by Vi Keeland
I fix myself as best I can and head to the living room to see who’s arrived. My hair is fingered back in place and my shirt is readjusted, but there isn’t anything I can do with the heat on my face.
“Ma, you didn’t need to bring Vinny by the house. I wouldn’t have forgotten to pick him up. And I told him that twenty times in the last twenty four hours.” Nico catches me in the doorway and gives me a look like he may injure someone before the fight, but for some reason I only find it funny. He’s cute when he’s frustrated.
“Hi Mrs. Hunter. Hi Vinny.” I smile and the two step around Nico who was blocking their passage for entry. Nico looks at me like I’ve just welcomed the devil into his home, instead of two of his biggest fans.
“You’re wearing the t-shirt!” Vinny is excited and smiling.
“Of course I am. It’s the coolest t-shirt I own.” I wink at him and the all-confident boy turns shy for half a second before turning to face Nico.
“You like it Nico?” It’s sweet how the boy wants Nico’s approval, I just hope Nico doesn’t flatten his enthusiasm because they interrupted a private moment.
Nico looks at me and takes my shirt in again, as if he is seeing it for the first time. His eyes go hooded and no response is really needed. The kid smiles as he watches Nico, knowing Nico couldn’t be happier.
“Yeah kid. It’s perfect.” He takes a deep breath and exhales.
***
All of Nico’s brothers and their wives are already seated when Vinny, Max, and I finally find our seats. Between my friends and his family, we fill almost two rows. My stepfather managed to pick up the security job for the fight, and it makes me feel bad that I can’t invite mom too. I’ve told her about Nico, but even that made her nervous. There is no way she would be able to handle a live fight. Too many bad memories.
My stepfather spends a few minutes at our row and I get to introduce him to Nico’s family. It’s an odd feeling blending our families together, but when I take a minute to look around, I realize everyone feels right at home. My stepfather is chatting away and laughing with Nico’s mom and oldest brother, and Vinny and Max are in their own little world. It brings a warm feeling to take it all in…I haven’t felt like I had a family in so long. It’s not my mom’s fault, I just wouldn’t let anyone in. I didn’t even realize it until Nico snuck into my heart and opened it wide for others.
The announcer steps into the cage and my body goes tense. It’s really going to happen now. I’ve pretended that it wasn’t, that I had time before I had to go through watching Nico do this. But there’s no more time left. What if he freezes again, only this time he gets hurt? Or if he hurts the brother? Will he be able to live with himself after what happened last time? I suddenly feel sick to my stomach.
“Elle?” I hear Regina speak, but I can’t respond. I’m frozen in place, staring at the announcer like I’m waiting for something to happen any second. “Elle!” Regina grabs my arms and snaps me out of my trance. “Are you okay? You’re white as a ghost.”
I nod my head, but she isn’t buying it. She knows me too well. “Come on, let’s get out of here. This is too much.” My arm is in her hand and she’s already starting to pull me in her direction.
“No!” My voice comes out louder than I anticipated and I’m suddenly grateful for the announcer who just sent my mind into a tailspin. He’s drowning me out with his loud words fired off in rapid succession, but their meaning doesn’t register with me. I force myself to look at Regina so she knows I’m okay. “I can’t leave. I need to be here.”
Regina searches my eyes like she’s looking for something. She still looks nervous, but she stops tugging at my arm. “Okay, okay. Let’s sit then. Drink some water. Please.”
I take the water to make Regina happy and try to focus on what the announcer is rattling on about.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, the moment you have all been waiting for. The match to end all matches, more than a year and a half in the making. The man, the myth, the legend, ladies need no introduction, the one, the only Nico ‘The Laaaaaady Killlllller’ Hunter.”
The crowd goes insane. Vinny and Max are standing on the top of their seats jumping up and down so hard that I think they might break the chairs. Nico’s mom, who is normally subdued, is screaming with hands on either side of her mouth. And his brothers are high fiving, fist pounding, and jumping up to smash each other with their own chests. The moment of insanity does wonders for my nerves, I can’t help but smile at our crazy gang.
I’m impatiently waiting for Nico to enter the room, but I don’t have to turn to know the minute he steps into the arena. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and the room that I didn’t think could get much louder ratchets up ten decibels. The sound is almost deafening. I turn to watch him make his way down the aisle, but it’s difficult to see him behind the dozen bleach blonde women in bikinis and high heels who are marching down the aisle in front of him. Each carries a sign over their head bearing various testaments of love to “The Lady Killer.”
I try in vain to see his face as he passes, but I’m too short for his sizeable entourage. It’s not until he steps in the cage do I get a clear shot of his face. One of the brazen, scantily clad bikini girls makes a big commotion bending over in exaggerated form and kissing him on the cheek. It’s only his side profile, but I catch his jaw clench and I smile to myself knowing the kiss was a setup and clearly unwelcome. And then he turns, and his eyes land directly on me. There is no search through the crowd, our eyes just find each other, like metal to a magnet, inexplicably pulled to each other without effort. He just needs to see I’m really here, but it’s just reinforcement, he knew I was here the minute he walked in the room.
After a few minutes, the crowd finally dies down enough for the announcer to speak over them, although they’re still going pretty strong.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, in the blue corner tonight, we have a man set for revenge. He’s been waiting eighteen months for his chance to take back his family’s honor…I give you, Trevor ‘The Aaaaaaaa-vennnnnnnnnn-ger’ Crispino.”
Unlike last time, the crowd doesn’t boo. Even Nico’s family falls silent. There are some cheers from his fans, but most say nothing and I don’t know if it’s out of respect for Nico, his contender, or his late brother. Either way it sends a chill up my spine at the mere mention of the horror that was his brother’s last fight.
After a few more mind-numbing announcements, the two men are sent to their respective corners. It’s funny how my reason for worry changes, yet the worry stays the same. The last time I sat in this room I was worried that watching men come to blows would be a trigger for me. Something that would dredge up the memories of the past that I’d worked so hard to tuck away. But as I sit here today, I’m still worried about Nico’s fight, yet it no longer has anything to do with my own self-preservation. All of my worry is for the man in the ring, how he’ll manage to handle striking a face that is all too familiar. The similarities are haunting and it isn’t even my nightmare. I worry that he’ll freeze and get hurt, or that he won’t and the emotional damage will take its toll later. Either way, it’s hard to see a win for Nico at the end of this fight, no matter who comes out the victor.
I hold my breath as the fight begins and the two men meet in the middle. I want to look away, save myself the pain of watching it all unravel before my eyes, but I can’t seem to allow myself to blink for fear of missing even a second. Nico strikes first, not giving his opponent time to even acclimate before knocking him back three steps with a thundering hit to the left side of his jaw.
As much as I struggle seeing the two men fighting to win something back, something that was taken wrongly from both of them, there is a sense of relief that Nico seems to be back to fighting the way that made him a champion. But my relief is short lived. Not ten seconds after I finally exhale, letting out the breath I had been holding, Trevor lands a kick to Nico’s chest and Nico stumbles, his back hitting hard against the unyielding cage. His back arches
with the contact, and I see his face register pain, but he quickly recovers. Sitting so close, I can see the toll each blow takes on their faces.
By the end of the first round, both men have taken and delivered harsh blows dealt with brute force strength. I don’t claim to have any experience judging a match, but, to me, Nico is the clear leader as they take their seats in their respective corners. His blows are stronger, more precise. And he has the ability to recover faster from the ones he receives. But all in all, it doesn’t appear to be an unfair fight.
Again in round two it’s Nico who comes out blazing. He strikes fast and furious and lands a series of kicks which almost knocks Trevor to the ground, but his opponent somehow remains on his feet. Trevor regains his footing and takes aim at Nico, with a windup and punch that Nico manages to avoid by weaving, leaving Trevor plunging forward with the sheer momentum of the hit that never lands. Nico sees an opportunity and seizes it, pounding brutally on the man’s back before he has time to recover from his missed punch. It’s all too much, too fast, and Trevor falls forward, landing first on his knees, before both arms go wide and he plummets face first into the mat below. For no more than a split second, he lays still on the ground. But that’s all it takes. I watch as something passes over Nico’s face and everything changes.
Nico just stands there, blankly staring at his opponent, even as Trevor recovers, taking his time to get up, wobbling to his feet before regaining his footing. It’s as if he’s quit the fight, except there’s still more than two minutes on the clock until the end of the round. But even though Nico might have thrown in the towel, his opponent sees it as an opportunity. He hits Nico with a left, then a quick right. The second punch landing so hard that I watch in slow motion as Nico’s head swings to the side and blood splatters from his nose all over the shiny grey canvas below.
I’m watching in horror as Nico is pummeled, each series of blows taking my breath away. He’s not even protecting himself, he’s just standing there and taking it, like it’s his punishment and he needs to be man enough to accept it. Preach is screaming like a madman from the sideline, trying to snap Nico out of it, but it’s as if he doesn’t even hear him. I wince at each strike, silently begging for the ref to stop the fight. I don’t know the rules, but this can’t be legal. Clearly, the ref sees that Nico has checked out and being in the cage is dangerous to a man that won’t even protect himself. But they let the fight go on and on, and it’s the longest two minutes of my entire life.
By the time the bell sounds at the end of the round, Nico is a bloody mess and I want to die. I feel helpless and I want to run into the cage and grab him and hold him tight against me and tell him everything is going to be okay. Only I can’t.
The crowd doesn’t know what to make of things either. The once frenzied chant of Nico! Nico! has died out and even Vinny and Max are eerily silent in their seats. It’s as if they’ve all accepted the path that Nico has chosen…but I can’t. I won’t. I refuse.
The final round starts off almost the same as the last one ended, with Nico getting his face pummeled and him doing little to change things. I don’t understand why everyone is so quiet. His brothers are all sitting and his mother sits silently on the edge of her chair, looking pale, her face turned away from the fight. She can’t even bear to watch.
I just can’t sit and quietly watch him go down without a fight. So I don’t. I get up on my chair and start screaming. Like a loon. The people around me are staring, but I don’t care. Screw them, they were all chanting his name when he was winning, but where are they now? After a few more punches that few men would be able to endure, let alone stand after, Trevor lunges and takes Nico down to the mat. The two men wrestle around for a few seconds, and then Trevor emerges on top, Nico’s arm pinned behind his back, his head to the ground.
“Get up Nico! God damn it, Get up!” My screams are torn from my lungs, each word burning as it bleeds from me. I don’t know if he hears me yelling, but somehow I doubt it since Preach is closer and can’t seem to get his attention. But then something happens. Nico lifts his head from the mat, his arm still pinned behind his back, and I could swear, for just a split second, he looks right at me.
There’s less than a minute left in the match, but we both know that so much can change in a single minute. The course of an entire life can be redirected, a man can choose to live, a man can die unexpectedly. Nothing is over until you call it quits or you take your last breath.
I have no idea how Nico gets himself out of the hold that Trevor had him in without breaking his own arm, but less than two seconds have ticked from the clock and Nico is back on his feet and there’s a fire in his eyes. Trevor gets back up and readies himself, expecting to continue the fight, but it’s no longer a continuation, it’s suddenly a whole new fight. Nico lands a blow to the ribs and his opponent staggers back three steps. There’s no time for Trevor to recover, to regain his footing, before Nico lunges, taking him down to the mat. And then Nico’s on top, landing blow after blow, each more heartbreaking than the next, even though it’s Nico I want to come out unscathed.
There’s less than ten seconds on the clock when Nico backs off slightly, but his stubborn opponent lifts his head, trying desperately to get back on his weary feet. And then Nico winds up and strikes. Hard. The man’s head wobbles, seemingly unhinged from side to side, his eyes rolling back into his head before they both close. I watch in slow motion as his head bounces up and down twice more before finally coming to rest lifelessly on the mat.
The arena goes silent. There are twenty thousand people in one room, yet I can hear the paramedic who rushed into the cage bark out orders and the ref instructs the men in suits watching from the sidelines that he’s calling the fight. KO.
They wave something under the unconscious fighter’s nose and I see his head shake from side to side. He’s awake and alive and there’s a collective sigh heard around the arena. After a few minutes, Trevor gets up with assistance from his trainer and walks out of the cage. But Nico is still standing there, staring at the place where Trevor once laid, even as the ref raises his arm in victory. The crowd goes wild, but I see it in Nico’s face, there’s no cause for celebration.
***
The whole way down to find Nico, I fret he may chase me away when I arrive at the locker room. I’m surprised to find a dozen people waiting in line outside his door. Even more surprised to find as many already inside. Photographers vie for photos of the new champion, but I can see he’s in no mood. Two of the bikini bimbo’s from the entrance parade are trying to snuggle up on either side of him as pictures are snapped excitedly. I know it’s all part of marketing, but my nerves are shot and I have no patience left.
“Don’t touch him.” I warn as one of them goes to lift her leg and wrap it around Nico’s side. She stops and looks me up and down, smirking at my t-shirt, she probably thinks I’m some lonesome groupie, hoping to get lucky tonight. That I’m no match for her open invitation to a sure thing. But I have no time or patience to pretend I care what she thinks. Nico watches me closely as I take the few steps to close the distance between us.
“Let’s get out of here.” I’m relieved at Nico’s words. If he hadn’t suggested leaving, I probably would have demanded it.
There are too many people to count yelling at Nico that he can’t leave when we walk out the door. But neither one of us cares.
Chapter 48
Elle
It’s been almost two days now. Nico hasn’t pushed me away like last time, but he may as well have, because he’s closed me out all the same…along with everyone else. I’ve tried everything…just holding him, quietly talking, even cuddling up to him bare ass, still I get no response. I’m starting to think Preach is right, he needs a doctor.
It broke my heart the first night when he stared blankly at the ceiling. He didn’t say it, but I knew why he couldn’t close his eyes. I went through the same thing for years. Instead of seeing black and calm, allowing yourself to drift into dreamland
, you see that moment, the one frozen in time in your head. And then you’re afraid to close your eyes. Afraid to sleep, afraid of the nightmares that you know will come. Terrified to be forced to relive it all again in your head, because it will all seem so real.
Yesterday I finally took the pills that Preach had been trying to give me to push on him since the first night. His body needs to rest, the physical injuries demand time to heal. Nico may have been the victor, but his body took a relentless beating in those short minutes that he surrendered. He’s swollen and cut and black and blue. Everywhere. I held ice to his injuries when he finally slept, rotating different places on his body every fifteen minutes for more than ten hours, until there was nothing cold left in the freezer to hold against him. Those pills work, he didn’t once move…not from the ice held against him or from my touch.
But today it’s gotten worse. A sick, twisted part of me almost wishes that he was still drugged and sleeping. At least then I could pretend that everything was normal and he was just recovering from the fight. Today he’s no longer sleepy or withdrawn, he’s up and around and he wants nothing to do with me. He won’t tell me to leave, but he doesn’t have to. His body said it when I touched him this morning and he flinched. I should be more understanding of what he’s going through, but his innate reaction tore through me, shredding my heart in pieces.
I don’t want to push him, but I can’t help myself. I’m selfish, hating the feeling in my gut, I need to know he’s okay. That we’ll be okay. I have no idea if it will work, but I can’t stay here anymore just waiting for him to push me further away. He doesn’t acknowledge it when I pack up my bag, I wish his desire for me to stay was stronger. That it would be enough to make him snap out of it as he watches me walk out the door. But instead, he just nods when I tell him I’m going home. I kiss him goodbye on the lips softly, even though he doesn’t respond. I want to feel that beautiful mouth on mine one last time before I go, knowing it could be the last after what I’m about to do.