Surge: (#7 The Beat and The Pulse) (16 page)

24
Dean


W
hat’s taking
that cocksucker so long?”

I was pacing back and forth so much I was probably wearing a groove into the floor of the gym.

“Don’t worry,” Lincoln said, watching the computer. “He’ll accept. Just have a little patience.”

We’d issued O’Connell the challenge for the middleweight belt last night after we found out Josie had taken a position working PR with him. I’d thought the little wanker would’ve been keen to accept straight away considering everything that’d gone down between us since our previous fight, but he was making me wait. Probably on purpose.

“There,” Coach said, pointing at the screen as a notification popped up.

Ceasing my restless pacing, I glanced over their shoulders at the laptop and clapped my hands together as I saw it was a message from O’Connell.

“About time,” I declared. “What does it say?”

Linc clicked on the message and said, “Challenge accepted.”

“Yes,” I chortled. “Make that shit official.” I hesitated and glanced around the gym, my gaze resting on the closed door to Josie’s office. Realizing we had no PR guru to turn to for these kinds of things, I scratched my head. “Shit, how do we make it official?”

“Leave it to me,” Coach said with a chuckle. “You boys get to training while I organize the details.”

“He accepted for next fight night, right?” I asked, shifting my weight from foot to foot. My palms began to itch, and I decided it was a good omen.

“Six days from now,” Coach confirmed. “Pending AUFC approval.”

“They’ll approve it,” Linc said, giving me a wink. “It’ll be the fight of the year. They wouldn’t want to miss out on the ticket sales.”

Shit, O’Connell had accepted, and now I had to think of a way to follow through with Josie. Weigh-in was five days away, the fight six. I had five days to train and five days to plan the greatest gesture of love I’d ever declare in my entire life. How the fuck was I meant to do that?

“C’mon,” Lincoln said, pushing me toward the weights. “Let’s get stuck into it before you shit your pants trying to overthink.”

Hell, I had to fight for the middleweight title, and it hadn’t crossed my mind as much as Jo had. This fight could make or break my career. If I lost again, I’d have a hard time coming back from it…if I came back at all.

I was putting everything I had on the line for her.
Everything
. The stakes had never been higher.

Lincoln punched me in the arm, breaking me out of my spiraling reverie.

“Ow, what was that for?” I exclaimed, rubbing my bicep.

“Your phone’s ringing,” he replied, nodding toward the sound.

I’d left my phone on the bench earlier where I could see it if it rang, so I picked it up, hoping for a miracle. Jo would know I’d challenged O’Connell, and a part of me was wishing she’d call to yell my ear off. Anything to hear her voice, to have time to try to get through to her…but it wasn’t her. Of course, it wasn’t.

When I flipped over the phone and saw the name on the screen, my lip curled, and I knew I was about to cop a serve.

“Ren Miller,” I said as I answered the call.

“The gig’s up, Hayes,” she declared, getting right down to business. “I’ve been talking with Josie.”

“No doubt,” I retorted, my entire body beginning to zing at the sound of Jo’s name.

“I know everything,” she said, getting right to the point. “Probably a little more than I’d like to know, actually.”

“Leave my cock out of it, Ren,” I drawled.

“That’s what I said,” she said with a soft laugh. “What happened, Dean? What happened with Monica?”

“Shit,” I cursed, running my hand over my face. “You know she…”

“Showed up at my wedding,” she finished for me. “Thank you for that, by the way.”

“It wasn’t me,” I muttered. “It was all Josie.”

That was the Josie I’d fallen for, the version of her that was wild and protective, passionate and loving. The Josie who’d left was nothing like her. That Josie was letting her insecurities rule her life like it was gospel. Even the smartest people were capable of knee-jerk reactions when heartache was laid out on the table. Like that was any consolation.

Fuck, I missed her.

“Thanks for making me feel bad,” Ren replied, sounding exasperated. “I yelled at her for the whole Hamish thing. She never told me about Monica, not until today.”

“That’s Jo,” I said. “That’s one of the many reasons… Yeah, that’s Jo.”

“So?” she prodded, obviously wanting to hear my side of the story.

“When I went to see Monica the day after your wedding…it was closure, Ren. I didn’t realize Josie wanted more, not until later…and it took me a while to get onto the same page. I had to work through the things I was holding onto out of habit, or it would’ve torn us apart eventually.”

“But it did anyway.”

“I never meant for it to spiral the way it did,” I said. “I never expected Monica to turn up here and try to start something. I told her to go home and never come back.”

“Because you’re falling for Josie?”

“Yeah,” I replied without the slightest hint of hesitation. “The door to my past was shut. I’d thrown away the key, but Jo…she… She doesn’t believe me, Ren. No matter what I said or did, she just didn’t want to hear it.”

“I believe you.” She sighed like she’d had a hell of a time talking with Jo. “Shit, I thought I knew the limit of absolute stubbornness when I get it from Ash, but Josie…
shit
.”

“I know,” I said. “Fuck, do I know.”

“She made a mistake,” she said after a moment. “I pleaded for her to go back to you, but she shot me down. It’s her pride and fear talking. The Josie I know wants a guy like you, Dean. She wants to love you.”

“I need a fucking miracle,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes.

“She’s about grand declarations,” Ren said after a moment. “You’ll need to get in her face and piss her off.”

“I know. I already tried that once.” At the Gala where I dropped the ball, pushing her too hard and punching my AUFC rival in the face.

“So do it again.”

I glanced at Lincoln who was listening in while doing another set of chin-ups.

“I challenged O’Connell for the title,” I said to Ren. “All in. It’s not official yet, but it will be by the end of the day. Is that grand enough for you?”

“A fight, Dean?” Ren asked, not sounding impressed. “Typical male logic.”

“She won’t see me, so this way she’ll have to be in the same room as I am. When she sees me win…”

“Winning a fight won’t win her over,” she argued.

Grunting, I said, “No, but how I do it will.”

“Go on…”

“Jo’s a stickler for professionalism,” I explained. “She’s uptight about it. She was always giving me shit about my lack of the stuff, so I don’t see her getting along with O’Connell. He fights dirty, and it pisses her off. It’s only a matter of time before the cracks start showing. If I can get under her skin and show her she made a mistake…”

“It’s harebrained,” came Ren’s reply. “It makes no sense, but if you think…”

“I have to believe,” I said firmly. “If I don’t, then this was all for nothing. I don’t know what else to do to make her see she’s the only one for me.”

Ren whistled, the sound echoing down the phone. “Dean Hayes, the sensitive new age fighter. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“The boy has finally grown up,” I muttered, much to Linc’s amusement.

“When’s the fight?” Ren asked. “If you want, I can get Ash and we can fly up for it.”

“We’re looking at this Friday,” I replied. “You guys don’t have to do that, you know.”

She laughed, and I could picture her shaking her head at me like I was a silly meathead fighter. “I know, but that’s what mates are for.”

“You’re welcome to come, but I’ll have my hands full,” I said after giving it some thought.

“I’ve been through my fair share of heartache, Dean,” she replied. “I understand more than you’ll ever know.”

“Oh, I think I’m beginning to understand, Ren.”

“Then you better win, Hayes.”

“I plan on it.”

Hanging up the call, I tossed my phone onto the bench and moved to join my twin brother, who was getting ready for some good old-fashioned sparring.

“Okay?” he asked, tossing me a pair of gloves.

“It will be,” I replied, pulling them on and flexing my fingers.

“How do you want to do this?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Squaring my shoulders, I leveled my gaze with his and assumed the position. “Hit me, bro. Bend the rules and fight dirty for once in your life. If I’m going to beat O’Connell, I’m going to have to know all the dirty tricks in the book back to front.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Fire with fire? That’s how you’re going to play this?”

“Nope. I’m going to be the fucking fire hose that puts that asshole out.”

25
Josie

I
knew it was coming
.

One of the Twins was challenging Gabe for the middleweight title, but I was betting on Lincoln, not Dean.

Staring at the message I’d just sent accepting the terms of the fight, my stomach began to roll. I’d have to face him and Monica. I’d have to look him in the eye and pretend I wasn’t dying inside.

Gabe leaned over my shoulder and smiled. “Nice work, Cunningham. Make sure it’s official.”

My body began to recoil as I realized how close he’d moved while I was stewing in the juices of my own stupid mistakes. Pulling myself into check, I nodded and reached for my phone.

“When you’re done here, come find me,” he went on, watching my changing expression.

“Sure.” I swallowed hard and turned my attention onto my work.

Registering the fight with the AUFC didn’t take long. Both Twins had fought a great deal in the few years I’d been working with them, so it was in and out with minimal fuss. Being a title fight, the approval went through straight away, and by the end of the day, I was sure we’d see advertisements going out online and through the pay-per-view sports channels. The turnaround was phenomenal.

Out in the gym, I found Gabe on his own for once. He was in the back corner lifting a set of dumbbells, his muscles plump from his workout. My gaze lingered a moment too long as I approached, and his lips curved in amusement.

“You wanted to talk to me?” I asked, standing before him.

“Yeah, have a seat.” He nodded toward the bench press opposite.

Reluctantly, I sat on the end and folded my hands into my lap. I already knew where this was going, and I didn’t want to talk about it. I might have left Sydney on bad terms with Dean, but I wasn’t about to spill all their secrets to their archnemesis. Not even a broken heart could drive me to do something so spiteful. Even stupid bitches like me had their limits.

“Why did you leave the Hayes Twins?” Gabe asked, lifting the dumbbell again. “You were never clear on that.”

“Difference of opinion,” I replied with a noncommittal shrug.

He raised an eyebrow and continued his repetitions. “He was real easy to get to when we fought.” I frowned, and Gabe laughed, shaking his head. “If you weren’t already fucking him then, he sure wanted to.”

“Who said I was fucking him?” I asked, my pride hurting.

“You did.”


Did not
.”

“You didn’t say it, Cunningham,” he said with a chuckle. “You showed it on several occasions. The Gala is a real good example. Hard to miss it when you get a fist in your face for dancing with a beautiful woman. Then both of you disappeared.”

“We got kicked out,” I said with a pout.

“If you say so, darling.” He pouted back, and I resisted the urge to smack him one.

“Where is this going?” I asked, trying to keep my exasperation in check. “I’ve got work to do, so if that’s all…”

“You’re his weakness,” he mused, ignoring me. “That will work.”

“I am not his weakness,” I said. “He’s with someone, and it’s obviously not me.”

Gabe paused, the dumbbell hovering in midair. “He dumped you for another women?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Man, that guy is an epic douche,” he said with a shake of his head. “He was the guy who made you run into my tongue the other week, right?”

“Run into your tongue?” I exclaimed, recoiling. “I feel sick.”

He laughed and set the dumbbell onto the floor. “You know I love this push-pull thing we’ve got going on, right?”

“Damned if I do, damned if I don’t,” I shot back.

“He must’ve done something real shit to make you quit and come to me. I bet his head’s exploded by now,” he said with a chuckle. Right then, he was really bathing in the glow of his own self-importance. “Don’t worry, Cunningham. I’ve got your back.”

“Lucky me,” I drawled.

“How do they train?” he asked, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. Shit, the guy had thighs like tree trunks.

“How do they what?” I asked, blinking hard.

“Train,” Gabe said with yet another laugh at my awkwardness. “What is their prep like?”

My mouth dropped open at his blatant questioning. The man had absolutely no shame whatsoever. Seriously, I wasn’t sure why I was surprised considering the way he fought.

“I signed a nondisclosure agreement,” I declared haughtily.

“C’mon,” he crooned, flashing me a lopsided grin. “No one is around to hear. I’ll keep it to myself. Just give me a little hint.”

“No,” I said, digging my heels in. “I can’t afford to. I’m not rich or powerful. I’d get steamrolled in court.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “We’re both going into the octagon with one goal, Cunningham. To win. It’s the name of the game, and I’m sure Hayes will do whatever it takes to win back the title. I’m sure he’s digging for dirt right now, which is exactly what I’m doing. Any fighter would do the same.”

“You’re asking me to break the law,” I said, shaking my head. “I signed a binding contract.”

“And do you really think he’d sue you? The woman who’s got his balls in a vice?” He raked his gaze over me, lingering a little too long on my breasts before returning his eyes to mine. “C’mon. I wasn’t born yesterday. He broke your heart. Probably dumped you for that other woman you say he’s got. Doesn’t that just eat you up inside? Live a little and take a potshot at him. Use me, Cunningham. I’m up for it. You know that.” He winked suggestively.

“Me being here is more than enough,” I snapped, reacting badly to his attempts at shaking the one thing I believed in most in this industry. My professionalism as a woman in a man’s world. “If you want insider information, you’re not getting it from me.”

Gabe leaned back, his cocky expression melting away. Scowling, he rose to his feet. “You’re lucky you’re good at your job,” he drawled. “And you’re right about one thing. You being here gets to him. Imagine how much I can twist the knife when I tell him all about our little dry humping session.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” I exclaimed, practically jumping to my feet.

I didn’t know why the hell I cared if Dean found out. He was off doing the same thing with Monica Miller. Shit, I was such a hypocrite. He’d done exactly the same thing I’d done to Hamish. Damn, this was such a mess…

“Why do you care, Cunningham?” Gabe asked, voicing my thoughts. “No matter what you say, you still care a little too much for him.”

“How would you know that? Can you see inside my head now, Gabe? Are you all powerful?”

He didn’t reply, he just reached for his phone and tapped the screen. A moment later, the sound of my voice echoed through our little corner of the gym. It was my phone call with Ren… How the hell did he get a recording? It was just my voice, Ren’s answers couldn’t be heard, but it was enough. It was the whole story and then some.

“How…” I breathed deeply, my skin beginning to crawl. “That’s an invasion of privacy.”

Ignoring me, he pressed stop on the recording and said, “I was thinking about lining up an interview with the press to tell them the real story behind what happened at the Tightrope Gala.”

My mouth dropped open. “But that would—”

“Destroy Dean Hayes’s career?”

The dirty bastard
. I was hurting, but I’d never do anything to tear down the man who broke me. That was Monica Miller’s MO, not mine. No matter what he’d done to me, I couldn’t do that to Dean. Never.

Gabe O’Connell was rotten through and through.

He smiled, his lips curving into the wickedest grin I’d ever seen. He knew he had me cornered. I was trapped.

“If you want me to keep my mouth shut, you’ll play by my rules,” he said, backing away. “Just you remember who your master is, Josie.”

I began to shake as the full realization of what I’d done hit me in the chest. By walking through those doors and begging the enemy for a job, I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. I’d given him all the ammunition he needed to bring down Dean, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Gabe O’Connell was blackmailing me
.

I loved Dean. I had always known it, and I would always live with it, but knowing I was going to be responsible for destroying his life and his dream? What he’d done was nothing on what I’d just blundered my way into. I was stuck in a nightmare of my own creation. No matter which way I turned, Dean would lose.

I’d become the thing I hated the most. The pain, the desire, and the hatred…

I was Monica Miller version two point oh.

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