Chapter 24
Fight Night
DIESEL
“You’re not even gonna go watch her fight?” Blood asks.
I throw back another shot. “What for?” I slam the shot glass down on his desk in the gym.
“‘Cause for the last week, you’ve been acting like a pussy. Avoiding Martina in the gym, moping around.”
“For once in my miserable life, I did the right thing.” It was the only thought I could hold on to, but it didn’t make me feel any better.
“Don’t you know outlaws can’t do the right thing? It messes with our equilibrium.”
“You might be right.”
“And you look like shit.”
“Maybe you forgot I got slashed six days ago?” The ache in my side is nothing compared to the gnawing pain in my chest. Like I’d taken a sledgehammer to my heart. Geez, fuck, maybe this is what they call a broken heart.
“The look on your face has nothing to do with being stabbed and everything to do with kicking Martina to the curb. I think what really burns your ass is that she just accepted what you said without a fight.”
Blood has this annoying fucking way of looking into my brain.
I pour another shot and hold up the glass. “I think I’m just buzzed enough so that bullshit makes sense.”
“Hate to tell you, brother. You’re way past buzzed. You’re right between drunk and falling-down sloppy.”
“Give me time, I’ll get there.”
“Why don’t you do yourself and the rest of us a favor and just tell her how you really feel? Without the bullshit of you being an outlaw or too old. Although, you are getting older than dirt.”
“Fuck you.” I drag my fingers through my hair. “That’s the thing, I don’t know how I feel.”
“Bullshit!” Blood grabs the bottle of Jack away from me. “Do you think about her when you’re not with her?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you worry about her when you’re not with her?”
“Yeah.”
“Does your dick get hard every time you see her?”
“Fuck yeah.” I lean in. “Gotta jack off in the shower almost every night after watching her in the gym all day.”
Blood throws up his palms. “Too much information, asshole.”
The door bangs open, and Maxie stands over me. “What do you think you’re doin’?” She slams her hands on her hips. Never a good sign with a woman. Believe me, I know—two ex-wives.
“Sitting in here getting my drink on.” I turn back to the bottle and mumble, “What’s it to you?”
“Might be nice if you went out there and supported our fighters.”
“I support them every fuckin’ day of the week.”
“Except tonight when they need you the most, you’re in here hiding from a woman you oughta be with, and you know it.”
“I don’t know shit.”
“You got that right.” Maxie smirks.
“Well, neither do you, ‘cause you don’t know anything about what goes on between Martina and me.”
“You’re right, and it’s also none of my business, but since Martina’s a Harlot, and we look out for each other, I’m warning you.
” She pokes me in the chest. “Either treat her like a friend and stop ignoring her, or claim her and fuck her in your bed, but this in between shit is killing her, and I need her focused.”
“I doubt she even notices.”
“Bullshit!”
I pour another shot. “How come everybody keeps saying that to me?”
“‘Cause you’re acting like an asshole. Now, put the booze away and come out and watch the fights like a man.”
I turn to Blood. “You gonna let your woman talk to me like that?”
“Yeah, I am, cause she’s dead-bang right, and you know it.”
“Fine.” I push out of the chair and grip the edge of the desk for support. “I’ll come out and watch the fights if it’ll shut you both up.”
Maxie rolls her eyes in an annoying way, and I turn to Blood. “Shit, brother, I feel sorry for you. Do you win any fights?”
“What do you think?”
“I can hear you,” Maxie says from the doorway.
MARTINA
“No matter what happens in the cage, you’re a winner.” Maxie pulls the tape over my palm, around my knuckles and thumb. “You already had the skill, and now you’ve put in the work.”
I focus on her words and what they mean to me. What this night means to me. This fight is way more than getting in the cage and winning. It’s finally doing something I’m passionate about, for me.
“Don’t listen to any outside noise. Concentrate on your opponent. Follow her eyes. Her eyes will tell you her next move.”
I think of my mother and wish she could be here to see me. I called her when Maxie gave me the phone a few weeks ago. I told her I was safe and would be home soon. I didn’t give her too much detail ‘cause I didn’t know where my life was heading, but now I’m sure.
Right here in this gym is what I want. Diesel might’ve broken my heart, but I will do this with or without him because I have finally found my tribe in the Royal Harlots.
Maxie and I leave the gym, and my eyes widen at the octagon cage brightly lit in the dark night.
The crowd is cheering and jeering the fight in progress, yelling for blood, tension surrounding the arena.
The fighter delivers a crushing blow, his opponent crashes to the mat, and the winner is declared as the loser is dragged away.
The reality of what I’m about to do becomes clear.
“You got this,” Maxie says as if sensing my doubt.
The microphone crackles. “Our next fighter is new to the cage, but she’s ready to show us her stuff.” The referee’s announcement breaks into my thoughts.
“Let’s hear it for Martina, fighting for the Royal Harlots.”
Maxie grabs my shoulders. “You’re ready, and you can do this.”
I jog up the three metal steps leading to the cage, push through the door and swagger onto the mat. The ref brings us to the center of the cage, and we size each other up. She’s my height but bulkier, which could mean slower. The ref steps away, the bell rings, and we circle each other.
“Take your time, Martina,” Maxie yells from the sidelines. “Find your spot.”
My opponent takes a few jabs that I easily deflect.
I set up for a roundhouse kick, but she’s ready for me and delivers a sharp leg kick.
I quickly recover and circle to the left, trying to find an opening.
She’s strong but slow—just as I suspected.
I stay on the balls of my feet, bouncing left and right.
Using my natural agility to keep her off-balance.
The crowd is cheering and out of control, but it all meshes together as adrenaline rockets through my veins. I’m high on the control and the power coursing through my body.
She swings, and I duck. She jabs again, and I bob to the left. She swings wide, and I go in low, head-butting her in the gut then crashing my fist into her jaw. She staggers backwards, and I don’t relent. I throw a flurry of punches, ending with a hook that briefly stuns her.
We circle each other again, and I’m zeroed in on her eyes. When they flicker, I’m ready. She charges, I bounce to the side, and she loses her balance. I use the advantage to deliver another roundhouse kick that connects.
I reposition myself. The cage rattles, and my gaze darts to the left.
“You got this, babe,” Diesel shouts, fisting the links of the cage. “You got this.”
The split-second distraction allows my opponent to attack with a brain-shaking blow to my left temple, followed by a fierce kick to my power leg.
My knee collapses, and I crumble to the mat.
She follows me down, raining body shots.
I deflect most of them, rolling away from her and scrambling to my feet.
She follows me up and attempts a single-leg takedown, which I avoid, using the cage for balance.
Back in control, I deliver a series of punches.
She blocks the first, but I land the rest, and when she staggers backward, I end with a well-placed roundhouse kick.
She struggles to retain her balance, side-steps then crashes to the mat.
As the ref starts the countdown, she struggles to her hands and knees, then collapses to the mat for the remainder of the count.
The crowd erupts, and I hear them chanting my name. It’s invigorating, stimulating, and the best high ever.
“You did it!” Maxie bangs on the cage. Marisol and the other Harlots are going wild alongside her. My heart is full with their camaraderie.
I quickly scan the crowd for Diesel as the ref pulls me into the middle of the cage, raising my hands over my head and declaring me the winner. The blinding lights and the cheers from the crowd surround me.
They’re still chanting my name when I exit the cage to Maxie’s strong embrace. “You did it.” She grips my shoulders. “You won your first bout.”
“It was unbelievable. Something I’ve never felt.”
“Pretty good, right?” She hands me a towel, and I wipe the sweat from my face and neck.
“Here’s the winner!” Marisol and the other Harlots surround me in a group hug, and I’ve never felt so accepted and so in the right place.
We head toward the gym, and I do a quick scan of the crowd.
“He’s not here.” Maxie follows me into the gym as I head for the locker room.
I consider asking who, but how dumb would that sound?
“He totally distracted you, so I told him to get the hell away from the cage,” Maxie adds.
Of course, she was right. Seeing Diesel even for that half second messed with my concentration.
“Get showered and changed, then we head over to The Tropics to celebrate.”
“The Tropics?” I didn’t want to see Diesel, plus I didn’t want anything to ruin this night.
“Don’t worry. I had a talk with him and laid it all out ‘cause there’s no way I’m having him mess with my latest up-and-coming fighter.”
I gather my toiletries and towel out of my locker, afraid to ask exactly what she said to Diesel. Maxie doesn’t beat around the bush when she expresses herself, and Diesel is blunt as hell, so it must’ve been an interesting conversation.
“Oh, and I have something for you.” Maxie reaches into a bag I didn’t notice her carrying, pulls out a black tank top, and hands it to me.
I hold it up, examining the Royal Harlots MC Tijuana stamp. “This is amazing.” La Catrina with a gold crown, set over two skulls. “I love it.”
As a young girl, my mother explained to me the significance of the Catrina as a symbol of respecting death, but also celebrating the beauty and fullness of life.
I ran my fingers over the design, knowing it would always hold a special meaning as the day I embraced my freedom to live my own life without the restraint of others.
“You’re now official. You would’ve gotten this after your first fight, but it’s even sweeter since you won.”
I hug the shirt to me. “You’ll never know how much this means to me.”
“You’re wrong, hon, I do know. From now on, you will never walk alone. You will have a whole band of fierce sisters at your back.”
I swallow hard, choking back the emotion that makes Maxie uncomfortable.
“You are going to be the end of me.” She grabs me into a hug. “Now get showered and dressed. We have some celebrating to do.”
I head for the showers, repeating Maxie’s words in my head, because if I have to face Diesel at The Tropics, I’ll need a whole band of sisters behind me.