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Smash_ A Stepbrother MMA Romance(64)

By:B. B. Hamel


It was a bloody frenzy, a terrifying frenzy, and I loved it.

But because of that, I had to prepare myself. The weeks leading up to a fight were spent training my body, but also my mind. I would meditate on the fight, watch film of the guy I was going to be up against, prepare my strategy. I would plan and think and try to keep myself in the right frame of mind.

Since the Trent fight was coming up fast, I had to do all of my intensive preparations that much faster. I hated to rush everything, but I had no other choice. My only solace was knowing that Trent was rushing his preparations. More than that, he didn’t have any film of me fighting, while I had film of every one of Trent’s matches since I was last in the ring with him.

And he had gotten much, much stronger since then.

I remembered a relatively weak guy that was prone to fits of rage. He used to love to stand up and throw punches. But the guy Trent had turned into was much more lethal, much more controlled. He didn’t lose his temper a single time, and he picked his opponents apart with smart and well-timed attacks.

He’d gotten a lot better, but so had I. Back before I left for Thailand, I was known as a Judo fighter, a submission guy. I was good at getting my opponents onto the ground and getting them into submission holds, forcing them to give up before I broke their bones or choked them out.

In Thailand, though, I had gotten much stronger. Muay Thai fighting was all about throwing punches and kicks. Trent knew the sort of stuff I’d learned over there, but he had never actually watched me practice it. As far as he knew, I was still that same Judo guy he remembered.

That fact changed my game plan. That plus a hundred other factors went into my planning and made my head spin.

Which was why I didn’t even notice when Alexa walked down into the basement. I was too deep in my own head, envisioning the fight, going over my moves, as I finished my sit-up reps.

“Hey,” she said, yanking me out of my daze.

I looked up at her. She was sitting on the bench press machine, her legs crossed. She was leaning back on her hands, making her breasts jut out from her chest. I couldn’t help but look up and down at her body.

I hadn’t seen her much in the last two days. As far as I knew, it was Tuesday, but I wasn’t keeping good track.

“Are you busy?” she asked.

“Nah. Just finished.” I stood up and walked over to my bag, grabbing my towel.

“How’s it going?”

I shrugged. “About as good as it can.”

“What do you mean?”

“Fight’s on short notice, but I’ll be ready.”

“How long do you usually get?”

“Months, at least.”

“Wow.” She paused and sat forward, looking away. “Maybe this isn’t a good time.”

I could tell she had something she wanted to say, but clearly it was a little uncomfortable for her. I realized I’d probably been neglecting her and our little blackmail issue.

“Now is a good time.” I wiped the towel across my brow and leaned up against the wall across from her.

“It’s about Madison.”

“The assistant.”

She nodded. “I went and saw her.”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. I had planned on dealing with that, but my workouts and preparation had gotten intense, and it had slipped my mind.

Still, I hadn’t expected her to go and talk to the girl herself. “What happened?”

“Well, your mom wanted to have lunch with me, so I used that as an excuse.”

“Cindy did?”

“Yeah. Something about wanting to be a family?”

I laughed, grinning at her. “We’re a pretty close family already.”

She blushed. “Yeah, well, she doesn’t need to know that.”

“So how did it go?”

“Lunch was fine, I guess.”

I smirked at her. “I mean with the assistant.”

“Oh.” She paused, her discomfort growing. I wanted her to spit it out, but I decided to let her take her time. I didn’t want to spook her or something.

“Well,” she said, speaking slowly, “I found out some pretty interesting stuff.”

“Do tell.”

“First of all, she’s not really our problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, she paid for the pictures and everything, but she’s not really the one blackmailing us.”

I let out an annoyed breath. This whole thing had been a long lesson in failure. We’d been so sure at least two other times that we’d had the culprit, and now I was finding out that we had hit another dead end?

“But I know who it is,” she said quickly, probably sensing my anger.

“You sure? Or is this just going to lead to ten more people?”