Smash_ A Stepbrother MMA Romance(62)

That was what he did to me. He made me forget what I wanted, replaced it with something else. Because for the past few weeks, ever since he had come home, what I really wanted was him. Not a divorce, nothing like that. Just him.

Eventually I found myself wandering into the parking structure outside Cindy’s workplace. I checked my watch: five minutes early. I quickly found the spot and leaned up against a pillar, waiting.

Madison was right on time. She walked out of the elevators and over toward me, her heels clacking on the concrete. Her face was hard and serious. There were only a few cars parked near us, which meant the place had an eerie, empty feeling.

Exactly what I wanted.

“Hello, Madison,” I said sweetly.

“What do you want?” she snapped.

I smiled and relished in her discomfort. “I wanted to talk to you about our little problem.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I laughed and shook my head. “Come on, Madison, really? Denial? That’s pretty weak.”

She looked flustered, frowning. “I’m, well, I just, I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Blackmail is serious, Madison. It’s a crime. You can go to jail for this.”

I actually wasn’t sure if that was right or not, but I didn’t care. The threat of jail had the desired effect, though. Madison looked even more agitated, even more confused.

“What do you want from me?” she said.

“I want you to stop. I want you to destroy the pictures you bought from Marla, and I want you to leave me and Cole alone.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said again.

“Marla, the waitress. We met her, you know. She told us that it was you who paid for the pictures.”

“Marla,” she whispered.

“Yes, Madison. We found her, and she told us everything. We have it all on tape. I’ve giving you an out here, letting you make up for the pain you’ve already caused. If you destroy the images and back off, we won’t go to the police with what we know.”

As I spoke, Madison’s face slowly drained of all color.

“Marla has proof, you know—emails from you.” I was bluffing, but I figured that was probably true.

And it paid off, because as soon as I said that she had emails, Madison burst out into tears.

I gaped at her as she stood there and sobbed. I had no clue what to do. She was my blackmailer and I wanted to hurt her, but I felt terrible that this poor girl was sobbing like an idiot in public.

“Okay,” I said awkwardly. “Please stop crying.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. It wasn’t my idea.” She was sobbing, and I could barely understand her.

“Okay, wow, you have to calm down,” I said.

“Please don’t send me to jail.”

It was almost funny. This girl had caused me so much stress and pain, so much worry, and there she was crying her eyes out like a child, blubbering about jail. All I had needed to do was threaten her a little bit, bluff a little bit, and she totally broke.

Which was actually strange. If she were blackmailing me, you’d think she would have prepared herself for this. And yet there she was, sobbing into her hands.

“Okay,” I said, reaching into my bag. “Here, take these.” I handed her some tissues.

She took them and blew her nose. “Thanks.”

“You’re not going to jail. Please calm down.”

She took deep breaths, tears running down her face. “I’m not?”

“If you stop crying you won’t.”

She nodded, visibly trying to pull herself together. I stood there watching, totally baffled, as she slowly stopped sobbing.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

“It wasn’t my fault,” she said. “It really wasn’t.”

I sighed. “Okay, Madison. Who was it then?”

“My boyfriend, Trent Hanger.”

I recognized the name, but it took a second before it really sank in. When it did, though, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Trent was the name of Cole’s big nemesis, the same guy he was going to be fighting soon.

I gaped at her. “Did you say Trent?”

“Yes,” she sniffled.

“MMA fighter Trent?”

She nodded, dabbing at her eyes.

I shook my head, completely mystified. “Tell me everything. And start with how the fuck you know Trent.”

Slowly she began to talk, and she told me the most improbable story I had ever heard in my life.

Madison used to work for Ultimate Fighter Championship, or UFC, the most famous MMA league in the United States. She lived in Las Vegas back then and was working her way up in the company as a member of the public relations group.