Sacrifice

by Adriana Locke

  I gotta blow or go.

  This motherfucker wants a street fight, I can do that.

  I relax just enough so Davidson smells blood. Being the impulsive prick I know him to be, he takes full mount.

  I summon every last bit of strength I have. I only have a few seconds left and I’m going to finish this fight, one way or another, the way I know. The way that’s not won me medals or accolades, but the way that’s saved my life in the past.

  Sal said to remember where I came from; I came from the streets. I’m going to finish this like a street fighter.

  Davidson straddles me and I explode. I rare up and blast my head into Davidson’s face, stunning him. I wrap my legs around him. I reach my arm over his neck and put my forearm under his chin, locking my hands together. As I rock back, basically trying to pull his head off his body in a Guillotine choke, I feel my own head spin. I yell out, the pain in my neck so intense I almost can’t hold on.

  I can feel the panic take over Davidson. He knows he’s caught now and has a few moments to escape or this is over. His hands free, he rocks my body with punches from both sides, each blast only intensifying my pain. My neck is pressed between the mat and the corner of the cage, Hunter’s 190-pound body pressing down onto one spot in my neck.

  The pain is white-hot. Blinding. I can’t see anything clearly.

  Each impact feels like a bomb is going off inside me. He hits me again, a bunny shot that shouldn’t even register, but it does. I flex my arms, squeezing harder to keep him still, and something cracks in my back. I can actually hear it over the blood pounding in my ears, over the crowd, over Sal, over Hunter’s groans.

  The pain is ridiculous. My body relaxes for a split second, my head feeling light, and Hunter starts to break free. Quickly, I crank it down again as hard as I can. As I do, flashes of black sweep through my vision.

  JULIA

  My knees buckle. My airway clenches as I watch the image on the screen. The announcers are shouting, bantering back and forth so quickly that I couldn’t make sense of it if I wanted to. But I don’t. I can’t. I can’t do anything but watch the man I love fight a battle not just for my daughter’s life, but maybe for his own.

  I fall to my knees, the image on the television blurry through the tears. He’s struggling, I can see it. I can feel the panic through the screen. He’s working to hold Hunter in place. The sweat on his body catches the light from above the cage and I can see his muscles flexing, pulling, grasping to end the fight. Hunter is trying to roll, pulling at Crew’s arms to release but he manages to hold on.

  “Hold on, baby! Hold on,” I cry out, my voice splintering through the tears. “Please. Hold on . . .”

  CREW

  I pull the move in tight as everything starts to blur. The darkness is even heavier this time, the noises coming at me like I’m in a tunnel. I try to find Will’s voice, or Sal’s, but I can’t make it out. I can’t find anything to hold onto.

  My entire body feels like it’s on fire. I want to let go. I need a reprieve from the pain.

  I feel Hunter starting to panic and I know that this is going to be the end for one of us. I’m either going to cinch this down and cut off his airway or he’s going to get away and pound me into the mat. If I let him up, I know I won’t be able to fight back.

  My head starts to spin, my neck feeling I’ve been shot with a cannon. I, too, start to panic, my need to just sleep starting to overtake any other thoughts.

  “Man up, little brother.”

  “It’s going to take both of us to protect her.”

  The crowd becomes clear. I feel Hunter’s body heavy on me. I feel his sweat drip off onto me, the smoothness of his gloves as they glance off my body.

  I hear Will shouting at me to fight. I hear Sal telling me to remember what I need to do.

  I grit my teeth and pull down on his neck as hard as I can, pulling his legs down and away from his body. He gurgles and I feel him swiping at me. I cinch down one final time with everything I have.

  Pain sears every nerve in my body, causing me to yell out. I hear the crack that resonates through every fiber of my being rattle through my ears. The agony is unrelenting, but the black that follows it is welcome.

  The darkness lures me with the promise of rest, a break from the fire. I know I have to hold on. I squeeze tighter, but the pressure I’m exerting isn’t as strong as it was.

  I bite down and yank one.

  Final.

  Time.

  The last thing I feel is a tap on my shoulder and I float away into the darkness.

  The End

  JULIA

  Two years later

  The grass is soft, still damp from the rain last night. The air is unseasonably warm, but the wind is very chilly. I smile as Ever races her way through the cemetery, heading for the stone in the back. She knows her way here like the back of her hand.

  Michael babbles on my hip, laughing as a red bird dips in front of us and lands on a tree on the edge of the grass.

  I approach the stone and smile. I don’t cry here anymore. I used to sit and pour my heart out, ask him why he left us. But I don’t do that anymore. It’s not that I have things figured out; it’s more that I’ve learned to have a little faith.

  I look at Everleigh, pushing the slush off the bottom of the stone with her boot, telling her daddy stories about her recent adventures. She tells him a story about how we visited the pediatric oncology unit last week and delivered a bunch of games we collected in a fundraiser. The whole thing was her idea, a way to brighten the days of the kids in a precarious position she was in herself not long ago.

  It’s been almost a year since she was declared in remission. Almost a year since my world became right and I’ve been able to breathe. I know we aren’t completely out of the woods and there is a chance of side effects later or of the cancer returning. But I’ve learned a few things in this process. To enjoy each and every day like it’s your last. That life throws you curveballs, that it brings people in and out of your life as it sees fit. You just have to go with it and find a way to move on.

  A key to moving on is to realize that you can’t let your experiences go in vain. You have to use what you’ve been through to make a difference to someone else. You have to use the trials and tribulations, losses and devastations, to make someone else’s life better somehow.

  “I’ve been taking swimming lessons, Daddy!” Everleigh says, playing with the flowers in the urn. “I can hold my breath practically forever! I can’t wait to go surfing this summer. I have your old board in my room, propped against the wall. Mommy says it’s too big, but I’m going to try it anyway. She also says I have to use a life jacket, no matter how good I can swim. If she catches me without one, she says I’ll never be allowed to go to the beach again.”

  “I’m not kidding about that,” I remind her.

  “I know,” she pouts. “I miss you a lot. You wouldn’t believe how tall I’m getting! And you should see Michael! He can say Everleigh now. Well, he says something like “Ewerwee,” but it’s close enough!”

  “Ewerwee!” Michael blurts, making us all laugh.

  “See?” Ever says, leaning against the stone. “We can’t stay long today because we have to go to this fundraiser thing. I don’t even know what that means, really, but Mommy has been really excited about it all week.”

  Ever circles the stone again and plants a kiss on the top. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “Wub you, Da-da,” Michael repeats.

  I choke back a sob.

  “Ever, why don’t you take Michael and head back to the car. I’ll be right up.”

  “Okay!” She takes Michael from my hip and places him on hers. He gives her a open-mouthed kiss on her cheeks and she giggles. I watch them make their way back the way they came before turning my attention back to the stone.

  “I miss you,” I whisper. I run my hand along the stone. “I miss you so much.”

  Birds chatter in the tree-line and it breaks the s
tillness.

  “I wish you were here to go with us today. You’d be proud of what we’ve created. Taking inner city kids and giving them a place to go. You’d like that, I think.” I sniffle. “We’ve gotten tons of support from the community and Sal is going to spend a few hours a week over there as a mentor. You wouldn’t believe the people that want to be a part of this.”

  I wrap my sweater tightly against my body and plant a kiss on the top of the stone like Ever did. “I love you. Always.”

  A hand touches my shoulder and I smile. I know he hates coming here and I understand why. It’s hard for him, too.

  “You ready?” he asks.

  I turn to see his smiling face. “Yes. Let’s go, Will.”

  JULIA

  We walk into the building, Will carrying Michael and Ever holding my hand. There is a crowd of people seated in folding chairs facing a collapsible stage along the back wall. They turn as we walk in. Some of them smile, some walk over and shake our hands and introduce themselves.

  We take our seats at the front of the room next to Olivia, Macie, Mrs. Ficht, Victor, Brett, Adam, and Dane. I personally asked them all to come. They each were instrumental, in their own way, in getting us here.

  I look at my smiling daughter.

  She’s beautiful in her little yellow dress, her hair now to her chin. The sparkle is back in her blue eyes, just like her daddy’s. And her mischievous grin is so reminiscent of her other daddy, it makes my heart clinch.

  Her life is a mixture of two of the greatest men I’ve ever known.

  She opens her little purse and takes out a piece of Laffy Taffy, something I’m certain she’s addicted to at this point. She nibbles on the candy, swinging her legs back and forth.

  I feel Will move at my side. I look at him, but his eyes are trained on Macie. She gives him a tight grin and he smiles brightly in return. She shakes her head and crosses her arms and turns back to the stage. I have no idea what’s going on between them, but that’s nothing unusual. I think Will’s met his match with her.

  The room erupts in applause as Sal takes the stage. He taps the mic and waits for everyone to settle. As Sal begins to speak, Michael scrambles off Will’s lap and tries to climb the stage. I start towards him and Sal laughs. He waves me off and scoops up my son. Michael jabbers while Sal situates himself behind the podium once again.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I want to thank you all for joining us today. I’m so proud to be a part of this organization.”

  He readjusts the microphone and clears his throat.

  “A few years ago, I was driving to Providence when I stumbled upon a group of boys fighting behind a supermarket. Two of them caught my eye right away. They were tough, street smart, and had a spark about them that’s hard to find. I invited them to train at the Blackrock Gym and they became regulars. They became students. They became friends.”

  “The Gentry boys came from the inner city. They had no father and a working mother. They had, to put it bluntly, no future. But what they did have was potential.”

  Michael twists in Sal’s arms and he sets him down. He makes a beeline to his favorite person. “Will!” he screeches. Will heads to the stage and catches my son. They sit next to me, Michael playing with Will’s keys.

  “Gage and Crew Gentry were given the opportunity to make something of themselves. By coming to the gym, they stayed out of a lot of trouble. They stayed off the streets, off drugs. They were given the chance to better themselves . . . and they did. Both kids grew up to be men worthy of respect.”

  “When Julia Gentry came to me a few months ago with her idea, I knew I had to be involved. This program will give countless kids in the same position as the Gentry boys the same opportunities and more. They’ll be given a place to go, something to turn to besides the evils of the streets. They’ll learn about discipline, respect, and giving back to others. I’m honored to attach my name to this project.”

  “Now,” he says, a smile on his face, “without further ado, I give you the man that brought this full-circle, Mr. Crew Gentry, everyone!”

  The crowd leaps to their feet, clapping enthusiastically. We watch him make his way across the stage. He comes across briskly, rolling his wheelchair like it’s an Indy car. He looks at me and winks.

  He’s getting stronger every day. For weeks, he lay in the hospital bed, unable to move. They said he’d never walk again. They said to prepare myself, that Crew would be an invalid. The doctors would walk out and Crew would tell me they were full of shit. He promised me he’d walk again.

  And Crew doesn’t break his promises. Not anymore.

  He gets to the podium and stands. He rests his forearms on the wood, taking the weight off his back. He’s been more active than usual, trying to oversee the construction of the building and helping with Michael. He still tries to do everything he could before and some days it’s just too much. He’s learned to let Will take some of the pressure off, like taking me to the cemetery this morning. When he gets back on his feet, because I’m sure he will, he’ll make up for lost time.

  He’s so handsome. He smiles at the crowd and it takes my breath away. If you just saw him standing there, you’d never know he was almost completely paralyzed. You’d never know he spent weeks in the hospital, unable to move at all. You’d never know the fight he made to get his legs working again. You’d never see the struggle that it still is every morning, when his body is tight and he has to force himself out of bed. But he does it. And he never complains. He just says he’d do it all over again because it saved Everleigh. The money he won from the fight by beating Hunter Davidson got our daughter into the therapy that destroyed the cancer in her little body.

  “I want to thank you all for coming.” He looks around the room, taking in the supporters, media, mentors and guests. Finally, his gaze rests on me. “Today is the anniversary of my brother, Gage’s, death and it seemed like a fitting day to open the for-EVER en-GAGE Foundation. It’s the brainstorm of my wife, Julia, and is in memory of my brother and in celebration of our daughter, Everleigh.”

  He shifts his weight and I know he’s hurting. But he’s going to say what he has to say; he won’t let the pain stop him.

  “Our goal is to engage the bodies and minds of the kids of Boston, kids like my brother and I growing up. We will give them opportunities to see what they’re capable of, to develop their interests and talents, to give them a place to go instead of the alleyways of the city.”

  “One key area we want to focus on is community involvement. It’s our goal to show the youth that they are a part of a larger collective, that they can and should make a difference in our communities and to those that are less fortunate.”

  He glances down at Ever and pauses. “We will create funds through our Red Slipper Initiative to support families that are going through medical emergencies. We will raise money for research for many causes, but especially neuroblastoma, a cause close to our hearts.” His voice begins to break.

  “No matter what the kids that come into our building have been through, no matter what they’ve already done, they’ll get another chance. I’m a firm believer in second chances.”

  “Getting this foundation up and running is not going to be easy. But I’ll tell you something that I know from personal experience. When things seem unbeatable, you have to keep pressing forward. Because no matter how bad they look, you can always win. You always have the power. You just have to realize it.”

  Crew glances at Ever. She’s smiling adoringly at her dad, nodding her approval of him using a reference to their favorite movie. He beams and I’ve never felt more blessed.

  “The best things in life don’t come easy, but those things are the ones worth the sacrifice. This is something I can promise you. And this foundation is worth all of our time and energy.”

  I grab my daughter’s hand and squeeze it, my heart bursting with so much gratitude. I watch my husband’s lips turn up, the corners touching his sparkling blue eyes.

  �
�I love you,” I whisper. I know he reads my lips because his face lights up. He winks and knocks gently against the podium four times.

  Crew Gentry has been my prince this whole time after all.

  I always imagined writers kicking back with a glass of champagne as they wrote their acknowledgements; that’s so far from the truth. At least with me, anyway.

  I just wrapped my third novel in less than a year. It’s been a crazy ride. I’ve learned so much about myself, publishing, marketing, and friendship.

  There are so many people that have made this entire thing possible. It’s humbling to think of all the people, most of which I’ve never met, that have read my books, encouraged me, pushed me, and taken time out of their day to message me. I know I will inadvertently forget someone’s name after I send this to formatting and I’ll kick myself for weeks over it. So if you don’t see your name and you should, I ask for your forgiveness now.

  First and foremost, I want to thank the Creator of the Universe. It might sound cheesy, but I’m eternally grateful to whoever it is that created me and blessed me with so much in life. My life isn’t perfect and my journey hasn’t been without bumps, but I’m smart enough to realize how very blessed and undeserving I am.

  None of this would be possible without the support of my family. Mr. Locke and the Littles shock me with their enthusiasm for my work. My mother, Mandy, and in-laws Rob and Peggy cheer me on endlessly. Simply put, they are the backbone of this endeavor.

  Actually writing the book is only a part of the battle. I’ve managed to put together the very best team of professionals to bring my words to the world. Kari at K23 Designs took my vague description of what I had in mind for the cover and nailed it! Ashley with Escapist Freelance Editing didn’t kill me and tightened my manuscript with a smile. Christine with Perfectly Publishable took my words and made them beautiful. Jen with KinkyGirls Book Obsessions read early and supplied me with more teasers and enthusiasm than I ever dreamed! Kylie with Give Me Books put the word out and gathered such an amazing group of bloggers to review and spread the word. Sacrifice was marked as much by these brilliant ladies as it was by me. Thank you all for going on this journey by my side.