Chapter Nine

Ryder

E ach month, on the first Friday, I stepped into the grimy blood and sweat-soaked ring at Carnage, wearing my mask and preparing for the underground league's brawl. I knew once I arrived, I'd be tempted to fight like many of my opponents, cold and merciless. In a weird way, I liked battling my demons. This constant restlessness was the part of me few people knew about apart from my shiny stage demeanor in the pros.

Down here, in the grime and grit of the city, beating that animal urge made me feel alive.

I also fought Carnage matches because I was still a free agent. I couldn't lie, though. Not much else compared to facing down an opponent with all the odds stacked against me.

And tonight, this guy the underground promoters had me up against didn't disappoint. I balled my fists as I took a left fighting stance in the caged ring. I might be feeling the bruises tomorrow, but if I took him down, the rush would stay with me.

At least until next month's brawl. Or until I saw Ava again.

My thoughts ran to her, making me feel a pull to heaven followed by a hard tug to my gut lurching me back down to the cold, hard earth. She told it to me straight with a dead serious face. She was done with what we had. Finished. And as much as it hurt to call quits on what developed between us, I respected her. Her drive, ambition, work ethic. I'd give her the space she wanted to do her job.

But damn, I wish we could both do our jobs and be together. Was it as impossible as she made it seem?

I was too stuck in my head, and I didn't see the left hook coming at me from my opponent. He clipped me good, and I reeled, dizzy from the hit. The crowd cheered him on to hit me again.

I got it together and parried before he could land another strike. I charged at him with a flying knee. He blocked my attack and jumped back, but not before delivering an aerial kick of his own. I witnessed his spin before the flat of his heel caught me in the chest. Down I went, stomach first, onto the mat.

The crowd roared with pleasure. Here comes the blood, they probably thought. Sorry, but I wasn't about to take the fall to give them what they wanted. I heard another shout among the crowd of mostly guys. This shout was higher. A woman's, but she didn't sound eager like the others for me to get the takedown.

As I turned, I glimpsed a tall, slim figure huddled off to the side. She was wearing a baseball cap, although I recognized the soft profile of her brown face and long neck. What was Ava doing here?

"Get up." Her frantic shout spurred my body to move and push past the pain.

Other feelings rushed inside me as the dizziness faded. I didn't share this part of myself with Ava yet, and now I regretted the hell out of it. Did she even know who she was cheering on?

The crowd cheered on my opponent. Time to disappoint.

I gathered myself and scrambled to my feet before he could get a submission hold on me from the ground. He tried to rush at me. I dodged his next jab.

The missed punch flew in the air. I took advantage of his lack of focus and imbalance to end the match with a hard uppercut to his chin. I heard the force of air push from his lungs before he fell at my feet.

I stepped back and waited for the ref to start the count. "Ten...nine...." While the crowd chanted along, I scanned past the shadows of the cage for Ava. She was gone.

"Three...two...one...match over. Your winner, the Phantom Titan."

I barely heard the crowd cheer as my stage name was declared the winner. I bolted through the now unlocked cage door in search of the woman who meant more than anything to me.

I sprinted past people, no doubt confused as to where the hell I was off too in such a hurry while they were cheering my victory. I burst through the dark hall outside the little arena. Was I too late? Did she leave already?

I whipped off my sweaty mask in the dingy, dim hall. Then I saw her up ahead.

"Ava."

She didn't stop walking. Did she hear me? "Ava."

Her steps slowed. Maybe she heard me after all. I caught up to her, less than five feet behind. She whipped around to look me in the eye. With my mask removed, sweat dripped down my face, along with a developing bruise from that mean left hook I took to the chest. I saw Ava's fingers reach out towards the injured area, only to stop mid-air. Concern in her face turned to a frown. "Dammit, Ryder, just who do you think you are?"

I drew in hard, heavy breaths. "You shouldn't be here. I didn't want you to see me like this."

"No kidding. You just wanted me to see the nice stuff so I could wrap it up in a pretty article and sell it to the world." Her jaw trembled right before she bit down on her lower lip to get it to stop. "Was all our time together outside the gym part of your act, too?"

"God, Ava, no." Her question hit harder than the last punch I took. "I need you to hear me."

"Talk fast." I heard the fierceness in her voice despite it shaking. "Because I don't know if I can handle this game."

I never felt so raw and laid bare in my life. "I didn't intend to mislead you. I was going to tell you."

"Yeah, well, you sure took your sweet time getting from the bedroom to this place."

I shook my head. "You know me better than that."

"Do I?" She put her hands on her hips. "You won the Fury Combat championship. What's this for?"

"A title means little without a contract. It's still in limbo, so I'm collecting all the cash I can get doing what comes best to me."

"You're more than an MMA fighter, Ryder."

Even in her anger, she had the sweetest soul. I didn't deserve her sweetness or any kind word from her lips. "Maybe I am, but those people in the audience don't give two you-know-whats. They're here for the fighting."

"They don't know you."

"Be honest. Did you come all the way back to Sunridge, Illinois because you were dying to write how I train service dogs in my free time?"

"Now who's doing the low blows?" She looked like she was on the verge of tears, and at that moment I wished my sorry ass had just stayed down in the ring rather than make her cry. "Of course your fighting spirit and charisma drew me in, but your love for dogs and service to others makes you a more interesting and caring person. At least, that's what I thought before this."

"It's not just about the money for me. It's about feeling alive." My shoulder sagged as my body finally started to take in the fact I'd just been in a fight. "Ava, I'm sorry. I wanted you to like me for me. I was hoping to open up to you about this and how I felt about you, but then we put the brakes on our relationship."

People were coming out of the basement arena. I motioned for Ava to join me outside. We slipped past Big Mickles, the ticket attendant/security near the front door. He gave a strange look at me and Ava but kept his mouth shut.

Once out of Carnage, Ava stood on the uneven sidewalk, shying away from the flickering neon light. "Are you saying you're a professional fighter who loses control in a ring?"

"I don't lose control. I fight to maintain it."

"Is what you're doing legal?"

"Yes, at least the matches I agree to. I fight here under the radar." I struggled to find words to better explain myself. "Things get hardcore at Carnage. Sometimes I like that. I didn't want you to know at first."

She shook her head with a sad laugh. "Was I just a PR job to make sure you looked squeaky clean?"

"No." I stepped closer, reaching out to take her hand. She put distance between us. "You mean a lot to me. I never thought I would –" I stopped short of saying fall in love . The unspoken statement knocked me off balance as I recognized the emotion for the first time. Ava would not hear me out if I told her. Would she? I looked deep into her copper brown eyes, searching for a way to make her understand. As I did, a question got in my head. "What are you doing here tonight? I didn't think you knew about the underground leagues."

"Why, because you didn't tell me?" Ava crossed her arms, glaring up at me. "It's my job to figure things out. I just never took you for a back-alley fighter."

Her words. She was too good with them. Or maybe I was just weak enough right now that they hit their mark. I felt my jaw tighten. "You didn't answer my question. You're here, so obviously, you want more than the nice, squeaky-clean stuff, too."

She straightened her already perfect posture. "What I want is to cover all my bases."

"Spoken like a can-do reporter. There's a lot you don't know about me."

"Clearly." Ava didn't step into the light, but she refused to back down. "Make me understand, because right now I'm questioning everything I thought I knew about you."

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling a knot coming up on the side of my head. "You wouldn't get it," I muttered.

"Try me."

Adrenaline from the fight now shifted to help me tell her what was going on inside. "Sometimes I feel like I'm just another assignment to you."

Anger and something more tender both flashed in her eyes. "If I only cared about my work, I wouldn't still be standing here."

I went on. "You and I connected beyond what we do for a living. Nothing compares to it. I don't think anything ever will." I gestured at Carnage. "But fighting has always been one of the few things that kept me feeling alive."

In an action I didn't see coming, Ava reached out and gently touched my arm. "Ryder, underground fighting isn't the answer. It's too dangerous."

I shook my head, a spark of defiance coursing through me. "Until my signature's on a contract, I'm free to do what I please."

She dropped her hand. "Even if it permanently injures you?"

I had no answer, even though I knew she was right. I kept my face blank. "We all take risks. I took one with you, and it got to me more than this ever will."

AVA

THE GROUND SHIFTED beneath my feet. This was not the Ryder I thought I knew - the charming, passionate man who had intrigued me from the moment we met. The man standing before me now was more complex, hurt in ways beyond his surface injuries, and had a sharp edge or two.

He wasn't the only one standing on this sidewalk who had baggage. I had some rough parts to me, too, but not rough enough to understand why he was doing this to himself.

And certainly not tough enough to keep arguing with a man whose mind was already made up.

"Is this it?" I was unable to keep the hurt from my voice. "You'll risk throwing everything you worked so hard for away for these fights?"

"Ava, I got respect for you, but I don't need your pity or your judgment. I'm doing what I want."

He rejected my attempts at understanding. It felt like he rejected me, too. I stood frozen as a crowd shuffled out of Carnage, the pulsing music matching the pounding in my ears. Ryder got his mask back on before they could see him. My shoulders slumped in defeat.

"You're right. It's your life. Do what you want with it."

I turned and walked away before he could see the tears stinging my eyes. The chilly night air washed over me, but it couldn't cool the frustration and hurt burning inside. I had tried to understand Ryder, and I failed. Now I could only walk away and wonder if I had ever really known him at all.

I got in my car and drove out of the seedy district of town. I broke the speed limit a couple of times, trying to put as much distance between myself, Carnage, and Ryder, as possible. I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was nearly midnight, but the city still pulsed with energy. Groups of people spilled out of bars and clubs, their laughter echoing down the sidewalks. The lights of downtown gleamed and glittered.

I inhaled deeply, trying to clear my mind. But I couldn't stop replaying our argument. I saw again the defiant set of Ryder's jaw as he refused to listen. Should I have tried to understand his side more? I prided myself on my investigative skills, but I had to admit, I didn't comprehend Ryder's motivations. We were two entirely different kinds of fighters.

I observed it all as I drove. The truth was, I cared about Ryder far more than I wanted to admit. Somewhere along the line, I'd stopped seeing him as just a story and had let myself get drawn into the fantasy of what might be.

I motioned my head side to side and laughed softly, a bitter edge to it. The argument. The doubts. The realization I'd fallen for him, despite my better judgment.

Professionalism, or passion?

Safety, or the risk of being hurt again?

I got to my hotel room, where I curled up on the couch for a late night flick. My phone rang. I stilled, thinking for a moment it could be Ryder. Then I glanced at the screen and saw my editor's name on the display. I winced. He didn't have to call me. I knew I was already behind on my deadline. "Mr. Crawford. Hey."

"Ava, you were supposed to have an update for me yesterday. The network is getting impatient. What's going on?"

I scrambled for an excuse. "I've hit a bit of a roadblock. The story took an unexpected turn and it's throwing me off. The good news is, I just need a couple more days to work through it."

Silence from the elderly editor. Then a heavy sigh. "You know I can't keep stalling the higher ups forever, but I'll see what I can do. Take the rest of the week if you have to. It's the best I can give you."

"Thank you, I really appreciate it." Relief flooded through me.

"Just get it done, Ava. I'm counting on you here." Mr. Crawford hung up, leaving me with a mix of gratitude and guilt.

A few more days with Ryder, that's all I needed. For the story. Not to figure out where we stood and what came next. The answer had to be nowhere. Even if I tended to waffle on the subject, Ryder already made it clear tonight.