Tapping out Read online

  It’s late, probably almost midnight, and everyone is sleeping. I should be asleep as well but I can’t stop thinking about Marco, wondering if this is my last chance to talk to him before I move to California. I know two people can live and train in the same city and avoid each other but that’s not what I want. Marco has been in my life for so long. The idea of going another year or more without talking makes me sad.

  Concluding it’s best to stop dwelling and obsessing, and just go to him so we can talk, I grab my cellphone and head out back quietly so I don’t wake anyone up.

  I get to the guesthouse and knock before I chicken out. About a minute later Marco answers the door. He is standing there in nothing but his tight grey briefs, his chiseled abs taunting me. He opens his mouth to yell at whoever was banging on his door but when he sees it’s me, his mouth closes.

  “Bella.” One word. Just my name. Yet it has so many emotions behind it.

  “So, about that bet…” I have no idea where that comes from.

  “You here to pay up?” Marco smirks.

  “I’m here to discuss payment options. Can I come in?”

  Marco studies me for a moment. What he’s looking for, I’m not sure, but whatever it is, he must find it, because he opens the door wider allowing me access. And suddenly all the anger I had built up, all the words I had rehearsed to say to him go straight out the window, lust taking over in its place.

  I throw myself at Marco, my arms going around his neck while my legs hop up to wrap around his waist, not even considering he might reject me, that he might push me away. But he doesn’t, instead he catches me with one hand, his other hand slamming the door behind us. I assume he’s walking us to his bedroom but I pay no attention, keeping my focus on the man carrying me.

  Our mouths collide and we are all teeth and tongues and hands. Marco lays me down on the bed and breaks our kiss. He stares are me for a moment and I hold my breath, afraid he’s going to run.

  “Fuck it,” is all he says before his mouth is back on mine.

  Five

  Marco

  Four months ago…

  “Ladies and gentlemen, in round two by way of a chokehold, the new Light Heavyweight champion, Marco ‘The Maniac’ Michaels!!!!”

  The crowds’ screams—which were already loud—go deafening. The belt is put on me and it seems in this moment like my life is almost complete. My dad comes running to me from the corner and envelops me in a hug. With the fight being in Vegas, there was no doubt my dad wouldn’t be ringside with me.

  The rest of my team all come over to give me hugs. I know this is only the beginning of my career as a fighter but fuck if this doesn’t feel damn good. With sixteen wins, I am undefeated and now carry the championship belt for my weight class.

  After a couple, quick interviews in the octagon, I head to the locker room to get the medical attention I need and take a shower.

  “Son, I am so damn proud of you,” my dad says again as my mom rubs alcohol over the few cuts on my face. I always insist—even though she isn’t the medic for the UFC anymore and she’s now running her own sports medicine clinic—that she be my medic at any fight she can attend, and she always agrees.

  Hayley and Caleb Michaels are the two people who matter the most to me in this world. They saved my life thirteen years ago from my druggy biological mom. Caleb literally saved my life from drug dealers who were going to kill me, and Hayley took me in and adopted me like I was her own. The two of them are the reason my sister was adopted by Bentley and Kayla, and has lived a life most kids only dream of. I owe them everything and I doubt I will ever be able to pay them back. The fact is, if it wasn’t for them, I would either be dead or still on the streets selling drugs to take care of my mom and sister.

  “Fuck yes!” My best friend Logan stalks into the locker-room and comes at me for a hug. “Fuck yes!” He repeats. I met Logan when he started training at the UFC training center in San Diego about three years ago and we became quick friends.

  “You too, man! You rocked your fucking fight!”

  “Hell yeah! Let’s go! We need to celebrate! And since you’re the champion, I’m driving.”

  We both shower and change clothes to go out. My parents join us, along with some of my parents’ friends. Because the fight was in Vegas and not California, only a few other fighters from my training camp are here as well.

  We agree on Club Eleven and Logan calls ahead to let them know we are on our way. With the win tonight being on Pay-Per-View, it’s going to be crazy no matter where we go. We jump into Logan’s rental car, a beautiful Porsche 911. Like me, Logan comes from a family who makes a decent living, but where I prefer to save my money, in fear of one day not having it, Logan likes to spend his anywhere and everywhere he can. When you’ve never gone without a meal for days at a time, you can’t understand what it’s like.

  I pull my phone out and see a bunch of texts from people congratulating me on my win. I type out a thank you to each one. Then I see one from someone I haven’t spoken to in two years. Bella.

  Belles: Congratulations.

  It’s only one word but it weighs down my stomach like lead. For a while I used to see her almost daily at the gym, until I figured out her schedule and since then have gone out of my way to work out and train when she isn’t there. Her and Tristan moved here to attend college in San Diego about a year and a half ago, and I thought for sure she would push for us to pick up where we left off but she hasn’t so much as spoken a single word to me, and in return I haven’t tried to talk to her.

  The way I left shit over Christmas break was fucked up but that seems to be how it goes with me when it comes to Bella. I met her when I was twelve years old. At the time, she was only six but we quickly became close. While her and Tristan were already friends, Bella and I formed a different kind of friendship. I can’t explain it but she was everything to me.

  She never asked questions. She just wanted to fight. She pushed me to my limits and encouraged me. Everything was fan-fucking-tastic until she hit puberty. I don’t know when it happened but I stopped looking at her like one of the guys and saw her for who she was… who she is. A beautiful fucking woman.

  The first time I kissed her, I knew I was fucked. I ran like the little bitch I was—well, still am—straight to California. I saw her a year later at a party and if it wasn’t for Mason stopping us, we would have probably fucked right there against the wall.

  You would think those two close encounters would be enough for me to stay the hell away from her, but then my dad begged me to join them for Christmas, and there she was looking stunning as always at my door, in her tiny fucking pajamas throwing herself into my arms, and like the dog I am, I thought with the wrong fucking head.

  I took her virginity that night. We had sex… no, fuck that, it was more than sex with Bella. We made love a few times that night, but then when I woke up and reality hit me, and once again, I ran. Bella is probably the best person I know. She is selfless and giving and she cares about everyone around her. She is genuine and sweet and so damn smart. Any guy would be lucky to have her. But I can’t be that guy for multiple reasons.

  One: I am six years older than her. Sure, now it’s not really a big deal but back then we would have gotten major shit for being together; not legally, because it’s legal where we lived in Nevada, but her parents would have killed me.

  Two: Our parents are best friends and work together. What if we gave it a go and then it didn’t work out? And while I am Caleb and Hayley’s kid, I’m still me, which leads me to the next reason.

  Three: My bloodline is tainted. My biological mother was a druggie whore. She wasn’t always that way but once she met my biological father she fell down the rabbit hole and never came back up. My biological father is Ricardo Sanchez. He’s not alive anymore but when I hired a private investigator to look him up, I found out he had multiple wives illegally as well as several children. All his wives are druggies just like my mom.

  Seeing how
much he fucked up each and every one of those women, I made the choice to never settle down. There’s no way I am taking the chance of fucking up another woman, let alone procreating. Fuck that.

  So, that is why I had to walk away from Bella. Every day I miss her something fierce. I see her at the gym and want to go to her. I want to hug her and hold her and go back to being best friends again. There’s a hole in my heart where she belongs. But we crossed the line and there’s just no going back from that.

  I’m assuming by the fact that I’m still alive, she never told anybody about us. Because if she had, I’m fairly certain her father would have hunted me down and killed me. Tristan and I still talk and hang out. He asked me once what happened with me and Bella, but when I asked him to drop it, he did.

  Tristan is a good guy. I thought for a while, him and Bella might end up together but it seems they are just good friends. They share an apartment right off campus, which is situated between the college and the gym. I live on the beach in a kickass condo with my cousin, Mathias.

  One good thing that came from my mom—other than my sister Chloe—was her sister, my Aunt Jenn, and her son, Mathias. My dad found them for me and I used the excuse of wanting to get to know them as my reason for leaving for California so suddenly. My aunt had cut all ties with my mom so she had no idea my mom had overdosed all those years ago but once I contacted her, she welcomed Chloe and me with open arms.

  “Bro! Snap out of it!” I look at Logan and see we are parked in front of the club, the Valet guy standing there, waiting for me to get out of the car.

  “Sorry. I was just thinking.”

  “No thinking tonight. Tonight, we celebrate. You drink and I’ll drive. You’ve earned a night of letting loose.”

  I look down at my phone at Bella’s text. There’s so many ways I could respond to her text. I could reply with a simple thank you, leaving no room to continue the conversation, or I could tack on a ‘how are you?’ which would mean should would reply.

  Knowing it’s best not to lead her on, I go with a simple thank you. Then shove my phone into my front pocket wishing things could be different but knowing they can’t be.

  It’s three in the morning and while I have been drinking, I’m not trashed. I have spent most of the night talking with my family and friends, especially those I don’t get to see often. My parents and their friends have just left, and I promised Kayla I would be by in the morning to have brunch with them so I can visit with my sister before I head back to California. I can’t believe my baby sister is thirteen years old.

  “You ready to head out?” I ask Logan. He’s been sweet talking some female all night and I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m taking a taxi back so he can head out with her.

  “Yeah, I’m ready.” He stands from the booth and wobbles a little bit. I haven’t seen him touch an ounce of alcohol all night but…

  “You good to drive?” I ask. “We can take a taxi back.”

  “No, I’m good. You know they will tow my car if we leave it here overnight.”

  “All right.”

  We say bye to anybody still here then head to the valet stand to have them bring Logan’s car around. Usually I will stay with my parents when I come to visit, but with Logan and a couple of the other guys from our gym staying at the MGM Grand where the fight was held, I decided to room with them instead.

  The valet opens our doors for us and I throw them a tip. Then Logan takes off back to the hotel. My phone dings with a text and when I look to see who it is, I find myself disappointed it’s not Bella.

  Janell: Nice win tonight. See you when you get back

  Attached to her text is a photo of her naked, lying in bed.

  Me: Thanks.

  I don’t bother commenting on the photo. She sends them all the time. She already knows she’s fucking hot, and she knows when I get back I’ll be fucking her. She also knows that’s all we will be doing. Before I put my phone away, another text comes in.

  Bella: I miss you

  Well, fuck me. I didn’t see that coming. I stare at my phone deciding how to respond. It’s three in the morning. I’m surprised she’s still awake.

  Me: Me too.

  I hover over the send button. Fuck! That sounds douchey. I hit backspace and type out I miss you too. Just as I am about to hit send, the car jerks to the side. My head shoots up to see what’s going on and suddenly the car is flipping in the air. I hear glass shattering as the car flips several times then my head hits the side… or maybe the ceiling… I’m not sure.

  And everything goes black.

  Six

  Bella

  Three months ago…

  “Marco is finally healed enough to come home and will be arriving this morning. Are you seriously not coming to visit him?” Tristan gives me a look that tells me he thinks I’m being a bitch but I don’t give in.

  “Marco and I haven’t spoken in over two years. I’m not just showing up at his condo.”

  The truth is I have typed up several text messages to him but chicken out every time I go to hit send. The last text I sent him was me telling him I miss him and he never responded. The message said read so I know he saw it but he didn’t reply. It was the night of his accident, the night he won the championship belt. I got emotional and tried to put myself out there. Unfortunately, he didn’t reciprocate. I know I should give him the benefit of the doubt since it’s possible the accident happened before he could respond but I’m too scared to text him again and put myself out there again. What if he saw it and just didn’t want to respond? God! I sound like such a wimp right now!

  “For reasons, nobody will clue me in on. Whatever happened between you two isn’t important right now. The guy was in a car accident. He was nearly killed. Shit, Logan is still in a coma. Whatever beef you have with Marco should be put on the back burner. He needs us, Bella.”

  “Tristan, will you just leave her alone?” Gina, Tristan’s bitchy girlfriend gives me a saccharine smile but I know it’s fake as hell. Everything about her is fake. From her fake hair to her fake nails to her fake ass personality. They met at the bar she works at and hit it off, which completely blows my mind. She is the opposite of everything Tristan stands for. She smokes weed, dabbles in drugs, and has no goals for her future other than finding out where and when the next party is. To be honest, I don’t even know what the hell Tristan sees in her but whatever. She apparently makes him happy and I guess that’s all that matters.

  “If she wants to visit Marco, she will. Can we just go, please? And we need to stop by Starbucks on the way. I need a coffee so bad. I have the worst hang over.” Ugh! Her whiny voice is the equivalent to nails on a chalkboard… No! Worse! The equivalent of a knife scraping a ceramic plate!

  “You wouldn’t be hung over if you wouldn’t have hit the bottle so hard last night.” Tristan gives her a look that a parent gives a teenager who has misbehaved, and I have to hold back my eye roll. I swear he spends ninety percent of their relationship trying to reign her in and change who she is. When will he realize he can’t fix her?

  “Tristan… can we please not do this? My head is going to explode.” Tristan sighs but nods in agreement grabbing his keys. Before they walk out the door he gives me a look of disappointment. I grab my phone and pull up my text messages. Scrolling down, I find Marco’s name. It still shows the message I sent him that night. I take a deep breath then type out a text.

  Me: I heard you are going home today. I’m glad you are okay.

  There! He knows I care but I’m not opening myself up to be rejected.

  I stare at the phone for a few minutes and when it dings—even though I’m staring at the damn phone! —I jump.

  Marco: Thank you.

  Okay… well I guess that’s that. Another thank you as a reply pretty much makes it clear how he feels… or doesn’t feel, in this case. I click out of the text message and click on YouTube. I have a fight coming up in four months and I am determined to learn everything I nee
d to about Shawna Fields. She is originally from Russia and has been fighting her entire life like me. She’s currently undefeated just like I am, only she has twice as many wins under her belt as I do. It’s not going to be a main fight but if I can beat her, I will be on my way to securing something bigger.

  I watch three different videos but I couldn’t tell you what happens in any of them. My brain is mush. Ever since I found out Marco was in a horrific car accident, where his best friend Logan swerved to avoid a collision only to cause one of his own, leaving him in a coma and Marco with a broken arm, three broken ribs, and god knows what else, I haven’t been able to focus on anything but thinking about Marco and how he’s doing.

  Because the accident was in Las Vegas, Marco and Logan were brought to the local hospital. After the doctors determined Logan was in a coma, Logan’s parents had him moved to a private facility. Marco was in the hospital for about two weeks then he spent another couple weeks recovering at his parents’ house. My dad asked if I wanted to fly over to visit Marco, but I told him I couldn’t. I used school as an excuse. With midterms next month, I need to stay on top of my studies.

  The truth is I’m halfway through my Sophomore year and surprisingly, I’m enjoying being in college and I am on top of all my classes. I could have made a weekend trip to see Marco but I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t walk into his room and see him battered and bruised and broken. I couldn’t see him after he almost lost his life. I wouldn’t have been able to handle it. I would have lost it in front of everybody, and I can’t do that. I have to keep it together because whether I like it or not, Marco doesn’t want me the way I want him. I know he loves me in his own way, but it’s not the way I love him, and it hurts too damn bad to be around him knowing I will never have his heart the way he has mine. The way he’s had my heart for the last several years.