Hooked (The Submission Fighter Book 1) by Sophia Hampton

arm around Micah like a proud father as he stood in the center of the ring.
     
    “What are you doing, Dean?” Micah whispered as his frustration and suspicions built.
     
    Dean looked up at him, his arm still draped over his shoulder. “What do you think I am doing? I’m making you famous. Now that you’re back to normal, you’re gonna be a superstar.” He patted him on his back, as he walked away towards his office.
     
    The words back to normal rang in Micah’s head. How could he be normal now when every part of him was somewhere else, somewhere in Alice’s bedroom begging her to return? The realization hit him like a ton of bricks.
     
    Micah followed the man, jumping out of the ring to catch up. He kicked open the coach’s door, not caring who would see or notice. Micah’s voice shot through the small cinderblock space, “I don’t want it Dean. I don’t want all of this fake bullshit.”
     
    “Yeah, you do. This is part of the game, Micah.” Dean sat back in his leather reclining desk chair, studying the boy he practically raised in the ring. “There’s sacrifices we all have to make.”
     
    “You mean like Alice! What the fuck did you do to her?” Micah grabbed the man by the collar, raising him to his feet. Dean stepped back, distancing himself from the clear danger in front of him.
     
    Dean responded defensively, “I didn’t do anything to her. I told her the truth. I told her that she was a distraction and that you were risking your career focusing on her instead of the matches. And I was right, wasn’t I?”
     
    Micah began to walk the distance of the office, shocked at this man’s ability to put the match before anyone’s happiness. Dean returned to his desk, sitting back at the chair, facing away from the steaming Micah.
     
    “She was just some random piece of tail,” Dean said, irritated. “There’ll be others. Why get so wrapped up in that little cu—” Dean’s obscenity was cut-off as he had only a second to glance at the tattooed fist landing on his face, slumping him off of his chair and onto the floor. He withered in pain, cursing loudly.
     
    Micah began to run, outstretching his fingers as he went. Adrenaline had pumped back into his veins as he could feel the fire. As the gym goers all watched the door of the coach’s office, he slipped out, running out the door and past the parking lot. He turned the corner, past the photographer packing up his gear into his car.
     
    He kept running. The pavement jumped under his feet as the blistering sun beat down on his shirtless back. His head was clear, his mind made up. Each step was one closer. Each mile was one more he could leave behind.
     
    The streets became more familiar as he entered the town of Steubenville. The sports arena became more visible as he could hear her voice in the distance cry out to him, “You better win.” He passed the Tick Tock Diner where he could glance a blur of Caroline waitressing a table. Alice, however, was not there.
     
    He instead moved on, circling her street, waiting for someone, anyone to come. After several minutes, an older woman exited the brick apartment building, leaving the door open for a quick Micah to dash in. He raced up the stairs and tapped quietly on the door. He could hear her footsteps move inside the apartment. Her shadow told him that she was right outside the door.
     
    “Alice! Alice! I know you are in there. I know you can hear me.” He yelled into the door, unsure if he was even right. “I know what Dean said to you. I know you want to believe him and protect me. But he was wrong. He was wrong!”
     
    He pounded his fist into the painted wood. Alice jumped on the other side. Her head had been against the door, nervously listening to his shouts.
     
    “Alice. I swear if you do not let me in, I will break down this door.” She stepped back, unsure of what to do. She could certainly believe that he was serious with his threats. He began to count a warning,