"Whoa, wait. I'm not reality show material," I said.
"Oh, forget about the cameras. I'm Sienna." She pressed against me and giggled.
I had to appreciate the firm curves of her body and her blatant exploitation of my appearance in the casino. Sienna was only skin-deep and easy to figure out. I wrapped an arm around her waist and pretended the cameras were not there.
"You look like you could be a good lucky charm," I said.
"Want me to blow on some dice for you?" Sienna asked.
I laughed loudly and paraded the reality show blonde farther into the casino. Kya looked up from her video poker machine. Despite the outpouring of her winnings, she frowned at me. It was not what I intended, but it certainly had grabbed her attention. She was not the only one that could pursue other angles.
Over Sienna's wriggles and giggles, I watched Kya brush off Jackson McRay. He looked ready to punch someone until a horde of short-skirted fans surrounded him. Kya disappeared from the casino. I suffered another half an hour of Sienna draped over me and vamping for the cameras. Then, I unhooked her arms from my neck and headed upstairs.
The bright white decor of the luxury suite was lit only by the fireplace. Outside the wide windows all of Las Vegas sparkled. Kya's door was shut tight. I wanted to knock on it, but instead, I stood in front of the view. Las Vegas surprised me. I loved it. Minutes from the neon and faux explosion of the Strip was the desert. And, in between all the tourists and vacation facades, there were real people working hard. For one moment, I was content. I could stay put. The suite was silent and comfortable, Kya was in the other room safe and sound, and I felt good.
Instead of waking her up and ruining everything with words, I went to my room. There in the middle of the bed, was a stuffed black cat toy with a red ribbon around its neck. Kya had scribbled a quick note:
Saw your tattoo and thought you might like this. Who says black cats are unlucky? You don't need luck; we all know you're going to win. – Kya
I tucked the black cat under my arm. The black cat tattoo was entwined in the skin art all over my back, bits and pieces from my life. Somehow, Kya knew the cat meant more to me than my first motorcycle, the first cash I won fighting, or my first pair of boxing gloves. She had seen straight through all the skulls and roses, the stone angel and guns and picked out the one thing that summed up my entire childhood.
My mother's sweet black cat, Lucy. That cat lay on her bed, purred, and kept her warm, until she passed away.
"Don't believe what people say about black cats
, Fenton," my mother had said. "Luck isn't real, good or bad. It's all up to you."
I carried Kya's gift with me to the fight the next day.
"A mascot, I like it," Kev said. "Let's bring the black cat to the ring, let it get in Maxwell Lewis' head."
I smiled. "Go team."
There was a commotion outside the locker room. Kev yelled at someone outside the door. "No one's coming in. No one!"
"Who was it?" I asked.
"Not Kya Allen, if that's what's got you worried," Kev said. "She told me she's watching it on the big screen in the casino."
I jumped up and down and tried to stay focused.
Kev continued. "I just figured you didn't want a whole reality show swarming around before you head out to the ring."
"Sienna?" I asked.
"Yup. Said she'll catch up with you after the fight. Just let me know if you want me to take her off your hands."
Kev then launched into an entire storyline of what he would do with Sienna and how the cameras would have to stop rolling almost immediately. I welcomed his normal drone and got myself pumped up for the fight.
"You ready for this? You're ready for this," Aldous said.
"I am. And when this one's done, let’s sign that endorsement deal. It’s time to take things to the next level," I said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Kya
Maxwell Lewis was hard. He answered every move Fenton made with a lightning fast combination. The two fighters hardly broke apart. Instead, they locked together time and again. I watched through my splayed fingers.