The Silencer: A Bad Boy MMA Romance (4 page)

Jason

When I woke up that morning, I had a feeling that it was going to be a good day. I had a date with a beautiful woman and I was feeling nervous about it. There I was, a big, bad-ass cage fighter and I was sitting on the side of my bed feeling nervous about a fucking date.

To be honest, I couldn’t remember the last time I had been on an actual date. I was so used to picking up a woman at one of my fights or coming across one in a bar who knew all about me and my reputation. All I had to do with those women was just give them a look—the look—before taking them home and fucking their brains out.

Shelly wasn’t that type of woman. She seemed like a girl who has integrity and there was no way she’d be giving it up on the first date. Not only that, but she was the person who was directly in charge of my brother’s care so I was going to treat her with the utmost of respect.

That’s not to say that I wouldn’t have jumped at the chance to get her into my bed if the opportunity presented itself. She had curves in all the right places, full hips and a rack to die for. Besides, those quiet girls are always the best in bed. I don’t know what it is about them but the ones who seem shy and timid are always the ones that will rock your world when it comes down to it.

I had just gotten up to make myself some breakfast when my cell phone started ringing. I was starving so I ignored, but I’d only just grabbed a couple of frozen waffles out of the freezer when my phone started ringing again.

I grabbed my phone and looked at the screen. It was Damon Rivers calling. He’s the president of Monster Cage Fighting, the MMA group that I fight for. He’d also become an unofficial trainer and coach for me, taking an interest in me when he realized I was self-training so I couldn’t afford a gym.

“What’s up Damon?” I said as I answered the phone while popping my waffles into the toaster.

“Jason, my man, I’m calling to offer you a fight.”

That was odd. He’s the promoter and the matchmaker. He usually just made the fight and I went with it.

“You’re offering me a fight? Don’t you usually just tell me who my opponent is?”

“Yeah, but this one is different. This has the opportunity to take your career to the next level.”

“Would you spit it out Damon?” I said as my waffles popped up. “I’ll fight anyone. You know that. Just tell me who in the hell my opponent is going to be.”

“Well, I still have to get the contracts together and set an official date but you’d be going up against Dodson.”

“Dodson? Are you talking about Eric Dodson?”

“Yep, Eric ‘Dot Your Eye’ Dodson. You want the fight?”

“Fuck yeah I want that fight. Make it happen.”

I was stunned at what he had just said. Eric Dodson was a big time opponent and I found it a little hard to believe that he’d be coming to fight within our organization. It was only fifteen months ago that he was the world heavyweight champion of Championship Cage Fighting. A few losses in a row had found him cut from his home organization.

There were plenty of people who were surprised when he was cut. Sure, he was on a bit of a losing streak but I watched those fights. Every single one of them had been a close split-decision and, if I’m being honest, I think the judges got it wrong in two of those fights. That’s why fighters are trained to try to get the knockout or submission. You never want to leave your fight in the hands of the judges.

Even though he’d recently been released from his contract, he was still considered by many to be one of the best MMA fighters in the world. To me, it would be an honor to step into the cage with him. I also knew that if I was able to earn a victory over him, it might be what I needed to finally open doors to larger promotions for me.

There was just one problem. I’d need to step up my training if I wanted to have any chance to win against a world-class opponent such as Dodson. The gear that I had was falling apart and there was no way I’d be able to prepare myself for the fight with what I had. I called Damon back to let him know about my concerns.

“Damon, I feel like I can beat the guy but I need to be able to get some training in. I can’t afford a full training camp anywhere. What in the hell and I’m gonna do?”

“The fight with Dodson is going to be at least a few months away. What I can do is get you onto as many of the weekly cards as I can. Instead of training camps, you’ll have actual fights to keep you on top of your game.”

“That sounds good, but how is that going to help me actually prepare for Dodson?”

“I figure if I put you up against guys with a similar style, it will help you quite a bit. Plus, it will let you earn money as you prepare. Maybe you can put some of it into some real training, even if it’s not a full camp.”

“Yeah, I can do that. I appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem. You know you’re my golden boy but I can’t keep you around forever. Eventually, you need to get out there and make a name for yourself. I wish I could do more to help you but I’m just an old man. You need to make sure you keep your head in the game, though. This fight is a big deal. If you lose one of your tune-up fights, I’ll have no choice but to give the fight to whoever it is that beats you.”

“So no pressure then?”  I laughed.

“Please. You are Jason Fucking Stark. The Silencer. It would take a miracle for any of these guys to beat you.”

I hung up the phone, excited about the possibility of my career turning a huge corner. I couldn’t think about that, however, or I’d end up driving myself crazy. I had a date and I needed to focus on that.

CHAPTER FIVE

Jason

When I pulled up in front of Shelly’s apartment to pick her up for our date, I realized that I was dating above my means. She didn’t quite live in the uppity rich areas of the Detroit suburbs but she wasn’t far off. In comparison to my shit hole apartment, she might as well have been living in a mansion inside of an exclusive gated community.

For a minute, I wondered if I was getting into something that was way over my head. I even thought about turning around and calling off the date. What would that have accomplished? I’d still see this woman anytime I’d go to visit my brother. Instead, I decided to man up, shut the car off and made my way to her door.

“You like nice,” she looked me up and down like I was a piece of eye candy. “I’ll be a few more minutes. Why don’t you come on inside and make yourself comfortable?”

Knowing women as I do, her saying that she’d be a few more minutes meant I was going to be hanging around for at least a half-hour, I went ahead and had a seat on her couch.

For being in such an upscale neighborhood, I would have expected her place to be decorated to match. I figured she’d have a huge mural painting hanging over her couch and expensive decor everywhere. Instead, her apartment was homier. There were a few pictures of her parents and what I assumed was her when she was younger.

Over to my right was her kitchen, where I noticed a collection of empty wine bottles that she used as decoration and pictures of wine country hung on the wall. Overall, I noticed that her apartment was neat and tidy; the complete opposite of mine. My cleaning regimen consisted of taking out the garbage and washing dishes.

Just as I had suspected, she came walking out about thirty minutes later.

“You ready to go?” she asked.

“I was born ready,” I replied.

When I asked her out, I promised her that I’d show her I was more than just some lunk. I promised her that I’d show her what a real gentleman was and I intended to hold up to my end of the deal. At my car, I opened the passenger side door for her and helped her inside, closing the door once she was situated.

As I walked around the car to get in, I stopped behind my trunk. Taking a deep breath, I gave myself a little pep talk. I hoped that I’d be able to remember that I wasn’t out with one of my usual cage sluts. I only hoped I wouldn’t fuck everything up somehow.

Shelly

He was being a perfect gentleman, just as he had promised he would be. Was it really who he was, though? I couldn’t help but wonder how much of the good guy stuff was an act. Everything I’d learned about him didn’t point to him being a nice guy. In fact, from everything I’d heard, he was the polar opposite of a gentleman.

Even the car he chose to drive pointed away from his good-guy act. He picked me up in a cherry red Camaro that had obviously been completely restored and well taken care of. Just like Jason’s body, his car screamed muscle. It even had one of those chain steering wheels.

What if everything he was doing wasn’t an act? I knew what my cousin had said about his reputation as a bad boy but what if everything she’d heard was wrong? She told me herself that she didn’t know Jason personally so it wouldn’t have been too far-fetched for her to not know what she was talking about. People love to spread rumors, especially when those stories are about people who are in the public eye.

Once we were inside his car, I had no idea what was coming next. My excitement continued to build until he took me to an empty theater where drama plays and musicals were once held. It had been years since The Danzig held any permformances.

He held the door open, ushering me through it as he bowed.

“Are we supposed to be here?” I hesitated. The last thing I wanted to do was get arrested. I could only imagine the rumors at work.

“Yeah, it’s fine. After you,” he waved his arm. “I know the owner of the building. It’s cool.”

I walked in, still not completely convinced that he was telling the truth, but who would even know we were inside?

The stage lights lit the grand stage, revealing a dusty floor and old stage props that were once used in some of the most popular shows. Must filled my senses as we approached the old, folded seats. Most of them were still lined with blood red cloth.

As we neared the stage, I noticed something—not a prop—it looked like a blanket and a picnic basket. He was eying me the whole time, waiting for my reaction.

“I thought we could have a romantic dinner at the play,” the edges of his lips curled upward. “There hasn’t been any good shows in a while so we’ll have to make due with tonight’s performance,” he hopped on stage and pretended to dance like a ballerina.

I busted out laughing. As hysterical as it was, I must admit that he did have some fancy foot work.

“My lady?” he extended his arm, pulling me onto the stage with him.

He unpacked sandwiches and chips with a couple of cans of soda—nothing fancy by any means, but it was the most romantic thing I had ever seen.

“I know you’re probably used to fancy restaurants and guys who have a lot of money, but I’m not like that. I bust my ass for everything I have.” He looked around the theater. “I wasn’t sure where to take you for our first date so I called my buddy, Bobby Brooks, and asked him if I could bring a date here.”

“You know what?” I bit my lip. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I like tonight’s performance.” I glanced over where he did his twinkle-toe act, “But if I could just see you do that dance one more time, and maybe get some video of it.”

We both laughed. Our date was going fine. It was more than fine; this bad ass, tattooed bad boy knew a thing or two about romancing a woman. He might be rough around the edges, but he was as smooth as butter.

This bad boy had just taken me on the best date that I’d ever had. We laughed so hard that there were times we were both out of breath. My cheeks actually hurt from smiling so much. One of the things I liked most about our date, though, was when we got to sit there and talk.

It was great getting to know him. Unlike a lot of my previous dates, he had an interest in getting to know me and he was quite humorous. Instead of spending the entire evening talking about himself, he asked me a lot of questions. He wanted to know about my childhood and upbringing. He wanted to know what I liked to do for fun. He wanted to hear any funny stories I had about my past. He just wanted to hear about me and I love it.

The last thing I wanted was for our date to be over and was feeling sad when he pulled up in front of my apartment complex. I had answered so many of his questions that I didn’t really get a chance to learn a whole lot about him, other than the fact that he does a wicked imitation of a ballerina, has a sense of humor and can think outside the box.

“Do you want to come inside for a little while?” I asked as he was opening up my car door.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked. “It’s kind of late. I’m sure you have to get to work in the morning.”

“Yes, I’m sure. I’ve had a great time with you and it’s a beautiful night out. We can sit out on my balcony and continue the conversation there.”

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed.

Inside my apartment, I kicked off my shoes and offered to put on a pot of coffee. I never wanted our night together to end. He might have been a tattoeed bad boy, but he had a very soft side that I doubt few people know about.

“Nah, I don’t drink coffee.”

“You don’t drink coffee? What kind of person doesn’t drink coffee?”

“What can I say? I’m more of an alcohol man myself.”

Shit, there he was talking about alcohol. Sasha said he was a big drinker and that comment seemed to point to her knowing what she was talking about.

“Um, I don’t really have much in the way of alcohol. I do have some white wine but that’s probably not something you’d be into drinking.”

“It’s not my favorite but I can deal with it. What do you have?”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve got some Moscato,” I said as I moved some things around so I could get to the back of the fridge. “Yep, here it is.”

Since he was going to have wine, I figured I’d join him. I grabbed two wine glasses out of my cabinet while he took care of the cork in the bottle. After pouring some for each of us, we made our way out to the balcony, him with the bottle in hand.

There were absolutely no clouds to be found and the stars were shining brightly. They looked bigger than I’d ever seen them before. As we began talking, it seemed as though he suddenly got excited as he told me about his fighting career.

“I got some big news today,” he took a swig from his glass.

“Good news I hope?”

“Yeah, very good news. Probably the best news I’ve ever gotten.”

“What?”

“I condense it for you, but the short version is that I got a call from my promoter this morning. He was calling to offer me the biggest fight of my career. It’s the kind of fight that could make my career and help take it to the next level. If I can win, it might help me get noticed by the bigger groups and I can start making some real money.”

“That’s awesome! Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“It’s a long story,” he looked at me. I wasn’t budging. I wanted him to talk and tell me about himself for a change. “Most of my money goes to pay for my brother’s care and rent. I don’t have much left at the end of the month so I can’t really have a real training camp. To make up for that, my promoter is setting me up with several fights between now and the big one. That will allow me to keep in shape while earning some money for training.”

“How long are you going to have between your fights?”

“I’m not sure. Probably not more than a couple weeks between each one. I have no doubt that I can win but once these guys find out about my big fight, they’re really going to be gunning for me. If I lose any fight, whoever beats me will take my place.”

What I was hearing was concerning to me. I didn’t know a whole lot about the type of fighting that he did, but I knew enough to know that it’s dangerous to have fights that close together. When I was meeting with Sasha, she was saying that most of these fighters have four or five matches per year. It sounded like Jason was going to have that many over the course of a couple of months.

Being in fight after fight makes it nearly impossible for his body to recover. If he got injured in his first fight, it would just get worse as he took more fights. It would be even worse if he got some kind of head injury.

I wanted to tell him everything I was thinking. I wanted to let him know that I was concerned for his well-being but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I understood why he was taking those fights. I knew what he was fighting for and I admired him greatly for that. He may be a bad boy to the bone, but he loved his brother and was willing to put his own health on the line to make sure he was cared for.

We continued talking until the wee hours of the morning, and I couldn’t believe that I had to be up for work in three hours. As I was letting him out, he stopped and grabbed me.

His lips came crashing down on mine as he kissed me deep and passionately. I’d be lying if I said I wanted to fight the urge to kiss him back. I wanted it, and I wanted more of him but I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. I’m sure girls threw themselves at his feet; I wanted him to know that I was different.

My knees were beginning to go weak and I wanted nothing more than the kiss to continue indefinitely. When he put his hand on my face, I felt like I was going to melt. It was quickly turning into a full-fledged make-out session before I pushed him away. I didn’t want to, but I had to. I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t end up as another notch in this bad boy’s bed post and I planned to keep that pledge, not matter how much my body begged me not to.

CHAPTER SIX

Jason

Who the fuck needs sleep? Certainly not me. I made it back to my apartment around 4 in the morning and went to bed almost immediately. I didn’t get to sleep very long since it was time to put in work. My alarm was blaring at 6:30 am and I was out in the streets of Detroit by 7:00.

As great as my date with Shelly had been, it was time to put her out of my mind. The only thing I could allow myself to focus on was the task at hand, and that task was my upcoming fight. That was going to be much easier said than done but I was going to do my absolute best to focus.

I grabbed my Zune out of my gym bag and put the headphones in my ears. Everyone I’ve ever come across likes to give me shit about my Zune. While all the other fighters are working out with their iPod’s and iPhone’s, I’ve got this piece of shit Microsoft device. Whenever someone asks me why, my answer is simple. I got my Zune for $14 on eBay and it plays my music, what else could I ask for?

I set up my playlist and made my way out the door. The streets in my neighborhood were clear, most likely because the drunks and addicts had stayed up all night and were fast asleep in their beds. I preferred it that way because I could run in peace without worrying about anyone fucking with me.

Since I didn’t have the money for a real training camp, I had to rely on the type of training that you’d see in the Rocky movies. That basically meant lots and lots of running. Even though I didn’t mind training, I hated to run and relied on my music to carry me through. I blasted the Foo Fighters, Twisted Sister, Blink-182, Queen and, of course, Survivor. My run would take me to the city streets where I would shadow box and work on my footwork for a couple of hours.

After running, I made my way back to my apartment to make myself some lunch. Since I was watching every penny I had to my name, lunch consisted of a can of tuna fish with mustard. It wasn’t extravagant but it did the job. Before I had even finished eating, Damon called me to let me know that one of his main event fighters for the following night had bowed out with an injury and I was going to be taking his place.

“Holy shit, could you have given me any more of a short notice?”

“It’s not like I knew until just now.”

“I know but fuck, I thought these were supposed to be tune-up fights to get me ready for Dodson.”