Guarded Heart (Dubicki's) Read online

  Two years ago, Jesse had experienced one of the worst losses and sustained the worst injuries of his fighting career to Damon Velasquez. Not only was it physically challenging, it had been hard to emotionally digest every day since. So many times, Jesse had imagined this day of vengeance in his mind with the outcome of him being the winner. He wanted it to play out that way perfectly or, at the very least, to come out more ahead than he had last time. Velasquez deserved a beating, and he wanted to be the one to give it to him.

  He went home, showered, and got his bag ready for the fight that was just a few hours away. He’d practiced that moment in his mind so many times that it seemed surreal that it was finally there. He was full of energy and decided to go to the arena a bit early. He’d beat Pablo there: they’d agreed to meet a bit later. It would give Jesse time to think out the possibilities of the fight, not that he hadn’t many times before.

  Jesse got into his white pickup truck and hit the track he wanted to hear right then. “She’s Country” by Jason Aldean started playing. He played it loud, put his shades on, and started the drive to the arena. He liked the intensity in the drive of that song: it matched his mood right then.

  Twenty minutes later, Jesse parked his truck and entered the arena. He loved the smell of the place right before a fight. And after. It was what he lived for. Having a good opponent and knowing that he could have the upper hand if he kept his head about him while he was in the ring.

  He made his way back to the locker room to check his belongings and to start to prepare for the fight.

  “Hi, Jesse.”

  Jesse was taken aback by the sound of her voice. Inwardly, he groaned. “Janelle. Hi.”

  Janelle Velasquez was Damon’s little sister, if he used the term “little” lightly. Janelle was also an MMA fighter in the women’s league, and the girl could kick some serious ass. He’d never admit it to her, but he liked his women a little less rough around the edges.

  She’d been after him since they’d been kids. Damon had come to learn the MMA craft in Minnesota. The state was known for its excellent fighting schools and facilities and had given birth to some of the best fighters in the league. Damon and Janelle lived in California, but for the short time they were in Minnesota, Janelle would never leave him alone. He didn’t encourage her then, but one night when he’d had too much to drink, he’d made a colossal mistake and hooked up with her. Waking up the morning after was like being in a bad dream, and he’d told her it was a mistake. She didn’t respond to that kindly.

  Janelle walked up behind him as he faced his locker in a careful effort not to look her way. She put her hand on his shoulder and caressed it. He flinched.

  “Janelle, it’s been a long time. I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to talk.”

  “Is that any way to greet someone you haven’t seen in a few years? What is wrong with you, Jesse?” Janelle said in surprise, clearly taken aback by him keeping a distance from her.

  “What’s the wrong with me, Janelle? Let’s see, perhaps I’ve got a rather big fight tonight. I’ve got to go,” he said as he walked past her to the door exiting the locker room. He had to get away from her.

  “Wow, Jesse. You always were an asshole, you know that? I hope Damon kicks your ass again, Jesse. You deserve it.”

  Jesse was glad to be rid of her. If she caused this much drama after not seeing her for a while, he could only imagine what she was like on a normal day. Clearly, the crazy gene ran in their family.

  “Jesse!” Pablo exclaimed as he entered the hallway that led back to the locker room.

  “How you feeling, Jesse? Ready for the day you’ve been waiting for?” he said as he affectionately smacked Jesse on the back.

  “You have no idea,” Jesse said as he and Pablo smiled at each other, the anticipation nearly palpable.

  “Alright, let’s go back to the locker room, and I’ll get you taped up. Then we can have the sports therapist work to loosen you up a bit,” Pablo said as they entered the locker room and both dropped their bags on the benches. The locker room was big enough to house the fighter and his staff and still leave room for all of them to sit and be comfortable.

  ***

  The moment was he’d been waiting for the last two years was finally there. The practice routine he’d endured for the three months since he’d found out he was going to finally have this fight had been grueling, and this was what it had all been for. It had already been worth every moment of blood, sweat, and tears. A win would just seal the deal.

  After spending time preparing with his team, he put his robe on, followed Pablo to the tunnel that led to the fighting ring, and silently said a little prayer for strength. As he did, he looked up to the sky, knowing his mother, father, and buddy Cameron were watching over him.

  He’d taken his name Jesse “The Patriot” Dubicki in honor of his friend Cameron who joined the US Marine Corps after high school and died overseas defending their country. Cameron lost his life saving the lives of other soldiers in his unit against an enemy raid. It was such an amazing thing for Cameron to do, and Jesse wasn’t surprised that he’d given his life for his country in that way. Still, the loss had hit him hard. Losing his mother way too soon made him particularly vulnerable to the loss of his friend Cameron. Cameron had been one of his best friends growing up. He was a soldier and a patriot, and Jesse decided to fight in his memory. He had a tattoo on his back in Cameron’s memory. An American flag with words scrolled beneath it:

  Cameron Mayer

  1989-2012

  A True Patriot

  Semper Fi

  His parents and Cameron may have been gone, but he still believed they were around him sometimes, especially when he had an important life event, which that fight definitely was. Not only would a win advance him higher in the overall stats, it would bring him closer to the next level of fighting. There was nothing that made a better fighter than the right training, a clear head, and the heart to marry the two skills to produce the desired outcome. Deep down was the human fear that this time he really could be killed. He’d risk that for the vengeance he wanted from Damon Velasquez. A win. He felt more hope with each passing moment. Let the games begin.

  Chapter 11

  Carissa sat down next to Dana and Kyle in what ended up to be really good seats. They were off to the left of the ring, a few rows back, so they could see the fight pretty well. Carissa had honestly never been excited for a fight, but she wanted to see what Jesse Dubicki was capable of in the ring. When Dana had told her he was an MMA fighter, Carissa had googled him. She spent some time looking into his track record, which was pretty good except for the fact that his competitor that night had nearly killed him in a previous fight. She’d seen a YouTube video of the fight two years prior. It was sickening. She hoped Damon Velasquez got his payback tonight. He deserved it.

  “Ladies and gentleman, on this day you have come here to witness a match by two competitors at the top of their game. First, the challenger. Let’s give a nice, big Minnesota welcome to one of the top middleweight fighters of the West… Damon ‘The Detonator’ Velasquez.”

  Both cheers and boos erupted with every syllable of his name as it was announced.

  Damon Velasquez emerged from the tunnel with his green robe that bared “The Detonator” with a picture of a bomb with a lit fuse below it on the back of his robe. As he got in the ring and pulled his hood back, she could see his nearly black eyes take in the crowd; the look in them either evil or crazy. Or maybe both. Carissa shivered. He looked sinister to her.

  As he smiled, his right bicuspid tooth’s gold cap seemed to glint in the light of the auditorium. His face was hard with a square jaw, and his skin tone looked almost cinnamon in color. His jaw was covered in short, dark stubble that towed the line between sexy and creepy, and he held himself as if he knew he was creepy and was proud of it. He looked slightly flushed in his cheeks, which was the result of the various pock marks on his face from his battle with acne in his youth.


  His fans stood up and cheered for him, all wearing their green “Detonator” shirts. An obnoxiously big-chested woman a few rows over from them held a sign that said “Do Me, Detonator,” and her t-shirt had what looked to be simulated fuses going off over each of her breasts.

  “Okay, folks! Here’s the moment you have been waiting for. Our defending hometown champion we know and love. Are you ready?”

  Deafening screams enveloped the auditorium in answer.

  “Here he is. Jesse… THE PATRIOT… DUUUBICCKKIIIIIIII!”

  The volume seemed to rise to a decibel level of sound that rivaled a freight train.

  Jesse emerged from the tunnel with his head under the soft hood of his navy blue “Patriot” robe. Carissa’s mouth dropped open as she watched him jump up to the ring. She had not realized how sexy he was. As he lowered his hood, she felt the heat raise a notch in her body as she took in the intensity of his gaze. His steely, blue-gray eyes seemed unforgiving just then, and she marveled at how chiseled his facial features were. His skin looked as if it was both sun-kissed and slightly oiled, and he scanned the crowd.

  Both men finished disrobing and talking in their respective corners to their coaching teams. They then met in the center of the ring while the referee recited the rules, after which they bumped fists. They went back to their corners, and the bell signaling the fight had begun resounded through the air. The arena suddenly went quiet as both men walked toward the center of the ring.

  The men circled each other for what seemed like too long as they assessed each other and waited for the other to make the first move.

  Velasquez swung a right hook to connect to Jesse’s upper body, but Jesse was quick to dodge the attempt. Velasquez barely let him correct himself, still advancing on him like a predator. He threw a few more shots at Jesse, and Jesse finally seized the opportunity for an upper cut to Damon’s jaw. Damon’s head flew back in surprise as Jesse connected again with his right eye. The crowd went wild.

  A woman above them screamed, “I want to have your babies, Jesse!”

  After Jesse had landed a hit to Damon’s eyebrow, Damon recovered quickly and the men continued to dance back and forth.

  “Kill him, Jesse! You’ve got this!” one man in the crowd screamed.

  Jesse stood still while Damon danced around him, waiting until Damon hit the perfect angle, and landed a hard shot with his fist to the side of Damon’s torso. Damon barely flinched.

  Damon continued to dance with Jesse in an effort to tire him. It worked. He backed Jesse into the corner, which was a bad place for a fighter to be overpowered. It took talent for the man trapped in the corner to overpower his opponent and get back on his feet.

  An evil smile seemed to erupt across Damon’s face as he delivered a series of quick punches to Jesse’s side. It was a move that was risky. It could tire the person delivering the punches more than the fighter the punches were delivered to.

  Jesse used that to his advantage to power his way out of the corner.

  The bell rang signaling the end of the round.

  “Kill him, Jesse!” a few people yelled in the crowd. Clearly, Jesse’s fans wanted vengeance for him, too.

  At that moment, the tension in the arena seemed to be at a fever pitch, and a few little scuffles broke out in the crowd.

  “Jesse, do NOT let him get the best of you so soon,” Pablo said to him as Jesse got back into his corner.

  “I know, Pablo. I’m just as frustrated as you are.”

  “Remember what we’re fighting for. What you’ve worked for. We’ve discussed the different scenarios and strategies. Don’t forget them. You can do this,” Pablo told him as the bell rang again, signaling the start of the next round.

  The next few rounds were tense. The battle was closely matched, and by the fifth round, each fighter was showing signs of the wear the fight was taking on them. They both had a couple of cuts and scrapes, and both seemed like they were becoming physically tired.

  Jesse took a deep breath right before the start of the next round; he remembered his promise to his family that he would fight smart and not be harmed again like he was last time. If he couldn’t pull off the win, he would at least try to honor that even if it meant submission. He didn’t want to put too much energy into giving up right now, though. He’d worked too hard for this, and it wasn’t over yet.

  A couple of minutes into the round, Damon advanced on Jesse, taking him down in a scissor kick. It made Jesse’s 280 pounds look like nothing as he toppled to the floor, flat on his back. Jesse had little time to react other than to let his instincts kick in. The attack brought his primal need to win to the surface.

  Jesse was up so quickly it surprised his opponent. The crowd cheered.

  Damon’s surprise worked to Jesse’s advantage as he plowed his opponent against the wall.

  The fighters took turns delivering hits to each other, with Jesse still trapping Damon against the wall. Jesse was able to deliver the perfect punch above his eye, resulting in a bleeder that would ultimately alter Damon’s vision if not repaired.

  That was Jesse’s moment. The moment for him to advance on Damon with all his might and not give in.

  Damon had a handicap then, but that seemed to make him audibly sneer. He pushed at Jesse to let him out of the corner like he was crazy. For all the studying Jesse had done of Damon’s moves, he wasn’t prepared for the hit he took after Damon was released from that wall, and Damon was counting on that.

  Damon slammed his fist into the side of Jesse’s head, causing Jesse’s head to snap back. Damon anticipated his delay of motion and delivered another punch to his mouth. Jesse’s tooth started to bleed.

  The TV announcers began discussing with the crowd how that might be the end of things for Jesse Dubicki for the second time in a row.

  Damon, thinking he had a second while Jesse seemed disabled from the punch to his mouth, visibly seemed to back off. Jesse waited until that moment to advance on him. He slammed Damon down on the mat with just the right amount of pressure to his lower body, and both men went down.

  Jesse secured enough of his body over Damon’s so that his opponent was momentarily immobile and got him in a choke hold. The blood seemed to be pouring out of Jesse’s mouth, but he was not going down without a fight.

  Damon bucked at him in an attempt to turn the tables with little success.

  The crowd was screaming as the bell rang signaling the end of the final round. Since neither of them had ended the fight by submission or a visible win, it would be decided by the judges.

  The crowd screamed. People were hugging and high-fiving each other. Carissa even high-fived a few people in the excitement of the moment.

  The announcer sounded the bell as the referee got both men to the center of the ring.

  “Ladies and gentleman, the winner tonight by unanimous vote is JESSE… THE PATRIOT… DUBBICCKKKIII!”

  The referee grabbed Jesse’s hand and raised it above his head. Jesse looked so proud. His eyes seemed to dance with the promise of good things to come. At that moment, his eyes connected with Carissa’s. His eyes grew wide with surprise, and then he smiled. He lifted his free arm and pointed at her.

  Carissa looked behind her and realized he meant her. Her breath caught as the crowd turned to look at her. Shit. She bit her lower lip as she smiled and waved at him. She didn’t know if she’d be able to stay away from this guy if he really liked her. Like it or not, it seemed like the Jesse and Carissa train had already left the station.

  ***

  Jesse felt on top of the world. Not only had he defeated one of his biggest rivals, he had spotted Carissa in the crowd and had pointed to her. She may have said she wanted nothing to do with him, but he was going to do his best to change her mind. He walked over to his team and asked one of his security team to go find her. Luckily, most of the place had seen him point at her, so hopefully the guard could track her down easily.

  Jesse made his way back to the locker room. Pablo and the rest
of his team all cheered as he walked in. They had open energy drinks, and everyone toasted a congratulations.

  “Jesse, I’m proud of you,” Pablo said, giving him a quick pat on the back as Jesse thanked him.

  Just then, Carissa entered. To Jesse it felt like the world stopped. He’d wanted to see her again, and the moment was finally there. It was as if his crew knew, and they all quietly filtered out of the room, closing the door behind them. It was just the two of them.

  “Hi,” he said as she hesitantly entered the room.

  He stood up and extended his hand to her.

  “Hi, Jesse,” she said shyly. “Congratulations. I didn’t know you were a fighter until last night when my friend invited me at the last minute because she had an extra seat. She mentioned you were somewhat of a local hero. I didn’t know if I would like it, but it turns out I screamed so loud I think I might not have a voice tomorrow.”

  He just stood watching her, smiling. He looked like he was undressing her with his eyes.

  “I’m babbling. Sorry. I babble when I’m nervous,” she said, biting her lower lip and looking down at her shoes.

  He took a step near her. He was so close he was almost touching her.

  “Do I make you nervous?” he said quietly.

  Carissa just shook her head as she continued to look down at her feet.

  “I was glad to see you here. Did you know that I looked for you after you ran from me that morning?” he asked her.

  Carissa’s eyes got big with surprise. “You did?”

  “Yeah, I did. I know you told me to go away, but I was hoping it was just because you were scared. I swear I’m not a stalker.”

  They both laughed.

  “Yeah, I was a little afraid that morning. And embarrassed. You did a nice thing for me, and I’m sorry I flipped out on you like that. It was also a small matter of pride.”

  “What do you mean?” he quietly asked, urging her to continue.

  “Well, you saw me fall apart. You held my hair while I puked. You carried me up to your apartment when I passed out. I felt stupid. I don’t like being helpless like that.”