Bad Boy's Honor: An MMA Bad Boy Romance (18 page)

It hadn’t been my intention to give him the silent treatment. I even greeted him cheerfully at the beginning of our training session and waited for him to explain.  

He never did.  

That pissed me off. At the very least, he could have come up with some excuse. He didn’t even care enough to spin me a lie. We just started the training session as if nothing had happened last night. As if he hadn’t just gone off with his ex-girlfriend.

Riker wasn’t the type to offer information, and I wasn’t about to ask. I
wanted
to. The questions bounced around in my head.
What did your ex-girlfriend want to speak to you about? Why did you go off with her? Did you spend the night with her? Are you two back together?

Most importantly, is it already over between us?

Had it ever even begun?

I’d been casual about sleeping with someone I’d just met, much less again on the first real date as if I did it all the time. But that wasn’t me at all. Even the third date rule felt like I was rushing it.

I hated myself for being so hung up on a man I still barely knew. We’d had two great nights and been on one date. That was it.

He’d spent five years in prison and I knew nothing about it. He fought in an underground fighting ring, and I had no idea what that entailed. We weren’t as close as I’d assumed. I’d let him into my head, but he’d kept himself closed off behind thick steel walls that I couldn’t hope to permeate.

Riker started the session by trying to tire me out with a series of push ups, burpees, and star jumps. We didn’t talk, but today I didn’t need the distraction to keep me going. My mind was on issues far more traumatic than the physical abuse my body was going through.

“Let’s work on the punches,” Riker said, as he picked up some pads.  

Punches. That’s what I needed to do right now.

Riker held his hands up casually and started giving instructions, but he soon realized this wasn’t any normal session. My fists pounded into the pads with such force that the noise echoed around the gym and had the late-night stragglers turning their heads in my direction to see what was going on.

Riker even stumbled back a few times until he got used to how hard I was punching. He’d spared with men before, and I wasn’t naive enough to think I was stronger than them, but this was by far the most aggressive I’d ever been and Riker noticed.

He still didn’t say anything.

Eventually Riker stopped, although I still had energy left to keep going. It was amazing what anger could do for your motivation.  

“I think that’s enough for now,” Riker said, taking off the pads and throwing them to the floor. “Let’s do some more balance exercises.”

“No,” I said, bouncing from foot to foot to show that I wanted to keep active. “I want to go down to the cage and fight.”

Riker shook his head. “We’re not training in the cage. That’s where I fight. I don’t want you down there.”

“I’ve already been down there with Duke.”

Riker sighed, but still shook his head again. “He shouldn’t have done that. The cage isn’t a place for training. I have to fight there in a few weeks. I need to be in the right frame of mind, and that won’t happen if we mess around in there.”

“Who said anything about messing around? I want to go down there and fight.”  

I opened the cupboard and grabbed some of the boxing gloves. I did most of my training bare-fisted, because that’s how I’d fight on the street if I ever needed to. Right now, I wanted to throw some real punches that weren’t aiming for pads.

“We’re not fighting,” Riker said calmly.

I didn’t know if he was referring to the cold atmosphere between us all session, or the potential for some physical combat in the ring.

“Well,
I’m
fighting. If you won’t spar with me, I’ll just go find someone who will.”  

This will be damn embarrassing if none of the men here agree to get in the cage with me.

“Okay, okay,” Riker conceded. “Let’s go down to the cage.”  

Last night I’d been fresh from a shower, and hadn’t realized how cold it was down in the basement. Duke hadn’t turned on all the lights that night, or if he had, I’d been too out of it to pay any attention to my surroundings.  

The cage took center stage and was sounded by benches for people to crowd onto in an effort to get a view of the action.

Betting slips still littered the stone floor, even though there hadn’t been a fight down here in weeks.  

“Duke might want to clean this up,” I suggested. “Can’t imagine the police would take too kindly to evidence of illegal gambling.”

“The police won’t do anything,” Riker replied.

“Why not?”

“Because Duke has cameras up in each corner pointing at the crowd.”  

“So what?” I asked. “That just gives the police even more evidence.”

“Those cameras also record all the members of the police force that are in attendance at these fights, in addition to some very senior members of the mayor’s office.”

“Oh.”

“At least, that’s what we tell people. The cameras haven’t worked for years.”

Riker opened the cage door and let me inside. This time there was enough light to let me see the bloodstains coating parts of the metal cage, and the floor. They really needed a cleaner down here.

“Where are your gloves?” I asked Riker. He’d brought the pads, but that was it.

“What do I need gloves for?”

“I’d rather you didn’t hit me with your bare fists,” I admitted.

“I’m not going to hit you at all.”

“You fucking well are. I said I wanted to fight and I meant it.”

Riker wanted to argue, but I stared into his eyes until he backed down and grabbed a pair of gloves hanging from the hook on the wall. He also made me wear one of those padded bands that went around my head, and a gum shield that I sure hoped was new.

“How do you want to do this?” I asked, struggling to speak coherently with the shield in my mouth.

“Just try to hit me,” Riker replied.

Easy. I’d been doing that all morning. I swung a punch, hitting his glove out of habit.  

“No, aim for the face,” Riker insisted. “You wanted a fight, well you’ve got one. You don’t try to punch someone’s hands in a fight.”

I had to adjust my stance so that I could punch up to Riker’s face, instead of straight forward where he held his hands.

Apparently I
really
wanted to punch Riker in the face. I didn’t even hesitate. I saw him open and swung with my right hand. It was a good punch, and on target, but Riker blocked in time, sending my fist sailing harmlessly past his face.

I lost my balance, but was careful not to fall into Riker this time. That’s how all this had started in the first place.

“Again,” Riker commanded.  

He didn’t instruct me on which hand to use, so I swung on instinct, using whatever hand had the most strength and coordination at the time. It was sloppy, and Riker blocked each punch with ease.

He’d been watching me throw punches for weeks now, so he knew how I moved and reacted accordingly. I tried to change things up, but he still read me perfectly.  

Then I decided to bluff.  

I went to throw a punch with my left hand, but stopped it in mid-air and used my right hand instead. It worked. My gloved smashed straight into his face with a satisfying thud. I thought I’d done some damage, but when I looked back up, I saw that he had barely raised an eyebrow.  

I’d given it my all, but I couldn’t hope to hurt him. I didn’t even know why I wanted to. He probably didn’t deserve it. This was all my fault for letting myself get too close, too quickly.  

All he’d done is take up an offer to sleep with someone when they offered it to him on a plate. He’d hardly be the first guy guilty of that offense.

“Punch me,” I said firmly. “I want to practice my blocking.”

“No chance.”  

I held my hands up in front of my face. “Duke did,” I lied.  

“I’m not hitting you.”

“No, you won’t. But I want you to try.”

Riker sighed and shook his head, but he took up a fighting stance. “When I say left, block with your left hand. When I say right—”

“Block with my right hand. Yeah, I think I can get my head around that code.”

Riker shouted ‘right’ and swung his left hand towards me. I easily blocked the punch, but he was practically aiming for my hand, so it was harder not to.

Even the impact of his gloves on mine hurt a little bit, but I did my best to hide the pain from my face. I’d need to stick my hands in an ice bucket as soon as I got home.

“Left,” he yelled, then swung with his right hand. His glove hit mine, but I wasn’t strong enough, and I ended up hitting myself in the face with my own hand.

“That’ll do,” Riker said, ripping off his gloves’ velcro with his teeth.

“No,” I demanded. “We keep going.”

“You’re exhausted.”

“So? Do you stop when you get tired? You haven’t even hit me yet.”

“Nora, I—”

“Hit me,” I yelled. “If you can.”

Riker went back to shouting directions and swinging punches. Each punch got harder to block. I could barely keep my hands in the air now, let alone resist the force of his punches. I had no doubt he was holding back, but I still struggled to keep up.

“Left.” Block. “Right.” Block. “Right.” Block. “Left.” I missed.

Riker’s hand went zooming past my glove and slammed into my face. Riker had once told me he didn’t feel the pain of a punch during a fight because of the adrenaline.  

Bullshit.  

Punches fucking hurt.

I screamed and then spat the gum shield out of my mouth so that I could scream some more.

“Shit,” Riker muttered, tearing off his gloves with his teeth, and rushing towards me. His hands took hold of my face as he tried to examine the damage.  

“Get off,” I yelled, and pushed his hands away from me.  

“I told you it was a bad idea.”  

“Just get off me.”

“Nora, what the hell—”

“Don’t. Just don’t.”

I tore my gloves off and threw the helmet to the floor before storming back upstairs.  

So much for keeping a cool head. I’d just had a hissy fit because a guy I’d slept with was seeing someone else. I wasn’t proud of that, and I certainly didn’t want Riker seeing me at my lowest point.

What the hell was happening to me? I wasn’t the type to storm off in a bad mood. That wasn’t me.  

Except apparently it was.

That’s what Riker had done to me.  

She was pissed.

I’d expected Nora to be a little off with me today, but I’d intended to explain everything after class. Now it looked like I wouldn’t get the chance.  

Nora fled upstairs without looking back. I contemplated chasing after her, but that didn’t seem like a great idea given the mood she was in. Besides, I’d just punched her in face. I didn’t feel great about that, even if it had been during an accident during training.

Why was she so mad anyway? I’d called off one lesson, but that was hardly justification for storming off and being in a mood with me the entire session.  

I headed back up to the gym to get some time on a bench, but the second I walked in, Duke yelled out my name in a way that made it pretty clear I needed to get to his office as soon as possible.