by Emilia Finn
“I don’t want a pity fucking dinner like some ridiculous fangirl,” he roars. “Do you want me to ask Ben questions too? Should I ask for his autograph, since I can’t have his girl?”
“No.” He’s losing his temper, which, surprisingly, makes it easier for me to hold onto mine. “No, I don’t think you should ask him for his autograph. I think you should make the choice that is most comfortable for you. So if that means flying out today, I’ll help you get tickets and a ride to the airport.”
“That would be so fucking easy for you, huh?” He grabs my wrists and squeezes until the bones crunch together. Breaking twigs in the distance penetrate my mind, but they’re forgotten again when Reid bares his teeth and snaps close to my face. “You want me out of the way so you can reunite with your ex. The perfect end to a perfect fucking vacation. It’s a Christmas miracle.”
“I am done repeating myself! Leave, Reid. I won’t argue in circles in the damn forest when I have a family back there to spend time with.”
I snap my arm from his grasp, but my breath comes out on a loud cry when his hand grabs my boob so hard, I swear he’s going to tear it from my chest. He squeezes so hard that the pain slingshots to my gut, and those crackling twigs come louder.
The instincts my family has taught me since day one have me swinging around with lightning fast reflexes, and though the movement hurts my chest more, since Reid’s still holding on, my fist still slams into the side of his jaw and knocks him to the forest floor. “I said no! I’m sick to death of saying no and not being listened to!”
“You fucking bitch!” he shouts.
He thrusts up from his crouch with hands I’m certain he plans to use to choke the life out of me, but Ben is like a wolf in the wild. He runs and pounces, and slams Reid to the ground so hard that their colliding bodies make a heavy thud that hurts my ears.
Ben’s fists rain down over Reid’s face and protecting arms. “You don’t hurt a woman!”
He’s incensed, roaring his anger while more running footsteps echo on the ground, until Uncle Bobby and Biggie emerge from the trees. Behind them, our three-legged dog with her teeth bared and a roaring growl ripping along her throat.
Biggie stops for just a moment with heartbreak pulsing in his eyes as he takes stock of me holding my chest, then he runs hard, with his head down and his arms pumping, until he collides with Ben and sends him flying off of Reid. Bulging muscles, snapping growls, and Annie’s ferocious anger as she stands over Reid with saliva dribbling straight from her teeth and onto Reid’s chest.
Ben’s stepdad runs into the forest mere seconds after Ben and the others, and when he finds the guys grappling, and Annie holding Reid down, he snaps into police mode.
“Stop!” He shoves Ben back when he escape’s my father’s grip and prepares to run at Reid again. He pushes Ben so hard that the forest floor rumbles, then he pounces on Reid’s body, tosses him to his stomach, and slaps cuffs onto his already swelling wrists. “Stop!” He turns so fast and points at Ben with finality. “Don’t you fucking move. Don’t you come over here, Sasquatch. I mean it. If you touch him, you’re dead to me.”
“He was hurting her!” Ben thunders. “She said no!”
“And now he’s down.” Oz climbs to his feet and pulls Reid up. “She’s fine, and if you touch him again, you’re going to prison. Don’t lose it all over this. Come on.” He shoves Reid forward and steps the long way around Ben.
If he gets too close, Ben will kill him. Oz is saving him from himself.
Ben sits on his ass with a wildly heaving chest, and his eyes scour my body. From one spot to the next, his study is like a hot poker as he makes sure I’m okay and works through his rage.
Seeing him like this might be the most terrifying thing of all, because for him not to get up and chase Oz down means he’s swallowing the poison. He’s absorbing it, taking it in himself, rather than spitting it out and saving himself first.
The poison hurts him, and whatever hurts him, hurts me.
“Evie…” His lips quiver, and his fingers dig into the green forest floor. “Are you–”
“I’m so sorry, Ben.” My voice is a cracked squeak. I cry as my breast aches, and pain radiates right around to my back. “I tried to make it better.”
“It’s okay.” Mom appears from nowhere – or maybe she arrived with everyone else – and wraps her arm around my shoulder. She turns me away from Oz, away from Reid, even away from Biggie while he stands half folded with his hands on his knees and his head buzzing with rage.
These men that love me hold onto the potent rage that they wish they could unleash on Reid’s face, and they do it for me.
Everything they’ve ever done is for me.
“Come on, sweetheart.” Mom presses her lips to my temple and holds me up when I stumble. “We’re going home.”
“No, we’re going to the police station,” Oz snaps. He holds Reid’s bound hands and pushes him ahead of our group. “Straight to the police station to make this shit legit.”
“I’m so sorry, Mom.”
“Don’t be sorry, baby.” Mom leads me back toward the estate, slowing a little when Reid begins to cuss us out.
He doesn’t want to go to the police station. He doesn’t want anything to do with that ‘slut’.
“You never have to be sorry for someone else’s actions,” Mom continues. “You never ever have to be sorry for saying no.”
Evie
College Life
“Are you sure, sweetheart?” Mom stands in my brand-new dorm room three weeks after Christmas, and holds my face like she’s terrified to let go. “I won’t be disappointed if you quit now. You’ve done what you had to do. You did all but one semester, honey. You still don’t like it. You’re allowed to come home.”
“No, it’s fine.” I cup her hand and close my eyes. “I only have one semester left. It would be insane to quit now.”
“You could finish by correspondence,” Biggie adds. “Online classes are the same thing. You still get the degree at the end.”
I shake my head and will the tears from my eyes. “It’s fine. I’ll be home in May, even if it kills me. I need this time.” I finally open my eyes and stare into my mom’s. They’re exactly the same as mine, but prettier. Better. Less selfish. “I need time alone. No Reid. No Ben. Not even the psycho twins or Bry. I need to be in my own space for a minute to prove that I can do it.”
“One semester, right?” Biggie takes me from Mom and turns me to face him. “You’re not gonna sign up for extras, are you? No masters or anything like that?”
“Have you met me?” I give a nervous laugh. “I swear on all of the tubs of ice cream in the world, there’s nothing that could tempt me to sign up for more. We have a plan, right?”
He stares right into my eyes. “Plans, and Evie Kincaid are rarely harmonious, honey. The universe loves hearing that we have plans, because it delights in fucking them up for us.”
“Finals in May,” I push. “Home straight after that. Back into the gym in June. Debut title win in December.”
He chuckles. “You’re so sure it’s yours, huh? No doubt? There’s absolutely no chance you might be bested?”
“The only way I won’t win is if I don’t turn up. Doubting is a waste of my time.” I pull him down and press a kiss to his stubbled cheek. “Everything’s going the way it’s supposed to: degree, gym, title. And maybe after that, I’ll go back to the dancing for men plan.”
“Smalls!”
I laugh and try to ignore the tear that slides along my cheek. “I love you so much.” I step onto my toes and wrap my arms around his neck. “You’re still my best friend. The kind that lasts forever.”
“Honey…”
“It’s okay.” I step back and lower to flat feet. “These are my choices. This is what I need to do. And after…” I shrug. “I’ll deal with that when it gets here.”
“You’re not coming to the fight in March?”
I shake my head and pull my bottom
lip between my teeth. “No, but I’ll be watching. I’ll have the pay-per-view, and I’ll probably call while he’s fighting. Ya know, to coach him, since you guys don’t do shit about his lazy arm.”
“If you were in the gym like you’re supposed to be, you could have the head coaching position and I could finally retire.”
I force a small smile and try not to crumble. “You’re not that old. And you can’t retire until I’m done. There’s no one else I want coaching me. To be the best, I need to be surrounded–”
“By the best,” he finishes in a gentle voice. “I should have gone pro. I could have kicked their asses in a heartbeat.”
Laughing, I step away, only to be swallowed up by my mom’s embrace. “You tell Uncle Bobby that. I’ll buy the pay-per-view to that show, too. Now you have to go.” I unravel my mom’s million arms and step out of her embrace. “Classes start tomorrow, and my roommate is gonna flip her shit if we keep her awake any longer.”
Bean lays back in her bed and rolls her eyes. “My old roommate was much quieter. This is bullshit, by the way. I never asked for this delinquent to be up in my space.”
“And yet, you get me anyway.” I take my parents’ hands and lead them toward the door. “I’m an hour away from home, so you can rush here any time you need to see me. But for you to miss me, you need to leave.”
“You’re not coming home for Easter?”
I shake my head. “I have a shit ton of homework to catch up on if I want to actually finish this degree. So from now until May, I’m in lockdown. When I come home, it’ll be free and clear, and the rest of my life can begin.”
It takes twenty more minutes to get them out and the door closed behind them, but it doesn’t feel like it did the first time. My heart isn’t breaking like that first semester. My stomach isn’t hollowed out, and my eyes aren’t stinging from tears. It’s just a temporary goodbye, and I get to keep Bean every day from now until graduation anyway.
I have my own bed, my own side of the room, but once I close the door behind my parents and change into sleep shorts and a sports bra, I grab my phone and climb into my cousin’s bed the same way we’ve slept together since I was a small child.
Just as soon as she was old enough and her mom and dad weren’t worried I’d smother the baby in her sleep, we’ve shared sleeping space as often as we could.
When I was eight, and I’d had a shitty day.
When she was nine and having a tough time at school.
When I was fourteen, and a boy I once knew came barreling back into my life.
And just a few years back, when Mac’s heart gave out, and he died in my family’s gym right in front of us.
This arrangement won’t last forever, since she’ll still have a couple years left of her degree when I walk the stage for mine, but for now, it’s what we both need while she applies herself to a degree she’s doing for someone else. For someone she loves selflessly.
I slide into bed beside her and smile when our legs twine together, and when we turn toward each other and she sets her laptop up so we can watch the pro fights onscreen, we find our happy place. We fall asleep together, with someone we will never fall out of love with, with the sounds of our home coming from the tinny speakers of her laptop, and the next day, I find myself in a brand new class, with new faces, a new lecturer, and no boy sitting behind me while he pokes me with a pencil and doesn’t take no for an answer.
Reid Baker is yet to go to court for his arrest, but it won’t result in much more than a fine and a slap on the wrist. He won’t go to prison, he wasn’t even held behind a cage for more than a few hours.
I’m not bitter about it. He doesn’t deserve a long rap sheet or prison time because he lost his cool and grabbed me. And no matter how pissed my family or Ben get about it, I won’t go to his hearing and try to make it worse for him.
He grabbed me, it hurt, but he shouldn’t be punished for life for a second of lost control when he works so hard to keep it together the rest of the time.
Epilogue
SIX Months Later
Walking into my final class of college was an exciting time for me. It was exhilarating, a roller-coaster of emotion, since I’d worked so damn hard to reach that point.
Walking the stage at my graduation and listening to my family wolf-whistle like a bunch of idiots when they called my name was a whole new level of exciting. I was handed a piece of paper I was not sure I’d ever earn, and I’m still not sure I’ll ever use. But I busted my ass for it, and though I had Ben’s help for the first semester, and Reid’s help sporadically around my third year, my degree comes on the back of my own hard work and a million hours slumped over textbooks that liked to taunt me.
I earned my degree with barely more than a passing grade.
I will never be hired by a corporate bigwig who depends on financial accuracy.
But I still did it. I earned the title of lowest grades in my entire graduating class, but I still graduated, and going by the veracity of my family’s cheers on the day, I don’t think they give a single shit that I sucked the most.
Because I still did it.
Coming home was a bittersweet day for me, because I’d been begging for that day to come for four years straight, but it meant leaving Bean behind, and leaving her warred with my every instinct.
Fortunately for us, she chose that school on purpose, so she could come home every single weekend, and every night that Gramma cooked for the family.
All of that made for an exciting couple of months, but none of them stand up to this feeling.
My entire family walks through the revolving glass doors at what we’ve dubbed fight central. It’s where the board of directors of the world’s largest fighting organization are based. A building I’ve been in a couple times in my life, since I’m directly related to three former champions, and several others have come out of my gym.
To be a Kincaid means you come with certain privileges, and the support that Reid so desperately came to my family for is now being swung in Mac’s direction.
He’s twenty-one, and his hearing is today.
My family might not agree with his choices to fight, the same way Bean doesn’t agree, but they approve of his right to choose. They support him, whatever that choice is, so now we walk the lobby as a team.
All of my uncles – Bobby, Jimmy, Jack, Jon – and the wives, Aunt Tink, Britt, Iz, and Mom. Even Aunt Kit, in the role of manager. She makes everyone shake in their boots, because when she walks into a room with a clipboard and high heels, you already know you’ve been fucked up.
At that point, you just hope it’s with a banana, and not a cactus.
Mac’s family is here, and not only the kind that share his blood. His mom’s husband, and the other guys that come from that connection.
Mac Blair walks in today with a hundred people that want to see his dreams come true, and even if most of us are terrified that if he gets his way, it may kill him, we still love him unconditionally, which means we stand behind him and lend our support.
I’ve kept to myself the past six months. I’ve sent a text or two to Ben. He was my best friend for a long time, and in finding myself, I still found my heart missing him.
So when I was in a better place emotionally, I reached out to say hey.
He could have ignored me. He could have told me to fuck off with as much venom as I know he deserves to have, but that’s not what he did.
I sent a text that merely said hey, and he called me back asking if he should toss his joker card down and select another.
He was with my family – with love, and not claws – joking over a game of cards and fitting in the way he always has, and instead of hiding away or ignoring me, he invited me in, and together, we won one out of five hands.
Yeah, pathetic, I know. But that one victory felt good. And the other four… the laughter was worth it.
That was in March, and when we hung up on good terms, he left me alone just like I’d asked.
&nb
sp; I sent another text in April, and got a call back within minutes. He was merely sitting in the back of his truck, eating takeout at the top of Lookout Hill.
Alone.
He was in a contemplative mood and wanted to be alone, but when I sent my text, he’d decided he wanted to be alone… but with me.
That was the beginning of a friendship we could both easily slip back into.
Ben Conner was my best friend long before he was my boyfriend, and to be able to find that again feels good for my soul.
April sped by after that, and then May hit – graduation month. In lieu of a text, I video called him on the way out of those finals, and celebrated with my best friend. Ice cream, quiet, and seeing his eyes.
It’s exactly how I was supposed to celebrate.
Now I’m home again, and though he angles toward me whenever we’re near, he keeps his distance, he respects my requests to be left alone, and though he white-knuckles his phone every minute of every day – his connection to me – he never makes demands on my time, or tries the guilt trip that Reid was so skilled at.
“Hey, Ben?’ I release my mom’s hand as we pass through the fancy lobby, and jog in heels until I catch up to him at the front of the pack.
He walks with a toddler on his hip – a baby boy that looks exactly like him – and sends my heart tumbling when he turns back and smiles.
Mac continues on ahead, leading his mom and stepdad to the elevators, but Ben pulls away from the pack and waits for me.
“Hey.” His smile is breathtaking. His hair looks a little unkempt, though his tight-fitting suit kind of makes up for it. The baby on his hip smacks Ben on the side of the head with a rattle toy, and flashes a two-toothed grin that looks just like a Conner smile would.