Fighting Dirty

by Sidney Halston

  “I think you’re secretly hoping for that date. A closer look at that head tattoo.” He spun his finger in circles in front of his ear. “Crazy.”

  She snorted, then kissed him. “I love you. Be safe.”

  “Love you too. Sit with Frances, okay?”

  After she left, Enzo found himself alone in the locker room with Travis. “Next week I’m taking your sister to Vegas and we’re getting married,” Enzo told him.

  “Good,” Travis said.

  “Come with us. She’ll like it.”

  “You going to be around when those two babies are driving you crazy? When she’s in a bad mood? When money’s tight? When the honeymoon period’s over?”

  “Stop,” Enzo said. “I’m going to be with your sister until I take my last breath. She’s not your mother. I’m certainly not your mother. I don’t bail on responsibilities. You’re my friend, Travis. Since we met we’ve been tight and I appreciate the friendship we have. But I’m not asking your permission to marry your sister. Hell, I’m not even asking for hers. I am going to marry her. I am going to raise those babies and they will be loved and they will grow up in a house filled with love. You can play the overprotective brother all you want, but the best thing you can do is get onboard with it. Instead of adding more stress to your sister’s life, come with us and support her.”

  “I like that. She needs someone to take charge. Knock her down a little so that she doesn’t always have to be the driver, you know?” He extended his arm to Enzo. “You have my blessing even if you’re not asking for it. I’ll be there. When are you going?”

  Enzo guffawed. “Don’t say anything for the moment. I haven’t told her we’re getting married yet.”

  Travis laughed loudly as Enzo got ready to go out and fight Hernandez. “It’s probably going to be easier to take a punch from crazy-ass Hernandez than to get my sister to agree to marry you, Pretty Boy.”

  —

  They were in a high school auditorium that was filled to the brim with people. Hernandez was already in the cage wearing faded black shorts when Enzo walked in. This wasn’t what he’d imagined when he craved being an MMA fighter. He’d always pictured spotlights, music, a professional ref, a big marquee with his name, and his opponent a well-known light-heavyweight contender in a bout that would give the crowd their money’s worth for three rounds of five minutes each. This was the complete opposite of everything. Some people were walking to their seats with Styrofoam cups full of popcorn; others held soda they’d just gotten from the vending machine. The ref, a young guy he’d never seen, quickly yelled the rules, and an old man literally dangled a bell in front of a microphone to announce the beginning of the fight. The only thing that he could think of were the words Jamie Lynn had said to him months ago: Be the best amateur fighter you can be.

  Who cared that this wasn’t the way he’d pictured it? It wasn’t about vanity. The thought of having kids and a wife put everything into perspective in a quick jolt. The man in front of him was overweight, even though he weighed the same as Enzo. Whereas Enzo’s weight consisted of lean muscle, Hernandez was wide and pudgy. But he didn’t want to underestimate the man’s strength, because Hernandez was, in fact, the current title holder. So Enzo tried to remember all the techniques that he’d been taught at the Academy and during his time in Brazil.

  “Saw your lady sitting over there. Girl looks delicious,” Hernandez said as soon as they were close. All the training Enzo had learned went right out his head as the anger flooded in, and he threw a sloppy punch and missed. Hernandez circled around, egging Enzo on. Enzo swung again, but this time he let his guard down, and Hernandez landed an uppercut on Enzo’s right side. He heard Tony from his corner trying to guide him, but his side hurt and he was breathless. Hernandez swung again and landed another punch to his other side. When the first bell rang, Enzo was sure he’d lost the fight.

  “What the fuck are you doing, man?” Tony yelled. “You know better than that. You’re throwing shit punches. That man is all brute force. You have to get him tired and take him out on the floor.” Tony handed Enzo some water and a towel.

  “Enzo!”

  He looked over his shoulder to see Jamie Lynn yelling to him.

  “Stop getting hit! You have a baby mama now! You have to be safe!”

  He was in pain, but he couldn’t help but grin. He knew she was trying to help him get his head back on straight, and Jamie Lynn had the best sense of humor of anyone he knew, but he could see even through her little jokes that she was worried.

  “Don’t worry, baby. I got this,” he said as the second bell rang.

  “Remember, tire him out,” Tony reminded him.

  Fighting through the pain on his side, Enzo jumped up and down and threw some punches to test the distance. He circled around Hernandez, forcing the big man to move. The man threw a sluggish jab, which Enzo easily avoided. Hernandez did it again a minute later, this time grazing Enzo’s cheek but not enough to cause major damage. By the time the second round was coming to an end, Hernandez was breathing shallowly and looking tired. Enzo took that opportunity to lunge at the ogre and get him on the ground, where they wrestled back and forth. Tony yelled instructions and Enzo concentrated. Enzo had Hernandez’s arm hyperextended. He needed the man to tap out before that bell; otherwise it would be another five minutes of fighting, and Enzo was now just as tired as Hernandez. Enzo pushed the arm down and the elbow up further until Hernandez screamed and the ref called the fight.

  Chapter 23

  JL finally let out a breath when the ref made the sign with his arms indicating that Hernandez had tapped out. She jumped up and down, clapping. “He did it! He won!” JL hollered to Frances.

  “He did!” Frances yelled back, excitedly. “And stop jumping, or those babies are going to fall out!” Frances held JL’s shoulders to restrain her.

  “Do any of you people know anything about babies?” JL scoffed, then reached into her pocket to take out her phone, which had been vibrating for the last twenty minutes.

  “I did it, sweetheart!” Enzo yelled through the cage.

  “I know! I’m so proud of you,” she yelled back, and then looked down at her phone to see ten missed calls from her friends. She tapped on the first text and her heart plummeted.

  “What’s wrong?” Francesca said when JL plopped back down on her seat. Enzo must’ve noticed something was wrong, because he was by her side before JL had a chance to say a word and before the winner was officially announced.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked.

  JL turned the phone around so that he could see the photo that Jonah had sent her. “Motherfucker!” Enzo roared when he saw the pictures of the bulldozers knocking down the Walls. He rarely cursed but this was a motherfucker kind of moment. He took her arm, yelled something over his shoulder to Frances about calling her later, and led JL to the car.

  “Calm down!” JL said. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course it fucking matters! I will not be responsible for taking that away from you. That painting was beautiful, and I won’t allow it to be destroyed. If he destroyed that, I swear to God, I will never—never!—speak to him again.”

  “He’s your father, Enzo. Don’t say that.”

  “He’s a heartless asshole,” Enzo said as he drove in and out of traffic.

  “Drop me off at home. I can’t see it. I don’t want to see it.”

  Enzo slowed down and looked at her.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. You won tonight. I’m so proud of you. I’m having twin babies with a wonderful man. Things are great. It’s been tough with Mom gone; I don’t want to witness another ugly thing in my life.”

  “I’m sorry about all of this.”

  “It’s over. We’re moving on. Let’s move on together, okay?”

  He pulled over at her apartment, opened the door for her, and led her inside.

  “Be careful, Enzo. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

&n
bsp; “I won’t.” He kissed her, and before she closed the door, he added, “Oh, and we’re getting married next week in Vegas. You might want to pack.” Then he ran to his car, leaving her speechless.

  —

  JL woke up the next morning to an empty bed. She dialed his number, “Hey, where are you?”

  “I’m working some things out. I didn’t want to wake you up by calling.”

  “You never came home?”

  “No. I have to go, but be ready to go somewhere with me around two, okay?”

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked, but he had already hung up.

  It was almost three in the afternoon when Enzo arrived back home. He looked bone tired. He still wore the same clothes from the fight, he had stubble on his face, and there were dark circles under his eyes. “You okay?” She brushed her hands over his face. “You need sleep.”

  “I’ll sleep later. I have something to show you, sweetheart.”

  “Okay,” she said warily, and let him lead her to his car.

  They drove for some time before he pulled up in front of an older house on the outskirts of town in an expensive community. Mango trees and massive palms obstructed the view of the house. He went around, opened her door, and helped her out and along the long uneven path until she finally came face-to-face with a beautiful home. It wasn’t the massive home he’d had when they first started their fling. This one was definitely older, with keystone finishes and blue Bermuda shutters in front of the windows. He opened a lockbox and pulled out a key, which he used to open the front door. “Where are we?” she asked.

  Instead of answering, he walked across the threshold, turning on a light as he did so. She looked around the empty house. “Enzo? Where are we?”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Well, from what I can see, it’s very nice.”

  “I love all the hardwood,” he said, and then pointed to a wall of French doors that led outside, but all she could see was more trees. “And I love all the natural light and all the trees. It’s very quaint. Like a big cottage.”

  “Yes…,” she said, though she wasn’t sure what was going on.

  “Come.” He led her down a hall, turning on lights along the way. “Here’s one room.”

  “Is this your house?” she asked.

  He ignored the question. “There are four rooms. This is one of them. It’s smaller,” he said as he opened the sliding door to the smallish closet and then walked to another door. “But it does have a bathroom.” She looked over his shoulder, unable to say much.

  He pulled her to the other rooms and showed her around until he led her to the final room. “This is the master bedroom.” It was painted off-white with dark hardwood floors and dark crown molding like the rest of the house. She spun around and, just like the main part of the house, this had a big wall of windows. “More windows, nice, right?”

  She just nodded and let him pull her to the bathroom. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  It was. It was the most phenomenal bathroom she’d ever seen. It had a claw-foot tub right smack in the middle of the room, a huge shower for two, and a big skylight above. It was gorgeous. “It’s like a little sanctuary. Wow.”

  “I know. I fell in love with it too. But I haven’t shown you the best part. You ready?”

  “Don’t really know what to say, Enzo. Whose house it this? Aren’t you supposed to be broke or something? Is this your house? When did you buy a house?”

  He still didn’t answer. “This is going to be tricky when your belly gets really big. I don’t think you’ll fit.”

  She hadn’t even noticed the spiral staircase in the corner of the room. “Where does it go? Are you about to show me a secret sex dungeon or something? Have I completely turned you into my sex slave?”

  He was right behind her as she climbed up. “Well, that’s one use for the room,” he said with a laugh.

  Once she reached the top, her heart stopped. It was a room, the same size as the master bedroom, with a glass roof and glass walls, like an atrium surrounded by all the foliage from outside, full of canvases and easels laid out everywhere. “Enzo?” she whispered.

  “This one’s your room. I mean, I can turn it into a sex room if you prefer. But I think you’d prefer a little creative haven. You can do whatever you want in here. I know you can’t draw on the walls since they’re mostly glass, but it’s all natural light, and I just thought that—”

  She threw herself on him. “It’s…I just…” She took a deep breath. “I love it.”

  He cupped her face in his hands. “And I love you.”

  Her heart stopped.

  Completely.

  “I thought I could save your Walls. I didn’t. I failed you. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. But this room can bring you peace, I think—I hope. I bought this place a few weeks ago. I wanted to show you, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you with things. But when everything happened last night, I knew I had to do something to make you happy. To show you that it would still be okay. I think I fell in love with you during our first date. You made me just so happy and free. I’d never felt that before, and I know I fucked it up. But I bought this house for us. I just thought that it was perfect for you.”

  “Enzo, you didn’t fail me. You have given me more in a few months than anyone has given me my whole life. I didn’t need a house to know that you love me.”

  “Well, I promised to make you happy, and if I’m going to whisk you off to Vegas I need to plead my case. There are two more things I need you to see.”

  He took her hand and led her downstairs to the kitchen. She looked up and saw one of those wrought-iron pot racks, from which hung a gleaming set of pots and pans, and her breath caught. “Oh my God!”

  “I just had it installed this morning.”

  “I never thought I’d have a family. Now I’m getting a family and a wrought-iron pot rack,” she squealed. “I love this house. I love the art room.”

  “Your art room,” he corrected her.

  “My art room. I love my art room. But this room, this one right here, is my favorite. I want to be the mother who cooks while her kids sit on the island eating cookies and telling her about their day at school.”

  “You can’t cook, sweetheart.”

  “I am so going to learn!” She skipped around the kitchen, opening and closing drawers happily. Then she stopped and her expression turned serious. “You make me believe I can have all the things I never thought I could have,” she told him, her chin trembling.

  “You were literally skipping merrily a second ago.” He wiped a tear away.

  “I know!” She sniffled. “Stupid twin hormones.”

  He pulled her toward his chest and held her tight. “Anything you want, I want to be the one who gives it to you. The family, the husband, the life full of color and art—whatever you want, it’s yours.”

  “I want that too.”

  “So, you’ll marry me voluntarily?”

  With a weak laugh, she said, “Yeah, I’ll marry you voluntarily.”

  “Thank God, because I wasn’t sure how I was going to haul you onto that plane kicking and screaming.”

  She pulled away and her eyebrows furrowed. “I thought you were broke. Unemployed.”

  He laughed. “I am.”

  “Sugar, people who are unemployed don’t buy houses like this.”

  “I can afford it. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Okay, I’m starting to think your definition of broke and unemployed and my definition of broke and unemployed are different.”

  He snorted out a laugh. “I don’t have a five-hundred-million-dollar portfolio anymore, and I don’t have the steady income that came with having a job with my father.”

  “But…?”

  “But I had savings and I had my own connections. I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. Maybe we can’t go jet-setting on a private plane around the world for a month this year.”

  She laughed. “Not this year? But wh
at about next year?”

  “If things go the way I plan them to go, then, yeah, next year I’d say we can go pretty much wherever we want.”

  “That’s great, Enzo. I’m happy for you.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Can you still do MMA?”

  “I can. But I decided that I’m done with that. I’ll still train and go to the Academy, but I don’t need to compete. It’s not what I want anymore. I don’t need to be a top professional. That’s not my life. I love it, but I love other things just as much, and I don’t want to take time away from being with you so that I can do that. Having it as a hobby is more than enough.”

  “We can do both. While I paint you can train. Neither of us has to make it our whole life. Just hobbies.”

  “Speaking of which, there’s one more thing I want to show you. Hold on to your panties, lady, you’re going to love this one.”

  She giggled at his horrible attempt at a southern accent.

  “If you’d said no to the marriage proposal—”

  “Proposal? You didn’t propose shit, buddy. You basically said, ‘You’re marrying me.’ ”

  “True. But if you’d refused, this would’ve changed your mind.”

  He escorted her outside, shut the door behind her, and then turned her around. The entire backside of the house was primed white, and there were buckets of paint sitting on the ground. “I want you to make this your wall. All of it. The entire back wall of the house. Will you do that for me? For us?”

  “Enzo, you didn’t have to.”

  “I also hired a professional photographer who went out there and took portraits of both your walls and as many of the other ones as she could that hadn’t been knocked down. She’s transferring them to large canvases, and I hope you’ll use them to decorate our home.”

  “Is that what you were doing all night?”

  “I couldn’t stop my father, so it was the least I could do. With the photographs, they’ll always be part of the house.” He pointed at the thick slab of cement. “And, by the way, thank God I had some savings. You wouldn’t believe the cost involved in finding a professional photographer and hauling her ass out to the Design District in the middle of the night while bulldozers tried to tear everything down!”