Fighting the Fall

by J. B. Salsbury

  Eve holds her hand out to D’lilah. “Come look at her from over here. She looks so much like you.”

  ’Li looks at Eve’s hand and slowly takes hold of it. I step away from the women as they crouch down in front of Rosie, then move to my son who’s sporting a very proud grin while watching his mom with his sister.

  “You did good, son.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  And just like the night of The Fourth of July, Eve becomes the easy that our family needed—the light that we’ve been missing for years—the glue that somehow holds us together.

  I was living behind a translucent wall of apathy, not allowing anything or anyone that might drop me to my knees get close enough. Love has brought me the worst kind of pain imaginable, and I was so afraid of feeling that again, of losing something so beautiful I’d never be able to recover. But the risk is half the beauty of living. I’m risking my sanity by loving Eve, but the alternative is far more painful than the fear of losing her.

  She shattered me, broke down the old me, and freed the possibility of a new outcome. Rewriting my future to create one I never even knew I wanted.

  And as I watch my ex-wife fawn over our disabled daughter, as Eve and Ryder look on with smiles so big they could light the dark, I let go.

  For the second time in my life . . .

  I fall.

  This time, by choice.

  Forty-Two

  One month later . . .

  Cameron

  “You ready, old man?” Blake calls from his spot propped up behind me, elbows on the top of the octagon.

  “You got this, Cam.” Jonah’s next to Blake, same position, and Caleb, Rex, Mason, and Wade are there too.

  Owen’s down, standing stoic with his arms crossed at his chest, game face on.

  I nod to the fighters and bounce on my toes as Rusty Faulkner enters the cage.

  The stadium is packed with thousands of screaming UFL fans. They chant my name and electrify the air with the intensity of their thirst for battle. An over-a-decade rivalry will be settled in five-minute rounds, or less if I have my way.

  This is it. What I’ve lived for since the day I landed my first punch. Everything I’ve been scrambling to get back after I lost my chance at the title. Here, standing in the octagon with the heat of the lights on my skin and the fire of a challenge in my gut.

  But this time is different. This time, my life is no longer inside the cage, but sits outside, hands locked together in support. Ryder and Eve, and the thought of Rosie, who’s been showing subtle signs of improvement every day. Even D’lilah decided to show her support and is sitting in my corner, holding hands with a pretty decent dude she’s dating.

  “You’re going down, Prez.” Faulkner’s attempt at shit-talk doesn’t faze me.

  I knew after seeing him at weigh-in that he doesn’t stand a chance. He’s sloppy, undertrained, and overconfident. But this isn’t about me beating him; it’s always been about proving myself to me. In a lifetime of unintentional failures, I’m ready for intentional success. I need to prove to myself that my career wasn’t a total waste.

  The ref talks, brings us together for a rundown of the rules, but I’m waiting on the word. That one word that signals it’s time to throw down.

  The ref’s voice cuts off, and the speakers shriek as feedback, loud and piercing, slices through the air. What the fuck? The crowd screeches, and I fight the urge to cover my ears.

  Everyone looks around in question; shock plays across the faces of the ref, the judges, and the commentators. The arena comes alive in a flurry of confusion as the jumbo screens go from shots of the octagon to static.

  I glare across the cage to a very smug-looking Rusty Faulkner. Something tells me whatever this is the dickbag has something to do with it.

  The sound of my own voice spills from the speakers and calls my attention to the screen.

  “If you don’t like it, get the fuck out!”

  A video plays of me talking to my fighters the day of Rex’s and Blake’s fights. Who the hell is responsible for this?

  “You spoiled little jackoffs!”

  That’s me again from the same meeting. My gaze swings to Rusty, who is now surrounded by his crew, and fuck if Reece isn’t standing right there with him. Fucking snake. Reece was working for him this whole time? That’s what Killer walked in on and why he’s been catching hell ever since.

  More video plays on the big screen for a crowd of over ten thousand fans. I don’t need to look to know my own fighters have formed a barrier of support at my back. I can feel the heat of their anger.

  The voices of my fighters questioning my ability to run the UFL filter in through the area, and I’m sure there’s video to go with them, but I wouldn’t know as my eyes are fixed on the traitorous bastards standing across from me.

  “Man with brain damage isn’t fit to run this organization.”

  “Once he fucks it all up, we’re all out of a job.”

  “The dude can’t remember to wipe his own ass let alone run the UFL.”

  “Did you hear what happened to his daughter?”

  “Enough!” In two long strides, I’m nose to nose with the slimy fuck. “So this is what you were after?” I shove him hard, but his crew holds him up. “You want to publicly humiliate me?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, Kyle.” Faulkner’s lips curl back over his teeth. “This is about giving the fans a good show, something the UFL has neglected to do for years.”

  “Fans aren’t stupid. They’ll see right through this.” I jerk a thumb toward the screens. “And you’re fucking high if you think this bullshit will ever sell.”

  “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. Between Reece, Lopez, and me, we’ve got enough footage to splice together a pretty interesting show. Internet fans around the world will pay big bucks to be let in on the UFL’s secrets.”

  “Got some good locker-room conversations recorded.” Reece high-fives another fighter on Faulkner’s crew. “Ever wonder what people are saying about you behind your back?”

  “You dirty little shit.” Mason rushes Reece but is held back by Caleb and Rex.

  I step into Rusty’s face, and the weight of angry fighters surrounds me. “No one fucks with my organization or its fighters. You hear me, you weaselly prick?”

  My pulse pounds in my ears, and adrenaline powers my muscles. I didn’t get the fight I trained for, but it’s not too late. I shove Rusty again, sending him back. His crew surges forward, and my fighters press in from behind.

  “No! Wait!” A feminine but powerful voice cuts through the group, and Eve squeezes in between us.

  “Slade,” I growl. “Get her out of here.”

  Jonah grabs her arm, but she knocks him off with a few girlie slaps to his hand. “Don’t you dare, Jonah Slade.” She presses against my chest, demanding my eyes. “There are cameras on you right now.” She jerks her head to Rusty. “His cameras. This is exactly what he wants. Don’t give it to him.”

  “Yeah, Cameron.” Rusty nods to Eve. “Listen to the little girl. Walk away in front of a stadium packed with UFL fans. Show them what a pussy you are.”

  “Slade. Now.”

  “Fuck.” Jonah moves to grab her again.

  “Yeah, Jonah. Get the little bitch—”

  “Whoa!” Eve holds her hands up, and I’m seconds away from throwing her to Jonah so I can fuck this guy up. She scratches her chin. “On second thought”—she pushes up to her tiptoes and presses a long closed-mouthed kiss against my lips—“I think it’s about time you get your fight.” She looks between Rusty and me then brings her eyes back to mine. “Kick his ass.”

  Finally, I get my fight with Rusty Faulkner. No judges. No commentators. In less than three minutes, it’s over by knockout.

  Victory.

  Without a single hit to my head.

  Epilogue

  Christmas Eve . . .

  Eve

  “You should see her, Eve. I found the tiniest Christmas dr
ess with little tights and shoes. I’ll send you a picture.” Even through the phone, Raven’s excitement is infectious.

  “Yes, do that. I need some updated pictures of her for my brag album.” Phone wedged between my ear and shoulder, I tape the corner of the last box I needed to wrap.

  Cameron’s coffee table is covered with all the gifts that we’re bringing to Rosie’s care facility tonight. There are even a few on the floor.

  “Didn’t you just take some pictures yesterday?”

  “Yeah, but she grows so fast, and I need to see her in her very first Christmas dress.” I pull a shimmering golden ribbon around the gift and tie it in a neat bow.

  “You sure you guys won’t come tonight? Jonah said he’s never been invited to Rex’s house, like ever. It’s a big deal that he’s throwing a party.”

  “Rex’s in love. I’m not surprised he’s doing things he thought he’d never do.”

  “Listen to you, little Miss Live-in Girlfriend.” Her soft giggle is followed by a content sigh. “You sure you can’t just swing by?”

  “I want to spend as much time with Rosie as we can before the nurses chase us off, ya know?” Plus, I want to show Cameron his Christmas present, and I don’t know how long that will take. “You should see what I did in Rosie’s room: singing Santas, dancing snowmen, and a ton of colored lights hang from every surface I could reach. I swear it looks like the entire population of Whoville exploded in there.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “It is, Rave. It so is.” I never knew how much I could love a child that wasn’t mine, but between Sadie, Rosie, and even Ryder, they’ve all claimed a part of my heart in a way I’ve never experienced before.

  “You’ll be here tomorrow, right?”

  “With bells on. Tell everyone I said Merry Christmas Eve and sorry we couldn’t make it.”

  “Will do.”

  I end the call and put the finishing touches on my gifts.

  “You went overboard.” Cameron drops down next to me on the couch and props his long denim-clad legs on the coffee table, ankles crossed with socked feet.

  “I know, but it’s a special day.” I drop back, and he wraps a possessive arm around my waist.

  He pushes my hair back over my shoulder, and the move has me tilting my head, inviting his lips. “Good thing your boss pays well.”

  His growled words against the tender flesh of my throat send goose bumps down my arms. “That you do.” My heart races and my body tingles. “You sure you want to start this?”

  “Mm-hmm.” He continues to assault my neck and jaw in light kisses and pulls of his teeth.

  A low moan vibrates deep in my throat, and I fight the urge to push him back and straddle him right here. “We . . . We have to leave in thirty minutes.” The breathy sound of my voice makes him groan.

  “Right.” He drops one last kiss below my earlobe then pushes back, but pulls me down to rest in the crook of his arm. “We’ll pick this up when we get home from Rosie’s.”

  “About that, I just . . . I want to say thank you.” It sounds so lame, doesn’t do a sliver of justice to how I really feel. “You’ve given me Rosie and Ryder, and hell, even D’lilah. I love you guys, and you gave me all that. I’ll never be able to repay you.”

  “Bullshit. You’re the force that brought my family together and the glue that’s keeping us there.”

  “Cam, that’s not—”

  He hooks my chin and brings my gaze to his. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved any woman, as much as I love my own kids. Whether or not you’re ready to hear this, I’m sayin’ it. You’re part of this family. Sooner or later I’ll put a ring on that finger and make it official. If you want kids, I’ll give ’em to you. Bottom line . . . I’ve fallen for you, Yvette. I ain’t ever gettin’ up. So you—”

  I crash my mouth to his and sink into a deep kiss. His hands fist in my hair, pulling me closer and holding me there. Exactly where I want to be.

  My fingers dig into his bicep, and it’s all I can do to not become overwhelmed by him. But instead of sucking up every ounce of this, storing up everything he gives out of fear that it’ll all be taken away, I slow down. My lips glide against his in a slow seduction, nibbling for once in my life rather than devouring out of fear that I’ll never have it this good again. For the first time, I feel entitled, as if I’ve earned this kind of love. And that in itself is miraculous.

  Everything I never had crept into my life the day I met Cameron. I swore I’d never let anyone in, built up walls to ensure my heart would be protected, but leave it to the best fighter in the UFL to shatter them.

  ~*~

  Cameron

  I don’t remember the last time I smiled so much my damn cheeks hurt. It’s been forever since I’ve been able to be in Rosie’s room at the care facility without sinking into a pit of guilt and depression. But now, surrounded by my kids, my ex-wife, and Eve, it’s as if the world started spinning again, and it’s Eve who set it in motion.

  “Okay, it’s Rosie’s turn to open a present from me.” Eve brings over a large box, and sitting in a chair across from my daughter, she places the box on her own knees.

  “Hold up.” Ryder raises his hand in mock offense. “The movies, the books, and now you’re giving her more? I got gypped!”

  We all chuckle as Eve pulls off the ribbon and rips open the bright red paper. Her hands placed on the box’s lid, she smiles at my daughter. “You ready?” She pulls the lid off, tosses it aside, and lifts up a stack of magazines.

  I squint and, upon D’lilah’s gasp, realize what Eve’s just done.

  “These are all the old magazines I kept that have your mom on the cover. I’m passing them on to you.” Eve turns from Rosie to a choked up ’Li. “I figured there’s a lot of stories behind these images. Bet your daughter would love to hear them.”

  My throat swells, and my eyes burn as D’lilah jumps from her seat to hug Eve. I catch my woman’s eyes and pray that she sees my appreciation.

  “Eve, wow . . .” D’lilah takes the stack of magazines and plops them on her lap. “Oh my gosh, this photo shoot was in Japan.” She flips through the pages. “Oh, see here. You can’t tell, but I was so sick this day.” Eve leaves the seat in front of Rosie, and D’lilah takes it. Lost in her story, she holds the photos up to her daughter. “Look at this one, baby. My hair was shorter here, like yours.”

  “Doll.” Eve’s eyes find mine. “Come here.”

  She glides over to me, and I pull her down to my lap.

  “Fuckin’ love you, babe.” I run my nose along her jaw, breathing in the warm sugary scent. “Sweet gift you gave my girl.”

  She shrugs. “Nah, they’re just magazines.”

  “Not just magazines. You gave Rosie . . .” We both look over to D’lilah and Rosie, who are now surrounded by a smiling Ryder and Rosie’s nurse. “You gave Rosie her mom back.”

  Eve sucks in a quick breath and then hides her face in my neck. “I was hoping I could do that for her.”

  I run my fingers through her hair, my eyes fixed on my little girl and D’lilah’s light laughter ringing through the room, when suddenly—wait, did she?

  “Oh my gosh, Cam, did you see that?” D’lilah’s eyes are glistening with tears.

  Eve jumps off my lap and we surround Rosie.

  “Yep, I saw it.” Ryder ruffles his sister’s hair. “That was a smile.”

  “I saw it too.” It was unmistakable: the tiny twitch of her lip.

  “Of course she smiled.” Eve sounds so confident, as if the assumption that she wouldn’t smile is offensive. “She’s perfect.”

  I pull Eve into my arms and bury my nose in all that blond hair. “I can’t believe it. You got my little girl to smile.”

  She tilts her head back. “I was hoping she would. That was my Christmas present to you.”

  I blink at what she just said. “Wait, so this isn’t the first time you’ve seen that?

  She shakes her head. “She did it on my last vis
it. I told her if she could pull that off for Christmas that would be great since I planned on spending all my money on her and her brother. That was the only gift I could think to give to you.”

  “Fuckin’ hell, doll.” I wrap her in my arms, amazed that this incredible woman is capable of giving me so much in such a short period of time. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Falling isn’t always failure. Sometimes the biggest victories only happen when we’re brave enough to let go and give in to the pull.

  ~The End~

  Acknowledgments

  First, thank you God for giving me the opportunity and ability to write stories and share them with the world.

  To my husband, thank you for your support and for doing your own laundry when I’m stuck behind the computer, lost in the writing.

  Thank you to my girls who are a constant inspiration and bring me more joy than I could imagine.

  To my family, thanks for supporting me from day one and helping when I need it. Whether it’s been a motivating shove in the butt or someone to watch the kids, you’ve never let me down.

  Thank you to Evelyn Johnson for dropping everything when I need to travel, keeping my schedule so I show up places on time, organizing everything from my brain to meet and greets, but, most importantly, thank you for being a loyal and loving friend. I’d be lost without you . . . literally. But you already know that.

  I’m forever indebted to my amazing crew of critique partners. Sharon Kay, Claudia Conner, Racquel Reck, and N.J. Layouni. Thank you for pushing me to be my best every single time. Your friendship means the world to me, and I don’t know where I’d be without you.

  To my partner in crime, PI Ninja, Maya Banks stalker, and all things in between buddy, Cristin Harber. Honest to goodness, my world would not spin without you in it. I cherish our friendship and our working partnership more than words could say. I will forever be ready in all black with a beanie cap for barrel rolls . . . anytime, anyplace.

  I can’t thank my PIMA, Amanda Simpson from Pixel Mischief Design, enough. You have been there from day one and are the creative force behind my brand. I’m forever grateful for everything you’ve taught me, but most importantly I’m honored by your friendship. If all this ends tomorrow, I know I’d have a friend for life in you. Thank you for allowing me to be your PITA.