by Melissa Good
Kerry almost felt the change, and she turned her head to see a dark, still expression on her lover’s face. She quickly shifted the pans off the stove, walked over, and put a hand on Dar’s belly. “Hey?” she mouthed.
Dar tucked a hand behind Kerry’s neck and pulled her close. “All right.” She spoke quietly into the phone. “Next Friday. I’ll be there.” A pause. “Goodbye.” She set the phone down with deliberate precision and exhaled.
“Who on earth was that?” Kerry whispered. “From your face, I thought it was my father.”
“Worse,” Dar answered, with a sigh. “It was my mother.”
Kerry looked up at her. “Whoa. That was unexpected.”
“Yeah.” The blue eyes focused on something Kerry wasn’t sure she wanted to be able to see.
Chapter
Six
KERRY FINISHED PACKING a small towel in the gym bag Dar habitually carried, then zipped the bag closed and walked to the double doors, regarding the tall, silent figure leaning against the railing.
Dar was upset and shocked. Kerry could tell. Hearing from her mother was difficult, but finding out it was due to the passing of her grandmother was even worse. After not hearing from that side of her family for such a long time, getting news like that was tough and knowing she’d have to go and face being with those people next week was eating at her.
Kerry pushed the door open and walked outside into the warm sea breeze. “You ready, champ?”
Dar turned her head and adjusted her sunglasses, pulling them down a little to regard Kerry’s face. “I think my focus is off,” she told her regretfully. “I wasn’t expecting that. Even though I haven’t seen Gran in…” Dar thought a moment. “Damn. Has it been ten years?” She exhaled. “She was a…a very tough woman.”
“Mmm.” Kerry put an arm around her. “I’m sorry, Dar. I don’t remember my grandparents. They died when I was very young.” She considered that. “I wish I had. My uncles tell some really great stories about them.”
Dar leaned against her. “I never knew my father’s parents. When he and my mother got married, they disowned him, sort of. The only one who spoke to him at all was Aunt May.” She exhaled. “Then there was Gran and Grandpa. He and my father argued all the time, but I think they liked each other. He died in a car accident, and Gran wasn’t the same after that.”
Kerry pursed her lips, then forged on. “Dar. You know, um, maybe your mother…maybe she’s using this as a sort of excuse to get back in touch with you.”
Her lover went quite still for a few heartbeats, then straightened and pushed her sunglasses back. “I think it’s too late for that,” she answered briskly. “C’mon. I got myself into this contest. Let’s go watch me make a fool of myself.”
Kerry took the hint and dropped the subject. “I bet you don’t.” She followed Dar inside. “Remember, you promised me a trophy.”
Eye of the Storm 49
“Aw, Kerry.”
“You promised.”
I PROMISED. DAR leaned against her locker, surprised at just how nervous she was. What in the hell was I thinking? I’ll be lucky to last the first damn round. She scrubbed her face with both hands, then dropped them, shaking her arms to loosen the tight muscles brought on by the sudden stress.
Okay.
Dar closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she forced calm on herself. Too many outside distractions were hitting her, and she knew if she didn’t just push them out of the way, she wasn’t going to be able to go out there, or worse, she would and get hurt because she lost focus.
So, okay. Forget about your mother. Forget about the asshole board member.
Forget about Kerry’s testifying.
Forget about Gran.
Damn. Dar’s eyes opened and she gazed at the wooden surface. Wish I’d said goodbye to her.
“You need to find a nice boy and settle down, honey.” Gran’s eyes had twinkled at her, as she stood uncomfortably in Gran’s small house. “Come here and sit down and tell me what you’ve been up to.”
Dar settled her long frame awkwardly on the frilly chair next to the old woman and tried to come up with something she’d find interesting to hear.
Programming? Gran had a radio, and a TV she never turned on, preferring to use it as a shelf to hold a beautiful creeping ivy. School? Gran had been self schooled. Personal stuff? Dar had just figured out she preferred girls to boys, and doubted Gran would appreciate hearing that. “Same as usual, Gran. Just stuff.”
“Oh, come on now. You telling me a nice looking young girl like you just sits around all day? What do you do with yourself, Paladar?”
“Um, work with my computer, do my gym stuff. You know,” Dar answered. “I go to school, I go to work. Not much to tell, really.”
Gran looked at her. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No.” That, at least, she could answer.
Her grandmother leaned much closer and lowered her voice. “Do you have a girlfriend?” she whispered with a wink.
Dar almost swallowed her tongue. “Uhh...no.” Her voice rose to almost a squeak. “I um...”
“Ha. Didn’t think old grumps like me know what’s what, eh?” Gran poked her in the knee. “Figured you out years ago. Had a best friend when I was a girl went the same way.”
She turned brick red, and endured the old woman’s chuckles until she finally cleared her throat and muttered something banal.
“What’d the folks say?” Gran asked conspiratorially.
50 Melissa Good
“They don’t know,” Dar managed to answer. “Yet.”
That made Gran laugh even more. “Figures. My daughter never could see the darn forest for the trees.” She patted Dar on the arm. “Don’t you worry, honey. I won’t say anything. You just be careful now, here? Chicken fights can be a lot nastier than cock fights, let me tell you. They’ll peck your eyes right out, and you’ve got really pretty ones.”
Dar blushed again. “Thanks, Gran,” she muttered.
“Here. Stop putting your head down.” Gran picked her chin up and looked at her. “You got nothing to be ashamed of, Paladar, so you keep those baby blues up just like that.” She paused. “Oh. You’re going to break some hearts, you are.”
Dar managed a smile. “Think so?”
A wrinkled hand patted her cheek. “Keep smiling like that and I guarantee it.”
Dar found herself smiling again in reflex memory and she wished briefly that her mother hadn’t gone to live with Gran. That, more than anything, had kept her from calling and certainly from visiting.
And that hadn’t really been fair to either of them.
“Hey, Dar?”
She turned to find Kerry slipping through the locker room door.
“Sorry. I was just loosening up.”
Kerry came over and slid up against her with a barely held back smile. “Your dad’s here.”
“Urk.” Dar’s nostrils flared. “Like I needed more pressure.”
“Tch.” The blonde woman gave her a much needed hug. “He’s lurking back under the seats. I got him some pop and a candy bar.”
“I think I need a candy bar or maybe some ice cream.”
Green eyes twinkled. “Trade you a trophy for a cone, how about that?”
Dar turned, and put her hands on Kerry’s shoulders, her face taking on a serious expression. “Listen—”
Fingertips touched her lips. “No. I was just kidding. I don’t care if you win anything at all, Dar. Just have fun and don’t worry about it.” She pulled Dar’s head down and kissed her. “Okay?”
“Just have fun?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Dar returned the kiss and let some of the tension roll off her.
“I think I can manage that.” Her nerves settled and she considered the contest. Without question, there’d be some fighters she could beat, and equally, some she couldn’t. That was all right. She’d just do the best she could, that was all.
“C’mon.�
� She put an arm around Kerry’s shoulders and guided her out of the locker room, into the main area of the gym. A wide open space had been cleared, covered with mats, and some rows of chairs added around it with platforms after a few rows to raise the seats up into viewing areas.
Eye of the Storm 51
People dressed like her were all around, warming up and chatting in small groups, or standing alone in fierce concentration. They ranged in age from teens to middle-aged men and women, and Dar felt a little more comfortable, realizing she wouldn’t be the oldest person in the room by any means.
Her eyes flicked around and into corners and found a dark one, with a shadowy form in it. She kept her gaze pinned there, and smiled, holding it until she saw a flash of motion and a hand wave. She waved back.
“This is sort of fun,” Kerry remarked. “Hey. Did you know they have a novice class tournament too? You think maybe I could take a shot next time?”
Hmm. Dar mulled that over. Good question. “I don’t know. I think you’re too nice,” she confessed. “You’re not supposed to apologize every time you hit someone.”
Kerry grinned ruefully. “Hitting people doesn’t quite come naturally to me, I guess. But I’ve been getting better. I didn’t scream the last time I flipped you.”
Dar rubbed her tailbone in memory. “You grunted. A definite improvement.”
They walked to the warm up area and Dar released her lover as she joined the group of combatants already working there. “Wish me luck.”
Kerry smiled and tugged her belt. “You won’t need it.” She backed off. “I’m going to go sit down over there.” She pointed at the bleachers.
Dar lifted a hand and watched her go, then turned her attention to the task at hand. After about twenty minutes of light warm up, a man walked to the center of the mats and lifted a bullhorn.
“All right ladies and gents. Let’s get rrrrroollling.”
The exercises paused as all eyes turned towards him.
“We’ll do this the easy way. Double elimination, one ring for the pros, one ring for the kiddies, the judges picked the matches out of a hat.
See the nice lady with the pink shirt to get your slots and stay the heck out of the way until it’s your turn. Everybody got it?”
A chorus of yells.
“Good! Let’s kick some ass.”
Kerry found a nice bench and sat down, resting her elbows on her knees. This was definitely different. The closest she’d ever come to this kind of atmosphere was during her high school bowling days.
“Hey there, kumquat.” A low, growly voice made her jump, and she looked down between the bleachers to see Andrew Roberts perched under them, peering out between the seats with interest. “Looks like a damn bathrobe convention, don’t it?”
“It’s…unique,” Kerry agreed, as she watched some of the younger contestants run at each other screaming.
Andrew grunted, his head moving back and forth inside his hood as he observed. “My kid looks damned good, you know that?”
Kerry obligingly turned to the tall, dark haired form running through a few basic warm-up drills while she waited. “Does she? I mean, 52 Melissa Good well, yeah, I think she does anyway, but...”
“Yeap.” Dar’s father nodded. “Lookit that kick. I couldn’t get that high when I was getting paid for it.”
“She’s very flexible,” Kerry agreed.
“Huh.” Andrew chuckled, deep in his throat. “You’d know.”
Kerry stared at him in puzzlement, then blushed. “Oh, god.” She was saved by the bell, literally, and she turned to watch the first set of matches.
She really hoped Dar did well.
After all, she had a bet on with Andrew about that trophy.
DAR’S FIRST MATCH was the third one listed. She spent a moment wishing she were somewhere else just before she had to pad onto the mat and spent another moment hoping she didn’t throw up before she got there.
It was really ludicrous, goddamn it, she was an internationally known corporate CIO, who ate company managers for lunch, and here she stood, worrying about upchucking in front of a boisterous Saturday afternoon crowd at the local gym.
Shit.
Dar glared at her opponent in pure annoyance, a man slightly her junior, with a sturdy, well knit body and intelligent eyes.
Which widened a little as they met hers. Dar could only wonder what her expression looked like, before the whistle blew and they circled each other. He dodged towards her and she blocked him, feeling the nervous energy make her reactions sharp and almost edgy. He tried again, and she evaded the kick, countering with one of her own that, with help from her longer legs, connected and turned him halfway around and almost dumped him.
Okay. Dar flexed her hands, and watched him, feeling her heartbeat settle a little. She tried a little feint of her own, then realized it was going to work and followed through, neatly sweeping her opponent off his feet and taking advantage of that.
One fall down.
Hmm. Dar watched him dust himself off and face her, seeing something in his eyes that sent a shot of adrenaline right through her.
Now, intimidation…that she recognized and her aggressive instincts flared as she swept in again, this time with more assurance, letting the watching crowd fade out as she dropped him a second time.
The whistle blew a minute later and she stepped back, clearing the mat for the next match, feeling a little surprised and a lot less nauseous.
She snuck a look at Kerry and found a grin waiting for her, along with a little wink.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“She did okay, right?” Kerry whispered.
“Damn straight.” Andrew had his chin almost resting on the step her Eye of the Storm 53
feet were on. “Knocked that silly assed punk right on his keester. That’s my girl.”
Kerry muffled a chuckle. “You are so cute.”
One blue eye edged around the corner of his hood and pierced her.
“’Scuse me there, young lady. Watch yer mouth.” He growled. “I am not having no little kumquats calling me stuff like that.”
“Ah. I see where she gets that, too.” Kerry grinned and turned her attention back to her lover, who was getting a drink of water from the blue neoprene thermos she habitually carried.
Dar’s eyes were a little brighter now, she noticed, and she seemed looser and more relaxed. She was talking with Ken, who had finished his own bout just prior to hers, and watched the action.
Kerry wondered if she realized just how many people were actually watching her, instead of the matches. She kinda hoped she didn’t. At least until it was over.
“Who you got next?” Ken craned his neck to peer at the small piece of paper Dar had. “Oh. Nice slate.” He nodded. “They’re all pretty decent fighters. I got lucky with mine. The first three of ’em are strictly hacks.”
“Mmm.” Dar tucked the paper away and took another sip of water.
She watched the match in progress, and replayed her last one with a sense of mild satisfaction.
Her next match was an easy one, then the third was a little harder, her opponent a tough, determined woman with a permanent scowl and a feisty attitude that almost made Dar want to offer her a job. The woman used her smaller size to get inside Dar’s defenses, but found out, a little too late, that it was a mistake to get caught by the taller woman’s powerful grip.
Dar wiped the back of her neck with her towel, clearing the sweat a little, and glanced at the board, where a perky scorekeeper was moving names around. Hers was in one of the upper tiers, and she felt a sense of satisfaction at her accomplishment so far. Six matches and she’d won half. That was not too goddamned bad for someone who’d been out of competition for as long as she had and Dar knew she had every right to be completely happy if she lost every single one of her remaining three matches.
Her name was called for her fourth match. She put her thermos down and flexed her fingers as she re-entered the circle sketc
hed on the mats. This time, her opponent was an older man, with the hard eyes and callused hands of an instructor, and her pulse picked up as her now warmed up body scented a challenge.
He eyed her coolly, intent on intimidating, and received a dazzling smile in return, which made him blink in surprise just before he was caught in a combination move that knocked him backwards almost onto his butt.
“Son of a bitch,” he blurted.
Dar patted her chest. “Nope. Wrong gender and don’t you be calling my daddy names like that.” She roundhouse kicked him and sent him fly-54 Melissa Good ing out side the circle with a thud as he hit the mat. He got back up and they circled each other, trading feints and jabs.
Weeks of pushing herself and weeks of sharpening rusting skills now came to bear as Dar loosened up and tried some more advanced moves, which she hadn’t bothered with in her earlier matches. Her opponent countered one, then backed off a little, apparently realizing the skill level facing him was higher than he’d expected. He tried a counter, and Dar absolutely nailed him with a block and a throw over her shoulder that made his bones audibly rattle.
The whistle blew and she stepped back, noticing the crowd slowly gathering around the mat, as the other bouts ended. Her name moved up a tier, and with a sense of shock, she realized she was positioned to come in no worse than fourth in the competition.
That was great, wasn’t it? Dar was now aware of the growing crowd, most of them watching the match that just started, between a tall, aggressive redhead and a smaller, blonde haired man whose quick style and fluid motion Dar admired. She concentrated on it and was surprised when a voice invaded her close presence, calling her name. She turned.
“Yes?”
It was the match coordinator, in all her pink glory. “I’m sorry…you’re Roberts?”
“Yeah. What’s wrong?” Dar turned and faced the blonde woman.
“Did I step outside the circle or something?”
“Oh. No, no.” Pinky shook her head. “No. The guy you were supposed to fight next just sprained his ankle.” She made a mark on the sheet. “He forfeited, so you got that one. So you’ve only got the one match left.” She looked up. “Whoever wins this one. So don’t wander off.”