Doomsday Love: An MMA & Second Chance Romance (27 page)

BOOK: Doomsday Love: An MMA & Second Chance Romance
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“So you’re going to ditch me for Oscar, is that what you’re saying?” I squint my eyes at her.

She laughs. “No. I just want to let you know that he and I are… talking again.”

“Talking? Like, talking-talking?”

She bobs her head eagerly. “I’m going to meet him after the fight.”

“Wow.” My eyes expand. I exhale slowly. I don’t want to wonder, but the mere mention of Oscar only leads me to think about the other Davenport. And no, I’m not talking about Otto.

“Do you think that Dra—wait. No. Never mind.” I wave a dismissive hand but Kylie grabs it to stop me.

“No.” Her face is much more serious now. “What were you going to ask?”

My lips press together. His name is on the tip of my tongue. It’s searing hot, weighing it down. I have to get it out.

I prepare myself to ask, but a hand touches my shoulder. I spin around to face Shane. A few wisps of his blond hair are out of place; his face is flustered, most likely due to waiting in that long line just to check in.

“I was looking all over for you,” he grumbles. His eyes move over to Kylie, and she forces a smile before taking a sip of her margarita.

“Oh, Kylie. Hey.” Shane’s lips stretch to smile.

“Shane,” she mutters.

“This is strange. What are you doing here?” His voice is bright, but Kylie and I know it’s full of shit.

“I’m on vacation. Meeting someone.”

“Would that someone, pray tell, be Jenny?” He folds his arms over his chest.

She laughs. “Actually, no its not. I just so happen to be here during the same weekend as her. Do you have a problem with that,
Shane
?”

“Not at all. Free country.”

“Sure is.” She thins her eyes up at him.

He continues smiling, but puts his line of sight on me. “Jenny, ready to head up to the room? I need to take a shower, get out of these sweaty clothes.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

He hands me one of the room keys and then turns, but it’s as he turns that I see something that takes me completely off guard.

It’s right over Shane’s shoulder. He is… There’s a sign—an advertisement poster that you can’t miss, even if you happen to be stupid, sloppy drunk.

He
stands out so much. How could I ever forget that face?

His hair is as dark as the feathers of a raven, long and layered at the top, faded lightly around the edges and in the back. His face is still clean, those piercing green eyes looking right at me.

He’s bigger—
much
bigger. Massive and yet slender in all the right places. His nostrils are flared and his body is upright, shoulders broad, as if no man in the world can defeat him.

A mouthpiece hangs partially out of his mouth, and his jaw is flexed. He has so many more tattoos now.

He looks like a completely different person, but I would recognize that face anywhere.

That ink can’t hide him.

He’s even sexier than before—a beast of a man.

“Oh my God,” I breathe as I rush around Shane.

Shane stops in the middle of the walkway, agitated. “Jenny, come on,” he calls.

“I—I’m coming. Just give me a sec.”

“Whatever. I don’t have time for this. Just meet me in the room.”

I ignore him for the most part. I can’t stop gawking at the poster. I look down at the date. May 20
th
? Wait. That’s
tonight
.

A hand rubs my arm. I gasp as I look to my right. Kylie is there.

“That’s another thing I wanted to talk to you about.” She bats her eyelashes innocently, but her eyes tell it all. She knew about this.

“Kylie, what in the hell is this?” I point at the large poster.

“That’s Doomsday, sweetie,” she responds. She turns me in her direction, gripping my shoulders.

My drink sloshes all over the floor, running over my fingers. I turn my head to look at him again. God, it’s been so long since I saw him.

Kylie grabs my chin and forces my eyes back on hers. “Babe, listen. When Oscar told me about the MMA fight for a ‘friend’, he actually meant Drake. I knew you’d see the poster somehow while you were here. I just… didn’t know how to tell you.”

“He’s here?” I ask, breathlessly.

“Yes. Here in the city somewhere.”

“Oh my goodness.”

“Look—don’t worry, okay. I doubt you’ll even get the chance to run into him like that. He’s so busy now—so popular. The crowds will be all over him. It will be crazy.”

“He doesn’t know I’m here, does he?”

“I don’t know.”

“He doesn’t need to know.” I look at the poster again. “Are you going to the fight?”

“I have tickets.” She smiles warily. “Oscar got us front row.”


Us?
” I frown and back away. “No, Kylie. Hell, no. I am not going to that fight.”

“I told him you wouldn’t, but he got one for you anyway.” She pauses, drawing in a deep breath. “Look, why not, you know? I thought about it and I’m sure he’d like to see you after so many years.”

“That doesn’t matter. I don’t want to see
him
!”

Her eyebrow quirks up and she folds her arms. “You are such a terrible liar, you know that?”

I shake my head, swallowing hard. I bring my drink up to my lips and finish it off, slamming the empty glass down on a nearby table. Then I step away and walk around her.

“I’ve gotta go. Shane is waiting.” It’s now that I realize my hands are trembling.

“Wait—what?” She catches up with me. “Jen, think about this! It’s your chance to make things right with him again. Make them better. Every time we see each other you are wondering about something that involves him. Why not get answers for yourself? You don’t even hate him, you just want to. You can pretend you do, but I know you don’t.”

“No—Kylie. No. I don’t want to see him! Why would I want to, after what he did to me? And especially now when he’s obviously become some big shot? He might have changed—he’s probably worse now.”

“Oscar says he hasn’t changed a bit—at least not in a bad way. And that he mentions you often.”

“I doubt that.” But I can’t help but feel my heart skip a beat when she says that. Is it true? Does he talk about me? Does he miss me?

“He’s not over you. You know it.”

“Well he should have proved that to me the day he decided to stand me up.”

Kylie narrows her eyes. “You really think he wanted to do that to you?” She exhales. “Life probably just got in the way, Jen. You never know.”

“I don’t care,” I mumble.

She shrugs. “Something tells me if you go to this fight, and Oscar can get us to the back to see Drake, he will explain everything when he sees you. You never gave him the chance, Jenny. He called, Oscar told me. He called and texted you so many times, but you didn’t respond.”

“Because I changed my number. You know this.”

“Right. And you also removed yourself from all forms of social media. It’s like you disappeared off the face of the earth for a while. How was he ever supposed to reach out to you, especially when you told me not to give him your information? I stayed true to my word and to you, but things are different now, Jen. We aren’t eighteen anymore.”

“I had to do that.” I look down at my feet.

“I know.” She gives me a sympathetic smile. “Look. Ditch Shane and come with me to the fight. I think you two should talk things out. Clear the air, like Oscar and I did. We are on better terms now. We’re taking things slowly and it’s nice to be reacquainted with him again.”

She smiles gently, with a sparkle in her eyes. One that makes my stomach twist in knots.

“You don’t understand.” I step towards her. “At least Oscar had the balls to end it with you the right way. Drake
left
me, Kylie. He stood me up on that bridge that night. He made me feel like a fool.”

“You say that all time, but you act like it didn’t hurt him just as much as it did you. Look where he is now!” She points at the poster. “You think he got here overnight? Something tells me that him getting into MMA had something to do with why he left—and why he couldn’t meet you that night!”

I turn, heading toward to elevator for the hotel rooms. She catches up to me again. “Just think about it.” Her voice is desperate. I’ve never heard her like this before. Not on my behalf.

I look her over. Everything about her is begging me to do this… but I can’t.

“I don’t want to.”

“Why? Because you know you’ve probably hated him for false reasons for years?”

“No. Because it doesn’t make things better. Just because he’s here doesn’t mean I have to see him. I don’t want to get lost in his lies again. All he did was feed me bullshit when we were in Fox River.” I scratch the top of my head. “Look, I’m not going, Kylie. And I mean it… so just stop trying, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow morning or something. Have fun at the fight.”

Kylie stops walking, but I keep going until I reach the elevator. I can feel her defeat, but I don’t care.

I walk into the large box with the rest of the guests that were waiting and ride up to floor fifteen.

During it all, though, Drake is on my mind. And in each hallway is a fucking poster board with his face on it.

It’s like he’s haunting me—taunting me. Telling me only one thing.

I can’t resist him.

I need to see him.

I need answers.

But I don’t want to go to that fight. I don’t want to cave after finally getting my shit together. I don’t want to fall like I did before. Not for him.

Not for Doomsday.

Chapter 25
Jenny


H
ey
?” Shane glues himself to me from behind. His body is uncomfortably hot, as well as the breath that trickles past my ear. “What’s up with you today?”

I drop my hairbrush, inhaling before exhaling. “Nothing’s up with me. I’m fine.” I’m lying.

“What was all that shit down in the casino—you staring at that poster like a crazy person?” He releases me and then steps back.

I turn to look at him. “It was nothing.”

He scans me up and down with thorough eyes, and I’m so glad when he shrugs it off. “Whatever you say. So, listen. Remember when I told you we have plans for tonight?”

“Yeah…?”

He smirks. “Well, I have a few friends that hooked me up with some tickets to a fight tonight. It’s a huge fight—heavyweights. Good entertainment for us. Also good enough to get us in the mood for a little hostile sex later on.”

My eye twitches, and fortunately for me his back has already turned. My heart drops and falls right out of my ass.

“A fight?” I ask, almost breathless. I try to remain open, formal. I fail. I know exactly which fight he’s speaking of.

Shane looks over his shoulder at me with a tilted brow as he adjusts his collar. “Yes. A fight. It will be fun. You’ll see.”

“I don’t want to go,” I state rapidly, rushing after him.

He looks down at me like I’m from another planet.

“I mean, I’d rather stay here in the hotel like you wanted. Have some drinks. Chill out.” My smile is complacent as I back my outburst up.

He steps forward, tilting my chin so our eyes can meet. “Jenny, I already have the tickets. I placed a bet on the fight. We’re going and that’s that.”

I drop my head when he releases my chin.

“So get dressed,” he continues. “And look nice. There will be famous people there.” He fixes his tie as he looks into the mirror. “When they see me they need to know that the woman I’m with is just as sexy.”

I turn around, hurrying into the bathroom.
Smug bastard.

I shut the door behind me and then press my back against it. I hope the seats he has are far, far away from the stage so that
he
can’t see me.

And I hope Kylie doesn’t catch me there. I’ll look like a complete fool if I show up when I flat out denied her request in the casino.

* * *

G
reat
.

Just. Motherfucking. Great!

Front row.

Of course. Of course it’s front row!

Why would Shane settle for anything less?

My heart gallops in my chest with each step we take closer to our seats. My eyes move frantically across the stadium.

It’s starting to fill up with bodies, and soon it will be filled with the presence of a familiar man that I know is going to dominate this place.

Shane holds me snug to his side as he walks down the aisle. When we make it to the front row, he goes down eight seats and then sits. I sit right beside him, and as I look up, I can’t help but stare at the cage.

It’s shiny and black. Clean. The mats, I’m sure, are just as clean—if not cleaner. I remember the time at the Dirty Dawg Pit.

Man. It was nothing like this. Those guys were animals. Shaking and rattling the cage. Growling and punching and kicking. It was daunting for a girl like me to witness. I’d never seen a fight before. It was my first time being a part of the experience.

There, it was so much darker, so much grittier, and much more terrifying.

Here? Well, there are rich people everywhere. They literally surround me. Faking their smiles and waves, joking about stupid things or talking about who they think will win tonight.

Everyone has his or her bets on Doomsday.

Of course they do.

When has Drake ever lost a fight? I didn’t even know he was still fighting!

He’s obviously here for a reason—the star of the show. His face is all over this fucking desert city and I was too lost in my own head to even notice it. I wonder how many billboards and posters we passed before I finally realized it was him.

“Cheer up,” Shane hisses at my side. He’s focused on the cage. I’m staring at my lap. “It’s just a fight, Jenny. Get a grip.”

Little does he know that it won’t just be fighters in that cage, but my ex-boyfriend, my first love, and the man who broke my heart.

The crowd thickens. The seats fill up tens by tens. This stadium is huge. There have to be over 25,000 people here tonight. I am shocked that there are so many attending.

How could I have missed what he’s doing now? How have I not seen him on any other posters or billboards?

I don’t watch much TV. I spent most of my free time at school singing in the studio they had, recording music that I knew no one would listen to but myself.

The songs were mostly about heartbreak.

All about first love.

All about abandonment.

I probably sound like a knock-off version of Adele and Katy Perry, but I love my music. I love the soul I can put into it, the power I give to my voice. After I’ve had a stiff drink, I go all out in the studio. The microphones don’t even stand a chance.

I sing because it inspires me to keep going.

Even when I know not many will listen, I still upload them to my website. I get a few listeners here and there. A few anonymous comments about how great I sound, and I am okay with that.

To me, a few equal many.

“You lying little skank!” Kylie plops down in the seat right beside me, stealing my attention away.

“Oh my God, Kylie! You scared me!”

“Oh,
I
scared
you
? Well that couldn’t have happened if you weren’t here… like you said you wouldn’t be! Did he make you lie?”

“I was forced to come here.” I roll my eyes.

“Oh really? So you’re telling me Shane the Twatwaffle gripped you by the roots of your hair and dragged you down to this stadium?” She talks lowly so only I can hear, but there is still a chance Shane heard because he shifts in his chair as soon as she’s done talking.

He leans forward to look at Kylie. “You again, I see.” His eyebrows inch up.

“Yes, me. It’s always me. Recognize.” She snaps her fingers in the air.

I fight a laugh.

“You didn’t tell me she would be here,” Shane hisses as he sits back again.

“I didn’t even know
I
would be here,” I mutter back.

He tightens his jaw. “Is that your seat, Kylie?” he asks.

She narrows her eyes at him, digging into her clutch and pulling out a ticket. She holds it up for him to look at. “Yep. Another coincidence. How strange.”

This time it really is a coincidence. What are the odds that my best friend is sitting right beside me at a fight my ex-boyfriend is the star of?

Shane sighs. “I’m going to the bar. Want anything?”

“Oh, whiskey, please? Neat.”

“Oh, come on, Jenny. I’ll get you a martini or something. Aren’t you tired of drinking whiskey all the damn time?”

“Nope. It’s the only thing that numbs me out.”

“You’re getting a martini.” He walks away before I can protest. I narrow my eyes at his back.

“I hate him,” Kylie snips, and it’s like she’s stolen the words right out of my mouth.

“He’s just being a dick because you popped up. I don’t get why you two can never get along.”

“Uh—what?!” Kylie sits forward, looking me over as if I’ve lost my ever loving mind. “I lost all of my respect for that asshole when he grabbed you that night in Yale. While you were drunk, remember? I mean, yeah, you were clumsy and being a little wild, but you were having fun and he had no right to come into that party and grab you like that.” She sits back and folds her arms. “He’s a jealous, rich snob. That’s what he is. And you know who he reminds me of?”

I narrow my eyes in her direction. “Who?”

“Trace.” She puts on a smug look.

I gasp. “No. He is
nothing
like Trace.”

“Really, Jen?” Her face is serious now.

I watch her for a moment before slouching back in my chair. She might be right, but I won’t admit to that. Trace was the ultimate asshole. Kylie’s ex-boyfriend, that Drake and Oscar had to beat the hell out of before he got the point.

Maybe if I sneak out now, I can escape the past. Escape Shane. Get away from this place and have a nice, refreshing whiskey at the bar.

Fuck martinis. They do nothing for me at all. I need a buzz. I need to let loose—feel free.

Someone walks into the cage and their presence interrupts my thoughts. Soon the lights grow dim and the man in the cage taps his microphone. He’s middle-aged with a Caesar style haircut and a nice, crisp tux on.

“This thing on?” he jokes with smiling eyes.

A few people laugh. Kylie does. I don’t.

“How are we tonight, huh? One of the biggest MMA fights in history is happening tonight and you are here to witness it in person. How does that feel?!”

People clap and scream around the stadium. They are loud, but something tells me this isn’t as loud as they will get tonight.

“Before we go on, I’d like to formally introduce myself. I am Joe Santos, champion of the 2009 Kings Crown Mixed Martial Arts. See, I have trained with these men a lot after retiring. I have watched them in and out of the ring, working hard, staying dedicated, and focusing on the one thing they love.” He grins as he looks around the stadium. “That one thing is fighting, ladies and gentleman.”

People clap, whistle, and scream again.

“Now, I am not one to instigate,” he continues, “but we’ve been hearing a lot of noise about these two fighters tonight. One of them will take home the belt. Who will it be?” Everyone starts shouting names. Kylie screams Doomsday and I really want to cover her mouth and drag her out of the stadium.

Joe Santos flashes a cool, wicked smile, as he peers around the stadium. “Well, ladies and gentlemen. I guess we will just have to see who the winner is.” He points in the direction of something and the lights go out completely.

Strobe lights flash, spotlights dancing all over the place. “Introducing our first fighter! A man with great strength—a man with no conscience at all! A fighter that is always ready—always on top of his game! The biggest man I have ever seen in Kings Crown history! Give it up for The Slayerrrrrr!”

The crowd goes nuts. They cheer, boast, and scream, and when the spotlight finally lands on an entryway, out comes this Slayer.

Oh. My. God. He is enormous.

He’s a giant, from what I see. As he comes down the aisle, walking to a metal rock song I would never know the name of, he snatches off his hood, climbs into the cage, and then removes his gray and red robe.

He hunches forward, flexes his arms, until his fists touch, and then roars. It’s not louder than the music, but it’s close.

I blink rapidly. He is truly intimidating and for a split second I’m afraid that he’ll end up tying Drake into a pretzel.

Muscle stacked on top of muscle. A bald head with tattoos on it, one of which I can clearly see is a medieval knife. His mouthpiece has his fighter name on it. I see that on the screen they have above the cage, as the cameraman scurries backwards in front of him.

“That guy is freakishly huge,” Kylie guffaws. I look at her. She looks at me. Yeah, though I want to hate Drake, I totally fear for his life right now.

“Okay, now.” Joe Santos talks into the mic again. “Now that we’ve gotten your attention, let’s hear a little noise for our next competitor. A young, talented man that has never lost a match. A kid that will fight down to blood and bone. A man they call un-fuck-wittable! You know what that means? That means you CAN’T fuck with him! And you know why? It’s because you can’t
beat
him. He’s quick. He’s lethal. He’s a true hothead in the ring, but we love him for it! Give it up, for the almighty…
DOOOOMSDAY
!”

If I thought the crowd went nuts for The Slayer, I am completely wrong. They go ballistic as soon as they hear the name Doomsday.

A song comes on—
Won’t Back Down
by Eminem and Pink, and my chest tightens as the spotlight lands on him.

A silky, metallic blue hood covers his head, casting a shadow over the top half of his face. All I can make out is his flexed jaw.

He walks forward, throwing a few jabs in the air and then dropping his hands, rolling his shoulders.

And I don’t believe it, but as a few girls reach for him, screaming and wailing, something happens beneath that hood. A wicked smirk sweeps across his lips.

My heart fails me…and not in a bad way.

His march continues, and following behind him are a group of men.

Two of whom are the twins.

Otto, surprisingly, looks different. He has definitely grown out of his baby face. His hair is longer. He sports a ponytail and a full, thick beard. He smiles at the girls that were just screaming for his cousin.

Oscar looks the same… but different. He looks stronger, like he lifts weights more than once a day. The twins no longer look like twins unless you really look at them.

Oscar’s hair is still cut short, but his red curls are more luscious and shiny. He follows closely behind Drake with a careful eye.

I hear Kylie sigh as she watches him walk down the aisle. “Look at him…” I look over at Kylie and her eyes are dreamy, focused on Oscar.

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