, I thought we finally made a connection. I sigh, pinning him with angry eyes. I was very wrong. He thumbs his chin as his eyes rake me from top to bottom. “There’s the Tate I know,” his voice laced with sarcasm and it pisses me off. My heart and mind done with these damn games I slap him again and it ignites something between us. His jaw ticks and in one quick move he grasps me under the thighs, picking me up and slamming my back against the wall. Out of instinct, I wrap my legs around his waist and my hands around his neck. Feeling him between my legs causes a rush of excitement to surge through me. God he smells good. I look down at him and he stares back with hooded eyes. His nose holds a more crooked angle than I remember, but it makes him look more distinguished. He gyrates his hips and the head of his dick rubs against my sex just right. I can’t help the parting of my mouth, and the wave of lust that flashes in my eyes. He smiles knowingly and does it again. My fingers dig into his strong shoulder blades as he does it again and again. The thin material of my pants and his shorts causes me to feel every ridge of his

cock. Pressure blooms in my lower half, as we both begin to pant. His fingers strangling my hips as he shifts me up and down along his jersey covered shaft grinding me into a pleasure I don’t want to ever fade. My nails dig into his bare shoulder blades. My body conflicted on what it should be feeling. Hurt, anger, or pleasure. Impulsively, I circle myself on top of him wanting so much more not caring what is going on in my head as what is going on between my legs is much more important. He continues to drive his cock against me, and my head bangs against the wall, my toes curling as the intense sensation of pleasure ripples up my legs and fires in-between my thighs. I clench my eyes shut, and try with all my might to keep my composure. Not wanting to come yet. Especially like this. He grunts, his hips jerking against mine and with the rugged sound vibrating within his chest, I moan loudly. Hearing him let go intensifies my release. He slows his thrusts, his fingers releasing my hips slowly. My head is sideways, my gaze locked on the window as his strong hold on me fades. My impulsive sexual need that ran so rampant just seconds ago fleeing, and reality setting in. We just dry humped like horny teenagers. Letting my feet hit the floor I brush my hair from my face and risk looking at him. His face is flushed, and his shorts have a wet stain on the front. Holy shit. He turns his head sideways, and rubs the back of his neck nervously. Still trying to catch my breath, I push myself off the wall and adjust my yoga pants. They’ve ridden up, and they too have some wetness on the crotch area. I’m not sure if it’s from him or me though. Wow, this is embarrassing. “I should go,” I mutter. This time instead of taking the window, I head for the door not needing anymore wardrobe malfunctions. Striding out of his room, the hallway and living room are littered with unpacked boxes. Stepping over them, I all but race out of his house. What just happened was so intense and hot, but I can’t help but feel like an idiot. I just dry humped Camden fucking Steel. He has tons of women at his side, experienced women, and I just humped his goddamn leg like a rabbit. Kill me now.

Chapter Fourteen

18 years old Camden Pulling Tate close, I breathe her in. She leaves tomorrow and it’s literally ripping me apart. I want to kill her father for making her do this. He’s sending her off to college. He is making her believe it’s what her mother wanted, but I know it’s because she looks just like her mom. Tate won’t let me come with her either. I caught the interest of a coach at my last match, and if I can deliver in the next fight he has set up, it could mean big things for me. Because of this, Tate is refusing I follow her to LA. She says it would be good for us, to develop individually, to find ourselves without depending on the other. But how can I do anything without her? We’ve been inseparable since we were kids. I won’t be able to do anything without seeing her face, hearing her laugh, or smelling her sweet perfume. I’d throw away my future to be with her, because none of it matters without her. She stirs in her sleep, and my hands tighten on her naked breast, pulling her closer. They fit my hands so well. I’ll never love anyone other than her. Our parents say we don’t know what love is, but I call bullshit. When all you do is think of the other person when they’re away, and think of how you could possibly be closer to them when they’re with you. What is that? Rolling over, I glance at the clock. 5:14am. Gently I pull my arm out from under her and climb off the bed. Heading over to my dresser I open it, finding the little blue box. I flip the lid, the moon hitting the white gold necklace of two boxing gloves perfectly and reflecting off the ceiling. I’m giving it to her tomorrow when she leaves. Thumbing the necklace, I close the lid and put it back in the drawer. “Camden?” she croaks half asleep. “I’m here.” Climbing back on the bed I pull her into me, and close my eyes. “I love you, Tatum Davis.” “I love you, Camden Steel.” *** Waking up, I roll over and grab for Tate. Needing to feel her, wanting to program having her in bed next to me to memory. My hand slides over an empty spot. Panic strikes my chest and I sit up straight. “Tate?”

The window is open, the curtain blowing with the wind. I throw the blanket off and nearly trip climbing out of the bed. Quickly I dart out of the room finding my dad at the breakfast table looking at me with distaste. “What the hell is your problem?” he growls. I ignore the red lipstick staining his collar from clothes he wore yesterday. It’s nothing new sadly, I’ve called him out on it many times. Soon enough Mom will have had enough and leave his ass. “Is Tate in here?” He shakes his head, his fingers rubbing his temples, indicating he’s had another night of binge drinking. I scoff at how pathetic he’s become and throw my hand at him dismissively. My feet stomp on the hardwood floor as I run out the front door, finding Tate’s car gone. Sprinting across the lawn, the wet grass sticking to my feet, I jump onto her stoop and open the front door without knocking. Her dad is reading the paper in his chair, his eyes looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Tate, where is she?” Lowering his paper, he shakes his head. “She’s left. Let her be Camden, this is best for the both of you.” Turning, I stumble outside, walking back to my room in a trance. She left, without saying goodbye. Why? Sitting on my bed I slide my phone off the dresser and call her. No answer. So I text her. Standing I pace, trying to calm myself, trying to find a pillar of hope and my phone alerts me of a text. Do what you’re meant to do Camden. I can’t be the one to hold you back. I will always love you. –T Using my finger I wipe at the single tear trying to fall, and try to text back, but it fails. She’s disconnected her phone. Like that, she’s gone. Grabbing the blue box from my dresser, I throw it across the room. A roar ripping up my throat so angry I taste blood. Fuck love. Fuck Tate.

Chapter Fifteen

Tate Walking into the gym, I find Camden sitting on the edge of the ring taping his hands in white tape. Butterflies swarm in my stomach as I try to sneak to the locker room without being seen. I’m still embarrassed about what went down between us last time we saw each other. Not being able to help myself, I risk a glance, and he looks up at the same time. Doing a double take, his eyes set on mine. My heart flutters, and I swallow hard. A flashback of last night flashes in my mind and my panties dampen from my sudden arousal. Quickly I avert my gaze and rush inside the locker room. I slam the door shut and press my back up against it. My head leaning back, I close my eyes. I shouldn’t have come in today. I should have waited a few days, or months. I bang my head against the door. This. Is. So. Embarrassing. The door is shoved open, and I move. Nervous Debs or someone is trying to come in and I’ve blocked it. It’s Camden. His blond hair falls around his face, and he’s not wearing a shirt again. His toned chest screaming for me to rake my nails down it. He turns, shutting the door behind him. I swallow as he just shut us both in. Alone. “What are you doing in here?” I mutter. He looks over his shoulder, hooded eyes making me hold my breath. He struts toward me, the smell of him filling the locker room. He doesn’t answer me as he corners me. Placing his hand on the wall behind me his face inches from mine he smirks. “Why are you hiding in here?” his voice echoes through the room. “I was just—” he lowers his head and my train of thought is gone. “Is it because you came on my leg?” he whispers in my ear, and my whole body blushes in embarrassment. My chest rises and falls quickly as my body whips up into a sexual storm willing this man to just plow me against a locker and hate fuck me already. “If I remember right, you came on me too,” I say softly. His smirks. “Who says I came? That was all you.” His lips form into a smirk as he searches my eyes for a reaction. My face pales, and my mouth parts in disbelief. That couldn’t have all been me. Could it? I want this wall to suck me in and eat me whole. Right now. He chuckles. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you for being so wet.” He leans down, his teeth nipping

my bottom lip. The sting of his sharp teeth penetrating right to my core. “Now get back out there and fight like shit. Like you normally do.” He winks and walks out. Raising my fingers I caress my bottom lip where his teeth nipped me. The skin tingles, warming in want for more. These games, I can’t make out if he’s mad at me or wants me. This cat and mouse game is fucking stupid…. Because I’m clearly the mouse, the one he has by the tail and is toying with. Taping my hands up I head into the gym, finding Debs standing in the ring chewing gum loudly. Her eyes find mine, she waves me on. Climbing into the ring, I look around curious what drill we are running today. “Today I want you to spar with Chase.” My eyes widen. “Chase?” My eyes sweep around the gym. I haven’t seen him since the night at the bar. “Is he even here?” “Yeah, just saw him head into the locker room. He’ll be thrilled getting into the ring.” She waggles her brows, but I’m hardly excited. There is something about Chase that hits me wrong. I rub at the back of my neck nervously, my eyes finding Camden lifting weights. I can’t think about his sexiness and stupid games right now. “Chase, get in the ring!” Debs points to the floor, demanding he get his ass in here. I swallow, jumping on the balls of my feet. I can’t back out, I’ll look weak. “What’s up?” Chase asks stepping into the ring. “I want you to spar with, Tate. Give her taste of what goes on in the ring, yeah?” Debs gives a crooked smile. Chase’s brows narrow as a devilish grin crosses his face. An unsettling chill runs up my spine. “No,” Camden barks from the side of the ring. I glance down, and find a fuming Camden pointing at Debs. “Excuse me, but this is my drill. Get back to your side of the gym towel boy.” “Fuck you. Don’t get in the ring with him, Tate.” Camden’s face is grave. “Pinky will spar with you.” My eyes flick between Debs and Camden. Curious what has Camden so spooked at me sparring with Chase. It’s just some harmless combos and grappling. Right? “Why don’t you want me to spar with Chase?” His nostrils flare, his chest rising. “Trust me, don’t do it.” “Come on, Tate. I’ll be gentle, baby,” Chase patronizes, pacing his side of the ring. My head whips in his direction, pissed he called me baby. “Don’t call me that.” I point at him. “Why, you’re acting like one. You want to be in a man’s gym but you want to act like a pussy.” He

shrugs. I grit my teeth as I lose my temper. “Don’t feed into it, Tate!” Camden bellows, knowing how easy it is to anger me. “You’re not ready,” he continues. Before I can reply a fist slams into my head, my vision doubling. Chase jumped the gun and started this intense sparring session before I could have a final say. Instantly my body goes into fight mode, and I swing back. My fist connects with Chase’s head. My adrenaline rushes through me so hard I lose my breath instantly. “Fucking stop it!” Camden’s voice echoes through the gym. “Leave it, Camden!” Debs instructs, backing out of the way. Chase does an inside kick, and I jump out of the way. I strike him in the head, and his face reddens with anger from the powerful hit. What does he expect? He’s taking this way too far. This isn’t sparring this is fighting. He rushes at me, knocking me to the floor. My head collides with the mat so hard my teeth clatter against each other. Chase tries to climb on top of me and I stop him short with a kick to the chest, throwing him back on his ass. “Fucking bitch!” he fumes. “Enough!” Thomas steps in between us, his hands out-stretched. I cough and roll over. My body aching from the harsh workout, I was not expecting that for sparring. Had I known it would have been so vigorous I would have put my mouth guard in. My hands on the ring floor, I push myself up, I come face to face with Camden. “Are you okay?” His brows pinch together in concern, and my heart beats faster. I swallow, tasting blood. “Not really.” I wipe at my mouth, trying to get the taste out. “What the fuck was that?” Camden questions Debs, his hands out stretched. “What? How was I supposed to know he’d take it that far?” Debs quips. “It’s fucking Chase!” Camden looks as if what happened was inevitable being in the ring with Chase. There is something wrong with Chase, he’s more violent than any typical fighter. “Tate, go home for the day,” Debs demands angry. I don’t argue. I need some Advil, my teeth are practically vibrating from the harsh impact they took. I feel the skin under my upper lip positive I bit it. Pulling my aching body from the ring, I head to the locker room. Hands on my hips, embarrassment and anger torpedo through me. I looked like a fucking chump out there. Why didn’t Debs listen to Camden? Why didn’t I? Pissed, I slam my fist into a locker.

Chapter Sixteen

Tate Sitting on the porch steps of my house I rub at my aching hands. Angry. What happened in the ring could have been avoided. If I had known Chase was going to act like that I would have been more alert, and could have had a better chance at standing my ground. My head falls in my hands and my phone beeps. I just fucked Jacki’s boyfriend. Miss you. –Keegan. I laugh, and give a thumbs up before tucking the phone back in my pocket. I needed that laugh. Camden’s car pulls into his drive, and he climbs out with ease. He’s like a smooth panther. Graceful, but strong. His eyes spot mine, and I look down. Pretending not to be watching him. I hate that he had to stop the fight today. Seems he’s always rescuing me. He walks onto my lawn, his gym bag thrown over one shoulder. “You okay?” he asks getting closer. Sucking in a breath I give a tight lipped smile. “Oh, today? Yeah, I’m fine. No big deal,” I play off, but my lip is definitely swollen. He raises a brow calling my bluff. “Debs is a shit trainer you know? You should probably find someone else.” He looks off into the distance, his blond hair blowing with the wind. I scoff. “I can’t afford another trainer, and Debs is free. The only reason I’m even with her is because you broke the bet between me and Thomas,” I remind him of his tantrum. “Maybe, but if Thomas didn’t want to train you he would have just wasted your time. I’ve seen him do it before,” Camden explains. “He does it to Chase.” I roll my eyes, picking at what is left of the stupid pink nail polish on my nails. Chase is an odd one, he’s cute but has a temper. I’ve heard him randomly cussing, and thumping on his chest like he thinks he’s God. It’s not attractive, and to be honest he’s kind of scary. Camden bites his lip as he looks down at me. His hand wringing the strap on his bag. “Let me train you,” he says it so quietly I barely hear him. My eyes flick to his, surely I heard him wrong. “What?” “You heard me, let me train you.” He drops his bag and sits next to me, his knee bumping into mine shoots sparks from the contact down to my toes.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I shake my head in protest, my toe tapping nervously on the step. “Why?” he shrugs. I laugh. “Because, it’s not.” There are so many reasons why it’s not a good idea. I’d never be able to focus in the ring with Camden. Besides, there’s a big enough fight between him and I out of the ring to last us a lifetime. “The way I see it is, your stubborn ass ain’t going anywhere anytime soon, and I can’t stand to see you doing everything wrong everyday in the gym.” He hits me with an arrogant look. Wrapping my arms around my legs I grumble, “I’m not doing everything wrong,” and huff. “You are,” he scoffs and I roll my eyes. This man is infuriating. Gritting my teeth, I look away. Silence falls between us as we look anywhere but at each other. I close my eyes, knowing damn well why I can’t have him train me. I’ll want more, much more. Having Camden touch me on a daily basis only on a professional level will drive my body to the edge of torture. To have him be so close to me and smell the sweat dripping from his hard chest and not be able to run my nails across it, will take more self-discipline than I have. “Think about it?” He stands, his clenched ass right in my line of sight. He leans down and grabs his bag, tossing it over his shoulder. He doesn’t even give me a chance to reply before walking off.

Camden I can’t believe I just asked to be her coach. What the fuck was I thinking? When Tate left years ago I built an internal wall, protecting myself from being hurt ever again. It’s worked well for me the last four years. The barrier was stronger than the Great Wall of China. But then Tate fucking Davis struts back in town and that wall falls, brick by brick until there is nothing but dust and my soul bare for her to rip from my chest all over again. Maybe that wall was never really strong to begin with, and maybe I wasn’t over her like I thought I was. Seeing her in the ring with Chase undid my sense of rationality. I didn’t care about what I wanted. All I care about is protecting her. Like old times. I swore if ever saw Tate again I’d make her hurt like she hurt me. It’s just hurting me watching me be an ass to her though. I guess that is one thing I didn’t inherit from my father. I can’t treat the woman I care about like shit. Pulling my shirt over my head my eyes sweep over the room for a new one. Something catches my eye from out the window, and I find Tate undressing. I do a double take, and watch her pull her shirt off. Her lime green and pink sports bra and tight stomach revealing themselves. Swallowing hard, I look down at the floor, knowing it’s wrong to watch her.

I look back not being able to resist the temptation, and find her pulling down her shorts. Her black panties not doing much to cover her toned ass. Fuck I miss her. I grab at my growing dick, it wants so bad to be reunited with Tate Davis too. Her eyes flick to mine and I freeze. My heart skipping a beat that she caught me. My chest constricts at the thought I’m a peeping fucking tom. Quickly I grab a shirt, any shirt from the floor and step away from the window.

Chapter Seventeen

Tate I run two miles before the sun even rises. The whole time my feet plow into the asphalt I think about Camden training me. We will be so close in the ring. His body next to mine, the smell of him lingering on me for hours afterwards. I close my eyes turning onto my block. My mind battling with the pros and cons, but the only thing I can solely focus on is I’m going to be with Camden in a ring. Like old times. He may not want to be with me, and that hurts on a whole other level. But this is the best move for my career. If anyone knows what it’s like in the ring… it’s Camden Steel. *** Stepping into the gym I find Camden by the ring taping his hands. It’s just us at his early hour. His eyes rake me up and down and butterflies swarm in my stomach. I know he was watching me undress yesterday. I can’t deny that I liked it. Though I wish I knew so I could have been a little sexier about it. My shirt got caught in my hair, and my shorts stuck to my sweaty thighs. My childhood feelings set aside, no woman could blame me for being head over heels for Camden. If they saw him, they’d be just as dick whipped as I am. Camden is ruggedly beautiful. He’s rough around the edges with a hint of pretty boy laced within the depths. His gorgeous blue eyes and sharp jaw hit you first. Then his thick blond hair and slightly crooked nose. And don’t get me started on his hands, they’re so manly you’d want to have him grab you under the thighs and manhandle you every day of the week. Heading to the locker room he reaches out and grabs my arm, stopping me. I look down at this hand. My breath picking up at the simple skin contact. “You give anymore thought to me training you?” he asks, dropping his hand. Instantly my skin cools, and I want the warmth of his hand back. Swallowing, I nod. “I have. What will Debs think if I have you train me?” He shrugs. “I don’t really care.” Popping my hip out I roll my eyes. Typical man. “Look, how about you let me teach you some things, and Debs can arrange the fights and shit. I don’t have those kind of contacts like she does, but I know more about being in the ring than her.” He

rests his arms on the side of the ring. His hair is slicked back today, showing his face off perfectly. “Why do you want to train me so bad?” He rubs the back of his neck in deep thought. “To be honest, I haven’t been very excited about training or fighting in a long time. Not until the thought of helping you in the ring came to mind.” He glances back at me and smiles but his eyes don’t shine like I’m used to seeing. They look darker. “It’s all I’ve thought about since- helping you that is.” He really doesn’t want to fight anymore does he? My heart skips a beat at the thought, and I want to ask him what happened while I was away. I know it’d be pushing it though. We just got on talking terms, and I don’t want to push him away. “Here I was thinking you just wanted to cum on my new yoga pants.” I tug on the fabric of my pants, trying to lighten the mood. His lips curve into a smirk as he pins me with passionate eyes, his look of torment fading. “That was all you that night.” My cheeks flush, and I look away. I just walked myself into that one didn’t I? I’m still not convinced he didn’t come too. “Alright, we’ll give you training me a shot.” I bite at my bottom lip nervously, my palms coating with sweat that this is really happening. *** I tape my hands up, and of course they look like crap compared to when someone else does it, but it’ll get the job done. I sit on the bench, nervous. Why am I nervous? I used to wrestle around with Camden all the time as kids. Rubbing my temples I know why I’m nervous. I won’t be able to focus on a word he’s saying, all I want is for his lips to take my breath away, or his hands to skim my breasts. For him to make me laugh, and for us to just be… us. I’d do anything to be the friend I once was with him. This is going to take all the willpower I have to be professional. After a short pep talk of keeping my focus on training and not on childhood crushes, or Camden’s immaculate chest, I leave the locker room. My heart is beating a mile a minute, the tune so loud it could be my walk out song before a fight. Entering the ring, Camden is sitting down stretching. The muscles in his back bulging and flexing as he strains them. I close my eyes, trying to get my shit together. “You stretch?” he asks. Popping my eyes open, I freeze. Crap, my mind was so busy I didn’t even think about stretching myself. “No, I forgot,” I reply as my cheeks blush. Rookie move, Tate. Rookie move. “First thing, always stretch. You don’t want to lose a fight based on you pulling a ligament,” he

schools. I mask a smile and nod, but I already know everything he’s telling me. Taking a steady breath, I sit down on the ring floor. “Touch your feet to mine,” he instructs. Following his instructions, I touch my bare feet to his. They’re much bigger, and surprisingly soft. I reach for my toes and he leans forward, grabbing my hands, stretching us out. The feel of his powerful hands gripping mine reminds me of how he picked me up so effortlessly and slammed me against the wall in his room. They’re so domineering, so capable of destruction, it’s hard not thinking about them all over you. “Does it feel good?” Camden’s voice vibrates through my body and my eyes flick to his. His hooded eyes convey he’s playing with me. I clear my throat and let go of his hands. Noticing mine are sweaty, I wipe them off on my shorts. “What is in store for me from the famous Camden Steel?” I joke, my heart beating like a thunderstorm. “Well for starters I want to see what moves you know, and see how well you can grapple. We need to work on that endurance of yours too,” he states. “I don’t know many moves. Just what I knew from when we were kids and of course the famous YouTube,” I confess, rolling my wrists to flex the muscles. “You stopped everything when you moved didn’t you?” His voice goes soft, and I hate the sympathy in his tone. “They didn’t offer much there,” I lie. They did, but what can I say, I sunk into a deep depression after I left here. Anything that reminded me of my life here in Chicago pressed me deeper in the sinking pit of darkness. He doesn’t press any further and I’m thankful. Standing up, he bounces on the heels of his feet. “Alright, show me what you got.” Getting into position I pull my fists up just like he taught me the other day. “Come on, princess,” he waves his hands, taunting me to come forward. I scowl at his insult. Princess, I’m hardly that. I jab, and he ducks quickly. “You missed,” he chuckles. Clearly he’s grown an ego since I saw him last. I take another swing and miss again. He turns on the balls of his feet placing him behind me. Wrapping a strong arm around my body, his chest presses into my back. The smell of Irish Spring soap overpowering my senses. “If you want me, you have to be faster,” he whispers into the shell of my ear. His breath hot and sticky against my skin. He nips at the lobe and lets me go, circling me like a shark. Shaking the lust from my head, I get back into stance. Focusing on the fight at hand. Angry that I am becoming so love struck so easily, I throw a quick kick, and it hits him in the chest harder than I intended it to. “Shit, sorry!” I cover my mouth scared I hit him too hard.

“Don’t say you’re sorry Tate. Ever. Not in the ring.” He looks at me angry. “Right, sorr—” I catch myself doing it again. Looking up I find Camden adjusting his shorts, not paying attention. Quickly I deliver an uppercut, hitting him in the chin. Lowering my fists I smile proud. “How’s that for too slow?” “Good, but you messed up.” He smirks. My face pales, I know I did that right. “How?” He jabs me in the cheek with this right hand, and my eyes widen with surprise. A slight sting blossoming across my face. “You left yourself open celebrating,” he chuckles, pissing me off. “You hit me!” He gives me a look conveying I’m being ridiculous. “It was a love tap. Shake it off and show me what you got,” he waves me on. I glower at him and charge him. Putting him into a Clench Hold. Wrapping my arms around his body, I hold him. Using his free arms, he wraps them around my head, grappling for control. “If you wanted to press your body against mine, you could have just asked,” his voice husky, it takes everything I have to not be turned on. His hand skims along my breast, and goosebumps race up my arms. My body swaying into him on its own accord. My eyes flick to his, wondering if he noticed. His eyes flash knowingly, and his hands skim down my back, grabbing my ass aggressively. I want to give into him so bad, but he could be testing me. My panties are fucking wet as hell, my heart beating with aggression and passion I have to close my eyes and push through the storm my body is battling. I give a one, two punch combo to his ribs and he lets go. “You hit like a girl, you know that,” he groans with pain. His discomfort is my drive to deliver more. I wrap my leg across his, and I take him to the ground. Quickly I climb on top of him. “Good. I hear they’re better fighters than men anyway,” I reply back. He chuckles, before surprising me and rolling us. Grabbing my arms he pins them above my head. His wild eyes search my face. My stomach fills with butterflies as he stares at me with such passion. Slowly he lowers his head, and my insides twist, desperately wanting him to close the gap and kiss me senseless. “You gotta be kidding me,” a disappointed voice quips from outside the ring. Quickly Camden jumps off me, and I crawl to my feet.

Debs and Thomas are both standing by the ropes, their faces not pleased. “How stupid can you be boy?” Thomas scolds and I can’t help but take offense. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Camden tilts his head to the side, his shoulders tensing with aggression. “You can’t keep your mind in the game if you’re thinking about pussy, that’s what. We talked about this, no attachments,” Thomas voices and I blanche from his statement. “This goes for you too Tate,” Debs tries to act hard, but she fails. She just doesn’t have it in her voice like Thomas does. “It’s none of your business Thomas, and it sure as hell ain’t yours,” he points at Debs. “What are you doing in the ring with her anyway?” Debs asks and I tense. I wonder if she’ll be pissed I’m training with him. Shit, maybe I should have checked with her first. “I’m going to help train her,” Camden states matter of factly. “Excuse me?” Her eyes bug out. “I took her on when nobody else wanted her, now that you all see she has some talent under that skin and bones you think you can cut in and take my future paycheck?” “Nice,” sarcasm drips from my voice. “Don’t act like I’m a monster Tate, none of you are anything but a paycheck.” Debs puts her hands on her hips, eyeing me like I’m clueless. “I thought I could help train, because you suck as a trainer Debs. In fact if it weren’t for Thomas screwing you, you’d be out of a job, I’m sure.” Camden doesn’t hold back, he clearly doesn’t care if he upsets her. I can’t say that I do either at this point. “You’re an asshole! You’re a washed up has been. You know that!” Debs jabs her index finger in the air with every syllable. My fists clench and Camden’s body goes rigid. “Hey now! Everyone shut up!” Thomas demands, but Camden doesn’t back down. “This is how it’s going to be Debs. You have the contacts, how I have no fucking clue but you do, so you can set up fights and what have you. As for getting paid, you can keep your paycheck too, me training Tate isn’t about money,” Camden informs, glancing sideways at me. I can’t help the fuzzy feelings running through my body at his statement and look down. They all go quiet, the silence making me shift on my feet. “Like a team, I can do that,” Thomas breaks the silence. “Alright, fine, less work for me,” Debs huffs, throwing her hands up in defeat. She really is a piece of work. “I don’t want to see any more of that lovey shit, Camden. You got it?” Thomas points at Camden, then me. My cheeks blush, knowing he saw us. “Got it.” Camden pushes the words through gritted teeth, clearly not amused they walked in on such a private moment. I agree, one more second and I would have been lip locked with him. After

four years, our lips would have finally been reunited, and everything in the world would have been lost in the background. Turning around, Camden smacks his hands together and says, “Let’s keep going. I saw you do a rear naked choke that day you were in the ring, but you messed it up.” “No I didn’t?” I protest with furrowed brows. I have been doing that move since I was a kid. “You did, try it on me.” Stepping up behind him, he lowers himself so I can reach. I wrap my right arm around his neck as my hand rests right behind his head. Using my left elbow I place it on his left shoulder, my hand sitting on his head. I squeeze his neck with my arm and he reaches up, tearing my arm free. “See, I shouldn’t be able to do that so easy,” he points out. “Okay, so what did I do wrong?” “You wore panties. You shouldn’t wear any panties.” I freeze, narrowing my brows. He’s fucking with me. “Do the move again, only tuck your left hand behind my head to where it’s touching your shoulder instead of sitting on my head, and then push your head against mine. This way it locks your hands in to where I can’t pull them down.” I do as he instructed, and when he tries to pull my arms, it’s unsuccessful. “See. It works. But if you don’t wear panties that would distract me too.” He winks and my thighs clench wanting so much to grant his wish. For the next two hours he teaches me how to do a few basic moves. How to duck and weave, and keep my foot work more firm and not so loose. Of course they are all laced with suggestive comments that has me ready to explode. Camden Steel is like a snake in the ring. Quick and unpredictable. I, on the other hand, am about to pass out from lack of oxygen. I really have to get my endurance up. Sitting down to take a break, he hands me a bottle of cold water. “You’re a natural Tate.” He sits down next me. I look down, not good with compliments. “I don’t know about that,” I chuckle, looking at the plastic bottle. “Sometimes I think I should just stick with boxing instead of attempting MMA.” He shakes his head in disagreement, taking a sip of his sports drink. The way his lips curve around it makes mine pout, wanting to be on the receiving end. Fuck Thomas and Debs. “Stop looking at me like that.” He doesn’t even look at me; he can just feel me looking at him. Quickly I look down and bite my lip to keep from blushing. “It takes a lot to premeditate your next move, to be able to use your whole body like you do. You need to use it.” The door rings as a tall slender woman walks in. She has dark short hair and is tanned an amazing

brown. She has an off the shoulder shirt exposing her skin and has on some very revealing shorts. “I think she might be lost,” I tilt the bottle of water in her direction. Her eyes gaze over the gym before landing on us, shining with recognition at Camden. She beams with a cheesy smile and sashays toward us. “Camden baby!” she coos and my stomach drops. I eye Camden, curious if he’s going to introduce me. Is this his girlfriend? “Tate, why don’t you go clean up?” Camden suggests standing up. My chest fumes with anger. Is he fucking serious? I can’t keep my mouth from parting in disbelief. Not giving me a chance to cuss him out he walks toward her. Pursing my lips in anger, my mind runs with violent thoughts as I get up and walk to the other side of the ring. But I don’t leave. I’m curious who this woman is and if Camden won’t tell me... I’ll find out for myself. They whisper to each other to where I can’t hear a word that is being said, and she touches his face in an alluring matter. I can literally feel my nostrils flare with jealousy. They are intimately close, that’s for sure. The hair on my arms stands straight as I watch her flirt with him. She’s really pretty. Her makeup is done flawlessly, her legs long and model worthy. I can’t help the urge to grab her by the hair and smash her pretty little face into the side of the ring. I turn away from them, the mirror throwing my reflection back at me. My hair is in a messy bun. I have no makeup on and I’m covered in sweat. I hate that I don’t feel comfortable in dresses, that I can’t wear makeup and feel flawless. I never feel insecure, but I do now. Closing my eyes, I look away from the mirror and back at the horror show happening before me. The woman’s eyes furrow with an unreadable look and she walks away, her arm outstretched like she just can’t let him go. I want to strike her in the face bad. Most importantly, I want to break Camden’s jaw for toying with my heart. “Who was that?” I can’t help the anger dripping from the question. “Nobody,” Camden replies turning toward me. “It’s about time to go, you want to hit the showers?” “No, I don’t,” I quip, my eyebrows rising. “Okay… let’s practice a few moves I taught you,” he suggests, getting in form. I can’t believe this; he’s just going to act like his girlfriend didn’t just walk in here. This is where slutty kitty and I differ. I won’t be a Camden Steel play toy. No matter how much I want to be with him again. He gets into stance and I take a jab at him, my fist making a whoosh sound from the amount of

anger behind it. The power in my strike doesn’t go unnoticed as his eyes flash with a look of concern. “Easy,” he warns. I scoff. I jab, this time hitting him in the gut. He lowers his fists, ready to scold me and I do a basic leg take down throwing him to the ground with a thud. “What the hell Tate?” He glares at me pissed. He takes control, slipping from my hold and maneuvering on top of me with ease. His body straddling mine. “Sorry, if you wanted it easy you should have asked your girlfriend to get in the ring with you!” My head rises off the floor, getting right in his face. “That is what this is about?” He looks amused, and it makes me angry. Using my hips I buck them, trying to throw him off. Sweat trickles down my back from the amount of rage pouring through me. “Fuck you!” I spit with frustration. He sits up, resting his hands on his knees. He opens his mouth to speak, and I grab his arm by the wrist, locking my left leg around his left shoulder, and squeezing his shoulder with my right leg. “Damn it, Tate, don’t do it.” He knows I’m about to do an arm bar. He doesn’t try to stop me though, he’s testing me. Seeing if I’ll obey. I’ve never fully done one before, so hopefully I don’t screw this up. I don’t listen, I flip my right leg next to my left, his arm positioned between the two, and lift my hips. The movement straining his arm to the point it feels like it will pull from its socket. He groans and taps my thigh. He tapped out. Being one to follow code, I release him. Reluctantly. Quickly he recovers, climbing on top of me. He slams his hands down next to my head, his nostrils flaring. “Goddamnit!” His face inches from mine as he glares at me with frustration. He fists me by the hair, bringing my face inches from his. “You want to be a fucking brat?” “Screw you! You’re such an asshole!” I struggle in his hold. His wild eyes stare daggers into mine, his grip tightening on my hair. I can’t believe he thinks I would be okay with this. The suggestive comments, the flirting, I’m not a toy! My lips curl, nostrils flaring, I slap him in the face and his head whips to the side. Slowly he brings his eyes to mine, and his hand in my hair tightens into a whole other level. I wince and my body comes alive. His chest rises as his eyes flash with desire. You want to know why I didn’t fuck some surfer on a surfboard back in LA? Camden and I speak a language in the bedroom that nobody else would understand. I like it rough, and Camden takes as well as he delivers. Nobody could replace what we have. I would have been torturing myself trying to find a second

best. Without a second thought he slams his mouth against mine hard. The impact bruising my lips. Finally the buildup and tension breaks from the skin contact, and I moan into his lips. His tongue flicks my top lip, wanting me to open up and I part my mouth. His tongue eagerly sweeps in, tasting me. The fruity taste of red Gatorade fills my mouth, and I kiss him harder. My lungs burn with the need to breathe, but I don’t pull back. I’ve waited so long for this, a kiss I never thought would happen again. His teeth suddenly clamp down on my bottom lip, and I whimper. Opening my eyes I find Camden staring back at me with primal desires. “I won’t be the girl you cheat with, or the girl on the side,” I whisper. My heart aches to say it, and my head screams at me to shut up and look the other way. His tongue sweeps his bottom lip as he looks at at me deeply. “Those fuck buddies on my phone, and that girl that just walked in here… they’re Band-Aids. When I couldn’t get you out of my mind with whiskey and Coke, I went to women. Hoping having someone to lay next to would help forget you.” He thumbs my bottom lip, the heat from his hand traveling through my body from the contact. Hearing he had it just as rough as I did when everything fell at our feet makes me want to weep. I lay in bed for days hoping to fall asleep before I fell apart. “None of it worked though, because they’re not you,” he whispers.

Camden Her fuckable lips scream for me to devour them again. One hand in her hair and one on the nape of her neck I’m ready to rip her clothes off and see the beauty of her bare body before me. Looking inbetween us I stare at her tits, I have a thing for tits. Gritting my teeth I pull her top down, her breasts bouncing out. Leaning down I nip at the red bud, and her body arches into mine. Hate and sexual tension race through my veins, as my heart longs for her. I both hate and love her. How the hell is that possible? My cock presses into my jockstrap painfully, and I can’t for the life of me wait another second to be inside of Tate. Letting go of her nipple, I trail my nose up the curve of her body until my lips reach her earlobe. “Get on your fucking knees,” I seethe. Not giving her a chance to respond, I shove her onto all fours, and I position myself right behind her. An unintelligible squeak leaves her lips and it’s my undoing. Using both of my hands I hook my fingers into the waistband of her pants and slip them off her delectable ass harshly. Purple panties greet me, the rounds of her ass peeking out. Letting her shorts flutter to her knees I slide my hands up

her smooth thighs. Growling I fist the panties in one hand the material bunching in the crack of her ass like a thong. All these females I’ve slept with over the years are little girls compared to Tate. None of them can deliver what I need, an urge Tate ignited in me when I was sixteen years old, a passion that only Tate can fulfill. If only she knew she was as rare as her love. “Spread your legs for me,” I demand huskily. She does as I say, and parts her knees further apart. I pull on the fabric of her panties, and it slips in-between her pussy lips. “I’m going to hate fuck you, Tate,” I warn her. Taking my eyes off her body I look at her, finding heavy eyes looking back. She doesn’t tell me to stop, she doesn’t even look concerned. It fuels my desire to drive my dick into her without remorse. Using my other hand I fist her ponytail and jerk as hard as I can, gritting my teeth. “One thing about MMA fighters,” I pant. “We don’t do anything soft, do we?” Tate The hairs on my head snap, and the pain rushes down my back targeting right between my legs. He tugs on my panties again, the fabric rubbing against my clit just right I can’t help but hiss through my teeth it feels so good. I’m so wet and ready my body is vibrating with the arousal. His grip on my hair so strong my neck strains backward until my eyes lock on his. I watch as he unties his shorts, letting them pool around his feet, his hold on my hair still strong. The white cup to protect himself is busting at the seams as his length presses against it. Pulling on the straps he tugs it down, and his massive length stands at attention. It had to have grown at least two inches since I last saw it. He pulls my panties to the side instead of pulling them down, and thrusts a single thick finger through my wetness. The head of his cock presses against my opening and I tense, preparing for the fucking of my life. On a quick inhale his cock barrels through my opening with force. His size stretches me, a burning sensation mixed with pleasure swirling into one confused moan erupting through me. He fills me fully before pulling out and thrusting forward so hard I face plant into the mat. The games, the buildup, and pure tension have led to this. It won’t be delicate, and it won’t be sensual. This is a reunion of two lovers who are ending a long lasting fight the only way they know how. Rough sex. His fingers dig into my ass cheeks as he uses them to push and pull me into his thrusts. My ass fits into his hips perfectly. The gym filled with nothing but the sound of our sweaty bodies smacking into each other and our heavy panting. Pulling myself onto my knees, I reach above me with both hands, one hand pulling his hair, the other scratching any skin my nails can make contact with. He pulls back slowly and pushes forward with long deliberate strokes. My insides clench him

fiercely. My arms shake, my knees tremble, and I moan as an orgasm rips through me so hard I can barely hear the growl tearing from Camden’s mouth as he comes with me. We still, trying to catch our breath. Looking over my shoulder Camden slips out of me with ease and droplets of him drip down my thigh. Reaching behind me I situate my panties back to where they belong, and pull my pants up over my behind. Looking at Camden he’s dressing too, his mouth parted sexily as he eyes me with hooded eyes. “You know, I went to LA looking for you.” My eyes cut to his, my breath hitching in my throat. “What?” He stands tall, his hands on his hips as he breathes heavily. “Yeah, when I got there and saw you sitting in class… I knew then that you deserved much more than I could ever give you.” Guilt washes over me and I avert my eyes. I could tell him the same thing I’ve already told him, that I left and didn’t reply back to his texts because I didn’t want to drag him down, but no matter the way you look at it… I left him behind. “I’m really sorry Camden,” I whisper. Looking at me his eyes darken with something unfamiliar before he looks away. “Every day I tortured myself, wondering who you were with and if you were doing things that I taught you with other men.” He gives me a sideways glance, his lips pursed. Camden always led the way when we were younger, telling me where to position my hips, and how to move my body. He swore it was because he watched a lot of porn, but either way, he knew what he was doing in the sheets. We both like it rough, and Camden delivered the most kinky of things. I know he’s been with other women, and I’m sure his skillset has only improved. Jealously rears its ugly head, making me grit my teeth and turn away. “Like you haven’t been with other women?” My vision spots with acts of jealousy. “Not like I do with you.” I swallow hard, knowing exactly what he means. Camden and I are different kind of breed. We find satisfaction in pain both in the bedroom, and the ring. He strides to me; his steps confident as he grips me by the chin with a force that has me suck in a tight breath. “I’m not saying I forgive you, but it’ll be a cold day in hell before I let you leave me again.” I blink rapidly, and he kisses me hard. His tongue fucks my mouth in a similar rhythm his hips were mimicking earlier. Closing my eyes I take it all in. The hard grip on the back of my neck, his nose smashed against mine. It’s angry and possessive. Pulling away from me abruptly, I sway on my feet trying to catch my balance. The way Camden kisses me is a realm of ecstasy that turns me on for another round in the ring with him. He grabs the sports drink off the floor, and the light hits him just right to where a sliver of

something catches my eye. “What is that?” I question, reaching for his hips I turn him and find a large scar right across his hip. “Where did you get that?” It looks like it was a major cut. He jerks out of my hold, his face masked with anger. “Nothing.” “What do you mean nothing?” I try to grab him to look at it again and he pulls from my grip. Retreating my hand, I become clammy knowing something really bad happened to him. “I said it’s nothing, now drop it!” he barks, and I blink in surprise. Noticing my unease he exhales a breath in attempt to calm himself. “I don’t want to talk about it, so just leave it alone Tatum.” He climbs out of the ring, and heads toward the showers. My chest weighs heavy, my fingers tapping on my bottom lip in thought. What happened to him? Does that scar have something to do with why he doesn’t fight anymore? Does it have something to do with that dark shadows that lurk in the depth of his eyes? Could I have done anything to prevent it if I hadn’t left?

Chapter Eighteen

20 Years Old Camden Sitting in the locker room I hear the announcers call my name. The girls cheering and screaming for me to come out. Wrapping my knuckles in red tape, Thomas barrels through the door. He’s been on edge for days, and it’s starting to become contagious. I can feel the panic starting to spread through my chest. We’ve done this a dozen times, and each time we get a better fight for next time, but Thomas has it in his head that this fight might be the one to get me into the MFC. “Kid, this is it. You take this guy down, you’ll make the big leagues. There’s big wigs in the crowd like you wouldn’t believe!” his voice wavers with excitement. My lips curl into a smirk at his demeanor. “You do this every fight, Thomas. Calm down will you, it’s just like any other match.” His eyes widen, as he stops my wrapping. “No, this is the real deal. Potential sponsors, endorsements, people waiting to sign you and make you the next big thing.” My heart skips a beat, the idea that this might actually be it setting in. I exhale, breathing through the pressure. “What makes you think they’re looking at me? There’s a lot of fights tonight.” I was approached by the UFFL to fight Revy Bendoza here in LA and Thomas has been giddy since then. Thomas said it would be perfect because of the location, I agreed to come because I was looking for Tate. Even after two years, I can’t seem to let her go. Her dad won’t tell me anything besides ‘let her go’. Looking down my hands I flex them. This fight will be for her. If I win, I have to let her go. If I lose, I know it’s because I can’t go forward without her. “Tell me kid, tell me you are focused and you’ll make the house come down tonight.” Swallowing hard, I peer up at him. My blond hair falling in my eyes. “I’ll win.” “Lets get a warm welcome for the one everyone is dying to see tonight. He’s from Chicago. He’s undefeated. The one the girls purposely wore their good panties for. The one, the only, Camden Steel!” The song “Determined” by Mudvayne is playing loudly as I enter the arena.

Slamming my fists together, I jump on the heels of my feet, my hands raised in the air as the crowd goes nuts. Hands outstretched from the crowd trying to grab at me. Thomas meets me at the cage and shoves my mouth guard in. “Remember kid, big time.” He slaps my shoulder, and I nod. Standing with my arms outstretched an issued UFFL sanctioned man comes and applies Vaseline to my eyes, cheeks, and nose. It helps the punches roll off easily, keeping blood from pouring into my eyes and stopping a fight prematurely. After the Vaseline is applied, my hands, ears, and body are checked for any illegal substances or weapons. Given the approval, I slap my fists together and run into the ring and jogging around the octagon to get my blood pumping. The announcer raves about Revy, and I continue to stretch and prepare myself. Entering the ring, I eye Revy Bendoza. He’s a few inches taller than me. His hair shaved off leaving dark shadows casting along his head, matching his dark thick eyebrows. “You ready pussy boy?” he slurs around his mouth guard. I don’t respond. Thomas told me to keep it sportsmanlike. Revy is known for his antics inside the ring, getting his opponents bent out of shape and out of focus. “You ready?” The referee points at me, and I nod. “You ready?” He glances at Revy, who jumps on his feet, not replying. “Let’s get it on!” The referee jumps out of the way and instantly my face takes a right hook from Revy. My ears ringing. He goes for a left hook and I duck jabbing him in the ribs. Side stepping me he’s out of reach. My eyes catch a blonde female in the crowd. At first glance she looks like Tate, but it’s not her. Pain slices through my eyebrow, bringing me back from the female to the fight. I have to let her go. Closing my eyes I take in the pain. Not just from the fight, but the one inside my chest. I’m going to have to let the girl next door go. Opening my eyes, blood sticks to my lashes. I give a quick inside sweep kick, and it takes him to his knees. Quickly, I jump on him and he falls on his back. I strike him in the face, over and over and over. Rocking him while blood spits across my gloves. A roar erupts from my throat; one I felt I’ve been holding for years. Maybe it’s the anger I’ve harbored since Tate left, maybe it’s because my family fell apart after she left and I had nobody. Either way, it feels incredible to let loose. Hands grab at my shoulders, and I come to. “He’s tapped out, you won!” The referee indicates. Looking down, Revy’s face is a bloody mess

and rolling side to side as he groans. Thomas jumps in the ring, a cheesy smile on his face. “You did it! You actually fucking did it!” “Winner by knock out, Camden Steel!” The crowd is literally going insane, it’s so loud I can barely hear the announcer. It hasn’t hit me that I’ve won yet. Everything is happening so fast. Quickly I’m ushered out of the cage, the walk back filled with panties, roses, and bright colored bras. Finally inside the locker room, Thomas helps take my mouth guard out and attends to my eyebrow where Revy got me. “You killed it. I haven’t seen you fight like that ever. I’m not sure where you pulled that out of, but keep doing it.” Panting, I just listen. A knock sounds at the door. “Not now!” Thomas hollers. The door creaks open and a woman in a black tailored business suit steps in, two big men right behind her. “Camden Steel?” The lady addresses me, her tone sophisticated. “Yes?” I arch a brow. “I’m Silvia Machen, I’m with the Mad Fighting Champions.” She holds her hand out, and Thomas tenses, his face ghostly white. “That was some fight out there.” She looks me up and down as if she’s not complimenting my fighting skills, but rather my physique. “Thank you.” “How would you like to fight for us?”

Chapter Nineteen

Tate Journey is bringing Dad home today. Between her and I we put our money together so I could pick up some groceries for the house. The doctor said his cholesterol is through the roof, and is probably due to bad eating habits. I already lost one parent, I’m seeing to it that this one stays around for a bit longer. Looking through Dad’s fridge, there was nothing but soda and TV dinners. The cabinets weren’t any better, they were packed with chips and jerky. I had to throw most everything away. Chloe came shopping with me, wanting to catch up on things. I know she’s going to ask about Camden, that’s why I’ve been avoiding her. It’s complicated. “He likes sandwiches doesn’t he?” Chloe asks, holding up deli meat and lettuce. I shrug. “I’m not sure, he used to.” She gives a ‘whatever ’ look and tosses them in the cart. “I think as long as you stay away from deep fried stuff, and things loaded in fat and sugar, you’ll be helping him,” she informs. “The doctor said grape juice is really good too,” I purse my lips together in thought as I survey the juices. Their colorful labels, and glistening plastic bottles making my mouth water. “That shit is gross, I can’t see this going over well.” She crosses her arms, looking the cocktails of fruit over. I sigh, knowing this is going to be a battle. “He doesn’t have a choice if he wants to stay out of the hospital,” I inform. She grabs a jug of purple grape juice and places it in the cart. “So, how is training going?” Opening my mouth my tongue slides along my bottom lip as I think about what I’m going to say. “It’s… it’s going.” My voice wavers, and Chloe smiles like the devil knowing I’m not telling her something. “How is Camden? I know you’re seeing him,” she states matter of fact. My face turns red, my fingers running along the hem of my shorts. “How would you know that?” She laughs grabbing a pack of cookies, and tossing them in. “I saw you sneaking into his room the other night when I got home with Ma,” Chloe laughs arrogantly. My face drops, and my eyes dart anywhere to avoid looking at her. “Yeah, I knew you’d try and hide it bitch.” She purses her lips, eyes raised not pleased. I raise a brow. “It’s complicated,” I try to explain but really there is no better explanation than

‘complicated’. I shake my head, taking the cookies she put in the grocery cart back on the shelf. “I get it. I can’t say I’m surprised though. You two were inseparable as kids, I knew eventually you two would stop being stubborn and succumb to each other ’s advances.” I smirk, shifting on my feet. “If you say so.” *** Setting the table I hear Journey’s car pull in the drive. Wiping my hands on my yoga pants I head to the door to help them. “You drive like an insane person Journey, who taught you to drive?” Dad criticizes, climbing out of the car. Journey rolls her eyes, pulling her long brown purse over her shoulder. “You did,” she laughs shutting the car door. “Hey guys, you showed up just in time. I made dinner,” I inform from the patio steps. It only cost me one burnt thumb and me nearly cutting my index finger off, but alas, I made dinner. Dad grumbles, stepping past me into the house. “He’s on a roll,” Journey warns walking past. “Great,” I mumble under my breath. I thought Dad and I connected the other night, hopefully he wasn’t too high on drugs and actually meant what he said. Just as I head back inside the familiar sound of a car catches my attention. The purr of a rugged motor echoing through the neighborhood. Camden. I watch as he pulls into his drive and gets out. Crossing my arms, I step further out onto the patio to watch him. My knees go weak when I think about how he hate fucked me yesterday. It was raw, real, and felt amazing. He pulls two shopping bags out of the passenger side, the environmental safe kind, and just as he turns around his eyes land on me. My heart skips a beat, and I suck in a tight breath. The intensity his eyes hold when they meet mine takes the wind from my lungs every time. I’ll never get used to it. “Hey,” he juts his chin out in that guy way they do. “Hey yourself.” Smiling he walks toward me. He looks cute with his green shopping bags, domestic even. Stalks of celery and broccoli peeking from the top, along with a loaf of bread. I tug on a stalk of broccoli and say, “Look at you being all healthy,” I tease. He adjusts the strap of one of the bags, glancing off into the distance. “What can I say, once you start eating healthy, it becomes addicting.”

Crossing my arms, I huff. “Guess I’ll find out here soon enough. Dad is ordered to start eating healthier, so I cleared out all his TV dinners and soda. Stocked it with vegetables, and fruits.” Camden gives a sour look. “He’s going to be pissed.” I laugh, kicking at the ground. He knows how stubborn and stuck in his ways my dad can be. “For sure.” “Just be stern with him. If he thinks he can push you over, he will,” Camden advises. I peer up under my lashes at him, his want to help endearing. A hard gust of wind blows, the rustling of leaves the only thing to be heard as silence thickens the tension between us. “Look, I’m sorry about the other day. I feel like shit for snapping at you. It’s just… there’s things I don’t want to talk about and that’s one of them.” His face goes hard, his tone cold. My eyes fall to his stomach where I saw the scar. “Why can’t you tell me?” He tugs on the strap of his bags again, averting his eyes. “I just can’t.” Biting my cheek I nod. It hurts to think he can’t trust me. We used to tell each other everything. “You want to come over for dinner?” he asks. His face is scrunched in that cute way as if he’s scared to ask me over for dinner, like I might object. My heart melts that he wants to cook for me. It’s every girl’s dream to have a guy they like make dinner for them. Maybe I am over thinking him not telling me about the scar. Maybe it’s something stupid that happened in the ring and he’s legally not allowed to talk about it. “I appreciate the offer, but I already cooked dinner for everyone tonight,” I inform kindly. “Maybe another time?” he mutters under his breath, looking down at his feet. My heart sinks with the objection and I rethink my statement. Maybe I can eat with my family, and eat again. “Damnit Journey!” Dad hollers from inside. Both Camden and I look back at the house. “I better get going,” I whisper, still looking at the house. “Sounds like it,” he chuckles. “Where the hell are my Twinkies!” Dad barks from inside the house. The sound of a slamming cabinet, loud and angry. He’s irate. Turning, I sprint inside the house to find my dad rifling through drawers, and Journey sitting on a counter with a frustrated look on her face. “They’re gone,” I inform, unwrapping the salmon I cooked. I inhale a sharp breath, waiting for this fight to escalate. “What do you mean they’re gone? And what is that damn smell?” His eyes cutting to the cooking pan in front of me.

“Dinner. Go sit down, I’ll bring you some.” I lick my finger, the taste of lemon and salt teasing my taste buds. He huffs disgusted. “I’m not eating that shit.” He turns and opens the fridge. He tenses and I can watch as his face blooms two shades of red in mere seconds. “Tatum…where are my dinners?” his voice is eerily calm, as he gives me a terrifying sideways glance. “The doctor says those are bad for you, that you need to eat cleaner, and get out and exercise. So, this is us heading in the right direction,” I explain, pointing to the cooked fish. “That quack doesn’t know what’s good for me. This is horse shit, I have my way of doing things and that’s that!” He slams the fridge, his shoulders rising and falling with anger. Frustrated I stop unwrapping the fish and turn to face my dad who is throwing a damn tantrum. “Do you like that doctor?” I cross my arms, my brows narrowing. “No, I don’t like that doctor. What kind of question is that?” he smarts. “Then sit your ass down at the table, and eat this dinner. Otherwise, you’ll be seeing her a lot more. They’ll know you on a first name basis you’ll be in there so much.” I point to his spot at the table. “Now sit the hell down!” Journey’s eyes grow wide as they ping pong back and forth between Dad and me. Waiting for us to start throwing things and taking the simple argument to true Davis form. Dad eyes me as he steps toward the table and jerks his chair out. Plopping down in his seat, I hide my surprise with a curt nod and bring the pan of salmon out to the dining table. “What is this?” He pokes at his plate like a ten year old. “Salmon, fresh asparagus, a wheat roll, and grape juice,” I inform looking over my own plate. I have to admit, I’m proud of myself. In college, you don’t get the opportunity to cook like this. I missed being in a real kitchen, cooking real food. I did it all the time with Mom as kid. “Looks good, sis,” Journey praises, sitting down next to me. She’s moved back here, and is already starting to seem better mentally. I haven’t seen any guys lingering around her anyways. “You’re going to kill me with this healthy shit.” Dad stabs at his food, and I can’t help but smile. We’re all sitting here in the spots we used to sit at when Mom made dinner. I can’t remember the last time we all sat at the table together. My chest pings with a sense of sadness thinking about how long it’s been. Chewing my fish, my eyes glance at the empty seat at the end of the table. It’s different without Mom, but it feels good to be a family again. Even if we’re broken, we’re trying, and that has to stand for something.

Camden

This morning Thomas and Debs beat me to the gym and are in their office with the blinds closed. Normally I’d think they were screwing, but I hear them talking. Their tones are serious, but I can’t make out what’s being said. Grabbing some bungee cord, I tie it to one corner of the ring, and then secure it to the other side. Getting the ring ready to run drills with Tate. “You screw her yet?” Chase slaps my back, climbing into the ring. “Excuse me?” I stand upright, eyeing Chase with a deadly stare. I crack my knuckles, letting him know just how far I’m willing to go if he doesn’t choose his next words carefully. “I’m just messing with ya. You’ve just had your head up that girl’s ass here lately I can’t help but give you a hard time,” he laughs, tugging at the bungee cords. “Keep talking and see if you don’t get your ass kicked this morning.” I lift my chin, my face warming with anger. “Like to see you try,” he stretches casually, his cocky demeanor irritating. I wish coach would send his ass packing, or let me spar him. “I heard coach getting on you for getting too rough sparring yesterday.” Chase’s eyes smile, he’s clearly happy with himself. “Yeah, well maybe if he got me a fucking fight already I wouldn’t be so pent up with energy.” He raises a brow like it’s everyone else’s fault. “I heard you broke Pinky’s wrist, how is that?” I stop what I’m doing and grimace at him. “And don’t get me started on the shit you pulled with Tate.” I point at him. Widening my stance in a threatening manner. He shrugs, obviously not feeling the slightest bit of guilt for hurting Pinky. I curl my fists, as heat radiates off my body. Not only is Pinky harmless, he was my sparring buddy. He didn’t deserve what happened to him. What if he did that to Tate? The thought causes an act of rage to pulse in my neck. Closing my eyes, I exhale a calming breath. “You need to walk away,” I breathe out. Chase laughs maliciously. Opening my eyes I find him walking backwards with a smug look on his face. “I guess they learned not to get in the ring with a real fighter then, huh?” He tilts his head to the side, his tone indicating that he is a real fighter and I’m not. I grit my teeth, my heart pounding against my chest with the need to hurt this motherfucker. “I better hit the locker room and suit up.” Chase pushes off the ropes, heading out of the ring. “I got a day full of ass to kick, and a night full of pussy to chase.”

“What’s this?” Tate asks, looking up from the floor side. I must have missed her come in, too busy with Chase. I pull on the bungee to test it, my fury slowly fading. “Today we’re working on bobbing and weaving.” Her face looks skeptical. I could say something about giving head, but I opt out. This time. “Isn’t that more boxing?” She places her hand on her hip overlooking my setup. She’s so bent on not boxing when in reality it’s her strong suit. She’s good at a lot of things in the ring, but boxing is in her blood. I wish she would accept it. “Eight out of ten of the fights I was in start out with boxing techniques. If you’re injured in the first round because you can’t duck a few punches, it could cost you the entire fight,” I school her. It’s the truth. I myself almost lost a fight because I needed to be lighter on my feet. Her eyes widen with this information. “So what will this teach me?” she points to the rope. “It’ll build the muscle in your calves as you hunch down, and after you’ve done it enough it’ll be second nature to you. You’ll be quick on your feet, and smooth in your technique.” She climbs into the ring, and steps up to the cord. “Go for it, let’s see what I have to work with.” She licks her bottom lip, and positions her left shoulder to the cord. Taking a quick breath, she ducks and pops up on the side of the cord, before ducking and popping up on the other side. She’s slow, and she’s not letting the rope touch her shoulder before she drops again. “Arms up, block yourself!” I instruct. She places her arms up, her eyes focused on the other side of the ring. After reaching the end, she turns smiling. “How’d I do?” “Terrible,” I deadpan, stepping to her. Her face falls flat, her eyes looking over the ring in thought. I’m not going to sugar coat her weakness, her opponent won’t. They’ll use it against her and that’ll be on me for not training her hard enough. Stepping behind her I grip her hips, and pull her into me. My dick jumps with excitement, images of having her bent over in this very spot make my balls tingle. I close my eyes, trying to exercise my self-discipline. Work first, fuck later. Skimming my lips along the shell of her ear, I get her attention. That or my boner sticking her in the ass cheek did the trick. “Be light as a feather, but punctual in your execution,” I whisper. Goosebumps race along her neck, and I dig my fingers tighter into her skin. Her sweet smell and soft skin are testing my restraint. I don’t know how much longer I can coach

her when all I want to do is be naked with her. “Like this.” Taking her by the hips, I tug and pull on her, making her glide along the rope with ease, but with strength. Ducking with me and weaving, our bodies moving in sync just as smoothly as they did when they were flushed against each other in a naked embrace. “Jab every time the rope hits your shoulder.” I instruct, trying to get my head in the game. The one on my shoulders that is, the one down below has been game since Tate climbed in the damn ring. She strikes the air, her body tight, and moves clean. We reach the other side of the ring and I breathe her in one last time and pull away. “How was that?” she asks, her tongue licking her bottom lip hungrily. “Better, but your foot work is a bit sloppy,” I point out. “Well, it’s hard for me to concentrate when you’re poking me in the back with your hard-on the whole time.” Her eyes fall to my boner and I wink. “Try it by yourself this time,” I point to the rope. Her face of humor quickly falls, and she gets herself back into training. She’s a quick learner, and watching her love for the sport makes me fall even more for her. “It’s great timing too, she’s going to be ecstatic!” Debs cheers stepping out of Thomas’s office, breaking me from my thoughts. “What are you going on about?” I question. I turn, resting my arms on the ropes as Tate steps up beside me. Debs crosses her arms, and smiles arrogantly. “Oh nothing. I just got Tate her first fight is all,” Debs announces casually. “What?!” Tate’s voice echoes through the gym in excitement, and my chest seizes the fucking air from my lungs. It’s too soon. “It’s a pretty big one too,” Thomas adds, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. The look on his face has me uneasy. “Oh yeah, with who?” I ask. “It’s in Colorado against Kiki ‘Queen Kong’ Terron, in the UFFL.” Her smile widens, touching her eyes. “The check is going to be amazing, Tate!” Debs informs. “Kiki? She’s been in the game for a bit, and has been offered contracts from all over. You think Tate is ready for that?” My heart thuds in my chest like an over protective parent. How the hell did Debs score this kind of fight for Tate when nobody even knows who the hell she is? “I’m not sure I’m ready for all that,” Tate states timidly, looking at me for confidence. “Well, that’s where you come in Camden. If he does his job right, I think you’re more than capable, Tate. This fight could be big for you if you win. So many people will be there to see Kiki, but if you win, their eyes will turn to you.” Rubbing the back of my neck I watch the devil in front of me gleam with joy.

Debs doesn’t care about Tate, she cares about money. Which makes me wonder why she even agreed to work with Tate when she isn’t getting paid by the hour. “How did you book the fight?” I ask skeptically. The United Front Fighting League is big stuff. A lot of the fighters that are in the UFFL go on to the MFC after that. “Kiki was set to fight Momma Mateia. They had a sold out arena, and TV subscribers ready to buy the fight. However Mateia backed out last minute, and I worked my magic in getting our girl for the back up.” She smiles proudly, but my stomach sinks wondering what she actually did to get Tate this fight. “So why would they want me? I don’t understand, I’m nobody,” Tate laughs nervously. She’s wrong, she isn’t a nobody, once they see what she has, and she’ll rise to the top fast. She just needs her shot to shine. “Because, they think you’ll be an easy win,” I inform. I hate to be so direct, but it’s the truth. Tate’s eyes flash as if she’s accepting the challenge. Of course she is, she’s Tate. She never backs down, even if she should. “Do you think you can train me in time? Do you think I’ll be ready?” Tate asks, her voice hopeful. This is all she’s ever wanted, and if Tate puts her heart into it… I think she could win. But if she loses, her career will be over before it started. “When is the fight?” I ask. “In a week and a half,” Debs informs. I nearly choke on my breath. “That’s too soon!” My brows raise with surprise. No wonder Debs got the fight, nobody in their right mind would take it. “I can do this Camden. I want to prove them wrong, let them underestimate me,” she whispers, her tone of confidence strong. I clench my eyes shut. In reality we shouldn’t take this fight, but since when do fighters do anything rationally. Besides, I want to see the look on Tate’s face when she wins, and I was the one that got her there. “We’ll give it a shot, but if I don’t think you’re ready, then we’re out,” I give in. Her cheeks turn pink, as her eyes smile. “Go clean up, and we’ll pull up some tapes of Kiki, see what she specializes in.” She nods, wiping her brow of sweat before leaving the ring. My eyes flick to Thomas, nervous of what offers they’re accepting for Tate behind my back. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” I arch a brow at Thomas. “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of me,” Debs spits, throwing her hair over her shoulder like a prima donna. Stepping down from the ring, I pop my neck, my nails digging into my palms. “I want you to run any and all fights through me first before you book anything for Tate. Do you understand?” I ask, my voice sharp and demanding.

“Not happening, you said it yourself. You’re training, and I’m making the deals. I know the people, and I know what will make her rich... Not you,” Debs sneers and I want to rip her fucking head off. This isn’t about getting paid, it’s about respect. Stepping into her space, I lower my face and glower at her. I know she’s chomping at the bit to get Tate in the most dangerous, profitable fight there is. The Underground. The CEO of The MFC has an underground ring, a secret society, if you will. Only certain people know about it, and they’re those of extreme wealth. Mafia, congress, celebrities. The fights aren’t like the ones on TV, they have no rules inside the ring, and are often set on unfair advantages. They place bets on who they think will win, and if it’s not entertaining enough they up the stakes and things get bloody. Thomas knows about it, so I’m sure he’s told Debs about it. “The deal I know you’re dying getting a shot at, the answer is no,” I inform curtly. She opens and closes her mouth like a fish out of water, her eyes darting to Thomas to interfere with my stare down. “Alright, easy kid,” Thomas slides his arm in-between us, and I jerk it away. “No, there is no discussion on this. She’s not to go in that underground ring.” I bark. Once you go in, you don’t come out the same person. No matter the history between Tate and I, I’d never let her in that ring. “Not that I know what you’re talking about but if I did, you have no say so in this, Camden.” The number one rule of The Underground, we don’t talk about The Underground. Yet here I am, defying the rules. I’d put it all at risk to keep Tate out of that cage. “I’m telling you, if you so much as—” “Enough, both of you!” Thomas seethes, pushing us apart. Debs nostrils flare as she looks me down. My fists clenched ready to throw her into a chokehold. Thomas shoves Debs away, and shakes his head disapprovingly at me. “Don’t look at me like that. You of all people know this is not a good idea,” my tone sharp. My nostrils flaring with irritation. “Yeah I know, at least she’s fighting. Which is more than I can say for you.” He gives me a sideways glance, and I can’t help but laugh internally. The prick, I swear to God him and Debs are one in the same. Money, it’s the root of all evil. “Yeah, well she also hasn’t been put into a cage and demanded to act like an animal. Which is exactly why I don’t want her to go into The Underground.” I pull myself into the ring, declaring this conversation over. “You’re holding her back!” Thomas hollers. “No, I’m keeping her alive.” Both spiritually and physically. ***

Shadow boxing myself to release some of this aggression, Pinky steps up to the mat, his hand wrapped up like a taco. He’s not wearing any gear, showing off his brown gelled hair. “Hey, I heard the news about Tate,” he smiles a dopey grin. I eye his hand, my chest constricting with the urge to climb out of this ring and beat Chase within in inch of his life. Huffing, I climb down and grab the towel off his shoulder. “Your hand going to be okay?” I ask concerned. He shrugs, looking away. “It’s a risk being in the ring with you guys. I know that.” If only he knew how much of a sadistic asshole Chase was, he wouldn’t be so accepting. “Don’t spar with that pussy again, Pinky.” I can’t control the authority in my tone as I demand him to stay away from Chase. “Why?” He looks at me with wide eyes. I inhale a breath, wondering myself why I’m getting in the middle of this. Maybe it’s because Pinky is so young and really needs someone to look out for him. “Just, listen to me, yeah? Chase ain’t right in the head, he’s dangerous,” I continue. “Alright,” he mutters. “You excited for the big fight Tate landed?” he changes the subject. Wiping my forehead of the beaded sweat I say, “I’m not sure Tate knows what she’s getting herself into.” “So… show her.” He shrugs. “What do you mean?” I’m doing my best showing her what to expect inside the ring. “Take her to a fight. There’s a MFC one in South Dakota tomorrow night.” My eyes widen at the information. Biting my cheek I think about it. My thoughts scattering as excitement takes place at taking Tate to her very first fight. It would be a good idea to let her see firsthand what it’s like inside the octagon. Tickets won’t be cheap, but that is why I have Kaley. She’ll find the best, or possibly find them free. “That’s a good idea. Thanks for looking out,” I praise, and give him a fist bump. I grab my phone off the side of the ring and text Kaley. Hey, I need something from you. -C Need me to give you another alibi? Get rid of a woman? -K I frown. The way she puts it like that I sound like an asshole. No, I need two tickets to tomorrow night’s fight in South Dakota. -C Three dots pop up, then stop, then start back up again. Finally, actual work! And a public appearance. Is this a prank? It’s not funny. -K My fingers freeze in reply. Shit, cameras will be everywhere. Just get them. -C Placing the phone back on the ring, I head toward the women’s locker room. It’s really more like

a storage closet, but Tate hasn’t complained. Stepping inside I find Tate wiping her sweaty chest with a towel. I could be a gentleman and turn away, but who said I was a gentleman to begin with? “Hey,” I announce my presence. She smiles, continuing to wipe herself down. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to come into a women’s locker room?” She peers under her thick lashes, and that sultry look goes right to my dick. “Really? So if I threw you up against those lockers right now, you’d still want me to leave?” I bite at my lip, my eyebrow raised. Her cheeks stain a cute pink, and it takes everything I have not to do just that. Stepping up to her, I brush a hair behind her ear. “Breathe,” I whisper, and her body sags with an exhale. Goddamn I love how much I affect her. She turns, and opens her locker. “Hold that ego of yours down. I was holding my breath because you smell.” She turns with a smug smirk on her face, and tosses me some deodorant. I laugh, and toss it back at her. “I think you might need this more than me,” I wink. She catches it and shrugs before applying it vigorously. This is what I love about her, she’s one of the guys. She’s not in here gossiping, or fussing over her hair. She’s being… her. Grabbing her shoulders I start to massage them, and she instantly molds into my hands. Her neck rolling as she moans. Her skin is sticky, and the heat rolling off of her makes me want to devour every inch of her with my tongue. “There’s this thing tomorrow night I want to take you to—” “What kind of thing?” She glances over her shoulder. “A surprise thing. I want to take you to it.” Her shoulders tense, and she steps forward. “You mean a date?” My eyes widen, and my palms sweat with the question. When we were kids we went on two dates. One was a Tuesday night Taco night and we went with some friends. Kind of like a double date… it went horribly wrong. Everyone was snickering behind Tate’s back because she didn’t dress to their liking for date night. I still remember the way she looked as if it were yesterday. She was beautiful in her short jean shorts, dark blue tank top, and that yellow sports bra. She had dark bruises on her knees, and the way her faced glowed from the summer heat had me staring at her all night. She was natural, down to earth, and took my breath away. The other time was prom night. She dressed up because her mother forced her to. She was gorgeous as hell in that black poofy dress, but man did she hate it. As soon as we got home she

stepped out of it and kicked it into the bottom of her closet. Then I fucked her against the wall in nothing but those black heels. Just thinking about it has my swelling cock pressing into her lower back. “I mean—” I rub at my chin, thinking it over. I want her to see what she is getting herself into, but more importantly I want to see the excitement on her face when I surprise her. “I guess it’s a date.” She sashays toward me, her teeth biting her bottom lip. Fuck I want to bite that lip. Raising my hand I thumb her lip from her teeth. “Go on a date with me, Tate,” I demand, rather than ask. When you ask a woman to go on a date with you, you’re giving her the option to say no. I’m not giving Tate that option. Her lips purse, trying to hide the smile behind them. She wants to say yes, but she’s making me work for it. Reaching out, I grab her by the shirt and pull her toward me. Kissing her neck, her hands cup my face as I lick and suck the sweat from her skin. My hands sliding along her hips possessively. My fingers catching on her pants, and I anxiously tug them down over the globes of her ass cheeks. My fingers dig into her ass rapaciously, as an excited growl rips through my chest. Her mouth lazily parts, as she kisses the outline of my jaw softly. “Say yes,” I breathe heavily. She stills, before turning in my hold. “What kind of a date?” Her eyebrows furrow before releasing. “I want to take you somewhere tomorrow night, it’s a surprise.” Reaching for her hand, I pull her against me. Her sweaty boobs flush with my chest. Fuck I want to bang her against the lockers. “Tell me where, and I’ll decide,” she whispers, running her hands through my hair. The way her fingernails scrape against my scalp perfectly I can’t help the shiver running down my spine. “Just say yes, it will make this easier.” Her hands fall to her sides as she presses her lips into a firm line. Her eyes pretending to study the floor so she doesn’t have to look me in the eyes. She never was one to like the whole going on a date thing. She would much rather sit at home in comfortable clothes, feet kicked up on a coffee table while watching eighties movies. She’ll have to get over that though, because this is happening. I know she’ll love it too. I hope she does anyway. “Kidnapping you and putting you in the trunk of my car may take away the romantic appeal I’m going for, so stop being… you for a moment and just accept that this is happening.” I give her the best smile I can muster, hoping she’ll succumb to my charm She grabs me by the hair, her controlling demeanor a turn on, and tugs my head back to meet her beautiful green eyes. “Fine, but I’m not wearing a dress,” she informs seriously. I smirk, my chest burning from trying not to laugh.

“I’m more than fine with you naked.” She pulls my hair hard, before letting go. “You know what I mean, I’m not dressing up,” she clarifies. Smacking her ass I stand from the bench. “Wear whatever you want, you know I find you sexy in anything.”

Chapter Twenty

21 Years Old Camden Thomas wraps my hands as I mentally prepare for the fight. I have no idea whom I’m fighting. Everything about this seems off. “I don’t know if I want to do this Thomas.” He stalls, glancing at me with dazed eyes. “It’s just cold feet.” Brushing my confession off, he refocuses on my hands. “Something seems off, this underground shit is too shady.” I swallow hard, replaying all the paperwork I had to sign. “You are being paid over five hundred thousand for just being here Camden. If you win, it’s a million dollars and a contract for the MFC. Opportunities don’t just present themselves like this. Do you know what you can do with that kind of money son? I jerk my hand from him. “I know how much I’m being paid.” A slight knock sounds at the door before it’s pushed open and Silvia Machen walks in. Her black hair shining among the cheap lights. “How is our number one fighter feeling?” She smiles, but it’s fake. There’s something about this woman that is toxic. “He’s ready,” Thomas answers for me. “Great, I just want to make sure we go over everything one last time, to assure there are no issues once you’re in the cage.” She crosses her arms, and sticks her hip out. “I know the rules—” Well, what rules they do have. “Great, so you know you are not to talk about The Underground octagon to anyone?” “Yes,” I huff, flexing my left hand that Thomas just taped. “I signed the NDR, we’ve been through this.” “You didn’t talk to anyone or suggested its presence to anyone before tonight?” “In the paperwork, it didn’t say what would happen if I did speak a word about the fight. What happens?” She gives me an unreadable look, as if I’m brave to even ask. “If you must know, you’re dealing with the some of the top profiles in the country Mr. Steele. The people bidding here tonight rather enjoy their entertainment in The Underground and will not take threats lightly. If their entertainment is at risk of someone breaking the only rule we have, they may… shall we say… do what comes natural to them.” “You mean kill?”

“Oh I’m sure they’re much more creative than that.” A sly smile crosses her face, as mine pales. “Don’t break the rules, and you’ll be fine.” Rubbing the back of my neck, I inhale a sharp breath. “Got it.” Glancing up through my blonde hair I eye her. “Who am I fighting?” She smiles so big wrinkles form around her eyes. “You’ll see… and good luck Mr. Steel, and remember; all is fair in fighting and surviving.” I sit there, taking in those words. Their meaning, and suddenly think… I’m in way over my head. My walkout song plays as smoke and fog drifts around the arena so thick I can’t see in front of me. The ground underneath my feet is moist, the concrete chipped and uneven. There’s people yelling from the crowd, but I can’t see their faces from the lights and steam. Glancing up there’s tinted boxes, no doubt holding some of the highest bidders. Entering the octagon, a man in jersey shorts and a white fitted t-shirt slaps my back. “Good luck.” His voice is deep and strong. He pushes my lower back, ushering me into the octagon. I’m not checked for anything illegal, and no Vaseline is applied to my face. Stepping inside, I glance around, my heart racing like I’ve just done a line of drugs. I’ve been in many cages before, but for some reason… this one feels different. The white floor is smeared with blood stains, a lot of blood. The metallic smell making my stomach twist. The cage is rusted and chipped, the bleachers are dark to where I can’t see anyone. The crowd starts going crazy in excitement again, the sound of an unfamiliar song playing. I glance around trying to see where my opponent may be coming from, but I can’t see anything from the lights and fog. I bounce on the balls of my feet, trying to clear the nerves. You got this. You can do this. The cage opens, and in steps Bret. Bret from school. He moved our freshman year in high school, and I haven’t seen him since. “Bret?” My heart stops, my eyes widening. His eyes find mine and widen in surprise. “You’re fighting now?” My brows pinch together in question. He jumps on his feet, smacking his gloves together. “Yeah, about a year now!” his voice rises to be heard above the chaos. I relax some. Knowing they didn’t just pick him off at his house and throw him into an unmarked van before tossing him in a cage. With the things I’ve seen tonight, that wouldn’t surprise me. “Are you ready for a fight that will leave you at the edge of your seat?” The announcer speaks into the intercom, and the crowd goes crazy. “A fight among friends, a fight that will test the limits of

right and wrong!” They roar, but I’m hardly in any excitement. They planned this fight, they knew Bret and I knew each other and put us against each other to make profit. I exhale, rolling my shoulders. They never said making it to the top would be easy. I can do this. “Let’s give a big round of applause to Camden Steel and Bret ‘Neanderthal’ Hollis!” The announcer yells, the speaker whistling from the overbearing noise. The big man outside the cage slams the side of the metal cage, making me jump. “Move it boys.” Making the first move, I jump forward and strike him in the face. His head jerks back, blood pouring from his nose. Putting my hands up to block myself I wait for him to return the hit, but he just circles me. Maybe he’s trying to wear me out. I lay a combo into him. Punching him in the stomach before giving him an upper cut to the chin. He falls back on his ass, his face swollen from my hits. He said he’s trained for a year, but he acts like he’s trained only a week. Climbing on top of him I pull his head to my chest, wrapping my legs around his back. “You said you’ve been fighting for a year?” I right hook him in the ribs, and finally he returns a hit to my head. My ears ring, and my head throbs. I let him go, and strike him in the face over and over, he tries to block himself, but I find an opening every time. The crowd starts to boo, and my heart strikes with fear. Why are they booing? Usually they only boo if nothing is happening. Letting go of him, I jump to my feet and he slowly climbs to his own huffing and puffing. Eyeing me with an unreadable look he digs in his shorts and pulls out a serrated knife. My back breaks out into a nervous sweat as I wait for them to call the fight, but nobody does anything. The announcer is quiet, and the crowd is wild. I finger the cage, eyeing the man outside by the door. “This is MMA, not the streets!” The guy laughs, crossing his arms. “This isn’t Kansas anymore Dorothy, I don’t open the door until they call the fight.” Like lightening, Bret jumps at me with the knife. I freeze, I can’t move. I might die here tonight, all over a lousy check and contract. This is not what I signed up for. This is not okay. Not paying attention, pain slices through my abdomen. Glancing down blood caresses my jersey shorts. “You fucking cut me!” I look up at Bret, he looks like a savage with the way he’s looking at me. His legs are spread wide, his body swaying back and forth as he grips the knife with a death grip.

“You don’t have to do this,” I state softly, my hands out to caution him. “The fuck if I don’t. I need that money, I need that contract, I won’t make it in the UFC any other way.” He takes a stab at me, the serrated knife grabbing my shoulder and slicing it open. Roaring with pain, I sidestep him. The crowd is ecstatic, eating up every bit of my pain. Thomas never showed me how to dismantle a knife from someone in a ring, but if I’m going to get out of this alive. I’ll have to figure it out. “I don’t want to hurt you. Please just set the knife down Bret!” With every rush of pain pulsing through my body, my patience is wearing thin. “Oh but I do, you’re going to die here tonight, and then I’m going to be rich.” He pushes the words through clenched teeth. Turning around I get behind him and grab him by the head, throwing him on his back. Straddling him for control he jabs the knife into my thigh, the searing pain aching down to the bone. Reaching for the knife, he jerks it out and goes for my throat. Before I can think of my next move, I grab him by the head and twist till I hear a crack. His body goes limp, the knife dropping to the floor along with his hand. My chest heaves as I look upon his lifeless body, my hand turns palm up and trembling. How did I do that? It was so easy, like a second nature. Instinct even. “We got a tap out!” The announcer affirms the win, declaring Bret’s lifeless hand hitting the mat a tap out. I just killed him. I just killed someone.

Chapter Twenty-One

Tate “Oh my god Tate, you can’t wear that.” Chloe’s eyes bug out of her head as she looks me up and down. I’m wearing jeans and a black racer back tank top. I mean it’s not a dress, but it’s not what I wear to clean the house either. She’s such a diva sometimes. I have no idea how we click like we do, we’re so different. “Where did he say he was taking you again?” Huffing I strip down to my bra and panties. Frustrated with what to wear. “He didn’t say. Which is more torture than surprising because now I’m stuck with do I dress up or not.” “Hmmm.” Chloe ruffles through my bags of clothes, tossing exercise clothes left and right as if they’re trash themselves. “Just as I thought, you’re going to need my wardrobe.” She stands up, holding the bag I had my clothes in. She went through all my clothes and none of them are to her liking. I owned two dresses that Chloe would have probably approved of, and they sit in the closet in my dorm room with tags on them. “I’m not wearing your clothes. A date is nerve wracking enough, why add to the stress of a constricting dress that squeezes the life out of you,” I explain further. “That’s the fun in it,” she laughs. I shake my head. “I must have missed the class where they teach girls to dress like clowns and call it fun. Besides, it’s just me and Camden, we don’t have to impress anyone.” I tell Chloe a lot of things, but I don’t tell her about what goes on between Camden and I. She wouldn’t understand our need for rough sex. Camden and I are a different kind of breed, we seek pleasure through pain. We don’t perceive pain like others. “Here, wear this.” Chloe tosses a slouchy red shirt and a black skirt at me. Holding them up I inspect them further. “Maybe to the shirt, hell no to she skirt.” I toss the black tube top she calls a skirt back at her. “Oh my god, you’re going to be the lady that wears yoga pants on your wedding day, aren’t you?” She purses her lips, one hand on her hip. “Maybe,” I laugh. “Try the damn skirt on, it’s really soft material.” She tosses the black skirt back at me. “It’s not me,” I protest. “I know you don’t know how to wear things like this so let me teach you.” Ripping it from my hands she holds the waist of the skirt open. Normally I’d get mad at someone talking to me like that,

but she might be on to something. I really don’t know anything about dressing up. “You put both feet in at once, and pull it to your waste.” Sarcasm thick in her voice she holds the skirt open, waiting for me to step in as if she’s dressing a child. “Give me that.” I tug it from her grip, and glare at her. She’s right, the material is soft. Maybe it will be comfortable. Placing both my feet in I pull it up. It fits snugly along my waist, but holy hell the side of it cuts up past the knee. I gulp, unsure if I have the legs for this. I’ve been gaining a lot of muscle lately. Grabbing the shirt, I put it on and turn to look in the mirror. This is not me. I look tense. I look insecure, and that can’t be sexy. “You look hot!” Chloe slaps at my ass. “I don’t know,” I reply softly. “Trust me, you look great.” Chloe bounces on my bed in excitement. The doorbell rings and we both freeze, my heart skipping a beat. Chloe runs to the window, peeking through the blinds. This feels like my first date with Camden all over again. “He’s here!” she whispers loudly. “Dad is sleeping, and Journey isn’t here. Will you go let him in?” Nodding she races out of the room. I glance back at the mirror, the dreaded shirt and skirt looking back at me. I turn around and bend over, the skirt rides up, the cut going up my thigh. “Oh my god, I can’t wear this,” I whisper to myself. I want men to see me as an equal, as a challenge. In this, I’m screaming ‘slip two fingers in when I bend over boys’. Quickly I tug the shirt over my head, the material getting caught on my hair. Then I pull the skirt off so fast I swear it rips. I grab my jeans and shuffle them on and literally sigh at the comfort they bring. Bending down I grab my black racer back shirt and pull it on. Turning, I look back in the mirror and already feel more at ease. My pink sports bra peeks through in spots, but it still covers me more than that skirt and shirt did. This is who I am, and if anyone will understand that, it’s Camden. If not, then maybe I’ll just be single for the rest of my life. This is a good test to see if Camden is still the boy I loved four years ago, or if fame has struck him into another person. He has so many girls that doll themselves up with the most expensive furs and perfume. He needs to know now that I’m not them. I’m still Tate. Stepping out of the room, I literally hear Chloe gasp in shock when she sees I changed back into my clothes. I smile at her mortification. My eyes sweep to the door, finding Camden wearing a gray suit with a purple tie. I do a double take. He’s. Wearing. A. Fucking. Suit.

My stomach knots as I look down at myself. My bravado fleeing. I’m such an asshole for not dressing up! My back breaks out in a nervous sweat as my heart skips a beat. “Shit,” Camden mutters under his breath. “I’m sorry. I just—” The words get caught in my mouth trying to explain why I didn’t dress up. He rips the suit jacket off, tugs on his tie before taking it off. “Camden you don’t have to take—” He holds his finger up, ushering me to wait a minute. Pulling the cuff links from his sleeves he rolls them up, and swipes his hands through his hair. In black slacks, a white dress shirt, and just fucked hair, Camden looks good enough to eat. Call me crazy, but I’d rather have my men rough around the edges than prim and proper. I’d take a man in gray sweats with that just worked out sweaty glow, over a man in a suit with soft hands any day. “I was hoping you weren’t going to dress up, but I wasn’t sure and didn’t want to show up in casual while you dressed up. I’d feel like an asshole.” He shrugs, a smirk fitting his face flawlessly. “Well, more than usual anyway.” “You look really good,” I smile approvingly. He looks ravishing cleaned up. “You too.” He looks me up and down and a blush heats my cheeks. We both look at Chloe who is standing next to us. Her face is pinched in confusion as she eyes us like we’re a reality TV show. See, she never did get Camden and I. “You know what, I thought maybe you two were just ass backwards, but now… I know you two are perfect for each other.” She rolls her eyes, and sashays out of the room. The room is filled with tension as she leaves, leaving an awkward Camden and I. It feels like a first date all over again. Risking a glance at Camden, both hands in his pocket, his head leaned down he looks up at me. “You ready?” He holds his hand out to me. I smile and grab it. “Yes.” “Good, we don’t want to miss our flight.” My smile fades. “Flight?” “Yeah, our date is in South Dakota.”

Camden Tate is looking out the window, her face lit up and eyes bright. She looks like a little kid on her first airplane and I can’t take my eyes off of her. Kaley really went all out getting me these tickets. I don’t know how she got a private jet, and I’m not sure I want to. I know I can’t afford it. I’m broke. I made sure to spend damn near every dime I had trying to bury myself and hinder my celebrity profile as much as I could. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Snapping me from my thoughts I mask a smile.

“Seeing that you got your first fight booked, I want you to see what it’s like in the ring up close,” I explain. “You’re taking me to a cage fight!” Her face stoic, I can’t help but chuckle. “Yes, I pulled a few strings and got us tickets.” She grabs my hand, and squeezes it tenderly. My brows furrow as I look down at our hands interlocked. The soft gesture hitting me in the chest and bringing every single feeling I ever had for Tate to the surface. “Thank you.” Taking my gaze from our hands I look at her green eyes. “You’re welcome.” I’m falling for her all over again. Landing at the airport, a private black town car takes us to the arena. As soon as we pull up there’s cameras everywhere. News reporters broadcasting live right outside the arena. Shit, I was hoping they’d all be inside. I squeeze Tate’s hand grabbing her attention. “I’m not sure if we’ll bring any attention or not, but if they come running with cameras keep your head down and do not respond to anything they say.” She looks at me with pinched brows. “Do you understand?” She nods. “Yeah, okay,” her voice small, I give a curt nod and inhale a deep breath. I’ve been out of the spotlight for a while now, but if they’re hungry enough… the sharks will come running at the bait. Tate being the worm. Our driver pulls up front and quickly I get out to open Tate’s door. Holding her hand I keep my head down and head toward the front entrance. Not paying attention to who’s in front of me I knock into a little boy. “Sorry about that little guy.” I ruffle his hair, and step around him. “Hey, that’s Camden Steel!” My chest constricts, as the boy announces my name to everyone in the vicinity. “Should we stop?” Tate questions. A reporter holding a mic looks our way, her eyes lighting up with recognition. Fuck. Quickly she races toward me, a few paparazzi right behind her. “Camden where have you been?” A reporter shoves her mic in my face. “Camden why did you stop fighting?” “Camden is this your girlfriend?” “Ma’am are you pregnant?” I cringe at that last question. Instantly MFC sanctioned bodyguards rush out of the arena, pushing the cameras and flashing lights away. “Come with us sir!” Holding their arms out they lead a path to the door.

Wrapping my arm around Tate I rush inside the secure doors, and away from the sudden chaos. Once inside a short stalky man awaits with his arms crossed. His thin red hair shining amongst the lights, and bright eyes smiling as if he loves his job and is the happiest man alive. “Sorry Mr. Steel. Had we known you were arriving we would have had a more secure entrance.” I raise a brow not sure who the hell this guy is. Noticing my skepticism, he holds his hand out to shake. “I’m Conrad and I’m in charge of security. We help celebrities and high profiles get inside the building without hassle of the paparazzi.” “Are you okay?” I take my attention off Conrad, and direct it toward Tate. She seems a little frazzled, as she nods. Letting go of her hand I grip her chin, making her look at me. “Are you sure?” Maybe we should leave, maybe this was a bad idea. She smirks, pulling from my hold. “Yes, I’m fine. That was just… interesting,” she smirks, looking away. “Sorry, I was really hoping they’d forgot about me,” I admit. Her brows pull together in a mix of anger and confusion. “Camden, why would you wish that?” Lowering my head, I swallow. I don’t want to be in the ring anymore. I can’t. I get in the cage and become someone else. A monster I never knew I was capable of becoming. One I don’t ever want to become again. I can feel it though, the beast that lurks in the depths of my wellbeing waiting to be unleashed. He’s untamable, and dangerous. Nobody would understand where I’m coming from and they can’t. I signed an NDA, I might as well have signed away my soul. Shaking my head of the thoughts, I place my hand on the small of Tate’s back. “Come on, let’s find our seats.” Conrad directs us to private seats up front. The arena is so loud I can’t talk to Tate so we just exchange eye glances. Silently speaking to each other. “Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready to see Wade Hafferman, and Laner Geezman get it on!” The announcer booms through the intercom. The crowd cheers in anticipation, but what really has me excited is Tate. I know Laner has the fight. She’s at the edge of her seat, looking over the few rows in front of us. She’s really in her element. Maybe she is ready to fight. After all, this is what she’s wanted since I’ve known her. I have wanted to be a fighter since I was a little kid too, but Tate, she has it in her blood. Glancing at the ring Wade stands tall and lean, his red hair his Irish trademark. Laner bounces on his heels, circling Wade like a shark. Laner is short and stalky, his braided Mohawk popular amongst the ladies. Wade is 7 and 1, and Laner is 6 and 2. Wade has won more fights, but mostly by tap out. Laner has

been knocked out each time he’s won. He has the muscle, he’s just gotta think before he reacts. The fight starts, and Tate goes from standing up to sitting down. Relaxing in my chair I rest my arm along the back of hers and watch her. I could care less about the fight. It’s her I’m more fascinated with. Staring at her makes my heart race, and my dick hard. Finding someone who knows this world, who shares the common hot headed temper that I do. It undoes me. She looks at me eyes wide and says something, but I can’t hear a word she’s saying. She laughs, grabs my face and points it in the direction of the fight. Wade has Laner in a chokehold. My adrenaline spikes. I’m shocked. I surely thought Laner had this fight. Images flash quickly in my head of my fight in The Underground and I have to clench my eyes shut, willing the images to go away. Exhaling a breath, I slowly open my eyes and focus on the fight, telling myself it’s not me in the ring, to relax. Laner tries to fight the hold, but it’s useless, he taps out. The crowd erupts in cheers and boos, and I am a little dumbstruck by the outcome. Tate jumps to her feet, booing. She even cheers for the same contenders I do. Grabbing Tate’s hand I stand, the feel of her small fingers interlocking between mine, a comfort I didn’t know I was missing ‘til now. She leans in, the smell of her circling me. “Where are we going?” she asks. “To the hotel, where I can fuck you.” She steps back, her chest rising as she takes a deep breath. Her eyes flick between both of mine, and I think she’s going to refuse, but then she nods. A vixen smile splitting her face. Conrad exits us in a more secluded area than we came in, and we drive to a nearby hotel for the night. It looks posh, no doubt what’s left of my savings is paying for this night. It’s worth it though. Every dime. Checking in a bellboy directs us to the elevator. Once inside he keeps staring at Tate. She’s a pretty girl, any guy can see that. I’ll let that look over slide. He glances at her again, his eyes raking her up and down and my heartbeat speeds up, my hands clenching into fists. The elevator dings, and they step out before I can grab him by the collar and lay my fist into him. He takes us to our room and Tate opens it. “Thank you.” She smiles at him, and enters the room. He nods, clasping his hands together but he doesn’t leave. “Are you waiting for a tip?” I ask incredulously. He smirks. “That would be great, I mean I did walk you all the way up here,” he shrugs with a dopey grin. I look down, rubbing my cheek. “Walked us all the way up here, huh?” I laugh.

Grabbing him by the shoulder I push him back a few steps to where Tate can’t hear what I’m about to say. I’m trying my best to be a gentleman tonight, but this fucker is pushing my buttons. “You want a tip? Don’t eye another man’s woman, especially in front of him.” I squeeze his shoulder, and he shrinks in my hold, his knees buckling. “Especially a fucking fighter ’s woman.” “Yes sir,” he squeaks, his face pinched with pain. I let him go, shoving him back a few steps. “Fucking prick,” I mutter under my breath. Stepping inside the room, I kick the door shut. Tate is standing in front of a large king size bed, her arms crossed. “Was that necessary?” My breath catches knowing I’d been caught. Striding toward her I grab the nape of her neck. “Very,” I whisper, backing her toward the bed. Her breathing becomes erratic, her eyes hooded when she realizes I’m serious about taking her to bed and now. Shoving her, she plops onto the mattress. Placing her hands behind her she holds herself up. Pressing my knees into the bed I crawl over her body, and she lays back, her legs parting to let me in. I slide my hand on the outside of her thigh. “These legs were made to only open for me.” I grab her jean clad pussy, and rub vigorously. “This pussy only gets wet for me.” Dipping my head I brush my lips along hers. “These lips were made to only moan my name.” Her body trembles beneath me, and I kiss her hard. My tongue demanding entry, I greedily take her tongue hostage. Cupping her face, I pull my mouth back, and she kisses my bottom lip seductively. Sliding my hands up her shirt I grab her tit, and pinch her nipple hard. I can’t help but notice how my hand cups her breast perfectly. I’ve been with dozens of women and none of them fit the palm of my hand like Tate’s tits do. It’s my version of Cinderella, instead of a glass fucking slipper, it’s the perfect tit. Fairytale or not, it’s proof this maddening woman is made to be mine. She moans, her hips bucking against mine. “Patience baby,” I whisper against the hollow of her neck. Her nails scratch up my back, the razor sting slicing through my skin before her fingers lock in my hair. She wants it rough. Reaching up, my fingers slide along her forearm before cupping her hand and bringing it down. “Not this time, baby.” Her eyes widen, and her mouth parts slightly. We’ve never been together any other way. It’s a night full of firsts. “I’ve taken you rough and any way I’ve wanted since we were kids, but I’ve never made love to you, Tate. The one thing I regretted after you left.”

Pulling her hand from mine she cups my face, her fingers rubbing against my scruff. “I thought fighters didn’t do anything soft?” I lean into her soft palm, kissing her fingers. “Who said I was going to make love softly? I intend to go hard, I’m just going to ravish every inch of your body in the process. ” Tucking my nose into the crook of her neck, I smell her. Programming it to memory. After the second year of her being gone, I forgot what she smelled like. It killed me. Her hands sweep in between us and fondle the buttons of my pants. The head of my cock pressing into her. I bite my bottom lip, I love a woman in charge, actually, I love Tate in charge. The urge to bend her over and sink into her so deep she arches that back, giving me no choice but to tug those beautiful long locks almost unbearably. “You’re testing my resolve, baby,” I admit. The idea of going slow and gentle dissolving into the need to go fast and hard. Using her feet, she shoves my pants and briefs down to my knees, my cock popping out more than ready to satisfy Tate. Sitting up on my knees my dick stands at attention, the shaft veiny and ready to sink into Tate. Using her hands she pushes herself up and fists my cock. I suck in a tight breath, my balls squeezing from the foreign touch. Her lips curve over the tip of my cock, and my head lolls back. My eyes rolling into the back of my head from her wet warm mouth sucking just the tip. I swear to God I fall into a realm of bliss. She’s not the most experienced, but it’s Tate. It’s perfect. Holding the base of my dick she slowly trails her tongue up my shaft and my cock pulses ready to spray cum on her pretty face. Quickly I grab her hand to still her. Taking a deep breath I open my glazed eyes. “You gotta stop that.” “Why?” she asks sheepishly. “Because if you don’t I’m going to cum, and I don’t want to. Not yet.” She smiles, and sits back on her hands satisfied with herself. Grabbing the hem of her shirt, I pull it up over her head and throw it on the floor. Her tight stomach begs for me to touch it, to swipe my tongue along her navel. Swiping my hand along across her belly I grab her hips, hoisting her up to dip my tongue into her navel. Her fingers gently slip through my hair, as I taste the sweetness her body has to offer. Kissing her stomach I set her back on her knees and grab her sports bra, helping her out of it. Her breasts stand firmly, her pink nipples erect and waiting for me. Crawling over her she has no choice but to fall on her back, her fingers digging into my biceps as I take her nipple into my mouth and suck on it. Her skin is salty and sweet and I lose control of trying to be gentle and bite at the flesh. She moans

wildly, and arches her body into me. Giving herself to me, she’s in my control. Lazily my fingers trail down the curves of her body. When I reach her jeans I unbutton them, and she raises her hips, allowing me to shimmy them down her sexy thighs. She kicks them off the rest of the way. I pull on the black boy shorts that hold what my cock longs for. I look at her under hooded eyes and her hands still on my head. I pull the crotch of her panties to the side and sweep my tongue in between her wet lips. Her fingers tighten in my hair, her knees coming up and body arching. “Oh my god, Camden,” she moans. I swipe at it again, the salty taste coating my mouth. My balls tighten, ready to cum. Sitting up I tug her panties down her legs and toss them over my shoulder. Hovering over her I grab her under her knee, bringing her leg around the back of me. Needing to feel her closer to me. Slowly, I press the tip of my dick into her opening, before hitting the sweet spot. Her eyes close, her head pressing into the mattress as I go in as far as I can. Her pussy is tight and squeezing my cock like a glove. Caressing her silky thigh down to her ass cheek, I pull her onto me wanting more of her. Thrusting in and out of her slowly but with force, I find a rhythm. Her hands slide along my chest and up over my shoulders before anchoring themselves. She feels so good wrapped around me, my body takes over and I drive into her harder and harder. Her tits bounce, the bed slamming against the wall as I fuck her. Each thrust slow, but powerful. A beautiful blush spreads over her body as she starts to tense beneath me, her body warning me she’s close. My cock pulses and my body stiffens as I hit the brink of release. Gripping her ass cheeks, I pull her onto me harder, and my cock hits her just right causing her to gasp, her eyes rolling into her head. I come with her. Clenching my eyes shut, my fingers digging into her, I pound until my toes curl and a primitive growl vibrates through every limb of my body. Coming down from our high, my hips slow but my heart continues to race. Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she tries to catch her breath, realizing I’m probably crushing her I roll over, bringing her with me she lays on top of me. Using my feet, I kick the blankets down and up over the both of us. Her perfect tits press into my chest and I can feel the thud of her heart. I finger her hair lazily, pressing her head into me a little more. “Stay right here, all night,” I demand rather than ask. Making sure she knows she’s not going anywhere. “I’m not going anywhere, Camden,” her voice half asleep.

In the middle of the night I wake startled not sure where I am. Images of Bret’s lifeless body waver in my blurred vision, sweat soaking the sheets. Quickly I sit up, my heart racing to the point I feel dizzy. I feel cold and alone. “Tate?” Using my arm I feel along the bed for Tate, but come up empty. My heart skips a beat, my body warming in a state of panic that she left. Sitting up on my knees I pull the blankets off the bed and find her hanging halfway off the other side of the bed naked. She must have moved after I fell asleep. Relieved she didn’t leave me again, I slide both hands through my hair trying to relax my beating heart. Glancing at her I can’t help but notice how peaceful she looks asleep. Anger strikes against my chest after the panic settles. I didn’t want her to move away from me. Did she think I was joking? Climbing off the bed I grab her by the ankle, jerking her to the edge of the bed roughly. She jumps awake panicked. Her wild, frantic eyes finding mine. “Camden, what the fuck?” “I thought I made it clear I didn’t want you to move, I wanted you to sleep on me.” My voice hard and accusing, all the feelings I felt that morning after she left when I was eighteen surfacing. She jerks her foot, but I tighten my hold. “I wasn’t joking.” Bending down I grab her by the hips and throw her naked body over my shoulder. “What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?” “I have, and it’s because I fell for the little girl next door when I was a fucking kid,” I bark. Yanking the curtains to the floor to ceiling window open I set her down, her back facing me. “Put your hands on the window,” I instruct harshly. She obeys surprisingly, and looks over her shoulder. “What are you doing?” “Fucking you.” Spreading her ass cheeks I push the head of my dick into her quickly, needing to feel her now. She takes in a sharp breath, her fingers tensing against the glass as I shove into her with so much force her head bangs against the window. My chest rising and falling rapidly, I caress the shell of her ear with my lips. “I know what you’re thinking.” Her forehead pressed against the window she turns it, looking me in the eye. “What?” “That I’m possessive, controlling, crazy.” I thrust into her hard and her mouth parts with pleasure. “You made me this way, you made me the crazy man that wants to love you.” Pressing my back onto hers, I interlock our fingers on the window, my face in the crook of her neck.

“Let me love you, let me be the crazy motherfucker that loves you.” She nods, her breath fogging the glass as I continue to thrust into her. “I thought you left me again,” I whisper against the shell of her ear, as I pound into her wet pussy relentlessly. She moans in response, her head falling back. “No, I’m right here,” she groans in reply. Untangling my hand from hers I wrap her long blond locks around my fists, and drive into her hard. She arches into me wanting more. Her cries, moans, and audible breaths, I take them all, and with envy. “My naughty little Tate, the girl next door that likes her hair pulled and ass spanked as I pound into her without mercy.” “Yes!” she moans, meeting my thrusts. Every erotic sound spilling from her gorgeous body is mine. Tatum Davis is mine. Pressure builds in my cock, and my chest constricts with the urge to cum. Letting go of one of her hands I slap the side of her ass and she whimpers. My hand burns from the contact. “That’s for not listening to me. That is for making me fucking crazy. That is for making me love you all over again!” I spank her hard, and her pussy tightens around mine. The sensation firing in my dick and shooting down my body until I’m weak in the knees. Panting I slowly pull my dick from her wetness, and she shivers from the void. Picking her up bride style I bring her back to the bed, placing her back on my chest. Where she belongs. I toss the blankets over us, and tangle one hand in her hair while the other soothes the soreness of her butt cheek away. “I love you Tatum Davis,” I whisper into her hair.

Chapter Twenty-Two

One week later Tate “Keep your chin up!” Camden taps my chin with his glove, and I push my head up. My eyes setting on his. When we got back from our date night I went and checked on my dad and then went to Camden’s. As soon as I walked in he fucked me against the door. The hostility and resentment finally gone, we haven’t been able to keep our hands off each other since. He slaps me in the side of the head, grabbing my attention. “Focus!” he scolds, his face hard. “The fight is in two days,” he reminds me. I nod, narrowing my eyes on his hands as I spar with him. “You’re not wearing out as quickly, that’s good,” Camden praises. “I’d like to take praise for that, keeping you in my bed probably helped with that,” he states smug. I roll my eyes. “I wouldn’t go that far.” “Tate, this is Reba, she is going to do your wardrobe,” Debs states from outside the ring. I lower my hands, and spit out my mouth guard as I look her way. A tall skinny blonde woman stands next to her. She has on a long sleek dress, and has high pink cheek bones. She looks like she just crawled out of a store front based out of New York. “I’m sorry, my what?” I can’t help the high skepticism in my voice. “Your wardrobe my dear. The weigh in is tomorrow, not to mention the interviews. You’ll want to look your best,” Reba adds, her accent telling me is definitely not from here. “I’m going to fight, not walk the damn runaway.” I put my fists back up, urging Camden to come at me. “Actually, Kiki refused the interview,” Debs informs. “Why?” Camden’s face narrows in questioning. “She is insulted that a newbie is getting into the ring with her.” Debs shrugs. It hurts, but it will be her mistake if she underestimates me. “Okay, so you’ll need approved gear for the weigh in and fight, I can take care of that,” Reba informs with a cheesy smile. “This is unnecessary, I don’t need a wardrobe.” I point at Reba, eyeing Debs like she’s lost her mind. “You’ll have fans, little girls will be watching you, they will want to be you. You need to set an

example.” I drop my fists. “What message will I be sending them if I let you dress me up like a goddamn doll, when that isn’t who I am.” I half laugh. Reba looks shocked, her mouth dropping, and her hand clutching her chest. “Do you get what you’re doing? Do you get that you are jumping the fucking spectrum with this fight? Do you have any idea how hard women work to get here?” Debs’ voice rises as I have clearly unraveled her. Reba touches Debs’ arm gently, as if to calm her. “Tate, trust me. I won’t have you looking like a … doll. We will find something that matches your personality,” Reba assures me. “Personality? Do you have something made of nails?” Debs huffs, crossing her arms. I glare at her, but kind of take it as a compliment. “No, something edgy, and daring would work well,” Reba objects, as she clasps her hands in front of her. Wiping my forehead with my wrist, I exhale a frustrated breath. “Fine.” “Right, well, we should get a move on then.” Reba smiles. I look at Camden worried, and he looks at her like she’s crazy. “Now? You want to go on a shopping trip now?” Camden questions. Time is practically ticking away before this fight. I need to be here, not at the goddamn mall. “Yes, time is ticking and I clearly have my work cut out for me.” Reba eyes me like I’m her worst challenge yet. Two hours later I’m standing in a private studio that Reba and Debs rented out. They have racks of clothes, all approved clothing for the weigh in. I couldn’t be more bored. “These are what you will strip down to at weigh in.” Debs throws two tiny pieces of clothing at me. Untangling them there is a small black sports bra and black bikini. Both of them have a red United Front Fighting League logo on the corner of them. “This is what I’m wearing… in front of everyone?” I ask incredulously. I don’t wear swimsuits that are this revealing on the beach, let alone in front of a crowd. “Yes, it’s perfect,” Reba chimes from the back as she slides through outfits. “I might as well just go out in nothing!” My cheeks flush thinking about being in these. “It has to be light to make sure you are in the right weight class as Kiki,” Debs informs. “You have been sticking to the nutrition plan right?” “Yes, but, how does this all work exactly?” I ask. “Well, they will call your name, you’ll go out, strip down, and step on the scale. Then you will

step aside and wait until they are done weighing Kiki, and then you will have the stare off,” Debs explains. “It will be televised so make sure you keep your cool. You are a last minute fill in, so fans are not going to like you.” I swallow overthinking the whole not liking me part. What if they boo? What if I cry? I’ve seen these on TV plenty of times. They can get pretty heated. I’ve always wondered if it was just a show though, the angry act they put up when staring each other down. I guess I’ll find out. “They might like her,” Reba states. “They will when you win.” Debs slides her tongue along the bottom of her lip, her eyebrows bouncing with confidence. “If I win,” I add, eyeing her. My phone beeps. Pulling it out of my pocket I unlock the screen finding a text from Camden. You coming over tonight? -Camden I think I’m going to have dinner at my dad’s and then I’ll come over. -T Have you told him about the fight? -Camden I pick at my bottom lip. No. I will tonight. -T Sliding my phone in my pocket I watch Debs and Reba fight over a pair of windbreakers. “Are we done?” “The black!” Reba points, before yanking them from Debs’ hands. Debs rolls her eyes before looking at me. “Yeah, we got the measurements we need. Be at the airport tomorrow at eight in the morning sharp.” Debs points at me like a disobedient child. I nod, rolling my eyes while I grab my gym bag off the floor. “Got it.” Driving to my dad’s my stomach twists and turns. How am I going to tell him about the fight? Pulling into the driveway I spot Camden’s car parked in his driveway. I can’t wait to see him, and talk to him. I am so nervous about the fight. What if I’m not ready? What if I lose? Turning the engine off I get out, and eye the front door to my dad’s house. I want my dad’s blessing on this. I will still fight without it, but it’ll make this a lot easier knowing he supports me. Entering the house it smells of cooked garlic. “Aw, you showed up just in time. Journey is making dinner,” Dad smiles from his chair. He’s oddly in a good mood. Great, I’m about to ruin it. “Smells good.” I smile, but it doesn’t feel natural. It’s forced, and not genuine. I have too much on my mind to be genuine.

Walking over to Dad’s chair I pat his shoulder. “Hey Dad, how ya feeling?” I ask, eyeing the three empty grape juices on his end table. “Better, this clean eating is horse shit, but better.” He looks up at me and winces. “Jesus Tate, you smell.” Lifting my arm I smell under my pit. Wow, yeah I need a shower. “Wow, you’re such a lady.” Journey giggles behind me. Turning toward her I find her setting down a big dish of cheesy lasagna. “Journey, that is not healthy for Dad!” She rolls her eyes. “Come on, everyone gets a cheat day once in a while.” The smell of melted cheese and garlic fill the air and my stomach growls. Resting my hands on my stomach I battle with myself. I have weigh in tomorrow, and was told not to eat anything. This is going to be hard, but it’ll be worth it. Everyone heads to the table, and I remember why I really came over here instead of staying at Camden’s tonight. Dad’s approval. Like that, my appetite is gone. I want to puke. “How is the training going?” Dad asks, his voice doesn’t sound very excited though. Playing with my fork, my breath catches in my throat making me cough. Journey and Dad both eye me awkwardly. “I um, I got a fight booked.” Taking my eyes from my plate I peek at Dad’s face. His fork is midair, his eyes sweeping over to mine. My heart beats wildly, my mouth dry, seconds feel like hours. He sets his fork down, and interlocks his fingers. “Where? With who?” I set my fork down, and clear my throat. “In Colorado. Kiki ‘Queen Kong’ was supposed to fight Momma Mateia, and they pulled last minute. They had a sold out arena and somehow my trainer Debs pulled some strings, and I’m the fill in.” Dad’s lips purse, his forehead sweating profusely. “That must be some strings she’s got to land you something so big, so quick,” Dad chuckles, but it’s not hearty. “Yeah, I know.” I look to the side of the table in thought. “You think you’re ready?” Journey asks, her mouth full of food. I shrug. “I don’t know. How does anyone know they’re ready when you have no idea what is going to happen in that ring?” My voice cracks. I look at Dad, hoping for some kind of guidance. He’s been through this with boxing surely he’ll know. He scratches the back of his head, his eyes closed. He’s going to snap. I can feel it. “You won’t know if you’re ready. You’ll never know. Not until you’re either winning, or you’re

in so much pain and on your back about to lose.” Dad opens his eyes, looking at me sincerely. My eyes fill with tears. I just got Dad’s approval. His hand reaches over, stopping as if he’s second guessing his next move, before clasping the top of my hand. “Good luck.”

Camden Tate has been quiet since she got on the plane this morning. She’s nervous. I can tell. I know because I used to be the same way before a fight. Standing outside the dressing room, I wait for Debs and Thomas to leave. I need Tate alone. I need to break through that focused barrier she’s in so I can see where her head is at. The door opens, and Debs and Thomas finally walk out. They don’t even notice me. Going inside the locker room Tate is sitting on the bench, her head in her hands. “Hey,” I announce my presence. She glances up, her hair falling in her face. “Hey,” her voice sounds so small and insecure. Stepping in front of her I kneel down, my hands on her knees. She’s wearing a black tank top and black windbreaker pants paired with white tennis shoes. She looks great. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” I ask, grabbing her chin to force her to look at me. She rolls her eyes, pulling from my grip. “I’m not even supposed to be here. I’m not ready,” her voice cracks. “I’m only here because Debs probably paid someone off, or someone owed her a favor, or who knows what. I’m going to get my ass kicked and my career is going to be over before it starts,” she fumes. Her voice panicked and scared. Angry with her self-loathing I grab her hands, and push her back onto the bench. Her legs hanging off on each side. “Show them you belong here. You’re ready for this Tate, don’t be the one to stand in the way of your own victory.” My voice serious, I stare right into her green eyes, telling her the truth. “I’m so nervous. My hands have been shaking since I got on the plane.” She raises a hand, showing me just how unsteady they are. I smirk. I remember the jitters, and I remember the only way to cure it. Sex. I slip my hand under the waist of her pants, and her eyes light up. “I know how to fix that,” my voice low and husky. “You’re a funny guy.” She slaps at my hand, thinking I’m joking. I grin, my hand traveling upwards. “What can I say, I live by making you laugh, then making you

moan.” My fingers graze along her wetness and her face goes serious. “What if someone walks in?” Her eyes dart to the door, her hand holding onto my wrist. “Then they’ll get a show,” I shrug. My fingers slip through her wetness, finding her more than ready for me. Pushing two fingers in, her body rises with the intrusion. My cock presses against my jeans painfully. I’d fuck her, but I know they’ll call her name any minute. I pump my fingers in and out of her, and her eyes roll into the back of her head. Her hands scratching at my shoulders. “That’s it baby, relax. You got this,” I whisper, coaxing her to the brink of an orgasm. Her lips form into the shape of an ‘O’, and her pussy clenches my fingers. Hooking my finger just right, her hips buck against my hand. “Oh God,” she drawls out, coming on my fingers. Pulling my hand out of her bottoms, I suck on my fingers. “How do you feel now?” I ask with a smirk. “Better.” She breathes heavily. The door flings open, and Tate jumps upright. “They’re calling your name next!” Debs’ voice wavers with excitement. Grabbing Tate’s hand I haul her out of the locker room and onto the stage. “You got this Tate. Show that bitch who Tatum Davis is,” I whisper into the back of her head.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Tate Stepping onto the stage, the crowd boos, and some cheer. I suck in a breath that doesn’t seem to want to release, and stop in my tracks. The stage lights beaming a ray of lava across my face has me instantly sweating. A guy to my right ushers me to step on the scale, but I can’t move. I’m frozen as I look around the crowd. Watching them rant and rave over me. So many angry faces are yelling at me. Why aren’t I walking? I’m making a fool of myself! Move damn it! Forcing myself, I step forward. “The challenger, Tatum Davis!” The intercom announces. Striding further out, I tug my pants, letting them pool to my feet before taking them off. Quickly I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it off. Instantly a cold chill races up my spine. I’m in front of not only a crowd of people, but cameras, practically naked. I swallow the insecurities catching in my throat. I can do this. This fight is mine. Pushing my hair out of the way, I step onto the scale and stare into the distance at nothing in particular. “One thirty four!” The man announces, and everyone cheers. I step off the scale and make my way to the side of the stage. Wait, do I put my clothes back on? Debs didn’t tell me. “Now for the opponent, Kiki ‘Queen Koooooooong!’ The speakers pound out a beat, and the crowd literally screams with so much excitement my ears ring. They clearly love her. I’d like to say I’m not feeling insecure, but I most definitely am. She steps out onto the stage with ease, as if she’s fucking floating. She’s clearly done this many times. Her dark hair is pulled up into a cute messy ponytail, and she’s wearing a red hoody, and black shorts. She undresses quickly, not a care in the world that everyone is going to judge her of every curve and muscle. Her boobs that are clearly bigger than mine are pushed tightly from her black sports bra, and her muscular thighs stretch the thin black material that makes up her bikini bottoms. She steps on the scale, and gives a fisted wave to the crowd. “One thirty four!” the announcer tells the audience. She steps off the scale, her eyes narrowing in on me. She looks pissed. Really pissed. My heart beats wildly in my chest, my fists clenching. Do I look away? Look at her? Shit, do I hit her? If she raises her fist I may hit her on instinct. Will I get in trouble? She steps right in front of me, her nose almost touching mine. My nostrils flare as I glower at her.

“You don’t belong here bitch!” she sneers, raising her fists. Cameras flash from every direction catching the intense moment. I grit my teeth, not giving her the satisfaction of getting me riled up in front of everyone. “Do you hear me?!” she screams in my face, and someone on her team grabs her by the shoulders pulling her back. “Wow, what a rush! What was going on in your head Kiki?” The announcer tilts the mic toward her, awaiting her response. She rolls her head on her shoulders, her eyes meeting mine. “We all know she shouldn’t be here. When I’m done with her, ain’t nobody even going to remember her name.” She points at me, and I swallow the sudden urge to go over there and slam my fist in her face right now. The announcer steps toward me, mic in hand. “What do you have to say to that, Tate?” I smirk, my brow raising. “She might be right. But when you lose on Saturday, nobody is going to let you forget it.” I shrug, and the crowd hollers in my favor. She steps forward like she’s ready to pound me right here. I’m getting under her skin. I’m ushered off the stage, Kiki right behind me as the announcer reminds the crowd of sponsors and the time of the fight. “That’s cute, did you recite that in the mirror?” Kiki sneers from behind me once we are out of cameras lenses. My cheeks fume with anger. I want nothing more than to prove to her right here I am more than some girl with a short temper. I mean, I do have a temper, but I also know I can prove I belong here. “No, I was just telling the truth.” I don’t look back, I don’t stop. I’m afraid if I do, this whole thing will be over before it started. *** Laying on Camden’s hard chest, I stare out the window. His fingers lazily graze along my back, and the fingers on my left hand absentmindedly draw circles on his pec, as if I’m drawing a work of art on his silky skin. We didn’t have sex. As soon as we got in the room, we both stripped and climbed under the crisp sheets of the hotel bed and just laid here. All I wanted was to be next to him. My mind too far gone to even think about sex. “You did good today,” he whispers, his voice husky from the thick silence. “I didn’t know what to say or do. I feel… I just want to fight, you know,” I reply, still staring out the window. His chest rises, as an exhale slowly spills from him.

“I know, but it’s a part of it. You need to make sure this is what you want, because if you win… this part of the process, the lights and cameras, it’s going to get worse.” His hand stops as he speaks from experience. “I know,” I mutter under my breath. Using my hands I push myself up, and look down at him. His hair is a mess from laying on it. Trailing my fingers along his abdomen I come across the scar. I trace it with the pad of my finger. “Why won’t you tell me what happened?” I ask, flicking my eyes to his. “Is this why you don’t want to compete anymore?” Growing irritated, he grabs me by the hips and sets me to the side as if I weigh next to nothing, my breasts jiggling from the movement. I bite at my lip to keep from getting angry. I wish he’d just tell me already. “Why won’t you trust me? Is it because you think I’ll leave again? Is it that bad?” I push. He jerks his head my way, his brows pulled together. The look of pain that crosses his face I know I hit the nail on the head. He doesn’t want to tell me because he thinks I’ll leave. Reaching out, I caress his arm. “I’m not going anywhere Camden.” “It’s not just that. The way you look at me now, I’m afraid you won’t look at me the same.” “I love your kind of crazy.” He sits up on the bed, his fingers tugging his hair. “I can’t tell you everything, because I can’t—” “Can’t, or won’t?” I interrupt. Letting his hands fall from his hair, he tilts his head and gives me a look that makes my toes curl. “Can’t,” he deadpans. “I was in a fight, and it went horribly wrong.” He looks down at his hands, his mind in a different place. “More than blood escaped me that day. Something evil, something I never thought I was capable of.” “Like what?” My voice light, almost scared to ask. He slowly glances my way, and I instantly regret asking. “I killed someone.” I hold my breath, my eyes widening. Surely I didn’t hear him right. “You… killed someone?” Shivers run up my back repeating the words. He looks back down, flexing his fingers. It’s as if he’s back in that fight, replaying it all out. He looks broken. “Yes. I killed someone.” I look the other way, closing my eyes. My mind races, trying to think if I ever heard anything on TV about it but nothing pops up. “Was it on TV? I never heard anything about it.” “No, it was a private fight and everything was covered up.” The way he snaps his reply, I know he’s about done talking about the subject.

“So that is why you won’t get back in the ring,” I more state than ask. “I was lined up for another fighter shortly after that one, but when I got in the octagon, I didn’t feel like I had when I stepped foot into it before. It felt like a cage. I felt like an animal. When my opponent walked into the cage, I wanted to rip him apart.” He stops, and I glance his way, finding hooded eyes staring right at me. I cross my arms, not sure what to say. I never thought Camden was capable of murder. “They say when you kill someone, the second time is a lot easier… They were right.” His voice is laced with malicious intent, almost like he gets off on the idea of hurting someone, and I have to admit it scares me. Quickly he maneuvers over me, his body hovering above mine until I have no choice but to lay flat on the mattress. “I knew then that I couldn’t be in a cage again and not kill someone. It was one of the hardest things I had to do, next to letting you go. So I drank, and I sabotaged my career.” My hand raises, and I palm his face. He closes his eyes, nestling into my hand. “I don’t think you’re a bad person Camden,” I whisper. His eyes pop open, and he grabs my hand, stopping my tender caress. “That’s because you weren’t the other person in the ring with me.” My eyes narrow, my heart thudding in my chest. “I know you, and I know you don’t want to hurt anyone.” He smirks. “You knew a boy. I’m a fucking man now, don’t confuse the two. Understand?” He tilts his head to the side, and his large hand grabs my thigh, wrapping it around his waist. His hips thrust forward and his hard length presses into my clit just right. He pushes forward and his length spreads me open, filling me to the brink. “Camden Fucking Steele, celebrity by day, murderer by night.” He drives his length into me so hard a moan spills from my throat as pressure builds in my toes and coils up my legs. My fingers fly at the sheets, clawing them as pleasure quickly spreads up my limbs like wild fire. The idea that Camden is a murderer fades as quickly as it came. He fists my hair with one hand, his other grabbing my bare tit like a lifeline. His fingers pressing into the soft skin so hard it bruises. I breathe in the pain, and moan out a mewl of satisfaction. “Yeah, you like that?” He pumps into me hard, my tits bouncing. “You want to know why you couldn’t move on and be with anyone else? Because nobody can fill your dark desires like I can.” His voice is laced with need, with anger, as he continues to fuck me. I don’t answer him. I couldn’t if I wanted to. I didn’t think I wanted this; that I was too unfocused to feel anything, but I was wrong. This is just what I needed. Sex. Hard, hot, sex. He releases my breast, and cups me right above my collarbone. My eyes pop open in panic

finding hooded eyes looking right at me as Camden hovers over me. “Trust me?” I swallow, my heart racing. I do trust Camden, I always have, but we’ve never taken it this far in the bedroom before. Him revealing his darkest secrets to me, I bet he’s worried I don’t trust him. He’s testing me. One thing he should know about me, is I don’t back down so easily. “I trust you.” “Tap my shoulder if it becomes too much,” he tells me rather than asks, and I’m not going to lie, a little bundle of nerves release themselves in my stomach. Leaning down he kisses me hard, his tongue filling my mouth and taking the fear with it. His hand on my neck he pulls his mouth from mine, and thrusts his hips into me hard. “No more childhood crushes and whispering sweet nothings, Tate. You left and I became a broken monster who circles a gym daily… waiting for the chance to be released. A beast that is in between your legs, and will be damned if you leave me again.” The grip on my neck tightens, not to the point I can’t breathe, but enough that my body tingles with awareness. Fear driving my want for more, I arch my neck into his hold. His perfect lips form into a smirk as he tightens his grip a little more. The rush of excitement settles between my legs, as Camden takes control of my body. “We’re not so different though. When you let me in between your legs I discovered Tatum Davis was a saint looking to get fucked hard.” My chest burns, my head lightens, and warmth blazes through me as I come harder than I ever have. A guttural roar vibrates his chest as he comes. His body stiffens and he shoves his face into the crook of my neck. His hand releasing my neck and scratching down my arms. A trail of red streaks left behind their wake, as he falls from his euphoric high. We lay there, him on me, and me panting underneath for what seems like forever. At some point my arm reached around, and I began slowly tracing circles along his back in a sense of comfort. A lot has happened in the four years I have been gone. He’s right, he’s not the guy I left behind. He’s a man, a broken one at that. Sadly, I think I like this version of Camden better. “Well, now you know,” he whispers. Sliding my hand into his hair, I pull on it just enough to make him face me. “I don’t love you any less, if anything… I love you more.” His brows pinch together in confusion. “Why would you want to be with someone like me? I have urges to kill people, I’m not… I’m not normal.” “I’m more afraid of those who claim to be normal. I love you and your madness Camden, conformity is an illusion, you are real.” He smashes his lips to mine. His mouth working mine like magic, and instantly I know I have

nothing to fear with Camden. He may be broken, but I am the adhesive to keeping him together. I can feel it in the way he kisses me, the way he looks at me, the way his heart beats against my chest when he fucks me. I know it, because he’s the glue to my broken reality too. Without each other, we’re destined to fail. It’s fate’s way of keeping us together. I palm his face, making him look me in the eye. “You know what I think your problem is? You’re stuck in the past and can’t move forward, Camden. You have to forgive yourself, grieve, and move on.” He shakes his head, pulling my hand from his. “I can’t, hell I don’t even know where to begin if I wanted to.” His voice is raw, his eyes pained as they find mine. “You do, you’re just afraid, Camden.” His eyes flash in knowing. The ring is the only place Camden can let his ghost free. He breaks eye contact, and lays his head on my chest. “I can’t, it’s not safe.” My brows raise, my heart beating painfully for him. I wish I could take all his pain away, and show him the way to forgiveness. Sadly, that’s a road he’ll have to find himself.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Camden Tate sits on a wooden bench, her foot tapping the floor as she wrings her hands anxiously. Pre-fight jitters. They’re the worst, and will call your fight before you even step foot in the ring. Reba pulls and tugs on Tate’s blonde hair, braiding it into cornrows along her scalp. It’s protocol to have your hair tightly braided to keep from injury inside the ring. Tate winces, and scratches at her head as Reba continues to jostle her head around. I remember how much those damn things itched and hurt when my hair was considered a hazard. I don’t miss them. Pulling the door to her locker open I open a gym bag I packed, and pull out an old school Walkman. Kneeling in front of her, I place an earbud in her left ear and she flinches aggressively, like she didn’t even notice I was in the room. “Easy.” I pinch my brows together. “You’re too wound up, babe. This will help.” I place the other earbud in her ear. “A Walkman? You know they have iPods and stuff now.” She eyes the tape player with a smirk on her face. “I’ve had it since I was a kid, it’s never let me down in getting my head where it needs to be. It’s yours now.” I press play, and hand it to her. “Eye Of The Tiger” by Survivor echoes through the headphones. Debs walks in the room, her hands on her hips. “She ready?” Reba wipes her hands off on a white rag. “I don’t know, she’s really nervous,” Reba exhales on a long breath. “She will be,” I mutter. “She better be,” Debs snaps, her tone of voice hitting me wrong. “Why don’t you back off? This is a lot of pressure for a first fight Debs,” I bark. Reba gives Debs and I an off look and leaves. “I’m getting a soda, when I get back, she better be more relaxed than that.” Debs points at Tate. I grab the roll of tape, kneel in between Tate’s knees, and start wrapping it around her wrists and hands. Her eyes find mine, her face serious, revealing how vulnerable she is right now. I feel more connected to her than ever after telling her everything. I can’t lie though, being here has me on edge. My heartbeat has been rising by the minute, and every time I close my eyes I see Bret lifeless on the ground.

Maybe Tate was right, if I want to lay my demons to rest… I need to take them to where I most fear them. The ring. A knock sounds at the door that breaks mine and Tate’s connection. “Dad?” Tate’s face brightens with surprise. “You didn’t think I’d miss your first fight did you?” Her dad Nicky wraps his arms around her, bringing her in for a big hug. “Camden got your sister and I last minute tickets.” Tate’s eyes flick to mine in appreciation, and I shrug. Any man would do it. I know how important it is to Tate having her Dad’s approval.

Tate My eyes fill with unshed tears as I stare at my father, the look of something I haven’t seen in a long time flashing in his eyes. Pride. He’s proud of me. He cups my cheeks, making me look him in the eyes. “This is in your blood, Tate. Do what you were made to do.” He kisses my forehead, and walks out. A single tear escapes my eye, trailing down my cheek. I have to win this fight. Glancing to my right I find Camden smiling at me, knowing how much this moment means to me. “Thank you,” my voice cracks, and more tears spill from my eyes. He shrugs, “Anyone would do it.” I laugh. “No, they wouldn’t.” That’s how I know I have won already. No man assumes to bring his girlfriend’s family to her first fight. It speaks volumes of the man Camden is. I sit down on the hard bench and place the earbuds back in one by one. The reality of the situation weighing down on my shoulders once again. I shake my hands out, close my eyes, and inhale a calming breath. Damn I hope this gets easier. “Tate, it’s time,” Debs announces, poking her head through the door. I pull the earbuds from my ears and stand. My heart is racing, adrenaline making me feel wide awake and ready. I can do this. This is my fight. This is in my blood. Camden grabs my shoulders and rubs tightly. “Show that bitch whose ring she just stepped into Tate,” he whispers into my ear. My brows furrow, and I nod. He pats my back. “Go knock her ass out.” I’m escorted back stage where a black curtain hangs. The announcer shouts my name and stats to the cheering crowd, which considering I have no stats, I sound ridiculous. Apprehension and excitement rush through me. This is happening, this is really happening.

“Go!” Debs shoves me, and I push past the curtains, body guards and my team right behind me. Lights blind me, and fog clouds the floor. The smell of food, sweat, and perfume overwhelming. My walkout song so loud I can barely hear the crowd and announcer. “Bitch Better Have My Money” by Rihanna. I smile, knowing Camden picked it for me. Approaching the cage, my back begins to sweat. My heart pounding so hard it’s all I hear. Nearing the octagon I’m stopped by the UFFL sanctioned cut man. He’s skinny, and bald. His black shirt sporting the UFFL logo, paired with black shorts. He grabs my shoulders positioning me where he wants me. Using his right hand he dabs at the black glove containing a glob of Vaseline between his thumb and index finger. He smears the goo along my eyebrows and nose, sealing my pores to the point they can’t breathe. It reminds me of the time I tried to wear makeup. He steps back, and another man that is much larger grabs my hands. He feels along my knuckles before turning them and inspecting my palms. He feels behind my ears and neck before giving a curt nod and turning away. Debs breaks protocol, grabbing me by the arm. “Remember what Camden taught you, and don’t make me regret this!” She shoves me toward the octagon roughly. Full of aggression, I shove her back and the crowd erupts with excitement. “Fuck you,” I slur around my mouth guard. She steps forward her face pinched together in anger like she actually wants to hit me. I jut my chin, wanting her to do something and one of the bodyguards steps in between us, separating us. I climb into the ring, and circle the cage, getting a feel for it. The floor is soft, cool beneath the pads of my feet despite the hot lights boring down on me. The crowd boos more than cheers, and anxiety tries to poison my outlook. “You got this,” I whisper to myself. This is it. If I screw this up, I’ll fall to the bottom and have to climb out harder than anyone else. “Here she comes ladies and gentlemen. The one everyone has been waiting for, Kiki! Queen! Kong!!!” The speakers blare her name, and the crowd erupts into a wave of cheers. I step to my side of the ring, jumping on my feet to keep my muscles warm. Keep your hands up. Jab her in the chin, and right hook her. I tell myself, trying to remember everything Camden told me about Kiki, her weaknesses. She can deliver a strong hit, but she can’t take them. She climbs into the ring, her hair in cornrows. The referee steps forward, calling us to tap gloves. Raising my glove Kiki punches it unnecessarily hard. My eyes widen, my jaw opening with the amount of disrespect she has displayed publicly. “Lets get it on!” the referee declares.

Instantly Kiki circles me like a lion. Keeping light on my toes I start walking, trying to keep ahead of her. She strikes, and instinctively I duck, and jab her in the stomach. She twists, and jumps to the side, my hit doing nothing as far as damage. My head whips back, a blow to the side of head coming out of nowhere. My brow stings, and my heart pounds against my chest as pain begins to blossom across my face. She grabs ahold of me, and slams me against the cage. She kicks at my legs, trying to take me to the ground. I lock my knees, and try to stay on my feet as much as I can. Using one of her hands that is wrapped around me tightly, she jabs it into my ribs. Fuck that hurts! Closing my eyes I turn my head, trying to breathe through the pain. Slowly I open them, and see Camden gripping the cage so hard his knuckles are white. He looks like a madman, as if he’s about to climb in this cage and kill Kiki himself. I can do this. Sucking in a quick breath I shove Kiki off me with every muscle I have. She throws a left kick, and I jump sideways, her foot nearly colliding with my face. Side stepping her kick, I grapple her to the floor. She fights for side control, but I don’t give up. I keep my legs closed together so she can’t get in between them, and I keep my head tucked next to her neck. Ding ding ding. The bell goes off, declaring round one over. Getting off of Kiki, she shoves me hard. Biting my mouth guard I shove her back, and the crowd goes crazy at the hostility. The referee ushers me to my corner where a stool and my team await. I sit on the hard wooden stool, and Debs runs a rag over my face, Camden giving me water. “You’re doing great. Just keep your hands up to block her blows. Watch for her to drop her hands, and when she does, knock her fucking lights out!” The referee declares our time’s up, and Camden helps me up. The break not near long enough, my throat still dry I long for more water. Centering the ring, Kiki looks refreshed and ready to pound me into the floor. The bell rings, I inhale a long breath through my nose to prepare myself. Kiki instantly starts circling me, and I follow. I jab at her, hitting her in the nose perfectly. Her brows furrow as her face grows two shades of purple. Her legs whips out from under her, and kicks me in the side of the head. My ears ring, and my head throbs. I notice her hands are at her side, not blocking her face, pushing my discomfort aside, I go in. Getting up close her eyes widen as she realizes her mistake in not keeping her hands up. I lay a one two combo into her face, one punch after another. Her head whips back from the force, and she

stumbles backwards. This is my opening! Quickly I lay a right hook into the side of her face and she falls to her hands and knees. Get her. It’s now or never! I drop to the floor, straddling her body. My heart racing with so much adrenaline I feel high. I slam my fists and elbows into her face, not letting up. My fists flying, and popping her anywhere I see skin. She stops resisting but I don’t quit laying into her. I can’t, not until the referee calls it. Blood stains my fingers as I continue to strike. Pain driving me towards victory. The crowd screams, and the referee grabs me by the shoulders, pulling me off her. Kiki rolls back and forth covering her face, and her coach and a medic enter the ring and assess her injuries. Camden races into the ring and picks me up over his shoulder, and slaps my ass! “You fucking did it!!” Setting me down on both feet, I watch as Kiki’s team help her up. She’s looks a mess. Her face is purple and bloody, and the white of her eyes have popped blood vessels everywhere. We’re both ushered to the middle of the ring and the referee grabs my arm and raises it. “Winner by knock out, Tatum ‘HellCat’ Davis!” The crowd screams in excitement, their earlier boos a lost whisper. Camden grabs my face with both hands and kisses me hard in front of everyone. I didn’t think the audience could get any louder, but they do. Cameras flash from all over and in that moment I can say that I am the happiest, luckiest woman in the world. Releasing my lips from his, I open my eyes, and the world sets back into place. A tap on my shoulder catches my attention and I turn finding a bloody faced Kiki. “Good fight Kiki.” Her brows narrow, her lips pursed. “You got lucky! I want a rematch, and when I do I’ll wipe the octagon with you,” she threatens. “Anytime.” I smile, saluting her out of the ring. My vision goes upside down, as Camden throws me over his shoulder and hauls me off the stage. The crowd cheers my name. My name! I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face if I tried to. Once behind stage there’s cameras and random people standing by my locker room. Camden sets me down, gripping my hand tightly. “Shit,” he mumbles. “Stay close.” He weaves us through the crowd, people yelling for me to sign this, or asking me questions on how I became an overnight success. Once inside the locker room Camden turns and locks the doors. He swipes his hands through his

hair, and eyes me wildly. “You did it. You fucking did it.” He smiles big. “I’ll admit you had me worried for a minute there.” He steps forward and cups my face, focusing on my eyebrow. “We should get that cleaned up and bandaged.” A knock sounds at the door, and Camden strides toward it, opening it a crack before widening. “I knew you had it in you,” Debs smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. I can’t help but roll my eyes as she starts to unwrap my hands. “I’m going to go get the car and make sure it’s clear. Don’t let anyone in here Debs,” Camden informs, pointing sternly at her. She doesn’t respond as she continues to take the wrap off my hands. Silence fills the locker room, and I wonder if I should address what happened before the fight. A light rhythmic knock sounds at the door, and Debs nearly breaks her neck trying to get up. “Camden said not to let anyone in,” I remind her. “You will want to talk to this person Tate.” She looks over her shoulder, an unreadable look on her face as she opens the door. The hall is miraculously cleared, and a tall clean cut woman steps in. She’s wearing a black dress with killer heels, her hair as perfect as her face. “Who are you?” I scrunch my face in question. She smiles a bleached grin, and perfectly manicured brow arching. “I’m Silvia Machen, the CEO of MFC, and I have a proposition for you Tate.” My gaze flicks to Debs, and she nods approvingly. “Um, okay,” I mutter unsure. “I’m in charge of potential fighters in the MFC, bringing them the best of the fighters around the world,” Silvia informs, pacing in front of the door. My heart skips a beat, thinking she wants me to fight for the MFC. “You are familiar with the MFC right?” “Of course, I watch most of their fights since I was a kid.” She stops, a villainous smile crossing her face. “What if I told you, that those fights you watch on your television isn’t where the excitement breeds from, that it’s not the most profitable fight there is?” “I’d say I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I chuckle. The conversation feeling out of sorts. “I’m saying I have an underground octagon—” “Underground?” I interrupt. “It is black-market if you have to put a label on it. High profile celebrities and politicians seek entertainment and are often judged for it, but my underground gives them that forbidden desire

without the public eye criticizing them, and in return for disclosure they pay a hefty price. This bringing my fighters a bigger payout than the MFC you see on TV can offer.” Her calculated voice echoes through the room as she stops in front of me, her hands clasped in front of her. Money, the root of all evil, everyone needs it. I could use it to get my dad out of debt, for myself as I set forth my fighting career. “I’d say I’m listening,” I state, the words leaving my mouth cause goosebumps to race along my arms. She cups my shoulders, and I look her in the eye. “I want you to fight in my underground ring. If you accept I will pay you fifty thousand for just participating, and another million if you win.” I open my mouth to call bullshit but she continues speaking, halting the sentence sitting on my lips. “If you win, I will set up a contract for you to fight for the MFC. You will become a professional fighter Tate, just like you’ve always wanted.” She smiles, standing up straight. This seems too good to be true. Money, fame, to be at the top so quickly just for a black market fight. “What is the catch?” I raise a brow and she laughs. “She’s a smart girl.” Silvia glances at Debs, who is eating every word Silvia is spewing. “There is some fine print.” “Such as?” “Such as, you won’t know who your opponent is, and the rules of the cage are different from the ones ran by the sports committee in the MFC. There are no rounds, no times outs, and you’ll go until someone is knocked out or taps out.” I nod, letting the info set in. “We can dwell on semantics after you accept. However, there is one thing I need to make very clear.” “What is that?” “Nobody can know about The Underground, or this offer. Do. You. Under. Stand?” Her words are sharp, grabbing my attention from trying to process everything to focus on her. “The high profiles that attend these underground fights will not take lightly that of someone trying to take their secured entertainment away.” I swallow, feeling that threat to my toes. Silvia gives me a tight lipped smile and turns on her heel. “Debs, you have twenty-four hours to give me a yes or no on the deal. I hope you make the right decision, Tate.” Silvia leaves as smoothly as she came. “Take it, don’t overthink it. This is your shot at the big time, one stupid little fight and you have everything you ever wanted,” Debs’ voice cracks as she begs. “Yes, but I can’t tell Camden about it, I’d have to lie to him. I don’t think I can do that,” I explain.

She huffs. “He’s going to need you to support him if he doesn’t get his shit together and get back in the ring, Tate. Take the fucking deal, or find another coach.” She crosses her arms, leaning against the lockers. Biting my inner lip I want to tell her to go to hell. That Camden has taught me more than her, but she did get me this fight, how did she get me this fight? “Debs, how did you get me this fight, with Kiki?” She stops, her hand on the door handle. “I promised a few friends my cut if you were accepted into The Underground. Being your coach, when you are accepted into The Underground I’m granted a payout as well.” I scoff. I knew she was money hungry but I didn’t realize how deep her issues really lay. “You have gotten this far Tate, granted I’m shocked, but are you really just going to give up?”

Camden Walking back inside I find the hall outside Tate’s locker room oddly empty, a tension in the air unsettling. Quickly I make my way inside and find Tate getting dressed, and Debs leaning up against a locker casually. A chill races up my spine as Tate hits me with an unreadable look. “Everything okay?” I question, looking between Tate and Debs. Tate looks at Debs, then down at her feet before nodding. Striding toward her I pull on her elbow, making her look me in the eye. “Are you sure?” Her eyes flutter before a weak attempt of a smile crosses her face. “Nothing, I’m just really tired. The high of the fight is gone and I’m starting to feel everything.” Suddenly feeling like an ass for thinking she’s not telling me the truth, I let her go and rub at my chin. “Lets get you to the hotel, has the medic looked her over?” I question Debs, ready to take Tate back to our room and pamper her. “Yeah, she’s fine.” Debs waves me off. “Tate, that was some fight my girl!” Tate’s father Nick cheers with amusement as he pushes his way through the room. Tate lights up, and I can’t help but smile for her. “I knew you had it in you kid. Look, your sister wasn’t feeling so well so she’s outside in the car but I wanted to come tell you how proud I am.” He gives her chin a love tap with his hand. “You got that south paw from your old man.” Her eyes fill with tears, and I want so bad to comfort her but I don’t. I let her have her moment. “We should get going,” Debs states after Nick leaves the room. “Yeah, lets go. I’m exhausted,” Tate mutters, grabbing her gym bag.

“Let me get that,” I insist, grabbing her bag, because Debs is fucking worthless when it comes to compassion.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Tate Standing in front of the hotel window I stare out at the night with a bed sheet wrapped tightly around my body. The city continues to move and live even at the late hour. A couple crosses the highway, holding each other ’s hands as they race and laugh across the busy streets. I smirk, wondering what is going on their lives. What secrets they’re holding, what problems they’re trying to overcome. Maybe they have none. Maybe they’re completely happy and stupid. I press my sore hand against the cold glass, the heat from my palm fogging the window. My heart is telling me not to take the fight, but my head is telling me to take it. My parents’ house comes into mind and my heart aches. This is my only chance at keeping the house. Even if I lose, it’ll be enough to help. My whole life I’ve been told how I need to act like a lady, and girls don’t fight. I can’t give up now, not when I have a lot more motherfuckers to prove wrong. She said I can’t tell Camden. I roll my eyes, I know that’ll never work. Once I get the money he’ll ask how I got it, and I can’t lie to him again. Lies breed more lies. My head falls, unsure of what to do. If I tell him about the fight, he won’t let me do it. He’ll tell me it’s too dangerous, or unprofessional. I wonder if this was like the fight he was in when he was stabbed. Warm arms wrap around my waist, startling me. “I can hear you thinking, why aren’t you sleeping? Are you hurting?” His voice husky and tickling my ear I can tell he wants me. I turn in his hold, and cup his face with my hands, the sheets still around my body. “I’m a little sore, but I just can’t sleep in hotels.” I don’t completely lie. He kisses my nose. “Come on, let’s get back to bed, we have an early flight back home.” Climbing into bed with him, I lay on his chest like he likes. He quickly falls asleep, and I grab my phone off the end table and find Debs’ contact info. My fingers hesitating over the keys for just a second before finally typing: I’m in. If anyone can do this, why not me?

Chapter Twenty-Six

Tate Looking over the NDA my head spins. Party A, and provisions all sounding the same. “Do I get a copy of this?” I ask, thumbing the pages that seem to go on forever. “Yes.” Debs huffs giving me more papers to read and sign. “Just make sure you keep it in a vault or locked up. Silvia is not joking around when it comes to disclosure.” Sitting back in the gym’s chair I exhale looking over the papers again. “This seems sketchy, illegal even. Does the MFC know about it?” I look up at Debs who is biting her nails. “I don’t know, who cares. It gets you to the top and us rich,” she quips. I hate her outlook. There is more to the game than getting rich. “What about respect?” I ask. She eyes me like I’m crazy, and that’s how I know we are of a different breed. After this fight, I think I need to find another coach. The doors to the gym open, blowing posters along the wall everywhere. Someone’s here. Quickly I push my copy of the NDA and rules in my gym bag and stand. “When is the fight?” I whisper, my body temperature rising that we might get caught talking about it. “Three weeks. We’ll catch a flight to Nashville, TN.” “Three weeks! That is not enough time for me to heal in between fights.” I can’t help but raise my voice. Debs glances out the office door, noticing Cate sorting her vegetables for her morning smoothie. Debs shuts the door and arches a brow. “Look, I know just about as much as you do. Luckily for you you’re not too banged up so three weeks should be fine. My guess is they make it quick between signing the NDA and the fight so you don’t over think it and back out, and less time for you to open your mouth,” she informs, her hand still on the office door. I rub at my forehead anxiously. Why am I not backing out of this? So many red flags are waving, but for some reason it’s not enough for me to back out. I want the money to help my dad and sister, but I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge either. “I know of fighters that have done this Tate. It’s an honor to even be asked to participate, take the opportunity and seize the moment. She wouldn’t have asked you if she didn’t think you were ready.”

Anger rushes through me to where spots appear in my vision. “It’s not that I don’t think I can do this, it’s just a lot of secrets I don’t feel comfortable with.” “If this is about you not telling Camden, just know that we all have a story we never tell.” She taps her nail on the door before leaving. I sink back into my chair as my fingers fumble with my bottom lip. I remember when I was little my dad telling a local newspaper that fighters have three lives: a public life, a private life, and a secret life. I used to wonder what secrets my father held, but as I’m stepping into his shoes I think I’m starting to find out.

Camden Sitting on the bench I watch Tate as she jump ropes, I told her to take a few days off to heal but she insists that she keeps training. She’s wearing some blue work out shorts, and a large yellow shirt with the arms cut off. Her blonde hair falling from her loose ponytail with every jump. I don’t know how she can make the simplest of clothes look like she took hours to perfect, but she does. “Will you stop staring at my tits like that?” she asks between jumps. I cock a smirk. “When you have tits like you do, it’s like a vortex baby. They just suck me right in.” Raising my arms I display how my sight zeros in on her delectable chest, and she laughs. She stops jumping, dropping the rope to the ground. She seems off today, in fact she’s seemed off the last few days. I feel like she isn’t telling me something, but I can’t keep asking. I’ll look like a pussy. “You want to eat?” I ask. “No, I’m good.” I raise a brow. “I was thinking about getting pizza, when is the last time you had deep dish?” “Uh, been awhile, but I’m good.” She shrugs. Tilting my head to the side I eye her. Tate never backs down from pizza. “Are you sick?” “Do what?” She looks up me, her tone of voice indicating she has no idea what we are talking about. She hasn’t been the same and it’s starting to piss me off. Grabbing her hand roughly I pull her into me, her eyes flashing with surprise. “Do you need a good fucking? Is that what has you so unfocused and on edge? Do you need my cock?” Her cheeks warm as she looks around to see if anyone heard. Sliding my hand up her back, I fist her hair making her look me in the eyes. “Screw them, I’ll fuck you right here and let them watch if it means I can bring you back to earth.”

“I think your ego is growing faster than your dick,” she smarts, and I strengthen my hold on her hair. “Maybe you should test that out, tell me if my cock is bigger than my ego or not?” Not giving her a chance to respond I walk her backwards before opening a door that leads into a storage closet. “What are you doing?” she whispers frantically. Ignoring her I shove her inside the dark closet and pull the door shut. Light from the gym skirts under the door giving barely enough light. The room is small, filled with an old punching bag, a mop and bucket, and the broom. It smells of lemon and bleach, but it’ll do. “Camden what—” I shove her against the punching bag and her eyes flash with anger. “I see a lot of anger dwelling in those eyes baby.” Her throat bobs as she looks anywhere but at me. I grab her chin roughly making her look me in the eyes. “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” I demand. Gritting her teeth her hand collides with my cheek, a burning sensation spreading across my jaw. My cock instantly goes hard. Rubbing my cheek I slowly take my eyes from the floor to her. Silently asking her if she’s ready for a round of rough sex. “Do it,” she seethes. Verbally telling me she wants me to get rough. Not one to disappoint I fist her hair, strands snapping from the root. I smash my lips to hers, and her tongue finds mine. We kiss, suck, and nip. It’s not a slow sensual kiss, it’s wet, warm, and rough. Teeth clash, the taste of metallic filling our mouths. I can’t get enough. Her nails scratch at my back, hot breaths, and gasps the only thing to be heard in the small dark space. The handle to the mop falls hitting me in the head and I shove it behind me, not wanting to stop the fighting desire that is sparking between us. Picking her up by the thighs I slam her back against the old torn punching bag. Using my hips I pin her there and shove her shirt and bra up so her sweaty tits are at my disposal. Her hands snake up my back and fist my hair, my neck straining as she tugs it back hard. Pulling from her grip I drop my head and sink my teeth into the soft tissue of her tit. She moans, her body gyrating against my torso. Kissing the pain away, her hands push my gym shorts down just enough that my cock frees. Her small hands gliding up and down it sensually slow. The foreign feel of her hands on my length feels amazing, but I’m greedy, I want that smart mouth of hers on my cock. “Suck it,” my voice husky. Her eyes cut to mine, flashing with desire. “I want to feel your warm mouth around me.” Gripping her chin I rub circles along it before

slightly pulling so her mouth parts. Her eyes never leave mine as she slowly drops to her knees. Her small hand cupping the shaft of my cock. It feels so good a hiss slips through my teeth. On her knees her hooded eyes meet mine as she flicks the tip of my dick with her soft tongue. My balls clench as the wetness coats the head. Opening her mouth wide she sucks me inside and I hiss, the feeling of her sweet little mouth wrapped around my cock feeling like a second heaven. She bobs before gagging and I nearly blow my load. Grabbing her shoulders I pull myself from her mouth. “Jesus Christ.” She wipes her mouth, her brows furrowing as if she’s worried she did something wrong and stands. “You’re so good at that I’m about to cum, and the only thing I’m blowing my load in is your sweet cunt, baby.” Her lips turn into a shy smile. Grabbing her by the thighs I pick her up and waddle the few steps it takes to get her back against the punching bag. My shorts now around my ankles making the task much harder. Pulling her shorts to the side I swipe a finger through her lips finding her wet and ready. Positioning my cock where my finger was, I push into her, her body swelling as I fill her. Pumping my hips I don’t hold back. The mop bucket tips over, the broom falls against the door. Shit is going everywhere as I pound into her. She fingers my hair, her head lolling back in ecstasy as I take her to the brink of pleasure. She moans and I instantly cup her mouth. My ass muscles straining while I thrust into her as hard as her body can take. “Shh,” I whisper as sweat drips down my forehead. Using my free hand I slide it in between us and thumb her clit. Boom. Her eyes roll in the back of her head and her body trembles. She clamps down on my dick, and that warmth builds into an inferno as I come seconds after. “I’ll grab the mop!” Cate’s voice muffles through the door and both Tate and me freeze. The door swings open, and Tate’s face pales as I’m sure Cate just got an eye full. Using my body I try and shield Tate from anyone seeing her. “Oh shit!” Cate slams the door. Tate’s face scrunches in humiliation, as I slip out of her. I can’t help but smile. Pulling my pants up, Tate situates herself.

“So, what’s bigger my ego, or my dick?” I peer up at her under hooded eyes. “Wipe that smug look off your face,” she snaps. Laughing, I shrug. “I told you, I’d fuck you and let them watch as long as I got your head out of the clouds and back here with me baby.” Grabbing the nape of her neck, I force her to look up at me and she averts her eyes. I can’t help but feel she is hiding something from me. It angers me, and she’s stupid if she doesn’t think I’ll find out. “I don’t know what you’re hiding, but I’m going to find out.”

Tate Three weeks come and go. It’s not been easy keeping this from Camden or my family. It’s killing me. I feel like shit, and have almost told Camden on more than one occasion, but then I fear maybe something bad would happen to them if they did know. Thankfully with all the training I’ve been doing with Camden, and fucking, his mission of trying to figure out what I’m hiding has faded. I love being close to Camden when we’re naked and in bed, but it’s a mere Band-Aid to the guilt eating me from the inside out. Paranoia has me on edge, and constantly angry. I can’t keep doing this. I’m going to tell Camden about the Underground when I get back. I have to. I love him and don’t want this to come between us. I don’t want to lose him again. Not over this. “You ready?” Debs asks grabbing her suitcase from the conveyer belt. The sound of airplanes and idle chit chat from the airport near deafening. I inhale a ragged breath and grab my bags as well. “As I’ll ever be.” Nashville is hot, and … full of boots. So many cowboy and cowgirl boots. Everywhere you turn there’s country music. I wish Camden were here to witness it. It’s different from Chicago that is for sure. I cringe thinking about Camden, guilt rushing over me like a tidal wave. I just want to get this over with. “Are we staying at a hotel?” I ask Debs, not sure what the itinerary is. Seems we are given information only as we need it. “Nope, we are to arrive at The Underground and fight and go home. You being with Camden your face is well known, and Silvia doesn’t want someone spotting you,” she informs. I nod, thankful this will be a quick trip. “Ok, so where is The Underground?” I question, hoping she knows because I don’t. “I’m not sure, a driver is supposed to pick us up and take us there, so keep an eye out,” Debs replies looking around the airport parking lot. Pursing my lips in thought I look out and find a black

car with a driver standing with a sign that reads “Davis”. “There,” I point. Debs starts strutting that way as soon as she spots him. “Morning Mrs. Davis. I’m Ervin, and will be driving you to The Underground. Can I help you with your things?” the man asks, his voice rough and deep. He seems older, but looks tough as nails. His eyes are sharp, his face as toned as his body. I’d think he was young if it weren’t for the gray in his beard and eyebrows. “Sure.” I hand him my bag. He gives a curt nod before grabbing Debs’ things and mine and heading to the back of the car. We ride out of the airport and away from the city. The further we get, the fewer city lights there are. It’s pitch black out my window, and I haven’t seen a car drive by in the last twenty minutes. “Where are we?” I whisper to Debs, but she ignores me looking out of her window. My nails dig into my palm, and my heart races so hard I can hear my heart beat. I’m freaking out. This was such a bad idea. Finally Ervin pulls the car into a paved driveway that leads down a long path. A tall dark building comes into view over a hill. Sitting on the edge of my seat I find some of the nicest cars parked in rows, and limos everywhere. Nerves bundle in my stomach as my phone rings for the sixth time since we’ve been in the car. Pulling it from my pocket I glance at the caller - Camden. My fingers hover over answering it, but fear takes over him knowing just yet and I silence it. Closing my eyes, my heart sinks with guilt as I shove it back in my pocket. “Good girl,” Debs whispers looking over my shoulder. I glare at her, conveying how much I don’t need her two cents. Upon driving closer to the building I notice it’s an old tire company. It looks abandoned and old. My brows furrow in curiosity as to how a fight will be held in such a place. Ervin pulls past some guards, giving them a tip of the hat and they step aside. These are guards you wouldn’t usually see at a fighting event. These guys are dangerous looking. One has a shaved head with tattoos inked along his scalp and neck. The other ’s muscles so big he has to be on steroids as the fabric of his black shirt looks like it belongs to a toddler. Driving by them I notice the black shiny guns placed snugly on their hips and I break into a nervous sweat. The car stops and the doors open before I can scout out where we are exactly. Getting out, two guys dressed in black grab our bags from the trunk. “Ms. Davis follow these gentlemen and good luck,” Ervin smiles, and gets back in the car. I watch him, debating if I should get back in that car and tell him to take me back to the airport. Those red flags going off in my head are now sirens, screaming for me to high tail it out of here.

“Come on,” Debs shoves my shoulder. “We need to get moving so we can get you set up.” I pull my gaze from the car that is now leaving and glare at Debs. “Don’t touch me again,” I threaten. I’m pent up with so much aggression from keeping this shit secret I’m in no mood to be messed with. One of the guys with short blonde hair and a face you wouldn’t remember, pounds on a gray metal door, and it opens. Inside there’s a long cylinder hallway that goes on for what seems like forever. The lights are dim, and the smell of mold overwhelming. My feet kick what looks like brick dust as we follow, leaving prints behind. My face frowns in disgust as I try to step around the muck. The men stop, opening another metal door. One of them holds the door open, not making eye contact. Debs walks in, and I follow suit. The locker room has one lone locker in the back, and a metal bench sitting in front of it. The toilet is sitting to the left with no walls or doors for privacy. It looks like something that belongs in a prison. “So it’s not the best of conditions, but I’ve seen fighters start out worse and get paid nothing.” Debs tosses the gym bag on the floor, and starts pulling out the tape. Placing my hands on the back of my neck I blow a breath through hollowed cheeks. I’m anxious, and second guessing all of this. I can do this. Can I do this? I feel like without Camden standing ringside I’m doomed to fail. I need him cheering me on. I need him by my fucking side. Not just as my lover, but my fucking coach. A knock sounds at the door and I jeer. Fuck I’m on edge. Silvia walks in. Her hair sleek and trim, her body shoved into an expensive black dress. She reminds me of a Black Widow. “Tatum, so happy to have you.” Her smile is fake as she sashays inside the locker room. I don’t respond as I grab my bag to switch into my fighting gear. “I just want to remind you that whether you lose or win this fight you signed a NDA and you are not to speak or discuss of this fight.” I glance up. “I know the rules,” I reply dry. “Right, I just want to make sure you know that you’re dealing with the some of the top profiles in the country.” With her monotone you’d think she read that off the inside of her palm. “The people bidding here tonight rather enjoy their entertainment in The Underground and will not take threats

lightly. If their entertainment is at risk of someone breaking the only rule we have, they may… shall we say… do what comes natural to them.” My eyes flick to hers as anger begins to fill my veins for the evening. “You mean someone might kill me if I tell someone?” “Oh I’m sure they’re much more creative than that.” A sly smile crosses her face, as my heart skips a beat. That is exactly why I didn’t want to tell Camden. I feared for his life. “Don’t break the rules, and you’ll be fine,” she quips. Biting my cheek, Camden sets heavy on my mind, a question I’ve wanted so bad to ask him but can’t because I’ll be disclosing that I myself am fighting in The Underground. “One question, did Camden Steele fight in The Underground?” Slowly I lift my head as I ask my question. His fight seemed sketchy, like this one. A tight lipped smile crosses her tight face, her eyes flashing with the answer as she replies. “I can’t disclose that information.” But she already did with the look on her face. This is the fight that Camden killed someone in, the one that ruined his career. That ruined him. “Got it,” I mutter. Sitting on the bench I rest my elbows on my knees, the pre-fight jitters getting run over as fear begins to strike up a storm in my chest. I could die here tonight. Hell, I could kill someone tonight. “Who am I fighting?” my voice cracks with fear. She smiles so big wrinkles form around her eyes. “You’ll see… and good luck Mrs. Davis, and remember. All is fair in fighting and surviving.” Camden Pissed that Tate hasn’t even texted me back I throw the fucking phone across the gym as a roar erupts through my throat. “Dude, what the fuck?” Cate lifts her hands up as she eyes my shattered phone. Swiping my hands through my hair I exhale an angry breath. “I can’t find Tate anywhere and she’s not answering her phone,” I inform frantically. I know she didn’t leave town because all of her stuff is still at my place and her dad’s place. So where the fuck is she? Cate’s eyes flick to the left way too quickly. Her parted mouth and sudden tension telling me she knows something. “Do you know where she is?” I ask more aggressively than I intended. She rubs at her forehead. “Look, I heard Debs and Tate talking the other day and I heard she was fighting in a place in Nashville—” “A fight?” I step forward my heart skipping a beat. I didn’t hear anything about a fight, surely Tate would have told me, why would she not?

“Yeah, an underground one or something. I thought you knew so that is why I didn’t think twice about it.” Like a lightning bolt to the chest a rush of energy spreads through my arms as my world spins. My heart beating so wildly I think I may erupt into the fucking antichrist right where I stand. “What else, what else did you hear?!” I have to ball my hands into fists from reaching out and shaking the information from Cate. “That’s all I heard man,” she shrugs. My eyes land on Thomas’s office. If Tate is with Debs, then Thomas knows where Debs is. Pushing past Cate I kick open Thomas’s door and he nearly falls from his desk chair from the sudden noise. Not giving him a chance to recoil I grab him by the throat and lift him from his seat, slamming him against the wall. Rage pounds in the vessels in my neck. “Where the fuck is she?” I seethe. His eyes flash with fear as he claws at my tightening grip. “Camden, I don’t—” “WHERE!” I squeeze so hard his jugular may snap beneath my fingers. “She deserves her shot too, just like—” Keeping a tight grip on him I wipe the desk using his head. The contents flying across his shitty office. The violence doing nothing to settle the fire building in my chest. “Debs said an old tire company just outside of Nashville, that’s all I know!” his voice cracks from his bruised throat. I point at him. “I warned you both not to put Tate in that fucking underground.” “I love Debs, but she was hell-bent on getting Tate in that fucking underground, son,” Thomas tries to explain, but I ain’t hearing it. “Don’t fucking call me that! If you didn’t open your fucking mouth about The Underground to Debs, this never would have happened!” His brows furrow as he stares at me with confused eyes. “Camden, I never told Debs, she already knew about The Underground.” “How?” Only people that know are those who are bidding, fighting, or coaching. He shakes his head. “I don’t know, but she did.” Not having time to dive into this I grab my keys, and text Kaley to find me a flight to Nashville and now. Pulling up the browser on my phone I Google every tire company outside of Nashville as I speed to the airport. I have to find her and stop her before she enters that cage.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Tate My hands are taped up, and I feel so wound up that walking takes more thought than it should. I feel sick. I can’t tell if it’s from the fight or the betrayal of not telling Camden where I am weighing heavy on me. I close my eyes, thinking of the money I’m going to win, how my Dad will keep the house and maybe I can get Journey some help, maybe she’ll even want to go to college. Opening my eyes I blow out a ragged breath. I’m not going to die. I’m not going to die. My walkout music plays, and I’m pushed on the lower back. “Fucking win me some money!” The metal door unlocks and the two men that showed us in await me. Stepping out they start walking, and I follow. They lead me out of one cylinder tunnel to another. The dim lights passing one by one as I finally meet the end of the cove. The space opens up similar to one of an arena but I can’t see much. I see tinted privacy boxes at the very top, and I can see a crowd of people but I can’t make out faces from the smog and smoke circling the air like death gypsies waiting for me to inhale my last breath. Slowly I keep walking and the visibility gets worse, the smell gets worse. Musty mold mixed with expensive perfume and cigar smoke choke me. The ground beneath my bare feet becoming dirty and slimy. Finding the ring I notice a man wearing white jersey shorts and a black shirt. He’s large and looks bored as he opens the door to the octagon. “Good luck,” he smiles, and pushes me in the back. What is the deal with everyone pushing me? I stall, realizing he didn’t check me for illegal substances or weapons, and didn’t apply any Vaseline to my face. I turn, ready to ask him about it, and he turns his back. Oh this is going to be bad. So bad. Shaking my hands I try to ease my nerves, breathing slow breaths as I look around the octagon. I notice blood stains that have turned orange, near brown, and my eyes widen as I rub at my forehead. Looking up I find this is not an ordinary octagon, this is a cage. There’s no escape. Fuck what have I gotten myself into? The crowd hollers as another song is played. Stepping up to the metal that makes the cage, my fingers lock in the holes and I try to look out to see who I am fighting. I wonder if she’s taller, or weighs

more. I wonder if this is even a fair fight. I hear the man who wished me good luck repeat the exact words and I turn, finding my opponent. I see dark hair. Strong shoulders. It’s a guy. My chest rises and falls quickly as he enters the cage. His head lowered he meets my gaze with haunted eyes. It’s Chase. I feel dizzy as it sets in who I’m being thrown in a cage with. Chase is going to destroy me. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy this!” his voice grave. The door to the cage is slammed shut. Then locked. I jump, and goosebumps rise along my arms. I bounce on my feet trying to heighten my adrenaline rush, but fear is hindering its way through. I can do this. I can do this. “Are you ready for a fight that will leave you at the edge of your seat?” The announcer speaks into the intercom, and the crowd goes crazy. “A fight that has never before seen between woman and man!” The crowd responds, and I roll my shoulders, accepting the challenge. I’ve always wanted to prove women belong in the ring just as much as men do. Here’s my chance. Right? “Let’s give a big round of applause to Tate ‘HellCat’ Davis, and Chase ‘Sidewinder ’ Hide!” Catcalls and applause ring out and before I can react Chase comes at me fists swinging. I duck, and deliver a strike right to his chest. My heart beating so hard it drowns out the roaring crowd. He grapples me and tries to take me down and I deliver a right cross hook right to his chin making him stumble back. My hit fast and quick. My heart is racing causing me to lose my stamina quicker than it should so I jump back and circle him. There’s no rounds, so I don’t get a break. I have to slow my pace or I’ll be out of the fight. “Aww, come on kitty kitty, I just want to play,” Chase taunts following me around the cage. His eyes flash with a primitive energy, he’s truly enjoying this. He loves this sketchy bullshit. He wants to be here. He strikes, but misses. I jab and hit him in the nose, blood trickling from his nostril. He laughs as blood pools between his lips, staining his teeth as he grins wickedly at me. Cornering me in he delivers a strike right to my rib and the wind is knocked from me. I swear my ribs crack, and the burning sensation has me double over in an amount of pain I can’t compare to anything. I try to breathe through the pain, to regain my composure but the pain is too much. He hits me again right in in the face and my eyebrow splits wide open, warm blood pouring into my view. My head rings, and my vision blurs from the strike.

My ears ring as I fumble on the ground. What the hell? His hits are hard, too hard. I look at his gloves and notice the tape around his knuckles outlining more than knuckles. Faint gold shining through split tape I realize why he’s hitting with such force. He has fucking brass knuckles on! “Hey!” I yell at the guy standing outside the ring, trying to inform him of the knuckles. I run to the other side of the ring, wiping and smearing blood from my eye from my face. “He has brass knuckles!” My voice cracking from the pain. The guy standing guard outside of the door smiles at me, and turns his back. I look back at Chase who is laughing, pacing back and forth. I’m fucked. I’m stuck in here with a monster. I have to keep my distance, anything up close and those knuckles will destroy me. I can’t give up. Even if my fear is telling me to give in, I am not leaving without a fight. Following me, he comes at me, trying to take me down and I run out of the way. Fighting ethics gone, this is about survival. He chuckles, and follows me. I swing and miss, and he takes me to the floor. He strikes me in the ribs, and the sound of the crack can be felt to my toes. I scream out in pain, but try to focus. A fist comes into view and I jerk my head to the side, the punch vibrating through my body as it hits the floor. Using all the energy I have, I jab him in the chin, and his head whips back. Lifting my legs I wrap them around him, trying to gain control and suddenly he’s pulled from me. I roll over, tears filling my eyes. Finally someone saw he had brass knuckles on and stopped the fight. I moan in pain, and fight through the blurriness that is trying to take over, finding Chase struggling on the other side of the ring. I wipe my eyes trying to clear the blood and tears, and see Camden laying into Chase relentlessly. Nobody stopped the fight. Camden stepped into the ring!

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Camden My untaped fists drive into Chase’s face one after another. So much anger and rage release through each hit, I can’t fucking stop. Each hit ricocheting from my knuckles up my wrist and forearm, the sound of skin against skin fueling me toward dominating this motherfucker. Nobody lays a hand on my woman. It’s just monster against beast now. He struggles trying to block my hits but his weak attempts are no match for my experience. His legs come up trying to wrap around me and I anchor myself on top of him, he’s not going anywhere. My vision turns red as rage takes over my original intent of being in this fucking cage. I came to protect Tate, but being in this ring the beast wants out. A feral roar rips up my throat as I grab hold of Chase’s head ready to snap his life into nothing. Chase’s mangled faces blurs into Bret’s and I clench my eyes shut. “You know what I think your problem is? You’re stuck in the past and can’t move forward Camden. You have to forgive yourself, grieve, and move on.” Tate’s words string into my mind and I freeze. My hands gripping Chase’s head, my knees pressing into the cage’s floor as I straddle him. My heart thuds against my chest, its rhythm lullabying me into wanting to end Chase’s life. But I stop. Why am I stopping? If anyone deserves to die it should be him. “Camden,” the strangled cry has me whipping my head in Tate’s direction. She’s lying on her side, blood staining her face. If anything, seeing her like that should fuel me towards ending Chase’s worthless life. But her eyes convey I don’t need to kill him that I can stand up and walk away. If there’s ever a chance of me moving past what happened with Bret and getting my life back, it’s now. I grit my teeth, and close my eyes. The emotion and anger thundering in my chest battling my decision. “Just walk away, Camden,” I mutter to myself. Opening my eyes, I throw Chase’s head on the ground and push up off my knees, standing on me feet. Flexing my fingers I step toward Tate to help her up, declaring this fight over for her. She looks up at me and her eyes flash with an unreadable look. Everything happens in slow motion.

She pushes to her feet before I can stop her and races past me. Looking over my shoulder I see Chase coming at me with brass knuckles torn through his fighting tape. He’s so close there’s no escaping the hit that is about to set forth on my face, he’s going to hit me and it’s going to hurt. Like a brick wall Tate’s fist stops Chase in the middle of a strike knocking him off his feet. Her fist colliding with his jaw perfectly he falls on his back knocked out cold. I can’t help the pride that runs through me as she just knocked that asshole out all on her own. Tate stops, bending over as her adrenaline rush fades as quickly as it came. Pain taking over her whole body. Quickly I go to her side, wrapping my arm around her waist. The need to protect her overpowering anything else going on in my head. I need to get her out of here. “WINNER BY KNOCK OUT, TATE ‘HELLCAT’ DAVIS!” the announcer shouts. Noticing how much pain Tate is in, I try to pick her up to carry her out and she stops me. “No, I’m walking out of this cage. Nobody is carrying me.” I try to fight the smirk pulling at my lips, but it’s no use. The strength this woman has blows my mind. I tuck her arm behind my neck and wrap my hand around her waist to help her hobble out. “We have a lot to talk about, Tate.”

Tate Sitting on the bench I wrap my arms around my abdomen. My ribs protesting my sitting up. My bones hurt. Breathing hurts. Everything hurts. Camden sits between my legs, his hands on either side of my hips as he looks at me with concerned eyes. “I’m sorry,” I mouth, feeling terrible for lying to him. “You almost cost us that fight!” Debs throws open the metal door, her face flustered. The hairs on my neck stand, knowing shit is about to go down. Camden closes his eyes and stands. “You knew I didn’t want her in this fight!” He points at her, talking as if I’m not even in the room. If Camden knew about the fight, then he must have fought in The Underground. “Was—was this the place you—” I stutter, not wanting to say aloud what he confided in me. He glances over his shoulder, his eyes not quite meeting mine. “Yes,” his voice grave. I swallow, and look down. It hurts that he didn’t tell me everything, but I didn’t tell him either. “You, you cost me my payout the first time you asshole! You owed me! You took something away from me I’ll never get back!” Debs begins to pace the locker room. “What the hell are you talking about?” Camden snaps.

“You killed Bret! He was my fighter, my nephew! We worked hard to make it to the top, that money and contract was ours!” She throws the locker onto the ground, her face streaked with tears. I flinch from the loud crash of the locker and the floor. Bret, the name sounds familiar. “Bret?” I ask, wanting someone to connect the dots. Camden looks over his shoulder at me. “Bret Hollis.” My eyes flash with recognition. He went to our school. But how did he end up in the cage with Camden? It doesn’t make sense. “Debs, I—” Camden begins but Debs cuts him off. “No, you don’t get to talk. I finally get to talk. All those bullshit contracts and them saying he died of injuries inside the ring when really you murdered him!” This fucking underground must have known Camden knew Bret. Just like they knew Chase and I knew each other. They play on our emotions, wanting us to turn from friend to enemy. I want to say it’s because it’s a bigger pay out, but it feels personal. Looking up, Camden and Debs are still going at it. Their faces red, and hands balled into fists. “You’re pointing the wrong finger,” I groan and they both shut up and look at me. “You’re blaming Camden, but maybe you should be blaming The Underground, or Silvia. She played you, she played all of us.” They both look at me wildly as my words set in. They know I’m right. A knock sounds at the door, and the devil herself walks in. Silvia Machen. “Tate that was some fight,” she praises sashaying in. She clasps her hands in front of her, as one of her sharp eyebrows raise at the sight of Camden. I want to claw her fucking face off, but even that wouldn’t justify what the hell she’s done. She needs something much worse, and long term, to satisfy my desire to hurt her. “I have to say, someone knocking out one of my men to defend the honor of his girlfriend and entering the octagon is a first for us.” Camden scoffs, and I roll my eyes. Not wanting to hear another word of bullshit leave her mouth. I guarantee The MFC knows nothing about The Underground. “Deal is a deal though, you made the final hit knocking Chase out Tate, so the money and contract are yours.” I stand, my knees buckling as I stand from the amount of pain my body is in. “I earned that money through blood and pain so I’ll take it. That contract though, I didn’t earn it.” I point at her, my jaw clenched shut. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re getting at?” Silvia tilts her head to the side as her face scrunches in confusion. “I’m saying I don’t want the contract!” I shout, irate. I want to work my way to top, not have it

given to me. I’ve only been in one fight, while other fighters have had to go through many. I’m saying no in respect to them. “Tate,” Camden grabs my elbow, his face conveying that he thinks I’m crazy to give it up. I’m not though. I’m saner then I’ve ever been. “I don’t want it, not like this. I will earn my way to the top through respect and hard work.” I lift my chin, my decision made. “Um, okay. That is a first as well,” she chuckles but I don’t find the humor in it. “What can I say, I’m different.” I scowl. She blinks rapidly, sensing my unease toward her. “Well, a medic will be in to assist your injuries and you can be on your way.” She smiles, and I roll my eyes. She should stop smiling, it’s fake. She leaves and another one of her men march in with a large duffle bag in one hand and a smaller one in the other hand. His face stoic as he drops the larger one at my feet and the other at Debs’ before leaving without a word. Debs drops to her knees, tears filling her eyes as she unzips hers. “This Tate, this is what it’s all about!” She fists stacks of bills, smelling them. “Together we will be rich, we will be number—” “You’re fired.” Her head whips up. “What?” “You heard me. You’re fired. You obviously knew what I was getting into if you’ve been here before. You knew what I was getting into and didn’t even warn me. You could have told me I could bring a knife or something to protect myself. But you didn’t because all you cared about was making money.” She stands with her hands on her hips. “I didn’t tell you because I thought you’d back out.” I inhale a breath, my chest begging to wheeze from my broken rib. Who knows if I would have backed out, my dad keeping the house was at the top of my priorities, but any sane person would have told Silvia to take the deal and shove it up her ass, and I didn’t. The medic comes and checks my injuries, I have one cracked rib and my eyebrow needs stitching - again. My chest is wrapped tightly and I’m given medication for the pain and sent on my way.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Tate Camden and I sit in the back of the car on the way to the airport. I made Debs get her own ride in fear of me killing her before we reached the airport. Upon leaving The Underground I can feel Camden’s concern and worry dissipating into anger. He’s going to be mad, but I’m just glad he knows. “I can’t believe you gave up the contract after all that,” Camden mutters under his breath as he stares out the window. “It was the right thing to do,” I reply, looking at my feet. His head whips in my direction. His face turning into a blistering red. “The right thing to do was to tell me about it! You lied! You fucking betrayed me… AGAIN!” I swallow, tears threatening to spill from my bloodshot eyes. My heart beats against my chest in panic, looking for the words to defend my actions but they’re lost. Every excuse floating in my head so fast I can’t grab on to one. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but you weren’t completely honest with me either—” I cry. “I’ve been completely honest with you since day one!” “Bullshit! You didn’t tell me you fought in The Underground,” I point out. His angry face relaxes when he realizes he himself wasn’t honest in this relationship. If we’re even in one anymore. “I needed this fight. I needed the money. I wasn’t going to ask my boyfriend to get my dad out of debt and keep the bank from taking the house.” I push the words through gritted teeth. “I don’t need help taking care of my own family!” He sighs, rubbing his chin. “Maybe you don’t want it, but you need it!” He scowls at me. “You’ve been so busy trying to take care of everyone else that you forgot about yourself!” He holds his hands out, palms up gesturing toward my whole being. “For fuck’s sake, look at what you’ve done to yourself Tate!” I wipe my spilled tears and look out the window. The pain in my chest and body making me vulnerable I don’t want to talk about this anymore. The rest of the way back to Chicago is cold and lonely as we don’t say another word to each other.

Chapter Thirty

Camden Sitting at the gym I throw all my gear into my bag, done with this place. The coaches here aren’t genuine. They played Tate and I against each other. I had a contract with Thomas but with a little threatening he was more than willing to forget about it. I haven’t talked to Tate since yesterday, and it’s killing me. I’m conflicted. She didn’t tell me about The Underground and it pisses me off. I clench my eyes shut, I wasn’t honest with her either though. Fuck! Why do relationships have to be so complicated? If I told her everything she would have told Silvia to shove that deal up her ass. Maybe. Tate is a fire I can never predict. She’s wild, burning her own path instead of the one laid out for her. I smirk, thinking about her hellfire ways. I miss Tate. I hate that I miss her. I get why she accepted the fight though, she was trying to save her family. I myself bought my parents’ house when it was nearly taken by the bank years ago. Granted it didn’t save my family, but I have it. I would have done anything to save it. From the outside it looks like a bunch of wood and a foundation, but it’s more than that. My house told a story, a story about a little blonde haired girl I fell in love with next door. The memories of Tate and I outdid the shitty ones of my parents. I couldn’t let the bank take it. The door to the gym opens, and Tate walks in. She has on a baggy gray shirt, and black shorts. Her face is bruised, and her hair doesn’t look like she’s brushed it. She looks rough. I can tell she’s in a lot of pain from the fight by the way she’s hunched over. She looks over the gym, and her eyes land on mine. My chest constricts, and I look down pretending to organize my jock straps. I feel her standing behind me before hearing her. Resting an elbow on my knee I rub my chin with my hand waiting for her to say something. “Camden?” Her words are innocent and soft, making this so much harder. “Can we talk?” I don’t respond, because I’m not sure what to say. Maybe because I know I fucked up as much as she did. When they say men suck at apologizing, they were right. A hand slaps me upside the head. Furrowing my brows I turn, finding her standing straight, her

hands balled into fists at her side. “Have you lost your mind?” I cock a brow. “You’re going to talk to me!” she demands. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I left you behind four years ago. I’m sorry that I accepted an illegal fight and didn’t tell you about it. I’m sorry for… I’m sorry for everything.” Tears fall from her eyes and I can feel my resolve instantly break. Bending down I grab my bag and walk to the door not wanting to hash this out here. Especially after the shit that just went down between Thomas and I. Stepping outside the summer sun warms my skin, sweat instantly beading along my back. “Most of all, I’m sorry I ever hurt you when all I tried to do was the opposite. I’m just… I suck at doing the right thing. I always have,” she continues, trying to keep up. I stop a few feet from my car, my keys in my hands. That is why I love Tate though, her faults are what attracts me to her. “But you aren’t perfect either. You kept secrets from me too, remember that!” Her footsteps crunch in the gravel as she heads back to her car. I want to be mad at her, but I can’t for the life of me do it any longer. Angry and confused I throw my bag on the ground and rub at the back of my neck. My head lowered, my eyes closed I call after her. “Tate!” Opening my eyes, I turn. Tate stops and looks at me with swollen eyes from crying. It bothers me that she’s been crying. Licking my bottom lip I strut toward her. Her body trembles as I near, her eyes fluttering, her wet lashes stick together. “I didn’t know—” Fisting her hair hard, I press my mouth to hers, shutting her up. My lips part hers, demanding entry. Her hands cupping my face I swallow her cries, the taste of stolen tears and sadness filling my mouth. It feels good having her next to me again. Jerking her hair, her lips pull from mine and I rest my forehead against hers. This woman is my nightmare and my saving grace. Like a drug. You know it’s bad for you, but the way you feel when you’re so wrapped up and consumed by it overrides any rational thinking. That’s the shit love is made of. “I should have told you everything. I messed up,” I confess. “I’m sorry too.” She nods, a small smile trying to break through her sadness. I dig my fingers into her neck, catching her attention. “But, don’t ever pull that shit again,” I whisper.

Chapter Thirty-One

Three Days Later Tate I lay in Camden’s bed, my body aching from head to toe. The second day was the worst when it came to pain, and each day gets better but I still hurt from the broken rib. It’s going to take some time to heal from this one. My hands under my chin, I stare at the half empty duffle bag sitting on the floor across the room. I paid Dad’s debt and the house. He doesn’t know, and I don’t plan on telling him. I’m hoping he just thinks the banks gave up trying to get money. If I told him I took care of everything he’d think of it as a handout when in reality I’m trying to keep us together. My family is too fragile to lose something so sentimental. It would break us all over again if we lost the house. Fingers walk up my spine, as Camden lies next to me on his bed. The hairs on my neck raise from the tickle they leave behind. “How do you feel?” he whispers in my ear. His breath warm and hot, my body pulses to be wrapped in nothing but sheets and him. “Like a train wreck,” I mumble, “but better.” His hands make work of my shoulder blades and a sigh escapes my mouth. Fuck that feels great. “Don’t make noises like that, I want to fuck you so bad but I’m scared of hurting your cracked rib,” his voice comes out rough and promising. It does things to me. I look over my shoulder and smirk. “I can deal, I have pain meds.” After our fight I still feel like there’s tension between us. Sex would lay that to rest. Sex makes everything better. He arches a brow, a primal grin crossing his face. Leaning over he kisses my back, skipping over the wrap around my ribs and back he kisses my tailbone before biting my ass cheek hard. “I know you think I forgot about you deceiving me, but I haven’t. You lied to me HellCat, and I plan on making you think twice before ever doing that again.” I was right about the tension, but am excited to relieve it with sex. Fire burns in my chest that spreads down my abdomen and igniting between my legs from that threat. Sitting up on his knees he pulls his jersey shorts down, and his erect cock pops free. My mouth salivates wanting to taste him. Holding the base of himself he slaps the mounds of my ass that peek

out from under my panties with it. “I was going to tell you about the fight as soon as I got back. I wasn’t lying, it was just an omission,” I justify. He drops his cock and fists my hair in one quick move. Tugging back, his blue eyes find mine. They look so primal, but beautiful. “They’re the same thing,” he growls. Keeping his hold he uses his other hand to tug my panties down. Spreading my thighs, and lifting my body up I try and help, but the weight of myself causes me to wince and his hard demeanor falls. “Easy baby,” he whispers. I have to bite my cheek to keep from smiling. This man really loves me. Spreading my ass cheeks gently he pushes the head of himself inside of me. A rush of passion surfs through me and out my mouth causing a mewl to tumble from my lips as he fills me fully. My fingers clench the covers beneath me as he slowly starts pumping into me. His hands lazily caressing my back before a loud slap echoes through the room and an overwhelming heat blossoms on my right ass cheek. “Don’t ever lie to me again,” he grits, his pace picking up. “I won’t,” I moan. “You’re going to let me take care of you.” He slaps my other cheek and I clench around him in response. “You’re going to trust me,” he whispers in my ear before biting the lobe so hard stars fire behind my eyelids. Wrapping his hand around my front he grasps one of my tits while his other hand anchors on my hip. Slowly he pushes himself in and out of me, the feeling of us together the remedy I’ve been seeking. Letting go of my chest he slides his hand up, his fingers parting my lips. I part my mouth, and he inserts two fingers. “Suck,” he demands breathy. Obeying, I suck. I lick and nibble. “Fuck yeah, you dirty little girl,” he groans as his fingers thrust into my mouth. Pulling his fingers from my mouth I feel his body tense, and he swirls his hips. The tip of him hitting me just right I come, pleasure beading its way through me. Two wet fingers glide between my cheeks and I tense but my orgasm heightens to heights I’ve never felt before and I relax into him. Two of his fingers in my ass as I lose control. I moan and pant, and come completely undone around his cock and fingers. He grunts and comes right behind me, falling on the bed next to me. Out of breath, and feeling insanely dirty but satisfied, I eye him.

He smiles knowingly. “Next time you want to lie to me, my dick is going in that ass.” My eyes go wide before a sly grin takes over. “Jokes on you, maybe I want your dick in my ass.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Tate The next day I grab everything I have on The Underground, and shove it into an unmarked envelope. NDA, Rules, Plane ticket, all of it. Stamping the dorm’s address on the front, I drop it off at the post office and wait for Keegan to get it. I may not be able to say a word about The Underground but what is stopping some college student who is looking for her shot at a news anchor position from getting some anonymous tip? The Underground hurt someone I love, and who knows how many people died after being put in the cage like savage animals. It has to stop.

Camden Lying in bed I stare up at the dark ceiling. Thoughts of trying to get back in the octagon keeping me awake. I didn’t kill Chase, so maybe I can get back in the game. The thought circles in my mind like a horror show on repeat. Tate stirs next to me and I move my arm off of her, nervous I’m putting too much weight on her. “Can’t sleep?” she mumbles half asleep. I furrow my brows in thought and take a deep breath. “Do you think I could get back into the ring? You saw me, did you ever for a second think I didn’t have control?” I sound vulnerable and I hate it, but if anyone will tell me the truth, it’s Tate. She turns, propping her head on her hand, her blonde hair falling in her face. Her eyes are half open, and her face has that sleepy glow that I love. “Not at all. I mean you were crazy mad, but you had control. You were stopping yourself before I ever said anything. You just needed an extra push is all.” I bite my bottom lip before sucking it into my mouth. “If I accept a fight, will you be there just in case I need that extra push?” My heart pounds in my chest, hoping she will accept. I understand if she doesn’t, she has her own career to look after. “I’ll be at every fight Camden,” her words are laced with so much care it takes me aback. Taking my sight off the ceiling I glance at her, tucking a hair behind her ear. She’s smiling, her eyes proud that I’m going to attempt following my dreams. I really love this woman. She drives me mad and insane. But I love her.

“I have something for you.” She wakes up. “Me?” Pushing myself off the bed I step over to a box in the corner of my room. I still haven’t unpacked, and find the little blue box sitting under some clothes. I open it, finding the necklace with the two gloves tapping each other. Closing it, I hand it to her. “I was going to give this to you the day you were leaving for college.” She sits up, crossing her legs Indian style before opening. She gasps, her hands cupping her mouth. My forehead sweats, waiting for her to say something. “It’s beautiful.” “Yeah?” I exhale with relief. I wasn’t sure if she’d like it when we were kids, let alone now. “Help me put it on?” Her innocent eyes find mine and I realize right then I never want to be without her. The thought of her ever looking at another man like she is me right now causing a panic attack to rise in my chest. I help her put it on, and kiss her neck. “Marry me?” She stills, her hand dropping from holding her hair up. Blonde tresses framing her face. “Are you sure?” I laugh. “Are you trying to talk me out of it?” “No, I just—” “Marry me,” I demand, not asking this time. Turning she cups my face, kissing me hard. She sits up on her knees nearly knocking me back she’s so excited. “Yes. Yes. Yes,” she mumbles against my lips between each kiss. My pulse beats wildly in my neck as I think about Tate being my wife. The maddening woman being mine forever. Spinning us I drop her to the mattress on her back, planning on making love to her. My fiancée. My boxing buddy. My best friend.

Chapter Thirty-Three

One Week Later Camden Hitting the bag, I displays I don’t have cage rust, and can still fight. My new coach watches pensively, his eyes narrowed with focus. His name is Les and he’s fifty-three years old, and a retired MMA fighter. He’s strict, but has a lot of respect for the sport. “You definitely have a strong hit, Camden. Let’s see what you have when it comes to grappling.” Les points at a man standing outside the ring. “Camden, this is Franklin, he’s going to be your own living breathing punching bag.” Franklin is the same height as me, looks to be the same age. Only difference is he has a bleach blond pretty boy haircut, and an eagle tattooed on his chest. He’ll be a good sparring buddy, but he’s not Pinky. I should refer Pinky here, he’d have a much better outcome and he could be my personal sparring partner. Until then, this guy will have to do. Franklin tries to grab me and I turn on my feet putting him into a chokehold. He’s not very quick, and doesn’t seem very experienced. He tries to kick at my feet and I drop him to the ground. Instantly going into an arm bar. My movements are fluid in their execution. “Nice!” Coach Les praises. Letting go of Franklin, he coughs on his hands and knees. “You’re a little rough around the edges, but I think you are ready for the ring my friend.” Les rubs at the dark stubble on his chin looking me over. Excitement and nerves spike a storm in my chest. I don’t know whether to be happy or fucking scared. I haven’t been in a professional ring in years. The crowd could hate me after the way I left things. My exit in Vegas still haunts me to this day. I’m not sure anyone will forget it. Tate steps into the ring, her body glistening with sweat from her own workout. She’s still sore and isn’t ready to train at the level she was, but Les wants her stretching and doing light workouts so she doesn’t lose too much muscle. Switching to this gym was the best thing for us both. It’s more up-to-date and as far as I can tell the coaches aren’t money hungry bastards. They care about our wellbeing, and when it comes to Tate that is my top priority. “You did great!” Tate wraps her arms around my neck, but I shake my head not so sure. “I don’t know, this is too fast. I’m not ready for this.” It’s not that I don’t think I can’t win; I need

to ensure my beast is fully caged. Tate tightens her hold on me, her smile fading. “You are. Stop doubting yourself,” she quips. I narrow my brows at her tone. “What if I snap, what if I get too pissed and…” “Then I’ll be there to push you past it.” She cups my face, kissing me softly. Her plush lips fitting mine perfectly, my doubt folds. Tate is my beast’s keeper, without her I’d still be hitting a bag in a gym with no promising future wondering what if. I can’t do this without her. I smile, and cup the back of her neck. “Enough of that shit in my gym Tate and Camden! Get back to work!” Tate and I laugh, and part ways. For some reason, coaches can’t stand public display of affection. “Don’t forget tonight we meet the wedding planner!” Tate reminds me. “The one Chloe picked out?” I question. Chloe picked out the most expensive one in Chicago, and I have to say I’m dreading this. “Yeah, she’s taking this bridesmaid thing to a whole other level.” Tate rolls her eyes. A hit upside my head takes my focus from Tate to where the hit came from. Finding Coach Les pinning me with cold eyes. “I said enough of that shit. You plan your wedding on your time. I stopped believing in them three divorces ago.” He laughs hard, and I can’t help but laugh with him. “Now come on, we have to outfight that bad rep you made for yourself. Although I have to say, I love watching the footage of you flipping everyone off.” He glances at me with an impressed look. I rub at my neck anxiously, hating he not only saw the footage, but is bringing it up. “Come on sissy boy, let’s see how hard you really hit.” Les holds his hands up, wanting me to punch them as fast and hard as I can. I raise my fists, ready to throw this fucker down along with my bad reputation.

Tate “So wait, you don’t want a traditional wedding topper?” Camden looks at me with a confused look as we stand in the posh La Adore Wedding. It’s a wedding planner franchise that Chloe found here in Chicago. “No. Remember that game where you’re a red or blue fighter and you have to try and get the other ’s head to pop up by punching them to win?” I start second guessing my choice; worried he

wants a more traditional wedding. “Yeah…” “I want those on the cake. I saw it in a movie when I was a kid and have wanted it ever since. What do you think?” I bite my bottom lip nervously. Camden laughs, before pointing at the paper our wedding planner has in his hands. “You heard the lady. Fighting figures from a game.” I smile, excited we’re on the same page. The wedding planner looks mortified. He’s a young guy Chloe found, swearing he’d be perfect. Camden was all for it, but really I’d be fine going to the courthouse. I don’t need to spend thousands of dollars just to marry the man of my dreams. Camden pulls his phone out and his eyes go wide. “What?” He doesn’t reply so I grab his phone from his hands and turn my back to him. Looking at the screen it shows Silvia Machen being arrested for suspicion on conducting an underground fighting ring, and endorsing more than millions from the MFC. I can’t help but smile when I see who wrote the article. Keegan. It worked, the devil herself was taken out and Keegan is not a sex maid. “Why do you have that look?” I freeze. “What look?” “That one.” He points at my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply casually. His face goes into a panic when he realizes I had something to do with taking down The Underground. “You know if any of Silvia’s team find out—” “They won’t. There is nothing tying me to the information I sent Keegan.” I rub at my forehead nervously. I knew doing it was risky, but I wanted to take Silvia out, and this was the best way. “Who is Keegan?” “She was my old college roomie,” I explain. He rolls his head back, and groans. His hands palming his face as he’s clearly frustrated that I did such a risky thing. “I take this as an omission, and you know where liars get it.” He drops his hands, a serious look crossing his face. I roll my lips onto one another, trying to keep from laughing. He wants to get me in the ass so bad, he’ll find any excuse. His phone rings, and he snatches it from my hand.

He holds his finger up and walks outside. “Alright, our cake maker has a nephew who has the game you’re talking about and said he could use it for the cake. So that is settled.” The wedding planner brushes his short dark hair from his flawless forehead. Camden struts back in and before I can ask him another question he smashes his lips to mine. “I got a fight, in seven months in Vegas with Jake ‘The Snake’,” he mouths against my lips. I pull away from him, elation taking over. “Oh my god! That is big!” “The world needs to see that I’m the MMA heavyweight out of Chicago, not him.” His confidence turns me on so much I rub my thighs together to keep my wet panties from sticking to me. “Wait, what is the date?” I ask, our wedding is in seven months. “March twentieth.” “Babe, that’s the day of the wedding?” My eyes widen as I point that tidbit of information out. His face falls, panic setting in. “Shit, I can—” I grab his wrist, calming him. “It’s perfect.” I can see our wedding photos now, a busted lip and bruised cheek. “We will have a quick Vegas wedding, and have a big ceremony here in Chicago with friends and family,” I suggest, not wanting to do all of this big wedding crap anyway. This was all Camden’s idea. “You sure?” Grabbing his face I pull him to me. “Positive.”



Epilogue

Seven Months Later I watch Camden fight in the ring. His body is sweaty, his muscles bulging as he circles the ring. He’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. We’ve been training side by side every day for the last six months. We found a trainer in LA and flew them to Chicago to prepare Camden and I. Camden for this fight, and I have a fight next month in Detroit. WE are doing it. We are making dreams come true. We just had to have each other to make it happen. The crowd is going wild, chanting Camden’s name as he takes ‘Jake the Snake’ to the ground. I stand on my toes, my fingers crossed as I watch Camden. Camden stills as he straddles Jake on the floor. He looks to the side, looking for me. His extra push. I shove past the MFC crew and into the stage lights where he can see me. I give my nod, and it’s all he needs. He flips Jake into a Rear Naked Chokehold and Jake instantly taps out. Camden jumps to his feet in victory. “YOU DID IT!!” I scream jumping up and down in my spot. Camden doesn’t even wait for the referee to raise his hand and declare him the winner. He rushes out of the octagon and raises me in the air. “This is the only trophy I need.”

Hours later Camden My nose stinging, possibly broken, I hold Tate’s hand in my own. She looks gorgeous in a short white cocktail dress. Her hair tousled and sitting on her shoulders she looks amazing. Perfect for Vegas. I run my gaze from her body to her bare feet, her white heels sitting haphazardly next to her. “Fuck I love you.” Taking my eyes off her feet I look up, finding Tate’s face pale, her eyes looking at the minster. I realize then I interrupted him in the middle of his homily. “Sorry,” I mumble lowering my head. Looking up through hooded eyes I find Tate smiling back at me. That look I love so much staring back at me. “I now pronounce you, man and wife. You may kiss the bride.” Taking her face I kiss her hard. My tongue demanding entry and taking over. Her hands clasp my cheeks as she kisses me back just as hard.

The minster coughs and I pull from Tate, and take her hand in mine. Her red and white diamonds blinding me from the evening sun shining through the chapel. “If you will move to your left you can get some pictures, it’s a part of your package,” one of the employees states, pointing the way before calling in the next couple to get married.

Tate Camden picks me up bride style and the little short Mexican woman takes our picture. We look a mess I’m sure, but I love it. I couldn’t imagine this any other way. When I kissed Camden in the tree that day, I knew that he would be the last guy I’d ever kiss. I can honestly say I am the happiest I’ve ever been. Journey is in therapy and in college for an art degree. Dad and I are closer than ever; he is always giving me advice on fighting and healing. I’ve even made him a part of my team. He’s at every fight. Camden and I train together, and travel together. We are inseparable and do everything together. He has my back, and I have his. “Oh my gosh, that was so beautiful!” Chloe cries sashaying out of the chapel. Her dark hair is pinned up with red flowers, and her red dress is barely covering her monster tits. She looks beautiful though. “Would you quit it?” I throw my hand at her. She’s so dramatic. “Bitch, that shit is beautiful, let me have my moment,” she points at me, and I can’t help but laugh. It was just going to be Camden and I getting hitched in Vegas, but Chloe wouldn’t let go of her role as my bridesmaid. She’s watched Camden and I grow since we were kids so I couldn’t deny her being here. Her eyes drop landing on my feet. “Where the hell are your shoes?” I look down with her, finding my bare toes wiggling back. “I don’t know, somewhere. I wore the dress, give me a break.” She groans, clearly annoyed. “Hey man, just wanted to say how cool it was that you fought and got married on the same day, just wanted to show my support,” an unfamiliar voice sounds from behind me. Turning, I find Camden shaking Jake The Snake Adam’s hand. I frown, curious why he’s at my wedding. “Thanks man,” Camden juts his chin out, slapping Jake’s shoulder. “Who is that fuck me stick?” Chloe says way too loudly. My eyes widen as I look over my shoulder at Chloe. My face conveying how crude she really is. “That is the guy Camden just fought. Hence the bruised and bloody face.”

“Introduce me.” She shoves me forward, not giving me a chance to say no. I scowl, irritated she wants me to play matchmaker. “Aw, the bride. You look ravishing.” Jake grabs my hand giving it a kiss and I notice Camden tense at the display of affection. I love seeing Camden become jealous. “Thank you,” I reply shyly. “Anyway, congratulations you two. I should probably get going.” Jake gives a curt nod before taking a step back toward the entrance. “Oh,” he stops and points at Camden, “I’ll be taking the Best Fighter Out of Chicago title back.” He points at Camden as he starts to walk backwards. Camden gives him a ‘just try it fucker ’ look. Chloe shoves me again. The woman is relentless in her man hunting. “This is Chloe,” I blurt. Chloe’s face reddens. I shrug. She knows I suck at talking to guys, especially ones that aren’t hard on the eyes. Jake is the same size as Camden, but is covered in tattoos and has short brown hair. His face is sharp, his eyes matching his chocolate hair. He’s a catch for any girl given his looks. Him coming here to congratulate Camden on his wedding day, I’d say his personality is a plus too. “Oh, hi Chloe. I don’t think I saw you at the fight?” “No, I was getting things ready for the wedding.” She smiles the biggest, fakest smile ever and I roll my eyes. “You look hungry, are you hungry?” He tilts his head to the side with a flirtatious grin spreading across his handsome face. “Starving,” Chloe says quickly. Jake holds his hand out and Chloe takes it without a second thought. “Should we gamble?” I ask, leaving the chapel, not sure what married couples do. I don’t feel any different than I did walking in. Except for this heavy ring on my finger. “No, I’m taking my wife back to the hotel for a proper fucking.”

THE END

Acknowledgements I have many people to thank for helping me pull this book together the way it has. I loved writing something out of MC. Tate and Camden came out of nowhere and when I couldn’t drown out their voices anymore I took the risk and tried something new. Lili Saint Germain, and River Savage. I pm’d these ladies with idea’s, plots, and insecurities and they were always there. My betas, River, Kolleen, and Candace. They helped so much in smoothing out the edges and holes of the story. To my kick ass editor Ellie at Love N Books. I love you. Seriously, you just get me and I love you for it. Kim Ginsberg you and your eagle eyes were amazing when proofing. My Devil girls, your support means the world to me. My gaming buddy Jake. Thank you for your insight on what it’s like being inside the ring. Rock Stars of Romance, you’re amazing at what you do, and have been amazing to work with. Bloggers, thank you for taking a chance on my baby. Your support and reviews are appreciated more than you know. I want to give a big thank you to my husband who allowed me to test out the moves I learned while researching MMA. He was a real trooper. Thank you to my mom. She is a bigger reader than anyone I know, and had so many ideas for my book. Love her. Most of all, I want to thank the readers. I love that you read my work.

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