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  THE FIGHTER ROMANCE SERIES – BOOK 5

  By Alycia Taylor

  Copyright 2015. All rights reserved.

  Get Future New Releases In This Series For 99 Cents

  Read Part 1 - Pulse (The Fighter Romance Series - Book #1)

  Read Part 2 - Entice (The Fighter Romance Series - Book #2)

  Read Part 3 - Clash (The Fighter Romance Series - Book #3)

  Read Part 4 - Crash (The Fighter Romance Series - Book #4)

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Over an hour after Mitch had attacked and beaten Paul with a tire iron, and the police had shoved Paul’s face into the pavement like he was a common criminal, I was still pacing the parking lot of the Chevron station and Paul was still in the back of the squad car in handcuffs. The police were interviewing people, but they didn’t seem to be in any kind of hurry about it. They spent a lot of time on their phones too. I wondered if it was about the incident or if they were tracking down their ex-girlfriends like Mitch always was.

  I could see Paul every once in a while looking out the window of the car. He looked pissed and scared. He was probably wondering what would happen to his sister and his nephew if they believed Mitch over him and hauled him off to jail. It was killing me that I couldn’t go over to him. It was killing me that just because Mitch had a badge like these other guys that he was automatically assumed to be the victim here. For the first time I wished that I still had the bruises on my face that Mitch had put there so I could show them what kind of a “victim” the son of a bitch really was.

  My patience was really growing thin. “Hey!” I called out to one of the officers. “Are they going to let us get out of here any time soon?”

  The cop looked down at his notepad. “What was your name again?”

  “Jessie Cooper,” I said. I had spoken to this guy at least three times. What the hell?

  “Yeah, we got your statement here. You’re free to go. We have all of your information if we need to contact you…”

  “No! I came with Paul. I’m leaving with him.” I was so frustrated that my voice was shaking and I was on the verge of tears.

  The cop looked annoyed with me and said, “Well then, you might be in for a bit of a wait. We might have to take him into the station…”

  “For what? Why would you need to do that? Look at him and look at Mitch, that’s all it will take to see which one was wielding a weapon. Paul was defending himself. We came here to get gas and that creep followed us. I’m sure none of the witnesses you interviewed have told you anything different. That maniac Mitch came at him with a tire iron. Thank God Paul knows how to fight or you might be working a homicide right now.” The cop stood there with his neutral cop expression and when I finished my rant, he calmly walked inside the store. “Damn it!” I had to let my inner voice yell and cuss to keep my outer one from getting me arrested.

  “I told them I saw the big ugly guy come at the other one with a pipe or something.” A young guy wearing dirty army fatigues was sitting on the sidewalk a few feet from me. I hadn’t even noticed him until he spoke. He had a three or four day’s growth of beard and his hair was dirty and hung down across his shoulders. His teeth looked like he hadn’t seen a dentist in a while and his fingernails were black. I assumed he was a homeless man.

  “Thank you,” I told him.

  “Sure,” he said with a shrug. “It’s what happened. They should check the tape though…”

  “Shit!” I looked up where the guy was pointing behind us. There was a surveillance camera mounted up there and it was pointing at the gas pumps. “I didn’t even think of that.” If the guy hadn’t been so dirty…or smelled so bad, I may have kissed him.

  He grinned through his broken teeth and said, “I spend a lot of time around here and most of the time I try and avoid the camera…if you know what I mean.”

  I acted like I knew what he meant and I thanked him again and went into the store. The cop I had just talked to was at the counter talking to the clerk and looking at a laptop screen. I waited until there was a pause in the conversation and they looked up at me. Then, I said, “Excuse me…did you know that there’s a camera out there? It’s pointed right at the pumps.”

  The cop looked like he had a sarcastic retort on the tip of his tongue. He recovered quickly however and said, “Yes, we know.”

  Trying to resort to his humanism I said, “I know you’re getting irritated with me, but I don’t understand why you haven’t just watched it then and let Paul go home.”

  With a sigh he said, “Because it’s not quite that simple. The tapes aren’t stored here. They use a security company. We’re waiting for them to stream over the video. It really is okay if you go home. If he gets released, we’ll let him call you…”

  He was trying to get rid of me. Too bad. “I’m not leaving until he can go with me.” The officer looked overjoyed at the prospect of me leaving.

  I started to head back out to the parking lot when I heard the clerk say, “Here you go.” I turned and watched the annoyed cop’s face as he watched the tape. He rewound it a few times and then he used his radio to ask his partners to come inside. They brushed past me, giving me the same looks that the other officer did. They all seemed to wonder why I was still here. Is it unheard of to wait and see if your boyfriend was going to get arrested or not? The only one who seemed to believe me about Mitch was the first one who took my statement. He may have had a history of his own with Mitch, because he’d acted like he didn’t like him right off the bat. He’d gotten called away and left us in the hands of these guys who seemed more intent on protecting the thin blue line than us.

  They all watched the video, a couple of them pointing at it here and there. Then the clerk burned them a copy and when the one who had been so short with me turned around he said, “We’re going to let your boyfriend go now.”

  I literally bit the tip of my tongue. Telling him that was a brilliant deduction after shoving Paul’s face into the hot pavement and making him sit in handcuffs in the back of a police car for an hour and a half for nothing probably wasn’t a good idea. It was hard to stop myself though. I took a deep breath and instead, I smiled as sweetly as I could and said, “Thanks.”

  I watched as they pulled Paul out of the back of the car. One of the officers was talking to him as the other one took off his cuffs. I saw Paul shake his head “No” more than once. I wondered what they were asking him. I could see from six feet away that he looked like he was in pain. As soon as they released him, we needed to get him to the hospital.

  Finally they let him go and when he came towards me I finally lost my hold on the tears. I wrapped my arms around him and let them flow. I was so relieved that they’d let him go I forgot for a second how much pain he had to be in. I suddenly realized how stiff he felt in my arms and I let him go.

  “Shit! I’m sorry, Paul. I’m just so happy they let you go. Let’s get you to the hospital…”

  “No. Let’s go home,” he said.

  “Paul, you just got beat with a tire iron…”

  He grinned, “Yeah, I was there. It’s not something I’d ever like to do again, but I’m okay. I want to go home.”

  I followed him over to the car and tried to get in the driver’s seat. He pulled the keys out of his pocket and said, “Huh uh. I don’t trust you. I’m driving.”

  “What do you mean you don’t trust me?”

  “You’ll drive to the hospital. I’m fine Jessie, really.”

  That was exactly what I had planned, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. For his benefit, I
rolled my eyes. “Okay. No hospital. But let me drive please. You could have a concussion or something.” He finally relented and handed me the keys. I got in the driver’s seat and when Paul climbed in on the passenger side I watched him wince and suck in a breath. I bit my tongue again and started the car. When we pulled out onto the main road he said, “If you drive to the hospital, I’m not getting out of the car.”

  “What? I was going to flip a U.”

  “Right. Home Jessie, please take me home.”

  “You just look like you’re in so much pain…”

  “It hurts…like a son of a bitch. But everything’s moving like it’s supposed to be. I’m just going to be sore for a while. All the hospital will do is give me some pain pills after they make us wait for three hours. I already have some muscle relaxers I can take and I think I have a few pain pills left from when I tweaked my back.”

  “I have some pain pills left over too, but…are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” he said. He wasn’t leaving me any room for argument. I made the U turn and headed for his apartment. I noticed Paul was holding his seatbelt out away from his body especially when I slowed down or came to a stop. The seatbelt hurt mine really badly after Mitch beat me up. I hoped that his aren’t broken.

  “Are your ribs okay?”

  “Yeah,” he said, sounding breathless. “Just sore, nothing I can’t handle. I’ve been hurt worse than this after a cage fight. Fucking Mitch though, chicken-shit bastard couldn’t fight with his hands like a man…”

  “Unless he’s fighting a woman,” I said. Paul reached over and grabbed my hand. We drove the rest of the way in silence. When we got to his apartment I tried to help him out of the car.

  “I can do it, Jessie,” he said. He was getting like the cops now, annoyed with me. It was so hard for me to watch him move though. It had nearly killed me to watch Mitch beat on him with that tire iron and now to watch him try and move around in pain was killing me all over again.

  Once inside I went to the refrigerator and got out a bottle of water for him. I followed him into his room and sat down on the bed as he dug out the pain pills and muscle relaxers. He took one of each and gulped down half the bottle of water. He sat down too and after a few seconds he put his arm around my waist and lay back. I lay back with him, careful not to lean against his ribs.

  “You think they arrested him?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure they did,” Paul said. “Hopefully they’ll get a clue and keep him this time.”

  “In general population,” I said.

  Paul chuckled and then winced. “Don’t say anything funny for at least a week, okay?”

  “I’ll try,” I told him, “But I’m naturally a funny girl. It will be hard.” He smiled and pulled my head over onto his shoulder.

  Kissing me on top of it he said, “I hope a week is all it takes. I don’t have much time before the fight with Trent. I can’t be worried about protecting sore ribs. I have to win.”

  I didn’t say anything. I was pretty sure there was nothing I could say at this point to convince him to go to the hospital and I doubted he was going to be pain free in time to fight. That wasn’t what he wanted or needed to hear right now though, so I kept quiet.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I was able to convince Paul to take it easy for that one day. The day after I left him sleeping and went back to my apartment to get ready for work. I was just about to leave when he called.

  “Hey, why’d you leave without me?”

  “You were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you. I have to go to work.”

  “I know. I want to go with you.”

  “To the gym? No way!”

  “Really…Mom?”

  “Come on, I laid next to you most of the day yesterday and all night last night. Every time you move, you wince. Breathing looks painful. The last thing you need to do is work out.”

  “No it’s the first thing I need to do. You think I can lie around for a week and then beat a champion? You’re a trainer, you know better than that.”

  “You can’t beat him if you don’t take care of yourself…”

  “I’ll just see you there…”

  “Oh stop it! I’ll be right there, but I want it on the record that I object.”

  “Objection overruled,” he said. I hung up shaking my head. He was hot, sexy, kind, gentle…and stubborn as hell.

  He was waiting outside for me when I got to his apartment. He got into the car without making a face or sucking air, but I knew he was concentrating on being stoic just to get me off his back. As we drove to the gym I said, “Did you take your pain pills?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t take the muscle relaxants. I don’t want to fall asleep in the ring.”

  “Probably a good idea. Who are you working out with today?”

  “Sam…and you?”

  I was afraid he was going to say that. I usually didn’t mind helping him at all but I wasn’t sure how I was going to be able to handle watching him in pain. I didn’t say that though, he knew how I felt. “Okay,” I said. “What are you working on?”

  “Kick-boxing,” he said.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes,” he told me as we pulled into the lot in front of the gym. “Trent’s game is all wrestling. He won National division wrestling tournaments before he started cage fighting. I do not want to take this fight to the ground until it’s because he’s unconscious.”

  “Great,” I said, forcing a smile that we both knew was fake. We walked in together and as he headed for the back I said, “Go ahead and get started with Sam, I’m going to clock in and take care of some paperwork I’m behind on first.” He winked at me and in spite of myself I felt that twinge of lust in my nether regions. He was just so damned hot. I walked over to the counter and said, “Hi Victoria.”

  “Hey there,” she said. She glanced in Paul’s direction and said, “You two look cozy.”

  I could feel myself blush. “We’re doing alright.” It killed them all that I wouldn’t talk about my personal stuff like everyone else around here.

  She made a face and said, “Greg told me about that creep Mitch attacking Paul yesterday. I can’t believe what he did to you wasn’t enough to keep him in jail. Paul looks okay though, that’s good.”

  “Yeah, he looks good. He wouldn’t go to the hospital though so who knows? As far as the cops go, I don’t know why they don’t want to admit there could be a bad seed in their midst. I think they want to keep trying to give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s a cop. It’s ridiculous. Hopefully they’ll keep him this time.”

  “I hope so too,” she said. I went into the back office and took care of some billing I needed to do for my private clients. I was really appreciative of my amazing bosses lately. The drama of my life…or Mom’s and Paul’s lives had gotten in the way of work a lot. When I finished, I left the invoices for Greg to sign and then I headed for the back where Paul and Sam were. Sam had him on the bag instead of in the ring. That made me feel better. The bag wasn’t going to fight back and accidentally kick him in the sore ribs. I stood back and watched for a minute. As I walked in he was moving his right leg around in a roundhouse. His form was off a little…I thought it had to be because of the pain. When he connected with the bag I saw him wince and heard a little “Oomph!”

  I went over closer and said, “Hey, are you doing okay?”

  He was sweating more than usual for what would normally be a light work-out for him, but he said, “Yep, I’m fine.” I didn’t say anything; I just stood back and watched him and Sam for a few minutes. After the kick he dropped to his feet with another strangled sound but he kept moving. He moved in close to the bag and pulled back his right arm for a roundhouse punch.

  “Tuck your chin,” Sam told him. Paul did and then he unleashed a flurry of roundhouse punches onto the bag. His form was good, but every time his fist connected with the bag, he would suck in a breath between his teeth. He was in a lot of pain whether he would admit it or not. “A
rc it!” Sam told him. “Fist to shoulder, make it hard for him to block.”

  “Watch the other hand too,” I told him. “Use it to block your junk because he’s coming in with a front kick after a few of those punches connect.”

  He snorted and in a breathless voice he said, “You weren’t supposed to be funny.”

  “I was dead serious,” I told him.

  “My junk?”

  “We’re in mixed company, what should I call it…your package?”

  He laughed out loud that time and then said, “Shit! Stop Jess, it hurts.”

  “Why don’t you take a break,” I told him.

  “I’m alright,” he said. “I want to practice the spinning-back kick, Sam.”

  “Okay, slow motion one the first time. Step forward…you’re too far back; close in on your target. Now spin backwards so you’re facing away from him. At the same time look over your shoulder at your target, now lift your knee to your chest…yeah that’s it…higher….”

  “Fuck,” I heard Paul breathe out almost silently. Sweat was dripping off his forehead now. I started to tell him again that he should take a break, but he gave me a look that said it was a moot point. “Okay Sam, here it goes.”

  He repeated the steps and after he lifted his leg Sam told him, “Now drive the heel of your foot back into him. You want to aim for his gut.”

  Paul landed the kick in the center of the bag. He was thrown forward slightly and this time his strangled cry was an all-out cry. I winced and so did Sam.

  “Damn it Paul, take a break.”

  Through his still gritted teeth he said, “No.”

  I looked at Sam, rolled my eyes and said, “Good luck, I can’t watch this.”

  I grabbed my water and went out front. The gym was crowded and I needed some air so I went outside. I paced back and forth, frustrated. I wanted to kick Paul’s ass for being so damned stubborn. He should have gone to the hospital and he shouldn’t be here today. But hell if he’ll listen to me.

  “Hey there, who pissed in your cheerios?” It was Justin the marathon runner. I smiled at him and he said, “That’s better. You okay?”