Fight for You

by Charisse Spiers

  I look around. We definitely aren't in Manhattan anymore; at least not from the parts I've been to. My mother would cringe if she saw something like this. I start to get a little uncomfortable now that I look at what's around me. This place doesn't really look that safe.

  We walk into the alley and he stops at a door leading into the building that looks like an abandoned warehouse from the outside. He pulls a key from his pocket and inserts it into the door, unlocking it. Where are we? "Do you own this building?"

  He looks back at me, anger painted across his face. "You want to know more about me, Piper?"

  "Yes." It's not even a question I have to think about.

  "Let's see if you can handle the fire before I walk you through Hell." That phrase should scare me, should make me run and never look back, forgetting him altogether, but it doesn't. I find myself wanting to follow instead of turning away.

  He doesn't say another word. Instead, he opens the door and pulls me along behind him inside. It's dark. I can't see anything, but it doesn't smell or sound like it should from the physical appearance outside. I was expecting a dirty smell, like mold and stench, with leaky pipes. From the outside it looks like somewhere a bunch of junkies and homeless people would hang out, but the inside smells like...a gym?

  I inch closer to him. It's pitch black in here. I hate the dark; I'm terrified of it. The thought of things moving around unseen scares me. I never go anywhere without some form of light. I wrap my arms around his waist. His back is tense, expanding each time he breathes. Feeling his body against my chest eases my fear a little. I place my forehead against his shirt, between his shoulder blades. I close my eyes tight, trying to focus on the black that I'm making with my eyelids shut instead of the darkness around me. "Haddox, I don't like the dark."

  My voice is coming out in a slight stutter, my breathing becoming uneven. The hair on my arms and neck start to stand up. I feel so stupid, but I'm starting to get a little panicky. What if something or someone is hiding in here? I start to shake.

  He says nothing, but he places his hands on top of mine, holding onto them. He turns in my arms, my hands now resting on his lower back. "Fear is a state of mind. Learn to control it, not let it control you."

  His voice is becoming like a lullaby, soothing to my nerves. It's amplified when hearing is one of the only senses I can use. I wish I could be like him, totally unaffected by anything. I have no idea why he is even interested in me. I know I'm beautiful, but I'm not stupid. I know I'm broken. If I could fix it I would. I've tried. If the motto to life was, love hard or don't love at all, I would be set, but it's become my kryptonite.

  "How?"

  "Channel it. Use it for good. Nothing can hurt you unless you let it."

  "That's not true. People get hurt all the time."

  "You're not immortal, of course things can physically harm you, but nothing or no one can take from you what they can't touch. Your mind is only available for alterations to those you give access."

  "What about my heart?"

  "Mine died a long time ago, but ultimately your mind controls every organ in your body. Revoke access to your mind from external sources and you can allow it to mend from the constant abuse that it's been under."

  My heart rate picks up in pace. I tighten my hold around him. I should let go, but I can't. I have the strangest feeling. My nerves are calming and the loss of sight is not as scary as it was when I walked in. I want him to let me in. I never want to know anyone emotionally. Physically has been good enough for me since Cole stole my ability to enjoy feeling for others, but I want to know him.

  I separate our touching bodies, creating a distance. His hands rub up my arms and across my shoulders, stopping on my neck. I place my hand flat against his chest cavity, over his heart. I can feel it beating beneath the surface. "It feels alive to me," I say.

  "Barely, but only just started beating. I am still unsure what to make of it."

  "What changed?"

  I'm not sure why I asked that question, but there is something inside that is steering my mouth. It definitely isn't logic. My heart feels like it's about to break through my chest as if it's steel and not muscle.

  "Meeting you."

  As if I just got an emotional adrenaline rush, it crashed already. Anyone else could say that to me and I would call bullshit, but this is so very different. Something about the way he says it seems like nothing short of the absolute truth, or is it that I want it to be? I don't take Haddox as the kind of guy that would say things to swoon a woman for his benefit. He doesn't need to be. I don't even think he is aware that statement would make a girl's heart swell and flutter. It comes out as though he's just now realizing it himself. The realization of what is happening to me just occurred. It has only occurred to me once before and not this fast. It was more gradual, but will always be remembered because it was my first.

  It couldn't be, could it? Surely not. I just met him. It has to be a heavy dose of lust, but we've screwed so many times already that I've lost count, and my want for him is getting stronger and more frequent. This stuff doesn't happen in real life, only movies. We definitely aren't fairytale quality. If it was going to happen to someone it sure as hell isn't going to happen to me. I don't have that kind of luck.

  He laces our fingers together and walks forward, backing me up until I am pressed against a wall. He raises our hands together, holding them to the hard surface, entrapping me. He rubs his cheek against mine on the way to my ear; the skin-to-skin friction giving me chills. He starts to whisper. "Maybe it's a coincidence and I was tired of living in a world of gray, or maybe I needed my polar opposite that was just as broken and numb to help revive me, but either way I want more, Piper. I'm welcoming the beat, because for the first time I'm starting to feel alive."

  He straightens his head. I can't see him, but I can feel him. This kind of darkness I like. He envelops his lips around my top one and I inch my tongue and bottom lip around his, creating a zigzag formation with our lips. In this moment my body begins to heat and I become dizzy. I feel as if I'm leaving my body as we begin to kiss, touching nowhere but our hands and lips. Our tongues collide and from his taste the frenzy begins. With the realization that a want I've carried for years disappears, my earlier thought is crashing into me, confirming it.

  Shit.

  I'm starting to fall in love with Haddox Hayes. The result will either be detrimental or will set me free...

  I greedily devour her lips with mine, wanting to strip her bare right here against this wall, but if I do that each time I'm with her I'm going to prove Alyvia's point. I really don't like to be wrong. I try to pull away, but her taste drives me wild. The fullness of her lips has become an aphrodisiac, sending me into a hypnosis each time they lightly grind against mine, alternating between motions.

  I flatten my body against hers. She has my dick rock solid and I can't even look at her beautiful body. When has this ever happened? I can't recall a single time. Before her my sex life was mostly premeditated and planned. That's just the easiest way I found to do things. I'm so outside of my normal. Everything feels upside down: the spontaneity, the sexual chemistry, the raging need to bury myself inside her pussy with barely a thought, let alone a touch or look; it's making me crazy.

  I growl and let go of her hands, roughly slapping my hands against the wall in frustration. I regain my control and separate my lips from hers. "A fucking siren set before me, tempting me, and draining my control. I know I should turn away from you, but the desire to douse myself in sin with you is too great. I can't stop. It's too late. I'm already hooked. Be ready, because there's no turning back."

  I slide my hand across the wall toward the frame of the door and flip on the light, revealing a small part of myself: the first. I push off the wall and look at her. Her eyes have changed a little. I look into them as I place my hand on her cheek, brushing my thumb along her bone structure. It's not a look I recognize, although, it doesn't appear to be a bad one. She stares back at me i
n between glancing around. "What is this place?"

  "Somewhere that is important to me. You wanted to know a part of me. Well, this is the first. I may be attractive on the surface, but inside I'm ugly. It's a classic tale of Beauty and the beast, minus the magic."

  I grab her hand and turn, pulling her alongside me. I have one hard limit: abuse. It doesn't matter the form: emotional, verbal, or physical. They are all equally damaging to a person. It's one thing I will not tolerate and I will put an end to no matter what. I've proven it, although too late, because for the longest time I was a coward, but that's a cross I have to bear. That scared kid is long gone. Now, I fear nothing and no one.

  I bought this place as soon as I got settled in my career. For a while I stockpiled money, because for so long I had to survive without it. I'm not proud of the things I did for money for a period of time, but living on the streets is worse. The word survival has a very different definition to those that simply recite it versus the ones that actually have to put it into action.

  This place was my attempt to make up for sitting back while Breanna was raped repeatedly by her step dad. I knew it was happening, but I did nothing to stop it for years. I guess I figured by helping other women avoid it, I was somehow giving back to the ones that didn't have the option, the ones that were weak, and the ones that lost the battle to one of Satan's followers.

  I stop at the center of the large, blue mat and turn to look at Piper. She's just as beautiful in a more natural form as she is all fixed up to go out. She has her hair up in a ponytail, wearing yoga pants and a tee shirt, and has very little makeup. I actually kind of like this look better.

  She places her fingertips between her lips as she takes in the surroundings. "So you work at a martial arts studio?" Her skin is scrunching between her eyebrows like she is thinking. I rub my hand in hers, liking the feel of her soft skin against my rough.

  I think of my response and rub my free hand over my face. Explaining me in a nutshell is not as easy as I thought. "I own this place. I have some martial arts instructors, but it's not my primary focus. I take on a class or two here and there, but rarely. Usually, it's by request only. I don't have the time. When I come here it's to teach other classes..."

  "Like what?"

  "Female self-defense."

  She rakes her eyes down my body and then up hers. "Why?"

  This is the part I'm not good at. I can talk about stupid shit all day long; things that have no depth or meaning. I'm not the silent type, but when it comes to my inner demons or personal stuff I won't talk about it, but wasn't this the point? I may be in over my head. "Someone important to me was a victim of assault."

  She rubs her index finger up my forearm, over the name tattooed in black ink. "Her?"

  "Yes."

  "Did you love her?"

  "Yes and no."

  "Elaborate."

  "It's complicated."

  "Try."

  I've never once tried to explain Breanna and mine’s relationship to someone. Why am I even doing this? Maybe I should rethink this decision. Fuck! Do I even want this? Isn't this the exact reason I've always avoided this kind of intimacy with a girl: questions, digging for skeletons in my closet, unburying my past that I've worked hard to keep under lock and key?

  I look at her, weighing my options. If I let her in I'm not sure what will happen. She may run, but then again she may remain forever, in some form or another. Casual sex is great in theory, but the execution isn't usually as it was thought out to be. It can be successful when there are no expectations or is short term, which is the way I always went, but casual sex monogamously will never remain casual sex for long. At some point one will walk away permanently or the two of you become more.

  This thing we've started has only just begun. I could shut it down now and say it was just fun, that the time has come to an end, but even the thought immediately dismisses itself. I have no idea what I'm planning to take from this, but adding a notch in my belt with a beautiful woman isn't it. Getting to know her is becoming a need, keeping other men away from her is turning into an instinct, and walking away completely is becoming impossible. Everything I’ve known for nine years is rapidly changing…

  "Breanna and I lived on the same street. We both had to deal with some fucked up shit in adolescence, so we found a way to cope with it in each other. She became my best friend, so in a sense I guess I loved her in the only way I understood the act, because I would do anything to protect her, but I didn't love her in the way you're asking."

  She wraps her arms around my waist and pulls me to her. As if my tongue has taken control of itself, I keep going. "I don't understand love, Piper. I was surrounded with hatred. I was never taught that emotion or shown it, so there was nothing to transfer. I need to be honest if we're going to continue whatever this is. I've never been a liar. If you're expecting love we need to hit the halt button, because I'm incapable of giving it to you. I'd like to be selfish, but you deserve it if that's what you want, and I'll have no choice but to let you go."

  In the midst of a breath her chest stops, no longer rising and falling. Her pupils shrink. They take on a slightly glassy appearance as if she's about to start crying, but blinks once and it clears. Her lips separate and she runs her hands up my sides, underneath my shirt, crinkling it along the path to remove it. She swallows. "Love is overrated, Haddox. Like most things that were created to be good, they become abused, and then no one wants anything to do with them. What you're offering I'd rather have. Your honesty is what means the most. Trust that I'm telling the truth, yeah?"

  I raise my arms above my head when she gets to my underarms, allowing her to remove my shirt. I nod and grab the hem of her tee shirt, pulling it over her head in a swift motion, leaving her in yoga pants and a sports bra. I want to know that she can protect herself, and then I will reward myself with her body, in turn pleasuring her, but not a second before. "I'll reveal myself to you a little at a time. That's the best that I can offer, because it's more than I've ever given anyone else. This isn't something I do, Piper, not even to Reese and Alyvia, but when I ask you questions about yourself don't deny me."

  I circle around her like a predator does with his scared prey. "Are we on the same page?"

  She nods.

  I step up to her backside and snake my hand between her side and arm, laying my palm flat against her stomach. I pull her against me. "Could you protect yourself if I was attacking you?"

  I make most of my money with my fighting contract and sponsors, but my business brings in a hefty profit of its own and continues to build. I don't advertise publicly, because I don't need or want it. I didn't start this to turn a large profit or get rich. I did it for Breanna and all the others out there that have been or will become a victim of abuse or assault. Everyone should be able to defend themselves.

  New business all comes from my clients and my employees. Word of mouth is the best form of advertising. My class is successful, because it's real. Just because it's a lesson doesn't mean it needs to be unrealistic. I present my clients with real life scenarios, first allowing them to react to see what they would do, and then teach the way they should react with the proper knowledge, amplified by adrenaline and fear. What separates a winner from a loser is the way they channel it.

  "I don't know," she says. That's wrong answer number one. That answer is what leaves a woman lying in a dark alley for dead.

  I close my eyes and hood myself, slowly releasing the monster inside. It doesn't take long when I allow a memory to leak out:

  My eyes jolt open with the tapping against my bedroom window. The rain is making a pinging sound, blurring the glass, but the long hair and the small hand gives away who it is on the other side. I jump up and rush to the window, opening it. Her eyes are black from the smeared mascara. It could be from the rain, but I know she's been crying by her sniffles. "Where is he? That fucking bastard. I'm going to kill him, Bree."

  Her clothes are ripped. She crosses her arms over her chest
. "It doesn't matter. It won't change anything. No one will believe me and if we run away they'll just call the cops again and when they bring us back it'll be worse than if I stay. I just need to make it to eighteen," she stutters, starting to shake.

  I want to kill him. I want to tie him up and make him watch as she brutally rapes him the way he's raped her, then rip his heart from his chest and watch as he takes his last breath. That's what the sick fuck deserves. It's really unfortunate her mother is too stupid to see it, because he'd get it in prison once they find out what he's in for. Even hard criminals are intolerable to child and domestic abuse. "One day I'm going to stop letting you talk me out of it, Bree."

  She starts to cry. "Can I come in, Haddox? Is he here? I just need you to make me feel better. Make it go away. Please."

  I open my eyes, ready to go. He's free, but I tighten my hold on the leash, reigning him in, and showing him who's in control this time. I won't hurt her. My teeth feel like steel. My free hand wraps around her neck, squeezing enough to get her attention.

  "Haddox? What are you doing?"

  "I saw you inside, dancing and wanting everyone to watch you sway. You look good, baby. I can't wait to get a real look at that tight little ass. I bet you feel good. I want my piece now."

  I run my hand down her stomach, underneath the waistband of her pants. I stop on her pelvis. I'll admit I'm probably taking this one a little further than professional clients. I never grope or go under clothing, but she's different. She is personal, and that stems protection in the most ultimate form.

  "Haddox, you're scaring me. Stop."

  "Why do you want me to stop, baby? You don't mean that. You're just saying it. I know you want it. Your body language says so. I've been watching you. You're going to give it to me. Girls like you are all the same. You say one thing and mean another." My voice has deepened, seething with each sentence.