Caged (Mastered, #4)(34)

Broken.

By the time he reached the living room, he no longer felt like he might throw up.

By the time he raced out of the room and reached the playground in front of the motel, he’d stopped shaking.

He’d been shaking so hard he hadn’t realized his cell phone had been vibrating in his back pocket.

The phone had kicked the caller over to voice mail.

Good. He needed a distraction. He waited to return the call until his voice wouldn’t betray him.

Deacon hit RETURN CALL, and the other line rang twice.

“Please tell me you’re on a plane back to Denver,” Maddox said instead of hello.

“Not yet.”

“Any idea when that will be?”

“Nope. There’s still a lot of stuff up in the air.”

“Is she glad you’re there?”

Deacon had asked Ronin if he should go. He said yes. So had Knox, and even Beck had told him to take off. The lone dissenter had been Maddox. “So far.”

“Are you glad you’re there?”

He grunted. “What do you think?”


“I think this is a bad time for you to take off from training and become your girlfriend’s counselor.”

“That’s why you called? Jesus, Mad, I’m not a f*cking idiot. It’s not like I’ll be gone a month. I’ll do what I can with cardio and strength training.”

“You also need to spar every day, Deacon.” He paused. “Speaking of sparring . . . guess who walked into the dojo today?”

“Dana White.”

Maddox snorted. “Micah Courey.”

Deacon froze. “No shit?”

“No shit.”

“What did he want?”

“To train here. Specifically, to train with me.”

Fuck. “What did you say?”

“I told him to come back in a few days after I brought it up with Ronin since he has final approval on adding new fighters to the program.”

Pacing in the gravel parking lot kicked up puffs of dust. “Is this your way of cutting me loose?”

“No.”

“Then why are you even considering taking on a champion in my weight division?”

“Nothing has been decided, and nothing will be until you get back here. But you can understand why I’d want that to be sooner rather than later.”

“I’ve been gone one f*cking day, Maddox.”

“Deacon. These next six weeks are crucial. You win the next fight against Needham and one of the big fight organizations will sign you. This is what you’ve been working toward.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he shot back. “Fuck. I know Micah Courey is a better bet than me. He’s already signed with Smackdown. He’s already proven himself.”

“Some say he’s already hit his peak. There are arguments for and against bringing him on board.”

Deacon didn’t have a vote since the Black Arts MMA program had become a separate entity from the dojo. As a jujitsu instructor, he had a say in the new hires. As a fighter . . . he kept his mouth shut and did what his trainer told him to do. “So you called to freak me out because I don’t have enough shit on my plate right now?”

“No. I called because I hadn’t heard from you and I was worried.”

“I’m eating my veggies, washing behind my ears, changing my underwear every day, and working out,” he snapped.

“Such a smart-ass. Which means you’re not okay. So for a second, you will suck it up as I step outside my role as your trainer and speak as your friend.”

Everything in Deacon seized up against advice he didn’t want and likely wouldn’t take. “Huh-uh, Maddox. You had your say one time where Molly was concerned, and it f*cked everything. I’m here because her grandma is dead, her relatives are *s, and she’s alone. I’ve been there, man. I know how much it sucks. I could have a title fight on the line tomorrow and I still wouldn’t walk away from her. I won’t ever walk away from her. She needs me, and I sure as f*ck need her.”

A soft gasp sounded behind him.

He whirled around. A white-faced Molly stood five feet away.

A pause. Then Maddox sighed. “I get it. I wish I didn’t, but I do. Take care. I need you back here no later than four days from now.”

“Understood.” Deacon hung up and pocketed his phone before he reached for Molly. “Hey. I tried not to wake you.”

“Did you mean what you said? About not walking away from me?”

“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“But . . .”

“What?”

“But I don’t want to distract you from your career, Deacon. Maddox already—”

“Maddox can suck it,” he said hotly. “I set you aside once before, and I ain’t gonna do it again. Period. Understand?”

“It’s so soon in our relationship! I didn’t think you—this—was serious.”

“I don’t do half-assed, babe. If we’re in this . . . we’re in this.” He stared into her eyes, trying to mask the worry in his own that his feelings were more one-sided than he liked. “So are you in or what?”

“I’m in. I’m so in.”