“That’ll be Katie’s job—provided she survives her probation. But for now . . . f**k. I don’t want to be on camera. Do you?”
“Fuck no,” Blue said. “TV interview shit is my least-favorite thing about fighting. Especially post-fight. Reporters sticking a damn camera in your face. Half the time I don’t know my own name, never mind talking coherently about fight strategy.”
“We’re on the same page there. You want one of your guys and one of my guys?”
Katie stormed in through the side door. “Who’s representing Black and Blue Promotions in the segment with KNNR?”
Blue’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head and his tongue almost smacked into the floor at seeing Katie in her ring-girl getup.
“That’s what we’re discussing. Knox and Gil?”
“No, no, no. This is the first promotional event, so it has to be the owners, if for no other reason than to show a solid front after Mr. Curacao’s public beat-down of you, Mr. Black.”
The woman did have a point.
Then she opened the door. “Get on with it. Smile, but don’t be goofy. Don’t be aloof either. Talk about the exciting amateur matchups tonight, but also about all the exciting matchups we’ve planned over the next few months. Then mention that mixed martial arts bouts are great entertainment for the whole family.”
Ronin and Blue exchanged a look.
Katie made the shooing motion again. “Go!”
Out in the hallway, Blue said, “Who knew the hot ring girl also had a brain?”
“Jesus, Blue.”
“Her brain ain’t bigger than her tits. Did you see those? I mean, how could you miss them, spilling out of that teeny top, no?”
“Maybe you should be thinking about this interview rather than Katie’s sizable . . . contributions to the company.”
• • •
AFTER the interview, five minutes before the event was slated to start, Ronin and Blue were in the hallway discussing last-minute details with their fighters, when Knox jogged up the hallway, Shiori hot on his heels.
“Sensei, we’ve got a problem.”
Never f**king failed. “What?”
“The chick who’s matched with Sophia is drunk. Like passed-out drunk in the women’s locker room.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope.”
“Where in the hell did you find her?” he demanded of Blue.
But Sophia started hammering away at Blue in Portuguese before he could answer.
Then Shiori got in his face. “Ronin, I can do this.”
“Do what?” Ronin scarcely paid any attention to his sister as he was trying to figure out why Sophia was so pissed off at Blue.
A shrill whistle split the air.
All arguing stopped and they faced Knox. “Three minutes till show time. I’ll tell the announcer the women’s bout is off.”
“No. I’ll fight in her place.”
Shocked, Ronin looked at Shiori, dressed to kill in some slinky dress with sleeves that made her look like a butterfly. And she wore five-inch stilettos. “You’re not prepared.”
“That’s what I told her,” Knox said hotly.
Then Shiori went to stand in front of Blue. “You own half of the promotion company, and this was originally set up as your event. You need a fighter and I want to fight. I’m Rokudan. I’ve been teaching for two months and training in jujitsu my entire life. I’m not exactly unskilled. Or unprepared.”
Blue gave her a considering look.
“Goddammit, Blue, you can’t seriously—”
Sophia cut Knox off with, “Let her fight me. Then at least I’ll know I have a worthy opponent and not a drunken whore you used to f**k. You owe me this, brother.”
Blue said, “This is exactly why I didn’t want you on the card tonight. Or any night.”
Sophia cocked her head at Shiori. “We need these men making decisions for us? People paid good money to see a fight. Let’s give them one.”
Both women turned simultaneously toward Blue.
He threw up his hands. “Fine! Fight. But the win-lose outcome better never affect either of you at the dojo. Understood?”
“I’ll already be ringside with Deacon, so who will be ringside with She-Cat?” Knox asked.
“Me,” Ronin said, slipping his arm around Shiori’s waist to keep her from clawing at Knox for his obnoxious nickname for her.
“Thank you.”
“I see a streak of stupid runs wide in the Black family,” Knox said.
Sophia’s gaze moved over Shiori. “You have any gear with you?”
“None.”
“I’ve got extra.” Sophia grinned evilly. “Or we can just rip it off my drunken former opponent. Serve her right to wake up naked.”
They headed to the women’s locker room.
“Wonder if they’re doing each other’s hair, too?” Knox said snottily.
“If you ask me if you can watch, I’m knocking you the f**k out,” Deacon drawled.
Blue met Ronin’s gaze. “Look, I had no choice. Sophia accused me of rigging her fight.”
“Did you?”
“No. But I did sleep with the woman she was supposed to meet in the cage tonight.”
Ronin’s eyes narrowed. “Please tell me you don’t have a problem keeping your dick in your pants.”
Blue blushed. “I’m discreet. The one time I’m not? Came back to bite me in the ass.”
The announcer started his spiel and they headed into the arena.
• • •
THE event center was packed to capacity; they’d had to turn spectators away so as not to violate fire code. It’d be tempting to book a bigger venue next time, but word of mouth about the sold-out status of tonight’s docket would pretty much guarantee early ticket sales for the next matchups.
The lights started swirling and the music crescendoed. Pageantry was Ronin’s least-favorite part of MMA events. The fighter picking a theme song to enter the arena, a posse following behind him, while the crowd alternately booed and cheered.
In the amateur fights, held in boxing gyms and private back rooms at dive bars, the participants were patted down, put in the ring, given a reminder of the rules, and then the round began. Usually the ref was someone like him, a former fighter past his head-knocking prime who still loved a good, fair fight.
While Ronin liked to see professionalism and well-prepared fighters in the amateur division, something about the underground fights rang truer. Many guys in those bouts were in it for the money. Physical prowess played a part in it, but the chance to win a few hundred bucks for a few minutes’ work made it easier to clock in for their blue-collar jobs come Monday morning.