by C Lesbirel
“Well, I’m not going to fuck this up. Not for some girl. Not for anything. I have been waiting too long to take Theo’s title… I’m ready for this.”
“Then stop losing your shit on the punching bag and quicken up that shuffle step; the fights in two weeks.”
“Two weeks,” I squeak out. Two weeks is nowhere long enough to prepare for the fight of my entire career, but I know I won’t get another shot at the big time. Opportunities for world titles don’t come around often, especially for newbies like me, whose fights are in a cage rather than a ring and my background’s less than desirable for a potential world champion. All the more reason to snatch this title from under Theo’s fat, ugly nose.
“What have you got planned?”
“We focus on your footwork this week; you need to get your speed up, or Theo will get the better of you. He’s like lightning. You’ll need to close him down by distracting him. Take his attention before he gets a chance to find his stride. His left jab is weak, use it to get inside and wear him out. He’s got a good punch, but you’ll beat him in stamina.”
“I can’t believe you got Theo; how did you get him to agree to this?”
“Don’t ask questions, just promise me you’ll take him down on fight night.”
“You know it,” I reassure him.
He leaves me to work on my footwork after I promise to meet him back here at 5.30 a.m. tomorrow for an early training session.
By the time I leave the gym, I’m wiped out and in desperate need of a cheeseburger, which is out of the question, as is all other junk food and thoughts of Bella Buckland until after the fight of my life. A shot at the world title is more than I hoped for— that’s a lie. I don’t hope; I’m a planner. My goals were set from the minute I laid eyes on Theo Milarani, and I’ve been working toward them every day since.
I lock up the gym door behind me and am caught off guard by unfamiliar voices.
“Hunter Ryan.” A male approaches me, his tone low and threatening.
“Who the fuck wants to know?” I demand, unable to make out the hooded figure in the darkness of the back alley until he steps forward. He’s half my size, so I’m not worried, just a bit weirded out by his sudden appearance. When he comes into full view under the street light I realize exactly who it is.
Grilled fucking cheese, staring at me like he is all fuckin’ man with no idea how much he looks like an angsty teenager.
“Or should I say, Greetings, Roma King? That’s what they call you, isn’t it?”
“What the fuck are ya’ doin’ out this late? Get back to bed before ya’ momma comes lookin’ for ya’ and gives ya’ a good hidin’.”
“See, I would like to be at home right now, instead of here at some backstreet gym, but business is business. I’m sure you have other things to do as well, so I won’t take up any more of your time.”
Another three boys step into the light, all equally as scrawny as Grilled Cheese. I’ve stepped onto the set of some cringey paranormal movie set and I’m suddenly surrounded by a pack of teenage wolves. Fuck. My. Life.
“Look, boys, whatever this clown is after, he’s barking up the wrong tree. Do yourselves a favor and go fuck yourselves.” I move forward to pass him, but his three musketeers close in on us, surrounding me. My earlier analogy stands, except if these guys are Vampire Diaries, I’m an Original, and if they don’t back the fuck off, then some serious shit is about to go down.
Except it can’t.
I can’t fight because I can’t risk losing my chance at the world title, and no doubt that’s why he’s here—to stir up some shit, get his cheer squad to film it, and ruin my career. Which can only mean one thing: he knows about Bella and me.
I’ve no idea how but I am crystal clear Bella is the only thing me and this arrogant twat have in common.
“Let me guess, you’ve come to warn me off Bella? There’s really no need. If you know her well enough to pick a fight with me over her, then you’ll know that if she wants to be with you, there’s nothing I or anyone else can do about it.”
He lets out some weird fake chuckle he must have copied from a movie set because no one in real life ever sounds that cringe-worthy.
“See, that’s just it. Bella doesn’t want me, and after a bit of digging to find out why, I learn that’s because she’s marrying you. A fucking gypsy.”
“Watch it, dickhead,” I warn him, my blood turning hot under my skin as I stave off the urge to plaster him all over the pavement we are standing on. How the hell does he know about Bella? I’ve been so careful to keep my distance from her while she lived it up in her stuck-up school for losers, it doesn’t make any sense.
“All I need is a little favor. You see, Imogen’s father is the biggest football manager in the business, and I want in. All you have to do is call off the wedding and stay away from her, so I can make my move, or I’ll make sure this pretty picture of her is circulated to the entire school, including our teaching staff. She can kiss her graduation goodbye.”
He flashes me a picture of my fiancée laying spread eagle on a double bed, her black mini dress around her waist, exposing her bare tits and pussy. She’s asleep and obviously oblivious to whoever took the photo.
Fight or no fight, I lose my shit.
Like, completely lose it… because Bella.
I knock Grilled Cheese to the ground in one clean punch, sending the phone flying. I make sure to stomp on it when it clatters to the ground and turn my attention to three friends all tackling me like a pack of hyenas on a wildebeest.
One by one. I pick them off me and knock them clean out, acting on pure impulse without a single thought in my head except Bella. The picture of her lying there emblazoned on my mind and filling me with fury.
Once I start, I can’t stop. My fists are uncontrollable and I beat them long after they hit the ground. Until their bodies are bloody and they beg for me to stop. Months… years of pent up frustration pour out of me like black oil filling the sea with toxic waste.
Making a fist, I pull my arm back, ready to smash it straight through his skull.
I stop myself. This isn’t me. Not anymore.
I’m not some backstreet bully; I’m supposed to be a professional boxer on my way to one of the biggest fights of my life. What the fuck am I doing?
In the split second I pause to consider getting a grip of myself, a hot piercing pain sears through my leg. I fly around to see Grilled Cheese backing away from me with eyes so wide with terror, they may fall out of his face and roll into the gutter. The streetlight catches on the silver knife he’s holding, and I begin to pay attention to the searing pain in my upper thigh, which is beginning to turn ice cold.
Fuck.
The fucker stabbed me. My grey sweatpants now have a splotch of dark red blood, which is growing by the minute.
“I’m sorry.... I didn’t mean… Shit, you were going to kill them.”
“Get out of here,” I roar at him, gripping my leg with no other choice other than to watch the patch on my pants get bigger.
Taking off my hoodie, I tie it tightly around my leg to try to stop the blood pouring. The pain spreads to my entire upper leg and feels as though I’m bleeding out every last drop of blood from my body.
Grilled Cheese turns and bolts as though he’s being chased by a mountain lion, and the other three scamper after him. Unable to stand anymore, I lower myself to the ground and fumble around for my phone.
I tighten my grip on my leg and cry out as a fresh bout of pain overwhelms me. It feels like my fucking body is about to vomit all of its organs out of the gash in my thigh, and it’s hard to focus. My head feels woozy and I know two things:
One, I need to get to a hospital, preferably in the next second.
And two, I’m about to pass out.
Chapter Eleven
Bella
Hammering the treadmill, I crank up the speed again and turn my power walk into a steady jog. I’m not usually the gym bunny type, but I love lookin
g out onto the ocean and burning off some of the nervous tension I’ve been carrying with me since finding Hunter’s sketchpad. My audio book is playing into my headphones but I ignore the words, unable to focus on anything more than a few words at a time.
Despite being in my last year, I still feel lost at CamU. Somewhere between Imogen and Bella is the girl I truly am. How did I get caught up in this no man's land? The old me would have walked along the beach barefoot in the sand, sea breeze messing up my hair. Now, I just watch from the safety of the glass window while I work out. Other students enjoy their blissful walk, unaware the elite are watching them from a place up high. Alice’s behind the looking glass. Looking down on them from our pretty pedestals when it’s really them that should be looking down on us.
Except, either way, I’m neither girl. Imogen Thomas isn’t free. She’s a fake who lives in fear of her true identity being revealed. Bella Buckland is far from free either.
Trapped.
Whatever I do, there is no end to this.
I couldn’t see a way out, but I kept going anyway.
Somewhere inside of me is the inkling of hope that one day I can find my freedom.
My phone rings, and I tap the answer button to answer, not slowing down my pace as I listen in to my headphones to see what Mommy wants.
Lately, she avoids calling me at all costs because our conversations always end up in some dumb argument about meaningless wedding plans. Instantly, I detect the panic in her rushed tone.
“Are you at uni?” she asks, hurriedly.
“Yeah. I’m at the gym,” I pant out, breathless from running.
“You need to get to the hospital. It’s Hunter.” She sounds so shaken, I detect she’s about to burst into tears.
“What? Hunter’s in hospital?”
“Yeah. It’s bad, Bella.”
I’m already slowing down way too fast to bring the treadmill to a stop and almost keel over with dizziness as I step off.
“What happened?” I ask as I grab my gym bag from the floor beside me and haul it over my shoulder. I leave the gym, focusing solely on one thing—getting to him.
“He’s been stabbed.”
The three words physically stop me in my tracks. I rub a fist over my heart as if to try and get it pumping again.
“Hunter is your future, Bella. This is serious; he needs you.”
“I’m on my way.” I breathe out, power walking back through the long corridors of CamU with their exquisite decor. I’m a ghost passing through them. Imogen is no longer around but neither is Bella.
Because Hunter.
The man I am duty bound to honor and love could be dying, and I’ve never once told him that for all my complaining and doubts, I’d do it. I’d go through with the wedding.
Love is not a single spark.
Love is starlight in the dark.
Sunshine in the rain.
Laughter through tears of pain.
Good over bad.
Heart over rational.
Beyond any explanation.
Love does whatever it wants.
Tempting. Demanding. All consuming.
Love is sometimes unwanted.
But love always gets its own way in the end. ~B.B (Age 17)
See, I was always going to marry him. It was my fate, destiny, and duty. I wasn’t going into this blindly. The risks were crystal clear from the very beginning, and he hadn’t changed since I’d been promised to him. If anything, he’d gotten worse. I’d hoped he’d learn to love me; instead, his need to possess me had grown. Where love should have been, there was compulsion, and where affection should have been, there was a need to destroy.
He’s going to ruin me, and I’m going to let him. Because, I’ve seen the pictures. Watched him watch me all these years with that desperate look of longing. How could I have been so confused for so long when looking back, the signs were there for anyone to see?
He had always been there for me, and now it’s my turn to be there for him. I’m not saying he was there in the way I wanted him to be, but that’s the thing about people, especially our kind of people. They are free spirits who can’t be controlled, or owned, or sculpted to fit into a certain box. People can only ever be who they are, even if they choose to hide it. Their true self will always find a way to escape.
Hunter doesn’t love me how I want to be loved, but what does my inexperienced, confused heart know about love?
Love is the most complex emotion on the planet. How am I supposed to have this all figured out?
I don’t know what I feel for my fiancée. I only know I have to be there with him. He’s hurting, and it’s down to me to soothe the pain. My mommy always said there’s this bond in marriage… familiarity maybe? An unspoken agreement that two people will have each other’s backs whatever the world threw at them.
For Hunter and I, this rang true. He had my back so many times as teenagers, but I’d always pushed him away, regardless. Because of who he was and what he represented.
My panic increases tenfold, as I drive to the hospital with my accelerator welded to the floor all the way there.
When I find him, nothing could have prepared me for the sight of my strong, monster of a man curled up on his side, clutching his head in his hands.
Is he crying?
His parents move away from his bed at the sight of me. I wish they hadn’t because I have zero idea what I’m going to say to him. They both pass me a forlorn nod of the head, and his Dad squeezes my shoulder as they walk past me to watch from behind the glass window as I attempt to comfort their son.
Stepping inside the room, I approach his bedside slowly and with trepidation. “Hunter?” My voice is shaky, and I silently curse myself for still letting him intimidate me.
“Bella?” He makes it sound like I’m a total stranger who is imposing herself unwantedly.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I answer, confirming what he already knows, and step closer to the edge of the bed until I’m right next to him. Trying to stop my hand from trembling so much, I place it gently on top of his own hand, cupping the side of his face. His jawline is peppered with dark stubble, which prickles my fingertips where they fall between his own fingers.
“Why Bella?” he moans out.
“Why what?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. I’m not used to seeing him like this. Or any of the men in my life, to be exact. Pavee men are strong and unbreakable. The only time I’d experienced anything like this was when my brother suffered his spine injury and ended up in his wheelchair.
I don’t know the extent of the damage to Hunter, but I know that’s what will be on his mind. Not recovery, or making sensible decisions to quit his previous fighting, but how quickly he can get back to boxing. The thought makes my blood turn cold.
He lifts his hands off his head, revealing his heart-stopping greens that are almost transparent. I’d only ever got close enough to see them properly a couple of times, and both of them had wound up with me kissing him. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to right now.
“Why are you here?”
“Where else would I be?” I reply, answering his question with one of my own.
“I don’t want you here, Bella. Just go.”
“Why would you say that?” I ask, genuinely confused. Hunter had spent the last few years chasing me and vying for my attention. Now, I’m here giving it to him. He has my undivided assiduity and what… he’s turning it down?
“I told you before, I’m done playing games with you.” His eyes burn into mine, but there’s no menace there, only sadness, and I hate it.
“Who’s playing?”
“Then why did you come? To have a good laugh at the fact that you finally managed to ruin my career? Do you know what this means?” he whisper-shouts at me, obviously not wanting his parents to hear, and I cringe that they are in earshot of our entire conversation. “Have you any idea how much this fight meant to me? It was my chance at the big title, Bella. My single chance to take down Th
eo Milerani and become a world champion. I wasn’t just doing this for me, I was doing it for you. You know what he did to Romeo? That was majorly fucked up. Have you listened to what he says about us, Bella? What the world says about us? This was my chance to put them straight, and you ruined it. You’ve ruined everything.”
“You think this is my fault?” I snap, reeling from his accusations. “Do you really think this is what I wanted? How does this have anything to do with me?”
“It has everything to do with you, Bella. It was your little boyfriend who did this.”
“Addy did this to you?” I hiss under my breath, too scared to speak the words out loud.
“Why? Why would he do something like this? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“It makes perfect sense to me, but I guess you’ve had your head shoved too far up his ass to notice. You got played, Bella. You were so busy making me out to be the big bad wolf when that piece of shit is spikin’ ya’ drink and taking naked selfies to use as collateral.”
“What? How do you know all this? Fuck.” I grab onto the bed rail feeling like I’m going to be sick any minute.
“Like I said, just go.” He sounds broken, and I hate that in some ways I am to blame for all of this.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I fight back. “I want this Hunter.”
His eyes widen in surprise at bewilderment at the enormity of what I’m saying, and it brings a small smile to my lips.
I wait for his, but it doesn’t come. Instead, his eyes flash a darker shade of emerald green and narrow in anger.
“Oh. So, now you want me? Feel sorry for me, do you?”
“No, that’s not it.”
“You’re here out of some unwritten rule that says you are duty bound to do so. Forget it, Bella. Don’t come here and insult me. Surely, even you can see I have enough to deal with.”
“I don’t want to marry you out of duty or anything else you pig-headed fool. I want to marry you because I…”
“Don’t!” he orders. “Don’t say it because it can never be unsaid. You never did have an understanding of how powerful your words can be, did you?” He shakes his head, and my stomach knots so tightly I can barely breathe, never mind say anything.