Lesson For Lox (Marco's MMA Boys) Read online

  LESSON

  FOR

  LOX

  Marco’s MMA Boys

  0.5

  By

  S.M. DONALDSON

  Lesson For Lox

  All rights reserved. This Book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased or publicly performed or used in any form without prior written permission of the publisher.

  Thank you for respecting the work of this Author.

  Lesson for Lox is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and events portrayed in this book are either from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, with exception to brand names, Artists named, and their song lyrics, and direct quotes from movies whose titles have been named. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Copyright © 2015, SM Donaldson

  Cover by IndieVention Designs

  Cover Model: Blair Sherrill

  Photography by Shelly Sale

  Editing by Chelly Peeler

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  LOX

  LOX

  ZANNE

  LOX

  ZANNE

  LOX

  ZANNE

  LOX

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  LOX

  Looking up at my best friends, my roommates, my brothers, twins Huck and Sly Webb, I scowl, growling. “Don’t give me shit, just get these fucking handcuffs off me.” I snatch at the cuffs.

  Of course, Sly is laughing so damn hard he has fucking tears rolling from his eyes. “I’m just trying- to- figure this- shit out,” he says, gasping. “I guess we know without you sharing.”

  Huck shakes his head. “Damn it, man. Marco is going to fucking kill us.” He looks around the room. “She didn’t leave a fucking key or anything? You sure?”

  I feel my face turning red as I yank at the handcuffs. “Do you think if I knew she left a key, I wouldn’t fucking tell you?! You think I enjoy lying here in all my glory handcuffed to a fucking hotel bed? Admitting some bitch got one over on me?”

  Huck puts his hands up as if he’s defending himself from my words. “Dude, I’m just asking. We cannot break shit on this bed or Marco really will kill us.”

  Vance DeMarco has been our mentor since we were young kids. He’s been a friend of my mom’s since they were in high school. They actually dated back then, but after graduation they drifted apart since he went into the Marines. Then Mom hooked up with the shit head known as my sperm donor. Marco came back here and opened up Marco’s Gym around the time the three of us were in middle school. We were just punks, getting into fights at school, giving my mom early grey hair. Mom worried about us so much, their mom never cared, so Mom went to the only person she figured was strong-willed enough to deal with three stubborn ass young teen boys...Marco.

  There’s a loud knock at the door. “Shit,” we all whisper.

  Huck lets out a deep breath. “Damn it.” He walks to the door, slowly opening it up. Marco storms in, “What is taking so damn long in-?” He stops mid-sentence. “What in the ever loving Hell, Loxley?”

  I shake my head. “Sorry, Marco.” I look at Sly. “Can you put a fucking towel over me, please?” I grind out.

  Sly shakes his head, throwing a towel over my junk. “Dude.”

  Marco stands at the foot of the bed, a vein throbbing in his neck and his face turning crimson. “Huck,” he grinds out. “Go down the street to the hardware store or a Lowe’s and buy a damn set of bolt cutters. Cut these fucking cuffs off his dumb ass. Sly, you’re coming with me because your fight is first tonight.” He points to Huck and me. “Don’t fucking waste any damn time getting that shit cut off and get your asses to the damn arena. Don’t tear one damn thing up or I will kick your fucking asses.” He turns around, grabbing Sly’s arm on the way out the door.

  Huck looks at me, almost remorseful. “I’ll be back as quick as I can.” He takes off out the door.

  Fuck, how did I end up like this?

  Oh yeah...

  LOX

  Thursday Night...

  Pensacola, Florida

  Checking my pockets for condoms and then myself one more time in the mirror, Huck shoves my arm. “Lox, man, if you look in that damn mirror one more time, I’m gonna run downstairs and buy you some Midol.”

  I hear Sly chuckle. “Are you feeling a little bloated there, Loxie?”

  I flip both of them off. “Shut the fuck up. You can’t rush perfection.” I motion to Sly, “Don’t forget what Marco said. You better not get fucking wasted tonight. You have the first fight tomorrow and Saturday. If you get trashed, he’s going to put our asses on lockdown the next time we leave town for a fight.”

  “Damn, Lox. Did you hide Mom somewhere in your duffle? That sounds a lot like her...well, without the f-bombs,” Huck says, referring to my mom, Elaine. Seeing as how she basically raised them, too, most of the time they call her mom.

  I roll my eyes and start to the door. “No, assholes.” I hate always being the damn responsible one. They act like I’m some damn stick in the mud when the only things I want to do are fight and make Marco proud. They don’t see that this could be a real thing for us one day. That we could be pros. Kids could be wearing shirts with our logo on them. We wouldn’t have to be working full-time jobs and training full-time at the gym. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no angel. I have an active social calendar. I’m a red-blooded, twenty-three-year-old American male. Our house is a true bachelor pad. On the dry erase board my mom bought us to put on our fridge for important notes, Huck thought that the important note he should share is what we call our house motto. “Hit it and quit it!” I just normally choose to err on the side of caution more than the two of them. “Marco is just going to be pissed if you get drunk tonight and fight like shit tomorrow.”

  Huck slaps me on the back as we start down the hall of our hotel to the elevators. “I know, man. I’ll keep an eye on him tonight. We just like to give you shit.”

  “So we’re going to Seville Quarter, right?” I ask, looking over at them as I hit the ground floor button. Seville Quarter is an awesome place in the historic part of Pensacola. You enter through an alleyway, then there are seven clubs to choose from. You can do anything from chilling to dancing and karaoke.

  Sly smiles. “Nope, we’re going to Babe’s and Busty’s.”

  I’m confused. “What? Do you mean Dave and Buster’s?” I wasn’t even aware that there was a Dave and Buster’s in Pensacola and I’m not sure why he would want to go there instead.

  “Nope, we’re going to a strip club. One of the guys from Mike’s Gym told me about it.” Huck looks down at the floor, shaking his head at his brother’s words. Mike’s Gym is a local gym. We hang out with their guys when we’re over this way. They do the same when they come to our hometown, Bakersville. We always go over to Gainesville and hit up some of the clubs there. Their trainer isn’t as strict as Marco. But in turn, they aren’t as good as we are either.

  “Fine, but I’m not staying in some shitty strip club all night,” I say to Sly more than anyone else.

  He huffs. “Fine.”

  Twenty minutes later, we are in a shit hole of a strip club. I’m not even sure it’s a legal club. I’m pretty positive there’s more shit going on in here than stripping. I lean over to Huck’s side. “Dude, we don’t need to fucking be in this place,” I say quietly.

  He looks to me. “Yeah, I’m kinda gathering that.”

  Sly shakes his head at us. “Pus
sies.”

  I point my finger at him. “We’re not pussies, we’re thinking with the damn head on our shoulders. You are going to get our asses locked up.” I lean closer to him. “Man, I just saw a drug deal going down. If the cops come in this place, we’re done before we ever get started.”

  He rolls his damn eyes. “Fine. Give me a half hour of titties and then we’ll go.”

  Huck and I both nod and mumble a “fine.”

  The lights change and a new dancer comes on stage. “Fuck,” I say before I can think better. She’s gorgeous, a fucking hard-ass ten in my book. Teasing us, she works the stage. The entire fucking stage. She owns every man in this room right now.

  It’s like I’m hypnotized by her. I take a twenty out of my wallet, which is really more than I need to be blowing in a titty bar. Holding it up and motioning her closer, she drops in front of me, grinding her ass. I slip the twenty in her string and step back.

  Sly looks like he just met Santa Claus for the first time. Practically drooling, he grins at me, giving me a high five. “That chick is fucking hot, Lox.”

  She seems classy for a place like this.

  Once her song finishes, I see her waiting tables. I make it a point to find her in the crowd. “Hi.”

  She gives me a self-assured smile. “Hey.”

  “You did a terrific job on the stage up there.”

  She leans over, bussing a table as she cleans it. “Thanks.”

  “My name is Lox Storm.”

  “Zanne.” She gives me a small smile.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” I say with a sinner’s grin.

  She shrugs. “Sorry, can’t while I’m on the clock.” She looks back over her shoulder as she walks away. “But thanks for the offer.”

  As I make my way across the bar back to our table, I notice the crowd getting a lot more rowdy. A lot less “good time” and a lot more “back room deal”.

  After a minute back at the table, I look at Huck and nod toward the door. He starts to speak to Sly but stops, looking at someone behind me. He grins. “How can we help you, kitten?”

  She sits a round of drinks on the table, including one for herself. “It’s my break and this round’s on me.” She slides into the chair next to me.

  We all give her a “thanks.”

  She studies me. “So you guys aren’t usuals here?”

  Sly smiles. “No, we’re from down around Gainesville. We’re just here for an MMA fight.”

  “Oh, so you’re just in town to watch the fight?” she adds.

  I give her my signature smile. “No, beautiful, we’re fighters for Marco’s Gym.”

  Her eyes brighten. “Really? Fighters, huh? We’ve got some regulars that are fighters around here.”

  Sly grins. “Yeah, a couple of guys from Mike’s told us about it.”

  The scraping of tables and sounds of chairs being turned over breaks our conversation, right before gun shots ring out. “Shit!” I yell, taking her to the floor.

  She grabs my hand, looking at my two friends. “Follow me.”

  We follow her out the back door of the bar. Once we’re outside, she continues to pull us toward the parking lot. “Come on, the cops are going to be here any minute.”

  I look at her. “Do you have a ride?”

  She nods. “Yeah, you guys?”

  I give her a quick smile. “Yeah. So, uh, do you have to work tomorrow night?”

  She gives me a sweet smile. “Why are you asking?’

  “Well, we’ll be in town the next couple of days for fights.” I shrug, “Just thought you might want to join us. We can get you some great seats.”

  ZANNE

  This could be a great in. I’ve heard about some drugs coming through one of the local gyms and then being distributed through the strip club. Not just PEDs either, cocaine, heroin and many other top dollar drugs, so whoever is backing this has money and power. These guys aren’t locals, that’s for sure, but they may be able to tell me about the locals without getting suspicious. I’m ready to wrap this case up, I’m tired of living the life of a damn stripper. I certainly don’t like taking my clothes off, that’s not what I signed up for.

  I give them the drop dead sexy grin I’ve practiced over and over to get what I need. “Sure. Sounds like a good time.”

  “You want me to come by and pick you up?” he asks in true southern fashion.

  I give a small sweet laugh. “No offense, but I barely know you. So thanks for the offer, but no thanks. I’ll get myself there.” I reach in my pocket and grab my burner phone. “Here, just put your info in here and I’ll text you. Then you can send me the details.” Dear lord, he’s hot.

  He smiles, typing the information into my phone. “Here you go.”

  I take the phone, briefly touching his hand. “Thanks, Storm.” I feel an electric shock run through my body.

  He shoves his hands down in his pockets and gives me a sexy, yet innocent grin. “See you tomorrow.”

  I nod, taking the phone and scrolling to his contact.

  ME: Here’s my number. ~Zanne

  LOX: Thanks. I’ll send you that info tomorrow.

  ME: Thanks.

  LOX: Sweet Dreams.

  I shake my head, walking to my car. Unlocking the old Honda I’m using, the sound of the door creaking to open drives me insane. I’ll be grabbing a can of WD-40 the next time I stop at a store. Sliding into the worn seat, I notice a manila envelope in my passenger seat. This is the way I communicate most of the time with my boss. As I start to back out of my spot, a knock at my window startles me.

  I look up to see the club’s manager, Wes. I roll down my window, “Hey, Wes.”

  “Hey, girl. Good to see you got out okay.”

  “Yeah, not my first time fleeing a club, unfortunately. You didn’t need me to stay for anything, did you?”

  He shakes his head. “No, just keep a look out. It got a little crazy in there tonight. The town’s flooded with fighters all hopped up on shit. They come into my club and start trying to compare dick sizes or something.” I notice him looking at the envelope on the opposite seat.

  I try to move on to something else. “Oh, is the club going to be open tomorrow night?”

  “We should be. Why, do you want to work?” he asks, playing with my hair.

  “Oh no, I was just making sure you didn’t need me. I got asked out on a date earlier, just needed to give him an answer.”

  He brushes my arm with his big hand. “Nah, we should be good. Go enjoy yourself.”

  I give him a slight smile. “Thanks, Wes.”

  He steps back, waving at me. I leave the parking lot and looking up, I notice him watching me leave. I shake it off, he probably is involved in this shit. I’m starving so I pull into a Sonic Drive-In down the street to order some food and read my message.

  I quickly order a hamburger combo and light a smoke.

  Tugging the paper from the envelope, it reads:

  Zanne,

  Your mother and I miss you very much. We were looking through some old photos while moving and found some you just have to see. Swing by our new place and we’ll catch up.

  Love,

  Daddy

  I have to giggle at the thought of him signing it “Daddy”. This has been the way we work. They leave me a note like they’re my parents, with key phrases and words. I need to go by and look at some new surveillance photos at our new warehouse. I cram the letter beside my seat and take the food as the girl gives it to me.

  Driving across town at this time of night is so much easier than during the day. Once I reach the warehouse, I punch in the code and drive in.

  The two wise guys behind the note are staring at me. Grabbing my food and drink, I get out of the car.

  Frank and Mitch look at me and Mitch speaks. “What, no food for us?”

  “Did you just have to take your clothes off in front of a bunch of horny pervs?” I glance around. “No, didn’t think so.” I pinch Mitch’s cheek. “Daddy.” I notice
the two large pizza boxes that are almost empty and shake my head.

  We all laugh for a few minutes while scarfing down some food. They pull out a bunch of pictures.

  Frank points to one of the photos. “So we think we have narrowed it down to Mike’s Gym.” I see some of the guys I know from the club. They’re regulars, but they weren’t there tonight.

  I nod, sipping from my drink. “Yeah, that guy,” I say pointing to one of the guys in the pictures from Mike’s, “he’s been known to get a little rough with a couple of the girls at the club. They’re pretty sure he’s got roid rage, along with a nose candy problem. None of the girls will be in a private room with him no matter how much money he offers, if that says anything.”

  Mitch studies me. “What does the club owner say about that? It can’t be good for business.”

  “It’s not and from what I gather, he’s not happy about it. He tries to talk every new girl into dancing for him but most of the other girls warn them as soon as they start, so he hasn’t had any luck. But I think I’ve found a little inside track.”

  Frank looks at me. “Well, are you going to share this with us?”

  I crunch on my ice, driving Mitch crazy. “Well, tonight I met some guys from another gym out of town just here for the fights. They’re from a gym down around Gainesville. Some of the guys from Mike’s sent them to the club tonight. They invited me to be their guest at the fights this weekend.”

  “Do you think they’re supplying or being mules for the locals?” Mitch asks, shoving a cold slice of pizza in his mouth.

  I roll my shoulders. “Not sure. I don’t think so, but I’ve been wrong before.” I think about the last guy I dated, back when I actually tried to date.

  “Do you feel good about going off with them tomorrow night?” Frank says, gathering up the pictures.

  “I told them I would meet them. You know I’m not keen on getting in the car with people who may or may not be involved, but these guys seem on the up and up. I can tell the one who did most of the talking tonight is the serious one. He’s who I’m ‘talking’ to.” I sit back in the chair, “They look laid back, not living above their means. The guys from here try to look like high rollers.”