He wore all dark colors; his hair was a little longer, not as short as he wore it that summer. He seemed to have bulked up a little more. Hard to tell with the leather jacket he wore how much was muscle and how much material. The lines of his face were sharper, more pronounced. When he stepped forward into the light, I could see him clearer. There was a new cut over his left eye on his eyebrow, but it didn’t detract from his exceptional looks. It made it even better. But it was his eyes, those eyes. The gray of the clouds, just before lightning struck. I remembered that color. Did I think Dante the more beautiful of the two? I changed my mind. Yes, Dante’s skin was flawless, but Maze’s was the face of a man who’d seen struggle and was still standing. The difference between an angel who played a harp up on a cloud and one that marched into battle.
I shook my head, trying to clear the distractions out of it to reply like I was an educated person to Maze’s question. Afterward, he led me into the restaurant. I remember suddenly sitting, not remembering the walk to the table. I know we sat there long enough for the waiter to approach us twice and still neither of us had picked up a menu, nor had we said a word. All we could do was stare. Drinking the other in.
Finally, Maze leaned forward. “I’ve missed you.”
I held my hands entwined in my lap, but I raised them and placed them on the table leaning forward, too. “I missed you, too.”
He raised both hands and covered my own. His hands felt larger, stronger than I remembered them. But electricity zinged between us again, my gaze went from our joined hands to stare into the burning gaze of Maze. The connection was still there, flaring between us, and he felt it, too. This time when the waiter approached the table, Maze glanced over at him then back at me. “Do you need time to look at the menu?” Maze asked.
“No.” I glanced at the waiter and smiled; I’d eaten here many times and already knew what I wanted. “I’ll have a cheeseburger medium rare no fries, coleslaw and just water’s fine.”
Without taking his gaze from me, Maze said to the waiter, “The same.” He had yet to let go my hands. He just raised his elbow so the waiter could grab the menus trapped under his arms, then the waiter disappeared.
“I’m sorry,” Maze said.
I almost asked him for what, but I knew. We lost touch with each other, faith, as much his fault as mine. At the time I pushed him away. A necessity, he was leaving me anyway. And yet, here we were. The feelings were still there. The electricity crisscrossed between our joined hands. The blood rushed through my system as though I was ready to step on stage and perform twenty fouettes, turns where I stand first flat then on point with one foot while the other leg is raised but bent at the knee, and making quarter circles with each turn. A heady feeling indeed.
“I’m sorry, too,” I said, and squeezed his hand.
He sighed. “Believe me please when I say I had no choice at the time, and really neither did you. I understand.”
I thought perhaps he did understand. The fact that he’d taken the time to track me down wasn’t lost on me. What did it mean? I wanted to ask, but while the connection between us was still there, I didn’t know him well enough to ask. So I thought to start with the obvious. “How have you been?”
Chapter Nine
Maze
Such a simple question. Yet the answer was so complex. I knew from the time I sat in the theater it wouldn’t have been enough to just sit there and watch her dance. I had to see her, feel her near me, touch her again. Now it was so much worse than I’d imagined. I never wanted to let her go again. All these years, yeah I’d been living my life, going through the motions, but an important part of me wasn’t there. She’d held on to it. I released one hand to rake it through my hair, but I left the other one to enclose hers. I couldn’t seem to stop touching her. She was as soft as I’d remembered; nothing about her had been my imagination. If anything, my memory and my pictures failed to do her justice, or perhaps she just became more beautiful as she aged. But I had to be careful, more so than ever before. I would not allow the harshness of my life to touch my beautiful firebird. I always thought of her that way. In fact, I even owned a poster I had framed of her doing that very leap in a performance. It had been the same one she’d done on the beach.
“I’ve been good,” I finally responded. Simple was always best.
“Did you ever reach the level in your sport you wanted to?” Ivy asked.
“Yeah, I did.” I had never lost a fight. And what I did wouldn’t always be considered a sport. At least not approved by any legitimate government or organization. Yeah there were rules. You fought until your opponent was knocked out, tapped out, or on occasion maimed, then you stepped back. I’d fought bare fisted and bare feet, and with an assortment of weapons. Accidents happened, but so far, I’d never been in a fight where anyone died. At least not while in the arena. There’d been rumors of deaths afterward. But each fighter who walked into the ring understood and accepted the risk. Some people jumped out of planes or hung off the sides of mountains for kicks, pitting their lives against their skills. I did the same. I was the best at what I did, but even the best had to fall sometime. Which was why I was willing to do this last fight, win or lose it would be my last. I was determined about that, the sport was too tied up with the Triads and other such organizations. And if I won it would be the largest payday ever. But I was asked to do something that went against everything in me, to throw the fight. Lose to save Joe, he was the only reason I considered it, but I also understood if I agreed, the Triad would then own me but Joe would be free.
“I’m glad. So we both got what we wanted,” Ivy said, drawing me back into the moment.
I smiled. “You are a beautiful ballerina, but then you always were.”
Ivy smiled. “You saw the show?”
“Yes. I’ve never seen anything like it. I always thought when you leaped you looked like you could fly.”
“Thank you. I would like to see you fight sometime.”
A chill wove its way down my spine. I remembered the only time she’d ever seen me fight. I can still pull up a mental image of the look of shock and fear on her face. I would do all I could not to see that again. That fight was nothing compared to the way I fought now. No, she could never see me fight.
The waiter appeared with our food and I finally released her hand and sat back picking up the fork. She told me about her life in New York and the auditions, her climb to the top. I was so damn proud of her and I told her so. Then she began to ask more questions about my life. I had to tell her something, so I told her about some of the good things. There had been good. I told her about my step-dad Joe, how he trained me and I won and moved up within the ranks, but I got noticed too. Noticed by the people who Joe worked for to the point they required my presence and involvement in Triad business.
“So are you in town for a fight?” she asked, after the waiter had come and removed our dishes.
I hesitated. I didn’t want to lie to her. The kind of fighting I did was not going to appear on any TV specials, and not much on the news either. Not in the U.S. This was all under the radar and invitational only. The winner of the purse in about a month walked away with five million big ones. Enough for me to retire on, but it wasn’t meant to be. Those bastards wanted me to throw any chance of that for a quarter of the payday, but Joe would get his freedom. My servitude would begin. I guess I had made up my mind. I sighed when I realized I’d been quiet a little too long. I took Ivy’s hand and kissed it. Her taste went straight to my dick. “Yes, I’m here for a fight.”
“Wow, where is it going to be? I’d love to go and see it if I can. When is it?”
“The twenty-sixth of next month.” I could not believe I gave her even that detail. Didn’t matter, she wouldn’t be attending.
It was her turn to sigh. “I have a performance that day. It’s a matinee show.”
“That’s too bad.” I wasn’t going to tell her, the odds were good her show would be over by the time the fight started.
“Maybe next time. So are you in town until the fight?”
I might be in town longer than that. “Yes and maybe a little longer, I’m moving back to the States, at least for awhile.”
The look of joy that covered her face had me smiling in reply. I was living in a fantasy land. No matter where I resided I had to keep my distance, but that was for later. Tonight was for us.
“That’s fantastic.”
The waiter came over and asked us if we wanted dessert. I glanced at Ivy. I didn’t want anything, just to be with her, but it was her call.
She shook her head. “Can we get out of here and just walk a bit?”
“That works for me.” I paid the bill and then holding her hand we left and walked down Broadway, joining the throng of foot traffic.
“Thank you for dinner and for inviting me.” She placed the hand I didn’t already hold on my arm.
“You’re welcome.”
“I love to walk as much as I can,” she said.
I shrugged. “Then let’s.”
I can’t remember the last time I just ambled aimlessly down a crowded sidewalk. We even stopped and shared a hot cinnamon pretzel I bought off a street truck. We explored a couple of tourist trap stores and talked, enjoying the night and each other’s company. About an hour later I knew we were no longer alone in a sea of strangers. I’d been getting weird vibes, and I trusted my instincts. Someone was following us, probably following me. In the crowd, it was difficult for me to tell who it was. Perhaps it was time to take Ivy home. God I didn’t want to, I wanted to take her home with me. If I was being followed, and it was possible the Triad wanted to keep an eye on me, so the less anyone knew about Ivy and how much she meant to me the better. “It’s getting late,” I said.
She smiled. “Is it past your bedtime?”
I laughed. God I don’t remember the last time I’d laughed a full on belly laugh like that. Triumphs and successes had been a part of my life, even some joy, but happiness, laughter like this. Not for years. “Something like that,” I told her.
I stopped, stepped over to the curb and flagged down a cab. It pulled up and I opened the door. Ivy got in and I bent down, I hadn’t planned on kissing her yet I found myself taking her face in my hands and covering her mouth with mine. Her touch punched me to my soul. Her lips parted and I needed no further invitation. Shit! Her taste was both familiar, yet different. The sound of the cab driver saying he started the meter had me pulling back. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Promise,” she whispered.
“Breakfast.”
She nodded. “See you then.”
I stepped back from the cab and shut the door. I wanted to stand there and watch the taxi drive out of sight but didn’t dare. I didn’t want my shadow to think the girl meant anything more to me than ass. I turned and walked down another block, at first I was going to just go home, but then thought better of it. The less I made about being out with this girl the less likely she’d come under the radar of the ones following me. I suspected it was a member of the Triad. Joe warned me this might happen, and I’d have to be careful. I took a cab over to a club one of the other fighters had been talking about, paid my fee and went in. After I got a beer at the bar, I took a long drink of it. I felt eyes on me, but these weren’t the guy who’d been following me. I looked toward the end of the bar and it was a redhead and her blonde friend checking me out. I had a part to play and play it I would. I walked over to them and asked the redhead to dance. She placed her beer on the counter and I rested mine next to hers and followed her out onto the dance floor.
We danced a few dances, then I wanted to just stop and go home and process everything I’d learned about Ivy tonight. All I wanted to do was think about her. But I couldn’t. Not yet. So I returned to the bar with the redhead and ordered us both another round of beers. At this point I sat on a stool and she was basically riding my leg. There would have been a time I would have been all up in that. Not so much tonight. I began to feel eyes on me again, a familiar sensation crawled down my spine. I pulled Layla or Lyla, I couldn’t remember which the fuck it was, toward me and nuzzled her neck, while I gazed over the crowd to see who was paying more attention than they should. Bingo! I spotted him. Asian dude toward the back, his stance told me he was a fighter, he seemed familiar but I couldn’t really see him clearly in the shadows.
“Hold on, babe,” I said to the chick. “I have to take a leak.”
“Hurry back. I’ll save your seat.” She hopped onto the stool when I got off.
I made my way where I’d seen the restroom signs, the guy I’d seen watching me wasn’t in that part of the club nor could he see me unless he moved. If it was the guy I spotted, he’d be keeping an eye on my movements and move with me. As soon as I entered the archway where the restrooms were, I used my peripheral to watch out for the dude. I didn’t dare move my head for him to know I spotted him. Sure enough there he was. I walked down the hallway past the line for the lady’s bathroom, the men’s was a little farther down. The arrow in the hall pointed to the door on the right, and there was no line there. I turned and pushed the door open and as I did, I kept my head down but glanced in the direction of the main area, sure enough Asian dude leaned against the edge of the wall like he was waiting for a chick to finish. Yeah right. Fuck. I was being tailed and damned I’d met the guy before. Triad.
Only one thing left to do. After I used the rest room, I went back out to the bar walked right past the Asian dude who’d moved farther into the shadows of the club trying to make sure I didn’t see his face, but I already had and knew where he was. I went over to Lyla/Layla and whispered in her ear. I asked her if she’d like to share a cab back to her place. She asked me to give her a minute to let her friend know we were leaving, then she walked out of there with me.
We went down to the corner and caught a cab. As it passed the club I saw the dude step out of the club as the cab drove past. I had the cab driver drop the chick off, who was not happy when I told her goodnight. I knew she was pissed because she slammed the taxi door so hard I thought she’d break the frame. Then I went home.
I stripped down to nothing while watching the poster I’d hung over my headboard. Getting a bit of a hard on thinking about tonight. I crawled into bed and checked the time on my phone. I rubbed my chest with the edge of the phone, for some reason it hurt a little tonight. Two a.m. Too late to call Ivy. I didn’t really care, I texted her anyway. She’d read it when she got up.
Me: ‘I’ll be there at 8. I just need the address.’
A reply came back almost immediately and I smiled after reading it, it was her address.
Me: ‘Did I wake you?’
Ivy: ‘Yes, but wasn’t really sleeping.’
Me: ‘Why?’
Ivy: ‘Excited.’
Me: ‘Me too. See you in the morning.’
Ivy: ‘Nite. XXX’
I put my phone on my nightstand and closed my eyes. My last thought, she was closer than she’d ever been, and yet there still might as well have been an ocean between us.
Chapter Ten
Ivy
By the time the buzzer downstairs went off, I had been awake for the last hour and a half. I’d gotten dressed twenty minutes ago and had two cups of tea already. I was that excited and anxious. Maze. Freaking Maze. The one boy I regretted. The one who both repelled and attracted at the same time. He was still beautiful to look at but the exterior was hard, too. And I never forgot the fight that night, the raw brutality of it. Scared the shit outta me and excited me at the same time. I’d never seen anything like it since. And even though I asked him if I could see him fight, I was kinda glad I couldn’t because I’d be dancing then. I was sure it would have the same affect on me, like Maze, both a sense of exciting and repelling at the same time.
Yet in spite of all of that, the attraction between us was still there, and still strong. I got to the control panel and answered the door. “Yes.” Can’t be too careful, this was New York.
“It’s Maze.”
I’d know that husky voice anywhere. I opened the outside door for him and stepped back. I returned to my room to grab my purse and add a little lip gloss, then went back out to the main room to get a coat out of the hall closet. I turned and tossed the coat on the couch but glanced up, Dante stepped out of his room, at least he had sweats on. He’d been known to walk outta there buck nekked a time a two. The man had no shame. It helped that he had a banging body. Although once he understood there would only ever be friendship between us, he hadn’t gone in his natural state around me again.
“Who’s at the door?” he asked, then yawned.
“Go back to bed. It’s for me.” Of course he didn’t pay me any attention; I hadn’t seen him since last night so I could catch him up. He’d still been out when I got home. It had been several months since I’d gone on a date and never this early in the morning. In fact, Dante was well aware I never had a man sleep over, nor did I sleep out. He yawned while he made his way over to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee, just as the bell sounded at the front door.
I glanced in his direction and frowned. “Be nice. It’s Maze, he’s taking me out for breakfast.”
He’d just taken a sip from his cup but spilled the hot liquid over his bare chest at my announcement. I opened the door; sure Maze could hear Dante cussing up a storm in the kitchen. The smile that had graced Maze’s face turned into a frown once he realized I was not alone when he stepped into the foyer and he spied the half naked man making himself at home in my kitchen.
One night Dante and I had gotten drunk and told each other something personal. I told him about Shelly’s death and how I blamed myself and about Maze and how part of me blamed him, too. So I pushed him away, but it was easy to do because he’d left the country. Still Maze hadn’t tried very hard to stay connected either. Until now. Or was he just visiting while he was in town and that’s all there would be?
The Ballerina & The Fighter (Book 1) Page 6