Jagged Harts, page 8
“Bullshit,” I scoff. “Everyone wants something, so what do you want?”
His eyes flare and I mentally prepare myself for whatever dirty or degrading thing he is about to ask for. Instead, he surprises the hell out of me when he answers.
“Just say thank you.”
I furrow my brows for a moment. It can’t be that easy, can it? The sincerity that is plainly written across his face would disagree with my skepticism though. I nod slowly as I swallow back a sudden rush of emotions.
“Thank you.”
Before I can think twice about it, I take a step forward and wrap my arms around him in a quick hug. As soon as my body touches his, my brain goes haywire. What the fuck am I doing? Why the hell am I touching him? Why the hell did I initiate it? I blame Cole and Kayla. They are making me a hugger and it’s gross.
I go to pull away but before I can Dax pulls me tightly into him and buries his face into my neck. He takes a deep breath before he blows it out. I swear it feels like he just smelled my hair. I try to think about the last time that I washed it and feel relief when I realize I did last night, so it must not smell that bad.
He makes the hug last a lot longer than I was planning on. When I try to pull away again, his arms tighten just slightly. The gesture is surprisingly tender for someone who seems so detached with the women I have seen him with. They are always going out of their way for his attention, but he rarely returns it. Only by placing a hand on a hip or allowing them to sit on him or touch him. He is never the initiator, at least that I have seen.
“No problem,” his gruff voice breathes out just above a whisper.
Then he reaches out and brushes a loose strand that has fallen from my ponytail and tucks it behind my ear. I can’t quite name what emotion is dancing in his eyes right now, but it’s like he has truly dropped his mask and I am seeing the real him for the first time. The only word that I can give it is intense. I bite the inside of my cheek and look down, trying to break whatever the hell is going on right now. Seemingly on the same page, Dax takes a step back as he clears his throat.
“So, I can start working on Bobby a little at a time. I am hoping it shouldn’t take longer than two to three weeks.”
I narrow my eyes at his intentional misuse of her name. “Okay. I work most days but anytime I don’t, I will be here.”
“You don’t have to help, short stuff, really. There isn’t much you can do, it’s kind of a one-person job.”
I can’t help but feel a little disappointed at the fact that he doesn’t want me here. I am sure that I will probably get in the way more than anything, but I see this as an opportunity to learn something that I need to know so that I can avoid more situations like yesterday.
“I know you probably don’t want me in your personal space, but I really would like to learn. I have never had the chance to learn about cars and I think it’s something I probably should know more about.”
He nods at that, seemingly agreeing.
“Yeah, everyone should know at least the basics. Well, if you really want to help then you can. Just let me know.”
“Okay. Well, I don’t work on Tuesday.”
“Then I’ll see you on Tuesday, short stuff.”
Dax tried to offer me a ride home, but I told him no and reminded him that I am very capable of taking care of myself. If I am being honest things were a little too weird with him today. I didn’t think that I could handle a 15-minute car ride with him right then.
On Tuesday I went over to Dax’s place, and we got to work. I quickly realized that there really wasn’t anything for me to help with, so I made myself comfortable on the couch he had off in the corner and watched him work on Betty. Occasionally, I would ask a question but for the most part we sat in comfortable silence.
“I don’t know anything about you,” I blurt after a while.
He stops what he is doing and looks up at me, lifting one eyebrow in question.
“What?”
“I don’t know anything about you, only what I hear. If I am going to be spending a lot of time over here, I want to know that you aren’t some crazy psychopath that is going to kill me and wear my skin or something.”
He lets out a sound that is a mix between a laugh and a choke.
“That isn’t high on my to-do list, but I will keep the idea in mind. But that goes both ways. I don’t know anything about you either. For all I know you sabotaged your car as an excuse to get close to me and try to seduce me,” he smirks.
I gasp out a laugh before I huck a pillow at him. He dodges it chuckling before he re-focuses his attention on Betty.
“You wish,” I mutter.
I sit there for a few moments before speaking up again.
“Okay, let’s play question for a question then. I’ll go first.” I purse my lips and tap my finger on my chin considering my first question. “What is your favorite type of food?”
Dax barks out a surprised laugh. “Seriously? You want to get to know me to make sure that I am not a potential serial killer, and your first question is food oriented?”
I give him a very blank stare, my tone completely serious.
“Food is a very important subject.”
He shakes his head at me like I am crazy but indulges me by answering.
“Mexican, specifically the taco truck on main street. What about you?”
“Same. I could live on only street tacos and margaritas,” I joke.
“What’s your favorite color?” I ask next.
“Turquoise,” he says looking directly into my eyes.
I shift slightly trying to hide the blush that is creeping up my neck. Most people say my eyes are blue but if you really look you will notice that they are more like Turquoise. Though I have never met anyone that has ever commented on it. Then again, maybe I am reading too much into this and it is just a coincidence. Fuck. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“What do you want to be once you graduate?” He asks, obviously picking up on my uncomfortableness. I think about that for a moment before looking up to him with my completely honest answer in mind.
“Happy,” I say with a sharp nod.
He pauses for a second before nodding his head in agreement. I think it’s what everyone strives for, but only those who have felt like it wasn’t in the cards for you can really appreciate what it would mean to be truly happy in life.
“Why do you only do underground fights?” I ask. “From what I have seen you are pretty good, so why aren’t you competing? You could potentially have a real future in the UFC.”
His casual expression falls, and he turns away, apparently ignoring my question. I accept it, he doesn’t owe me anything. I just know that I am missing something here.
“I had a lot of anger issues as a kid, still do,” he says with a shrug. “My dad bailed when he found out my mom was pregnant, so he wasn’t in the picture and my poor mom was at her wits end with me. So, my uncle put me into some classes when I was 8 to keep me out of trouble.” He laughs softly as if remembering something.
“Anyways, I got really into it, got pretty good too. Then in high school Chase and I crashed a fight at the gym on a Friday night. I was a young punk that thought I could whoop anyone’s ass so when there was a last-minute drop out, I stepped in.” He shakes his head. “I got the shit kicked out of me. But that only made me more determined. It made me work harder, longer and come back more often until I was the best.” He pauses for a moment before continuing.
“I got so good that Cameron decided to train me my freshman year of college and set up a low-end league fight. I went in there and knocked my opponent to the ground in the first round. But when I am in there, and I am fighting, it’s hard to switch it off. To be giving everything you have and then just stop. It’s hard for me at least. I kept pounding the guy after the ref called knockout. When I was finally able to stop, he had to be rushed to the hospital and it took three security guys to get me off him,” he says with a wince.
“They took my win, and I got a warning. A month or so later, same issue. A couple months after that, I did it again. I try so damn hard when I am in there. I guess you could say it’s my therapy and I just kind of check out and go to a different head space. I became a liability, so I was put on suspension for three years. I guess to give you a short answer, I have self-control issues.”
He looks down at his hands for a moment as if recognizing what they are capable of for the first time. He flexes them and looks back up to me.
“I have already blown my shot at the big leagues. Even with my suspension ending soon, I doubt Cameron would work with me again. I brought a lot of negative attention not only to my own name but to the gym.
“Uncle Marcus has been killing himself at the bar for years now. I have tried to drop out of school to help him more, but he refuses to let me. So, I will probably take over a good amount of the work there when I graduate to give him the break that he deserves.”
“That is pretty noble of you,” I comment. “Giving up your dream for your uncle.”
Dax shrugs. “He was the closest thing to a father that I ever had. Besides, I am not totally giving up. I still get to fight on Fridays and train when I have free time. I have to keep fighting no matter what capacity that is in. I need to. I need it to breathe, to feel alive.”
My breath catches at his words. I can relate so much to how he feels. You don’t get it unless you are a fighter. The freedom and power you feel, not just over another person but over yourself. You feel like if you work your ass off and put your mind to something, you can do it, and no one can ever take that away from you.
“So, is all of that the real reason why your fight name is The Angel of Death?” I ask.
He gives me a rough nod before letting out a hollow laugh.
“Yeah, I mean, I am sure my tattoo didn’t help but at the time everyone was saying how fighting me was like taking on death itself. Like I was the fucking grim reaper.”
I nod my understanding and I pause before asking my next question “Do you think you have yourself under control now?”
He just shrugs. “It’s been three years. I am older now.”
“That doesn’t really change anything though,” I say dubiously.
“No, I guess not. I’m getting better, I think. I didn’t lose control with you,” he points out.
I scoff and shake my head. “Don’t act like you took it too easy on me. I know you held back but we both know that I out maneuvered you in the end.”
He shrugs. “You are a good fighter. Where did you train?”
I tense at his question before I will my body to relax as I pick at my nails casually.
“Back home.”
The room goes quiet for a moment and for a second, I think that he is going to drop it but of course he doesn’t.
“So, what are you running from then?”
“What makes you think I am running from anything?” I try for an unaffected tone, but even to my own ears it sounds anything but.
He cocks his head to the side and slightly narrows his eyes.
“Call it intuition.”
I hold my face in an expressionless stare as I contemplate how much I am going to give up.
“My past.”
He nods in acceptance and the game unofficially ends.
CHAPTER
TEN
AUBREY
I am working out at the gym late night Friday when Cameron comes strolling out of his office.
“Hey killer. We are getting started downstairs in a few. People will be rolling in soon. Why don’t you stick around?”
I shrug and nod, throwing one more hit to the heavy bag I was working over before I grab my stuff and head to the locker room. Since I am the only female member that they have ever had the gym only has one locker room, but fuck if I care.
I peel off my sweat drenched clothes before stepping into the shower. The water is lukewarm at best, so I decide to just worry about washing my body and getting out. As the water pours over me, I feel the faint sound of the door opening. Shit. Guess I am not alone anymore.
“Aubrey! What the fuck!” Dax snarls as he storms over to me. Shoving past me, he slams the shower off before throwing a towel at my face and spinning on his heel to look at the wall.
“Dude, what the fuck is your problem? I’m not done!” I snap as I wrap the towel around my body.
“Yes, you fucking are! The other guys will be down here any second and here you are taking a soapy shower in the middle of the room like the star of a fucking porno!” He snarls.
His fists are clenched at his sides while his body towers over me completely still and rigid. I snort a laugh at his bullshit and shake my head.
“Oh my god, just fuck off. All of you shower in front of each other all the time and in case you didn’t notice, these are the only showers in the damn building,” I say as I quickly dry off before slipping on my bra and panties and then a pair of grey sweats and a black t-shirt.
“Yeah, well you could have at least told someone that you were going to be in here so no one would walk in and see all of that.”
“Sorry, princess. I didn’t know that my body was so offensive to look at,” I scoff as I brush past him.
I only make it two steps before his hand grips my bicep tightly, yanking me back until my body slams against his. I try to pull away, but his grip only tightens. Sure, I could probably maneuver myself out of his hold somehow if I felt like I was actually in danger but like I have said before, Dax Hart doesn’t scare me.
His head dips down as his nose brushes against mine, his voice a rough grumble.
“Your body is a lot of things, but offensive is not one of the words I would use to describe it.”
I feel dizzy having his mouth so close to mine. A fog settles over my head suddenly making me unsure of where I even am right now. Why was I mad? I can’t even remember what we were fighting about.
“What words would you use?” I ask huskily.
His lips twitch just a bit at my question but the serious expression on his face remains as his head lowers another half an inch before his other hand just barely brushes the dip of my waist.
“Sinful, tempting…fucking perfect.”
My breath catches as his green eyes flare with intensity. He leans in just another inch, his lips only a hairs width away from mine when my brain begins to finally start working. What the fuck, Aubrey? Are you seriously about to let this womanizing douche come in here, end your shower, man handle you and then kiss you? Fuck that.
Quickly, I rip myself out of his grip and take several healthy steps back. Dax doesn’t move an inch, his body still hunched over like he is still bending over me. His head slowly turns to look at me, his face completely blank before he starts walking towards me until we are chest to chest.
Fuck. What the hell is he doing to me? I am screaming at my legs to run or my arms to push him or hit him, fucking anything. But I used up all of my energy in fleeing from him the first time. Now all I can focus on is the feel of his heavy heartbeat through his chest, beating in time with mine.
“Sounds like you are a bit of hypocrite then, huh? You had no problem watching me shower, you just didn’t want other people to see me like that, right?” I rasp.
Something dark passes across his face. I am not sure if it was my words or maybe a thought that was triggered from my words but either way the heavily tense moment evaporates into thin air. Dax takes two steps away from me before he turns around and storms out of the locker room.
Breathing out a deep sigh of relief, I count my stars that what I said pushed him away. I don’t know how much longer either of us would have lasted. What the hell was that? Shaking my head, I grab all of my stuff before I jog out of the locker room, doing my best to push that weird ass interaction as far away from my head as possible.
I dump my stuff inside Cameron’s office so that no one tries to steal my shit before I head down to the basement where a decent sized crowd is already gathered. I catch Blake’s eye as he plays bouncer at the side door that opens to the parking lot where everyone is paying their cover charge. He gives me a friendly smile and a head nod as he ushers in the next group of people. I give him a small wave before I slowly make my way through the room.
In the front row of metal folding chairs, I see a few guys I spar with taking up a majority of the row. When Cane sees me coming over he nudges the guy next to him to move over a seat before gesturing for me to sit. I give them a nod in appreciation before I take the seat.
Josh comes up behind me, his breath already reeking of stale beer as he slumps over my shoulder and giggles. I shit you not, the man giggles.
“Aubrey! You never hangout with us on Fridays! To what do we owe this great pleasure?”
“No work tonight and my workout ran late,” I smirk as I watch him drunikly try to stand up straight.
“You on the card tonight?” He slurs.
I shake my head with a small laugh causing him to pout.
“Damn. I was hoping to make some cash. I’d bet my whole fucking paycheck on you. All these dumb kids that come here have no clue what a badass you are. They’d all bet against you and then I’d make so much fucking dough.”
I laugh as I watch him stumble into a seat. “Maybe another time.”
He continues to pout but nods before he turns to one of the other guys and starts rambling on about God knows what. Cane and I talk for a little while until the lights start to flicker before heavy metal music starts booming through the room. Soon, Dax emerges from the locker room and jumps up into the makeshift octagon that is in the middle of the room.
I have been to some nasty underground fights before, but this place is one of the better ones. It doesn’t smell too awful down here and seems relatively clean. The octagon has a newish mat on the ground and a 7ft cage surrounding it. Dax bounces on his toes a little bit while Chase and Blake stand behind him, rubbing his shoulders and pumping him up.
A few more seconds go by before the song changes to Stronger by Kanye West and a young guy with a red mohawk comes out. I scoff at the song choice because a walk out song should tell you everything you need to know about a fighter, and I don’t know if he could have made a lamer choice. I would be shocked if the guy is even 18, he looks younger. He is also looking awfully smug for someone without a lot of muscle or definition.
