Brawl (21 page)

I haven’t turned to look at Hooligan. My nerves are shot. I’m embarrassed to all hell. I’m not sure if I’m gonna punch him for this or burst into tears at the effort he’s gone to.

This is my boombox outside my bedroom window moment.
Except, instead of John Cusack looking all innocently defiant and lovelorn, I have a broken man, with a past that Usain Bolt would find it hard to outrun, to contend with.

“Gabbi,” Hooligan grabs my hand and spins me to face him. I manage not to fall on my face, my hands landing on his shoulders when he pulls our bodies together. His gloved hands come to rest on my ass and the crowd hollers their appreciation until he raises his hand to quieten them. “I don’t do public proclamations. I don’t do sweet nothings. And I definitely don’t let Angelo talk me into plotting with my nephew and his friends to get the girl. But, for you, I’m doing all of that.”

Every hair on my body stands on end at his declaration, goosebumps joining them, and making me shiver.
This is surreal.

“I haven’t had anyone in my corner since Mari died. I wouldn’t let them; it felt wrong to continue on without her. Truthfully, I’ve been so angry since then that none of my fights have made it out of the first round anyway.” His honesty is raw, the pain in his voice palpable. It costs him to tell me this but he straightens his shoulders and continues. “When I was brainstorming ways to get you to speak to me. I knew this was the best way to show you what I was trying to say that day in the gym. You’re still a kid, in some—”

“I’m not,” I argue, until he silences me with a hard look.

“I’m doing the talking right now. It’s your turn after my fight.” Nodding at his no-nonsense words, I press my lips together. “What I was saying, is that you’re still a girl in some ways but I forgot that. I threw my past at you and expected you to sort through it on your own to get to my true meaning. I scared you away because you don’t have the life experience that I do.”

I want to disagree with him; tell him that there’s much more to it than fear. My silence, the distance I’ve put between us is for his own good more than mine. I can survive whatever he throws at me because I won’t let myself fall for him. Hooligan, on the other hand, he’s already been through loss once before and it broke him for over three years. My conscience will not let me be responsible for him suffering through it a second time.

“Amy’s told me about your parents. The full story about your mother and how you ended up with Cooper. I know where your sister is and I know what your dad did.
I get it.
You don’t trust men. You don’t believe in love. Fuck, I’m not even sure if you like me half as much as I like you. Your exterior is pretty bloody impenetrable. So, I’m just swinging away here, hoping like fuck that I’m gonna connect with you, and hit a homerun.”

His bad analogies make me smile, even as I try to defend myself. “I’m not that bad. I just learnt early what it takes some girls a lifetime to discover.
Fairy tales aren’t real.
Prince Charming isn’t going to come riding into my life and fix all of my problems. Nobody is waiting with a glass slipper.”

Earnest, green eyes bore into mine. Hooligan looks like he’s trying to telepathically convince me to believe his next promise. “If you give me the chance, I can prove that you’re wrong. Fairy tales are real. I’ve already had one and I want my next one to be with you.”

Biting my bottom lip when it starts to quiver, I break our eye contact and push against his shoulders. He doesn’t let me move, holding me in place with unyielding arms. “How can you say that? Your wife died and so did your son.”

“It’s taken me three years to grasp that the ending doesn’t change how good my life was before. Me and Mari had the sort of love that they write about in romance novels. I worshipped the ground she walked on and she loved me unequivocally.  Gabe was cherished every second of his short life; he was the physical product of our love story. What more could we have asked for? We were gifted a fairy tale; it was just a short one and I take comfort knowing that Mari and Gabe died knowing they were loved.”

The tears I was attempting to contain spill down my cheeks. I bite harder on my lip to stop them but they continue to flow. Maybe,
just maybe
, he’s right and he can prove that fairy tales are possible.

“And, I’ve finally realized that they loved me so much that they’d want me to be happy again.” He leans his forehead against mine and whispers his next sentence. “They’d want me to have someone else in my corner.”

My heart bursts into life, racing in my ears, as the gravity of his words dawn on me. The first time I saw him walk to the cage, I’d wondered why he was alone, and now I know the reason I understand his decision. Letting someone take his wife’s position is a big deal. It means he’s ready to let her rest in peace and move on with his life.

The crowd has been quiet since Hooligan shushed them; now they start to show their restlessness. Whistles and hollering breaks out, beginning as a low rumble of jumbled words that gradually builds into a chant that reverberates around the basement. The two words bounce off the walls, making me flush and Hooligan laugh.

“Kiss her. Kiss her. Kiss her.”

Letting go of me and then taking a step back, Hooligan gives me my freedom again. Lifting an eyebrow, he waits for my reaction with a guarded expression clouding his face. The chanting picks up, stomping feet joining the shouted cries, and a sense of urgency takes hold in the atmosphere. It cloaks me, making my hair stand on end, and causing my mind to run in a million different directions as dozens of questions, “what if’s”, and all the reasons for and against me and Hooligan bombard me.

Staring at the gorgeous man in front of me—the man who’s just laid his heart bare for me—I recognize that my choice comes down to two questions.

What do I have to lose if I trust him?

Nothing. I’ve already lost everything once before and survived. My dad left me, my mother hates me, Zali doesn’t want anything to do with me, and Cooper will still need me no matter what happens.

What do I have to gain by seeing where this goes?

Everything. Happiness, stability, the ability to pursue my dreams...and the love of a good man.

The answer seems ridiculously clear.

“I come with a lot of baggage. Cooper. A crazy mother. A messed up sister. I’m nasty. I’m rude. I’ll tell you when I think you’re being an asshole and I won’t bow down to you like your fighters do.”

“Gabbi. My baggage makes yours look like hand-luggage. I’m a mean son-of-a-bitch. My mouth moves faster than my brain. I’m going to piss you off constantly...” Hooligan counters my arguments with his own. My feet are on auto-pilot, closing the distance between us before I know what they’re doing. My hands meet his hard stomach, sliding over the rippled planes, and then disappearing behind his back.

Angling my face toward his, I give him one last warning. “I’m not eighteen for another week.”

He sends a smug smile my way. “I know, that’s why I’m fighting tonight. Come midnight next Saturday, I’m going to be balls deep in your
legal
pussy. That’s what the MC meant by better plans.”

Laughing, I push onto the tips of my toes so I can reach his lips. Hooligan holds his mouth out of my reach, the humor in his gaze dying, replaced by a serious expression that’s more-than-a-little pleading.

“Will you be in my corner, Gabbi? Tonight and for as long as you can put up with me?”

Hooligan

S
he’s in my arms, right where she should be, and the worry and mistrust that usually glimmers from her amber eyes is missing for once. I should be certain of her answer, but I’m not. Gabbi is a closed book, ferociously brave yet scared of her own shadow at the same time.

“I’m in your corner. Tonight and for as long as you’ll have me.”

Relief of gigantic proportions floods me and the weight that’s been hanging over me since she ran out of the gym lifts. The room appears brighter, the miserable gloom that’s been clouding my vision for so long dissipating.

“Kiss her. Kiss her,” the chant echoes around the basement again.

I’d forgotten about the people surrounding us while we’ve been lost in our own world. The gamble I’d taken by getting Nate, Jep and Amy involved tonight was fucking huge and could’ve easily backfired. Keeping a hostile group of fight fans waiting was an even bigger risk.

The ruby lips that have haunted every moment of my day since I first laid eyes on her are angled toward me as Gabbi peers up at me with an expression that’s screaming for me to kiss her. Leaning closer, I pause with our mouths an inch apart. Despite my declarations to the contrary, I’m in two minds about this. As I’m waiting for the guilt I’ve lived with for three years to attack, my doubts begin to creep back in.

She’s too young and inexperienced.

I’m too old and jaded.

Can I really move on from Mari?

Is it possible to love another woman as much as I loved her?

How are we going to make this work?

I have my gym. Gabbi has art school and Cooper.

Fuck, am I ready to step up and help her raise her brother...the little boy who’ll remind me every single day of what I’ve lost.

What if she falls in love with me and I lose her as well?

“Stop overthinking,” Gabbi’s sexy voice breaks through my impending panic. “Just go with it. One day at a time. That’s the best anyone can do.”

Putting her hands on the back of my head, she pulls me the rest of the way and kisses me. It’s an emotion-filled melding of two broken people. My black heart meeting her broken heart and promising each other that we will help the other heal. The crowd roars their appreciation, adding a dreamlike element to the moment.

“Ahem,” the MC startles me when he appears next to me without warning. “Hooligan, we really need to get this fight started. The cops are going to be here to shut down the club soon if we take much longer.”

Turning to Gabbi, I smile. “You ready to do this.”

Waving a hand down the front of herself, she gestures to her skin tight jeans, flowing top and knee-high boots and giggles. “I’m not exactly dressed to corner you but I’ll do my best.”

My desire to spend time with her tonight is stronger than my need to toy with my opponent and put on a show for the fans.

“This isn’t going to take long,” I promise. Pointing at the MC, I continue. “Tell him to get his ass out here. We have a score to settle.”

Grabbing Gabbi’s shoulders as well as I can with my gloves on, I turn her toward the gate, slapping her on the ass as I say, “Outside. Nate will show you where to go.”

She does as she’s told, and I watch Nate leading her over to the spot where my corner is supposed to sit. It’s been empty during every fight I’ve had since the day my life changed. Stretching so she can whisper in his ear, I see him point at one of the seats in response. Mari’s seat.

Gabbi looks in my direction, before taking a step to the side and sitting in the chair next to Mari’s. The care she’s shown in honoring my wife puts all of my doubts to rest. A sense of rightness fills me, driving the cold out of my heart—the heart that Gabbi has started to defrost—and filling me with a warmth I haven’t felt in forever. A tiny bubble of guilt tries to dampen my enthusiasm but Gabbi’s voice drives it away.

One day at a time. That’s the best anyone can do.

Bouncing on my toes, I warm up. Feinting, practicing combo’s, and just generally fucking around while I wait for my opponent. I don’t need to put much effort into this fight. Raw emotion and my taste for retribution will be more than enough.

“And, here to redeem himself after being KO’d in the first round the last time these two met is Gregory “Kryptonite” Krakan.”

The basement fills with boos and hissing.  The crowd might have been on his side at our previous fight, however, the knowledge that he organized for his crew to attack Nate and his friends if he lost has filtered around fight circles. The hardcore fans want to see me punish him, and I’m more than happy to oblige.

What he said about Mari is between us, adding a more personal edge to my revenge.

Entering the cage with none of the theatrics of the last time, Kryptonite steps into the middle. We listen to the ref laying down the law.

“Touch gloves.”

This time he holds his arms out to touch. I reach forward, pretending I’m going to meet him half way, only to pull back at the last moment. “Not gonna happen, cunt. This is personal. We have a score to settle.”

Kryptonite blanches; his face turning white, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face.
Good.
It appears that he remembers what my fists felt like last time.

“And. Fight!”

The ref jumps out of the way as I stride toward the asshole in front of me, who backs away with fear in his face. When his back meets the chain-link fence of the cage, I pull my fist back and hit him full-force in the chin. His head snaps back, his eyes rolling like ping-pong balls in his head, and his knees give out.

Landing heavily, Kryptonite falls as if to face plant. I grab his head and hold him upright. Punching him again, I ignore the roaring appreciation of the crowd when his eyebrow splits and blood splatters everywhere.

“That one’s for having your goons attack my nephew.”

Pushing him back against the fence, I hit him dead center in the solar plexus and then in his smart mouth.

“That’s for mentioning my wife.”

Chest heaving from exertion and my growing rage, I pull the memory of watching Gabbi being attacked by the red-headed fucker Kryptonite sent after her because she was with Nate from the recesses of my mind. I remember how she fought like a trooper, only to end up dropped to the floor and trapped underneath the crowd. Recalling the terror on her face when I’d picked her up after pulling the fire alarm to activate the sprinklers, I let Kryptonite fall to his face on the mat, and, knowing full well that it’s going to get me disqualified, I pull my leg back and kick him first in the liver and then in the back of the head.

“And that’s so you know how my girl felt when she got caught in your melee.”