Love TKO

by Selene Chardou

  They were both close, and soon they’d be swept up and away by pure bliss.

  Torin picked her up and held her to him while trying not to trip on his own pants legs as he climbed the stairs with her in his arms. He didn’t make it past the opening of her bedroom door before he pushed her frame against the wall and drove in and out of her in a frenzied passion. Her whole body trembled around him and he felt her tighten and contract until she held him like a steel vice and her whole body tensed. He tumbled over the edge with her and they came together in a string of curse words and moans.

  After the initial euphoric feeling began to wear off, he slowly turned around and sat her on the bed.

  He pulled off his pants after kicking his shoes to the side and walked into her bathroom where he fetched a hand towel and wet it with warm water. His thundering heart had yet to let up as he knelt between her legs and cleaned her up. Chiara slid off her thong after it was done and crawled to the top of her California King sized bed and crawled under the covers.

  “Aren’t you going to join me?” she wondered in a casual voice though it still sounded like she was asking for another round of sex and he wouldn’t mind that.

  “Yes.” Torin approached his side of the bed and slid under the covers. He hadn’t yet quite recovered but he would be ready to go soon enough.

  He needed to distract her from what he’d confided because he had no wish to talk about something that was a suicide plan waiting to happen.

  As his arms wrapped around her body and she turned toward him, the look in her eyes said the same thing. The room was merely lit by moonlight but her dark eyes glistened with unshed tears and were begging him to reconsider. Why couldn’t he? If not for his own sake than hers?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chiara

  HOW DO YOU know if you’re crazy, stupid and drunk in love with a person?

  Only they can annoy the fuck out of you to no end. At this point in our relationship, I was firmly there and at my limit with Torin. He was so fucking pig-headed sometimes and this was one of those dreaded occasions where he knew exactly what he wanted to do. If I could have talked him out of making the most idiotic decision of his life, I would have.

  Three weeks can often feel like a century but they can also feel like a day. The three weeks previous to the Championship match approached with growing intensity and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry most days.

  During these same three weeks, Sienna and Kieran’s status had changed to a supposed relationship and she was over the moon, talkative, funny and religiously taking her meds. Meanwhile I was a ball of anxiety and nerves; popping Xanax and Wellbutrin while smoking joints like they were about to go out of style.

  My behavior was self-destructive and helped no one but most days, I didn’t know what needed to be said to stop him from going through with what could spell the end of my fiancé’s life. How could he put us at jeopardy because he had too much integrity to throw a fight? It was just a stupid fight that would last less than an evening but we had our whole lives ahead of us. Why couldn’t he think about the situation in those terms? Why did life have to be so fucking black and white for Torin? Didn’t he know it was various shades of gray or we wouldn’t be together?

  I’d never felt so out of control of my own destiny in my whole entire life yet there wasn’t a whole lot I could do to stop the downward spiral.

  His quarterfinal and semifinal fights passed without incident before the billboards and commercials began about the Championship match between Torin Duffy and undefeated UFC fighter, Victor Rodriguez. He looked so menacing with his bronze skin, jet black hair and brown eyes so dark they looked black with brute handsome features. It didn’t help he was married to former top porn star, Madison Benz, and they’d recently welcomed a baby girl to their growing family.

  I suppose you could say he was a cliché and Torin was equally a cliché by being with me, a former escort. We were both glamour women with former risqué professions but I was all dark hair and amber eyes, olive-skinned and exotic; a perfect foil to my somewhat tanned blond, blue-eyed fiancé. Madison was of medium height, thin to the point of being anorexic, a bottle-blonde, tanned skin, sky blue eyes and enough plastic surgery from a nose job to double-D boobs to make me look absolutely classy to her trashy.

  Not that I minded. It was times like this I was grateful I’d been a high-class escort and my clientele—judges, attorneys, oil sheiks, Russian billionaires and sports stars who were mostly engaged or married—were too frightened about their reputation to come out and ever own up to sleeping with the likes of me. I’d been hired help to them, like the maid, only more glamorous and servicing them sexually as opposed to polishing their silver or taking care of their neglected children.

  I couldn’t complain; the money was still green and I celebrated retirement at an age early enough to get married and hopefully start a family of my own one day. However, it was hard to get pregnant if my fiancé ended up six feet under.

  It got so bad, I had panic attacks at Torin’s home because everything reminded me of him. His bedroom had his masculine scent and the cologne he wore written all over it. I began to drive home to my own house during the day where I could smoke a joint in peace.

  The day was Thursday, just two days before the match and I paced in my bedroom. It was too hot to have the window open but I had the AC Unit at sixty-eight degrees while the window was cracked and I smoked my joint in peace. I’d already had one milligram of Xanax and a one hundred milligram tablet of Wellbutrin. The warm air from outside blew into my bedroom and kept it from ever getting below seventy-five degrees while I sat in my favorite La-Z-Boy, cream leather recliner and smoked a joint.

  The leather stuck to my exposed legs and arms since I only wore a pair of boyfriend jean shorts and a black tank top. My skin had a fine sheen of sweat covering it while I tried to read on my tablet. Not even the latest romantic suspense novel everyone was talking about on Amazon could keep my mind at ease. I closed the cover and set the iPad beside me.

  “You’re so pathetic. You know all I had to do was follow the smell of marijuana as soon as I entered your house? What’re you doing here? Why aren’t you at Torin’s place?”

  Sienna’s voice barely roused me from my increasingly numb state of mind. I waved and looked in her direction. “What are you doing here and how did you get in my house?”

  “I used the code…duh?” She rolled her eyes and approached me in a pretty cocktail sundress and strappy Jimmy Choos. It was the perfect look for a cameo appearance on Sex & the City.

  “Don’t you look vintage?” I teased.

  “Is that some kind of code word for don’t I look out of the current style? Listen, I wouldn’t wear a jumpsuit for all the money in the world, no matter how hot and happening they are this year,” Sienna sneered.

  “No need to go all postal about fashion, sis. No one would shoot you for the way you look and just so you know, you carry off the outfit quite well.”

  “Why thank you.” She smiled and cocked her head to the side. “Why aren’t you watching Torin practice or something? Odds are two to one in his favor. That’s great, right?”

  “Yeah, I should go down to Aliante Casino and place a bet myself. Five thousand dollars on the clean-cut white guy.” I glared into my sister’s bright green eyes before I dragged on my joint. “I know it doesn’t surprise you he’s the odds on favorite. It sure as fuck didn’t surprise me.”

  Her heels click-clacked against my tiled bedroom floor before she sat down across from me on a matching cream La-Z-Boy recliner. “Well of course it wouldn’t surprise you—hell, you’re more cynical than I am. What’s going on? You’ve been a wreck and you won’t let me in. I hate when you keep secrets from me. You know I’ll find out eventually so just spill it, little sister.

  “Nothing is going on, Sienna. Although you might not be aware of it, not everything is a goddamn conspiracy.”

  “Of course it is. Aliens are real and the U.S. government h
elped Wall Street engineer the banking crises so they could control every part of our lives. They also had a hand in nine-eleven and almost every tragedy of the late twentieth and twenty-first century. Open your eyes, Chiara.”

  I laughed out loud, a case of the giggles caused by a mixture of really good chronic, and my happy pills. “You can’t possibly be serious and truly believe that shit.”

  “It’s true.” My sister glared at me.

  “Listen, you need to stop listening to Rush Limbaugh or Glenn Beck or whatever crock on the satellite radio has you convinced of this shit.”

  “They come on AM radio stations, not satellite.”

  I glared at my sister as if she’d lost her mind. “Exactly what medications do they have you on nowadays?”

  “Lithium and Seroquel.” She smiled. “It’s a good combo actually because Lithium on its own doesn’t do it for me but Seroquel has been great. It’s my happy pill.”

  Great, now we both had happy pills. Maybe I needed to see my general practitioner and have her pull me off the Wellbutrin. If I was smoking a joint, it wasn’t such a happy pill after all.

  “Listen, I’m glad the pills are helping but ease up on the talk radio, the conspiracy theories et al—I have enough shit on my plate at the moment. I shouldn’t have to be worried about you too.”

  “Well then don’t because I have Kieran and he’s been great.”

  I rolled my eyes. “And how long is this one supposed to last?”

  “We really get along and like each other, Chiara. Why can’t I be the one to have a happy ending with the brother?”

  “One of his brothers,” I added. “Torin has three brothers as well as two cousins who were raised by his parents.”

  “Well, the only brother that lives in Sin City with him. I know one of their siblings’ resides in Seattle and the other is a Navy SEAL but he’s over in Afghanistan at the moment and stationed in San Diego.”

  “I didn’t know Kieran was big on pillow talk,” I replied wryly before I stubbed out my joint and stood.

  “You’d be surprised what Kieran likes to do in bed.”

  “Ugh! I sure as hell don’t want that in my mental rolodex.” I walked into my bathroom and closed the door behind me before I used the toilet, washed my hands and came out to find my sister still seated in the same spot looking out my window. “What the hell is that motherfucker doing? I’m about to get Southwest Gas involved. He doesn’t have to read my fucking meter when my bill’s paid on time and I don’t use the gas in the summer anyway except to dry clothes. I prefer grilled food this time of the year—it tastes better.”

  “Are you dredging up another conspiracy theory, sister dearest?” I wondered out loud.

  “I came over because Kieran said Torin would like to see you every now and then when he practices. This hasn’t just been hard on you but him as well and he wants to know he has your support.” She stood and glanced out the window again with puckered lips and her brows furrowed. “I’m going to see my man but you can stay here and smoke pot all day. I hear getting high all day, every day is making a comeback. How very…nineties grunge of you. Are you moving on to heroin when your happy pills stop working?”

  “Oh, fuck off, Sienna! Go back to your man-whore who will drop you next week because he’s already got another bitch he’s promised forever to and you’re nothing but a fucking distraction! I sacrificed my fucking life for you and this is the thanks I get? Just get out.”

  “Nice to know you support my relationship, Chiara. I didn’t realize you were the jealous type.” She shook her head sadly before she picked up her clutch purse. “Fine. I’m going down to the gym and you can wallow in your own misery.”

  I instantly felt bad about what I said, not only because it was petty and vindictive but underneath my sister’s happy-going exterior lived a troubled woman who could turn on a dime and become very depressed. Did I really want to drag her down in my dark pit of misery because I felt like shit? It wasn’t her fault I pretty much felt powerless at the moment to change anything in my life.

  I ran a hand through my ponytail, exhaled and said, “Please stop.”

  She’d reached the double doors to my master bedroom and turned to face me. “What do you want?”

  “Listen, I’ll go to the gym with you. If you can wait a few minutes, I’ll change and put on something more appropriate.”

  “Fine, I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  “Sienna?” I called out.

  She turned to face me. “What’s up?”

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem. What’re sisters for if not to annoy the hell out of each other and drive one another bat-shit crazy?”

  She definitely had a point there.

  ALTHOUGH MY STATUS had changed and I was now officially Torin’s fiancée, the gym where he worked out remained intimidating as always. It was secretly one of the main reasons why I avoided it. That and Neil trained several welterweight champions who I’d seen in a professional capacity, including Jesse.

  Honor, Neil’s daughter, welcomed us with a warm smile and her son, Duffy “Duff” Decker, by her side. She’d named him after the Duffy brothers, and although I wouldn’t have saddled my son with the name, they’d been there for her through all the shit, including her husband’s time in prison and the aftermath.

  “Hey, ladies, don’t you two look smokin’ hot!” she greeted with bright hazel-green eyes.

  We’d connected immediately once we realized we both had mothers that had hailed from Louisiana, though her mother was from New Orleans and had died of ovarian cancer when she was teen.

  “Thanks,” I replied. “It’s always so warm in here so it’s an excuse to wear as little as possible.”

  Although my cocktail dress didn’t hit me in the crack of my ass, it was short at mid-thigh, canary yellow and went perfect with a pair of Betsy Johnson espadrilles I’d been dying to wear.

  “Come on, let’s go hang in the lounge. It’s nice and cool in there.”

  Duff took the opportunity to take off in another direction and watch the fighters in the ring. As we passed the main ring, I waved to Torin who gave me a quick nod and a smile while he sparred with Kurt Decker, Honor’s husband.

  “I’ll see you two back there. I want to chat with Kieran.” Sienna rushed off with a squeal, while Honor and I walked side by side to the lounge.

  I had to admit it was refreshing to get some time alone with her. She’d faced some huge obstacles in her life, all for the love of the game. Her father was a trainer, her husband was a boxer and she’d birthed him a son, who would no doubt follow in his father’s footsteps. If there was any wisdom to be gained from my situation, she would possess it more than most women.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Honor inquired as we walked into the lounge where it was nice and cool.

  “Bottled water would be nice,” I replied with a smile.

  She grabbed two from the fridge before she turned back to me. Her long, chestnut hair with honey-blond streaks was pulled into a ponytail and she looked comfortable in a pair of cut off jean shorts, which skimmed her slim figure and a pink tank top with a matching pair of elevated flip-flops.

  “So, I’m guessing Sienna dragged you here. It’s no secret she and Kieran are dating.”

  “I guess you could call it that.” I opened my bottled water as soon as I sat down and swigged from it. I didn’t care how unladylike I looked. I was thirsty as hell.

  Honor smiled as she took a seat next to me. “I take it you don’t approve?”

  “Christ, is it that obvious?”

  “Yeah, it is.” She laughed out loud. “Listen, if I had a sister, I wouldn’t want her dating a man-whore either so I can definitely relate but at the same time, it’s her life to live. You can’t really tell her what to do.”

  “You’re right—I can’t. She’s older than me for God’s sake.”

  Honor placed her water down on the table and folded her hands in her lap. “Is that really what
’s concerning you at the moment?”

  I shook my head. “No, not really. I wish my sister’s love life was the only thing I had to be concerned about.”

  “Then what’s really bothering you?”

  “This fucking fight on Saturday, Torin’s stubbornness and the inability to even begin to plan a wedding because I don’t know if I’ll have a fiancé after Saturday’s fight—”

  “What are you talking about? Torin is a two to one favorite over Rodriguez,” Honor interrupted.

  “Yeah, I know. But how much of that is running up the odds so people who bet against him can cash out after Rodriguez murders him in the ring or something? How much of it is old grannies and white guys betting for someone with same lack of melanin in their skin as Torin?”

  “You’re right and…I can’t fault or blame you for your attitude because not much changes through the years except we get older.” She smiled. “Listen, I’ll admit it: I placed a bet on Tor. Not because he’s white or I don’t know my sports but because I’ve seen him practice and he’s fucking amazing. He’s better now than he’s been since…I don’t know, since he started fighting professionally on the UFC circuit. He’s quick on his feet and honest to God, I just want him to beat that smug prick with his cheap, slutty wife who he parades around like the First Lady.”

  “I can’t blame you there. Victor is quite the pompous asshole.”

  I would know because I’d been “blessed” with the unfortunate opportunity of being hired out to him two years previously, fucking him multiple times and it was awful. He was a bigger prick than you could ever know, and can’t fuck to save his life unless you like jack-rabbit sex.

  I laughed nervously at this statement. “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “Listen,” Honor began softly, “I don’t know what is going on and I’m so glad Torin finally found the right woman to settle down with. I know about your connections to Raymond and…it doesn’t matter to me. Believe me, Kurt is no choir boy and I don’t judge people based upon what they’ve done but rather how they have impacted someone’s life. I can’t even begin to know what kind of struggle you’ve been through but you lived through it and live your life in the now, Chiara. Don’t let your past dictate your future.”