Page 59 of Sucker Punch Drunk Love

Sondra placed her hand on her hip like she was tired of talking about it. “Sierra, I know how to raise a kid. Mónica wouldn't even exist if I hadn't,” she countered. “I’m careful, just…know that I’m careful.”

Grabbing my bag, I decided it was time to go. "Well, I have to catch the last train to Newark. So, I'm just gonna say goodbye to Mónica,” as I excused myself to kiss my daughter goodbye. Was it too soon or idealistic to consider taking Mónica back? I had some money, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to uproot her from Philly. Where did that leave my career? I’m sure Josue wouldn’t be willing to train me if I lived outside of Newark.

But then again, I couldn’t make a big decision like getting a place solely on whether he’d be willing to still work with me if my location happened to change. But I wouldn’t even have been able toconsiderother options if it hadn’t been for him.

I’d still be in a shelter and struggling without direction had it not been for him. I didn’t know what I was ready for, but for now, I had to focus on what waited for me next week.

Vegas.

***

“Oh fuck, Sierra. ¡Dime lo buena que soy, mami?*!” Josue demanded, an after-hours practice gone feral, in the cage. There’d been a lot on my mind, so we’d went an hour over, and honestly, nothing could have put my mind elsewhere than Josue slamming into me from behind. When we were fucking the shit out of each other, I didn’t worry about the future. I just worried about the now.

“Josue, I’m about to fucking come!” I announced, as his hips slow rolled against my backside, as we rode the wave together. Moans and groans of pleasure echoed in the empty gym, evenas our bodies came down from each other. It was like, we were never going to stop coming back for more. Like an addiction. Only addictions you could withdrawal from. I was sure there was no way getting Josue out my system.

“Ma, you really got me fucked up,” Josue laughed, reaching for his clothes. “Got me doing shit Ineverdo. The cage has always been my refuge, but never like this.” As he wrestled me before I could get my bra on, pulling me on his lap to steal a kiss.

“What was that all about?” Josue wondered, reminding me I had prompted this.

“I just needed to get my mind off things. Hope I’m not disrespecting the cage,” I said.

“It’ll be fine. But everything’s good back in Philly?” he asked with genuine concern.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Glad he didn't ask more for ask me for details. “So, my guess is, what you'retryingto avoid thinking about is what's a week away?” he asked, guessing correctly.

“Do you really think I'm ready for Vegas?”

“You better be,” Josue, locked eyes with mine. “Because best believe that DaCosta’s gonna sure as hell be ready for you.”

* Turn around

* Tell me how good I am, girl

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Josue

Even though we had made trips like this a dozen times, none of them ever felt like Vegas. What North Carolina was to NASCAR, Minnesota was for hockey, Vegas was definitely the hub for MMA. Nothing beat traveling the world, but when you were in Nevada, you felt something in the air change.

The DaCosta/Medina fight was big for Sierra. It was big for me as her trainer/manager. It was even bigger forHouse of Beast. So, there wasn't any doubt that I’d invited Héctor as my second. Something felt different about this one. Like it was a turning point. What happened over the next few days was going to change things. For good or bad, I couldn’t be sure.

To give Sierra the grand tour, I’d hired a driver service to have our stuff waiting for us at the hotel, while we stretched our legs, taking in downtown Vegas at its most extravagant. I'd seen it a bunch of times, so it wasn't new for me, but it waseverythingto Sierra.

She already looked at most things with wide-eyed enthusiasm, so seeing her expression change every time she saw something worthy of note, she’d stop to take pictures. We had alot of ground to cover, but we indulged her every time. She was the reason we were here, after all.

“Taking enough pictures, Medina?” I taunted, making note that this was our fourteenth pit stop.

“I've never been, I want to have a lot to show Mónica when I got back,” she defended.

“Don't take up too much of your phone's memory. Otherwise you won't have any space to capture that.” Pointing to the T-Mobile Arena, as under the LED lights, flashing fight promos hosted a familiar face.

“No way!” she held up her hands to her mouth.

“Yes, way!” I countered, as none of us had ever seen a display of her that grandiose for so many eyes to see. Sierra started screaming into her hands, and I could tell she had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

“We have to get a picture?—”