“Love the suit.”  Nico wraps his arm around my waist possessively the second I approach.  I wore his favorite red suit, knowing I would be leaving the office early to go straight to see him.  The hem is a little shorter than most of my others, but I barely made it out of it the last time I wore it, so I thought he might have taken a liking to it.  I was right.  I love that Nico finds me sexy in a suit.  Some men would be intimidated by a woman dressed for business, but not Nico.  Instead of intimidated, he finds it arousing.

The newscasters come on and we join the others around the T.V.  The announcer talks for a little while about Nico’s career, footage plays on the screen from the fight.  Nico’s grip on my waist tightens as they discuss the death of his former opponent, I’m only grateful that they didn’t decide to replay the blow that ended the fight.

Finally, the President of the MMA Fighting Association comes on the screen and reminds everyone that one week from today the championship fight will take place.  He then makes a big to-do about opening an envelope that contains the name of the challenger, as if he didn’t already know, and the name is announced.  Trevor Crispino.  The room falls silent.  Apparently I’m the only one that the name means nothing to.  I scan the room for some indication of why Mr. Crispino’s name is met with such empathy, but everyone seems shell-shocked.  Especially Preach.  I vaguely remember Nico telling me he thought it would be a fighter named Caputo.

Nico disappears before I can ask him what is going on and suddenly the quiet room erupts in chatter.  There’s lots of “no fuckin way” comments and a few “this is bullshit, he’s not even a contender” remarks, but I’m still lost.  I make my way through to Preach, who’s still staring at the floor.  His reaction is making me feel even more panicked.

“Preach, what’s wrong with Trevor Crispino?”  I ask hesitantly, not really sure I want to hear the answer, because I know it’s bad.  Really bad.

Preach looks up at me, his eyes are glassy and he looks sad.  My heart lurches into my stomach.  “He’s Frankie’s brother.  The boy that died in the the fight.  They’re trying to make it a grudge match.  But the kid shouldn’t even be in the ring with the likes of Nico.  He’s no match.  Nico will kill ‘em.”

I’m sure the last words weren’t meant literally, but sometimes things that aren’t meant to come out that way, come out the way they should be spoken in the end, anyway.

I find Nico in his loft, sitting in the dark.  His elbows on his knees, head dropped low in his hands. I wait for a minute before I approach, wondering if he will acknowledge I’ve entered the room.  The gate on the elevator door is loud, there’s no way he didn’t hear me come in.  But he just sits there quietly, even as I make my way to him and rest my hand on his shoulders, he doesn’t move.

“You okay?”  My voice is low, but the room is so quiet, there is no mistaking that he can hear me.  Yet he doesn’t answer.

I bend down to eye level with him in the darkness.  It doesn’t matter that he can’t see me, I’ll be harder to ignore when I’m so close.

“What can we do?”

Nico lets out a heavy rush of air before he wraps his big hand around my neck, leaning his forehead against mine.  “Just let me hold you.”

That I can do.  I only wish I had more to offer to comfort him.  His voice sounds raw and pained.  I can only imagine what he must be feeling.  If my own crushed heart and knotted stomach are any indication, then his own pain must be unbearable.  How can they do this to him?  Put him in the cage with the brother of the man he killed? A man that is no match for his power.  Aren’t there rules or something?

My initial shock and sadness is starting to wear off and I’ve moved onto pissed.  Mad, angry, ready to take on a fight of my own.  “We’ll get you out of this.  You don’t have to do this.  This isn’t sportsmanship, this is for ticket sales.”  Have they no conscience?  And what about safety?  Preach said the brother is no match, that Nico will kill him.  Aren’t they supposed to match up ability?  I hear my own breath speed up, my anger getting the best of me.

Nico chuckles quietly.  It’s barely there and I’m not even sure if what I heard is the sound of his laughter.  But then he speaks and I know that I’m not mistaken, “Might have to keep you home for the fight…afraid you’re gonna jump in the cage and beat the crap out of the guy for me.”  I can hear the smile in his voice as he speaks.

“I might.”  His smile is returned, even if he can’t see it.

I spend the next three days researching, analyzing, and generally looking for any possible loophole to get him out of the fight.  I’ve called in every favor I had and sought opinions from each and every lawyer that might remotely be able to help us.  Even William.  But we all come up with the same conclusion, the contract is airtight.  Of course, Nico can walk away from the fight and pay the penalty clause.  But he won’t do that.  Preach’s finances are on the line too.  I don’t know why I didn’t see the motive behind making Preach invested in the fight, but I didn’t.  Whoever drew up the terms of the contract new exactly what they were doing.  They knew Preach and Nico well, but not just the fighter and trainer.

They’ve exploited the relationship between these two men on a personal level, knowing Preach would never let Nico pay his penalty and Nico would never let Preach take such a financially draining hit.  Two stubborn men that will protect each other until the end, no matter what the cost to themselves.

And it’s gotten even worse.  Preach has decided that the fight will be good for Nico, that he needs to move on and getting through this disaster of a fight will help him push through the remnants of emotional ties that remain.  He’s even started to get Nico to believe some of his bullshit.  That a grudge match is some sort of sick redemption…a shot at salvation.

  I jump when I hear the front door to the office open.  It’s after ten and I promised Regina I’d lock it behind her when she left hours ago, but I was so engrossed in what I was searching for, that I completely forgot.  But then I feel it, the unmistakable presence of the man that makes my heart rate speed up.  I’m absolutely certain that if I was hooked up to an EKG machine, it would be able to record each step closer that Nico Hunter takes in my direction.

“The door isn’t locked.”  Nico’s voice is tense.  He’s protective, and my lack of concern for my own safety is something I’ve learned he isn’t fond of.

“I must have forgotten.”  I look up, offering the lame excuse.  I watch as Nico takes in the mess that was once my office.  I have piles of papers and journals strewn all over the office and my garbage overflows with crumpled yellow legal paper where I’ve started to map out an angle to break the contract, but didn’t work in the end.

“Big case?” His eyes gloss over my desk to accentuate what he is referring to.

“Sort of.”  I’m not lying…at the moment it’s the most important case I have.  And the reality is that it’s the only case I’ve worked on in three days.  All my other work can wait.

Nico pushes off the door frame where he rests and walks to my desk, taking a piece of paper off it, and reading a few lines before putting it back down.  He takes a pile of clipped documents from the other side of the desk and does the same thing, reading a little to get a feel for what I’ve been working on.  He knows what I’m doing, this act is for my benefit.

“Come on, we’re going home.”  He’s standing on the other side of my desk.  As much as I love hearing Nico tell me we’re going home, I’m not ready yet.  I need a little more time to work my way through my latest strategy.  There has to be a way to get him out of the damn contract.