by Shay Savage
"What happened to them?" Raine asked.
"I have no idea," I told her. "Once I had it figured out, I decided to track her down, but Franks forbid me from doing so.”
“Who is Franks?”
“Oh…um…well,” I hesitated. Telling her who Franks was would be a mistake – a big one. “He was one of the guys in the organization. Kind of a…um…you know – he was important, I guess.”
I changed the subject quickly.
“I didn't care what he said and was going to find her anyway, but Landon stopped me."
"How?"
"By putting a gun to my head."
I grabbed my boarding pass and started heading to the international departure gates. When I turned the corner, I found myself staring directly at him.
"Get in here," he commanded.
He pulled me by one arm into a storage area.
"I have to go after her, Landon," I said frantically. "You don't understand. She's..."
"Pregnant, yes, I know."
“Did everyone fucking know what was happening but me?” I screamed.
“Keep your voice down, dickhead,” Landon snarled. “Not everyone, but plenty of people. I told you not to get attached to her. If I had realized you would be stupid enough to ride her bareback, I might have said something more convincing.”
I heard the soft click of the Glock in his hand, just there to make the point.
“She can’t just walk away from me like this,” I insisted. “She just isn’t thinking about what she’s doing.”
“She obviously thought it all through,” Landon contradicted. “You are the one who isn’t thinking.”
"I'm going after her!" I yelled and shoved Landon in the chest. Without even seeing him move or understanding what had happened, I was face first on the floor of the storage room with Landon's knee at the back of my neck. I felt the cold metal against my temple.
"I don't teach my students all of my tricks, Bastian. Don't forget that. I warned you about her, but you weren't interested in listening. I’m not going to have one of my fighters going after Franks' niece and her fiancé. Go home."
"I have to talk to her!" I yelled from my supine position.
"If she wanted anything to do with you, she’d be here now," Landon said. "I know you were stupid enough to fall for her bullshit, but it’s time to smarten yourself up now.”
I tried to twist out of his grip but was completely immobilized. Part of me tried to memorize just how he was holding me down so I could use it in the future. The rest of me wanted to end it now.
"Just fucking shoot me then!" I screamed at him.
"No," he said. "That bitch isn't costing me a fighter. I need you in the arena in six days."
"Fine!” I growled. “That sounds like the perfect opportunity!"
"Bastian." It was the cold, deadly voice. It was the ‘don't fucking move, and give me your attention’ voice. It was the voice of complete, murderous rage. "If you don't win your next three tournaments, I swear I will find that bitch myself and kill her and the baby. Are we clear?"
“You wouldn’t,” I said softly, hoping against hope he wouldn’t really do that, but knowing in my dying heart there would be no hesitation on his part.
“Seriously?” He laughed, but there was nothing funny about it. “In a heartbeat. I wouldn’t even bother washing the blood out of my shirt until I got home.”
"I love her."
"I know,” he said, removing his knee from my neck and allowing me to stand. “You'll hate her soon enough.”
"Landon was right," I told Raine. "I was in hell for a while, but it really didn't take that long to hate her. Still, I wanted to know something about where she went, what happened to her and the baby, but no one would tell me.”
"You have a child," Raine said, half statement, half question.
"Yeah, I guess so. As far as I know, anyway. He or she would be almost five now."
“Bastian, I’m so sorry,” Raine said, reaching out to rest her hand on my knee. I shrugged off her comment.
"So, like I said in the short version," I said with a completely unconvincing smile, "she didn't love me back."
"I think there's a little more to it than unrequited love," Raine said. She was angry; I could hear it in her voice. "She used you."
"Yeah, I guess." I realized I was completely exhausted, both mentally and physically. “When I thought back on all of it, I knew it had all been a set-up. She had planned for me to catch her in the act the other two times, so she would be able to convince me to fuck her without a condom. I never did that again – not with anyone – and I made sure even if one of them broke or something, nothing like this could ever happen again.”
“How did you do that?”
“I got a vasectomy.”
“Oh my God,” Raine whispered. I glanced to her eyes and saw the tears coming. I didn’t want her to cry, but I figured I needed to get this over and done with as quickly as possible.
"What she did to me hurt too much," I said. "I'm not sure I could love anyone again after that, which is why whatever it is that’s going on here…well, I just don’t know if I can deal with it. Even if I could, you shouldn’t have to."
“What do you mean by that?” she asked.
“Don’t you see, Raine?” I looked over to her and stared. “Jillian showed me what should have been obvious all along. Why would anyone want someone like me for a husband or a father? My blood parents deserted me, no foster home wanted me around, and I was a professional killer, for Christ’s sake! I wasn’t good enough for her, and she made that abundantly clear! And now some…some…”
The words got stuck pushing against the insides of my chest and throat. I finally managed to shove them through, but it physically hurt to do so.
“Some other guy has my family. My kid and the woman who was supposed to be my wife are being loved by another man. I wasn’t good enough. I’m not good enough…don’t you see that, Raine? I wasn’t ever going to be good enough for them, and I’m never going to be good enough for you!”
I wasn’t even sure how Raine managed to pull me against her chest and lay me down. All I know was that I was suddenly sobbing with her arms wrapped around my shoulders, holding me tightly. I could hear her voice in my ear and feel her warm breath flowing through my hair.
“Not good enough,” I mumbled against her. “Don’t touch me…you shouldn’t touch me…”
Despite the words I heard coming from my mouth, I made no move to push her away, and Raine didn’t let me go. I don’t know how long she held me while I cried for the family that should have been mine. If only I had been worthy of such a gift, but I wasn’t and I was never going to be. I would never father another child, and I would never be deserving of a woman’s love. How could I have expected Jillian to love me when obviously my own mother had not? How could I have thought I might have been a suitable husband and father to anyone? I was a brutal, inebriated killer and nothing more. I should end up alone – it was fitting and just.
I didn’t know if I actually calmed down, but I did get even more tired, and I stopped shaking in Raine’s arms. I started thinking about how completely ridiculous I was – crying over this shit as if I hadn’t brought it all on myself.
Raine spoke, bringing me out of my self-deprecating thoughts.
"That's when you started drinking, isn't it?"
"Kind of," I admitted. "That was the beginning, but I got much worse after my last fight."
"What happened then?"
That was the day I watched sixteen people get slaughtered.
“I don’t think I can do any more right now,” I said. The last thing I wanted to do was talk about her father at this point. I had said far too much as it was, and I was starting to feel like I was going to pass out from the emotional exhaustion.
“I don’t blame you,” Raine said. I was about to ask her what she meant, but she went on without prompting. “I think if someone had done that to me, I would have ended up buried in a bott
le as well.”
“No one would do that to you,” I said, the very idea making me see red. If someone hurt her like Jillian had hurt me…well, I’d make it my life’s mission to tear the fucker apart. Slowly. “If anyone did, I’d fuck them up.”
“Bastian?”
“Yeah?”
“It doesn’t change anything,” Raine said.
“What doesn’t change anything?”
“What she did to you,” Raine clarified. “What you did afterwards – it doesn’t make any difference.”
“It doesn’t make any difference?”
“I still feel the same about you,” Raine said. “What she did wasn’t your fault.”
“I wasn’t worth it,” I reminded her. “I wasn’t good enough for…”
“Bullshit.”
I had to glance up at her face because it was about the second time I had heard her swear. Her eyes were narrowed, and she glared down at me.
“I was stupid,” I reminded her. “I can’t let myself be that stupid again.”
“Trusting her may have been ill-advised,” Raine agreed, “but caring about someone, even someone who you realize later doesn’t deserve it, isn’t stupid.”
“It sure as hell wasn’t smart,” I argued.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Raine repeated, making each word sharp and clear. “You didn’t deserve to have that happen to you, and I’m not going to think less of you for it. I’ve told you before, but I guess I need to say it again – I’ve seen you, Bastian. I know who you really are behind that armor-plated shield of yours. Now that I understand some of the whys, I only know I want to be there for you more than ever.”
“I’m not good enough for you, Raine,” I said softly, earnestly begging her with my eyes to believe me because if she didn’t, I wasn’t going to be strong enough to stay away from her. I wanted her too much now.
“I think I’m the one who gets to decide that,” Raine said. She raised an eyebrow at me and then leaned down to place a firm kiss against my lips.
“You should decide to tell me to fuck off,” I told her. “It’s your best option.”
Raine gave me half of a sad smile and then slowly shook her head. Both her hands came up and grasped the sides of my face before she reached for me again, her lips meeting mine and pressing against me slowly. She broke away and leaned her forehead against mine, staring directly into my eyes with those beautiful, deep brown irises that made me want to drown in a sea of chocolate.
“Will you try to let me in, Bastian?” Raine asked. Her fingers traced over my jaw. “Just try? I won’t hurt you – I swear I won’t hurt you like that.”
“You’re already in,” I confirmed.
I guess I didn’t need to be alone after all.
Chapter 11 – Land
I sat at the edge of the raft opening, staring out into the darkness and trying to figure out what the hell was going on with me. I hadn’t been able to sleep at all even with Raine running her fingers through my hair. Once she had finally drifted off, I extracted myself from her hold and came here to sit and contemplate…nothing.
I hadn’t known what I was going to feel or how I was supposed to feel when I revealed everything about Jillian and the baby, and I was kind of surprised that I felt mostly empty inside. Maybe it was just reliving all of that shit again – remembering everything I had tried so hard to forget while inside of a bottle or a shot glass. Maybe all I was really feeling was hatred of myself, which was such a familiar feeling it didn’t register as anything to my brain. That could be it. If I had stuck with my usual, misogynistic ways, I never would have fallen for Jillian’s scheme, and I’d be a very different person now.
Wouldn’t I?
I tried to imagine where I would be now if I had never met her or she hadn’t taken off with Ian. Again I was faced with nothingness. Would I still be fighting? I was getting a little old for that shit. I’d be thirty this summer. Maybe I’d be training other fighters, or maybe I would have retired and opened up a brothel or something to pass the time. Maybe we’d be living in a penthouse – Jillian, me, and the baby. Maybe I would have taught the kid self-defense or read books to it every night. Maybe we all could have lived on the boat together and hired a tutor to live with us. I wouldn’t be here; that’s for sure.
I wouldn’t be here with Raine.
Fuck.
I didn’t love Jillian anymore, and if I was to be completely honest, I wasn’t sure if I ever had. Maybe it was just having someone who I thought was permanent in my life was what I loved about our relationship. Maybe I was in love with the idea of love. I was happy with her, though – I remembered that. I had been happier than I ever had been before.
“She makes me feel like I’m actually worth something,” I said to John Paul. I put the free weights down next to the bench and sat up. “Besides Landon, no one ever wanted a stupid punk kid like me. Landon had his own reasons, and those didn’t have a lot to do with me. Anyway – I make him a shit ton of money.”
“Landon cares about you, too,” John Paul said. “He has a fucked up way of showing it, but he cares about both of us, and not just because of the fighting. He sees something more in you, too. If I fucked up, he’d kick me out in a heartbeat. I think you could do just about anything, and he’d still take you back like the prodigal son or something.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I have thought of him as a father from time to time because he’s the closest thing I ever had to one, but he’s certainly threatened to blow my brains out more than once when I fucked up.”
“He didn’t do it, though.”
“No, but he would have. I don’t think he likes Jillian much, but he won’t say why. It’s not like she’s a gold-digger. Jillian doesn’t need my money. It’s good to know she wants just me and not because of something else.”
“It’s a good feeling,” John Paul agreed. “You guys sure do look good together – that’s for sure.”
“It’s not about that,” I said, shaking my head. “I love her, John Paul, and she loves me, too. I’m really thinking about retiring and buying her a big ass ring.”
“Fucker,” he laughed. “I should get to retire first – I’ve been doing this longer.”
“Yeah, and maybe someday you’ll do it right!”
He punched my shoulder, and we laughed before we went back to the free weights.
I didn’t know what I was now. Happy? Sad? Empty? Nothing? Yes, that was probably the most accurate way to describe me. Nothing. I glanced over my shoulder for a second at the sleeping, dark-haired woman on the floor of the raft behind me. When I looked at her, the emptiness evaporated faster than the dew from the collection sheet on the top of the raft’s canopy. I’d told her more than I had ever told anyone. She knew things I had never told Jillian, or John Paul, or even Landon. She knew me, and I didn’t know what I was supposed to do next.
When I looked at her, held her, and felt her hands on me, what did I feel then? I didn’t have a name for it. Happy didn’t describe whatever it was. That could be a part of it, but there was something else inside as well, and not all of it was good. I also felt panic inside when I thought of her, and I wasn’t sure why.
Because you know she’s got her barbed hooks inside of you, and if she pulls out now, she’s going to be taking a pound of flesh and then some.
I wanted to tell her more. I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted her to know everything about me, about John Paul, about the things that happened to me in jail. I even wanted to tell her about the night her father was tortured and executed along with fifteen others right in front of my eyes while I stood there and fucking watched it happen. Yeah, what would she think of me then, when she finds out I never said a word? When she knows I didn’t do anything to stop them?
I shook my head from side to side violently, trying to force the sights and sounds to remain contained as they attempted to break out into my conscious mind. I could hear the screaming, see the looks on their faces as each one of them reali
zed they were next, feel the splatter of blood on my skin, and smell the sickening stench of death. I swallowed hard, trying to force bile back down my throat.
I wanted a drink. I wanted a drink so fucking bad it fucking hurt.
I looked up into the eastern sky as the sun’s rays slowly broke over the horizon, telling myself over and over again not to think. For a moment, I just stared, eyes narrowed, trying to figure out the trick of the light causing the diffraction of the sun’s beams off to one side. A small band of cumulus clouds brightened the sky with gold and orange hues. There was a tinge of green on the underside of the closest clouds.
Four pelicans flew overhead towards the west.
I realized my breathing had escalated, and though I fought against hyperventilating, I welcomed the rush of adrenaline.
“Raine, wake up!”
“Hmm?” She rolled and rubbed at her eyes. Her eyes meeting mine was the only thing I could have considered more beautiful that the sight on the horizon. “What is it?”
“Land.”
* * * * *
“There ya go,” I said, watching Raine tie the edge of the blanket-towels-turned-into-sails down close to the canopy top. “Just keep a good hold of it – we don’t want to land on the windward side.”
“Why not?”
“If there are reefs or rocks, they’re more likely to be there. The leeside of the island – if it is an island – is more likely to be sandy. Reefs are the real danger right now – they could tear the raft up. If we make land, we’re going to need everything we got until we figure out where we are.”
“Do you think there are people there?”
“I have no fucking idea,” I growled. “Now don’t start with the questions. Just hold on to that sail.”
I adjusted the pair of floating anchors, which would help us from capsizing in the waves as we approached shore. Though being in a survival situation on land was much better than in the water, landing on shore in an inflated raft was dangerous at best. I picked the paddle up and started pulling us around the left of the slight peninsula jutting from what looked to be a small island.