Beautiful PRICK

by Kenzie, Sophia

“I don’t…” I stupidly stutter. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you?”

  “Here’s the deal.”

  Now there’s a deal? What is happening?

  But I don’t say anything. I simply let him go on with the deal.

  “The network commissioned me to work on a pilot. Since it’s mine, I get a big say when it comes to the team. I’d like to sit down with you. Maybe let you pitch some of your ideas to me.”

  I’m stunned. Shocked. I… I… can’t think straight.

  And of course, I want to run straight to Johnny to tell him.

  “Josh,” I hold out my hand to shake his. “Thank you so much for this opportunity.”

  We hash out the details of a little coffee and pitch meeting, and then I’m off. It’s dark by the time I get home, and I have about an hour before I want to head to the rickety, flickering light bulb above the thick metal doorway to the maze of basement hallways that ultimately lead to the most exciting underground experience I have ever encountered.

  But my mind is going in a thousand directions. Should I really go to the match? I have to come up with pitches for this meeting, and I’m too excited to move.

  But I’m also too excited to sit still.

  Not only that, but I know Juan is fighting tonight. I have been replaying this fantasy in my head that his opponent won’t show up and they’ll have to pick someone out of the crowd to fight him, so I valiantly volunteer. He laughs, remembering who I am and how easy it was to conquer me, but I quickly wipe that smile off his face with a roundhouse kick directly across his cheek.

  It’s silly, I know, but it’s a fantasy.

  I flip on the television, hoping to allow my mind to be blank for a little while, as I decide what to do, but not five minutes into my ever-thrilling crime show, there’s a knock on my door.

  A rush fills me as I think it very well could be Johnny, now I have so much to tell him with regards to my meeting with Josh, but then I combat that rush with a bout of annoyance that he has followed me home without an invitation. I throw open the door, preparing to scold him, but I am stopped short, as the person in front of me is only slightly Johnny.

  And by that, I mean that it’s his sister, Jules.

  “Jules… what are you doing here?” I try to hide my complete shock.

  “Mind if I crash with you?” She pushes past me.

  “Umm, no?” I’m so very confused.

  “Good.” She plops down on the couch. “Oooh, Criminal Minds. I love this show.”

  I slowly close the door behind me and approach her. “So, Jules, not that I’m not delighted that you’re here…” I start, but have no idea how to finish. I met the girl once. What the hell is she doing at my apartment?

  “Do you have popcorn? Or chips and guac? I’m famished.” She steals away into the kitchen.

  So I follow her. That’s what you do, right?

  “There’s hummus in the fridge and pretzels in the cabinet to your right.” I lead her toward something edible.

  “Hummus! Yes!” She’s very excited. Then she stops and stares at me. “You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here.”

  Did she not hear me ask her exactly that? “A little bit.” I awkwardly smile, trying to make it seem like I’m not at all nervous, which I am, for some reason.

  “Well, see…” She walks right past me, back into the living room, and takes a seat on the couch. “My brother left me this really cryptic message, so I thought, ‘eh, I have the day off tomorrow, maybe I’ll go see what’s up with him’.” She shoves a pretzel in her mouth. “Then I drove all the way into the city, knocked on his door, and he told me I couldn’t stay with him because he had a girl over.”

  I feel a twinge of jealousy. Okay, it’s way more than a twinge. I freaking hate that he has a girl over. That’s not at all okay. And yet, I could have been that girl, but I told him that I had plans.

  Stupid move, Caroline. Stupid.

  “So anyway,” she continues after swallowing her hummus-dipped pretzel. “I figured that you might be up for a slumber party.”

  I have no idea what is happening. It’s all really, really strange-like out of a weird fan fiction story. Julia Braylock goes to visit her brother (who happens to not only be a movie star, but also the man I’m currently sleeping with), but he tells her that she can’t stay over, so she chooses to bunk with me, someone she only met once, and only for about five minutes.

  Okay, no, I’m not that stupid.

  “What does he have on you?” I dip a pretzel into the hummus.

  “What?” She sits back and looks at me as if she’s puzzled, but I’m not falling for it.

  “Your brother. First, he has you help me out when I got mugged, now he’s having you pretend to want to have a slumber party with me so he can keep tabs on me because I told him I had plans tonight. He obviously has something on you.”

  Jules slaps her thighs as she laughs. “I told him you wouldn’t go for it. I don’t know what type of girls he’s used to hanging out with, but apparently, they’re not too bright.”

  “Apparently.” I agree as I join in on the laughter. “He wants you to come back with a report as to why I wasn’t able to hang out with him tonight?”

  She shrugs, knowing that it’s not worth the fight. “Pretty much.” Jules’s eyes soften as she briefly looks away. “And he doesn’t have anything on me, but I do have my reasons.”

  Johnny did mention how protective she’s become of him since their mother passed, I just didn’t realize to what extent. I so desperately want to ask her if Johnny actually has a girl over, or if that was just another part of the story-maybe she was also meant to gage my jealousy-but I have no right. It was my decision to enforce the casual sex rule. I can’t have it both ways. So instead, I stand and grab my bag.

  If Johnny wants to know what’s been keeping me up at night, then I might as well show his sister first hand.

  “Coming?” I raise my eyebrows at her.

  “Where?” She sits up straight, obviously intrigued.

  “You’ll see.” I smile before turning to walk out of the door.

  I park the car and tell her to follow me as we walk through the dimly lit parking lot toward the swinging, caged light. The bouncer knows me by name now, and even gives me a half hug before I drag Jules through the door.

  “Caroline? I have to admit: I’m a little nervous.” Her voice is shaking.

  “It’s not much farther.” I whisper as we approach the doorway that leads to the match.

  I push through the doors and warmly sigh as I look upon my mecca. The first fight is just about to start and everyone’s focus is on the center. I shove our way through the crowd, wanting to get the front row, center view. Jules follows on my heels, but I can tell she’s still very confused.

  “Is this some sort of underground fight?” She whispers as we finally land in our optimal spot.

  “Yup. Your brother brought me here.” I yell over the crowd.

  “Right, I could see that happening, but then what?” She gets very close to me as she glares at the surrounding swarm of fans. “You haven’t been coming here alone, have you?”

  “Why not?” I shrug.

  A fight breaks out next to us. I am half listening, so I know it has something to do with one party blocking another party, but I’m pretty used to that by now.

  Jules is not.

  She lets out a yelp as the fight veers toward our general direction, but I promise her it’s normal, and as soon as the sanctioned fight begins, they’ll stop rough housing.

  “This is normal?” She’s not handling the entire scene very well. “These are the people you choose to hang out with at night?”

  I turn to her; about to go off on a tangent about how she doesn’t know me and has no right to judge, but at this point, it all seems moot. What does it matter what Julia Braylock thinks of me? I’m not doing this for anyone else’s benefit, but mine.

  The first two matches come and go, and I start to feel my body
tremble as I anticipate seeing Juan. I look around, half hoping that his opponent hasn’t shown up and that they’re searching the audience for a replacement. I ready myself for the announcement, judging how long it would take me to shoot my arm in the air.

  “Are you okay? You just got very jittery.” Julia places her hand on my shoulder and I jump back in response.

  “Uh, yah, it’s just…” I stop, not really knowing how to explain myself.

  “Listen, Caroline.” She interrupts me, to which I’m very grateful. “I don’t think Johnny would be happy if he found out you were here by yourself.”

  “I’m not here by myself.” I coyly smile. “I’m here with you.”

  She gives me a look,probably the same one I would’ve given someone who had just said what I had said.

  So I recant. “I’m sure he wouldn’t be happy, which is why I haven’t told him.”

  “Right, but…” She interjects, but I keep going.

  “I also haven’t told him because he has no right to know. I work for him. That’s all.”

  And then she hugs me. It’s weird. And yet, not, which actually makes it weirder. So I hug her back.

  “Don’t hurt him. Please.” She whispers. “Because you,” she says, looking straight into my eyes, “you could hurt him.”

  Jules offers nothing more than that, but there’s a look in her eyes that tells me she’s thinking more than she’s willing to say. Normally, I’d make her spill, but my attention has turned back to the ring. Juan has entered, in his usual fashion: hood up, head down. The crowd roars with cheer the instant he approaches the center of the room. My heart begins to race and my hands begin to sweat. I visualize my revenge, and it’s almost too sweet. One day, I will take him down. One day… soon.

  “Who is that?” I hear Jules question over the swell of howls.

  My face twists into a half smile, and with a devilish stare, I simply answer, “That’s Juan. He has no idea what is coming to him.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  I was ready.

  I got my sleep.

  I ate breakfast.

  I researched.

  I watched online videos.

  I stretched.

  I got to the underground fight club early enough to put my name in for the amateur matches.

  I just didn’t suspect that he would be there.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I know that voice. I know it so well.

  I flip around, coming face to face (only because I know to look up) with my very own Welsh protector, Johnny Braylock.

  I don’t answer him; I instead ask my own question. “Why are you here, Johnny?”

  “To stop you from doing something stupid.” He fires back at me.

  “Your sister told you?” I knew she would, and yet, I still had hope that she would let me do this on my own.

  “Jules was only concerned with your safety.” He defends. “Unlike you, it seems.”

  He puts his hands on my shoulder, but I quickly push him off.

  “No.” It’s all I say.

  “Let’s go.” He tries to lead the way, but I don’t follow.

  “I said, no, Johnny. I’m not going with you. I’m staying right here, and I’m fighting.”

  “The hell you are.” His voice bellows, but I don’t shudder.

  “You have no right to tell me what to do. You do understand that right?” I begin to speak to him as if he’s a stubborn child. “And besides, I’m ready for this.”

  He shakes his head as he brushes his hair back with his fingers. His scowl is matched by the glare of his dark eyes.

  “I’m taking you home, Caroline.”

  I almost laugh at his ridiculous sense of power. “Why would I come with you?”

  “Because I’m telling you to, kid.”

  “That’s it.” I throw my arms up in the air, outraged that he has yet again called me a ‘kid’. “I’ve absolutely had it with you.”

  But I don’t get to walk away. His hands are locked around my wrists and he pulls me into his chest.

  His breath picks up as he stares into my eyes. Along with my training and preparation, the pure anger that is spilling through my veins makes me prime to fight, and if he doesn’t watch himself, the fight will be with him.

  “Move, Johnny.” I snarl.

  He shakes his head, certain his way is gold.

  “I can take care of myself now. And yet everyday you seem to grow more and more protective over me. Why are you so scared to let go?”

  There’s an unexpected change in him. Suddenly, I see something completely different. He’s not the power-hungry, domineering, dream-stealing God he was only a minute ago. Now he’s just the boy… the boy that was in my bedroom telling me about his hopes and fears and vegetable preferences.

  He closes his eyes. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Caroline.”

  I want to tell him that it’s too late, he already hurt me. I want to tell him he’s a fool for screwing up something that could have been awesome. I want to tell him that I very well could have fallen in love with him.

  But, of course, I don’t tell him any of that.

  Instead, I say, “You gave up that right too.”

  I pull from his grip, but it’s not that difficult, as he has already released me. I know what I said hurt, but I don’t care. He deserved to hear it.

  My name is called. I take a breath, and step up to the ring.

  I’ve never been a violent person, yet, in this moment, I can’t stop swinging my fists. The adrenaline rushing through my body is more than I truly think I can handle, but still, I crave more. I push her back a few steps as my knee comes up and strikes her right under her ribs.

  But she doesn’t back down; she doesn’t even take a breath. She comes at me, pushing her full body weight into my torso, and lifting my feet from the ground. I must have blacked out for a brief second, because now I am on the floor, looking to the ceiling, and the girl in a white sports bra and tiny black shorts is on top of me. I hear cries and screams circling from all around me, telling me, and shrieking at me to flip her over. I have to find a way to get on top.

  I tell my body what needs to happen, but it refuses to respond to my demands. It’s the third and final round, I am spent. I wrap my legs around her waist, and my arms swing around her neck. She tries to shake me off, but this hold, I can do. She’s strong, and definitely bigger than I am, but if I’ve learned anything up until this moment, it’s that size doesn’t matter when it comes to this type of fighting. She pushes back, rolling onto her feet. I’m sure she believes that if she stands, I will lose my grip and fall from her height.

  But I don’t.

  Instead, I tighten my hold around her shoulders, and use every ounce of power I can muster to twist her around. I see the shock in her eyes as her body contorts to my commands. I use that very shock to quickly lower my feet to the ground, and I wrap my leg around the back of her knee, destabilizing her stance. At the same time, I jump in the air, bringing my weight back down directly onto her shoulders.

  She’s now the one on the ground, and I swiftly land on top of her. I throw my fists at her face, praying desperately that she loses consciousness, but she holds on for dear life. I feel her trying to buck beneath me, attempting to kick me from my hold on her hips, but I wrap my calves around her thighs for added support. My swings quicken as her blood splashes across my cheek.

  I’m not at all fazed, I just keep on fighting. I battle my urge to wrap my gloved hands around her throat. I see her waning, it would be just too easy to finish her off, as a loss of consciousness would surely secure me the win, but strangling is one of the few things in this match that is against the rules. So I decide against it.

  I know Johnny is close. I can feel his eyes on me. Although I hate to admit it, I’m so glad he’s here. I’m glad he’s looking out for me. I’m glad I’m not alone.

  I guess this is that hour of the day when I don’t hate him.

  Okay, maybe it�
�s more than one hour…

  I lost focus and now I’ve returned to my back, staring up at the ceiling. I feel the wind get knocked from my body as she slams her shin into my stomach, and steadfastly keeps it there, while I wriggle in pain. I see what she’s about to do as her hand slides under my shoulder, I quickly devise a plan to escape from her joint lock. I twist into her palm, pushing against the way she needs me to go to complete her hold. It is now my blood smeared across my own face as I violently swing from side to side, grasping for the momentum to break free. I clench my core and roll on top of her outstretched arm, forcing her elbow to bend the way it’s not meant to bend.

  I’m up. I hear him yell, telling me to get back into the fight, but I just need a minute.

  He’s still yelling.

  My body feels numb and the metallic taste of blood in my mouth is getting old.

  He’s still yelling.

  I need a minute. I need to not be dizzy. I need to not taste blood. I need to…