I sit quietly while everyone chatters around me. The hair guy, Andrew, does his final curl before running his fingers through it. “Beautiful,” he declares with a flick of his wrist and a large grin. “You’ve got such gorgeous hair. Take my card, and if you want to ever do anything fun with it, you call me. I’d be honored to style it.”
“I…um…well, thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.” I take his card, and when I look at myself in the mirror, I’m stunned. I look like me, but a girlier version.
“Hey, how are you holding up?” Harley comes over to stand beside me, grabbing my hand.
“I’m nervous, scared. What if people don’t believe me?” I concentrate on not biting my lip. I don’t want to mess up their makeup job.
Harley squeezes my hand. “We believe you, and we all know there will be assholes who won’t believe, but…” She leans in. “Fuck them.”
It makes me laugh and she smiles and hugs me. “Thank you.”
Rob comes over to me and Harley kisses my cheek before she leaves us. “How are you holding up?”
I shake my head. “I’m a nervous wreck, but ready.”
“Good. We’ve made sure to review any questions they might ask. They know what lines they can’t cross, and if they do, we’re out of there. Just speak from the heart and share whatever you want—this is your story to share.” I nod, and then he pulls me into a hug. “You’ve got this. We’re all here for you.”
I look to the side and find Jack and Harley, Del and Reece, Erick, Marcus, Carrie, and Egan, and of course Gio and Dalton. Shayla called me this morning and she wanted to share why she wasn’t coming. My heart broke for her, hearing her share what her ex-husband had done to her. I totally understand that hearing my story, albeit different, could be triggering for her.
Dalton starts walking toward me. God, he is gorgeous. He’s wearing a white chambray with the sleeves rolled up. His bootcut jeans hug his fine ass and doesn’t hide that he’s packing some serious heat between his legs.
He catches me staring and gives me a wink and a smile. My heart flutters in my chest and my face heats up. Is it possible to fall in love in a short period of time? I’ve never been in love, but I know what I feel for Dalton is strong.
“Ms. McNeal, it’s time.” A woman with a headset comes into the room.
I take a deep breath and get up, following her to the door.
“Good luck, Becca,” Erik says.
Del calls out, “You’ve got this, girl.”
A hand grabs my arm and I turn to find Gio standing there. “I’m so proud of you.” He leans in, kissing my cheek. “You’ll be great.”
“T-Thanks Gio, for everything.”
He steps back and Dalton approaches me. “We’ll be right there, watching from the side.” I’m surprised when he leans down, kissing me softly on the lips, but he pulls away all too soon.
“Thank you for being here.” I smile up at him and then follow the assistant.
It takes about ten minutes to mic me, check the lighting, and adjust the cameras before the hosts, Margot and Paul, sit across from me, talking quietly to each other.
I fidget as people bustle around and try to hold still when the makeup girl touches up my lips and adds more gloss.
When it’s time to start, everyone hustles about until it’s just the hosts and I. Margot smiles at me and leans forward. “The best advice I can give you is just focus on us, not the cameras.”
I nod and grab my glass of water off the little side table, taking a sip.
The camera man starts the count and then it begins.
“Good morning, Chicago. We have got an exclusive live interview with MMA up and comer, Becca “The Beast” McNeal. We’ve all heard the story from James Mason, Becca’s former coach—well now, it’s Becca’s turn,” Margot says.
Paul nods. “Yes, thank you, Becca for wanting to respond to his allegations against you.”
“Ahem…th-thank you for having me.” I clasp my hands together so they can’t seem them tremble.
“Why don’t you go ahead and tells us your story.”
I lean forward and grab the glass of water, taking another sip. “James Mason became my coach two weeks before my sixteenth birthday. He’d seen an amateur fight I did and contacted my father, who was my manager at the time. He thought I had potential to make it big.” I swallow hard.
“At first I was so excited because he had a reputation of being the best and that’s what I wanted to be. Training with him quickly became a nightmare.” I shake my head. “He was demanding and would punish me if I didn’t get moves right, or if he thought I wasn’t giving him a hundred percent.” I looked down, then remembered I was supposed to look at Margot and Paul.
“It started with insults. He’d call me a dumb…um, B word. He called me fat and lazy. It escalated to slaps to the back of the head, grabbing my arm hard enough to leave bruises. Sometimes, he’d restrict my caloric intake to such a small amount, I’d pass out during workouts.”
Margot leans forward. “How did your dad handle that?”
Shame fills me because he did nothing and that’s what I tell them. “He said James was just trying to toughen me up, that it would make me a better fighter.” My heart starts to race. “I was sixteen the first time he assaulted me. We were training one night and it was just he and I at the gym—my dad was out schmoozing his buddies. We had just finished and I was in the girls’ locker room, showering.
“They’d had a lock on the girls’ locker room and I had locked it before I got undressed. I remember when I was showering, I felt like someone was watching me. I hurried up and finished, and then went to my locker. It all happened so fast, he knocked me to the ground, and he was too strong for me to fight him off.” I censor myself a bit because I know this is hard to hear for some people. “When it was over, he told me if I ever told anyone that he’d hurt me.”
“Is that the only time it happened?” Paul asks.
I shake my head. “No, it happened two more times before my father found out and fired him.”
“Why did you continue to train with him after what he did?” Margot asks.
“Because I was young and stupid. I was convinced if I trained harder then maybe he’d stop. My father only found out because James was rougher with me the last time and I had fingerprint bruises all over my arms and legs.” I gulped.
“My dad wanted it to go away without a big fuss being made. He was convinced that it would ruin my career if I went to the police. I know now that I should’ve went because I’d never forgive myself if he hurt someone else because I didn’t speak up.”
“If you could say one thing to James, what would it be?”
Hundreds of things go through my mind, but then I turn to look right at the camera. “James, you no longer have power over me. How dare you lie about me, you know what you did, and you will never hurt me or anyone else again.”
“Thank you, Becca, for coming in and talking to us today.” I nod. “We’ll be right back with your seven-day forecast.”
I see the light go off on top of the camera and then an assistant is coming over to remove my mic. They thank me for coming and then Dalton comes right to me, pulling me into his arms. “You’re an amazing woman.” I wrap my arms around him, letting him hold me.
Everyone keeps their space afterward, which I’m grateful for. I’m feeling a little raw at the moment. We don’t stick around long, and they sneak me out the back entrance.
I stare out the window, watching the passing scenery and suddenly feeling exhausted.
I’m scared to even look at my phone to see what people are saying—do they stand with me or think I brought it on myself? Did James see the report? Does he know I’ve told everyone?
By the time we get back to Dalton’s I’m ready for a nap.