by Wyatt, Dani
The scar across his chest still felt tight. Just more of a reminder why he was here.
They grappled, slamming with a grunt into the chain link, the screaming of the crowd calling for blood.
Flynn worked around the beast as he hammered into the meat of his abdominals a few times, taking away some of his breath and sending him stumbling back.
They weren’t here to dance, and Flynn could see the way his opponent pulled his lips back, grunting with each slam of Flynn’s fist into the meat of his face.
Steve the Steam Engine came back with a swipe of his right leg, low. Flynn popped up and over the swish of his leg, landing with one foot on either side before falling atop his prone opponent.
It only took another six seconds for Flynn to wrap his legs around the behemoth’s sore right leg. Their bodies were slick and slipping against each other as Flynn fought for the perfect position to apply the most pressure to hyperflex Steve’s knee.
The grunts and punches of fist on meat turned into background noise. Steve was pounding into the side of Flynn’s skull, desperately trying to throw him off.
Each smack of fist on face sent a jolt of light behind Flynn’s eyes, but he blocked out the sensation as he contorted his body around the wild animal in his grasp. Finally getting his legs curved and into position, he tightened down and pushed his opponent’s knee in an unnatural direction.
“Arrrrr!!! Fuck!!!” The mammoth on the floor growled in muffled pain through his yellow mouth guard as Flynn’s face drew back in the effort.
The veins on his neck turned to branches, standing out beneath his skin until it looked like they would come through the surface.
“Don’t fucking let go, don’t let go! You got him! Just don’t let go! Hips up and pull!” Roger screamed from outside the cage.
Flynn roared as Steve pounded into his kidneys from behind. They slipped on their sweat, sliding across the mat a few inches with each punch to his lower back.
“Fuck!” Flynn yanked back another inch, and he felt the pressure build, any more force and he would hear tendons snap.
Fucking tap, you motherfucker! Tap, don’t you make me do it! Don’t make me do it…
Flynn’s heart pounded like a sledge against his chest wall as the broken beast under him writhed and sent another two slams into his head, and then he wrapped his fist around and managed a knuckle shot against his upper teeth, breaking open his lip and sending a stream of jet fuel over Flynn’s tongue.
The fight ended with a scream as Flynn adjusted for a split second, then snapped Steve’s knee backward just as he felt the first tap hit his shoulder.
Fuck you, motherfucker. You should have tapped sooner.
***
The ring whores stood at the ready as Flynn strode down the hall to the locker room with blood still streaming into his eyes and sweat stinging the wide gash over his nose and another across his left brow.
“Hey.” A sultry female voice greeted him.
Inside the locker room a bottle-blonde with tits on her shoulders and lips that looked like she was stung by a bee eyed Flynn up and down as he came around the corner.
“Hey.” He gave her a nod, and she took a step toward him.
“Great fight. Who you fight for? You should be signed, ‘cause that was incredible out there. Made me hot.”
She twisted a strand of something that used to be hair but now looked like dry off-white tinder.
“Yeah,” Flynn grunted.
All the fury still bubbled right at the surface, he knew what she wanted and six months ago, he would already have her on her knees or against the wall without any pleasantries.
But, it was a different world now.
Or was it?
Lilly had made her choice; there’s only so much gasoline you can throw on a fire before it burns itself out, and that was exactly what she did.
So why not? Fuck this thing in the cheap acrylic stripper heels and seal the end of what was obviously a big, fucking mistake. Guys like Flynn knew better that to hope for more. They weren’t cut from the cloth that let them have feelings and plan for a future.
No. For him, he felt most at home like this. In pain — or what most people would call pain — throbbing in his head and his body. Blood ran in his mouth, and he sucked it in and reveled in its flavor. This was who he was. Black hearted, his own sadist and masochist. He felt at home in pain, but he also felt damn good giving it out.
Lilly was a momentary lapse.
A tempting sojourn thrown in his path to test him for weakness, to steady his resolve. His wasn’t a life born of love, and how he thought he would have any frame of reference for what that would be, had been folly.
So, here stood his official key to the re-entry to who he really was. A bleached blonde gateway back to his comfortable hell. All he needed to do was spin her around, get his dick ready and make the break from any and all things Lilly.
“You’re still bleeding.” Trailer-trash Tracy took another step closer, dipping her toe in to see how warm the water was.
Flynn felt nothing; he was back where he belonged, where he understood things.
“Bend over; put your hands on that locker.”
***
He was going nowhere when the Bronco hit I-75.
All around him empty lots and burned out houses, shadowed figures dotted the streets as he hit the ramp at ninety.
Seven fucking days. Seven days since you left her in that shower. Why the fuck are you still here? Tomorrow, Boston. Out of this fucking shit hole, and I can’t see her again. Like fucking ever. It was get the fuck out of that room or kill her or me. Right? I had no choice. She gave me no choice.
Going back to the dump of an apartment didn’t occur to him tonight. He’d packed up anything he needed in one suitcase when he left the guest house and spent the last seven days hunkered down in his former safe house with grandma screaming at her kids upstairs. Even after the day they’d picked him up off the floor of that shit box shivering and delusional, his rent was still paid for another month.
His plane took off at 8 am; it was already almost midnight and for the life of him, he didn’t know where he was going between now and then. He didn’t even know what the fuck he was going to do in Boston, but it was as good a jumping off point as any.
His dick started pulsing as he drove. Not because he’d finished what he started in the locker room with the nameless silicone stacked blonde, but because he couldn’t.
It wasn’t that his dick wasn’t righteous and ready. He just couldn’t.
Lilly was still on him, in him, and his brain shut that shit down as he slammed his fist into the locker when the ready and willing girl had raised her skirt and given him his back stage pass.
He swigged on his water. He tipped the bottle high, his head flexed back, eyes leaving the road.
There was a screaming, screeching sound. Then, a neck cracking jolt and his water sprayed as the bottle flew out of his hand and crashed into the windshield.
Flynn fought the steering wheel as streaks of red lights spun in front of him.
It was too late. His head pounded.
The Bronco lurched and jerked. The sound of scraping and crunching metal blew up around him.
The smell of rubber and the sound of something like a giant teakettle ready to explode were the next things he remembered. Next,squealing tires and his heart raced, and his body felt strange.
When he could focus, Flynn looked around but the freeway was empty, black. The Bronco was up against the guardrail, and there was a new throbbing in his head as he shifted his body back to a more normal angle.
“What the Jesus Fuck,” He growled and brought one hand to where his head was screaming.
Good, no new blood. That fucker cut me off — FUCK. Pussy took off too, probably good. I can’t see him walking away if I got my hands on him.
The Bronco amazingly was still running, the back end took the brunt of the hit and then spun back, hitting the same spot against the gu
ardrail.
Shake it off, bro. You don’t always need a plan; sometimes you just need balls. Harden the fuck up, get moving.
Being slammed around was far from the worst part of the day.
Sure, he’d killed it in the ring, got his ass a contract offer out from under his father and tomorrow, he was off to Boston to figure out how to fucking live again. But, the worst part of the day was knowing that he’d really decided.
The switch flipped, and he’d turned her off in his head.
It all made sense; this was what is supposed to happen. She was smart, she was a big girl, she wanted that life, more power to her.
But he didn’t. He was done. Boston was far enough, for now, and with a newly minted hatred and venom under his belt, he couldn’t foresee anyone beating him in the ring for a very long time.
It would suck to leave Roger, old dude grew on him like mold. But, fuck it, Flynn felt loyalty to no one. He just wanted to fight, and Simon Reed didn’t care if he trained here or Boston.
The Bronco lurched forward as Flynn gave her a tentative tap on the gas; a few cars drove past as he moved slowly off the rail, but in this part of town, no one was going to stop and offer help
It was pitch black, but he felt the lights come on inside his head. He pushed the accelerator and the needle rose until it shook at 95. He knew exactly where he was going.
***
Colin smiled.
He actually smiled at Lilly, and she sat down at the long table, the Powerpoint on the screen to her right on the final page of her presentation.
“Great work.” Colin looked at her then out at the other nine engineers around the table.
Ana rolled her eyes so only Lilly could see.
“Well, great progress everyone. Lilly, amazing vision and work as usual. So, everyone is on the same page? Good. We have an investor meeting in four days. I’ll be traveling until then. So, everyone knows what needs to be accomplished, yes?”
Silent nods from around the table as Colin stood, buttoned his jacket and took a glance at himself in the reflection of the floor to ceiling windows of the conference room.
A giant white board behind him mapped out the intricacy of what Lilly’s brain held, but there were pieces and parts that only she seemed to grasp.
“Good, then I will see you all in four days. Lilly, come with me.” He nodded toward the door, and Lilly shifted in her chair giving Ana a sad smile as she followed.
Colin strode into the server room before turning and giving her another awkward smile. “I meant what I said in there. You are doing great work.”
“Thanks. I’m trying.”
“It’s working.” He leaned his face down to try to catch her eye. “And, your attitude has been a nice turnaround. For us, too. Yes?”
He’d even kissed her cheek the last two nights after dinner. Lilly felt nothing, but it seemed she would be able to tolerate him after all. She’d lost count of the days since he’d given her the last smack across her face.
“Yes.” The correct muscles upturned Lilly’s lips, but it was still far from a smile.
“Good. So, you will be ready to go when I get back Friday. The limo will be ready at six o’clock. I will fly in that afternoon, and we will go to the dinner together. Remember, part of this is we are selling you. Selling us actually. The investors are very much aware of the two families and the marriage between us is part of the glue holding this deal together, so let’s show them what they want to see, yes?”
“Of course. I’m trying.”
“Yes you are. And I appreciate the effort. I’ve shown you that, haven’t I?” His self-righteous smug face turned her stomach sour.
Lilly pulled her lips back and forth, she couldn’t manage an answer.
“Yes. You are.” Colin answered for her. “Okay. Then, I’m off. You have everything you need at home; you’ve been showing your commitment to the project and to our own plans, so you’ve earned your freedoms. You’ve not taken advantage and therefore, I am comfortable granting you more. I’ve told security they do not need to keep such a tight rein on you. That is your reward for your little turnaround, okay?”
His hand was already on the door handle, and he was trying to catch another glimpse of himself in any reflection he could find.
“Sure thing.”
He was already out the door before she got the words out, phone at his ear.
Before Lilly typed in her password to get back to work, Ana was coming through the door.
“Well, well. Are you the task master’s golden child? He bordered on human in there today.”
“At least one of us did.”
“What’s the deal? I’m done badgering you; you’ve looked like a hospice patient for a week and every time I try to talk to you, you find some reason to disappear. Spill. This isn’t PMS or a bad hair day, so tell me. I know probably what you’re going to say, but I want to know details. What happened?”
Lilly dropped her head to the desk and started gently banging her forehead on the gray Formica.
“Really? The drama,” Ana snarked.
“I’m just being a baby. Just let me have my baby-ness okay?” Lilly turned her head to rest her cheek on the desk and look as Ana’s eyes rolled back in her head. “Uggggggg. I’m getting married in less than four weeks, and I’m this happy.”
“Really? So, you’re going to marry him? What about…” Ana looked back over her shoulder.
“Yes. He’s not so bad, and I think I’m just going through a stage. I mean, first world problems, right? Oh, a super-rich, pretty good-looking guy is going to marry me and secure mine and my mom’s future? NO, NO! Don’t ruin my life!”
“Stop, gaaawwddd. He’s the head asshole. Like the Prime Minister of Assholes. This isn’t a first world problem; this is signing up for misery.”
“Arranged marriages work about as well as any others. It’s about getting your mind right.”
“Yeah? You’ll need a lobotomy to make your mind right with this.”
“Shut up. Just be supportive okay?”
“Supportive? Of what? Of watching you walk down the—” Ana spun around as someone tapped on the glass of the door and motioned for her to come. She waved them off and nodded her head. “I gotta go, the troll brothers are waiting. So, no more Flynn? You okay with that? Really?”
Lilly sat up, pulled her shoulders back trying to convince herself she was good. “Yeah. I’ve never been better. Just a stupid mistake that could have blown my whole world up and hurt the only person in the world I care about. So, yeah, I wised up about that. Momentary distraction. Wrong time, wrong person, wrong life, wrong family — wrong, wrong, wrong. Besides, as I expected, he had other motives. A guy like that was never going to really be into me.”
“Uh huh.” Ana smacked her playfully on the back of the head on her way out.
If I did the right thing, why do I feel like I’m inside a black hole?
She also knew it would pass. People went through this all the time and came out the other side, she was just a slow learner. Besides, he was her first and that must make it feel even worse. How could she have been so naive?
He wasn’t her equal; she knew that in her heart. Looking at herself, what she saw then looking at him. No way did they fit together. She knew in her deepest heart, there had to be something more that he wanted, and that turned out to be the painful truth.
She was just the perfect way to say “fuck you” to his father, and that was kind of the irony.
He fucked her to fuck him.
Lilly let out a sad, quiet chuckle at that thought as she went back to work. There was some satisfaction in the project. It was her baby, and seeing it coming alive had its own reward outside of the financial boon to the family.
She had no ownership in the company, no financial reward of her own. It was all for the greater good, the “family” way.
Still, she wanted it to succeed. To be part of something — at least she had that. It was better than just sitting at hom
e waiting to be the lady of the house.
By 6:30, her eyes were beginning to water and her brain hurt. That little voice in her head egged her on to do something she had tried to fight off all week.
The last thing she remembered that night when he’d let the Jameson drive her home was what Flynn had said just before he turned out the bathroom door leaving her in the shower.
“Do what you want,” he’d said. “But, don’t do this. Not this.” He’d held up the crystal glass that contained a finger of scotch and slammed it into the enormous clawfoot tub, the sound shattered through her drunken haze and the water rushed over her ears. “It will be the end of you, of who you really are, and that is worse than dying.”
Now, she’d gone six days without a drink. By the second day, she’d thrown up once, but there were no dramatic shakes or delusions. She had never gone that far. It was a bad habit, a crutch that had turned from an occasion into a routine.
But, it was calling to her now as she left the SPIN server room, out the glass doors into the evening. The call of the bottle egged her on, and with her newfound freedom, the glow of the liquor store on the first corner she turned drew her like a lighthouse in a storm.
From there, the car seemed to drive itself. She took side streets and freeways, looking down at the brown bag she’d buckled into the passenger seat, cursing it and longing for it for two hours before she pulled into a restaurant and tried to remember what it was like to choose her own meal for a change.
“You done, ma’am? Can I bring you anything else?”
The poor server had checked back with her five times after clearing her barely touched dinner. She’d sat there nursing one glass of Jameson, the dance of the amber liquid coming only to her lips before she set it down again for the hundredth time.
“No. I’m fine.”
“Okay. We’re closing in twenty minutes.”
Lilly looked down at her phone.
“Wow. God, I’m so sorry. I lost track of time.”
Gathering her bag, she caught a glimpse of the cell from Flynn, its battery dead, but for some reason she hadn’t thrown it into the trash.