by Maya Rossi
“Let me go first.”
“I don’t want to know.”
Ava propped her face with her hands on his chest. “Who and when.”
“I thought I answered before.”
“It didn’t register.” Ava dropped her face to his chest when his expression turned teasing. “just answer the damn question.”
“I was thirteen, she was fourteen. I saw the blood and almost freaked out but we managed. My mother she--”
He never mentioned his mother, and she was curious. Barely moving a muscle, Ava ventured to ask. “She what?”
“I got thirty lashes because I can’t lie to her. Then when Janet said I raped her, I got another forty.”
Speechless, Ava stared at him in disbelief. His skin went from warm and soft to cold and hard in seconds. He delivered the statement so matter-of-factly, Ava couldn’t contain her horror. “Brayden--”
“I need to work out.” He slipped out of bed and began gathering his gear. “You can stay if you want--”
“I will wait.”
“Suit yourself.” He winced, eyes tracking back to hers. “I’m sorry. Thanks for waiting” Brayden clenched his jaw tight. “I never want to talk about it.”
“Huh, sure. That’s… totally fine.”
Round five
Chapter Fifteen
How did a kid endure thirty strokes of the cane? What size was the cane, how long? With how much ferocity was each lash delivered? Ava turned over in bed, as restless awake as she had been asleep. A howling terrifying rage pierced through her middle. She could picture a thirteen-year-old Brayden, stoic and accepting of whatever punishment he felt he deserved.
Deserved.
Was it any wonder that was Brayden’s favorite word? They had brought him up in the classic reward and punishment way. Nothing earned was given, anything earned was grudgingly given. Suddenly, Ava wanted to see Brayden with her own eyes, make sure he was all right. After slaying whatever demons he needed to last night, he hadn’t returned.
She padded out to the living room barefooted and found him seated in the living room watching television. Eyes stretched out wide to their fullest extent, body frozen in shock, Brayden hit the replay button on the remote. It must not have obeyed his command because he hit and hit it over again. With a snarl, he threw the offending remote against the wall where it shattered on impact.
Ava stood unmoving with her hands pressed against her chest. This agitated, out-of-control man wasn’t the Brayden she knew.
Finally, he grabbed his phone, putting a call onto Luke. Curious about the reason for his meltdown, Ava took her phone and went online.
It seemed the anchors for sports centre ran a public poll asking the coward or champion question. A whopping ninety percent believed Brayden Marshall a coward for not taking the fight against interim champion Ryan Highland.
“No one has challenged me, I’m not some upcoming fighter eager to get fights under my belt. If Ryan wants me, let him come for me.”
To give him privacy, Ava went to take her bath.
∞∞∞
The second Ava left, Brayden put a call to Ryan. Pinching the bridge of his nose for patience, he struggled not to lose it. Everything he had worked for, the reputation he fought hard to build was fraying at the seams.
“Brother.”
“What the hell? What’s with the poll and my ninety percent. Ninety percent, Ryan.”
“I’m sorry bro, it’s Isaac. He granted an interview last night, I tried to call--”
“What did he say?”
Ryan sighed. “He said he reached out to your team, and you refused.”
Brayden groaned, behind his eyelids he could see the ninety percent in capital letters. Benjamin was no coward. “They’re calling us a coward.”
“You’re no coward brother and everyone knows it.”
He shook his head. “This is my reputation and--”
“Brayden?” Ava called tentatively.
“Dude, who’s that? You never told me you were seeing someone,” Ryan hooted loudly.
“Get your fucking egg head of a promoter to take down those words or if we ever get into the ring, I’ll make sure it’s the last time you fight.”
Brayden cut the call and faced Ava, sure she will see the lie on his face. Lying had never been something he did well.
Ava was staring at him in bewilderment. “Why do you hate Highland so much?”
Brayden blinked, shocked at the question. “He’s not my friend, not when he wants my belt. As a reporter you know this.”
“It’s still a sport, Brayden. It’s no call for threats.” Cheeks flushed with anger, eyes shooting him daggers, Ava stalked out of his house. Before Brayden would go after her, the phone in his hand rang.
“Ryan--”
“You’re on speaking terms with Ryan Highland?” Sarah Jacobs asked.
Brayden closed his eyes and exhaled harshly. There was only one way to play this. “Yes, mother. We were finalizing the terms for the fight.”
“Shouldn’t Paul be doing that as your promoter?”
“There was a part of the contract--” Brayden broke off, unable to continue with the lie. “Mother, what do you want?”
“Take the fight and end this coward or champion narrative that airhead started.”
As always, any interaction with his mother left him rattled. Brayden went to the gym to beat his body into submission. If he would fight Ryan, and it looked like he was, he needed to build up his endurance.
When his private line rang, Brayden answered the call with resignation. “What?”
“Your father says not to take the fight,” the lawyer said.
Brayden tilted his head back, trying to conjure up an image of the lawyer and failing. But the father he hadn’t seen in fifteen years his memory drew up perfectly. He saw the rage filled dark eyes, the powerful shoulders and tree trunk thighs. As a child, Joseph Sidwell had seemed like a giant. As an adult, he was a man Brayden wanted to erase from existence.
“I’m dead, remember?” Brayden replied wearily. “I will get an injunction against you — Mr — I don’t even know your name. You see how sick this is? Call this number again and--”
“I won’t call again, my office can’t afford a suit filed against--”
“Good.”
“Let me quickly add and with all urgency that your father begged that you not take the fight. He knows why you’re doing this. He said to forget about Benjamin--”
“Shut the fuck up.” Brayden clutched the phone hard as a red haze obscured his vision. “Do not call his name. He has no right. And fucking erase this number.”
Chapter Sixteen
“I was out of line, I’m sorry.”
Spread on her back with her feet wide apart, Ava deliberately chose the heat of the moment to make her apology. He stopped putting on the condom and gave her a look of disbelief.
“You think you can get the least reaction by apologizing now? Don’t try to manipulate me, Ava. That I don’t need the apology doesn’t mean I wasn’t going to address it. Keep your opinion out of my professional life unless it’s something we’ve agreed on.”
“Okay,” Ava whispered. His anger only aroused her further. “You know one condom is enough for normal people? There’s no need to wrap up twice.”
His answer was to push her feet higher and thrust into her roughly. Yes, sex with an angry Brayden was definitely hotter. Moaning, she raked her fingers down his sides, savoring every brush of his long, hard dick against her heated insides.
The lewd sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled her ears like the soundtrack to a porn flick. His chest hairs dragged across the sensitive skin of her breasts with each thrust of his hips. Between her thighs, his powerful form and hands pushed her feet as wide apart as it would go. The strain in her thighs, the burning in her lungs and the greedy clench of her drippy cleft around his unyielding hardness multiplied her pleasure. The drugging desire sharpened to its finest edge and suddenly it
was too much.
“Brayden!” Ava cried, reaching forward to dig her teeth into the ropey muscle of his shoulder she could reach.
He stiffened above her. Out of breath, Ava released his flesh with a sigh. “Sorry. I just--”
“Yes.” He pushed into her welcoming heat. “Harder.”
“I should bite you?”
“Yes,” he grunted. “Harder. Mark me, Ava.”
With a wary look at his flushed face, Ava leaned forward, taking a long lick of the spot, savoring the taste of sweat and man. He groaned in response, his hands around her upper thighs tightened almost painfully. In retaliation, Ava sank her teeth into the hard muscle, hard.
The pain seemed to pulse through his huge frame like a live wire. With a shout, he pulled out and came into the condom.
Panting hard, Ava stared at nothing. They had made love too many times to count now, and he never came inside her. Even with a condom. Picking at the sheets through her fingers, she thought of a way to broach the subject. Her privates fluttered around emptiness, increasing her feeling of dissatisfaction. Ava drew her spread legs closed, dislodging Brayden’s hold.
He blinked in disorientation, sinking into the bed beside her. Annoyed with herself for agreeing to such an uncertain relationship. Even though she loved him, this was going nowhere fast. She slipped out of bed and began gathering her things.
An uneasy silence descended between them as Brayden watched her pack, shoving things haphazardly into her bag.
“What did I do this time?” he asked wearily.
“This time?” Ava propped her hand on her hips to give him her full attention. “Have you done something else other than the obvious?”
“The obvious?” The words were slow, like he was finding it difficult to get his brain working after their lovemaking.
Ava refused to be flattered. “You don’t come inside me, you insist on using two condoms after protection, I know nothing about you short of--”
“We agreed to sex, Ava. Nothing else.”
His closed off expression stoked the fires of her anger further even though he was right. “Just because we have sex doesn’t mean you can’t discuss things that matter to you, Hannah--”
“What happened to ‘I want you to make love to me not propose?”
The deriding words hurt but not as much as the next.
“My private life will remain private. My family? You want me to talk about them to you? It’s not even up to two months and you’re changing your tune. I trusted you.”
Ava threw up her hands in exasperation. “I don’t mean your family. I mean your wrapping up twice? It’s just one problem we have--”
“It’s non-negotiable,” he said flatly.
“Don’t you see? It shows an inherent lack of trust. What do you think will happen?”
“What exactly is the point of this argument? You don’t want me to wrap up twice or you want more out of this relationship?”
Ava sighed. “Never mind.”
“Suit yourself.”
She had to bite her lip to hold back the stinging retort that sprang to her lips. “Ass,” she muttered, unable to hold out any longer.
“Dudehead,” he fired back.
Ava had to bite her lip not to smile at that. “Should I ask if the rumors about a fight with Highland being around the corner is true or is that also above my pay grade?”
His lips twitched in amusement. “Paygrade?”
“Is there a fight?”
“They will make the announcement in a week.”
“That’s a short time,” Ava observed, surprised.
He shrugged. “It’s part of the marketing plan or something.”
The chances of being picked to cover a fight of that magnitude was almost nonexistent. Ava wanted to scream her frustration. What was the point of living in a city she hated because of a job she couldn’t do? Mason was the likeliest candidate. Perhaps there was a way she could use the information from Brayden to get an in with Frank.
“Spend the night?”
Ava shook her head, letting her eyes linger on the body and face she adored. To avoid temptation, she turned away. “No. I have some things to take care of.”
∞∞∞
Ava groaned into the fluffy towel. Jami barked once, nudging her leg where she sat hunched over the bathroom sink. Her phone rang as it had been doing all morning. Jami barked again.
“Probably Nance again, the nerve of her, asking for my blessing after everything.”
Ava rubbed her tender stomach before reaching for Jami. She buried her face in his fur, breathing deeply, willing her stomach to settle.
She crawled into bed and grabbed her laptop to watch the pre-fight face off between Brayden and Ryan Highland. As Ava stared at the two men, her heart began beating faster. Jami wedged herself close, resting a leg against her stomach. Rubbing an idle hand, down her back, Ava tried to follow the pre-fight press conference.
Brayden and Ryan stared at each other, stone faced, giving nothing away. Physically, there was nothing to separate the two men. Statistically, Brayden was by far the better fighter. But with his return from injury and Ryan’s meteoric rise, the momentum was undoubtedly not on Brayden’s side. For the first time in his career he would go into a fight as an underdog.
The enmity between the two champions had been the overarching narrative in the buildup to the fight. Following their bust up during the YES awards, everyone expected a tense press conference. Some sports analysts even predicted the pre-fight face off would be both a physical and mental battle.
Ava covered her face with her hands watching through the gap in her fingers, afraid the men would come to blows. To everyone’s surprise, they were civil. It was probably the most peaceful face off in boxing history. Yet, underneath the calm, a storm was brewing. It was there in the curt nod Ryan and Brayden exchanged, in the intense focus on their faces and the way their team avoided each other.
About an hour after the press conference, someone knocked on her door. When Ava opened the door to Brayden, her breath hitched, throat thickening in emotion.
“I hate fighting with you,” Brayden whispered, his face a mask of shadows. He braced a hand on her door, a bit of that pre-fight danger leaching through. Ava took an involuntary step back. “You — you mean too much to me Ava. D-don’t ask for what I cannot… give.”
His voice broke. Jami ran out, barking and jumping around Brayden in greeting. He bent on one knee. “Hey.”
Watching him with her dog, the love and adoration they had for each other, bled the fight out of her. She turned from the open door. A minute later, the door shut behind her. He followed her into the bedroom, taking off his clothes as he went. He sat naked on the side of the bed, his arms caging her in.
“Are you all right?” He ran a cool finger over her cheeks. “I know how badly you wanted to be there today.”
“No, this is one I wanted to sit out.”
Brayden looked surprised. “I find that hard to believe. You practically set the stage. Why?”
She shook her head, unable to speak. He kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose and finally her mouth. Ava’s eyes filled with tears. She cleared her throat, blinking rapidly. “I — ah, my stomach’s been hurting.”
Quietly, he spread a hand over her stomach, his huge paws encompassing her belly. With the other, he got out his phone.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Getting a doctor--”
“No, no, I’m fine now.”
“Sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Should I make you something you can put down?” He waggled his eyebrows playfully. “I assure you it will be great.”
“What would you know about feeding an unsettled stomach?”
The shadow of something indefinable flooded his face. “You’ll be surprised.”
“Just lie with me,” Ava urged.
He got in, spooning her from behind. Ava sighed, savoring the warmth and solidity of Br
ayden. After sometime, he kissed her temple, drawing a smile from her.
“To think I worried you would have burned the house down with Jami in it or something,” he groused.
“Thank goodness I’m not that predictable.”
“You’re taking this remarkably well, who did Frank send?”
“Eddy and Mason.”