by Marci Fawn
"Who's planning what?" I ask, but I think I have a good guess.
Carson looks around, checking to see if we're alone. We are; all the rest of the fighters left and the cameras in this room have no sound.
"Mr. Gerrard," he says, pressing the words out. "And Sam's agents."
I humph. It fucking figures. But this doesn't surprise me either. I shrug and go back to my water. When I look back, Carson's still staring at me, confused this time.
"Let me guess," I say, taking a big gulp. "They've made a deal. Sam's going to kill me in the ring, make it look like a tragic accident."
"Yeah."
I have to say it makes me feel better. I'm not fucking psychotic and I don't have a death wish, but in a way it's a relief. My suspicions are confirmed and now I can continue figuring a way out of this.
"You're not surprised," Carson says.
"Not really," I admit. "Ricky's a fucking bitch. He isn't man enough to deal with his own problems, so he needs someone else to do that. And why not Sam? He's got a reputation. No doubt there are big sums at play."
"Huge," Carson admits. "They're all betting on Sam, of course, but Mr. Gerrard has put a lot of money on you not walking out of the cage on your own."
"His vote of confidence is fucking touching."
It also confirms Ricky doesn't expect me to win. He'll make back the money I lost him by putting money on the more gruesome outcome.
"You're not worried?" Carson asks. "You might die tomorrow."
Carson's all right. He said "might." That's the most positive anyone has been about my chances for the upcoming match. Raina can't even say Sam's name. Whoever let her Google Sam is an asshole, but I bet that was Ricky too.
"If I die, I die," I say.
We drink our water in silence after that, until Carson murmurs, in his brutish, awkward way:
"Sorry about your old man."
I want to punch him for reminding me when I managed to forget for two seconds. I also want to ask if there's fucking anyone in this building that doesn't know. Was there a press conference this morning? Ricky better not get in my way today or I'll reconsider my policy of not fucking him up before the time is right.
Only problem is, Carson is among the shit-ton of people who can't be blamed for this.
"He died doing what he loved. Kicking gangster ass."
Carson grunts in agreement.
I think that's enough heartfelt moments for one day. Carson and I pack up.
"Hey," I tell him when we're almost done. "You're a prick too."
He looks up, frowning at me.
"But thanks for the warning."
Carson snorts and minds his own business from then on out. I go to look for Raina. Carson didn't exactly warn me, but he did confirm my thoughts. One way or another, I don't plan on telling Raina any of that. I should tell her about Philip, before she hears it from fucking Victor, or worse, Ricky.
And if I really die tomorrow, one more good memory won't do me any harm.
Raina
The last few days have been a nightmare, but Ricky is doing his best to make sure the limo ride to the arena is worse. I'm forced to sit next to him, his hand around my shoulders. Victor and Lee sit opposite of us and Lee looks outright murderous. Dr. Morris is with us too, sitting with his side to us, keeping an eye on my condition.
Dr. Morris has been nice to me. I've been using him to send messages to Lee. With nothing else to do, I'm pretty sure I've read every word ever written about Sam. I pass the information I think could be useful on to Lee through the doctor. Fighting patterns, known injuries, moves that have worked—if temporarily—against him.
I don't know if it helps or if Lee already knows it all. All I know is that it's something to do other than to wait for the man I love to die. If even a single piece of it helps him in the cage, it's worth it.
Ricky seemed surprised that I wanted to go to the match. He reminded me a bit sharply that I never enjoyed violence before and doubted if it would do me any good. I was petrified at that moment. Lee was very clear about it. I needed to be at the match. I still don't know why, but I trust him. I wouldn't miss it, even if I doubt I'll see a second of it. I don't think I can watch.
I convinced Ricky that it is to say goodbye to Lee. There was a weird look in his eyes, but he eventually agreed.
"It might be good," he said. "To see him brought down."
I know my fate is hanging in the balance here, but ever since I found out about Sam, it seems oddly irrelevant. Lee's life is at stake.
Honestly, I don't know how he hasn't attacked Ricky yet. When he came to tell me about Philip, I was so furious I had to resist clawing Ricky's eyes out the next time I saw him. Lee remained stoic, but I saw the rage in his eyes.
I guess Ricky felt the fuck-up was his, so that one day he allowed Lee to stay with me longer than usual. No touching of course, and Victor was there to make sure we didn't get too friendly, but I at least got to spend time with him. Every second of it hurt when I remembered Sam. I've been having nightmares for weeks.
And still, this is worse.
Ricky is doing it on purpose. His arm is around me, kissing my neck, and pressing his lips to mine. I can't bring myself to respond, but I don't think he cares. He owns me. Why should he bother with how I feel? To put the cherry on top, he keeps sliding his hand over my stomach, the least subtle promise ever.
I keep thinking of our baby, wondering what will happen depending on how it goes today. If Lee wins, if everything goes the way we want, there might be a life for us. And if one single thing goes wrong, well. I don't think my child will ever see their first birthday.
All the better, since I don't think I have it in me to explain why there is no daddy, of how I saw Lee smashed to pieces in the ring.
I see Lee's hands shake so hard he has to ball them into fists. Every time Ricky touches me, I see his desire to charge forward and rip me from his grasp. I send him an apologetic look, but I know it doesn't help. Seeing me with Ricky is pushing his buttons. If he loses his cool in the cage, with Sam... I can't bear to think of that. I need him to swallow his pride today, but it's Lee. That is not going to happen.
I need a second to reassure him it's going to be all right. One moment to remind him he has to focus on Sam right now.
This evening is a full-grown house of terrors. Everything teeters at the edge of falling apart at the smallest push.
And I don't know if Aunt Susan's still alive. I haven't spoken to her after Philip. I asked Ricky, but he outright refused me. I don't know why. Maybe he's being cruel, maybe there isn't someone to talk to anymore.
Ricky pulls me closer to him again and I see Lee's fingers twitch. Victor is watching him like a hawk. Waiting for him to slip up, give him the slightest excuse...
Absolutely no part of me wants to see the match begin, but I couldn't be happier when the limo pulls to a stop in front of the arena. At least I don't have to watch Lee gritting his teeth anymore and I can slip away from Ricky's nauseating grip. His touch is repulsive to me, but I pray he doesn't notice this right now. He can't send me away when we're this close.
I can't help wondering what Lee has in mind.
* * *
The driver opens the limo door. Lee gets out first, with one last look at me, and I hear the crowds roaring wildly outside. They love him. Maybe because they expect to see him being beaten within an inch of his life. Maybe even further.
We wait until he's moved on and follow him. I walk with Ricky, and Dr. Morris excuses himself for a second. I watch him go, knowing he carries a last-moment message to Lee, in case I don't get the chance to deliver it myself. Then Ricky leads me to the grand hall that hosts this historic match. Victor follows us like a dog.
In secret, I've tried to heal as much as I'm able. For Ricky, I still limp a bit, but I can actually walk at a normal pace now. Even that feels like an achievement. And here I am, holding the arm of the guy who had me shot.
Our seats are right by the cage. I watch t
he octagon with dread, listening to the buzz around us. They're all talking about the fight, but no one is saying they want it to be a nice one. This is a martial arts match. The audience paid good money to see the fighters get real and show what they're made of.
I would say letting Sam Unbroken into a cage is a cheap trick on its own.
I count the minutes in my head after we sit down. Dr. Morris isn't back yet, which is another concern for me, but mostly I need to see Lee. After I figure I've sat down for the appropriate amount of time, I excuse myself to the bathroom. Victor comes with me, of course, while I see Ricky moving to greet a business associate or whoever else he's shaking hands with.
The guy looks very serious. Even Ricky seems humbled a bit. I wish I could enjoy the scene more, but I need to lose Victor.
Outrunning him is out of the question, so that leaves hide-and-seek. We're in a huge arena with thousands of spectators, all crowding and moving around. I slip a black scarf out of my purse. I'm wearing a dress tonight, a form-fitting red one without straps.
I wait for the moment when Victor's attention is caught by a guy he knows and I disappear between people. I pull the scarf over my shoulders as I hear his angry shout. I press on, going between people, feeling the pain in my side from the wound. It's fine these days, as fine as a wound can be. But Dr. Morris warned I can't overexert myself.
Covering my shoulders with the scarf, I move away, not looking back. It's not the best camouflage, but it's all I have. I'm hoping Victor is looking for a girl in a red dress and that he doesn't remember my hairdo. I put it up exactly for this. When it's loose it's too recognizable.
Getting to see Lee isn't as difficult as I'd feared. I had a whole array of excuses in mind, but the guys on his team are Ricky's. They take one look at me and let me pass without question.
I slip into the dressing room.
"Lee!"
His arms close around me, making me wince in pain, but I swallow it. Nothing could make me pull away now, wrapped in his hot embrace. Lee's holding me against him, my head resting against his shoulder. His breathing is still erratic and he's panting slightly. He's been warming up. In turn, being near him relaxes me. I cuddle myself closer to him, breathe in his scent, more masculine than anyone else I know.
"You shouldn't be here," he says, but I see the glint of amusement in his eyes. "Victor is going to be pissed."
"I don't care," I tell him. "This is the last night, right? One way or another, it all ends today?"
Lee nods, kissing me again. I fight the terrible urge to ask him if he's afraid. I think that even if he was, he'd never admit to it.
I kiss my savior so hard it hurts, but I can't stop myself. I need to tell him all the things I have ever felt about him, because I might never get the chance again.
"I had such a crush on you in high school," I whisper into the kiss.
Lee chuckles, caressing my back and my hips appreciatively.
"I know," he says.
Only the wink is missing from the stupid jock I once fell for. God, girls are hopeless, but look at the boy now. Standing before me, tall and tough to the bone, ready to take on a monster for me. I've been trying to justify everything I've done with the idea that it's a fling, but I know it is not. I don't think I can let Lee go. It might be ridiculous and he's certainly not the type of guy I imagined myself with, but what can you do about your own heart?
I tell him some of it, apparently, because he's smirking again.
"I won't let you go," he tells me firmly and I moan when he kisses me. "You're mine, Raina. You've always been mine, ever since high school. We just didn't know it then."
"I don't belong to anyone," I tease, but Lee gives me a dark, lusty look that is quickly convincing me otherwise.
"You do to me," he says, stating it like a fact.
I should protest. I should be appalled at the idea of being someone's property again, but from Lee's mouth, it turns me on and I want it badly to be true. I bite my lip and Lee pushes me gently against the wall of his dressing room.
Pressed against him, it feels like I'm caught between two rock walls. Lee's chest is bare; he's already in his fighting clothes, nothing more than pants and short fingerless gloves. I want to stay here forever, let Lee slowly hump against me, kissing my neck and sliding his hands all over me.
"Yes," I admit when he bites my ear possessively, marking me. "I'm yours."
"Don't forget it," Lee warns me. "I lost you for years, but now that I've found you again, there ain't a man who will take you from me. When this fight is done, you are my girl and Ricky is history. I won't let him hurt us ever again. Not you and not our baby."
"Lee, but Sam..."
The words are finally leaving my mouth. I've spoken his name, something I've been actively avoiding.
"Sam Unbroken is nothing," Lee says.
"Don't lie to me," I say, pushing him away, but he doesn't let me. "Don't lie, Lee, not now."
"I'm not," he assures me. "Sam's a tough opponent, but I'll win, I promise."
"You can't guarantee that."
"I can. The prize is good enough."
"Ricky doesn't care about the money. You have to know that—"
"I'm not talking about the money," Lee growls.
He keeps catching me off-guard with brutal honesty and it is always so much better than any rehearsed words. I want to say something like that, make him be the one standing there speechless, but nothing else comes to mind but:
"I love you."
Oh, that works too. Lee's eyes flash before he grabs me and kisses the air out of my lungs. I cling to him, returning the kiss, running my hands down his back as he pulls my hair. We don't part until I'm as out of breath as he is.
"I know," he says and this time he does wink.
I want to hate him for it, but I find myself grinning. It's so Lee, the boy I remember from high school, who walked around with an air of superiority. Only it was as deserved then as it is now, so I could never truly be mad at him.
"I love you too," he adds finally when I attempt to push him away again.
He lifts my chin up to look him straight in the eye again.
"I don't fight Sam for any girl."
"I know."
We're interrupted by a guy who comes to tell Lee he's expected soon. That means I also have to go. These might be my last words to Lee.
"Don't let Ricky distract you," I tell him, the words pouring out of my mouth. "He'll try, you know that. Don't give him the satisfaction. Please. Focus on Sam, and... don't get hurt."
"I won't," he says. "You stop worrying. I won't let a dick like Ricky walk out of here with you and my child. He had his fun, now I'll have mine. Today will be the last day he ever lays his hands on you."
I kiss him one more time, putting every ounce of desperation into it. I pull myself up, holding onto Lee's wide shoulders, rising to my tiptoes to fully taste him, and let him plunge his tongue into my mouth. I can't bring myself to let go, but Lee needs to prepare. Gently but firmly he pushes me toward the door.
"I'll see you after the fight."
For some reason, his words make me shiver in fear.
"Don't die, Lee," I beg him. "Just don't die out there."
* * *
I get back to my seat to find Ricky angrier than I've ever seen him. In fact, I don't think I've ever really seen Ricky mad. He's been upset, annoyed, but truly, honestly furious? It's not like him to show that much emotion.
"Where were you?" he demands, pulling me to my seat more roughly than I'd like.
His hand is hurting my arm, but I don't give him the satisfaction.
"In the bathroom," I say, appearing to be confused. "I lost Victor in the crowds and there was a line."
He doesn't believe me, I can see that. I'm beyond caring, though. I don't like gambling, but right at this moment I'm betting my life and my fate on the outcome of this match. I sit and try to breathe as the fighters are led to the cage.
Sam Unbroken is the first man to ta
ke my eyes off Lee, but not in a good way. My mouth drops. He's a towering giant, twice as tall as he is wide, with long arms and merciless eyes.
Dr. Morris joins us at last. I send him a desperate look, my last hope. He nods to me. At least he delivered my last tip. I breathe in deeply, trying to assure myself everything will be fine. I've done all I could, even if it isn't much. Everything is up to Lee now.
Lee
I think I hear Raina scream.
I must imagine it, because it's impossible to hear anything right now. The arena is going insane with bloodthirsty roaring. I can barely hear the referee telling us about rules we know already and have very little intention of following.
Raina was right about one thing. In the cage, there is no other priority other than Sam. He looks peaceful enough now, but that's the giant build. For some reason, all big guys like that look like cuddly bears. I know better. This cuddly guy is perfectly able to rip me in two if I give him the chance.
I don't intend to.
Despite myself, my eyes flick over to Raina. She's pale like a ghost, her mouth hanging open, clutching her scarf. An appropriate reaction to seeing Sam for the first time.
I take a good look at my opponent while I still can. The judge is introducing us, as if we need introduction, and I see a glint of murder in Sam's eyes. There is a nasty smirk that discards the entire cuddly bear image to the wind in an instant. I was interested in whether he'd mind trying to kill me. Apparently he doesn't.
Sam really is a freak show. We wouldn't be matched in any official tournament. I'm not anywhere near his weight class. He's a super heavyweight and I'm a light heavyweight the last I checked. But this isn't anything official. This is exactly what I said. A freak show.
It's a common enough thing with fighting sports. People want their circus and Sam is a guaranteed seat-filler. And I'm the punk of the day, but I intend to make all of them eat their words.
Compared to this, Carson was a walk in the park, but the twist remains the same.
I'm supposed to go down. Everyone here is expecting me to, but I'm going to disappoint them. And I will be the man who breaks Sam.