In Your Corner
Page 20
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“Yeah. Starting with yours.”
“And she means it.” Makayla slides an arm around my waist and joins the group.
“Traitor.” I glare and mutter under my breath. “I knew there was no emergency call.”
“Best friend watching your back,” she whispers. “And I did have an emergency. You needed someone to shake some sense into you and I wasn’t able to do it. Looks like my plan worked better than expected.”
“You can expect to have no best friend tomorrow.” I push her hand away and follow the crowd to the octagon, but Makayla only laughs and falls into step beside me.
“How many times have you unfriended me only to refriend me twenty minutes later? Why not save yourself the stress and just realize I only have your best interests at heart?”
“Because you need to learn that my feelings are not to be trifled with—especially where they concern Jake. However, I’ll forgive you this time because I’m turning over a new, conservative, chaste leaf, and that means finding someone new, conservative, and…”
“Chaste?”
My lips quiver with a repressed smile. “Could be challenging.”
“Could be over fast.” Makayla giggles and a second later we’re both in tears.
“For a second there, I was worried about you,” she says between breaths. “I thought maybe you’d lost yourself after all.”
My smile quickly fades, and I bite my tongue before I tell her that she’s right and if not for Jake, I would still be in bed wondering where to find me.
Fuzzy joins us in the spectator’s area, and we chat about his dad and sister until Jake and Master Mayhem enter the cage. I shudder when the doors to the two entry-exit gates in the metal chain-link fence slam shut.
“Is it a real UFC cage?”
Fuzzy nods. “Now that the club is sanctioned, everything has to be regulation. The cage is thirty-two feet in diameter.”
“Torment also got the taller fence to accommodate our taller fighters.” Makayla gives me a wicked grin. “Like Jake.”
Jake spins around and I am treated to a perfect view of the strong, muscular planes of his broad back and…I take a step closer and frown. “When did he get those tattoos? He only had two when we were going out.”
Fuzzy shrugs and gives me a curious look. “I joined the club about a year and a half ago. Met Jake. He was going through a rough patch. His brother had just died and he was trying to sort out some other…personal stuff. One night we went out, got really hammered. He decided to get tatted up. And that wasn’t all he did.”
Makayla has the good sense to give an apologetic shrug when I turn and give her a “why didn’t you tell me” glare.
“I didn’t think you’d want to know,” she says.
Shayla, now sporting a black and white referee shirt, checks Jake’s gloves, and I take the opportunity to check out his ink. His new tattoos are breathtakingly gorgeous. A tribal design spans his upper back, covering the tops of his shoulders and his shoulder blades like wings. The two sides mirror each other with two curved lines gracing either side of his spine. I imagine running my fingers over his muscular back, tracing along the lines and ridges…
“I love tats too,” an all-too-observant Makayla whispers over the crowd’s chants of “rage in the cage.” “Sometimes I just want to lick Torment’s tats all over, but the minute I get my tongue anywhere near him, it all goes to hell and I find myself in yet another new position. His creativity boggles my mind.”
For a moment, I indulge myself in my own lick-the-tattoos fantasy but with Jake as the star, only to be rudely interrupted by the shrill blast of Shayla’s whistle.
Moments later, the fight begins. Master Mayhem rushes Jake and slams him up against the cage. Shayla blows a warning whistle and Master Mayhem backs away. Although he’s around the same height as Jake, Master Mayhem is twice as wide, with the physique of a professional bodybuilder and the powerful moves of a bull.
Jake circles on the outside as they feel each other out. Master Mayhem steps between Jake and the cage and throws a left, hitting Jake in the jaw before driving him into the fence. Jake pushes him off and staggers to his feet. Master Mayhem trips him. My heart skips a beat as he falls to his knees, but in seconds he is back on his feet.
“Maybe he should be sparring with someone less…experienced.” I shoot a worried glance in Fuzzy’s direction as if he would be able to stop the fight.
Fuzzy barks a laugh. “Jake’s playing him. He doesn’t fight the way people expect him to fight. He’ll fake weakness or an injury, stagger around the ring. Sometimes he just outright breaks the rules.”
“Most times he doesn’t follow the rules.” Makayla glances over at a frowning Torment and sighs. “Torment said Jake’s had warnings at every practice fight over the last few weeks. Not good for the reputation, especially if he wants to fight on the amateur circuit.”
A few seconds later, Jake pulls an illegal move, a downward elbow strike. He gets a warning. When the fight resumes, he pounces on Master Mayhem and digs his fingers into his opponent’s clavicle. Master Mayhem’s face contorts in pain. Shayla blows her whistle and stops the fight again.
“Two warnings now.” Fuzzy shakes his head. “If this was an actual event, he would risk disqualification. Damned renegade fighter. If he keeps up that kind of behavior, Torment will throw him off the team.”
“And she means it.” Makayla slides an arm around my waist and joins the group.
“Traitor.” I glare and mutter under my breath. “I knew there was no emergency call.”
“Best friend watching your back,” she whispers. “And I did have an emergency. You needed someone to shake some sense into you and I wasn’t able to do it. Looks like my plan worked better than expected.”
“You can expect to have no best friend tomorrow.” I push her hand away and follow the crowd to the octagon, but Makayla only laughs and falls into step beside me.
“How many times have you unfriended me only to refriend me twenty minutes later? Why not save yourself the stress and just realize I only have your best interests at heart?”
“Because you need to learn that my feelings are not to be trifled with—especially where they concern Jake. However, I’ll forgive you this time because I’m turning over a new, conservative, chaste leaf, and that means finding someone new, conservative, and…”
“Chaste?”
My lips quiver with a repressed smile. “Could be challenging.”
“Could be over fast.” Makayla giggles and a second later we’re both in tears.
“For a second there, I was worried about you,” she says between breaths. “I thought maybe you’d lost yourself after all.”
My smile quickly fades, and I bite my tongue before I tell her that she’s right and if not for Jake, I would still be in bed wondering where to find me.
Fuzzy joins us in the spectator’s area, and we chat about his dad and sister until Jake and Master Mayhem enter the cage. I shudder when the doors to the two entry-exit gates in the metal chain-link fence slam shut.
“Is it a real UFC cage?”
Fuzzy nods. “Now that the club is sanctioned, everything has to be regulation. The cage is thirty-two feet in diameter.”
“Torment also got the taller fence to accommodate our taller fighters.” Makayla gives me a wicked grin. “Like Jake.”
Jake spins around and I am treated to a perfect view of the strong, muscular planes of his broad back and…I take a step closer and frown. “When did he get those tattoos? He only had two when we were going out.”
Fuzzy shrugs and gives me a curious look. “I joined the club about a year and a half ago. Met Jake. He was going through a rough patch. His brother had just died and he was trying to sort out some other…personal stuff. One night we went out, got really hammered. He decided to get tatted up. And that wasn’t all he did.”
Makayla has the good sense to give an apologetic shrug when I turn and give her a “why didn’t you tell me” glare.
“I didn’t think you’d want to know,” she says.
Shayla, now sporting a black and white referee shirt, checks Jake’s gloves, and I take the opportunity to check out his ink. His new tattoos are breathtakingly gorgeous. A tribal design spans his upper back, covering the tops of his shoulders and his shoulder blades like wings. The two sides mirror each other with two curved lines gracing either side of his spine. I imagine running my fingers over his muscular back, tracing along the lines and ridges…
“I love tats too,” an all-too-observant Makayla whispers over the crowd’s chants of “rage in the cage.” “Sometimes I just want to lick Torment’s tats all over, but the minute I get my tongue anywhere near him, it all goes to hell and I find myself in yet another new position. His creativity boggles my mind.”
For a moment, I indulge myself in my own lick-the-tattoos fantasy but with Jake as the star, only to be rudely interrupted by the shrill blast of Shayla’s whistle.
Moments later, the fight begins. Master Mayhem rushes Jake and slams him up against the cage. Shayla blows a warning whistle and Master Mayhem backs away. Although he’s around the same height as Jake, Master Mayhem is twice as wide, with the physique of a professional bodybuilder and the powerful moves of a bull.
Jake circles on the outside as they feel each other out. Master Mayhem steps between Jake and the cage and throws a left, hitting Jake in the jaw before driving him into the fence. Jake pushes him off and staggers to his feet. Master Mayhem trips him. My heart skips a beat as he falls to his knees, but in seconds he is back on his feet.
“Maybe he should be sparring with someone less…experienced.” I shoot a worried glance in Fuzzy’s direction as if he would be able to stop the fight.
Fuzzy barks a laugh. “Jake’s playing him. He doesn’t fight the way people expect him to fight. He’ll fake weakness or an injury, stagger around the ring. Sometimes he just outright breaks the rules.”
“Most times he doesn’t follow the rules.” Makayla glances over at a frowning Torment and sighs. “Torment said Jake’s had warnings at every practice fight over the last few weeks. Not good for the reputation, especially if he wants to fight on the amateur circuit.”
A few seconds later, Jake pulls an illegal move, a downward elbow strike. He gets a warning. When the fight resumes, he pounces on Master Mayhem and digs his fingers into his opponent’s clavicle. Master Mayhem’s face contorts in pain. Shayla blows her whistle and stops the fight again.
“Two warnings now.” Fuzzy shakes his head. “If this was an actual event, he would risk disqualification. Damned renegade fighter. If he keeps up that kind of behavior, Torment will throw him off the team.”
