41. Jude
41
jude
Me
I miss you already
Honey
I miss you, too, babe. Thanks for siccing Lina and Sage on me. They haven’t left me alone since you left.
Me
Honey
Oh, please. Like you didn’t have anything to do with it. I’ve had a wine hangover almost every morning because of those two descending on me every night. Christian even invited himself over last night.
Me
I bet Sage loved that.
Honey
Pretty sure that’s why she drank a whole bottle herself. They all ended up passed out in our living room. I had to step over bodies this morning just to get to the coffeepot.
Me
I bet Christian loved that.
Honey
Ha! Sage was at least aware enough to put a whole wall of pillows between her and Christian.
Me
Lol. You trail riding today?
Honey
Yes, and then it’s bath night for the whole stable. It’s been so hot, it will feel good to get a little wet.
Me
I’ll get you wet.
Honey
Another reason why I wish Lina and Sage would leave me alone for at least one night. Don’t you want to see me touch myself the next time we FaceTime?
Me
Fuck! I’ll text Lina.
Honey
Thank you
Me
Don’t touch yourself until tonight. I want you dripping just thinking about it until then. I gotta go. Coach is waiting for me. We are going to watch a tape, and then I have back-to-back sparring sessions in the gym. Press conference is tonight, too. I’ll call you when it’s done.
Honey
Ok. I’ll be thinking about you all day. Love you, babe!
Me
Love you, honey!
M y least favorite part about being a professional fighter was the spotlight, the public life. I fucking hated it. Another reason why I never felt like Vegas was home and wasn’t on social media.
Knowing that about me, it didn’t surprise me to see Jessica leaning beside the conference room door. She was wearing her press badge, her head bowed over her tablet—probably keeping up with the latest reports.
She was an attractive woman, tall and curvy. Her tight, royal-blue pencil dress accentuated her hips and breasts and complemented her bronze skin. The heels she wore made her legs appear impossibly long. She knew this, though, and she knew how to use it. She brushed her long, curly, dark hair over her shoulder before raising her eyes from her screen.
Seeing me approach, her dark lashes fluttered, her brown eyes assessing. They were always scrutinizing me. I always felt as if they were passing silent judgment about what I was wearing or how I was walking or simply standing. I didn’t think she meant to make me feel that way. She was a compassionate and understanding person who just gave that look. It didn’t help that her lips pursed when she examined me from head to toe. I called her out on it once, and she just told me that she liked to look at me. I never truly bought it. Possibly one reason why I never let my walls down with her.
“Knew you’d need the support,” she said, coming off the wall to meet Alex and me in the hall.
I could already hear the commotion of the pressroom. The click of camera shutters, the chatter of the reporters, Mr. Venture cracking some crude joke to make everyone laugh while they waited for their headliners. Mike Reyes would be meeting me in there. Our first time face-to-face.
“Appreciate it, Jess.” I leaned in to give her a quick hug.
“Hey, Alex,” she greeted Coach.
“Hey, Jessica. Thanks for doing this. We know it hasn’t been easy keeping on top of the social media posts.”
Jessica had been busy, reporting each new post as fake news or harassment. Some of them had been removed in the last twenty-four hours, but it wasn’t going to stop reporters from asking about it or for Mike Reyes to make some snide comment.
“Of course. Remember what we talked about, Jude? What to say if someone asks about the court case?”
“Yeah, I got this.”
She patted my shoulder. “If not, I’ll be right there to back you up. Just keep bringing it back to the fight, and you should be fine.”
I nodded.
Right then, the door swung open. Flashes framed a man in a suit—Mr. Venture’s assistant.
“You’re up,” he said, opening the door wider for us to pass.
More lights flashed. A platform was raised at the front of the room, backdropped by a black banner with the Venture Fight Organization logo and sponsors. Mr. Venture sat in the middle of a large, black-clothed table, a mic positioned in front of him and one on either side of him, waiting for Reyes and me.
I sucked in a deep inhale. Counted to ten. Released an exhale.
Here goes nothing.
I stepped into the lion’s den, blinded by the strobing lights that wouldn’t stop flashing around me. As I took a seat, I slipped into the Bull Larsen mask I’d known for years. The one that lets me feel nothing and everything all at once.