Break Me (Alpha MMA Fighter) (2 page)

 

He nodded his appreciation. “Mrs. Leonowens. Her grandson Steve trains with us; we call him Steelio for short. No killer instinct, but he can take hits all day long and keep on coming.”

 

“He’s ranked, isn’t he? The name’s familiar.”

 

“Just barely. You follow the rankings?”

 

“Kinda,” she replied. “I follow all things MMA. That’s why I’m right for this job; it’s where I belong.”

 

Luca offered her a seat then fetched the first aid kit from the shelf over his desk. He cleaned the cut on her head with antiseptic ointment and cotton wool, then applied a Band-Aid. “Have you had any physio training, Ross?”

 

“Self-taught. I can name all the different muscles and all the most common injuries. I’ve studied boxing technique, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu theory, and I know the rules of MMA inside out.”

 

Luca smiled. “Ever trained in any of those yourself?”

 

She pointed to her Band-Aid. “Do I look like I have?”

 

“Not exactly.”

 

“But I’ve always wanted to. Maybe after I’ve bulked up a bit, I’ll give it a try.”

 

“I reckon you will at that. The way you tackled that asshole purse-snatcher…”

 

“And got my ass handed to me,” Rose reminded him.

 

He seemed amused by the whole thing, but there was still a touch of admiration in the way he addressed her. “Where have you worked before?”

 

“Here and there. I’ve done front desk admin, back office phone work, face-to-face customer service. You name it, I’ve tried it. I don’t mind working long hours or weekends, whatever you need. I just like working with people who are passionate about what they do, and I can’t think of anywhere better than this. I mean even the smell is dedicated in here.”

 

“How do you mean?”

 

“It’s dedicated to making me nauseous.”

 

He laughed. “Now you know why we need the help.”

 

“What exactly would I be doing? I mean it’s all good, but just so I know what to expect.”

 

“Sure. Your main duties will be assisting me in this office: answering calls, taking messages, arranging meetings with fight promoters. My brother likes to say we share the workload, but the truth is the only paperwork he ever sees comes out of an ATM machine, and he has the negotiating skills of a sledge hammer to the kneecap. So he spends most of his time out there, working the guys through their programs. He’s the champ, and they all look up to him. They’d do anything for him. Me? I take up the slack in here—coordinating events, licenses, competition entry fees, fight purses, any personal issues our fighters have. I’m the go-to guy for everything
outside
the ring. Avery gets them ready; I make sure they get their shot. We have a lot of prospects training here. MMA is exploding right now. So if you do get the job, don’t be surprised if I ask you to do quite a bit of overtime.”

 

“No problem. So it’s mostly office work?”

 

“Yes and no. Like I said, I dot the i’s around here, so when I’m in, you might not have much to do in the office. If that’s the case, you’ll be helping out around the gym—putting the equipment away, cleaning and disinfecting the machines and the locker room, and calling technicians in to fix anything that gets broken, like the air conditioning, for instance.” He pinched his nose, which made Rose smile. “That’ll be your responsibility, plus a hundred other assorted things you’ll have to be ready for. Most of our members take care of themselves, but some can be high maintenance, always whining about something. You’ll have to be on hand to help them with anything they need—within reason, of course.”

 

“Of course. So when do I start?”

 

He jerked back, pretending to be startled. “You really don’t mess around, do you?”

 

“Sorry, I just really want this job, Mr. Wright. I just had to get here, even with a busted head. I turned down an ambulance to be here.”

 

“Well, that’s a first. I won’t deny it.”

 

“What if I work the first week for free, so I can prove to you how good I am.”

 

Luca sighed, laced his fingers on the back of his head. “Here’s the thing: we did want to hire someone young, but I’ll be honest—you’re not quite what we had in mind, Ross.”

 

Rose’s chest began to tighten, her throat constricted. Before panic set in, she punched out the question, “What did you have in mind?” She was fully ready to argue her case, but this wasn’t like going toe-to-toe with her stepdad, Mike; no, she had to keep her famous temper in check. Persuasion was the only word she could think of. Standing her ground but in a nice, non-hostile way. Her question was just this side of confrontational, but she pulled it off.

 

“Someone a little more—”

 

The door flew open and another guy stormed in—a serious hunk this time, wearing purple boxing shorts, a damp, loose-fitting tee, and a cyclonic scowl that said
I tear strips off small islands, so don’t get in my way
. He had to be a disgruntled member. Rose disliked him immediately. His contemptuous gaze barely skimmed her before it settled on Luca. “What’s this about Dillahunt?” he demanded. “Why’s he turned down his title shot? I thought you’d sealed the deal.”

 

“From my end it was all set. But there’s only so much of a fight I can lock without a
fucking fighter.
That’s your end. You’ve had his ear for months now, so you tell me why he’s backed out.”

 

Mr. Cyclone sucked in some of his own hot air and muttered to himself. “I’ll give his mom another call later.” He made that sound about as appealing as pulling teeth with a rusty fish-hook. “This our new interviewee?”

 

“Uh-huh. His name’s Ross. Ross, this is my brother, Avery, Light Heavyweight Champion and full heavyweight asshat.”

 

“Hey,” she said.

 

His superior sniff and barely-there nod ticked her off.
Can this guy be any more obnoxious?

 

“You do realize this is a fighting gym, right?” He sort of smiled at her, as though he thought he was being funny. “People get hurt here all the time. Just thought I’d mention it.”

 

“Oh, I know it’s a fighting gym alright. I smelled y’all from across the street.”

 

“Ever worked with fighters before?”

 

“No.”

 

“Ever done any fighting?”

 

“On my way here, actually.” She looked to Luca to elaborate. Tooting her own horn had never been one of her strong suits, and she didn’t want so say any more to this asshat than she absolutely had to.

 

“Old Mrs Leonowens got her purse snatched,” Luca explained. “Ross here tried to tackle the guy on his own—a guy twice his size. Not too shabby, eh?”

 

“What happened?”

 

“The guy got away. Me and a couple of guys from the store chased him, but the fucker was fast. Ross took a rough knock to the head, then picked himself up and made his way straight here.”

 

“Not bad, kid,” Avery admitted with almost zero conviction. “But not too smart either. You could have gotten killed.”

 

“Or I could have kicked Goliath in the gonads” she replied. “Think that would’ve worked?”

 

They both snickered, as though at some private joke she’d triggered. “Well, that’s not exactly what we teach here,” said Avery. He ran a hand through his damp, untidy brown hair that probably hadn’t seen a comb since prom night. He was about twenty-five, his brother a few years younger. They bore almost no resemblance physically, and personality-wise, from what she’d seen, they were from different planets. Avery was medium height and athletic, with big arms and shoulders. He had a paler complexion, and his skin was pink after what had to have been a heavy bout of exercise, maybe a long-distance run. His striking brown eyes were deep and interesting, but she saw cruelty in them as well, as though he was on intimate terms with his bad side, or was struggling to keep it at bay. Handsome, borderline scorching hot, but about as friendly as a charging rhino.

 

Luca, on the other hand, was someone she could have a drink with. Non-threatening, even likeable, he was clearly the stabilizing component of the Wright brothers’ flight to fame and fortune.

 

“You don’t look like brothers,” she said. “Are you both—”

 

“We’re from Detroit, Michigan,” said Luca. “Avery’s family took me in when I was a kid. He’s been trying to keep up with me ever since.”

 

Avery marched over and put his younger brother in a headlock. “They should have gotten a refund,
muchacho.
” Then, he glanced up at Rose. “Give the kid a week, see how he does.”

 

Luca wrestled his way out of the headlock and smacked his brother upside the head. “You got it.” He shook Rose’s hand across the desk. “Welcome aboard. Have you got your bank details handy?”

 

“Actually, I don’t have an account any more. I closed it when the scammers got in,” she lied. “Is it okay if I get paid cash-in-hand, just until I can set a new account up with another bank?”

 

Luca eyed her carefully for a few moments, then shrugged. “Don’t see why not. Do a good job and we’ll see you right.”

 

“And start eating, kid,” added Avery, “or you’ll be giving us a bad name.”

 

“A bad name to go with the bad smell,” she retorted.

 

“Argh! But them’s fight’n’ words,” he said in an unconvincing pirate voice, performing a weird jumpy-hobbling hunched walk on his way out. “Shiver me timbers.”

 

At least he’d lightened up.
Rose rolled her eyes. “Is there a name for what’s wrong with him?”

 

“You figure it out, you let me know,” replied Luca. “Are you free to start tomorrow?”

 

“Sure. What time?”

 

“We open early on weekends. Eight thirty.”

 

“Works for me. What time do you close?”

 

“Usually around ten every night. But you’ll be helping to clear everything away at the end of each shift. We have a designated cleaner come in to take care of the locker room, the showers, the toilets; but the gym itself will be your area. Give it a thorough mop twice a day. We have cleaning rosters for all the equipment, and the vending machine gets re-stocked at the end of each week. It’s mostly a well-oiled machine, except for the awkward parts. You’ve already met Avery. You’ll discover the others as you go. And your job will be to keep things running as smoothly as possible.” He counted the following with his fingers: “People, passion, paperwork. Or something like that. I’m just trying to sound all professional here. Truth is, I need you to fill in the gaps for me, take over where I leave off, and quarterback for me when I’m out of office. Be Johnny-On-The-Spot. Eventually, when you’ve learned the ropes, you’ll be able to run this place solo, and that’s when you can expect a pay jump. We’re a family here. We take care of our own. And I think you might be just what we need.”

 

“Me too.”

 

“Okay, I guess that’s it for now. Thanks for coming in, Ross.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“We’ll see you tomorrow at eight thirty.”

 

“Sure will.”

 

“Have a good one,” he said, starting to leaf through the pile of envelopes on his desk.

 

On her way out, Rose spied steam billowing from the locker room. A pair of muscly fighters strode out, dripping wet, naked from the waist up, with towels wrapped loosely around their modesty. They grabbed a couple of drinks from the bench, then made their way back inside. One of the men didn’t wait until he was in before he removed his towel and tossed it ahead of him. Rose gasped. His butt was the tightest, most well-formed she’d ever seen in her life.

 

She colored. And for the first time, what she was doing really did feel like a crime. She was about to violate the laws of this male sanctum, to see things no girl was meant to see. How could she possibly go through with this and keep coming back for more?

 

I don’t know,
she thought, grinning to herself,
but it would be a bigger crime not to.

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