by Emilia Finn
“It was Mac’s penis!” she shouts after him. “Your best friend’s penis touched your sister’s you-know-what!”
The door swings open, then closed, and still, Smalls’ laughter filters from the hall.
“You’re gonna send him to an early grave.” I steal the mug from her hands and place it on the counter, then I spin her to me and grin.
I’ve spent the last twenty minutes making sure the blanket remains secure, but now I open it up and step into her warmth. It’s like a furnace in here, so when she wraps her arms around my neck and closes it up again, I can only bury my face against her neck and absorb the heat that she gifts me with.
“You told her you loved me?”
“Mm.” She arches her neck so I can sample. “I did. I told her a bunch of times.”
“Like when?” I’m so fuckin’ needy.
“Like when you were in the hospital for your heart, and you didn’t wake up for what felt like forever. She asked me why I wouldn’t leave. I told her.”
I frown. “You were thirteen.”
She shrugs. “My heart had already decided. I told her again when you needed that procedure for your lungs. Again, she asked why I wouldn’t leave to give you and your mom time together. I told her it was because I loved you, and therefore, I’d earned that place by your bed.”
“You were still thirteen.”
She laughs. “Actually, I was fourteen. I’d had my birthday while you were in hospital that first time. Even so, I knew what I knew. I wasn’t walking away.”
“And after that? When did you say it?”
“Are you fishing for compliments?”
“Yes.” I wish I wasn’t, but here I am anyway, begging to be told I’m lovable. “I want to know how long. I wanna know what I missed.”
Pulling back, but only a little to rest her forehead on my chest, she slides the tips of her fingers along my ribs. “Um… the next time was probably sometime around my high school graduation. I was supposed to apply to the same college Smalls went to, but that would have meant leaving you. I told my mom and daddy no. They asked why, so I told them.”
“You told your dad that you loved me?”
She nods. “He already knew. Just like he’ll already know when I talk to him today. But still, he’s my daddy, so he gets to hear it from me, and not through rumors.”
“You’re not gonna…” I hesitate. “Like… no details or anything, right?”
She bursts out laughing. “I don’t think he wants, nor needs, to know the details. That’s for me and you… and maybe Ben, when I want to hurt him. But I want to tell him about us. I want him to see my eyes when I tell him.” Finally, she pulls back to peek into my eyes. “He raised a daughter that wasn’t even his. He loved me, cared for me, trained me, kissed my injuries, and helped me stand every time I got knocked down… All for a baby girl that wasn’t his.” She smiles. “He deserves every thanks I can give him. So this is one of those things. And when you ask me to marry you, I’ll ask him to escort me. To hand me over. To dance with me. It’s his duty, his gift for loving me.”
“Such a sweetheart.” I press a kiss to the center of her forehead. “It’s easy to love you. Trust me, I know.”
She snickers.
“It’s almost out of our control. We meet you, and we love you. It’s just the way it is, so when you thank him, he’s going to be confused about why you think you need to say it in the first place. Then when he figures it out, he’s going to double down and love you some more, because you deserve it.” I pull back and break the seal of the blanket, sucking frigid air between us, and sending goosebumps to her skin until she curls in and squeaks. “Want a shower?”
Her squealing stops, and her eyes snap to mine. “With you?”
I laugh. “No, with the mannerless dog. Yes, with me!”
“Don’t joke about it.” She wraps the blanket around herself and follows me into the hall… as does Deck. “He’ll climb in and bite your ass when there’s not enough room.”
“Absolutely not.” I follow her into my tiny bathroom and stop at the door when the dog tries to gallop in. I place a hand in front of his face. “No, Deck. Sit.”
He sits.
“Lay down.”
He lifts his butt, only to sit again.
“Whatever. We’ll be back.”
Lucy
Secrets
We head straight to the gym, since our shower has us running a little late. I wondered if seeing each other naked outside of bed would seem a little… scary. But it really wasn’t. I was already naked, so I got to climb straight into the hot water and watch Mac nervously strip down.
Then I got to make him do all the work when he stepped in, picked me up, and together, we learned what shower sex feels like.
Side note: it’s not as much fun as bed sex.
It’s great, of course. But all that soap, all that water. All of the potential to fall on our asses and break our necks.
Once we got out – at a perfectly reasonable time – and he rushed around in the cold, pulling on clothes, I was the one left naked and nervous.
“Where are my panties?” I asked, freezing cold, goosebumps all over my skin. “Mac?” I shouted into the hall. “Where’d you put my panties?”
“With the rest of your clothes.” He walked into the room in his Rollin On sweatpants and hoodie, warm as toast with sex-messed hair and a roguish glint in his eyes. “No, wait. I tossed them onto the floor with my clothes last night.”
“I can’t find them.”
I grabbed his blankets, his sheets, his pillows. Tossed them around. I got onto my hands and knees, and threatened to kneecap my boyfriend – Boyfriend? Lover? Good lord, my sexual accomplice? – if he didn’t help me find them, and because Deck is such a sweetheart, he tried digging under the bed too.
“Mac, I can’t find them! I can’t leave your apartment without my effing panties.” I spun around and looked him up and down while he stood in the doorway. “Empty out your pockets.”
“I don’t have them!” he burst out laughing. “I didn’t steal your fuckin’ panties, Lucy.” He paused, lifted a brow. “Though I can’t say I would never do that. But I didn’t today, I swear.”
“Mac.” I sat back on my ass. Deck sat with me. We both sighed. “I don’t know where they are. I can’t go to my gym without panties. I can’t tell my family you and I are together without underwear. That’s too much. Too far. Oh god.” I rocked for a moment as panic clawed at my stomach.
Deck did too; rocked, not the panic thing.
“God, Mac. We’re together.” I opened my eyes and met his. “We’re together?”
My heart stopped and caused literal pain when he hesitated. When his eyes changed to something darker. Scarier. When he tried to think up an excuse to send me home without irreparably hurting my feelings.
But then he nodded. Smiled. And kneeled down in front of me. “It would seem that I can’t give you up. I can’t stay away. And now I know what being with you feels like, I would die if I had to know you, but never have that again, so…” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my lips. “Yeah, if you’ll have me. I’d really fucking love to call you mine. The rest…” He waved a hand toward the door. “Whatever. We’ll figure it out. But I swear, if we’re down to our last can of beans, last drop of milk, last blanket…” He sighed. “They’re for you. For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you.”
I could have argued about equality. I could even argue that I would be a fully contributing member of a household, which means I could halve his rent and buy all the beans we’ll ever need. But instead of doing that and invalidating his need to take care of me, I nodded. I pressed a kiss to his lips.
Then I caught Deck chewing my bra. “Deck! Stop it!”
Now we pull into the gym’s parking lot in Mac’s ‘Cuda, with Deck in the back, and my ass completely naked under my jeans.
“I can’t believe he ate my underwear.”
“Call the puppy school,” Ma
c glowers. “He’s a menace to society.”
I point toward the massive crowd already milling outside the main doors. “Does it look like I have room for puppy school today?” I turn to him. “Really, Mac? We’re weighing in, weighing hundreds of other people in, stopping the scuffles before they start, telling my dad I lost my virginity, and hopefully avoiding the people we don’t like today, and all the while, I’m doing it with no underwear!”
“You don’t have to be all ‘Daddy, I lost my virginity’ or anything, ya know. Just be cool, tell him I asked you out to dinner. Don’t go all crazy with the truth bombs and shit.”
Laughing, I lean across the seats and press a kiss to his tense jaw. “Scaredy cat. If you want to deserve me, then you’ll probably have to go through the gauntlet with my family. Knockdown fights. Every male Kincaid will step up, probably a few of the females too.”
“No thanks.” He pushes out of his side and slams the door to ignore my laughter. As soon as I climb out, he meets me on my side and throws his arm over my shoulders. “You’re not that hard to give up. I’d rather live, so thanks for a good night and all, but you can go.”
“You’re an asshole,” I laugh.
“Blair!” We both jump when Daddy rushes around the corner of the building with his fist clenching, jaw grinding, shoulder pumping look he does. “What did you just say to my daughter?”
“Uh…” His voice literally cracks and makes me laugh. “Nothing, sir.”
“You said nothing?”
Jimmy Kincaid has to work extra hard to be scary, seeing as how he’s usually the class clown, the joker amongst his group of friends. Add in the fact Mac is family to a company of thugs, and it takes a little more than usual to scare the guy. But Daddy does it. With dark brown eyes and that adrenaline filled chest, he manages it.
“You said nothing at all?”
“I, uh, I told her that I respect her very much, and that if she wants to maybe go to dinner sometime, I would have to speak with you, to get your blessing… sir.”
“Really?” Daddy tilts his head, cracks his neck with a deep pop. Tilts it the other way. Pop. He turns to me. “Where have you been all night?”
“Church!” Mac inserts. “Uh, church, sir. We’ve been volunteering at the church to feed the needy. We were assigned to different stations – Reverend Hannah put me on the mashed potatoes, and he put Lucy on the coffee pot. We didn’t even speak for more than two seconds the whole time.”
It’s not even a lie if everyone knows it’s a lie.
“Daddy.” I leave Mac’s side, only to step forward and press my face to a chest that’s hard as stone and filled with adrenaline and the need to hit the boy he knows did things to me last night that can’t be undone. “Good morning.”
“I was expecting to eat breakfast with you this morning. Where the fuck were you?”
“Eating breakfast with Mac?” I smile, even though he can’t see it. “I had coffee with Smalls and Ben, breakfast with Mac. Then we came here.”
“I don’t like this,” he whispers. He wraps strong arms around my shoulders and turns us to give Mac his back. “I fucking loathe the thoughts that were in my head while I ate breakfast. Alone.”
“So stop thinking about it!”
“I can’t! I can’t stop, because you’re my baby, and I’m not… I’m not…” He sighs. “I’m not coping at all.” He pushes me back, but keeps a hold on my arms. “You were… he was… fuck.” He exhales and bathes my face with his breath. “Everything is okay?”
I nod.
“And… uh…” He peeks over my shoulder. Hardens again when, no doubt, he locks eyes with Mac. Then he comes back to me. “Do you need to talk to your mom or anything? She’s right inside.”
Am I traumatized? “No,” I laugh. “I’m good. I’ll catch up with Mom when I see her. But everything is okay, I swear.”
“You’re not allowed to move out.” His eyes scour mine. “Not for another seven years. I have dibs until then.”
“Seven? Why seven?”
“Because that’ll give me time to make up for the fact you already basically don’t live at home. You’re at college, or you’re with Smalls and Ben. Last night, you were at neither, but you sure as hell weren’t in my home either. Seven years gives you time for that seven-year itch, and if you’re going to break up anyway, you may as well save yourself the trouble of packing your bags.”
I laugh and step back in for a second hug. Because he’s right; I already hardly live at home. I’m always too busy for my own good. Too rushed to stop for a second and appreciate what I have. “Did you and Mom have a seven-year itch?”
He chuckles. “Every seven days or so, Mom tries to kick me out. She lacks her funny bone, and accuses me of not being able to take a hint.” He rolls his eyes. “She wouldn’t know funny if a clown smacked her in the face with a chainsaw.”
“Yeah, because your jokes always land right.” I pull back and look across the parking lot as Jamie dashes through the front door, to chase a girl, no doubt. “Okay, let me go, and stop looking at Mac like you’ve got the chainsaw nearby.”
“I could get it and see how he fights with only one leg.”
“You do that.” I condescendingly pat his chest and meet his eyes. “Let me know how it works out for you. I’ve gotta go find Smalls. Deck; let’s go.” I turn in search of the dopey giant, only to find the space I thought he was in, empty. “Deck?”
“He went inside,” Mac lazily answers. “He was gone the second we stopped.”
“Shit, I better find him before he eats someone’s kid. Come on.”
Daddy slams a palm to Mac’s chest, but turns to me with a sugary sweet smile. “You go on in. Mac and I just need a sec.”
“Daddy…”
“Go.” He literally shoves me toward the door at the same time another heavyweight comes out.
As soon as I’m inside the gym, the noise changes from the buzzing that would come from the outside of a beehive, to a thundering that brings pain to my ears. Bodies fill the gym from wall to wall. Heavy, muscled, many of them tattooed, fighters stand shoulder to shoulder, talking and bursting to hear whatever news Smalls has for them.
I duck under arms, squeeze between shoulders, and shove those that look me in the eye and still don’t move. I make my way toward the boxing ring, since that’s the direction everyone is facing, and though I can’t see my cousin yet, I know I’m heading the right way. The sound quietens the closer to the front I come, but the shoulders tighten. The gaps become smaller, and those willing to let me through, before looking into my eyes and actually recognizing me, are fewer.
Though of course, the second they look, many bounce away like I’m made of electricity.
Stacked Deck might have been Smalls’ idea, but the four of us – her, Ben, me, and Mac – we’re like the founders in a way. They respect Smalls, they clamor to meet her, because she’s louder and more magnetic than I am, but all four of us are the faces of Stacked Deck. All four of us are on the posters, on the website, on the application forms when folks want to sign up.
I might be quieter than every other person I’m related to, but I’ve earned my place in this gym, and as co-founder of the tournament I don’t even want to fight in.
I pass Soph as she stands by the ring, but I keep my head low and avoid eye contact. She’s disappointed in my decision to fight instead of dance. She’s vocal about it, and swears that if I change my mind, she can fix it up with a single phone call.
She helped us set up Stacked Deck, she helped with the technical side, the legal side, even the financial record-keeping stuff. She’s hip-deep into this tournament and has sunk thousands of hours into making sure it runs smoothly for us, and yet… she would kill it if I told her to get me to that showcase next week.
“Finally!” Smalls shouts from the boxing ring – her stage – and extends a hand to pull me up beside her and Ben.
Mac wanders in with Daddy a moment later, so when he propels himself forward – al
l of his limbs intact – to fill out our foursome, Smalls lifts her megaphone and the crowd quietens.
“Welcome back to Stacked Deck.” All four of us grin when applause fills the room like rolling thunder. “This is our second year, the second of many, many more to come. Last year was a wild success, though I know those of you who lost and went home empty-handed might disagree. It’s the way it is, the way of a knockout tournament, so I assume instead of harboring bitterness all year, you trained harder, and made a promise to yourself that you would do better this time around.”
That gets a few of the guys nodding in agreement.
“This year will be set up much the same as last; three-minute knockouts. Finals fights will be three rounds of three minutes. We want the knockout, so get there before your time is up. If you and your opponent make it all the way to the buzzer without the tap or the KO, and there’s no apparent winner, there will be no rematch. You both go home, because you both suck. Of the champions last year, every single one of them are back this year. This is exciting, for us, for the winners, for those of you who’d like a chance to knock them off their perch. But as we said last year, there are no rides to the finals. We all start back at the bottom; if I lose, I lose. I don’t get to walk into the finals just because I won last time.”
“And not because you’re a Kincaid?” someone calls from the back. “No walk because it’s your tournament?”
Smalls’ eyes scour the crowd in search of the voice. When he pokes his head through the gaps, she lifts her chin in acknowledgment. “If I did, if I said I didn’t have to fight the first day, but I stepped up in the finals, would that be okay? Would y’all let me get away with that?”
A buzzing, rumbling negative rolls through the crowd.
“Exactly. I’m being held accountable by five hundred fighters. Plus my mom–” she points toward Aunt Tina, who stands outside the ring with Uncle Aiden. She comes back to face the guy who asked his question. “My mom is all about playing fair and whatnot, so if I tried that bullshit, if I tried to walk to the finals, she’d knock me out and walk away with the belt. Rest assured, just like last year, Stacked Deck will be run fairly. We have cameras throughout the entire venue, there are sixteen permanently mounted cameras inside the octagon alone, plus our live cameraman, plus whatever you guys catch on your phones. There will not be a single person who will be able to watch the footage and say anything was carried out wrong.”