Caged Love: MMA Contemporary Suspense (Book One) by Liberty Thunderbolt, Zac Robinson

against a well-respected Japanese fighter with supposed great jiu jitsu. Tristan wouldn’t let the man take him to the ground though. He sprawled and scrambled effectively for almost the entire first round before landing a perfectly timed knee at the 8:31 mark and putting the man’s lights out.
    It was a solid night for the four American fighters. Three victories and the one loss came in a monumental battle. As the arena cleared and the fighters were getting paid and geared up for the after parties, Bretten scanned the thinning crowd and found Brooke standing close to the ring. She fielded questions from a handful of reporters, smiling the whole time.
    “Here comes Coach Whit,” Rodrigo said as he clapped Bretten’s shoulder.
    “You guys both fought well tonight,” Whit said. “I might have openings for you at my gym in Enid. I mean if you’re interested in training with the best.”
    “When do you want me there?” Rodrigo said.
    Whit smiled. “I like that enthusiasm,” and turned to Bretten.
    “I appreciate the offer, Whit,” Bretten stated his name clearly this time, “but that’s a big step for me. Seriously, I appreciate it, but I’m going to have to talk it over with my family.”
    “Your call pup, no pressure here, you know where to reach me.”
    Brooke sidled up beside Whit. “What’s his call, Coach? Mango Jalapeno or Barbeque?”
    “I invited them to train with us.”
    A smile spread across Brooke’s face and her eyes twinkled. “You should. You’d love it at Whit’s. You both fought awesome tonight. That was a fucking battle, Bretten! I gave you the nod.”
    Bretten felt his cheeks grow hot. “Thanks, you fought great too. I just have to figure it all out.”
    “We’ll take it easy on you,” she replied.
    Two reporters appeared wanting to ask Whit and Brooke some questions. “Like I said, you know where to reach me,” Whit said.
    Bretten nodded, thanked him again, and glanced over the big man’s right shoulder. Brooke brushed her hair away from her eyes as she talked to the reporters.
    Who was he kidding? He was going to Enid, Oklahoma.

Chapter 11
    M arshall Weathers was dressed in a tight black t-shirt and blue jeans that were masked by a grubby white apron. It had been his favorite attire for many years.
    The music low and slow, a few regulars were perched in their regular spots, sipping beer, blowing swirling torrents of smoke in the air, throwing darts, the usual stuff that regulars do.
    With a worn rag to match his apron, Marshall made lazy circles on the already clean Oak bar top. He joked that his bald head was brown not because of his ethnicity or even the Nevada sun, but from the two dim tavern lights that tossed a ringed glow on each corner of the Oak. “Stand under these low-shine lights all day every day and your head will turn dark like mine,” he’d tell his regulars with a laugh.
    This place was his life. He figured there was more out there in the big world, but he didn’t need to see it. The ex-linebacker turned bar owner gazed at one of the TV screens, SportsCenter was on with the sound turned down, he read some of the sub-titles and blanked out on the rest. The black door rattled open announcing the presence of a new face. As usual, it turned out to be a familiar one.
    The burly man was in his early fifties, but time hadn’t been good to him. He walked with a limp as if his legs strained to carry his two hundred or so pounds, and his dome was quickly reaching Marshall’s state of hairlessness. His face heavy, his jaw and chin round, his eyes dark brown, and in the center of it all was a flat, bent nose. He offered a weary smile, nodded to his bar acquaintances, and hobbled toward his seat.
    The man slipped onto his stool. Marshall slid him a beer and they shook hands. Marshall actually knew his full name, Teddy “Bear” Haynes. Most people simply called him Bear, and that was how he wanted it. He’d gotten the nickname from a couple punks his dad was