Hooked (The Submission Fighter Book 1) by Sophia Hampton Read Free Book Online Page B

dispersed to wherever his coach was leading them.
     
    Micah poked his head out of the door, catching the attention of the security staff hired to man the locker rooms. “Hey, do me a favor, bro. Can you call the medic for me? Also, if a woman comes by named Alice, let her in. I don’t want any other visitors though, okay?” The burly security man nodded his head in understanding, as he went across the hall to the medic’s office for some help. 
     
    Micah slipped back into the locker room, ducking into the bathroom to wash off the rest of the blood from his neck and chest. The door behind him opened, as he continued to remove the grime. “Hey Martha. I think I’m going to need stitches or something. But can we just stick to a bandage. I’ll get it taken care of tomorrow.”
     
    “You should probably get that taken care of tonight.” The voice was unfamiliar, yet somehow ingrained in his memory. It was melodic, almost teasing. It certainly didn’t belong to the medic. Micah spun around, as he held the blood soaked towel to his cheek. Standing in the doorway was Alice. Dressed in red from almost head to toe, she looked like a glowing ember of a still lit fire. “I didn’t know you were hurt. I could come back or meet you later. I just wanted to get your autograph before you forgot,” she said.
     
    She turned backwards towards the door, but Micah was faster. He jumped over the bench and ran barefoot towards her, blocking the door with his body.
     
    “I certainly didn’t forget,” he responded. Alice stepped backwards, wary of how imposing he was now that she could see him in better light. Specks of fresh blood still lined his chest and new welts and bruises mingled with his black tribal tattoos. She wanted nothing more than to reach out her hands and trace the marks with her fingertips.
     
    “How bad is the gash on your face?” she asked.
     
    He removed the towel for her to study. She swallowed hard as images of her own battered face and body haunted her memories. Bravely, she stepped even closer, reaching out a hand to turn his jaw towards her. Her green eyes softened a bit, as she caught him wincing at her touch, as if he was equally afraid of what she may do to him.
     
    Alice blinked quickly and recovered. “You are going to need stitches. Where is the medic or your coach? Shouldn’t they be here attending to you?” she said. She turned her back towards him as he followed her light sway with his gaze. She placed herself down on the wooden bench as he joined by her side.
     
    “Medic is on her way. Coach, well, I kicked him out. I’m not in the mood for visitors,” he said. She felt a bit hurt and motioned to stand. He grabbed her arm once again, pulling her back towards him with his powerful grip. “I wouldn’t call you a visitor. I made a promise to you.”
     
    She smiled nervously, as she pulled out her ticket from her pocketbook and handed it to him. “Then, I’ll take your autograph and be out of your—” The door of the locker room spun open as the two turned to face the noise of shouting and yells.
     
    “What the hell, Micah! We need to talk. You can’t just kick me out of my own fighter’s locker room.” Dean was furious, his square face blushing and bulging with the rush of blood.       
     
    “Can you please move? I need to see him.” Martha, the medic from before was just a few paces behind Dean, carrying a medical kit, gloves, and an attitude. She pushed past Dean and headed straight towards Micah on the bench. Neither of the two seemed to notice the woman sitting on the bench.
     
    Dean continued to yell at Micah, scolding him for sticking security on him. Martha interjected a couple of times to remind him about wound care and his need to get stitches as soon as he was able. The noise and commotion bubbled to a fever pitch as more trainers and match officials slipped into the room, surrounding Micah and pushing Alice further and further away.
     
    Alice stood up,