Fight for Her

by Kelly Favor

  “I’m telling the truth,” she lied.

  His eyes narrowed, and she thought for sure that he’d seen through her.

  But then the ghost of a smile crossed his features. “What’s your name?” he said.

  “Krista.”

  “Krista…”

  “Krista Everett.” That much, at least, was true. She’d already thought about whether it was safe to tell him, and she was fairly certain that none of her information was on the UFF website or in any public domain. After all, the job was brand new and she’d barely had time to decorate her office, let alone hit the social media circles with the news.

  She thought it unlikely that Gunner would do an in-depth web search on her name, but just in case, she would make sure to wipe out any association between her name and the UFF tonight, as soon as she got someplace with Wi-Fi.

  This is bad, Krista, a little voice said in the back of her mind.

  But she couldn’t help it. She finally saw a glimmer of hope—not just hope that she might be able to salvage her job, or perhaps convince Gunner not to blow up his entire career that he’d worked so long to build, but also that she might continue to be around him.

  She didn’t want this to be the last time she ever saw him. And somehow, that was more important than anything else.

  Gunner walked closer and closer to her, to the point where she could see the tiny beads of sweat on his forehead, the mud caked on his work boots. He studied her as he ran a hand through his fine brown hair. “Listen to me,” he said.

  “I’m listening,” she managed. This near to him, it was difficult to even breathe, let alone speak.

  “I’ll take a few hours tomorrow and talk to you. But I’m not promising anything.

  Whatever you might imagine I can do for you—I can’t. I’m just a guy like anybody else.”

  “Can we talk now?” she said.

  “No.” His eyes didn’t waver, and he didn’t bother saying why he wouldn’t do it now.

  There was an awkward silence, and she looked away. “That’s fine, I was just thinking it might be easier to get it over with.”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he reiterated. “Do you go to school nearby?”

  Her mind stalled, as she couldn’t seem to recall what colleges were in the area.

  She opened her mouth like a fish out of water. “Yeah, I—I’m not sure you want to come to my school. That would create pandemonium,” she said, struggling to give herself time to come up with an excuse.

  He laughed. “I wasn’t planning on coming to your school,” he said. “I just wanted to find a good location to meet with you.”

  “I’m actually staying nearby,” she said.

  “Where?”

  “I got a room at the Middle River Inn.”

  Gunner’s brow furrowed. “Why would you bother doing that? I thought you went to school around here.”

  Finally, it occurred to her. “I go to school in Boston, so it’s a pretty long drive and I wanted to give myself some time to find you and…”

  He shook his head, seemingly bemused by her persistence. “Okay, let’s keep this simple. Why don’t we meet for coffee at the Inn—they have booths with decent privacy, and if we start early enough, there shouldn’t be many people around. Let’s shoot for eight o’clock.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “That would be fantastic,” she said.

  “I’ll give you the interview,” he said. “But if I don’t like where it’s going, I’ll pull the plug, Krista.”

  “I understand.”

  “As long as we understand each other.”

  She nodded and turned to go to the car.

  “Krista,” he called out.

  She turned around and found him staring at her. “Yes?”

  “Don’t screw me on this,” he said. “I’m taking a big risk in trusting you.”

  “I won’t,” she said, but her voice faltered a little bit.

  After all, she already had.

  ***

  The Middle River Inn was more like an old colonial house than anything else.

  There was a small front desk area that could have passed for a coatroom, and the older couple that ran the place were charming and friendly people.

  “Are you in town for the fall festival?” Shelly, the wife asked, as she took Krista’s credit card and ran it through a machine that looked hundreds of years old.

  “Among other things,” Krista said, not wanting to be pinned down to any one particular reason.

  That’s the life of a liar, she scolded herself.

  Shelly smiled warmly. “People come from all over for the fall festival. We have the biggest pumpkins in the country!”

  Her husband, Ben, was somewhat hard of hearing. He wore glasses and seemed to do a lot of little maintenance things. At one point, he wandered by with two light bulbs in his hands. Then he looked down. “Now which is the old one and which is the new one?” he said aloud, and then kept going.

  “Does the restaurant open early?” Krista asked, as Shelly handed her the room key.

  “Six o’clock sharp, every morning. Cole runs it like a Swiss watch. Very efficient, best coffee in town.”

  “Perfect,” Krista replied. Of course, best coffee in town didn’t mean much when it was also the only coffee in town. But she kept that comment to herself.

  She made her way up to her room on the second floor. It was serviceable, and the room smelled clean, even if the wallpaper looked like it was from the 1800’s.

  There was a small desk, a wooden chair, a bed and an old-fashioned TV on a stand by the wall. Krista went to the window near the desk and looked outside. She could see Main Street below, and a few cars passed by as she watched through the glass.

  It really was a cute town, even if it was way too small for her. She preferred the glitz and glamour and excitement of Vegas.

  Pulling out her laptop, she was able to log onto the Wi-Fi under a password that Shelly and Ben had left on a piece of paper taped to the desk lamp. Krista immediately sent Drew Ellis, the CEO of the UFF, a carefully worded email explaining that she’d made contact with Gunner.

  Literally seconds later, her cell phone rang.

  “Hey, it’s me,” Drew said, his words clipped, since everything he did was rushed, including how he pronounced things.

  “I just sent you an email,” she began.

  “No shit. You think it’s a coincidence I called just now? Tell me the details.”

  She could hear him breathing through his nostrils into the phone. Drew Ellis was intimidating and frightening. He was not just powerful in the fight industry, but he was also rich and famous. She’d only met him a handful of times, and Krista was desperate not to upset him.

  Drew was even scarier when he was angry. She’d seen him make a grown man cry her first day on the job and that had told her all she needed to know about pissing off the boss.

  She started to explain everything that had happened when she’d first met Gunner, but Drew rushed her along, not wanting to hear about the dog almost biting her or any of the little things that had occurred.

  It was when she got to the part where she’d claimed to be a journalist that he stopped her cold.

  “Wait, back up,” Drew said. “You told him you’re a journalist?”

  She bit her lip, waiting to be fired. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “You were supposed to go there as a representative of the UFF and try to talk some sense to this fool.”

  “I know, but if you’d seen the look on his face…”

  “So what’s your plan, then? Do you even have one?” Drew said.

  Krista was sweating as she tried to put it into words. “I thought that maybe if he started to trust me, you know…maybe I could find a way to slowly talk him into going back to Las Vegas. He seemed receptive to talking to me as a journalist. We’re meeting tomorrow morning,” she said, hoping to show that the trip hadn’t been a complete bust as of yet.

  There was a lon
g silence. She waited again to be fired, or at least screamed at for being a complete idiot and ignoring her orders.

  “You know what?” Drew said, finally, giggling. “I actually kind of love it.

  That’s creative. Very creative.” He giggled some more. “If I’d known how manipulative and devious you were when I hired you, I’d have paid you more,” Drew laughed.

  Krista tried to smile, but she didn’t really like the tone of Drew’s compliment. “I intend to come clean with him eventually,” she said.

  “Oh, sure. That’ll go over great.”

  “I’m going to tell him eventually. But first I need him to let his guard down a little.”

  “Whatever it takes,” Drew said.

  “Sure, just so long as I don’t cross any more lines,” she said. “I feel bad enough that I lied to him about being a journalist.”

  “Listen, we’re going to lose millions on the pay-per-view that he backed out of.

  Millions. People are going to lose their jobs. Heads will roll. And nobody’s going to get it worse than Gunner King, if he keeps going down this road he’s on. You’re doing him a fucking favor, Krista.”

  “I know, but I feel bad—“

  “Feeling bad is a waste of time. You went with your instincts, and they must have been good, because he agreed to talk to you, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, then—whatever it takes. Do whatever it takes.”

  “Yeah, of course. Now, if for some reason I can’t get him to go back to Vegas to fight—“

  “If you can’t get Gunner back, you best not come back either.”

  She sat there, stunned. There was silence on the other end. “Are you serious, Drew?” she asked.

  “I’m dead fucking serious. Come back with Gunner, or find another line of work, Krista. It’s pretty simple. Whatever it takes.” And then he hung up on her.

  ***

  That night, she had a dream.

  She’d fallen into a pit of quicksand in the jungle. Only, it couldn’t have really been the jungle, because her parents were sitting on the couch watching her struggle. Her dad had a TV remote and was trying to change the channel. “Why won’t she get out of there?” he asked.

  Krista’s mother just shook her head and closed her eyes. “Turn it, I hate watching people drown!” she cried.

  Meanwhile, Krista was already up to her chest in quicksand, and the dark, thick mud was slowly sucking her down. She was terrified, but tried to keep calm.

  Somewhere, she remembered hearing that the more you struggled, the quicker you were submerged.

  She tried to struggle less, but the urge to fight and scream and thrash was almost overpowering.

  She couldn’t see him, but she heard Drew Ellis giggling, his voice echoing as if from above her somewhere.

  And then Gunner King was standing there, dressed the same as he’d been when she’d seen him that day—jeans, work boots, white t-shirt. “Give me your hand,” he said.

  “I can’t,” she said. “I’m stuck.”

  “I’ll come in after you,” he told her. “Hold on.”

  But she was sinking quickly, now. The quicksand was at her neck, and then moments later, her chin. She was going to scream soon.

  Gunner dove into the quicksand, headfirst. She was terrified that he was going to drown doing that, but somehow, he was able to swim and soon his arms were wrapping around her. She’d never felt arms so strong and protective before. As he pulled her out of the swamp, she cried in gratitude.

  “Don’t you know I’d do anything for you?” he whispered in her ear.

  “I have something to tell you,” she said.

  “It’s okay, I know what you did.”

  “You do?”

  His hand caressed her cheek softly. “Just be careful, Krista. I might not be here next time to save you.”

  And then he walked away, and as he faded into the darkness of the jungle, she tried to run after him, and in doing so, fell into another swamp. This time, as she began to sink, Krista knew that nobody was coming for her.

  And the darkness took her. The quicksand went in her mouth, flooding her windpipe, choking her, taking her breath away.

  She awoke, a scream barely stifled in her throat, sitting up in bed and clutching her blanket. Her chest rose and fell quickly as she realized where she was.

  The fear from the dream was rather slow to dissipate, which was strange.

  Usually, when Krista had a nightmare like that, she found that the anxiety went away almost as soon as she woke up and realized she was safe.

  But not this time. She was unable to shake the feeling of fear that had wrapped around her in the night.

  It was early, but not too early. She got out of bed and went to the bathroom for a shower and to get dressed and ready for her big talk with Gunner.

  She was alternately excited and fearful of what was to come. Krista wanted to see Gunner, wanted to be near him. She thought about his voice, the look in his eye, and the way he moved. He was sexier and more intimidating than any man she’d ever met, and as Krista showered, she grew excited thinking about him.

  Don’t even go there, she told herself, as the hot water sprayed her body. Gunner has supermodels chasing him, and yet he’s out in the mountains by himself. That should tell you something about the kind of standards he has. You don’t have a chance with him.

  And besides, I’m here to do a job, she thought.

  She dried off and then got dressed in a simple but flattering outfit—dark jeans, heels, and a gray cardigan sweater. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror as she applied a light amount of makeup.

  Krista was dark haired, and her hair was her favorite feature. It was silky smooth, full, and long. The rest of her she could take or leave. After being in Vegas, it was hard not to be critical of yourself. If you didn’t have D cups and platinum blond hair, you felt like an ugly duckling.

  As she put the finishing touches to her makeup, it was hard not to feel a little bit self-conscious about what Gunner would think of her.

  Is it crazy that part of me is hoping he finds me attractive?

  Well, no, she thought, washing her hands and then drying them on a cute little monogrammed towel. Almost every woman in this situation would hope that Gunner would find them attractive.

  What’s crazy is thinking it’s even a remote possibility.

  And the truth was, she didn’t think that. She knew that her feelings for him were based on the fact that he was smolderingly sexy and physically powerful. Women were genetically wired to be attracted to such things. It didn’t mean that there was a real connection between them, or any real mutual interest.

  What there was, she told herself, as she got her purse and readied herself to go downstairs to the restaurant, was a job to do.

  And if she failed at it, she’d be looking for a new one all too soon.

  ***

  The restaurant was open, but there wasn’t a lot of traffic just yet.

  There was a lunch counter with bar stools in front of it, an open seating section with some tables, and then a row of booths that was set apart from the other tables by a wide aisle.

  When she first arrived, a guy just a few years older than her with light blond hair and blue eyes gave her a little wave. “What can I do you for?”

  She was relieved to note that Gunner wasn’t there yet, which would give her some time to prepare mentally. “I’m just going to have some coffee. I’m waiting for a friend.”

  “Sit wherever you like,” he said, gesturing to the entire restaurant, before taking a cloth and wiping down the counter.

  An old man eating an egg sandwich and reading the paper, said something inaudible, and the younger man nodded and smiled at him.

  As she walked to one of the booths, she saw another guy that could have been the blond man’s twin working the stove in the kitchen. There was a wide pass through between the kitchen and the front of the restaurant, and so you could see what was going
on in back.

  It was all very old fashioned here, she thought. Middle River was like the town that time forgot or something.

  She grabbed the furthest booth in the back and sat down.

  A moment later, the blond man came by and slapped a mug down on the table, expertly filling it to the brim with steaming black coffee. “Cream and sugar’s on your left,” he said. “I’m Cole and I’ll be serving you.”

  “Can I ask you a question?” she said.

  “Sure.” He waited for her to speak.

  “Is that your brother working in the kitchen?”

  “Yeah, that’s Caden,” he said, grinning. “People think we’re twins, but actually I’m the older one by two years. And smarter, by the way. He’s just good at flipping pancakes.”

  Krista laughed. “Sibling rivalry?”

  “Of course. It’s what gets me through the day. When your friend comes by, I’ll stop over again,” he said. “Otherwise, give me a holler if you need anything.”

  Cole strode purposefully off to deal with other customers. The place wasn’t exactly filling up with people, but one or two were coming in now, in dribs and drabs.

  Many of them were older folks who sat at the counter and seemed to enjoy shooting the breeze with Cole.

  Krista sipped at her coffee and tried to calm her jangling nerves, which were getting worse by the second. She was starting to get the feeling that maybe Gunner had never really intended on meeting her this morning for an interview. It had all been an act in order to get her to leave his house.

  God, how humiliating, she thought, her stomach churning. She pushed her mug away and put a hand on her forehead.

  Of course he said whatever he needed to say to get you to leave him alone. He probably thought you were crazy. He values his privacy, can you blame him?

  She couldn’t really blame him at all.

  But then there was a tinkling as the door opened, and instead of another retiree coming in to sit at the counter, Gunner strode inside.

  Her heart leapt in her chest and started galloping a mile a minute.

  Gunner nodded to Cole, who was filling coffee mugs for a couple seated near the window. “Hey,” Cole said, upon seeing Gunner. “You want the usual?”