Break Me (Alpha MMA Fighter) (23 page)

***

 

A little over a week into the strictest training regime of his life, a regime masterminded by Luca, Avery was ready to soak in the hot tub after a particularly long, strenuous session when the doorbell rang. A suited man carrying a briefcase introduced himself as “Agent Nix, FBI,” and flashed his badge. “Do you mind if I come in?”

 

“What’s this about?”

 

“It concerns the fight-fixing epidemic in Nevada, California, and Arizona. I understand you’ve had indirect contact with the organization responsible. One of your colleagues, Miss Rose Jacqueline, was attacked in The Dolphin Hotel & Casino in Reno, and you came to her aid, along with another of you colleagues…” He flicked open his folder and read, “Marlon Washington, and two women, Ashley and Lena Culver. They’re all fighters, I presume?”

 

“Damn good ones.”

 

“I see.”

 

Nix was very tall, around six-four, bookish but not weak-looking, not at all. He wore glasses and had a dorky comb-over, but there was a steely, confident air about him, as though he’d thrived among competitive types all his life. He was in his early forties and wore a wedding ring. Avery reckoned he was probably a good man to have on his side.

 

“Come in.”

 

“Thanks. Is Miss Jacqueline at home as well, if you don’t mind me asking?”

 

“She’s at work.”

 

“What time do you expect her back?”

 

Avery tried to remember which shift she was on. “Late night, I think. My brother brings her home. Why? Is it important?”

 

Nix motioned to the sofa. Avery invited him to sit. “It could be important,” the FBI man said. “Your brother contacted us a few days ago, together with another fight manager, a Mr. Pete Malcolm from Phoenix. I’m sure he’s mentioned this to you.”

 

“Actually, no.” And it was a little disappointing. Avery knew
why
his little brother hadn’t said anything—he didn’t want anything to distract him from his training—but something this big concerned all of them. “I’ve got a big fight coming up. He’s trying to keep me focused on that.”

 

Nix nodded. “I know about that. In fact, it’s one of the reasons I’m here. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You wanted to know about Miss Jacqueline, why she might be important.” He spread open his folder on the coffee table. “That night in Reno, the attempted abduction, do you know why that happened? Why they went to such lengths to pull that off?”

 

“Rose said it was because someone had overheard her talking about a man called Delgado. Apparently, he’s connected with Shane Hoskins, the hotelier. That’s why the casino security never showed up to help us. Hoskins owned that casino. He had them all called to an emergency staff meeting at that exact time. Some coincidence, huh?”

 

Nix looked hard at him. “Sounds like you have some idea of what you’re up against.”

 

“I’m trying not to think about it.”

 

“And Rose? Is she still worried at all?”

 

Hmm. Avery sensed where this was going, but he didn’t want to betray Rose’s trust by telling the FBI about Mike’s threats. He
should
tell, but she was very sensitive about her stepsister’s plight. Rose wanted to handle the situation herself when the time was right. And Avery didn’t want to lose her over it. If she found out he’d blabbed, she might never forgive him.

 

“Rose has her own problems. I don’t think she’s overly concerned about Reno.”

 

“Well, it might have happened in Reno, but Delgado’s reach stretches a lot further than that,” said Nix. “Thanks to Pete Malcolm, and one of his ex-fighters, who’s still suspended on a charge of fight-fixing, we’ve identified two of Delgado’s strong-arm guys. He never initiates the blackmail himself; his kind never does. But we’ve been keeping tabs on his guys, and we’ve heard Mitre mentioned several times.”

 

“What about Mitre?” Avery suddenly wanted to drive over to the gym and fetch Rose home right away.

 

“Two things,” said Nix. “One, Delgado knows about the connection between Rose and one of his associates, Mike Hague.”

 

“Rose’s stepdad.”

 

“We think Delgado made that connection straightaway, in Reno, as soon as he discovered who she was and the questions she was asking. That’s why he tried to abduct her. He had to know what she knew and
how
she knew it. Whether Hague had let something slip, or if she’d found out some incriminating evidence, an organization like that only survives if it’s watertight. Delgado considered Hague a liability after that, and Rose a potential leak. We think the only reason he hasn’t come after her here in Mitre is because of Hague.”

 

“What? You mean Hague’s protecting Rose?”

 

“Probably. Either that or he’s protecting his turf. Maybe, to keep his position in the organization, he’s made assurances to Delgado that there’ll be no more leaks from Mitre in future.”

 

Avery stayed silent. Here was the perfect opportunity to come clean about Mike’s threat against Rose and Cate, but first he would have to talk it over with Rose. It was a delicate topic.

 

“If so, he’s gambling his position, maybe his life, on Rose keeping quiet.” The way Nix slanted Avery a glance suggested he
suspected
some kind of threat had been made, but he didn’t say it out loud.

 

Again, Avery kept quiet, at least on that subject. “And the second thing?” he asked. “About Mitre?”

 

Nix leafed through the sheets in his folder. “Yes, here we go. You’re scheduled to fight Seth Grillo in…just under four months’ time.” He looked up. “In Las Vegas. Right in Delgado’s backyard.”

 

Avery shrugged. “I’ve fought there plenty of times. Never had any trouble.”

 

“No one’s ever approached you…?”

 

“Never! And I’d break anyone’s neck who tried it.”

 

Nix raised an eyebrow, as if to say,
I don’t doubt it.

 

“Where’s this going?” asked Avery.

 

“Okay, we have strong reason to suspect Delgado
is
going to approach you this time. And that he’s going to use your relationship with Rose to apply the necessary pressure to make you throw the fight.”

 

Avery leapt up from his seat and started pacing about the room. At first he couldn’t decide if he was angrier about his integrity being questioned—how could anyone
think
he’d ever throw a fight?—or that, when it came down to it, he might very well have no choice. Now that he thought about it, Rose
was
his one vulnerable spot, his Achilles’ heel. If he had to choose between her life and his own career, he would absolutely throw away everything he’d achieved in MMA. That terrified him, and it made him furious
because
he was afraid of it. He could beat any opponent in the ring, he figured, but he was powerless against the idea of losing Rose.

 

“How certain are you?” he asked.

 

“Almost certain,” said Nix. “From what we’ve overheard, it’s going to happen a few weeks before the fight. You’ll be in Vegas for some sort of press event to hype up the fight. And that’s when it will happen. You’ll be approached sometime before you leave, and they’ll drop the bombshell.”

 

Avery gripped the back of his armchair and almost snapped the wooden frame through the generous cushion. “Those sons of bitches.”

 

“Of course, there’s a lot we can do in that time,” said Nix. “We have three months to investigate Delgado’s organization. Pete Malcolm and his man are the first to come forward from what we hope will be a house of cards. With any luck, it’ll all be over well before you fly to Vegas. You won’t need to wear a wire or play any kind of role in this thing. But in the meantime, we’ll need all the intel we can get, all the testimonies. Your brother has already given me the names of his fighters he suspects were blackmailed by Delgado, so we’re pursuing those leads. But I was hoping Rose could tell us something—something concrete—about her stepdad. After all, Malcolm says she
was
interested in Delgado that night in Reno. She listened to his conversation at the bar, but then she got involved, as if she was fishing for information. What I want to know is why was she so interested, and how did she know about Delgado?”

 

“You should ask her.”

 

“She didn’t say anything to you?”

 

“Maybe. But until you speak to her about it, I can’t say any more.”

 

Nix stared at him for a few moments, then adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Fair enough, Mr. Wright. I think that’s our wisest course. I’ll have a word with Rose.” He retrieved his card from his breast pocket. “Here’s my cell number. Call me if you have any questions. And I’ll be in touch when we have any more pertinent information.”

 

“Thanks. And good luck with the investigation. You want me to call Rose for you, let her know you’re coming?”

 

“That’s okay, Mr. Wright. Your brother gave us her number.” He closed his folder and left. “Have a good day now.”

 

“You, too.”

 

As soon as he’d closed the door, Avery snatched his cell and called Rose. He had a lot to tell her, and to warn her about, before Nix got there.

 

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

“So you’ll let me have copies of those pages you printed out?” Nix asked Rose at the end of their brief but reassuring meeting in his sedan, which was parked in a side alley well away from the thoroughfare. The less people who knew about this, the better. Mitre wasn’t the smallest town in California, but it was densely settled; rumors travelled fast. Anyway, the FBI man seemed to be on top of the situation, and she’d realized it was stupid to try to keep anything from him. Any chance of busting Delgado’s blackmailing ring had to be taken. The names and contact details from Mike’s black book would help him achieve that.

 

“Nah, you can have the original printouts,” she said. “I’ll be glad to get rid of them. And you can do a lot more with them than I can.”

 

But even so, she did keep a few things to herself, like Mike’s threatening note and Cate’s temporary disappearance. They were both back home now—she’d spied him driving her to school a few mornings back, and she’d seemed fine—so the status quo was more or less back to normal. More or less…

 

“Make sure you keep it to yourself, though,” she added. “Mike knows
I’ve
seen the book, but if he found out I’ve shared it with the FBI, I’m pretty sure he’d kill me.”

 

“You have my word,” said Nix. “The only people who know we’ve talked here today are people you can trust: your boyfriend Avery, his brother Luca, and my boss, Special Agent Helmsley.”

 

That did reassure her.

 

“Do you think you’ll be able to bring the bastards down?” she asked.

 

He took a last sip from his coffee; it wasn’t steaming anymore. “I’d like to say yes to that, Miss Jacqueline, but criminal organizations like this are tough nuts to crack. You might nail one or two low-level operatives, but the hard part is tying them back to the people pulling the strings. Those strings get severed at the first hint that one of them has been compromised.” He paused. “But we’ll do everything we can.”

 

“Have the Reno police found out who those kidnappers were?” she asked. “They never got back to us.”

 

Nix pressed his lips together into a small, grave line. “We know exactly who they are. We’ve taken over that investigation. You won’t be hearing from Reno P.D.”

 

Rose sensed he was holding a lot back. Her mind flooded with conspiracy theories, the ones she and Avery and Marlon had gone through over and over together ever since that night. “So they are corrupt,” she said. “I knew it.”

 

“I can’t discuss that side of the investigation,” Nix replied. “But I will say it’s not a good idea for you to contact anyone in Reno about what happened that night, especially that officer who took your statements.”

 

“Bowman?”

 

“Right. From now on, I’ll be your first and only point of contact. You have my card. Keep it someplace safe. You shouldn’t need to use it—like I said, your stepdad won’t want to draw attention to himself—but if anything happens, anything at all, call me. I’ll be in touch if and when we have anything concrete. Until then, it’s probably best you don’t go on any more field trips, even with your team of Expendables.”

 

Rose grinned. “I was kinda hoping for the sequel.”

 

“Well, I could always film it on my smartphone, put it up on YouTube,” he said. “Think it would go viral?”

 

“I think it would break the internet.” She opened her passenger door and beamed him a grateful smile. “Take it easy, Agent Nix.”

 

“You too, Miss Jacqueline. Thanks for all your help.”

 

“Back-at-cha. Oh yeah, when are you calling round for those printouts?”

 

“Tonight. I’ll text first to make sure you’re home.”

 

“Cool. See ya.”

 

She couldn’t decide whether to walk or run back to the gym. Soon, her excitement got the best of her and she was in a flat-out sprint along the Van Buren sidewalk. Nix’s sedan sped past before she got to Wright Hook’s. In her exuberance she almost waved, but checked herself just in time. It wasn’t every day you got to help out the FBI, but if she wasn’t careful, this day might be her last.

 

***

 

Manny Etcheverria and the two fill-in coaches, Saul and Benny, took over the private and group training sessions now that Avery wasn’t available. That hurt attendance a little. As good as they were, they were no substitute for a world champion. But overall, business soared. Word had gotten out about Avery’s upcoming exhibition match, and men of all ages, many of whom would otherwise never have gone near a gym, started showing up, either paying for a one-off session or just coming to watch—secretly hoping the great Avery Wright would show up and treat them to a display of his prowess in the ring.

 

Now and then he did show, and energy levels around the gym spiked. Paces quickened on the treadmills. Punches grew fiercer. Those practicing takedown maneuvers added individual flourishes to their techniques. They were all hoping to catch his eye, and, if they were really lucky, his approval. Surprisingly, few people asked for his autograph. Those who did tended to be boys, and he never turned them down so long as they were polite. If they weren’t, he’d treat them like he would an obnoxious paparazzo—with complete disdain.

 

The weeks went by, and Rose saw less and less of him throughout the day. He got up ridiculously early for his morning run, used the weights, fitness machines, and punching bags at Luca’s home gym and sparred with Luca and an assortment of MMA fighter friends and colleagues at various venues. Sometimes, he practiced in the ring at Wright Hook’s, but Rose could tell he didn’t like the distractions. The constantly opening door. This upcoming fight was a momentous thing for him, and she’d never seen anyone so focused on anything before.

 

It was impressive to witness. It was also hard—very hard—to live with.

 

***

 

Rose had been wanting to take the Culver twins (formerly the Twitches) out for drinks ever since Reno, but her busy work schedule and their hectic social life had made it tricky to find enough overlapping free time for all three of them to commit. There was also the small matter of them being, at least up until the Dolphin, bitter enemies; this wouldn’t be so much a reunion as they would be starting over from scratch.

 

They finally met up at Largo’s, a popular cocktail bar not too far from their dad’s gym, Springbok’s. It was a quiet Friday afternoon. Rose dressed casually, while Ashley and Lena’s idea of casual meant figure-hugging, designer labels from head to toe. They couldn’t help it; like Avery had said, they just had to stand out wherever they went.

 

However, the meeting started out surprisingly well. They reminisced about that night, and all the crazy attention they’d received since their return: the reporters, the men, the increase in business, the new fans, and the new enemies—especially girlfriends and spouses of said men. Being a local celebrity, in Lena’s words, was a lot like taking a ride on a rollercoaster. If it got too intense, all you could do was either scream or barf; you couldn’t get off until the car had completed its circuit.

 

“Speaking of rollercoasters, how’s it going with you and Avery?” asked Ashley, genuinely interested. She didn’t sound bitter or jealous at all. “I hear you two are getting serious.”

 

Rose wasn’t sure how much to say. These weren’t exactly her besties. “We’re doing okay. We’re kind of in a holding pattern right now—understandable, right, what with the big fight and all? His mind’s on that. It should be. It needs to be.” Hmm, and that was more honest than she’d wanted to be with these two.

 

“Absolutely,” said Lena, who waved to a guy at the far end of the bar, then shook her head when he gestured to come over. She turned back to Rose. “I always have to block everything out before a fight. Especially guys.”

 

“Up to a point,” said Ashley. “The thing about a guy like Avery is he’s all or nothing. When his attention’s on you, it’s all on you; there’s nothing else and no one else in the whole world, and it feels amazing. But then he schedules a fight, and suddenly you don’t exist. It happens overnight, and it’s the damnedest thing. It drove me nuts. I totally got why he did it—as I’m sure you do, Rose—but it was way too hot and cold for me.”

 

“Really?”

 

Ashley necked her glass of appletini. “But that’s just me. I know there were things he couldn’t stand about me as well. Maybe you two are more…what’s the word…computable?”

 

“Compatible?” suggested Lena.

 

Ashley smothered a belch. “Go you! And hey, he never asked me to move in with him, so there’s that.”

 

As much as Rose wanted to dismiss this whole line of questioning, she had to admit there was truth to it. Suddenly being a secondary aspect in his life
was
cold and lonely, and irritating. Yes, she knew why he was so obsessed with the training, but did the hot and the cold have to be
this
extreme? He was so tired at the end of most days he barely had the strength to kiss her good night, never mind sleep with her. And those isolated times they did have sex were so amazing it only highlighted what she was missing the rest of the time, how good he could, and probably should, make her feel more often throughout the day. Love-wise, she felt, for want of a better description, under-nourished.

 

“I guess it depends how often he goes through this,” said Rose. “I mean this
is
the biggest fight of his life.”

 

“They all are, honey,” answered Ashley. “A guy like Avery has one level of intensity the whole time he’s training. It’s life or death, and anything in between isn’t even worth his time. Until he’s fought. Then he’s Mr. Dreamboat again, and you feel like it was all worth it. Then he schedules another fight, and you’re out in the cold again.”

 

“Sheesh. You guys are gonna make it snow if you’re not careful.” Lena adjusted her wrap over her shoulders. “I mean he can’t be that bad. He sees you during the day, right, and at night?”

 

Rose and Ashley shared a knowing glance that left Rose feeling utterly miserable. So this obsessiveness
wasn’t
just because he was set for the biggest fight of his life. It was his thing. His routine. And whoever he was with had to just put up with it and wait for the sun to shine again in between cloudy skies.

 

“Is he as bad as she says?” Lena asked Rose. “Sis can be a drama queen sometimes, especially when it comes to men who don’t treat her like Cleopatra the whole time.”

 

“Hey, what the fuck—?” A tipsy, bemused Ashley Culver stink-eye left her sister in stitches. They exchanged punches to the arm. “So how about it, Rose?
Is
he like I described him, or isn’t he?” asked Ashley.

 

“Kind of. But I don’t think he means to be so hot and cold. He just gets tunnel vision, that’s all. Takes it for granted that everyone sees how important it is for him. Can’t blame him for that, I guess.”

 

Ashley looked down into her glass and stabbed the olive repeatedly with her cocktail stick. “I guess not. All fighters are selfish assholes to some extent. Right, sis?”

 

“Speak for yourself.”

 

Rose took a swig of her Bacardi and Coke. “But it’s not something you can really bring up without sounding like
you’re
the selfish asshole,” she said. “That’s the part I hate. It’s like the subject’s off-limits. Non-negotiable. I mean I
want
him to be the best he can be, which means he has to train his ass off, but I’m not even sure he knows I’m there half the time.”

 

“He knows,” said Lena. “And whatever you two might think, you’re on the inside, so all you feel is the weather. The hot and cold. From the outside, it’s clear as day to me: Avery Wright is a warrior. Like something from the old days. He fights fierce, he loves fierce, and he’ll do anything to protect what’s his. You’ve seen how he is with Luca, how loyal he is. That’s old school. That’s fucking Viking. The guy’s a fucking Viking, and you girls can’t see it. You’re thinking twenty-first century. He’s from another age. Think about it.”

 

“Then why haven’t you tried for him?” said Ashley. “If he’s all that?”

 

“Because I don’t date fighters. Too volatile.” Lena gave Rose a wink. “All I’m saying is: you might think he’s blanking you out, but I’m betting you’re in his head the whole time. No one focuses on nothing. They use what drives them, what keeps them going. If he loves you, he’s thinking about you all day long. And if he can keep his focus while he’s in love, then it makes sense to me that love
is
his focus. That he’s training this hard and fighting above his weight for more than you think. I might be wrong, of course, but what I’m saying is think about it. Better yet, ask Luca about it. He’s known Avery the longest. He knows what makes him tick.”

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