The Comeback: An MMA Romance Novel (Book Two) Page 6

  “We’ll stop at the next spot, but it’ll have to be fast.”

  “Okay, Daddy.”

  I found a rest stop and pulled into it. As Sam and I were piling out for the restroom, my phone rang. It was Morris.

  “Zane, what’s up?”

  “Not much.” I considered telling him where I was headed, but waited.

  “I just got the results from the commission,” he said.

  My heart sped up in an instant as I saw myself turning the car around and heading back to Erickson.

  “What’s the verdict,” I said in as casual a voice as I could muster.

  “You’re clean.”

  I let out a sigh of relief.

  “You expected to be clean didn’t you?” Morris asked.

  “Yeah, but I’ve got to be honest, I took some pills to help my back a week before the fight, but that’s all I took.”

  “Shit, I’m glad you came back clean then, Zane. You should have told me the night of the fight. You know I always got your back.”

  “Me too, and I know. Sorry I didn’t tell you. Guess where I am now.”

  “Sitting on your ugly couch,” Morris said with a laugh.

  “I’m at a rest stop on the way to Oklahoma City for the pre-fight press conference between Powers and Sherwood.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “Nope, I’m going to see if I can shake things up a little more. The clock is running out, and I’ve got a lot of money to make. UCC 145 is three weeks away, and it doesn’t look like I’ll get on the card, let alone fight Powers.”

  “You never know. Crazy shit happens in this industry.”

  “I hope you’re right, because Leeza and Lorenzo’s deadline is four weeks away.”

  “They’re still getting married?” Morris asked, “Figured with the way she’d been all over you they were off.”

  “Fuck that, Morris. I’m not getting with her again,” I said with more conviction than I felt.

  “That’s smart, Zane. Besides, you’ve got a damn good one in Elizabeth now. Good luck today.”

  We hung up, and I felt a hell of a lot lighter. Sam was already in the women’s bathroom, and I hustled in to the men’s to take a piss, one that I knew was one hundred percent clean, and then Sam and I were going to haul ass to Oklahoma City. It would be interesting seeing Powers, Sherwood, and his agent Lex McNeil in the flesh.

  Chapter 24

  If I would have known what kind of chaos my appearance at the press conference would have caused, I wouldn’t have taken Sam.

  We parked in the five-story garage next to the Bricktown Ballpark. The conference was being held in front of Coaches Sports Bar just outside of the stadium’s third base gate. I walked around the corner, hand in hand with Sam, and was hit by a throng of fans.

  It was five minutes past one, and there had to be 500 people packed around the makeshift stage. The crowd faced the stadium’s façade. The stage was sandwiched between the two. There were three rows of chairs, maybe 20 across, for what looked like media and VIPs. Everyone else stood, crammed up against the flimsy yellow rope that made a slight arc behind the chairs.

  Sam and I approached from the left. I planned on just easing into the mass of people from there and working my way as close to the chairs as possible. I got within ten steps of the crowd when an angry looking guy in a Tapout shirt, faded blue jeans, and snakeskin boots popped up from one of the chairs and headed my way. He had fire in his eyes.

  He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him. He was about my height, just over six feet tall, and probably had 30 pounds on me at around 230. His thin black beard didn’t hide his clenched jaw. I stopped and instinctively slipped in front of Sam. The guy looked pissed enough to punch me.

  He stopped a couple steps away. “What the fuck are you doing here, Zane?”

  “Watch your mouth in front of my daughter. And who the fuck are you anyway?”

  He glanced at my daughter and then back at me. “We’ve talked on the phone, and we’ve met before. I’m Lex McNeil.”

  It suddenly made sense.

  “Good to see you in person, Lex,” I said.

  “It’s not good to see you,” he replied. “This is bullshit you showing up here.”

  My temperature was rising. “No it’s not. I want to see the conference, and I’m tired of Powers running his big mouth over the internet.”

  “You need to fucking leave,” he said.

  “I told you to watch your mouth in front of my daughter,” I said while pointing at him. “And you don’t have the right to talk to me that way. You’d better move before I put you to sleep on the concrete.”

  I felt Sam’s little hand squeeze mine. She’d been around enough confrontation to know when things were escalating, and she hoped a squeeze would calm me down. It almost worked.

  “You’re threatening me?” he yelled. “This isn’t a cage, and I’m not a pussy!”

  For the first time I noticed the word Semper Fi tattooed on his right forearm, maybe because he was pointing right back at me, so I figured he wasn’t bluffing. But I didn’t really care. I just wanted to watch the damn press conference, and this dickhead was keeping me from it.

  “I’m not threatening you. I’m telling you that if you don’t move out of my way I’m going to beat your ass.”

  I started to walk around him. He slid in front of me. “You don’t even need to be here. Let’s get lunch afterward, on me, and we can talk when we’re calm,” he said.

  “I’m already here.” Again, I tried to walk around him, Sam still on my right hip.

  And again, he moved in front of me. Talk time was over. I brought my left hand up and shoved him hard in the chest. He stumbled to his left, and I started to pass.

  “Mother fucker,” he yelled.

  He started to yell something else, but I changed course and got right up in his face. I’d let go of Sam’s hand so she’d be out of the way. “Do something,” I said. “See where it gets you, bitch.”

  We were nose to nose. His right eye twitched a bit. He looked down with a disgusted look on his face. “You’re not worth it you piece of shit,” he said.

  “Then get out of me and my daughter’s way, now.”

  He backed up, then turned and walked back toward his seat.

  I heard someone yell from the crowd, “ZT, ZT,” and others chimed in. Pretty soon a ZT chant was heard throughout. I hadn’t noticed it before, but my little altercation with Lex McNeil had drawn the attention of the whole left side of the crowd.

  Just then, UCC president Nick Lewis entered from the opposite side of the stage. Jordan Powers and Jake Sherwood were right behind him. All three of them looked real confused when they heard the chant. Then it registered, and they all saw me at about the same time. Lewis looked amused. Powers and Sherwood looked like they both wanted to beat the hell out of me.

  I didn’t have trouble finding a spot right behind the seats. The fans made a path for me and continued to chant.

  Sam looked up at me. “This is fun,” she said.

  It kind of was.

  Chapter 25

  Nick Lewis adjusted the small microphone and stared out at the crowd through his ice blue eyes. His peppered hair made it obvious that he was pushing 50 years old. His stature wasn’t formidable, but he had a way of using those eyes to command respect. “Alright, welcome to the pre-fight press conference for UCC 145 here at Oklahoma City’s Chesapeake Energy Arena. The main event will feature the gentlemen sitting on each side of me. To my left, UCC middleweight champ Jordan Powers is currently 15-1 with his only loss coming in his second fight in the UCC five years ago. He’s currently riding an eight-fight winning streak. And on my right is the challenger, Jake Sherwood. His record is 12-5, and he’s coming off a win over former champ Eddie Jackson.

  “I know you guys didn’t show up to hear me, so let’s get right to the questions.” He scanned media row and pointed toward a person I couldn’t see. “Go ahead.”

  The voice
was muffled, but I heard his first question. “This is directed to Jordan. What do you think Sherwood is going to have for you? It seems you have at least a slight advantage in every aspect.”

  Powers’ response was much clearer because it was into a microphone. “Sherwood is a tough fighter. I’ve got more than a slight advantage in every area, but he’s tough. I’m prepared though, and I’ll keep the belt.”

  We started off with a canned question and answer. I hoped the whole thing wouldn’t be like this. I got my wish.

  “And a follow up question for Jordan, if you beat Sherwood— ”

  “When I beat Sherwood,” Powers interjected.

  “Okay,” said the reporter, “when you beat him, who would you fight next? Zane Todd is here today, and you’ve been going back and forth with him. Would you really like to fight him?”

  The look on Powers’ face went from cordial and professional to gangster high on crack.

  “Man, that’s a shit question. First, I’m fighting this man right here,” he gestured to the other side of the podium, “and I don’t know after that, but Zane is a washed up bitch.” He spit the word bitch out of his mouth and looked right at me as he said it. “I guess I’d fight his old ass to teach him a lesson.”

  I was shocked to hear a spattering of boos come from the crowd.

  “Let’s stay on track,” Nick Lewis said. “We’re here to talk about a hell of a fight between two deserving competitors, not some fantasy fight.”

  He pointed toward another reporter. This one was closer to me. “It’s a fair question though, Mr. Lewis. With all the trash talk between the two, and Todd’s recent resurgence, is it a possibility to see Zane Todd and Jordan Powers in the cage any time soon?”

  A short, but boisterous chant of ZT rippled through the crowd.

  Lewis quieted it by adjusting the microphone. His icy blue eyes looked like they were about to shoot lightning bolts at the reporter.

  “Maybe, but you guys are being disrespectful to Jake Sherwood. He might be an underdog, but I guarantee you he can beat Jordan Powers, and it’s going to be a great fight. No more questions about Zane Todd and Jordan Powers, or I’ll kick your asses out of here.”

  He had a little smile when he said it, but every reporter knew he meant it. The questions shifted to the scheduled fight. I watched quietly. After twenty or so minutes, the press conference was wrapping up. Nick Lewis gave his final pitch to the press and fans about why they should care about this fight.

  He then had both men stand in front of the podium for a photo-op stare down. Powers looked thick in his dark jeans and slim-fitting button-down white shirt. His blond hair was almost to the scalp, and he looked all business as he made his way around the table to the front of the stage. On the way, he grabbed the belt and draped it over his right shoulder.

  Sherwood was in a full suit, complete with a silver silk tie. At just under six feet tall he had to look up at Powers, who was definitely the bigger man. The men glared at each other for a few seconds, and the cameras clicked. Then they turned to face the crowd, both with their fists up.

  I stood and willed Powers to look my way. I was just 30 or so feet from him. As the photos were ending, he looked right at me. I smiled and blew him an exaggerated kiss. Then I pointed to the belt and mouthed, “That’s mine, bitch.”

  Jordan Powers went monkey in a banana store mad and started towards me. His reaction was perfect. I kept nodding my head and wondered if he’d actually make it all the way to me.

  He didn’t. Matchmaker Oliver Reed, who I hadn’t even seen yet, came out of nowhere, yelling at Powers to stop. Two bigger guys from the UCC security were right behind him, and they were followed by Lewis. I smacked my fist into my hand and kept nodding in a way that invited him on over.

  He was pointing and yelling, and I stepped over the rope and squeezed between the folding chairs until I was looking up at him. Security rushed to my side. “I’m right here. Come get some!”

  Reed struggled to hold Powers back, as he pushed on him to get at me. Nick Lewis joined Reed and gripped Jordan’s arm.

  Finally the UCC got everything calmed down. I left the way I entered, with a chant of ZT, ZT ringing off the Bricktown Ballpark’s façade.

  Chapter 26

  As we got to the corner of Mickey Mantle and Sheridan, Sam said, “You’re famous, Daddy.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. Everybody wanted a picture with you.”

  I laughed. “I guess so.”

  Sam and I had just spent half an hour taking photos with fans. Immediately after the press conference, I was swarmed. It reminded me of my championship days in the UCC. Now, we were walking down the street looking for a place to grab a bite to eat before making the drive back home.

  We were heading west on Sheridan when a black SUV pulled up next to us and sounded its horn. I looked over as the tinted window was coming down, and prepared for Lex McNeil and Jake Sherwood to jump out and start kicking me. Instead, I saw the thick black hair and rounded face of Oliver Reed. “Zane, we’d like to talk with you,” he said.

  I glanced down at Sam by my side. “What’s up?”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “We’re looking for a place to eat now.”

  “Hop in. We have a room reserved at the Bourbon Street Café.”

  Sam and I climbed in. Nick Lewis sat in the opposite seat. He was sending a text and glanced up and nodded.

  I returned the nod.

  Moments later, we entered a side door of the restaurant and were led into a back room big enough for a group of 15 or so.

  Oliver had made small talk on the short drive over. Nick hadn’t said a word. As we settled into our seats around a large table complete with a red table cloth and some jazz music in the background, Nick finally spoke.

  “Zane, you’re being a real pain in the ass lately.”

  I smiled. “Thanks.”

  “Not sure if it’s a compliment,” he said, but he was kind of smiling, too.

  The waitress came. We ordered drinks and talked about the business of MMA and bartending. A lot had changed with the UCC since I left almost four years earlier.

  Our food was on the way when Oliver and Nick finally got down to what they wanted to talk to me about. “Here’s the deal,” Oliver said. “We’re in a unique situation. Jordan’s focus on you is so crazy that it’s making it hard to sell this fight with Sherwood.”

  “You know I can’t help that,” I said. “I mean he started talking shit about me. I just responded.”

  “We know,” it was Nick, “and a few weeks ago it was annoying because we both didn’t see an upside with you, but after last weekend and your back-to-back wins we think we can promote you as a legit contender.”

  “I am a legit contender,” I said. “I’ve been busting my ass, and I’m as good now as I was when I had the belt.”

  “Yeah, my daddy has been kicking butt,” Sam added.

  She’d been sitting quietly and drawing pictures of horses.

  Oliver chuckled. “He has been kicking butt, hasn’t he? You know you’ve gotten a lot bigger since the last time I saw you.”

  “I’m in second grade now. My teacher is Ms. Vega.” Sam answered in a matter of fact tone and went back to drawing.

  “What we’re getting at is that we want you back in the UCC,” Nick said, “and we want you to fight Powers after he beats Sherwood.”

  I felt this coming, but it was still a shock. Just over two months ago I was staring at the ceiling at the Coliseum Bar, and now I was getting an offer from the UCC for a shot at the belt. I tried to keep my composure. “You know I’m interested,” I said.

  “You’ve won six out of seven fights since you came back from retirement,” Oliver said. “You’re a former champ, you’ve got a great beef going with Powers, but you have to consider that this will be a one-shot deal. Many fans will say you’re getting this opportunity because of your beef, not your ability. It’s a pretty risky move on our part.�
��

  This was Oliver’s attempt at curbing my expectations. I had to remember that I had a little bit of leverage here. If they didn’t sign me I could easily win a couple more fights and keep the feud going, in effect damaging the credibility of their middleweight champ while increasing my stock. Plus, they didn’t know my current predicament of needing a lot of money to buy my daughter from my ex.

  “What’s the offer?” I asked.

  “Like Oliver said, this will be a one-fight contract.” Nick took a sip of his drink. “What do you think you’re worth?”

  Now I mirrored him and sipped my drink. I needed a moment to think. I still needed at least sixty thousand to pay Lorenzo and Leeza. “I’d need 75 with a 25 win bonus,” I said.

  Nick offered his famed crooked smile. His ice blue eyes seemed amused. “Way too high, Zane.”

  “I don’t think so. I’ll keep the trash-talk going and hype the hell out of it. As you just said, this is my only shot. I’ve got to make it pay off.”

  “I understand,” it was Oliver talking, “but we can’t do that. How about 25/25? Then you’ve got a chance at 50 and the belt.”

  “I’ve got to get a shot to make at least 75.”

  The waitress arrived with a tray full of Cajun food.

  “We’ll give you 35/35, Zane. That’s it,” Nick said.

  I stuck out my hand and we shook on it. I was back in the UCC, but as I smiled at Sam and she smiled at me over a horse drawing that looked like a cow, I knew I still had a lot to worry about.

  Chapter 27

  We were stopped at the same rest area as a few hours before. Sam was in the restroom and I leaned against my car, one foot crossed over the other and phone to my ear. I was talking with Morris again. This time it was under completely different circumstances. I’d just told him I was back in the UCC, and he was definitely my manager.

  “I’ve been thinking though. This seems like a great deal, exactly what I wanted, but it doesn’t help my current situation. I can’t even make the announcement about signing with them until after the Powers/Sherwood fight. They don’t want me to cause any more problems with promoting it.”