Love Tap(75)

“Good fight Kiki.”

Her brows narrow, her lips pursed.

“You got lucky! I want a rematch, and when I do I’ll wipe the octagon with you,” she threatens.

“Anytime.” I smile, saluting her out of the ring.

My vision goes upside down, as Camden throws me over his shoulder and hauls me off the stage. The crowd cheers my name. My name!

I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face if I tried to.

Once behind stage there’s cameras and random people standing by my locker room. Camden sets me down, gripping my hand tightly.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Stay close.” He weaves us through the crowd, people yelling for me to sign this, or asking me questions on how I became an overnight success.

Once inside the locker room Camden turns and locks the doors. He swipes his hands through his hair, and eyes me wildly.

“You did it. You f*cking did it.” He smiles big. “I’ll admit you had me worried for a minute there.” He steps forward and cups my face, focusing on my eyebrow. “We should get that cleaned up and bandaged.”

A knock sounds at the door, and Camden strides toward it, opening it a crack before widening.

“I knew you had it in you,” Debs smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. I can’t help but roll my eyes as she starts to unwrap my hands.

“I’m going to go get the car and make sure it’s clear. Don’t let anyone in here Debs,” Camden informs, pointing sternly at her.

She doesn’t respond as she continues to take the wrap off my hands.

Silence fills the locker room, and I wonder if I should address what happened before the fight. A light rhythmic knock sounds at the door, and Debs nearly breaks her neck trying to get up.

“Camden said not to let anyone in,” I remind her.

“You will want to talk to this person Tate.” She looks over her shoulder, an unreadable look on her face as she opens the door.

The hall is miraculously cleared, and a tall clean cut woman steps in. She’s wearing a black dress with killer heels, her hair as perfect as her face.

“Who are you?” I scrunch my face in question.

She smiles a bleached grin, and perfectly manicured brow arching. “I’m Silvia Machen, the CEO of MFC, and I have a proposition for you Tate.”

My gaze flicks to Debs, and she nods approvingly.

“Um, okay,” I mutter unsure.

“I’m in charge of potential fighters in the MFC, bringing them the best of the fighters around the world,” Silvia informs, pacing in front of the door. My heart skips a beat, thinking she wants me to fight for the MFC.

“You are familiar with the MFC right?”

“Of course, I watch most of their fights since I was a kid.”

She stops, a villainous smile crossing her face.

“What if I told you, that those fights you watch on your television isn’t where the excitement breeds from, that it’s not the most profitable fight there is?”

“I’d say I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I chuckle. The conversation feeling out of sorts.

“I’m saying I have an underground octagon—”

“Underground?” I interrupt.

“It is black-market if you have to put a label on it. High profile celebrities and politicians seek entertainment and are often judged for it, but my underground gives them that forbidden desire without the public eye criticizing them, and in return for disclosure they pay a hefty price. This bringing my fighters a bigger payout than the MFC you see on TV can offer.” Her calculated voice echoes through the room as she stops in front of me, her hands clasped in front of her. Money, the root of all evil, everyone needs it. I could use it to get my dad out of debt, for myself as I set forth my fighting career.

“I’d say I’m listening,” I state, the words leaving my mouth cause goosebumps to race along my arms.

She cups my shoulders, and I look her in the eye.

“I want you to fight in my underground ring. If you accept I will pay you fifty thousand for just participating, and another million if you win.” I open my mouth to call bullshit but she continues speaking, halting the sentence sitting on my lips. “If you win, I will set up a contract for you to fight for the MFC. You will become a professional fighter Tate, just like you’ve always wanted.” She smiles, standing up straight. This seems too good to be true. Money, fame, to be at the top so quickly just for a black market fight.

“What is the catch?” I raise a brow and she laughs.

“She’s a smart girl.” Silvia glances at Debs, who is eating every word Silvia is spewing. “There is some fine print.”

“Such as?”

“Such as, you won’t know who your opponent is, and the rules of the cage are different from the ones ran by the sports committee in the MFC. There are no rounds, no times outs, and you’ll go until someone is knocked out or taps out.”

I nod, letting the info set in.

“We can dwell on semantics after you accept. However, there is one thing I need to make very clear.”

“What is that?”

“Nobody can know about The Underground, or this offer. Do. You. Under. Stand?” Her words are sharp, grabbing my attention from trying to process everything to focus on her. “The high profiles that attend these underground fights will not take lightly that of someone trying to take their secured entertainment away.”