Consumed: A MMA Sports Romance (71 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Kya

I
curled up in the corner of the white sofa and tried to ignore the red wine
stains on the rug. Luckily, there was no sign of Dana Maria or any of her
friends besides the smears of body glitter and red spills they had left behind.
The plate of French fries I had ordered from room service sat untouched in
front of me. I was frozen in horror, my eyes locked to the screen of my laptop.

The photograph had gone
viral within seconds of Fenton leaving the restaurant. The snapshot showed the
angry security guard aiming the Taser at Fenton, Fenton facing him with fists
raised, Jackson trying to pull me out of danger, and me kicking my black heels
at the security guard. The savage look on my face held me captivated.

"In a strange turn
of the tables, admirer Kya Allen tries to defend the top ranked MMA fighter
Fenton Morris from a threatened security guard while nice-guy Jackson McRay
tries to save her from getting Tasered, too."

The story was all over
social media. Speculation was rampant about my relationship to Fenton as well
as his reason for crashing my date with Jackson. It was a drama-filled love
triangle we had served up to the paparazzi on a silver platter. Everyone
pointed out the picture said it all– Fenton's blue eyes on me instead of the
imminent threat of the Taser and me fighting off the most eligible bachelor
gentleman to come to the rescue of the infamous womanizer.

I shifted my study of the
photograph to Fenton and could not ignore the flutter of excitement in my
stomach. He had come to the restaurant specifically to disrupt my date with
Jackson. A man did not do something like that if he did not care about the
woman. Cell phone footage was staring to roll out of Fenton telling me
"You certainly don't want to be with him."

I had not denied it, but
then again I had not been given much of a chance to speak. And, I had not
figured out what Fenton meant about his sister's friends.

I sprang off the couch
and went to open my own bottle of red wine. Luckily, the dancers had not raided
the wine refrigerator and I did not care what vintage I was drinking. Had
Fenton just done it for the publicity?

An official statement had
been issued by the MMA putting Fenton on probation. There was no way he had
pulled the stunt at the restaurant to further his career.

I glanced at the door to
Fenton's room before I returned to the sofa. He had beaten me back to the suite
and was passed out cold when I arrived. Somehow, I was sure he already knew
about the probation. For all his wild acting, Fenton was a professional. That
is why he raised his hands and left the restaurant before things went any
farther.

My phone rang and I
picked it up. "Go ahead and give me the lecture, boss. I deserve it. Our
clients get the headlines, not us."

"Lecture you? Honey
baby, if I was there I would kiss you!" James crowed. "The publicity
is through the roof! The vitamin people are so impressed with the stir you've
created that they've sweetened the deal."

"Are you serious? I
thought the whole thing was shot and you're telling me it’s better than
ever?" I asked.

"Shh, pretend like
you meant all of this to happen. Pretend you did it all on purpose. I've been
telling everyone you are my protégé and that I taught you everything you know.
Don't make me look bad now, baby," James said.

"Because only you
would start a fight in a restaurant and almost get your star athlete Tasered in
order to boost his publicity and get more money for the endorsement deal,"
I said.

"Exactly. Keep up
the good work, gorgeous!"

My boss hung up the phone
and I closed my eyes. None of this was actually happening. I prayed I would
wake up with a bad hangover only to find it was my first night in Vegas. Then,
Fenton would be next to me and we would have a chance to start over.

The knock at the door
made me jump a foot into the air. I smoothed down the black dress I still wore
and steeled myself to greet the stripper, Dana Maria, and her friends. Instead,
my jaw hit the floor when Jackson slipped into the suite and grabbed my hand.

"I had to come by
and see how you are," he said. He kissed the back of my hand and then
handed a box of chocolate-covered strawberries. He then produced a bottle of
champagne and two flutes from his pockets. "I hear they go well with
champagne and I know you like that, so here I am. I figured dinner got screwed
up, so why not skip to dessert."

I opened my mouth, but no
sound came out. How could I explain to him that Fenton was asleep in the next
room? I had to tell him and try to make him believe it was strictly work before
Fenton appeared and things got even stranger than earlier.

Jackson pressed a finger
to my lips. "You don't have to say anything. I know you were pursuing
Fenton for work. None of what happened tonight was your fault. You had no idea
the guy would get crazy possessive of you and stalk you around Las Vegas."

He pulled me over to the
couch and unwrapped the champagne bottle. The pop of the cork made me wince and
when I opened one eye, I immediately looked at Fenton's door. "Jackson,
there is something I have to tell you," I said.

"I'm telling you,
Kya, there is no need to apologize. All I ask is that you taste one of these
strawberries and have a sip of champagne. I hear it is the perfect
combination," he said.

He lifted a strawberry to
my mouth and I was forced to take a bite. Then, he handed me a champagne flute.
I tried not to gulp it down and let the sweet oblivion help me escape my
awkward reality.

"Delicious
right?"

"Now, please,
Jackson, I have to tell you something about Fenton," I said.

"No, don't worry.
All I'm interested in is us," Jackson said. He leaned in and dropped a
sweet kiss onto my still fizzy lips.

"It looks like all
you're interested in is dying," Fenton interrupted. He stumbled against
the doorframe of his bedroom. "Stand up, McRay, there's no armed security
guard to do your dirty work for you this time."

"What the f?"
Jackson said. "He's staying here? You've got to be kidding me. What does
it take to get a minute alone with you?"

"I'm sorry, Jackson.
My company put us up here in the hopes of convincing him to take the
deal," I said.

"Come on,
sweetheart, don't lie to the poor man," Fenton said. He gave me a wicked
wink. "The suite was your idea, and it has been a sweet deal for both of
us."

Jackson jumped up from
the couch and squared off in front of Fenton. I was shocked that Jackson would
willingly fight Fenton when I saw Fenton's eyes glaze over and his body sway.

"Stop it right now,
both of you. Fenton, you're drunk, and, Jackson, you know he's in no shape to
fight you or anybody," I said.

"He's been asking
for a fight since the first night we met. You just strolled up and pulled her
away from me. I bet you're not even really interested in her; you just want to
mess with me. I know your type, always trying to get revenge on people who are
better than you," Jackson said.

"That's
enough." I pointed to the door. "He's not out to get you, this has
nothing to do with you. And, it has nothing to do with me, either. Fenton's
just making sure he keeps up his reputation, you know, the lone wolf that
doesn't need anyone. You need to leave; you need to go pass out.
Goodnight."

I put my hands on my hips
and waited. Jackson glowered at Fenton. I was surprised when his look extended
to me and felt relieved when he finally turned and headed out the door.

"Kya, I gotta tell
you, I gotta say… I'm going to be sick," Fenton said. He rushed into his
room and dove into the bathroom.

I cringed at the sounds I
heard, but could not in good conscience retreat to my room and shut the door.
Instead, I grabbed a large bottle of water from the refrigerator, found a
bottle of aspirin, and followed him in.

"Are you alright? How
much did you have to drink?" I asked.

Fenton shook his head
slowly, "I'm fine. Just mixed my liquors. Should have stayed passed
out."

"Why? Why did you
decide to do this?" I asked.

He pushed past me and
flopped into his bed. I pulled off his shoes and untangled his legs from the
sheet. He took the bottle of water and drank a small sip.

I thought he had passed
out again when he laid a hand on my wrist. "I was mad at you," he
said.

I turned my hand over and
squeezed his fingers. "I was mad at you, too, but I didn't get blind
drunk."

"No, you left,"
he said.

The way he said it
twisted my heart as if I had done something unforgivable. "I didn't leave.
I got out of your way. You had a guest, remember?"

"So, you went off
and picked up that pretty boy golfer?" he asked. "You trying to make
me jealous?"

"Jealous? I'm not
the one crashing dates around here," I said.

He smirked even as his
eyes drifted closed. "You know you don't have anything to be jealous
about. You just wanted me, I just wanted you."

I fought the urge to
brush back his thick black hair. Fenton eased farther back against the pillows
and flinched.

"Here, take some
aspirin. You're going to need a clear head when you see the photograph of all
of us," I said.

"One big happy
family?" he asked.

"One big pissed off
security guard," I said. "And, it's all over social media."

"Don't care about
that," he muttered. "Just know I've seen guys like Jackson before. He
looks good, but he's rotten. He only wants one thing."

"To ruin your
career?" I asked. "Oh, wait, that's you."

Fenton opened his eyes.
"Let me guess, I'm on probation."

"Did you do it on
purpose?" I was not sure I wanted to know the answer, but I could not help
but ask.

He shook his head. His
eyes never leaving mine. "Why are you still here, Kya?"

I set the aspirin down on
the bedside table and avoided his look. "The probation is nothing. All you
have to do is lay low until your next fight and everything will be fine."

"Seriously. Why are
you still here?"

I looked at Fenton again
and could not tell what he was feeling. It was impossible to know if he was
pushing me, mocking me, or protecting himself. No matter what way, I was not up
to the challenge. Fenton could hurt me too much, I already knew that.

"I heard from my
boss and he says the vitamin people are even more interested now that you've
gone viral," I said. "The deal is even better than it was and I have
to make sure you consider it."

"That's it? Just
doing your job?"

"It’s too good to
pass up," I said. The deal was so good that it was worth wrecking the
scraps of goodwill we had managed to pull back together. He deserved to hear
about it, no matter what it did to us.

"Get out."
Fenton turned off the light and rolled away from me. I got up and finally
retreated across the suite to my own bedroom.

Don't
be a fool, there is no us,
I reminded myself.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Fenton

I
woke up to my head pounding and my phone ringing. Kya's bedroom door was shut.
I would have slammed mine if I could stand the sound. Instead, I answered my
phone.

"It’s me," my
sister said.

"Where are you? I
thought you were going to stay here?" I rolled over and blinked at the
clock. "You're up early. I thought you would sleep in after your
shift."

"Kinda hard to sleep
in at my place," Dana Maria said.

I sat up and rubbed a
hand over my eyes. "Are you still in your car? That's why you were
supposed to be staying here. You can't keep doing that, Sis."

"It’s the best way
to save money. And stop giving me advice, Fenton. I've seen your life and I
gotta say, I think it’s a bigger mess than mine."

"That's not fair.
You've only seen me a few times. Maybe Vegas isn't bringing out the best in
me," I said.

"Don't blame the
town, Fen. And remember, you can't fight everything and everyone," Dana
Maria said.

"Yeah? And who
should be the first for me to kiss and make up with?" I thought about our
father and how he was never friends with anyone.

"I saw your picture.
Maybe you should start with that girl of yours. She was ready to fight for you.
You should return the favor. Anyway, I was just calling to let you know I'm
alright. I'll see you around, Fen." She hung up the phone.

I could not bear to face
the bright sunlight of the white decor living room. Still holding my phone, I
flopped back in bed to check the damage. The photograph was everywhere. It was
great publicity for me despite the probation. It was even great publicity for
the golfer; he looked like the hero good guy. I wanted to spit on him. The only
thing that stopped me was Kya.

If Kya had been the
untouchable good girl, the Country Club Princess, before, she was done now. All
the headlines and captions lambasted her. All the articles talked about her
going wild, letting loose, and, my personal favorite, tarnishing her halo. She
was in my territory now.

I would have felt bad for
her, if I did not remember catching her with the golfer just outside my bedroom
door kissing on the couch over glasses of champagne. The surge of anger burned
off some of my hangover. I got out of bed and marched to her door. What would I
say?

I turned and went to the
kitchen to make a hangover cure. I was just choking it down when I noticed the
folder and note on the counter:

         
I had to tell you about the offer. It is too
good to pass up. I understand you want to do everything on your own and that
makes sense to me. I'm the same way. That's why I am pursuing other athletes.
Now there's no pressure, I'm not depending on you. Make this decision for
yourself.
–
Kya

I opened the folder. She
was right; the deal was very generous. The contract was for a surprisingly long
period. It would set me up for long enough to get settled. It would help me
survive the ups and downs of my MMA career.

I tore the contract to
shreds.

Kya had not mentioned
anything about us. She had not explained why I caught her kissing Jackson McRay
on the sofa. She had very carefully kept work and personal life separated. I
should have respected that. It seemed the more I tried to maintain that
separation, the worse my life got.

"Don't have a
hangover, do you? Because I'm going to make you drink that egg thing that
Aldous always cooks up." Kev let himself into the suite and joined me in
the kitchen. "Jesus, what does that little scrap of paper say? Is that a
new offer?"

"I'm not taking
it."

Kev leaned on the kitchen
counter. "You didn't think I would reach that conclusion on my own? What's
with the shredding?"

"I just don't want
any more distractions. I need to focus on defeating Maxwell Lewis," I
said.

"Oh, right. So it
has nothing to do with Kya Allen," Kev said. "I thought you two were
becoming a thing."

"She's only
interested in me as a client." I pointed to the scraps of contract and the
note.

Kev read the note and
shook his head at me. "You realize she was only doing the right thing. She
owed it to you and to her clients to pass along the new offer. Takes integrity
to do that even if it jeopardizes her personal interests. I mean, I guess.
That's what I hear about integrity, anyway."

I chucked Kev in the
shoulder and he complained about the bruise all the way down to the waiting
cab. He distracted me with his normal litany of near-conquests and sexual
fantasies. I had to smile. It was impossible to brood when Kev Casey was
around. The ride was quick and by the time we met Aldous at the gym, I was
ready to focus.

"Go team!" Kev
said. He peeled off to chat with a pair of female boxers.

I started the circuits
that Aldous timed. He had obviously seen the photograph, too, but my coach did
not say a word. He would not say a word unless I brought it up. I worked
harder. I would not be in Las Vegas training for the title fight without my
manager and my coach. No matter how much I wanted to be a lone wolf, I was part
of a team.

I had not realized it
before. Kev and Aldous were more than team members. Despite Kev's disgusting
conversational skills and Aldous' habit of preaching, they were my friends and
family. I had never struggled to separate our personal relationships from
business. We all lived what we did.

Kya was the same.

There was no reason to
keep her out of my life. She fit perfectly. All I had to do was show her I was
better than some Polo shirt wearing golfer. I trained hard, burning off all the
other distractions. I was going to win my next fight.

I meant to go straight
back to the suite and stay out of trouble, but suddenly, I was striding through
the casino. I saw Jackson McRay in his light blue Polo shirt. He leaned against
a video poker machine and toyed with Kya's copper curls. She pulled back and
smoothed her hair down, but then she smiled at him. I had to do something. I
would not cause a scene, but I would get Kya's attention.

"Oooh, Fenton
Morris. I've been dying to meet you!" The voice came through a strong
white light.

I blinked and discovered
a camera crew surrounding me. Actually, they surrounded a leggy blonde in a
short blue dress. I recognized her from all the headline websites that had
featured my photograph.

"Whoa, wait. I'm not
reality show material," I said.

"Oh, forget about
the cameras. I'm Sienna." She pressed against me and giggled.

I had to appreciate the
firm curves of her body and her blatant exploitation of my appearance in the
casino. Sienna was only skin-deep and easy to figure out. I wrapped an arm
around her waist and pretended the cameras were not there.

"You look like you
could be a good lucky charm," I said.

"Want me to blow on
some dice for you?" Sienna asked.

I laughed loudly and paraded
the reality show blonde farther into the casino. Kya looked up from her video
poker machine. Despite the outpouring of her winnings, she frowned at me. It
was not what I intended, but it certainly had grabbed her attention. She was
not the only one that could pursue other angles.

Over Sienna's wriggles
and giggles, I watched Kya brush off Jackson McRay. He looked ready to punch
someone until a horde of short-skirted fans surrounded him. Kya disappeared
from the casino. I suffered another half an hour of Sienna draped over me and
vamping for the cameras. Then, I unhooked her arms from my neck and headed
upstairs.

The bright white decor of
the luxury suite was lit only by the fireplace. Outside the wide windows all of
Las Vegas sparkled. Kya's door was shut tight. I wanted to knock on it, but
instead, I stood in front of the view. Las Vegas surprised me. I loved it.
Minutes from the neon and faux explosion of the Strip was the desert. And, in
between all the tourists and vacation facades, there were real people working
hard. For one moment, I was content. I could stay put. The suite was silent and
comfortable, Kya was in the other room safe and sound, and I felt good.

Instead of waking her up
and ruining everything with words, I went to my room. There in the middle of
the bed, was a stuffed black cat toy with a red ribbon around its neck. Kya had
scribbled a quick note:

Saw
your tattoo and thought you might like this. Who says black cats are unlucky?
You don't need luck; we all know you're going to win.
–
Kya
 

I tucked the black cat
under my arm. The black cat tattoo was entwined in the skin art all over my
back, bits and pieces from my life. Somehow, Kya knew the cat meant more to me
than my first motorcycle, the first cash I won fighting, or my first pair of
boxing gloves. She had seen straight through all the skulls and roses, the
stone angel and guns and picked out the one thing that summed up my entire
childhood.

My mother's sweet black
cat, Lucy. That cat lay on her bed, purred, and kept her warm, until she passed
away.

"Don't believe what
people say about black cats, Fenton," my mother had said. "Luck isn't
real, good or bad. It's all up to you."

I carried Kya's gift with
me to the fight the next day.

"A mascot, I like
it," Kev said. "Let's bring the black cat to the ring, let it get in
Maxwell Lewis' head."

I smiled. "Go
team."

There was a commotion
outside the locker room. Kev yelled at someone outside the door. "No one's
coming in. No one!"

"Who was it?" I
asked.

"Not Kya Allen, if
that's what's got you worried," Kev said. "She told me she's watching
it on the big screen in the casino."

I jumped up and down and
tried to stay focused.

Kev continued. "I
just figured you didn't want a whole reality show swarming around before you
head out to the ring."

"Sienna?" I
asked.

"Yup. Said she'll
catch up with you after the fight. Just let me know if you want me to take her
off your hands."

Kev then launched into an
entire storyline of what he would do with Sienna and how the cameras would have
to stop rolling almost immediately. I welcomed his normal drone and got myself
pumped up for the fight.

"You ready for this?
You're ready for this," Aldous said.

"I am. And when this
one's done, let’s sign that endorsement deal. It’s time to take things to the
next level," I said.