by L. B. Dunbar
I went for a morning run again, my body clearer than the day before, after the night’s activity with Elma and another round in the morning. I came home prepared to head to the gym early. I was focused. My body electrified from my connection with Elma. Shepherd and I planned to talk about my next fight. As I sprinted my final stretch into the parking lot of the townhome, the black SUV stood out amongst the other student cars. My stomach roiled. My heart dropped. Trouble sat before me in the form of Kursch.
He exited the vehicle slowly, looking like the calm bodyguard he was. Dark aviators covered his eyes, and the sun beat off his bald head. He smiled kindly at me, but I knew his visit was anything but friendly.
“Abel,” he addressed me.
“Uncle K,” I answered.
“I warned you,” he spoke sadly, shaking his head.
“How does it feel to always do his dirty work?” I snapped. I’d never spoken back to Kursch. He was the soothing one in the Atom/Kursch combination. He was the one that would comfort me, attempting to make amends for the harshness of my father.
“This isn’t dirty, Abel. I’m bringing the prodigal son home.” The reference wasn’t lost on me, but I wasn’t the son who went into the world to collect riches. I had been cast out when I didn’t compare. There would be no fattened calf to welcome me home, either. An angered man would greet me to belittle my efforts to make it on my own.
“I’m not going,” I said, heading for the entrance of my place.
“Yes. You are,” he demanded, his tone fatherly, despite not having children of his own. He loved Cain, I had no doubt. Loved him like his own son, as he tried to protect him in a different way from my father. He loved me, too, but kept himself reserved from me.
I had just opened the door when he spoke again.
“He’s got the girl.” There was a heavy pause, as oppressive as the heat. “You aren’t supposed to know until you get there, but I knew it was the only way to make you come to him.”
I froze; my hand still on the knob. My head bent forward so my forehead could bang against the wood. My father was determined to destroy everything. It wouldn’t be enough to berate me. He needed Elma to make sure I was demolished.
The private jet awaited us. I expected to find Elma on the plane, but shouldn’t have been surprised that she wasn’t present. Every question I asked Kursch was met with resistance.
Where is she?
What have you done to her?
Who has her?
How could you let this happen?
Kursch’s responses were minimal. She was with my father remained his only reply. I had hours to stew on the plane. The adrenaline inside me was flowing stronger than any fight. This would be the fight of my life. Atom Callahan was a mean man, plain and simple. Damaged from the betrayal of a woman, my mother, he made the rest of those around him suffer. Most particular, was his first son, who he loved and yet sacrificed in equal parts. He worshipped his first born, but made his life hard. He resented his second son. He ignored his daughter by casting her out, like he’d done to his wife.
My mother, Evelyn, was introduced to the underground through my father. He was a hotheaded fighter, who risked it all and often. He wanted too much, too fast, and he dragged his wife through his garden of delight. Unfortunately, she was tempted in her own way. Once she took the poison, she was addicted to it, and the man who introduced her to it. Atom threw her out, leaving behind three children too young to understand how a mother could disappear. I later learned she was lonely, just like me.
Returning to our family home, just outside of Vegas, was not something I did regularly. The dry air and dusty winds were anything but a paradise. The sunshine was almost overly bright, which was an odd contrast to the cover of darkness people preferred in the adult playground. The gated community of Paradise was built for the elite of a time gone by. Our home was in an older district, part of the history of Vegas, from when movie directors and mobsters first came to the area to develop it. Atom Callahan wanted to fit in with the top echelon, although he was still a scrapper at the bottom. He didn’t make it as far as he hoped in the fighting world, so he made certain his son would.
By the time we reached the house, I was on edge enough to take down the door of the white stucco home and any fighter standing behind it. I just needed to get to Elma. I needed to know she was safe. Whatever my father’s reasoning, someone else wasn’t going to take the beating for me, least of all her. Barging into his office, I found my father perched behind his domineering desk. The one I stood before on many occasions and took the lashing of his cruel tongue. Cain was also present, casually leaning against a sideboard, head lowered as if in thought. His expression was guarded.
“Elma.”
I breathed out her name in relief, as she sat without a scratch in one of the upright leather chairs opposite my father’s mahogany desk. Cold dark eyes met mine the instant I glared at him; his fingers steepled under his chin as he held my stare. My father was an imposing man, even seated. His broad shoulders, thick neck, and angular face were hard. He was still very fit for an older man. His dark hair only slightly peppered with gray.
“What is she doing here?” I blurted, completely confused as to how Elma was related to anything concerning my father.
“Is this what I paid for?” he smirked. His eyes wandered to Elma, dragged up and down her seated body then returned to mine. If I was hot blooded before I entered the room, my insides instantly iced-over at the predatory look on my father’s face.
“Paid for?” I choked then cursed myself. I could not let an ounce of weakness seep out of me.
“Yes, apparently, I paid two tuitions this semester. One for you. And one for a Ms. Elma Montgomery.” My father had picked up a statement, reading off of it as if to clarify information he clearly knew. It was intimidation. He’d perfected it and I’d witnessed it often.
“I was going to pay it back,” I spoke, not daring to glance at Elma. Her eyes averted mine regardless. Her fingers worked at the edge of a short dress hardly covering her thighs. The movement showed her anxiety.
“Well, how do you intend to do that, Betta?”
The use of my fighter name caused me to glare at my father. My fists clenched at my sides. His meaning was evident. If he knew my fight name, he had to know all my secrets. There was nothing he would disapprove of more. Cain was the fighter; I simply was not.
“I had it figured out,” I answered. The winnings from my fights where collecting nicely. By the end of the semester, I’d have the full return of what I’d loaned to Elma.
“Seems your calculating didn’t account for me. That means she owes me.” My father glared in the direction of Elma, who was refusing to look up at him.
“Actually, she owes me,” Cain muttered, interjecting. He’d been silently leaning against a large cabinet to the right of my father. His dark hair was still shaved close to his head. His face was clean of scruff at the moment, but his eyes were the cold darkness of my father. They were almost twins, except the son had surpassed the father in stature. I couldn’t figure out his angle in responding. Of all the times he protected me in the past, I didn’t understand what he was doing in the present.
“I owe you nothing,” Elma spit, the venom in her voice shot across the room. Cain’s subtle response was his sly smile. He was amused by her, like a snake with a mouse.
“It appears you owe him something. And he owns you until you pay,” my father interrupted their stare down.
“What?” I choked again.
“Well, if Cain,” my father sarcastically stated his name, “believes he paid her tuition, then he owns her until she’s paid him back. How do you intend to pay him, girl?” My father’s intention was clear. He believed Elma should provide sexual favors for Cain’s financial investment.
I stepped forward, as if my presence next to Elma would prevent my brother from taking what he felt belonged to him. His face twitched in that smile again, but his eyes remained focused on the floor. His arms were crossed ove
r his broad chest, and his ankles intersected as well. He leaned back like a man of leisure. Only the hand over his mouth hardly covered his smirk. He appeared to be playing a game with my father and I couldn’t think straight to decipher what he found so amusing about my situation. In that moment, I wanted to sock that look of his smug face, and I’ve never wanted to hit my brother before.
The silence filling the room was awkward and slithered amongst us with the slow passage of time. I was holding my breath, waiting for the rattle of the snake to pause before it struck.
“I’ll pay for her,” I said. Elma was suddenly a commodity. I bought her once; I’d buy her again, only this time it would be her freedom.
“And how exactly do you intend to do that again?” my father asked, falling back against his chair and rocking it back and forth. He was taunting me. The rattle of the snake began again.
“I have more fights. I’ll collect and pay Cain for her.”
The slow smile on my father’s face formed ice shards inside me again. While I already shook with a chill of hatred, it appeared I could actually grow colder.
“Speaking of fights, it appears Ms. Montgomery had been forming her own plan for a fight,” my father spoke casually. Without thinking, I turned to her, but her head shot up and she glared at my father.
“Did you know she was trying to seduce someone into a fight? Against your brother.”
I didn’t want to acknowledge what I apparently did not know, but Thor Thurston flashed through my mind instantly. I couldn’t take my eyes from Elma.
“He killed my brother,” Elma bit again, not addressing me, but glaring at my father. My neck rolled and I stared at my brother. Elma and I had been through this, but she refused to return to the topic. Cain had been absolved of all charges. Her brother died, but Cain hadn’t killed him. It was an accident brought on by Montana’s actions: to fight when he wasn’t ready to return.
“Maybe she was trying to seduce you into fighting against your own brother?” my father inquired sarcastically, dragging out the words in a sinister sound. He made me question Elma’s motives. He made me wonder if she was playing me. I looked at her again. Her blonde hair hung forward. Her blue eyes averted mine still. Her delicate hands gripped the arms of the chair while she glared at my father. Ignoring the weight of my eyes on her was evidence of her guilt. I pulled my head up high and took a deep breath.
“Will fighting Cain repay the debt?” I boldly asked. My father blinked. The surprise on his face was something I’d never seen before. His angular cheeks returned to their narrowness as a smile slithered over his face.
“You wish. To fight. Your own brother?” My father paused to look at Cain then returned to me. “For a girl?”
I refused to acknowledge Elma. My heart was clenching. This was no longer about her. This was about the way my father treated me. The fact that Cain thought he could take something from me; the idea that he was owed her. I was due, too, dammit. I was long overdue.
I didn’t reply. It was Kursch who spoke, anticipating the movement of my father before it happened. His expression slowly altered. He pressed on the deep desk with clenched knuckles and stood, staring at me over that massive furniture that had separated us for years. His stance was one of authority. I remembered looking up at him in fear on several occasions. Suddenly, I was looking straight across at him: one man to another. I wasn’t a child any longer.
“Atom, don’t do it,” Kursch warned.
“This will be the greatest fight ever fought,” my father began, without concern for the heeding tone of Kursch’s voice.
“Brother against brother,” he paused, his excitement rising. “A fight to the death,” he added, raising an eyebrow. “All for love.”
“I don’t love her,” I spat. Elma twisted in her seat. It was finally her turn to glare at me, and while I felt her blue eyes on me, it was me who avoided her. This fight wasn’t for love. This fight was for egos: my father’s, Cain’s, mine.
“I’m not fighting, Abel,” Cain snickered outright. My father rolled his neck in an eerie motion, like a creature suddenly surprised at a side attack.
“Oh, yes you will,” Atom Callahan said to his oldest son. “You’ll prove to the world you’re back, stronger than ever. Strong enough to fight and destroy your own brother.” The lethal tone of my father’s voice slinked through the room. His mission was clear. Cain and I were to fight. This was no longer about the money. This was Cain’s redemption. While Elma still harbored her feelings of Cain’s guilt, the fighting community wasn’t convinced of his innocence, either. He wasn’t coming back as strong as he’d been before the fatal incident. My father wanted to prove that Cain was better than before.
“What if I win?” I snipped, surprising my father again. That rattlesnake twitch of his lips appeared false and shaky as he stared at me.
“If you win, you don’t need to repay the money. The girl is yours to do with as you see fit.”
“If Cain wins?” I asked, while my father returned to his seat.
“The girl remains Cain’s.”
“You don’t own me,” Elma snapped in a tone all too familiar to me. I’d heard those words and that attitude before. She had no idea who she was dealing with before her.
“You wanted a fight against my son, girl. Now, you’ve got one. He owns you unless you have that twenty thousand dollars?” My father’s sinister glare teased with a raised eyebrow. Elma’s silence was her answer. She didn’t have the money. She didn’t have a choice. Suddenly, neither did I.
“You stole all my money,” Elma barked. “I have nothing left because of you. When he killed my brother, we had nothing left.”
I didn’t dare look at her, but her words pricked me.
“Kursch, could you show Ms. Montgomery to one of Cain’s rooms?” My father asked, ignoring Elma’s outburst.
“What?” Elma and I answered in unison. Her hands gripped the arms of the leather seat again. Mine fisted at my sides.
“As she belongs to Cain, she’ll be staying in one of his rooms.”
“No,” I hissed. The inflection was a hint. The girl meant more to me than I intended for either of them to know. I’d also used a word linked with extreme consequences when placed against my father. In the past, Cain would step in, but in this instance, Cain was equally my nemesis. His silence meant he’d follow my father’s orders. In a sense, Cain was allowing me to take my own punishment this time. Elma was my beating.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Elma snapped across the room. Her eyes roamed Cain in disgust. Suddenly, I remembered meeting him in Carrie’s. He’d been watching her, aware of her. He was going to have her whether Elma wanted him or not. Cain always got women to come around to him. The cold in my veins turned to shards of steel, cutting and ripping my insides. A clamping vice squeezed my heart.
Kursch’s hand wrapped around Elma’s upper arm, guiding her gently out of her seat.
“Abel?” she beseeched, but I could do nothing to defend her. I no longer had the strength. She clearly blamed my brother for her loss, enough so to use her body to tempt a fighter to fight against her brother’s killer. Pictures of Elma and Thor came to mind again. It suddenly became clear she used her body with me, in hopes I’d fight my own brother to avenge the death of hers. Images of Elma and I haunted me. I had nothing left for her. My heart stopped beating. The iron clamped shut and I heard the key lock the prison gate.
I didn’t have the will to fight for Elma, but I had the sudden desire to fight my brother. After Elma was removed from the room, my father’s attention to his desk told me I was dismissed. I turned to Cain.
“I found the girl,” I growled, glaring at him.
“What girl?” my father interjected. Cain ignored him and returned my stare. His body was still positioned casually, but there was a subtle shift. His shoulders stiffened. His crossed arms dropped and his hands gripped the cabinet behind him. He bit the lip he’d been rubbing to disguise the taunting laughter tempted to
escape him previously. To him, this was a game, until I mentioned her.
“I found her,” I reiterated, ignoring my father.
“And?” Cain asked. Nothing changed in his demeanor. His facial expression remained indifferent, but something in his dark eyes softened for a moment. I dared to think he looked hopeful, anxious even for news of this girl, Sofie.
“You were right. She’s with someone else,” I spit before turning away from him and exiting my father’s office.
I paced the floor, like the caged animal I was, inside Cain Callahan’s room. My mind was slow to catch up to all that had happened. I’d been leaving my mother’s apartment when I was approached by a large man. I recognized him from Carrie’s. He’s the one that wouldn’t let me reenter the building. He told me Abel needed me and I should come with him. I didn’t think; I reacted.
In hindsight, I was beginning to see that was my nature. I hadn’t thought when I tried to get close to Thor. I hadn’t considered what the result of trying to seduce him might mean for me. I never expected a person like Abel Callahan to become a factor in my plan; a plan, which was evidently flawed, in more ways than one.
I was escorted to this prison by another man, equally large, imposing, and dressed in black. A collection of men, hard as rocks and just as stoic, guided me here after a private plane ride. It was ridiculous to fight or run. They were three times my size, and I had no doubt any one of them would catch me. Once in the air, there was nowhere to flee.
To my great surprise, I found Cain Callahan inside the older man’s office. I didn’t recognize Atom Callahan, but I identified Cain instantly. Deep dark eyes, shaved hair, and a smirk that could be sinister playful or sexy evil. Either way, he was the man that killed my brother. He’d stolen my brother from me. I didn’t care if he’d been freed of charges. His father was obviously a powerful man, one with connections to all types of people. Guilty men went free all the time.
Montana would never have been so foolish as to enter the ring without medical clearance. He wouldn’t have taken the risk with his body, with his health, with his life. Yet the deeper I dove into Montana’s tale, the darker his life outside of his family seemed. I didn’t know about the loans or the gambles. I didn’t see the people he owed or the people he used. I lived in a nice house, with my endless clothing budget, and a cute car. I went to an expensive university with the promise of a dance studio one day.