Stone Cold Knockout

by Lavender Parker

  Angry at himself, angry at Gennifer, angry at the world. He couldn't get the image of her out of his head. Lying on the bedroom floor, her unfocused eyes blinking slowly as if she was stuck in a dream. Then the paramedics lifted her on the stretcher and hustled her out of his apartment. He knew deep down she was dead. But he continued torturing himself with the hope that she was still alive. That she would come back to him. He dropped his head in his hands, closing his eyes, running through the day again. What had he missed? He should have taken her to the hospital as soon as he thought something was wrong. He should have gone with her into the locker room and kicked Donny's ass. He should have stopped her from fighting in the first place.

  The elevators opened and Hector stepped out, followed by Erica. He looked terrible, his jaw swollen from his fight, his eyes wild. He hugged Big Jimmy, exchanging words hurried words. Then the doctor came back, a tall Indian woman. Mikhail ran his eyes over her face, his heart dropping at her serious demeanor. His heart started pounding and he clenched his fists to prevent his hands from shaking.

  “Are you the parents?” she asked Big Jimmy and Maria.

  “Yes, I'm her father,” Big Jimmy said, his voice choked with emotion. Hector slid his arm around Big J's shoulders, giving support as they steeled themselves for the news.

  “Gennifer is in an induced coma. She had a seizure, and we think she's had a minor stroke.” Maria made a strangled cry and clung to Big Jimmy. Mikhail stopped listening then, his English comprehension dropping out. It was too much. He watched Hector's reaction instead, watching him nod and take in the rest of the news. Then Big Jimmy and Maria followed the doctor down the hallway, and Hector caught his eyes across the room. He glanced at Erica, then made his way to Mikhail.

  “Hey,” he said, his eyes red and tired.

  “I do not understand.” Mikhail asked after a moment, the simple act of speaking in English almost too much. “Explain to me.”

  “A blow to the head caused a blood clot, they think. Could have been any of the shots she took today,” Hector sighed. Mikhail thought about all of the blows she took, but she was fine after all of them. She smiled and scratched her nose and got back in the ring and fought like a champ. Things were fine until... Mikhail's vision went red. Donny. Donny hit her in the locker room. Alarms went off in his mind and before he knew it, he was grabbing Hector by the throat and slamming him against the wall, the anger flowing fast and hot.

  “Where is that motherfucker?” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Who?” Hector's brow furrowed and Mikhail raised his fist, ready to fucking bash his brains in. Wanting to bash someone's brains in. An uproar went up amongst Gennifer's friends and family. He felt hands on his shoulders and around his waist, trying to pull him off of Hector. Her heard Erica's voice close to his ear, but he couldn't understand what she was saying.

  “Donny! Where is that motherfucker?!” he roared, shoving them off of him and going after Hector again.

  “What about Donny?” Erica was saying to Hector. “Did he do something to Genny?”

  “I will kill him.” Mikhail seethed. “I will kill him!” Strong arms closed around his midsection and hauled him back. It was Tate, holding him fast, even as he threw his shoulder and almost got free.

  “It's cool, man. It's cool!” Hector was saying. “We'll figure it out.”

  “There is no way out,” Mikhail said, finally getting free. “My Gennifer is...” He trailed off, not able to say the words. She was not dead, but she was lying in a hospital bed, and the thought filled him with rage. He let out a heavy breath, and kicked a side table out of his way. Erica jumped at the loud crash of the table splintering and grabbed Hector's hand. A nurse stepped out of the booth, wide-eyed and pissed.

  “I'm calling security!” she said, hands on hips. Mikhail turned, and pushed his way to the bank of elevators in the hallway. Hector followed, clamping his hand on Mikhail's shoulder.

  “You aren't going to stay?” Hector said. Mikhail didn't answer, just jabbed the button. “You saved her life, you know. If she'd been at home alone...” Hector trailed off when Mikhail grabbed him again, twisting the collar of his T-shirt in his clenched fist.

  “Where is he?” Mikhail growled.

  “I don't fucking know.”

  “Then get out of my way.” Mikhail released him as the elevator arrived. The doors opened and Mikhail stepped in. Hector jammed his foot against the doors.

  “Was it Donny?” he asked, his voice low. “Did he do this?” Mikhail didn't answer, just stared at him. Hector glanced back at Erica, who was watching them, her expression unreadable. Hector nodded, letting go of the door and it slid shut. The elevator began its descent, and Mikhail clenched and unclenched his fists. He felt the once-familiar rage shooting through his body and he let it take over. Let it shut down everything else, every other bit of feeling, and take over. He didn't want to think. He just wanted violence. He craved violence. Mind-numbing, bone-crunching, satisfying violence. And he would find it, one way or another.

  Chapter 17

  Gennifer felt like cotton was in her mouth. She coughed, but it didn't help. Her throat was closing, and it was uncomfortable to swallow. She tried to lift her hands to clear her mouth, but she couldn't. Furrowing her brow, she tried again. Nothing. Vaguely, she wondered if she was tied down. Then the panic set in. She wanted to scream, but her mouth wasn't cooperating. Her tongue felt gigantic all of a sudden, blocking any sound she might make. She heard voices around her, but no one was helping her. Why weren't they helping her? The darkness was threatening to consume her again. She wanted to open her eyes. She wanted to sit up. She felt so alone and lost...then she recognized Big J's booming voice, and she felt herself relax. She wasn't alone. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but it didn't matter. She felt safe with him there. And then she heard Maria's warm voice, whispering soft and loving things in her ear until she gave in to the crushing darkness and slept.

  Suddenly, the bright sunlight was blinding. It felt like it was stabbing her in the eyes. She blinked several times, hearing herself groan deep in her throat. The sound was weird to her ears. She did it again, getting used to herself again. Then she opened her eyes. Eventually they focused, and she could look around. She was in an empty white room, a TV blaring a The Young and The Restless hung high on the wall. Her legs were covered in a thin blue blanket, and she wiggled her toes. She lifted her hands to her hair. It was braided neatly in pigtails, like how she used to wear it as a little girl. She wondered for a minute if she was twelve years old again, in the hospital with a gunshot wound to the head.

  In a panic, she ran her hands under her jaw, feeling the large bandage that was taped there. But the back of her head was not bandaged and seeping blood. It was healed, and her fingers found the small raised scar. She sighed heavily and laid back on the pillows, feeling relief. Then fatigue was on her again, dragging her back to the dark. She let her eyes drift closed again.

  Big Jimmy was close. She could hear his laugh. “Daddy-o, get me some water,” she mumbled. “I'm so thirsty.” When he didn't reply, Gennifer opened her eyes. The hospital room was dark now, a single lamp lighting the room. The TV was still on, a baseball game now playing. She scrunched her nose. She hated baseball. Big J sat in a chair beside her, staring up at the game over the tops of his reading glasses.

  “Fucking Mets,” he mumbled, shaking his head, going back to his sports page. She rolled her wrist, her hand brushing against his forearm.

  “Daddy-o. Water,” she demanded, as loudly as she could manage. When Big J was watching sports, it was almost impossible to get his attention. Luckily, he turned his head sharply to her, then his face broke in a wide smile.

  “Look who it is. My baby girl!” He boomed, standing and giving her a wet kiss on the forehead. She patted him on his big stomach, feeling her mouth move into a smile. “You gave us a scare, Genny. A big scare,” he said, his voice breaking. She realized he was crying and she waved him off.

  �
�No crying,” she said, her voice hoarse.

  “Okay, okay,” he said, laughing and swiping at his cheeks. Then he squeezed her into a hug again, until she slapped at his arm.

  “Daddy-o, I really need water,” she said, a laugh painfully forcing its way out of her dry throat.

  “Oh! Coming right up.” He hurried around the bed and poured water from a plastic pitcher into a matching cup. “Here you go, baby girl.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered and gulped down the cool water. At that moment, the water was the best thing she'd ever tasted in her life. Then she felt her energy wane, and her head dropped back onto the pillows. Big J took the cup and set it on the cart.

  “I'm going to get the doctor. I'll be right back,” he said, kissing her forehead again. Then he hustled out of the room. She rolled her head to the TV and rolled her eyes, remembering baseball was on. She saw the remote on the chair that Big Jimmy had vacated. She slid her left hand toward the chair, willing herself to sit up. Then her hand began to tremor, shaking involuntarily. She looked at it, bewildered. What the fuck?

  “Gennifer, good to see you.” A woman's heavily accented voice rang out. Gennifer turned her head to see the tall Indian doctor suddenly at her side. “I am Dr. Lanka and I've been taking care of you. How are you feeling?”

  “Tired,” Gennifer said, her eyelids drooping. “And my hand.”

  “Okay we will take a look.” Dr. Lanka did a short examination, shining a light in her eyes, and checking her motor skills. It was almost too much exertion and Gennifer felt herself getting angry. She just wanted to sleep.

  “Gennifer?” Dr. Lanka's voice prodded her. “Do you know what happened to you?” Gennifer shook her head.

  “I don't remember,” she said, her tongue feeling like it was swelling again.

  “You had your fight. You don't remember?” Big J piped up. “Javier worked you around the ring.”

  “Javier? Javier Domingues?” Gennifer furrowed her brow. Why would she be in the ring with Javier Domingues?

  “You had a blow to the head, and there were complications from your prior injury. A blood clot traveled to your brain, and you had a minor stroke,” Dr. Lanka was saying, her words like a punch to the gut. A stroke. Pure terror descended on Gennifer. “You arrived to the hospital shortly after your stroke, and we were able to minimize the damage to your brain. You have been in and out of consciousness since last night,” Dr. Lanka continued. “It appears you have a tremor in your left side, but that is most likely temporary. You also may find you have problems with your memory and balance, but those effects may also be temporary.”

  Gennifer struggled to swallow, her throat thick. She tried to think back, tried to remember fighting with Javier. But she couldn't. She felt the panic rising again. She wondered how much she had lost?

  “Get some rest, Gennifer. We'll have you back on your feet as soon as possible.” The doctor smiled. “I will check on you later, okay?” Gennifer nodded, then the doctor was gone. Gennifer held out her hand for Big J and he took it, his big warm hands enveloping her, making her feel safe.

  “It's okay, baby. It's all good,” he said, smoothing down her hair. “You like a damn cat, you got nine lives.” He held her as she tried in vain to sort through her brain, searching for memories that no longer existed. “You'll get through this. You always do.”

  ***

  Mikhail heard his phone ringing, but he didn't make a move to answer it. He didn't want to hear any more bad news. He sat in the darkness, waiting for the sun to come up. His face throbbed and dried blood itched his nose. He'd been out all night looking for Donny. He hadn't found him, but he'd found a fight all the same. The adrenaline had faded, but not the urge for violence. He grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and spread out on the couch, not ready to go into the bedroom. The bedroom still smelled like her. Her clothes were still on the floor. Her blood still stained his sheets.

  He knew he was a coward, but he couldn't face her.

  He couldn't face losing her.

  The pain hummed under his flesh and he focused on that. The physical pain was easier to deal with. He pressed the pack to his face and stared out into the night. The lights of the city glittered obscenely outside of his living room window. New York City didn't sleep, and it didn't give a shit about Gennifer or him or any of them. The sun would rise whether they lived or died.

  When he closed his eyes, he saw her at the window in her green dress, the night of their first date. He could almost feel her body pressed against his. He could almost smell the vodka on her breath. He could almost pretend that she was there with him. Almost.

  When he opened his eyes again, light streamed through the window. Somehow, he'd slept through the sunrise. Sitting up, he ran his hand down his face, a full day's growth of beard on his chin. On the kitchen counter, his phone rang, the sound urgent in the quiet apartment. He jumped up and, before he could think to stop himself, he strode into the kitchen and grabbed it.

  “She's awake,” was all he could remember hearing Hector say.

  ***

  After a hard session of physical therapy, Gennifer was overjoyed to find a plastic container of tamales waiting for her back in her room. She hadn't been able to stomach the hospital food, but this was more her speed. She forced herself to eat with her left hand and picked up the fork. She waited a moment for a tremor to subside, then attacked the food. Maria watched her intently as she ate like a starving person. Her tremor in her left hand and leg had lessened with the session of physical therapy, and Dr. Lanka was optimistic she would make a full recovery. Gennifer just wanted to be released from the hospital. She had a yearning to get back in the gym and get her life back on track.

  “Slow down before you choke,” Maria said in Spanish, chuckling. She loved watching people enjoy her food. Gennifer finally set down her fork when she felt like her stomach was going to explode. She took a sip of water and smiled.

  “That was fantastic,” Gennifer said. “You're amazing, mamacita.”

  “Oh pfft.” Maria waved off the compliment, cleaning up after Gennifer. “You want me to braid your hair again?” Maria tugged on Gennifer's limp curls. She hadn't had a shower in who knew how long.

  “Please,” Gennifer said in a small voice, secretly enjoying being babied.

  “Two braids or one?”

  “One.” Gennifer smiled. Soon enough, she would be back on her own and taking care of herself. For now, it felt nice to let Big J and Maria fuss over her, and she loved the feel of Maria's nimble fingers running through her hair. She scooted forward on her ass and Maria leaned behind her and went to work, taming the thick locks into a neat braid.

  “The first day you come to us, you had two pigtail braids, so long that they almost reached your behind,” Maria said, her voice soft. “I remember thinking you were so beautiful, and I wanted to keep you always.”

  “You were just tired of boys,” Gennifer said, laughing away the lump in her throat.

  “I was.” Maria laughed along. “But when I saw you, I saw a girl that truly needed love. I may not be your real mommy, but I could give you that.” Maria wrapped an elastic around the end of the braid and patted Gennifer's back. Gennifer blinked away the tears that were in her eyes and turned to face Maria.

  “I love you, mamacita,” she said, not sure if she'd ever told Maria before how she felt about her. Maria's face crumbled as she began to cry and Gennifer grabbed her for a hug. They held each other for awhile, two women who rarely cried bawling like babies. A knock at the door interrupted them, and Gennifer pulled away, swiping at her eyes.

  “Are we missing the pity party?” Hector said, his brown eyes glittering and his dimples pronounced as he smiled. Gennifer smiled back, realizing how handsome he was, as if she'd forgotten.

  “No but you missed out on the tamales,” she said. “I destroyed them.”

  “She almost ate the fork, she was so hungry,” Maria said. “They are not feeding her in this place.”

  “She does lo
ok pretty skinny,” Hector said, stepping further into the room. He was followed by a tall redhead carrying a bouquet of white daisies.

  “Hector didn't know what your favorite flower was,” the girl said, her green eyes friendly. “So we brought you these. I hope you don't hate them.” She set the vase on the windowsill.

  “I told you she won't hate them. She probably just appreciates getting any flowers at all.” Hector said, teasingly. He slid his arm around the redhead's waist. They both looked at her, expectantly. Gennifer raked her memory. When did Hector get a girlfriend? She felt a spike of alarm. She was missing something and she didn't like it. She looked at Hector, whose smile faded as he realized Gennifer's confusion.

  “This is Erica,” Maria said softly. “Hector's friend.”

  “Oh,” Gennifer murmured, hating the helpless feeling that came over her. Hector and Erica glanced at each other, a secret message passing between them. Gennifer wanted to scream and rage against the void that had taken up residence in her brain, but she didn't. It was useless. “Um... I really like the flowers,” she said. “Thanks.”

  “You're being too polite. It's creepy,” Hector said, reaching out and lightly pinching her foot through the blanket. “Yell at me for not knowing your favorite flower. That is, if you still remember what your favorite flower is?” He raised his brows mockingly, but there was a hint of real concern in his eyes. She kicked at his hand.

  “Tulips.” She rolled her eyes. “Yellow tulips. And yes, you should know that.”

  “My bad.” He laughed.

  “Well sit down, stay awhile. Unless you can't stay?” she asked, her eyes drifting from Hector's to Erica's.