Break Me (Alpha MMA Fighter) (12 page)

 

“That’s why he won’t fight me. Anyone who’d put a girl half his size in a sleeper hold wouldn’t have the balls to tangle with someone who measures up.”

 

“But what if he does flip out and attack you?”

 

Avery shrugged. “Then it’ll be the last thing he ever does.”

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

“Ideally you should fend off the rear mount, prevent your opponent from ever applying the sleeper,” said Avery. “The sleeper is one of the most powerful submission holds in MMA. But I’ll have to take you through that defense another time. For now, to escape a rear naked choke, you have to break your opponent’s grip, one hand at a time, like this…” He fed both his hands behind his head, feeling for Tony’s fingers. “Okay, this one wouldn’t work against an experienced fighter, but if you can pry a few fingers loose, do that. Lift his hand free like this, pull it down and jam it under your elbow. Or if you can’t get his fingers, use both your hands to pull his right hand free and, again, jam it under your elbow. Take it out of the equation. He can’t work the rear naked choke with only one arm. Then, you position yourself to pop his other arm over your head, like this, ready to slide out or go for a takedown or however you want to counter.”

 

His demonstration over, Avery had the three pairs of fighters he’d been training earlier practice it for Rose. She seemed satisfied, but if it weren’t for her sore neck, he’d have asked her to try it out herself. He’d always believed in throwing his students in at the deep end. Not that Rose had been
out
of the deep end in the week or so he’d known her. Christ, she attracted trouble like a magnet. Two fights, an abusive stepdad, a gym full of fighters who’d wanted to kick her out a few days ago, and now she’d been evicted from her flat as well: Rose Jacqueline was fending off attacks from all sides.

 

In short, she needed an ally.

 

“Okay guys, that’s enough for now. See you after lunch.” And to Rose: “What do you fancy? Sub? Carvery? Or a brunch—I know a decent bar grill over on Belmont.”

 

“Brunch sounds good. Scrambled egg, plenty of crispy bacon. Are you buying?”

 

“If you insist.”

 

“Then I’m having pancakes as well. I feel like pigging out.”

 

“That’s what I’ve been telling you,” he said, pinching her arm. “Pig out now and then. Put on a bit of weight. We’ll soon muscle it up. Just, um, don’t overdo the pancakes. Sumo isn’t my thing.”

 

“So you need me to stay as Becky Hot-Buns, is that right?”

 

“Something like that.”

 

“And at what weight would my buns stop being hot?”

 

He stopped in the middle of the street to ogle her ass, which was tight and altogether phenomenal. “Sorry. What was the question?” He grinned. Rose blushed.

 

“Okay, perv, you win,” she said. “But if I told you my secret, you might not be so cocky.”

 

“Secret?” He unlocked his Camaro. “I reckon it won’t be a secret by the time we’ve finished lunch.”

 

“That’s what you think.” She tauntingly flicked her eyebrows up at him.

 

He smiled. “You wouldn’t have mentioned it if you weren’t ready to tell me. I know a thing or two about girls and their secrets.”

 

“But you don’t know
this.

 

“All right. How about a wager,” he said. “By the time I’ve paid the check, you’ll have told me your secret.”

 


No way
!
What do I get if I don’t spill?”

 

“You get to ask me for one favor, and only one.”

 

She rubbed her hands together. “Sweet!”

 

“And if you do spill, I get to ask you for one favor, and only one.”

 

“No problemo. Get ready to add some flavor to the favor, bro. It’s gonna be all mine.”

 

“Uh-huh.” He started the engine, peeled out, and floored it down Van Buren. “We’ll see.”

 

***

 

The Danish House Bar & Grill served excellent continental breakfasts and even better full English brunches: hash browns, bacon, sausages, French toast, mushrooms, tomato, baked beans, and a poached egg. (Rose preferred hers scrambled). Avery was surprised how greedily she ate, as if she hadn’t eaten a bite in days. He started to wonder just what financial trouble she was really in, how often she could even afford to eat, and whether that, more so than her running, had left her looking so skinny. He wondered about a lot of things. Like why she persisted in finding the hardest solutions to her problems. An abusive stepdad, a dangerous landlord…those were both police matters. However, instead of handing them over to the law, she’d taken it upon herself to learn fighting techniques that would allow her to face those problems alone.

 

He couldn’t decide if that was admirable or just foolish. Sure, everyone ought to know how to defend herself, but a girl taking on grown men, dangerously violent men, probably wasn’t something he should encourage.

 

“Did you hear back from your sister?” he asked. “Cate, right?”

 

She held her fork loaded with scrambled egg a couple of inches from her mouth. Steady hand. Not even a tremble. “What made you ask that?” she said.

 

“You had a close call at her house. I was just wondering if there’d been any repercussions, for Cate.”

 

“Not right away.” She filled her mouth with scrambled egg, but it didn’t stop her from talking. “I thought it had blown over, but yesterday she sent me this weird text out of the blue. I can’t figure it out. Here, take a look.” She found the message and slid her phone across the table.

 

He didn’t know what to make of the message either. He’d never met Cate, so he couldn’t tell if it was out of character or not. “Sounds pretty dramatic. Is it unusual for her?”

 

“Very. She’s always been the sweet one. It’s…bizarre.”

 

“How did it make you feel when you first read it?”

 

“Angry at first, and, ah, scared, I guess.”

 

“Scared in what way?”

 

Rose swigged a few gulps of Pepsi before she answered, “Scared that I totally screwed everything up between us when I went to see her. She was glad to see me, but she warned me it wasn’t a good idea. Mike fucking
hates
me. I think if he ever got his hands on me, I’d have to kill him before he killed me.”

 

“Why does he hate you so much?”

 

She shrugged. “Because I was always in the way, I guess. I was only little when Mom got cancer. As well as having to look after her, he had to raise two girls on his own, one of which wasn’t even his. I think he hated that he couldn’t move on, even after she died, because I was always there to remind him of her. It changed me when Mom died, made me want to protect Cate more than anything; she was all I had left. But I think it changed Mike more. It frustrated him, like, deep down where the bad stuff takes root. He got angry all the time. Cried a lot, too, at least for a while. But when he stopped crying, that was when he’d start to take it out on us. Cate and me. That was when he became my enemy and I became his, because he wanted Cate to share his hurt, and I was in the way. I was protecting her in a way that no one had protected him from his loss, and it made him furious.”

 

“You were just kids. It was his
job to help
you
cope with the loss.”

 

“Don’t tell it to me. Tell it to that abusive shit.” She pushed her plate away in frustration. “Looking back, I can see how hard it must have been for the guy. I know adults are supposed to be the ones who figure these things out, like how to deal with the grief, how to bear the burden for their kids and all that. I get it. You’re right. But everyone’s different. Some kids are more mature than adults when it comes to stuff like that. And through no fault of their own, some adults never
develop those coping mechanisms. Maybe they’re just emotionally frail, like it’s in their DNA.”

 

“That doesn’t excuse what he did to you and Cate.”

 

“I know
that.
He could have stopped himself at any point. And I’m not defending him in any way. I’ve just tried to look at it from every possible angle, to see it as objectively as I can, so I don’t have to relive it all the time. And do you know what? Every way I look at it, I come to the same conclusion. He’s a cruel son-of-a-bitch, and he needs to pay for what he’s done.”

 

“No arguments here.”

 

“Good. That’s good that you see it that way. So you know why I have to be the one to make him pay.”

 

Avery wiped the corners of his mouth with his napkin. “I’d want to make him pay if I were you.”

 

“So you think I should make sure she’s okay?”

 

“Wow.” He flapped his hand at her. “Let’s not jump into anything. That’s not what I said. Listen, I think you’re a helluva girl. Anyone who goes to the lengths you’ve gone to look out for a sister or a brother…” He thought of himself and Luca, how they’d always had each other’s backs, even in the direst moments on the streets of Detroit. “That kind of loyalty is impressive. It’s made you who you are. But I think you’re trying to take on the whole world yourself.”

 

“Not the whole world. Just the assholes that do me harm.”

 

“Well, I know you don’t want to hear this, Rose, but my advice is to call the cops. If there is more to Cate’s message than her blaming you for the other day, then it could be really serious. If he’s threatened her, maybe gotten violent, do you really want to take the chance of him going further? You want to be the one to make him pay, and you’re learning MMA for that; but the fact is, it takes years to master what I’m teaching. From now to the point at which you’ll be strong enough and skilled enough to take on a violent man like Mike, it’s going to be a long, hard road.”

 

“So what?”

 

“My point is, Cate will be in danger all that time. You want to face him yourself, to protect Cate, but what if she doesn’t have that long?”

 

“Then we’ll have to cram in extra training, make it go quicker. Whatever it takes.”

 

“Rose, you’re not listening. Combat isn’t just about being tough; it’s about being smart. And I’m telling you, the smart move here is to either go to the cops or leave the situation alone. You confronting Mike now, or any time before you’re ready, will make things worse for you and Cate. Trust me. Don’t go to that house on your own.”

 

She opened her mouth to speak, but checked herself. She flushed. And Avery reckoned he knew what she’d been about to ask him: would
he
go with her to confront Mike?

 

Not unless there’s no other way,
he decided.

 

He liked that she hadn’t asked. It was a huge point in her favor. Having to refuse her would put him in a tricky spot, especially as her mentor. And as a fighter. And as a man. The idea of leaving a young girl at the mercy of a potentially psychotic lowlife wasn’t something he
wanted
to swallow. However, if Rose refused to go to the authorities, what could he do? Burst in and threaten a guy who had connections to organized crime? This wasn’t a Steven Seagal movie.

 

“Promise me you won’t go to that house,” he said.

 

She pouted, then sulkily agreed. “I’ll find some other way to reach her.”

 

“She goes to school, right?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Does she make her own way home?”

 

“No. Mike picks her up. He insists.”

 

“Ah, okay. There goes my plan, then. Best just stay away for now, if you won’t go to the cops.”

 

Her eyes darted from side to side, as she gazed off into the distance, as if she was weighing up an idea. Avery asked the waitress for the check.

 

“I’ve been thinking,” he said. “Since the secret’s out that I’m training you—hell, we even roped the guys into demonstrating for you—why don’t we schedule a few sessions for during normal gym hours, in your free time? Still keep our early one-on-one sessions,” he emphasized, “but cut out the late night training. I don’t think that’s good for anyone. And there’s no point trying to hide that you’re using the gym anyway. On the contrary, I think it’d be a better idea for you to mix it up with the others. Not sparring, obviously, but you can learn a lot more about yourself from interacting with other trainees than you can from just being taught by me.”

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