Blindsided (The Fighter Series Book 1) Read online

  “Holy shit, Paigey.” Blain stops and grabs my hand pulling me out from behind him. He points to two black seats with red cushions and a sign sitting on both: Reserved. “Look how damn close we are to the ring.” He sounds like an excited little boy getting his first Big Wheel for Christmas.

  We’re front row of the biggest section and literally closest to the cage. My nerves spike. There’s no way he won’t see us. There’s no way I won’t see him half naked, sweat dripping from his beautiful body, his muscles flexing…I’m a wreck.

  Blain nudges my shoulder. “If this was on TV you’d be jumping around ready for the fight. You should be thrilled,” he says loudly over the crowd.

  I look at the seats then back to him. “Look how close we are. He’s going to know that I’m here.”

  “What if he doesn’t care?”

  I open my mouth to respond but quickly shut it. The thought has never crossed my mind. What if he doesn’t care and this is an honest apology to Blain? I had my chance and didn’t take it so why would he waste his time on someone who isn’t interested?

  As we settle in our seats I take everything in. The rubber coated metal of the fence, the black skirt that flows along the bottom, and the bloodstained mat. That’s when it occurs to me that if someone gets busted open, I will smell the copper, I will see the blood pouring from the open wound, and I know there’s a chance it could be splattered on me. The thought makes me nauseous. All the emotions—excited, nervous, stoked, scared—it’s all overwhelming.

  A tap on my shoulder makes me jump and I twirl around. A very large muscular man in a black shirt with “Stiles” printed in bright yellow lettering on the front stands directly to my right. “Are you Paige?”

  Unsure of what’s going on, I nod. “Uh, yeah?”

  “Levi wants to see you,” he informs me.

  I turn to Blain in disbelief giving him the “I told you so” glare, then back toward the man. “Um, well, tell him I said thanks but no thanks. Oh! And tell him I said good luck.” I smile satisfied with my response. I think it was nice of me.

  The man’s brows furrow as he leans down eye level with me. “All due respect, Paige, you can tell him yourself. You couldn’t pay me enough to go back there without you.”

  My nerves have me wanting to run out the door. Flee the scene and not look back, but for some ridiculous reason courage is barking out of my mouth. “A man like you afraid to tell him I said no?”

  His lips spread wide as he reaches his hand out to me. “He said you were sassy. Come on,” he orders.

  Whelp, I guess I can protest this until I’m blue in the face or just deal with it. I stand and turn to Blain silently pleading for his help, but instead he gives me a nonchalant brow lift and says, “Have fun.”

  Figures. “Come on,” I sigh at the man.

  He leads me by the small of my back through the crowd of people, through a few halls and down a set of metal steps. I’m more irritated than scared although I swear this man could be taking me somewhere to have his way with me. I knew there had to be a catch to Blain getting tickets.

  We push through the doors on the last floor and instantly I’m swallowed by the darkness of a dimly lit hallway with doors on each side. Matching the shirt the man behind me is wearing, all the doors have the fighters’ names on them. You can hear shouting, hyping up, the particular sound of the gloves smacking the leather bags as you pass by them. It’s everything I’ve imagined behind the scenes to look like.

  As we end the hallway, I spot his door—Stiles. My heart is a solid hum when the man knocks and opens the door just enough to stick only his head in. He exchanges a few words then pushes the door, gesturing me to enter.

  I take a second to fill my lungs to their capacity, pull my shoulders back and shove my sweaty hands into my pockets before stepping through the threshold. I’m trembling forcing my feet to take their steps—one in front of the other.

  The room isn’t what I expected. It smells of sweat and cleaning supplies mixed with musty cement and leather. There isn’t any yelling, Levi isn’t jumping around in the middle of the room sparring to keep his muscles warm, there isn’t the distinctive sound of punches landing on the bag…there’s nothing. There are only a few people in the room, two on their phone and an older man reading a magazine, but they all have their eyes on me.

  Levi is straddling a chair as Adam wraps his hands when he looks up, noticing me. His dimples beam and his eyes light up, which cause tingles to jolt through my spine threatening to take my already wobbly legs out from under me. He’s wearing red gym shorts, sporting a black hat backward… shirtless. I’ve often contemplated what he looks like without clothes, and my daydreams have nothing on the real thing. He’s unbelievably gorgeous. Tribal tattoos cover his right arm following it up and wrapping around his shoulder and onto his right pec. Flames dance down his ribs and continue under his waistband. He’s the most erotic creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. Straight from TV to reality.

  “You made it this time,” he says delightfully.

  “How’d you know I was here?” I ask.

  “I have my ways,” he winks.

  Adam glances up and flashes a half smile. “Hey, Paige.” But just as quickly, he drops his view back to Levi’s hands concentrating on wrapping them.

  I nod politely, then home in on the one who has me an irritated jittery mess. “Was there something you needed, Levi?”

  “Just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

  “Seriously?” That should have had a foot stomp.

  He closes his eyes and releases a puff of air. “Seriously.”

  I groan and turn for the door. Metal screeches across the cement as a chair slides. Levi bounds in front of me before I can reach the handle and grips my shoulders. “Wait a damn minute. What’s your problem, Sassy?”

  “There isn’t a problem other than I get what you’re trying to do and I’m not freaking falling for it.” This too should have had a foot stomp.

  “Explain to me what I’m trying to do.” His voice is deep and low. “I’m trying to make a new friend.” His damn grin is infectious.

  I pull my shoulders back, making him release his grip, and jam my hand on my hip. “You truly expect me to fall for that?”

  “You’re a breath of fresh air.”

  “Then step outside and get more of it,” I quip.

  He chuckles moving out from between me and the door. “You can leave if you want.” And just like that I’m dismissed.

  I stare at the black scratched metal door contemplating whether I should go or stay. I twist around just as he sits back down in front of Adam. “You know you’re a cocky ass?” I say loudly across the room.

  His eyes flick up with that damn cocky ass smirk.

  I’ve had it!

  I stomp to the table, full on tantrum style. “What do you want from me, Levi?”

  “A date,” he says impassively.

  I glance between him and Adam, baffled and pissed at his persistence. “As you’ve seen, I’m busy. I have two jobs that keep me constantly moving, and I’m not interested in being a hook up. Friends I can manage. I say hey, you say hey, but past that I am not interested.”

  My heart is a jackhammer in my ears, my hands tremble from the adrenaline. Adam’s face drops causing me to be more concerned at the fact I just fussed at him in front of everyone. I know how men’s egos work.

  Levi shakes his head as he chuckles under his breath. “I know you’re busy.” He sticks his half-wrapped hand out for me to shake. “Friends then.”

  I stare at it for a moment, trying to run the many possibilities of what his plans could be but then give in and take it. Something inside me says I just made a deal with the devil.

  I don’t say anything else, leaving the conversation as is, and head to leave. Again everyone’s eyes are on me. I turn back just before shutting the heavy door. “Good luck,” I say quietly and then without seeing his expression, I pull it closed.

  The hallway isn’t as
empty as it was when I initially walked down it with the big dude. The first preliminary fighters have been summoned and their teams have readied in the halls waiting for their cue to head out to the cage. The energy in here is extraordinary. Adrenaline scuttles through the air so thick I swear it’s ricocheting off the walls and seeping up from the floors. I duck and weave through the bodies, going back the way I came, almost invisible to everyone. They aren’t paying me any attention. They’re amped up ready to fight.

  I find my chair and drop into it, exhaling the air stuck in my lungs from the mass of people I just wove my way through.

  “So how was it? Did you get to see Levi?” Blain asks not giving me a moment to unwind from the intimidation I just faced.

  “I did, and it was awesome as hell,” I bounce in my seat clapping my hands. “It’s nothing like we—” I’m interrupted by music blaring from the speakers above. The crowd begins to shout at the first fighters coming out. “I’ll tell you later,” I mouth then turn my attention to the cage.

  Surprisingly, I’ve made it through the first several bouts of fights without losing my lunch. The smell of blood and sweat hovers around me. I heard every thud of kicks landing, every smack of leather on skin, and I could even hear the wind being knocked out a few of the men. I hid my head into Blain’s arm more than a time or two. Watching it on TV versus seeing this in person are two completely different animals. To be honest, although I love the sport, it’s much more satisfying for me to be on the other side of the television screen yelling at it. Blain on the other hand is thoroughly enjoying the fights, twisting and ducking, mimicking the men’s moves.

  “This is fucking intense, Paigey!” Blain yells as the arena readies for the main event. “Fuck yes!”

  All of a sudden, the lights turn off and it goes eerily dark as the crowd begins to scream. It’s beyond deafening. Anxiety rushes me as the energy of the arena changes. Lights begin flickering, and the place lights back up with a bright spotlight shining on the entrance to our left.

  Blain stretches on his tiptoes. “It’s not Levi.” Although he’s inches away from me, he’s barely a whisper over the crowd.

  Once again, the lights go out and this time the screams become a dizzying roar. Blue and white lights dance on the floors and twirl through the audience. A familiar beat blasts from the speakers and out of excitement, I grab Blain’s arm.

  “I fucking love this song!” I scream. How ironic Levi would come out to “A Warrior’s Call” by Volbeat? It fits the situation and his personality perfectly.

  To our right, a group of men emerge from the entrance, one of them Levi in a grey hoodie and still in the black hat he was wearing earlier. People lean, stretching over the railing in hopes for a high five, maybe even to get to touch him, but he’s too focused, bouncing and shadow boxing as he heads toward the cage.

  Levi and his group of men stop just outside allowing him to strip out of his shirt and let a referee pat him down and check him. He’s so close I can see him show his mouth guard and tap his cup. After the ok, he leaps up the stairs but stops short of entering, throwing his gloves up and circling around for the crowd. He jogs the ring to his spot with confidence rolling off his perfect body and his normal cocky ass smirk. His tattoos seem to define his muscles, moving with each flex, each shift of his body.

  He talks to an older man through the fence nodding, then rocks his head back and forth and turns to his opponent. Next, his eyes divert straight to me and my heart stops, nearly jumping out of my chest. There’s a softness in his eyes that swallows the determination he just had. A tug of thrill engulfs me sending a tickle down my body. Awkwardly, I give him a shy smile and force myself to peel away from the grip his eyes have on me.

  Back focused on his opponent, he jumps on the balls of his feet and shakes his arms out. The announcer introduces the fighters, but my eyes have inadvertently glued back on Levi. He shows no nervousness, standing tall, confident, and oddly relaxed. I know if it was me in that ring, I’d be shaking in my boots and my underwear would be soaked from pee. But not Levi — he’s solid and steady.

  My emotions are confusing. I don’t know what I’m feeling. Adrenaline? Fear? Excitement? Whatever it is has my stomach in knots.

  “Probably doesn’t make him feel good that you’re sitting with your arms crossed over your chest like you’re pissed to be here,” Blain yells in my ear.

  Swamped in the overwhelming rush of emotions, I hadn’t noticed my stare dropped to the black skirt of the ring. I roll my eyes and unfold my arms, gripping my hands in my lap and picking at my fingernails. This is hard to watch. Damn Levi for getting in my head. It’s been his plan the whole time and unfortunately for me, it’s fucking working.

  “Paigey, look up!” Blain pushes my shoulder.

  Levi’s irked and glaring at me. He motions with his fingers to his eyes. Watch me…

  I pinch my lips together and squint. He doesn’t need to know he’s in my head and crowding my thoughts. It will only blow up his massive ego even more.

  The referee pulls the two men into the middle barking rules then makes them tap gloves before backing up to their corners. Once the bell rings, the sound of the arena becomes fierce. Ivan, his opponent, rushes Levi and throws a right punch but Levi evades and immediately sends a right jab into Ivan’s face. His head jerks back, but he quickly regains, putting his hands back up. Just as Levi kicks Ivan in the ribs, I duck my head. The thud is brutal.

  I hear a few more hits before my eyes find their way back to the entertainment just in time to see Levi’s elbow landing into Ivan’s eye, splitting it and sending blood spattering. That’s it! I can’t watch anymore and begin counting the lace holes of my Chucks.

  I know it’s safe to look up once the bell rings. It’s break time, and they’re not fighting any longer. Inside the cage is busy with trainers and other people surrounding both fighters. They’re shouting instructions, placing ice bags on them to either cool them off or prevent swelling, and as quickly as they came…they’re out with both fighters staring each other down once again.

  The bell rings and this time Levi doesn’t wait for Ivan to make the first move. He steps inside his guard, landing a right hook with a left jab directly behind it. Ivan stumbles and Levi takes advantage of it, throwing a powerful kick to Ivan’s thigh. Ivan sends a sloppy right punch into the air, but Levi lunges, taking them down onto the mat. Swiftly, he maneuvers Ivan’s arm between his legs and heaves backward.

  Oh God!

  Ivan winces and tries to wiggle out, bucking from underneath, but by the look on his face he’s in serious pain. Overcome by it, he finally taps out. The crowd’s roar slams into my chest and takes my breath as the ref calls the fight. Levi scrambles to his feet and screams as the cage becomes engulfed with the trainers, press, and sponsors slapping him on the back and chest, excited about his win.

  “Let’s go,” I pull on Blain’s shirt. He’s euphoric backed up with a massive dose of adrenaline. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy he won, excited as hell, but I’m ready to get out of here.

  Blain frowns but grabs my hand leading the way out. I don’t look back, petrified that Levi’s watching me leave. Scared that although he won, his celebration is short lived as he watches me walk out.

  It’s almost three in the morning when we finally arrive home. The whole ride home Blain was pumped and it hasn’t ended as he now stands in the living room fighting with an invisible opponent, ducking and weaving.

  “In-fucking-sane, Paige. I’m never going to be able to sleep,” he says breathless and bounces a few more times then flops on the couch.

  “Yeah, that was pretty cool,” I reply casually.

  “Who are you trying to kid with your ridiculous front?” The excitement in his voice is now gone, replaced with aggravation.

  I pinch my brows together. “What do you mean?”

  He studies me with frustration flaring in his eyes. “I guess yourself.” He shakes his head then heads for the door to the stairs.


  I jump from my seat tailing him. “What do you mean?” I repeat sliding across the hardwood floor.

  “You’re not stupid,” he huffs. “Quit acting like you are. Good night.”

  I’m left with my mouth gaped open staring at a wooden door as he shuts it behind him. What the hell did he mean?

  Chapter 6

  Oh for fuck’s sakes. Getting Paige to go on a date with me is like pulling teeth from a fucking wolverine. I hate the word no. Despise it. So when it’s said, it pisses me off. When I want something, I get it. There should be no arguing. Call me what you want—spoiled, pampered, indulgent—I’m not. I just like having things my way. It always works better that way. My way.

  I had to follow her friend to his work and give him tickets hoping he’d talk her into going. I might have dropped a few hints that she should come, but the dude fell for it. I pried information and found out she had to work at the bar, so I paid her boss a visit. Money talks and don’t let anyone else tell you any differently. I offered him a price to let her off for the night. He put up a good fight. He likes her, said she was his best. I’m sure she is. But I gave him a price he couldn’t refuse on a fucking gamble that she would even show up. He eventually saw things my way and let her off. See it yet? My way—it worked.

  When she walked into my room, I saw something in her as she quietly made her way to me. Her eyes held a different side from what her mouth keeps spewing. She can put up that front all she wants, but I can read her better than she thinks. What can I say? It’s a gift.