There’s no time to let the feeling of failure settle in before I jump to my feet and push past a crowd trying to make their way into the cage for photos and interviews.
“Don set this whole fucking thing up!” I snap at Darryl as I pass him.
My eyes are on him, the guy that has my girl tightly in his grasp. I push past a few camera guys at the bottom of the stairs, shoving one a little too hard and knocking him on his ass. From my peripherals, I see Jackson talking to me—yelling at me—but I don’t stop. The brute lets her go as I approach and he cleverly hides behind Olivia, knowing the rows are two small for me to get to him without hurting her.
“You’re going to put your hands on my girl?” I shout and a few people sitting flee from their seats. Olivia races forward and plants her hands on my stomach in an effort to hold me back, but I continue to walk toward him without struggle.
“Seth, don’t. It’s not worth it, don’t do it,” she begs, tears still fresh in her eyes.
More of the crowd flees, afraid to get hurt in the crossfire.
The big guy takes a step back as security guards swarm in to protect him from me. They circle us, pulling us back and out toward the rooms. Olivia clings to me as I push against the guards, but there’s too many of them. As I peer over one of their shoulders I see Jackson swing hard and connect with the brute-asshole’s face. He goes down hard and Jackson is crushed under the bodies of two large security guards. Over the speakers, I hear Matt Somers introduce Don as a new contender in the MMAC. After that, all I see is red.
The security guards throw us into my locker room and shut the door. My entire team buzzes with discussion on the fight and how the ref should have called it when I was smashing Don with my elbows. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that Don set me up. I fucking lost. For the first time in my life, I lost a goddamn fight and it was to Don Russell. The thought sinks to my stomach like a rock and I growl as Olivia cuts my gloves off. When my hands are free, I push off the bench, grab the nearest chair, and throw it across the room. The whole team falls silent and beside me I hear Olivia gulp.
“Get out!” I demand, not wanting any sympathetic looks from them. I feel shit enough. They open the door and the security guards let them out. Olivia doesn’t follow, even though I wanted her to.
“If you’re going to look at me like that, you can leave, too,” I tell her, feeling my eyes narrow.
She averts her gaze, dropping it to the floor and fidgeting nervously with her fingers. “It wasn’t your fault, he played you,” she says to me, inching closer.
“I still lost. Regardless of anything, I got distracted and I lost the fight. Now, he’s in the same league as me. Now, I’ll see him everywhere and he will look at me with that smug face and I just can’t—ughhh!” I lash out and punch the brick wall.
Pain crepitates through my hand and I like it. It takes the pressure of my chest.
Olivia
“It’s okay,” I tell him, my throat becoming thick with emotion as he hits the brick wall again. I cringe as my hand aches in sympathy. He whips around and I take a defensive step back.
“It’s not okay!” he shouts, kicking a stray plastic chair halfway across the room. I jump as it collides with the concrete wall and a loud slap echoes around us. “What about this entire situation is okay? Are you okay with Don being in the MMAC?” He steps closer, his eyes flaring violently and I shake my head. “Are you okay with him breathing down your neck at events just to spite me?” Seth grips my arms and pulls me into him. I shake my head again. “Are you okay with him touching you just to get a rise out of me?”
I swallow hard as my knees shake. “No.”
“Then fill me in. Which part of this is okay?”
I blink rapidly as a hot tear rolls down my cheek. “None of it.”
He lets me go and confirms my words. “None of it. So don’t fucking tell me it’s okay. I’m not a child. I don’t need to be reassured with lies.”
He reaches for his hoodie on the bench and shrugs it on. He heads for the exit, grabs a cap with the MMAC logo on it off the hook and opens the door. The security guards arch up at Seth’s appearance.
“Where are you going?” I shout.
“Out.” He slams the door, leaving me alone in the room. I stare at the white door, confused and hurt. My chest is tight and I feel like I’m wearing a corset four sizes too small. Does he blame me? Is this my fault? The door swings open as I sink to my knees on the floor. Darryl and Selena step inside. Instantly, Selena moves to my side and places a comforting arm around my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her waist and cry freely into her shoulder.
“O?” she mumbles sympathetically.
I drop my head as the tears flow harder.
“I’ll go find him,” Darryl mutters, closing the door.
“I didn’t mean to…” I sniffle and Selena pulls me close. “It wasn’t my fault.”
“I know, honey. Seth’s just mad. He’ll be okay once this all wears off.”
I shake my head. She didn’t see his eyes—she didn’t see how dark they were. There was no love on his face, only pure hate. She rocks me slowly as my mascara-darkened tears fall onto her pretty white dress.
“Let’s get you home and when Seth comes back, he’ll be calmer and you two can talk.”
I peer up at her, feeling like a small child. “You think so?”
She smiles, but even I can see her uncertainty. “Yeah.”
Selena drags me to my feet and I use the bottom of my black shirt to wipe my face. She keeps a comforting arm around me as she escorts me from the room. As soon as we’re in the hallway, people have their microphones and cameras in my face. Lights are going off, questions are being thrown at me and an overwhelming lump forces its way into my throat again.
“Piss off, vultures,.” Selena growls, pushing me through the noisy crowd.
I wonder if Seth had to deal with them on his way out or if he just missed them. They all seem to be unscathed, so one can assume they were lucky enough to avoid him.
Selena drops me home and then heads back to the arena to find Jackson. No one has seen him since he hit the guy that grabbed me and we don’t know if he’s being held in a security room somewhere or in jail—he could be anywhere.
I pace the hallway outside our room for an eternity and every time the elevator sounds off, anticipation and fear washes over me—only to be replaced by utter disappointment. I receive a text from Selena saying Jackson is okay and they’re back in their room. Two down and two to go. After my second hour of pacing, I re-enter the room and have a shower. I do everything in an absent-minded daze, from undressing, to washing myself and climbing into a cold bed—all of it—I do without any real knowledge. The only thing I can think of is Seth and what he’s doing, and Don and what he did. He didn’t win the right to be in the MMAC, he stole it. I hear the door downstairs shut and I’m jerked from my thoughts. My heart breaks through my lungs and slams into my ribs as I peel the blankets back and slide out of bed. I put my Seth shirt back on and head down the stairs. The lights are off, it’s dark, and if it weren’t for the bright neon of Vegas that shine through the window, I wouldn’t have been able to see a damn thing—including Seth, who has dropped onto the couch. I stroll over to him and my eyes zero in on his chest, it rises and falls in an even pant and my body almost sags in relief.
“I lost, O.” He sighs, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I’m sorry.”
Sorry? I drop to my knees in front of him and run my hands up his thighs. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
I hear his breathing become uneven and my body tenses. Is he crying? I can’t tell. If he is, he’s doing a good job at concealing it from me.
“I wanted to win so bad…but I fucked it up.”
“Hey,” I say with more aggression this time. “You did nothing wrong. You were perfect. Don played you.”
“And I let him…I let him play me.”
I hear Seth sniffle and he pulls away from me, leaning his head on the back of the couch. He is crying…and he doesn’t have to shield it from me, I won’t hold it against him. In my world, only real men cry. He pinches the bridge of his nose and clears his throat, forcing himself to stop.
“I don’t want to do this anymore. Fighting, I mean. I’m done.”
“You’re done, just like that?”
He doesn’t respond.
“You beat Don months ago, did he quit? You beat world wrestling champion Junior Moset two weeks ago, do you think he quit?” Still nothing. “No. He’s scheduled to fight another opponent in two weeks. So you lost, big deal. You showed everyone that you’re human, and wins don’t stand out as much as comebacks do. Do you think people will be talking about Seth’s Marc’s loss? No, they’ll be talking about Don Russell’s comeback—his revenge—and when you attend the press conference tomorrow morning, you will promise them an epic comeback. You will promise to deliver your fans Don’s head on a silver-fucking-platter, not disappoint them by quitting because it got too hard.”
He looks down at me. “Is that what you want me to do? To get revenge on him?”
“I want more than revenge, Seth. I want you to humiliate him. I want you to beat him so bad he gets a nervous twitch every time he sees a cage.”
Seth’s nods slowly, letting my words sink in. “Then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”
“I’ll be back,” Seth tells the cameras. “In four months I’ll be back to put him in his place, but first, I’m going to go home, marry my girl, and take her somewhere nice.” I hear the ring girls beside me sigh and I bite back a smile. “And when I get back, I’m going to hurt Don beyond the point of redemption. He’ll be so embarrassed by the beat down I put on him, he’ll leave the MMAC for good. That I promise you.”
Seth winks at me, the small cut on his eyebrow bowing with it and I smile widely in response.
“You heard it, ladies and gentlemen,” Matt Somers announces with a wry smile. “The third and final fight between Seth Marc and Don Russell will be settled in the cage on July sixteenth.”
And just like that, Matt forces Don back into Seth’s life and the drama between the two starts all over again, only this time, Seth is out for blood.
Epilogue
Seth
“Will you keep still?” Mum scolds me, fussing with my blue tie and making sure it laid the proper way under my collar and waistcoat.
“What do you want me to do?” I groan. “I’m nervous.”
I’m more than capable of dressing myself, but I let Mom do it, knowing that it makes her feel good to fuss over me, like a real mother would.
“You’re marrying the love of your life. You should be excited, not nervous.”
She reaches around me and pulls my jacket off its coat hanger. Mom holds it open for me and I slip my arms into it, shrugging it on over my shoulders.
“What, I can’t be both?” I ask and she smooths the palms of her hands over my shoulders and rolls her eyes. I adjust my jacket, making sure it sits comfortably on me as she reaches for the boutonniere of some white flower and pins it to my lapel.
“Why do I have to wear flowers? I’m not the bride.”
From the couch next to me, Jackson chuckles. “You’ve complained so much this morning I’m really questioning who exactly the bride is today.”
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Hilarious.”
“You wear it to match her, and it’s not just a flower, it’s a phalaenopsis orchid blossom, and it just so happens to be Olivia’s mother’s favorite flower so watch what you say about it around her. That woman can be very—”
“Intense,” I answer.
“Controlling,” Jackson adds and we both chuckle.
“Are we talking about Olivia’s mom?” Maddi asks, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. How did she know we were talking about Olivia’s mother? Scratch that, how nice of her to make it. I haven’t seen her since I gave her money to stop stripping—two months ago. I never received an RSVP back from her—not even a text to say congratulations.
“You’re alive,” I deadpan.
“Yeah, sorry, I kind of dropped off the face of the Earth for a while. I’m back now, though. You didn’t think I’d miss your wedding, did you?”
“Actually, I did.”
“Never fear, brother.” She laughs, grabbing a fistful of her long, pink dress and walking over to the couch. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She drops in next to Jackson. “It’s not every day you witness the impossible.”
Jackson snickers and I narrow my eyes at them.
“Enough, the pair of you. This is Seth’s big day and we should be as supportive as we can.” Mom finishes pinning in the orchid and takes a step back. Her floor length red gown sways around her feet and tears well in her eyes as she clasps her hands over her chest. “Perfect.” She smiles up at me. “You look so handsome.”
“Gorgeous,” Jackson snorts, nudging my sister. “I can hardly contain myself.”
I ignore them and their snickering. There’s a knock at the door and Darryl pops his head inside.
“All of the guests are here and Olivia is ready. Are you?”
Another bout of nervousness twists my stomach, but I nod my head despite it. He pushes the door open wider and I exit through it. I stroll eagerly down a hallway and out a small door, into the main room of the large church. Lively chatter erupts on my entrance, followed closely by Mom and Maddi. They take their seats in the front row and hold each other’s hands like they’ve never had a disagreement in their lives. It’s nice to see. It’s nice to see my family with some semblance of love and normality after the craziness of Dad’s death.
