by L. Grubb
“I’d love to see how you can bring me down when I make you the most money, arsehole.” I’m beyond caring about my career. I just want this fucker out of my life, away from Carlotta. But I need more time for my plan to take effect. “I suggest you get off my property before shit goes down, old man.”
“You think I’m so scared of you?” He laughs and the sound goes straight through me. It’s pure evil. “You’re eighteen, hardly a man. Punishment will come, Beast. Mark my words.”
His shoulder bashes in to mine as he walks passed, but I hold my ground. I let him leave as I breathe through my anger. Needing to punch the shit out of something, I turn to my left and hit the wall with my right hand, leaving an almighty dent and plaster crumbles to the floor. I don’t register the pain in my knuckles, I don’t notice the blood dripping onto the floor. My mind is misted with anger and my body is shaking in fury.
Carlos is a motherfucker that’s going down and I’m going to make it happen and make sure his body is never found.
The next couple of days go by in a blur, the tattoo shop has been mega busy so me and Gemma haven’t been back to the pub since the night Beast dragged me out. Keeping busy keeps my mind from wondering back to that night. I have a fight tonight, the boss has set me up with a former world champion and I’m shitting myself. Usually, I have small fights with fighters in the same rank or having the same skill as me. This is out of my league and I’m petrified.
In the gym, coach trains me ‘til I can’t breathe and my arms are heavy with sweat dripping down my face. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be for tonight. Gem will be there for moral support and cheering me on. Damn, I need all the support I can get for this fight. I don’t think it’s going to end well but I’ll give it my best, that’s all I can do.
Showering quickly at the gym, I dress back in my usual skinny jeans and tank top and sweep my wet hair to the side and braid it. Gemma meets me at the reception desk and gives me a small sympathy smile. “Come on. You need a proper hot shower and some food.”
“I’m not hungry,” I mumble. I am but the swirling motions in my stomach will probably prevent me from keeping anything down. “I really don’t think my stomach can handle anything.”
“Babe, you have to because you need your strength. You understand this is the biggest fight of your career, right?” She looks at me, her eyes roaming my face. “You can do it, chick.”
“I hope so, Gem, I fucking hope so.” We walk to her car and pile in. I sigh when my arse hits the seat and I rest my head back against the headrest. Sitting down feels amazing, like I haven’t sat down in quite a few days. That was the most intense training I’ve had to do so far and I’m not relishing doing it again any time soon. “What time is it?”
“We have about two hours before we have to be at the warehouse to get taped up and warmed up.” She consults her sparkly watch as she says this and starts the car. “Let’s go.”
I’m taped, warmed up and ready to hit the ring. I’ve reached into my inner bitch and pulled her from her slumber. I need her for this.
“Carlotta! Are you ready?” Coach calls from the locker room doors. “Come on.”
Taking a deep breath, I leave the sanctuary of the lockers and the smell of sweat to the double swinging doors. I can do this, I chant to myself.
I hear my name shouted over the speaker system and I walk to the ring on shaky legs. I’ve never been scared for a fight before, but this one…this one I just know I’m going down. But I will not go down without giving it my all.
Stepping under the ropes and into the ring, I head to my corner for my mouth guard and a quick prep talk from coach. I can sense his nervousness and it doesn’t help in the slightest.
Looking to the other corner, I notice the girl I’m fighting. My fucking god, she’s tall, muscled and the scariest woman I have ever laid eyes on. I’m tiny compared to her. I look like an ant and she’s the ant squisher. This isn’t good.
My wide eyes land back on coach and his eyes are looking everywhere but at me. Over his shoulder, I notice the boss man of the whole MMA circuit in London. Carlos. And he has the dirtiest smirk on his face and his arms are crossed over his chest, wrinkling his expensive suit.
What the hell? I have only ever met him once, and he seemed like an okay dude for a Mafia boss, but now I’m thinking maybe I judged him prematurely. I gulp down the lump that’s building in my throat and bounce on the balls of my feet, rolling my neck around and stretching my arms above my head.
“Fighters. Please come to the middle and bump fists,” the ref bellows. I jump and speedily make my way to the middle. I cloak my face in a mask I use at every fight. It shows I’m not scared and that I’m ready for anything. In other words, bring it the fuck on, bitch.
We bump fists and square up. Ugh, it seems like she’s three foot taller with ten inches of muscles on her biceps. I can do this, I chant again.
The whistle blows and we circle each other. I’m trying desperately to not show any weakness. I’m not a coward and I won’t back down. She throws the first punch and I block successfully but I don’t see the next punch coming and she clocks me on the side of the jaw. Shit, that hurt. But I carry on, not showing the pain that’s exploded across my face.
Left jab, right jab, uppercut. She stumbles back and I smirk at her as I go in for another left jab but she blocks and hits my nose. Stars blur my vision and my eyes water as the pain explodes into my brain. Shit. Keep it together, Car, you’re not done yet, I tell myself.
The first round is done and we’re both pretty bloody. I head to my corner and gesture to coach for the water bottle. Taking a few healthy swigs, I swallow the water that has the hint of a copper taste from the blood that’s dribbled into my mouth. My nose is completely busted and I let coach tidy my face up just a little. I can feel my eyes swelling and know it’s broken, but that just makes me angry.
The ref signals for the next round and I join big bitch in the middle of the ring. Glancing to my left, I find Beast’s angry glare and tightly clenched fists as he eyes me in the ring. His blue eyes are stormy as they shift to Carlos in the corner. Uh oh.
“Bumps fists!” The ref bellows and I get myself together and in the zone. Fuck, knowing Beast is here has my stomach in tight knots. Forget he’s here, Car, focus.
The next round is more brutal and I take quite a beating. My ribs are screaming in agony and my knee is swelling to epic proportions. I haven’t got much left in me, but I won’t give up until I’m knocked out. This fight may end my career and may end me and it’s because Carlos is pissed. I haven’t done anything wrong, but that doesn’t stop him causing shit around here. I’ve seen worse happen.
The final round. This is it, I either take it like a pro and go down fighting hard, or I go down like a sack of potatoes and embarrass the shit out of myself.
My fists are screaming and my arms ache, but I throw jab after jab at my opponent. I have no control; I’m just fighting for my life. She sidesteps me and throws a punch an inch away from my temple and I’m out. My head hits the floor with a sickening crack and the lights fade out. Blackness consumes me and I’m incapable of fighting it. Noises fade and then nothing. I’m out, but I went out fighting.
The blood pumping in my veins tells me my anger levels are dangerously high. I’m losing my shit and I couldn’t give a fuck. My eyes are trained on Carlos who smirks at me, straightening his posture and pulls his shoulders back. He’s fucking bricking it, and I’m loving every fucking second.
My muscles are twitching and my fists are clenched so hard I can feel the struggle my knuckles are having with being bent for so long. This ends now.
The sickening thump in the air has my eyes zooming into the ring and I see Carlotta’s face on the mat. I eye her chest and notice she’s not breathing and I zoom into action.
Jumping into the ring, I turn her over carefully and start performing CPR. Her coach and Gemma are by her side as I furiously try and get her heart to beat. Five slow minutes pass and I can fe
el her heart beating and her chest moving. “Has someone called a fucking ambulance?”
“Yeah, I called them,” Gemma whimpers as she clutches Carlotta’s hand, stroking her hair out of her face and talking to her in an attempt to wake her.
Anger is sizzling below the surface and I look to where Carlos was last standing and he’s gone. Fucking surprise. I roll my neck and look back down at Carlotta’s body, her face is messed up pretty fucking bad, but she’s breathing. My heart feels like it’s going to jump out of my chest and I need to calm the fuck down. I’m no use to Carlotta if I have a heart attack.
Paramedics climb into the ring and I move away, giving them room to work on her. Please let her be okay, I say to myself in my head. Fucking her once wasn’t enough, I know that now and I hope to God it’s not too late. My mind is consumed with images of her naked under me with my hand around her throat and my fingers tangled in her hair. I’ve never had this feeling of wanting a woman for more than a quick fuck against the wall, I’ve never had feelings for bitches full stop. But Carlotta is different.
Coming back to the here and now, I watch as the paramedics lift the stretcher they’ve placed her on and I pull down the ropes so they can get out and I scramble after them, not wanting to leave her alone.
Gemma’s hand on my arm stops me and she says, “I’m going with her. She’s my best friend, Beast. I need to be with her.” The tears in her eyes has my shoulders deflate and I nod my head in agreement. She gives me a small smile and runs after them.
After the main doors are shut, I head to the private offices in the back of the building. My anger is back and I’m going to let loose. I don’t give a fuck about the consequences. When a life has been put in danger, that’s where I cross the fucking line. Carlos is a sick prick who needs to be taught a lesson, and I’m the one going to deliver it.
The main office door is open and I see Carlos behind the desk with his feet up on his clear black desk. A cigar in one hand and a whiskey in the other, he looks like the typical cliché of a mafia boss. His suit jacket is flung over the back of the one the guest chairs in front of the desk. “Come on in, Beast.”
I walk through the door, slamming it shut behind me. I growl as I see him so fucking relaxed. The thought of smashing his face against that stupid desk flits through my mind and I growl. “What the fuck do you think you’re playing at, Old Man?” I say through gritted teeth.
“I know about you and her, Beast. I have people who tell me everything. I’m not stupid so stop treating me like I am. I’m looking out for you and your career. If you get attached to a woman, you’ll fuck up everything your father worked so hard for.” He pauses, taking a drag of his thick brown cigar and blowing the smoke to the ceiling. “You won’t fuck this up for any of us. You’re the one that brings in the dough, Beast.”
“You think a woman would cloud my fucking judgement in the ring, Carlos? You’re a delusional, sick and twisted, bitter old cunt. You’re nothing to me but the boss, you’re not my father.” I spit at the floor, a threatening, disrespecting manner for the Mafia and Carlos sneers between me and his shiny marble floor. “Something to say, Carlos?”
“You’re a despicable little shit, Beast. An ungrateful twat.” I laugh, is that all he’s got? Seriously?
“What do you think Manello and Giovincci will say once they hear the stunt you just pulled?” I watch as his face turns ashen and he swallows. “Yeah… nothing to say now, Carlos, do ya?”
“They won’t find out. I run this section, not them.” He really thinks that and that’s what happens when powers at play and your ego gets in the way of what’s important. Not that I can really say much, I have an ego the size of the Grand Canyon. But Carlos has gone too far.
“They already have found out.” I raise my right brow at him and smirk as I narrow my eyes.
“How? What?” He stutters out, cigar long forgotten in the ashtray.
“I called them. I also have permission to do whatever the fuck I want with you. You knew the rules, Carlos, and you broke them terribly.” I move toward him like a cheetah and wrap my massive hand around his throat, pulling him up from the wing back office chair before slamming him against the wall behind him. “I can smell your fear and I feed on that shit, Old Man. You’re done.”
He tries to talk so I squeeze harder. His breathing supply is completely cut off and his face turns an angry purple. I release him and he crumples into a heap on the floor, clutching at his throat as he gasps for breath. “You obviously forgot my strength, mate, because you still went against me.”
“Please…”I don’t let him beg, I punch him straight in the solar plexus, effectively knocking the wind out of him. He moans and groans on the floor as he wheezes out breaths.
A swift hard kick to the ribs has him screaming out into the silence of the room. “You’ll be taught a lesson, I’ll feed you to your dogs after, Carlos.” He looks up at me, tears streaming down his face and I say, “You’re about to feel exactly how Carlotta felt. Goodbye, Carlos.” My punch hits him right on the temple. It’s quicker than I wanted but the big boys were waiting to clear the scene. His eyes lose their shine and become dull in death. It’s funny how one punch can end a life. He deserved every lick of pain he got and some.
I spit on his lifeless body and turn to leave the room. I smirk at the massive mammoths waiting outside the door and nod in confirmation to their questioning eyes. Job done. Now I need to clean the fuck up and get to the hospital. God, I hope she’s okay. Even after all the shit between us, I can’t help the stab of pain in my heart that she’s in some hospital bed, critical, and I haven’t had the chance to talk to her and to tell her how I really feel about her.
Beeping. That’s all I hear as I come crashing back to reality. The throb in my head makes me groan but I can’t move. My body feels dead and it’s frustrating. Where the fuck am I? What happened.
“Car? Car, it’s Gemma. Can you hear me, babe?” Gemma’s soothing voice washes over me and I relax slightly knowing I’m not alone. I’m confused, hurting and my face feels like I’ve been a round with Mike Tyson.
“Gem…” My voice is croaky and my throat dry.
I feel her hand clutch mine and water droplets hitting my arm. “Oh God, Car. I’ve missed you. Please tell me you’re okay.” She sniffs and I can tell she’s crying. I’m growing concerned with what’s happened, Gemma never fucking cries, she’s the hardest, toughest, bitch I know.
“My head…Water…What happened?” I’m rambling and there’s a slight slur to my speech but I need to know.
“I’ll get the doctor, babe. Stay put.” Not that I can fucking go anywhere, is what I want to say but I mentally roll my eyes as the beeping of some sort of machine soothes me in a dozing state.
“Miss Denver?” A male voice asks. My eyes are pulled open and a light is shone in them. I flinch away as the pain in my skull intensifies.
“What happened?” I ask again, hoping this time I get answers. I refuse to open my eyes knowing the assault of light with cause too much pain.
“You had a fight with a former world champion, remember?” Gemma says, smoothing a hand in my hair. “She knocked you out pretty bad.”
The memories rush back and it catches my breath. “Yeah, I remember. Am I in the hospital?”
“Yes, babe. They’re doing an amazing job but you’ve been sedated for three days. The doctor will explain.” She clutches my hand in hers and I squeeze back, finally getting some feelings into my limbs.
“Miss Denver, you’ve had quite the knock to the head. You have a depressed cranial skull fracture. We had to sedate you so we could monitor the swelling of your brain safely. The swelling has reduced which is why we woke you up.” He quiets as a blood pressure cuff is wrapped around my arm.
“What’s a cranial fracture thingy that you said?” I ask. My mouth and throat are so dry that my words are coming out croaky and I cough. A straw is placed against my mouth and I sip the iced water and moan as it trickles down my throat. Go
d that feels so good.
“It’s a small fracture at the front of your skull. It will heal on it owns and you’ll be given pain killers when you’re released. But we’re keeping you in for at least a week to monitor your brain for any signs of brain damage. But so far, we’re seeing nothing abnormal apart from swelling. You’ve been very lucky, Miss Denver.” His warm hand touches my arm gently and I’m grateful for the comfort it seems to bring. “You’ve also broke your nose and your left cheekbone, that will also heal on its own. We’ve set your nose and we’re hoping that there will be no lasting damage. I’ll leave you to rest now.”
I hear the door swing shut and silence once again greets me, but I can still feel Gemma’s hand in mine. “You’ll be okay, Car. Fuck me, I was so damn scared.”
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” I blow out a breath and I can feel the tears falling from my closed eyes.
“Carlotta?” I’d recognise that deep tone of voice anywhere, and goosebumps rise on my skin. Gemma’s hand slips away and the door once against clicks. “You okay, baby?”
“I’ll be okay. What are you doing here?” I turn my head to where I heard his voice. I may have disliked him when I first met him, but since he fucked me senseless, I can’t stop thinking about him.
“I needed to talk to you.” His hand, that’s twice the size of mine, slips into mine and a sense of comfort envelopes me in its embrace. Safety, that’s the word I would describe how I felt at this precise moment.
“About?” I whisper, not sure if I really want to know right now when my head is broken and I still have the anaesthesia in my system. But I’m intrigued.
“I don’t want to do casual sex with you, Car. I can’t get you out of my fucking head.” I feel the smile pull at my lips, knowing that I’ve gotten under his skin as much as he’s gotten under mine. “I’ve never had a relationship, don’t even know how that shit works. But I want one with you. I’d have anything with you if it meant that I get to see your smile on a regular basis. Just don’t tell anyone this shit. I’m meant to be impenetrable and hard as shit.”