Outside The Ropes

by Ashley Claudy

  “And if you don’t win?” I tried to watch his face, but the shadows of the night made it hard to see his reaction or if there even was one.

  “I’m going to win. That’s the only option.”

  I didn’t want to be pacified, and that’s what it felt like he was doing. I wanted honesty. I needed to prepare for all scenarios and I couldn’t do that without more information.

  “But if you don’t, you still get money? You could still pay back these people right?” I knew this was a big fight, prize money would be large, but even the loser would be paid and that should cover Dexter’s half of the debt.

  “Maybe,” He said carefully.

  We were flying down an empty highway, streetlights shining through the car randomly in waves. I let silence take over as anger grew. He still wasn’t telling me anything.

  When my frustration boiled over I turned back to him. “How the hell can you say we’re going to do anything together when you don’t include me? You don’t tell me anything.”

  He grabbed my hand. “I don’t want to lie to you.”

  I went still. “Then don’t.”

  He threaded his fingers through mine and rested our hands on my lap. “I can’t tell you.”

  I pulled my hand away and knocked his off my lap, turning my body away from his as I looked out the window.

  “You have to understand. The less you know the better. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

  I spun around. “From what? I should know that!”

  I still didn’t get it. I knew Damien had it out for me, but I never told Gage of his involvement that night. So what did he think he was protecting me from?

  He bobbed his head. “You should. But it’s me. I’m trying to protect you from me and what I’m doing, and any fallout of that. And your friend tonight, she died ‘cause of the people she ran with. I’m trying to hide you away until I’m not one of those people that could get you hurt.”

  The mention of Nan cut me, but I used my anger to cover it. “I’m not a damn pet. You can’t just cage me up and give me water sometimes. I need you to explain things to me or I’m going to make my own decisions and they won’t involve you.” I was surprised by how much that declaration hurt. I didn’t want to cut him out, but he was forcing my hand.

  “Okay,” he breathed, grabbing my knee in an attempt to calm me.

  “Okay?” I repeated, questioning him.

  “I’ll explain some things. What you need to know.”

  I sat back, floored that he agreed. I had changed his mind. Well, good, I was right and he should tell me.

  “It’s not about the money anymore,” He began and I held my breath, not wanting to miss a word, not daring to interrupt.

  “It never really was, not really. These people care about loyalty and control. They actually prefer if you owe them, so they have something on you. Even if I lost this fight, it would be enough to pay them back for Dexter, but they don’t really care about that. I owe them a favor so they want me to win ‘cause they’re betting on it. This past week I’ve had to slip back into who I was. I was wrong when I told you they still got my back, they don’t care about me, just what I can do for them.”

  When it was clear he wasn’t going to say more I questioned him. “So you have to win. But will they back off after or stick around?”

  “When I win, I’m clear to go. Rusnak promised.”

  Something about the way his eyes shifted and breath hitched caused a jolt to shoot through me, a warning.

  “Why wouldn’t they bet on you losing? Isn’t it easier to throw a fight, a safer bet?”

  He sucked in air. I was getting close to what he was hiding. “More money to be made if I win. And my career will still be solid, they think long term, if I ever owe them a favor again then I’ll have even bigger names to fight, with more money.”

  “So they aren’t letting you walk away.” I still managed to sink deeper, where was the bottom?

  He shook his head and gripped my leg. “Once I’m clear, I’m done. I’m not going to owe them shit in the future. And Dexter’s done too; I won’t bail his ass out anymore if he fucks up again. But Regan,” He paused, and I held my breath again, bracing myself. “I’m only out if I win in the third round.”

  “What does that mean? Why?”

  “The biggest payoffs are for calling the round. They want me to win in the third round. That’s what they bet on. They are not trying to make this easy but I can do it. I will win in the third round.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I’ve done it before. I’ve set up fights for them before. But this is the last time.”

  We sat in silence for a while, my mind shutting down from overload and exhaustion. But as I struggled to sort through my thoughts I realized the most important question hadn’t been answered.

  As the early morning light filled our car I turned to him. “What happens if you don’t win in the third round?”

  “That’s not going to happen.” He claimed firmly.

  I shook my head. “What if it does?”

  He turned to me, an unreadable look crossing over him before he focused on the road. “Then you run. Far away from me.”

  This time when I sunk it felt like I had finally hit bottom, and it nearly shattered me.

  32: Drowning

  A PART OF ME WANTED TO TAKE off now, not even wait for tonight and the results. And it felt like a part of me did, just tore away and bailed.

  But the part of me that was left didn’t care about his warning. I wasn’t asking what was going to happen to me.

  “But what about you? What will happen to you?” My voice came out in a whisper, unable to get enough air.

  He glanced at me a few times, but I was beginning to think he wasn’t going to answer. Then he ran his hand through my hair, brushing it back from my face.

  “I don’t want you to worry about that. I’ll handle whatever happens.”

  I grabbed his hand and trapped it between both of mine as I brought it to my lap. “You worry about me, so I can worry about you.” But I knew worrying was pointless. I had worried about Nan, but she needed action.

  He squeezed my hand as we drove through the tunnel into New York City. “Neither of us has to worry because I am going to win. Let’s leave it at that.”

  I dropped the questions. He didn’t need them right now. He needed sleep, focus, and confidence. Instead I said, “You will,” and then brought his hand up to my lips, sealing the wish.

  ***

  Gage turned to me in the elevator and said, “When we get to the suite, go straight to our room. I don’t want you to get pulled into the drama that might be waiting. You’re exhausted and need sleep. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “What drama?”

  He stretched his neck to either side. “Silas will be pissed that I’m cutting it so close. Dexter, I don’t know what to expect from him, but it doesn’t matter. Just go straight to the room, alright?” He grabbed my hand as the doors opened and we walked two doors down to the suite.

  I scanned the room as I entered. Dexter wasn’t around, but Silas was waiting. He jumped up from the couch and stomped over to Gage.

  “God Dammit boy, you have to be ready for press at noon. Get your head in this and focus on what’s important.” I’d never seen Silas so flustered; he was angry but nervousness was clearly running under his words, evident in the way he shifted from foot to foot.

  Gage dropped my hand and nudged me in the direction of our room. I walked away, but slow enough so I could hear the conversation.

  “Don’t fuckin’ think you can lecture me anymore. I know what’s important and I’ll be ready. Where’s Dexter?” Gage’s voice was low and controlled.

  “He’s in the room, hasn’t come out since his girl left yesterday.”

  I paused in front of the door to the bedroom and turned to look back at them. Leona left? Dexter and her seemed to be doing fine when I last saw them.

  Gage met my eyes an
d nodded to the door in a clear command, then strode towards Dexter’s room, disappearing inside.

  “Where did Leona go?” I asked Silas.

  He turned towards me, his eyes narrowing as he thought. “She went home. Gage scared her off when he blew up at Dexter yesterday. I’m surprised you came back; does that mean you’re still willing to fight? That I’m still your manager?”

  I stiffened my spine, standing up tall. “No, you’re not my manager.” I finally listened to Gage and went into the bedroom, shutting the door on Silas.

  I didn’t even bother changing, just took off my pants and slid into bed. The cool sheets and soft mattress felt like respite to my drained body.

  But my thoughts weren’t given the same break. They continued to run over the last twenty-four hours, and Nan was screaming in my head. I tried to stop myself, but I couldn’t. I played out different scenarios, but kept coming back to one. Nan on the floor, on her stomach, clawing to get away from Damien as he cut into her, stabbing her repeatedly in the back. Seven times.

  I curled into myself, under the blankets, fighting the tears that were already streaming down my face, wanting sleep to block out these thoughts. I had always been able to sleep, even in the worst of conditions, even under stress.

  Nan had questioned that before. Ever since I knew her, she relied on medicine to sleep, said she had too many nightmares and wondered how I didn’t. I had always thought of sleep as an escape; my nightmares occurred when I was awake.

  The bed dipped beside me and the covers shifted. I struggled to breathe without letting Gage hear my tears. He needed to sleep, and I didn’t want him wasting any more time worrying about me.

  A gentle touch brushed the hair from my face, his warmth radiated into my back as he shifted closer, and his soft lips kissed the corner of my closed eye.

  I’m sure he meant to make me feel better, but it only made me feel worse and a sob shook me as I squeezed tighter into myself. I had to get control so he could sleep.

  His arms scooped me up, turning me to face him, and he wrapped me in tightly. My tears flowed onto his bare chest as his lips brushed the top of my head.

  Unfolding myself, I brought a hand up to his chest and pushed away slightly. “It’s okay. I’m okay. Really. You need to sleep.”

  His only response was to trail feathery kisses over my forehead and cheeks.

  “Please. You don’t have to do this. It’ll make me feel worse. You need your sleep for the fight tonight.” But my hands glided over his chest and around to his back, pulling myself in tighter, letting him surround me.

  He kept one arm wrapped around my lower back and the other cupped my face, moving me to look at him. His eyes searched my face, and I searched his. So many emotions seemed to fill his gaze, but mostly I saw concern and uncertainty. It was the nervous uncertainty that had me pulling him closer, practically melting into him. I wanted to fill him with confidence.

  I pressed my cheek to his chest, hearing his strong steady heartbeat.

  His hand left my face, trailing down my arm and over my hip. His fingertips glided back up to my stomach, running under the hem of my shirt.

  “I told myself I wouldn’t do this, till after the fight. But…” His voice was breathless, and he gulped in air, “I want you so bad. I don’t think I can sleep with you next to me.” His hand gripped my hips as I attempted to pull away. “But I don’t want you anywhere else. You belong here with me. I want to kiss you. Can I do that?”

  I leaned away, confused. Of course he could, but then I realized he hadn’t kissed me since that night everything went down. I nodded and wiped my cheeks, trying to clean up my face for him.

  He brought his lips to mine tentatively; they barely grazed. The kiss was shallow but still lit a fire that I desperately needed, pushing away the cold that ached in my bones. His tongue lightly licked at my lips until I captured it in-between them and sucked him in. The next moment, he rolled me on my back, deepening the kiss, and the fire erupted, burning all other thoughts.

  His hands moved all over me, memorizing all my curves as I did the same to him. I ran my fingers under the elastic of his boxers and felt him shudder under my touch.

  He broke the kiss, raising himself up with his arms braced on either side of me. His head dropped and blocked his face from view as he spoke. “I can’t do this. It’s not fair to you.” He brought his forehead to mine and whispered, “I love you, but I can’t make you mine till after my fight. It’s not right.”

  Another piece of me was just ripped away. I had lost too many pieces and was scattered, unable to even pretend to pull myself back together.

  I cupped his face in my hands and kissed his lips softly. “I’m already yours. That’s why I’m here. But whatever you need, I’m here.” And at the moment, it was true; all that was left of me were the parts that belonged to him, the parts that he had saved from drowning.

  He moved towards me and hesitated slightly. His lips brushed my ear and his warm breath sent chills through me as he breathed, “I need you.”

  As his hands roamed over me and he trailed hot kisses down my neck, I gave up fighting and let him take over. He pulled my shirt over my head, but left on my bra, not pressing the issue.

  Our movements were smooth and in sync, with an easy flow. He made me forget anything but this moment. Even time became a non-issue. This is what we both needed.

  His naked body rose over mine as he removed his fingers from between my legs and inserted the tip of himself. He slid in, filling me, completing me. And we both held tight as our bodies joined as deep as possible. But we couldn’t stay still for long.

  He rocked in and out and soon pressure began mounting for us, and his attempts at control were gone and replaced with raw emotion.

  He slammed into me, over and over, covering my cries with his lips. I drank in his grunts. Our bodies were slick with exertion as my core tightened and snapped, a shattering release that racked my body in uncontrollable spasms.

  He slumped over me, his own body quivering as his hot release filled me. He held himself still inside me, breathing raggedly into my neck. His breathing calmed, falling back under his control, but he didn’t move and neither did I. I felt him soften in me, but he only wrapped his arms around me, keeping me still. And within moments, I submitted to my exhaustion and fell asleep surrounded by his warmth.

  33: Decision Made

  HE WAS SHIFTING AWAY FROM ME, SLOWLY removing his arms from around my body.

  “You’re leaving?” My stomach twisted as I gripped his waist and kept my head on his chest.

  He had stiffened when I first spoke but quickly relaxed and stroked my hair. “Go back to sleep. I have to get ready to go, but I’ll see you tonight after the fight.”

  I unwrapped my arms from him. “Where are the tickets?”

  He shook his head. “You’re not going. Stay here.”

  Sitting up in bed, I met his eyes. “Of course I’m going. I’m not missing this fight.”

  “It may not be safe for you to be in my guest seats.”

  But he didn’t sound firm, so I pressed the issue. “Then I’ll get different tickets and sit somewhere else.”

  He nodded. “Alright. You can pick up tickets at will call.”

  His quick resignation made me feel sick. I was happy to get my way because there was no way I was missing the fight, but he seemed drained, and that wasn’t good.

  I slid my arms around him again and pressed my cheek to his chest. “I’ll see you tonight after the fight. I’ll be here.” I didn’t want to bring up the possibility of losing, but I hoped he knew I meant I’d be here no matter what happened.

  His hands ran up and down my back. “I know. I’ve got to get ready.” He pushed me back slightly to look at my face. His eyes bounced over me and then his lips pressed to mine, a brief spark before he pulled away.

  ***

  Restless, I paced the common area of the suite, counting the seconds with my feet. I paused at the window, staring out a
t the busy city, the people going in all directions on the sidewalks, and the cars jammed on the street.

  The door to the suite opened. I spun around as Dexter stepped into the room, panting and covered in sweat.

  Adrenaline pumped through me, ready to react, until I saw him remove his headphones and look up at me with a slight smile.

  “Hey. It’s good you’re back, but I’m sorry about your friend.”

  His words tightened the knots in my stomach. Sorry was a stupid thing to say, and I didn’t want to think about her right now.

  He walked over to where I stood by the window. “I went for a run. Had to clear my mind. Did you hear Leona left?” His eyebrow rose as he looked down at me.

  I nodded. “Why? Where did she go?”

  He sighed and sunk down on the ground. He stretched himself out on the floor, looking up at the ceiling.

  “She went home ’cause I told her to.” He lifted his head to look at me, the corner of his mouth lifting wryly. “But I can’t figure out why I thought that was a good idea.”

  I sat cross-legged on the floor next to him and picked at the fibers of the carpet. “Oh yeah? So did she leave mad or what?”

  “Angry. She was angry.” He closed his eyes. “It’s probably for the best. That’s probably what I was thinking when I said it. But…” He shrugged and grabbed my hand. “What about you, Rea? You still angry with me?”

  I pulled my hand from his. I had told him I would forgive him if he let me leave to see Nan. But that didn’t mean we were friends. Right now, though, I welcomed the distraction of talking to him.

  I shook my head. “I’ve got too much going on to be angry with you.”

  “I hear that and I’ll take it.” He propped himself up with his elbows behind him. “Maybe after tonight I can fix things with Leona, too.”

  I looked at him. “I thought you said it was better this way?”

  “What the hell do I know? I miss that girl. I love her and I know she loves me. This week has been stressful, that’s all.”