Free Dirty Fighter: A Bad Boy MMA Romance by Roxy Sinclaire, Natasha Tanner Page A

feeling my hands pound into someone. It was the literal definition of a guilty pleasure.
    “Think you could do that again?” he asked, smiling without looking at me.
    “Yes sir,” I said, I wasn’t bragging, maybe I should have bragged a little.
    “Alright, we’ve got a line of fights we’re planning, want to be part of my crew?” he asked looking over to me.
    “Yes sir, that would be great,” I admitted. “How soon would my first fight be?” I asked.
    “Within the next couple weeks, and you need to get yourself an actual phone,” he added. He turned to grab an envelope and instead grabbed four. “These are all for you, I want you to see I’m investing in you,” he said, showing more faith in me than I had in myself at the time.
    “Yes sir,” I replied.
    I started to head out, and was approached by a handful of other people offering me positions, but I was already spoken for. I never considered shopping around.
    My first official fight was a few weeks later and I made a flat thousand off it.
    A thousand bucks for beating the shit out of another human being that I definitely saw as my father.
    I can’t say I really had anything to complain about.

13

Brooklyn
    L ife is hilarious .
    I can’t think of any other word that could describe it better, it’s amazing. One day I’m living in a small town in Podunk Nowhere, and the next thing I know I’ve got my own condo in Hollywood Hills with movie offers pouring in faster than water.
    My first film was based off a book series I had never read and even after I finished filming I still didn’t bother to pick it up. It didn’t matter if you understood the book, or if you were exactly like the characters, people would always complain about the difference. It was a fun project about a girl who shot arrows that pierced time and space, just nerdy enough to fill what was a growing movie scene at the time.
    I didn’t think I would make it so big this quickly.
    Chet flew me out, making sure I got headshots before we left New York. Within a couple weeks I had an offer, and within a month we were filming. Filming! A movie! I had always been a performer. I had been in cheerleading, talent shows, anything I could get my hands on. I was always surprised my mom hadn’t tried to put me through pageants.
    When I bought my condo the movie hadn’t even premiered yet.
    Yet here I was, a “budding actress” who already had her hands on primo real estate.
    The filming wasn’t even that difficult—the time I put into it and the perks I got out of it, were nowhere near worth what I was paid for it, but you sure as hell weren’t going to find me complaining. For once in my life everything was as smooth as could be; my dad dying was the best damn thing that had ever happened to me.
    Although probably not the best for my mom.
    More than once I’d get home, greeted by my kitty Jelly Bean that I’d gotten the moment I had my own place, and I’d have huge stacks of letters from her and voicemails that seemed to be waiting to swallow me. It was always the same thing.
    “Baby, baby I miss you. I saw that you’re going to be in a movie! You should come visit your mommy now!”
    “Brooklyn! I need your help please. God they think I’m crazy and they’re driving me there, please call me back. Please help me.”
    “Honey, nobody knows, it’s safe, please come back to me, I miss you so so much, I think about you all the time.”
    It was awful.
    From what I could glean from the dozens of messages she’d left, the cop had dropped her on the spot. He didn’t want to have it on his name, and he didn’t want to be a part of the drama. My mom got the best damn lawyers the money she had access to could buy. Even the best lawyers could only get you so far though.
    She was forced into pleading insanity, saying it was self-defense.
    There had been rumors around town for years. I’d heard them, that my mother was running into one too many doors, if you know what I mean. They’d peer