The Fighter’s Block: Cole, Book Two Read online

  Cole shrugged with a guilty smile. “I get busy.”

  “Busy my ass!” Mickey scoffed. “You have time to pick up a phone and leave a five second message. Don’t give me that shit.”

  Cole studied the old man for a few seconds, and because he could read him pretty well, he knew that Mickey wasn’t truly mad but just concerned. He didn’t know how to react to that. He wasn’t used to having people care a single thing about him.

  He’d never been around anyone long enough to matter.

  “I’ll do better next time,” he answered with a tiny nod of agreement.

  “You sure as hell better!” Mickey growled at him. He was heading for the office when he added, “Good to see you back,” over his shoulder.

  Cole faced Cody in the cage and took up a stance to begin. But Cody remained standing loosely, not ready to battle yet. His eyes were narrowed but there was a tiny, suspicious smirk on his lips that made Cole curious.

  “What?” Cole finally asked.

  Cody shrugged. “I don’t know. Still trying to figure you out, man. Why is that?”

  “Why is what?”

  “Why are you such a mystery? I’ve known you for over a year now and I still barely know a fucking thing about you. Come on, give me something. Anything. I’ll keep it to myself if you want. Just tell me something about you, John,” he seemed to tease.

  “Don’t call me that,” Cole replied, shaking his head.

  “Why? That’s your full name, right? John Colby Nicholson. I saw it on your mail.”

  With a sigh, Cole stared at the floor. “You wanna spar or not?”

  Silence. He could feel Cody’s gaze on him for several seconds but he wasn’t willing to make eye contact right now. It was happening again and he couldn’t help it. The voices and the memories were resurfacing, just by the mention of his first name. He could hear his father calling him “Johnny.” He’d always gone by that name until he joined Mickey’s gym—when his father had put “Cole” on all of his paperwork and everyone at the Divehouse called him that. It took a while to get used to.

  He looked up when Cody’s movement caught his attention. After doing a quick squat stretch and popping up with a few bounces, Cody motioned with his chin. “You ready or what.”

  “Always ready,” he answered indifferently.

  But now he had to focus extra hard so his inner demons didn’t completely kick Cody’s ass.

  ***

  Cole wasn’t big on chitchat with other people. He also wasn’t too keen on sharing much of his life, obviously. But when it came to Mickey Tate, the man had a way of scratching away the surface just enough to make him feel slightly exposed.

  And sometimes the old man didn’t even have to say anything for it to happen.

  He’d been sitting in Mickey’s office for a couple of minutes now, silent so far. His session with Cody had gone well and he’d managed to leave the guy in one piece, so that was a tiny feat he could check off his list. It wasn’t like he wanted to hurt anyone on purpose, but there was a side of him that he really had to keep under control so he didn’t destroy someone accidentally.

  “So?” Mickey finally asked again. “You gonna answer me or just sit there?”

  Cole finally looked up at the pale blue eyes boring a hole through him, but still didn’t answer. He was a grown ass man and could have marched himself out of the gym and into his truck the second Mickey invited him into his office. But he felt there was something extremely disrespectful about that and Cole couldn’t do it.

  With a heavy sigh, Mickey adjusted his position where he sat in his office chair. “You know I try not to be invasive,” he said. “I’ve known you for a lot of years, Cole, and I know you keep yourself under lock and key. But answer me this. I see you here, working harder than anyone I know, and you are very capable of taking a title one of these days. What I see in you is what I see in Van; that can’t be trained. You’re a natural. You have what it takes. Now answer the goddamn question. Why won’t you compete in a real match? Why are you only willing to spar here at the gym and not against an actual opponent?”

  Again Cole remained silent. Only Mickey would have the balls to be so persistent like that, but it didn’t mean it required an answer.

  “You were first here in my gym fourteen years ago,” Mickey continued. “You were a fourteen-year-old kid with a big smile and the most positive attitude of any teenager I ever seen. You reeked of potential. You were dedicated. You soaked up everything I taught you like a fucking sponge.” He paused and leaned forward in his chair. “And then one day you didn’t show up. And the day after that. And the day after that…

  “You disappeared, Cole, and I never saw you again until last year when you dropped in out of the blue. I was shocked as hell to see you again. I didn’t ask questions, just asked if you were okay and if life was treating you fine. You barely answered me then and you still won’t answer me now. All I got from you was that you were doing investigative work, and because Jack sent you here for Van’s case, we moved straight into that instead of where the hell you’d been for all those years. I never asked, and I might not ever ask, I’m not sure… But you’re here in my gym still and I’m a damn MMA coach that can’t stand to see your talent go to waste. Enlighten me. Why are you wasting your talent?”

  It was Cole’s turn to sigh, and he did so heavily. For some reason he truly did feel like he owed Mickey an explanation, but at the same time, felt like he didn’t have to say a damn thing. It was a ridiculous position to be in and he was having a hard time keeping the anxiety from resurfacing.

  But indifference was his specialty; a blank face and an unreadable mind were what he relied on. Talking about things of a personal nature would completely counter that coolness and he didn’t want that to happen, so Cole focused all of his concentration on keeping his game face.

  He’d never faltered before; he wasn’t about to start now.

  “I have some things in my past that I try not to think about,” he finally answered. “The memories resurface sometimes. I have to suppress them all the time, but there are certain things that trigger them. Being in an octagon is a trigger, and even though I’m aware of that, I love the sport too much to step away. Either that or I believe that I can fight through it and come out victorious in some miraculous way. I don’t know. I feel that I can overcome it, but sometimes I think I’m only fooling myself.”

  Mickey’s expression had never changed, but he continued to watch Cole for a bit like he was waiting for him to continue.

  Cole had nothing more to add.

  Finally Mickey sighed. “Well… All of that makes sense. Would it be asking too much for you to tell me where you went years ago?”

  After a brief pause, Cole shrugged. “My parents moved to central Oregon. My dad got a job offer out there suddenly—at least that’s what I was told—and we literally left the next day. Just like that,” Cole snapped his fingers. “I didn’t even say goodbye to any friends and didn’t even get to bring anything that belonged to me. I was pissed at them, to put it lightly.

  “When I was fifteen, my parents both died in a car accident. I was sent to live with my aunt that I barely knew. She and my mom weren’t that close—I had never even met Karen—but I moved to Los Angeles to stay with her.”

  Mickey’s eyes slightly narrowed. “Jesus, Cole,” he sighed. “I’m so very sorry, kid. About your parents. And what about after that? What happened to you?”

  Cole shrugged. “My aunt got me a job when I turned sixteen. A friend of hers owned a construction company. Residential stuff. It was okay. Was mostly just a ‘go-fer’ at first—fetching stuff, running errands, site cleanup. Then got into a bit more of the grunt labor. I was in good shape from the gym, so it worked out to be useful.”

  “So you continued to fight?” Mickey asked carefully. “By ‘gym’ I’m assuming an MMA outfit.”

  After a brief pause, Cole answered, “Yes. But I strayed from everything you taught me, Mickey. I fought because I w
as angry. And even though I was still successful with it, it took me to a state I shouldn’t have been in. I felt I was handling my anger, but I really wasn’t. Now, I can’t seem to pull myself out of going to that place when I’m matched against someone. I hurt a lot of people because of the state I was in. I don’t want that to happen anymore.”

  He watched for Mickey’s reaction, his ultimate disappointment, but didn’t get one. The old man was almost as good as he was with keeping a neutral face as he sat back in his chair for a few seconds while he absorbed the information. Cole was sure he’d let him down. The man’s very first lesson for any new fighter was: never let negative emotions take control of your fight.

  And he constantly reminded each fighter of that, over and over again, no matter how experienced they were.

  At last Mickey stood from his seat, slapped his thighs and said, “I’m having a barbecue at my house next Sunday afternoon. I expect you to be there.”

  He exited the office, leaving Cole sitting by himself with his own thoughts. With a tiny chuckle, he shook his head and rose from his chair. He positioned himself in the doorway and observed the gym that was busy with activity in every corner. Mickey was already across the room giving advice to pair that were sparring, and Cole had to admire the man’s ability to transition so easily.

  Or maybe he was just extremely disappointed in him and needed a chance to simmer down.

  Cole gathered his things and headed for the parking lot. He was about to unlock his truck after slipping into a hoodie, but he had an unmistakable feeling when his instincts started to kick in right then.

  Someone was watching him.

  He paused at the door for a moment, organizing his thoughts as quickly as he could for his next move. He decided to slide into his truck and took his time getting situated. Using all of his senses, he determined exactly where the set of eyes was coming from.

  He turned the key and put his truck in reverse. He backed onto the street and gunned it, driving backward for about fifty feet until he braked to an abrupt stop in front of a coffee shop on the corner. Sitting next to a window in the corner was one person he could never mistake with that fiery auburn hair.

  Scarlett.

  Chapter Six

  Scarlett held her breath as she specifically waited for Cole to react, but he only stared at her from his truck. How the hell he knew she was there watching him was beyond her comprehension.

  The guy was better than she thought, and she chastised herself for her lackadaisical surveillance.

  Then he pointed at her from his truck. Just pointed directly at her, and then pointed at the passenger’s seat next to him.

  He was instructing her to get her ass into his truck. What a demanding, over-confident prick.

  Well, it was too late to pretend she wasn’t in Jersey. Might as well make some progress somehow. She left her untouched coffee on the table and exited the café. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her the entire time she opened the door to his vehicle and sat down next to him.

  Seeing him again was making her feel the same way she’d felt back in Miami and it was uncomfortable. As she observed him, she took a moment to shelf the attraction she had for this guy. Ever since she’d opened that door back in Miami and saw him on the other side of it, she hadn’t been able to get him out of her head.

  Being in the middle of this task was obviously going to be a challenge.

  She made the decision to speak first since he apparently wasn’t going to. She could tell he didn’t need to; he was the type of guy that didn’t waste his breath on asking what the fuck she was doing in his city. He was still staring at her, waiting for an explanation, and she could read it on his face that she’d better just tell him.

  “Hi,” she finally said. “Remember me?”

  He arched an eyebrow in response, and had the circumstances not been so serious, she might have needed to change her panties.

  This guy was all sorts of sexy trouble.

  “Yes, I remember you,” he answered wryly.

  His eyes were watching her carefully, and even though he was looking straight at her, Scarlett knew that he had the ability to calculate anything else going on around him at the same time. The guy was not only observant, but she could tell he was sharp and ready for anything—despite his chill outer demeanor.

  “And?” he added as he waited for her to continue.

  She’d had this moment planned out in her head during the entire flight, but being in it for real was turning out to be more difficult. She now doubted she could pull this off.

  Taking a shallow breath of air, Scarlett asked, “Did Leah finally get to see her brother?”

  She didn’t look at Cole, but she could sense his suspicion. Either that or he was completely annoyed that she was beating around the bush.

  “You came all the way up here to ask if Leah saw her brother?” he asked evenly.

  The way he was so calm and collect drove Scarlett nuts. Did the guy not have any kind of emotion?

  “Tell me what’s going on, Scarlett. Why are you here? And what is your connection to Leah Kemp?”

  She made an attempt to look at him and tried to hold his gaze the same way he was holding hers. He seemed to have no problem making eye contact, and it was almost like that was his power over people.

  “Simple and to the point works best for me,” he added, now seeming impatient.

  “Fine,” she shrugged. “But it might make things more confusing.”

  “Try me.”

  Scarlett stared straight ahead through the windshield and took a deeper breath of air. “I just wanted to make sure she’s okay,” she spoke as she exhaled. “She’s just a kid; I know she’s been through a lot.”

  She chanced a glance at Cole again, thinking he’d be surprised or just…anything. But his expression was still the same.

  Completely blank.

  “Been through what?” he asked.

  “Look, I don’t know all the details,” she told him. “All I know is what I’ve gathered from observation and little things she’s told me. I’m not entirely sure what’s gone on in her life, but she seems like a decent kid.”

  “Why didn’t you just call her? I’m sure you have her number. And you’ve been spying on me. Why is that? What do you want?”

  She looked at him again, and even though her heart picked up it’s pace, she tried not to react much. She was making an attempt at appearing apathetic like Cole was good at doing, but it was challenging.

  “You’d better just be honest with me,” Cole told her. “It’s the only way I’m going to waste another second with you.”

  “You don’t care about Leah at all?” she scoffed with surprise. The guy had come all the way to Miami to find this girl and he didn’t even give a shit?

  “I barely know her,” he shrugged. “I promised a friend I’d help find her and I did. There’s nothing more to it.”

  Scarlett frowned, totally frustrated. This wasn’t what she expected. Who would spend time looking for someone and not care anything more about it? She thought for sure he would be the right one to go through.

  She’d been wrong.

  She reached for the door handle. “Never mind then,” she said. “I’ll find someone else.”

  A strong hand gripped her elbow to prevent her from leaving. “Hang on,” he commanded softly.

  God, how could a guy be so authoritative but so gentle at the same time? His hand held her firmly but it didn’t hurt; however, she knew she wouldn’t be able to leave unless he let go of her.

  “Find someone else for what? Tell me what’s going on,” Cole instructed.

  “Why?” she asked with narrowed eyes. “You don’t care anything about her so what makes you think I want to tell you?”

  “I said that I barely know her, not that I don’t care,” he corrected her, finally showing some emotion when he narrowed his eyes to match hers.

  “Well I thought you were close to her or her family or something to that effect,” Scar
lett clarified. “You told me you weren’t a cop. Either admit you were lying about it or let me go.” She had barely tracked him down as it was; Leah had only said his name was Cole. She felt she should have had more information than that, but that’s what this trip was supposed to be about…

  “I’m a private investigator,” he told her.

  She forced a laugh but her heart instantly dropped into her stomach. “Nice, so you lied to me and I’m supposed to trust you? No thanks.” She yanked her arm away, knowing she wasn’t going to be let go of unless he chose to let her go, but to her surprise, Cole released the grip on her elbow.

  “An investigator is not a cop,” he corrected her as she reached for the door handle again. “I told you the truth.”

  Scarlett paused instead of opening the door. An investigator. Well her initial suspicions were on the right track and that made more sense, especially now that he’d admitted to not even knowing Leah.

  But still, Leah had given her a different impression…

  Turning toward him she asked, “So you do stuff like that and get paid?”

  Cole didn’t answer at first, but eventually he nodded. “Yeah, usually.”

  “Usually? What does that mean?”

  “It means I never took money from her brother. He offered, I declined. It was a favor, I guess.”

  “Why did you owe him a favor?”

  Cole sighed. “I didn’t. What exactly are you here for?” he asked impatiently. “Get to the point and stop asking me questions. Is Leah in trouble?”

  Scarlett took a moment to decide on a response. Her personality was to keep arguing with him but for some reason, she knew better.

  “She said she had something important to take care of here, something that didn’t have anything to do with her brother,” she answered.

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know, exactly. It just sounded like something really dangerous or mysterious. I have no idea but I’m just worried about her. I offered to come with her but she wouldn’t let me. She’s being really secretive.”