by Emilia Finn
They had me trusting them from the moment I met them, even leaving her with them to run upstairs to fire my useless babysitter.
A special kind of madness overcame me that day, because I would never have left her with anyone else, but somehow I just knew, they were good people.
I wasn’t wrong.
“You won’t hurt me, will you honey?” Jack asks Evie again and she shakes her head immediately.
“No, Jacky. I wuv you.”
“I wuv you too, baby.”
Thirteen
Aiden
Sending Kit to war
We form our convoy, driving down our road and stopping at the gates so Bobby can buzz them open since he’s in front.
I fix my hat low over my eyes, feeling fidgety, unsettled, for about six million different reasons.
I’m not feeling my sharpest today since I slept about an hour total.
I left Tina and Evie in bed. No matter how bad I wanted to stay, I worried she might feel awkward if I stayed the whole night. It’s not like she invited me to sleep in the same bed as her and her daughter.
I watched over them for a couple hours, studying Tina’s features, finally unguarded, letting me in. I studied her purpling bruised forehead, wishing I could kiss it better and make it go away.
I played with her hair as I listened to her breathe deeply. I studied the shape of the very lips I got to taste this morning.
And I planned.
I planned my next step.
Eventually I left them and I jogged across the street where I switched my old computer on and started googling.
Sean Frankston has a lot of web pages and mentions. A lot of them highlight his legitimate businesses, their multi billions of dollars of income.
Fucker is already rich, he doesn’t need to kill and sell sex and drugs to get more money. But he does, because he’s greedy, or maybe he’s just twisted.
Beyond the legitimate stuff, there was page after page of accusations; drugs, murder, prostitution, women.
Now that I knew what to look for, I even found Tina. Sarah. And the Frankston Princess, Katelyn Frankston.
There’s no mention of either of them being missing, so I guess he kept it quiet.
Keeping the search for them in house.
My blood boils just thinking about it again. That man is looking for my girls, because he likes to acquire, to own, to dominate. He broke her, for a while at least. She can’t take a hit like that again.
I pull my truck in beside Tina’s car, and I laugh to myself when I see Evie waving manically from her seat in the back. She’s strapped in tight, five point harness, but she’s antsy and ready to get out. Ready for her first live fight.
“Hey,” I repeat the same simple greeting from earlier when I open Tina’s door, and I revel in the way her cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink.
She’s not a blatant blusher, not like Kit. Just the faintest tinge. I have to work to see it.
“Hey,” she answers quietly as she places her hand in my outstretched palm.
I pull her out gently, conscious of the fact she basically knocked herself out yesterday, then I set her on her feet.
“Biggie!” Evie calls from her seat, telling me I have about two seconds left before she loses her shit. I lean down quickly, laying a soft kiss on Tina’s closed lips, taking her by surprise, then I leave her floundering and walk around to open Evie’s door.
“I missed you,” Evie says, fighting her restraints, making it harder for me to unclip her. I chuckle at her eagerness. And her words.
“I missed you too, Smalls. You ready to see Kitkat beat someone up?”
“Yes!” She monkeys around my side until she sits on my back. She has the dexterity and grip of a baby chimpanzee.
I meet Tina at the back of her car, then holding Evie with one hand behind my back and under her butt, I tap Tina’s lower back, a kind of noncommittal caress. I want to touch her, but I don’t want her to freak.
“Aww, you guys are cute,” Jack murmurs as we approach the group, quietly enough that only I can hear, so I elbow him in the gut with my noncommittal arm, then I chuckle and walk away while he wheezes and the others laugh at him.
“This is kind of exciting.” Tina’s eyes swing from one end of the gym to the other, looking around at the half full chairs that will be full within an hour, and at the ring in the middle of the room as a couple little kids horse around inside.
This is only another development day fight; not professional, no money exchanging hands, no ranking system. It’s simply people from different gyms looking for a bit of fun and experience.
Kit had to go up a weight division today, since they couldn’t find anyone her weight to fight. She’ll be fighting a chick about thirty pounds heavier than her; not a huge difference, but at the same time, in fighting, it kind of is.
Kit is tall, giving her the extra pounds but spreading them out along her long body, but if her competitor is another thirty heavier, she’s going to be heavy for Kit to move.
Bobby tried to make her quit this one, to try again another time with someone her own weight, but Kit refused to listen, which is why I ended up her trainer.
Bobby was having heart palpitations. He couldn’t handle it.
I lead the girls to the front row seats; they’re not assigned seats and these’ll fill soon. They’re a good spot to see. So I can see them too.
I turn and look at the rest of my family; Jim and Iz and Bean, following close behind. Neither of them are fighting today, so they’re enjoying just being at a fight where they’re not on duty.
Jack fights next week, but he’s not nervous at all. He’s a fucking pro at it now. I’m so proud of the annoying little shit.
Bobby holds Kit against him, his face pale, his body jittery. Poor guy.
The first time she fought, he almost died of a stroke. That was long before she was hurt. I legitimately wonder if he’ll survive today.
She will. She’ll be fine.
But he might need medical help when she gets hit. Which she will. It’s the game we play.
Even if we win, we’re going to get hit.
“You guys sit here.” I turn and wait for Tina to sit, then I grab Evie from my back, scooting her around until she’s on my front. I grab Jack and shove him down into the seat beside Tina, rougher than necessary but he doesn’t care, he just laughs at me. He’s enjoying being a smartass.
“You sit on Jack, Smalls.” I pass Evie gently. “I’ll see you after. I gotta go with Kitkat now.”
“K, seeya,” she says, bouncing in Jacks lap, feeling the excitement in the air, feeding on it.
I look back to Tina one last time, catching her as her head snaps up and she blushes again.
“You good, Peaches?”
“Yeah,” she murmurs softly, ignoring Jacks snickering.
“Alright. See you soon.”
I brush my fingers gently over her collarbone, then her shoulder, brushing her hair to her back and I smile as she shivers softly.
“Let’s go.” I grab Kit, taking her from her husband as he pleads with her to quit and run away with him. She giggles, blowing kisses at him, but she doesn’t fight my hold.
“He’s freaking out so bad,” Kit says, laughing and righting herself, fixing her gym bag on her shoulder since I knocked it down with my rough hands.
“Yeah,” I smile because he’s a sucker. “He might be dead by the time we get back out.”
“Poor Bobby,” she says wistfully, but she’s not rushing back out to soothe him. She’s rushing toward the locker room because she wants this. She wants to fight. She’s eating up the adrenaline in the air.
“You ready for this?”
“Yep,” she answers easily, excitedly.
“You slept?”
“Yep.”
“You ate?”
“Yep, we ate while you and Tina were making out.”
“Think you’re a funny fucker…”
“I’m so stinking excited for
you guys,” she squee’s, bouncing as she walks.
“Cool it, freak. We’re not anything.”
“Yet.”
I bite my smile before Kit makes a big deal about it. Because she’s a chick, and chicks do stupid shit like that. But I nod. “Yet.”
I lead her through the labyrinth of hallways until we find a spare locker room, then I send her to get changed out of her cutoffs and flip flops.
She’s gone only a few minutes, then walks out in her fight shorts and a pink sports bra, bare feet, and a tight braid holding her hair in.
“Good. You look good.” She looks toned, more so than the last time she fought. Additionally, she has a bunch of new scars now that she didn’t have last time she fought.
A long ugly thick scar running straight down the front of her bicep, clear stitch marks noticeable, since it needed such extensive stitching to pull it all back together.
I spin her to study her shoulder, which although now has some pretty awesome ink on it, still noticeably has its scars.
It was reconstructed numerous times, three or four at least, before they decided it was as good as it was going to get.
“How’s it feeling?”
“Good,” she says, smiling and stepping away. “Honestly, it’s fine. Hardly gives me trouble. Short of her literally spinning me and hitting it directly on purpose, it’ll be fine.”
“Good to hear.” I turn to my own gym bag and grab some gloves and mitts out. “Let’s get warmed up.”
We spend the next little while trading shots, soft conditioning, warming her blood and getting her limber.
Kit spends her time checking my legs, ducking my swings, and probably thinking about Bobby.
I spend the time thinking about Tina; about her soft lips on mine this morning. She tasted better than I ever dared to hope. I thought about her legs around me, her hands on me, her hair in my face, her fingers exploring my chest.
I could have taken her there and then. Against the wall. I wanted to. Fuck, I wanted to.
My dick was painfully begging me to lose my pants and sheath myself in her instead. Oh to be inside her, bare backing her even. It would feel amazing, I know it would.
It wouldn’t be my first time with a girl moving so quickly. My previous… relationships, usually meant sex on the first date, simply because I wasn’t interested in good, wholesome girls who expected a second date.
We’d both go into the night knowing what we want; a fun time. No sticky next days. It was okay, it worked for me. It gave me a physical release.
Since my brothers getting married though, I’ve wanted to find something a little more sticky too. A little more wholesome.
I didn’t expect Tina slash Sarah to be that person, I actually expected Sarah to be another fun night, but not now.
Now she’s different, not only because she’s Evie’s mom, and not because she’s friends with my family, but just because. She’s different.
But she’s also fragile, probably not someone for me.
I’m not sure I can handle fragile; not from lack of trying. I would try for her. But that’s not really who I am; gentle. And eventually she might figure that out. She might compare me to fuck face Sean Frankston.
I’m nothing like him. Not even a little bit.
But she’s been branded. She’s been broken by him, so anything harsher than kiddie gloves might be too much for her. And how long can I keep that side of me under control?
I want to take her. Not gently. Not with her permission chipped into a stone invitation.
I want to throw her down without asking first. I want to fist her hair and drag it back so I can take her mouth at the same time I take her pussy. I want to fuck her hard. I want to deprive her senses; blindfold her, place headphones in her ears and take away her hearing. I want her completely vulnerable to me. I want to tie her up, and control her.
I want her to trust me.
But she can’t. She couldn’t possibly have that kind of trust left in her to give.
And even if she did, I can’t do those things with a toddler down the hall. What the fuck kind of sick man am I to want to tie Evie’s mom up. To fuck Evie’s mom. To control Evie’s mom.
I don’t want to control her the way Sean did. I want it to be a consensual thing. A consensual pleasure.
But still. She’s already broken. She’s not able to give me the trust we both need.
A knock on the locker room door startles us both from our inner musings and brings us back to reality. “Kincaid, three minutes.”
Kit stops moving, her breath coming fast. Not labored, not heavy, but faster than usual. She’s warm. She’s ready.
“Take your gloves off,” I tell her, taking my own hands out of the mitts I was using and throwing them to the floor beside my bag.
Kit bites the Velcro on her left glove, ripping it open and shoving her hand under the elbow of her right arm.
She tugs her hand out, exposing her hot pink wraps, then she undoes the second and flicks that glove away too.
“I’m ready, coach.” She bounces excitedly, hitting me in the chest and giggling when I glare at her.
“Hit me again and I’ll hit you back, Princess.”
“You would not,” she argues, bouncing on the balls of her feet as though she were Ali himself.
No. I wouldn’t hit her. But I might trip her on the way to the ring. That’ll teach her smart ass a lesson.
~*~
Kit and I walked down the tunnel toward the ring, her outward excitement taking a hit in the face of reality.
Nerves hit her hard, and that’s where I come in, to pump her up, get her mind back in the game.
That’s why Bobby wasn’t with us, because although he wants her to succeed in everything she tries, he’d rather carry her to the Greek Islands and keep her safe rather than let her fight.
I held in my groan when we entered the main room and found her competitor already waiting for us. She was a fucking monster.
Shorter than Kit, but a hell of a lot heavier.
Bobby was white faced and bug eyed as he watched his wife approach her. I watched as Jimmy and Jon literally held him down, stopping him from bringing his drama llama bullshit to Kit when she needed to focus.
I even sang her stupid song for her, bringing a smile to her face when she looked like she wanted to hurl everywhere.
I sent her into the ring with a slap on the ass and a command to “get it done.”
She got it done.
I watched as Big Betty pushed her around. The way she forced Kit on her back leg from the start. I watched as Kit’s fists sunk into Betty’s midsection, and I watched Kit get less and less enthusiastic about her success because she felt like she wasn’t making any progress.
She was though. Because I also watched Betty; the way she was slowing down, the way she limped because Kit kept pounding that same leg over and over. The way she flinched every time Kit clipped her jaw.
By the final minutes in the third round, when I thought Bobby could take no more, and Kit was limping too, Tink was at the ropes, screaming at Betty and encouraging Kit to ‘go ghetto on her ass.’ She was so loud that Jon had to remove her before the gym officials did.
Jon grabbed her screaming ass around the waist, lifting her from her monkey grip on the ropes and dragged her back.
“Fuck her up, Kit!” she screamed, kicking her legs out and trying to break free from Jon’s arms.
Half laughing, half terrified he might be arrested, he slapped his hand over her still screaming mouth. “Shut up, you idiot.”
“Finish it!” she yelled, her words muffled behind his hand. “Finish it, Kit! Don’t make me come up there--”
By that point, Jimmy had deserted his off-duty post in the crowd and joined us at the ropes too. When everyone had had enough and was losing their shit, I watched as Kit got pissed, having given up on trying to move Betty back with her legs and fists, instead she changed tactics. Ramming Betty with her good shoulder, bouncing her off
the ropes, then when Betty rebounded, Kit used her height advantage, bringing her elbow down on Betty’s nose, immobilizing her and knocking her to her ass.
Knocked. The fuck. Out.
Bobby was in the ring before I was, even though he wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near it. He picked her up, flinging her head gear off, her mouth guard fisted in his hand and he fused his mouth to hers.
“From the Rollin On Gym, Home of the Kincaid brothers, Home of world champions, Winner by KO, Katherine Kincaid!” the referee shouts, taking her hand and holding it up, even while Bobby refused to let her go.
They’re idiots. And I’m smiling like an idiot.
“Good job,” Tina says, ripping my attention from my brother and his wife, and my other brothers and sisters making fools of themselves as the referee tries to shoo their asses out of the ring as Betty climbs to her feet. Anyone would think Kit just won a world title.
I study Tina as she smiles shyly up at me, tucking her hair behind her ear and her eyes flick all over my face. It’s almost a physical caress. I step down from the perch on the corner of the ring, stepping into her space, my hand stretching slowly to touch the ends of her hair.
“Did you enjoy that?” I ask her, only now wondering if maybe seeing a fight might upset her, but her smile says otherwise. As does the large camera hanging around her neck.
“That was so cool. Kit is so badass.”
“Yeah, she is.”
“Tink is scary.”
“Yeah,” I agree on a laugh, “she is.” Someone needs to watch her always. I’m absolutely surprised we haven’t had to bail her out yet. Seriously surprised.
“Did you enjoy it?” she asks, bringing my attention back front and center and I nod.
“Yeah, I always enjoy a good fight. Especially when our fighter wins.”
“She looked like she had fun.”
“She did. I saw her smile most the damn time. How was Bobby?”
“Oh god,” she laughs. “He was freaking out. Jon was sitting on him at one point. Sitting on him.”