Brawl (26 page)

“This is what I’m talking about. He’s threatening to kill me and you’re okay with living with him and having him around Cooper?

Rolling my eyes at his theatrics, I face Dad with my hands on my hips. Hooligan doesn’t budge, ignoring my request to remove Cooper from the room. “I’m sure he wouldn’t kill you. Hurt you a little, but murder? Hmmm, I doubt it.”

“This isn’t funny, Gabriella. I don’t recognize you anymore.” He points an accusing finger in my direction. And, I know what’s about to come. The real crux of his problem. My appearance. “You’re covered in tattoos, half your head’s shaven, and your clothing. My God. It’s depressing to see the depths you’ve sunk to.”

“That’s it. I’ve heard enough. Gabbi, get in the car. We’re leaving before I put my fist through this fuckwit’s face.” Hooligan looks ready to explode. Hoisting Cooper further up his body, he grabs the top of my arm and drags me toward the front door.

“I’m calling the police if you take my son.
And
, I’ll be informing them that you’re sleeping with my underage daughter,” Dad yells after us.

I barrel into Hooligan’s back when he comes to an abrupt stop. Turning back in the direction we’ve just come, he passes Cooper to me and storms back into the dining room. My father recoils at whatever expression is covering Hooligan’s face—I’d hazard a guess that he appears murderous, at the very least. Zali scrambles from her seat and runs for the kitchen, leaving the two men facing off.

Every time Hooligan advances, Dad takes a step backward until his back hits the wall, and he runs out of space to run. Grasping the front of my father’s shirt, my man shoves him against the wall and I decide it’s time to intervene.

“Hooligan. Don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want you to get in any trouble.”

“Don’t stress, Gabbi. I’m just reminding him that it’s your birthday. This is the second time that small fact has slipped his mind.” A giggle erupts in my chest, bubbling out of my throat and making both men stare at me.

“You’re a crazy man. Who cares if he remembers it’s my birthday. He’s missed the last three, what’s another one?”

“I care. You deserve to have it acknowledged.”

“You’ve already done that. That’s enough for me.” Making my way back to him, I coax him into letting go of my dad. Cooper doesn’t pay any attention to him as he takes a shaky seat at the table, dropping his head into his hands. He’s too interested in the funny faces Hooligan’s pulling at him.

“I’m sorry, Gabbi. I’ve fucked everything up. Cooper can go with you, but I want to spend time with him. I’ll find a way to make this up to all three of you.”

The anxiety that’s been churning in my stomach dies down at Dad’s acquiescence. My little brother has had too much upheaval in his short life for me to abandon him now, just because it would be the easy option.

And it would be the easiest way out of this
. Giving Cooper back to Dad would make my life a lot less stressful. I could train and fight, work as many hours as I need, and concentrate on my art again. I could pretend that my conscience is clear because he’s with his parent, but it wouldn’t be. Every second would be consumed with worry about how he’s adjusting, if they’re putting his needs first, and whether he’s feeling secure.

It’s a sorry state of affairs, however, I don’t trust either of my parents with the proper care of Cooper. They’ve proven themselves unreliable too many times. They’re selfish, self-centered, and completely void of the necessary self-reflection that it takes to be a good parent.

“That’s all I’m asking. We can slowly re-introduce you to him, but he stays with me until he chooses otherwise.”

Even as the words are said, I admit to myself that my most fervent wish is for that to never come.
Cooper is mine.
Now and forever.

Hooligan stands next to me, throwing an arm over my shoulder and pulling me into his side. He senses my desire to keep my brother forever, although I’ve never voiced it to him, and his tender touch tells me that he’s more than committed to helping me get my wish.

“And, me,” Hooligan speaks up. “He stays with both of us because I’ll be at her side the whole time. No longer will Gabbi be shouldering the responsibility on her own.”

Dad nods, lifting his head from his hands and meeting my gaze. I take my opportunity to lay out the remainder of my plan for the future.

“I want the fighting to stop. We work together with this, but you don’t get to bulldoze us or bring the police into it. Cooper comes first for once. Hooligan isn’t going anywhere, so you either get over your objections or you keep them to yourself. And when Mom gets out of rehab, she’s your responsibility to keep under control. I’m done with her.”

Zali pipes up from her spot at the kitchen counter. “I’m with Gabbi. She stays away or I’m leaving too.”

Our father looks defeated, and I’d be lying if I said the part of me that was “Daddy’s Girl” before he left us didn’t feel bad for him. The part that’s spent three years in hell; that part is glad that he’s getting a taste of what he did to us. It’s a small taste, barely enough to satisfy my craving for retribution, but it’s enough. He’s facing an uphill battle to regain his children’s love and trust, and he’ll be lucky if he manages to salvage half of what he had.

That’s punishment enough for me at this time.
I can’t let his re-emergence bring back to life the angry girl that Hooligan’s presence soothes. Letting my rage at his betrayal devour me is only going to poison my own life and happiness.

“Come on. Let’s go home.” Hooligan nudges me with his arm when it becomes apparent that Dad has nothing else to say.

Smiling up at the huge man walking next to me out of the house that was once my sanctuary, I take the time to
really
look at him.

The first time I laid eyes on him, I recognized his disillusionment with the world because it mirrored my own. He was a snarling, savage beast, filled with the need to wreak destruction with his fists and annihilate with his nasty tongue. The pain that ate at him was clear to see. He was hate-filled, shut away inside himself, and determined to make everyone around him pay for his loss. I should’ve run away as fast as I could, not let the universe sweet-talk me into pursuing him. Every time I lied to myself that it was purely physical, every time I told myself that he was an asshole, he stripped away another layer of my protective armor and dug deeper into me than anyone else had bothered to for years.

What was left of his humanity called to mine; the pair of us filled with a desperate need for someone who would understand us. I almost missed its call; lost as I was in my determination to keep anyone from getting close to me ever again. The hatred and betrayal that was consuming me blinded me to his potential to save me. It almost kept me from seeing my ability to bring
him
back to life.

We might not end up with our happily-ever-after. Hell, the fairy tale might elude both of us, however, I’ll never regret Hooligan’s decision to brawl for me. Like he said, the ending doesn’t matter as much as the story, and I know that our beginning heralds the start of an epic story.

Hooligan pulled my hands from my ears and the wool from my eyes, forcing me to let in the light and listen to the people around me who were screaming that I was losing myself to my hatred. And, I returned the favor, giving him a reason to live again.

My soul sings when he turns to me as we emerge from the house and matches my regard with his own. His promise that he’s going to spend the rest of his life proving to me that happily-ever-afters are possible for even the most fucked-up of us rings in my head. His green eyes glimmer with an emotion that’s stronger than love, more useful than pride, and a hell-of-lot-more exciting than lust.

Hope.
His face is filled with it. That potent feeling that keeps the world revolving, and makes people believe they can achieve the impossible. It radiates from him, reaching out to me, and filling every fiber of my body. It makes me believe that he will honor his promise and prove that the fairy tale is sweeter for the ones who’ve survived the worst the universe can throw at them.

Gabbi

Three Months Later

M
y heart’s in my throat, choking me, restricting my air flow. There’s a huge rock in my stomach weighing me down. My eyesight is dimming, fading by the second.

I can’t do this.

I’m not strong enough.

I’m not fast enough.

Everyone’s going to laugh at me.

Hooligan’s going to be disappointed in me.

“Fuck me dead, Nate.” My man’s cranky voice fills the dressing room I’ve been assigned for the night. “I told you to keep her calm and centered. She’s having a fucking panic attack and you’re over here macking on ya missus.”

His handsome face comes into sight when he drops to his knees in front of me. “Put your head between your knees, little girl.” 

Rubbing between my shoulder blades after I’ve dropped my head, he pulls me out of my freak-out with his no-nonsense tone. “Breathe in. Breathe out. That’s it.”

Once I’ve regained control of myself, I sit upright and give him a sheepish half-grin. “Well, that was embarrassing.”

Sliding onto the bench next to me, Hooligan hugs me to him, pressing a kiss on my forehead. “I’m surprised you lasted this long. I had money on you passing out in the car. Your stubbornness cost me fifty.”

Jabbing the cheeky man in the ribs with my elbow, I can’t help but laugh at him. “Serves you right for betting against me. Where did you go anyway?”

Slyness narrowing his gaze, he wrinkles his nose and taps the side of it. “For me to know and you to find out.”

Rolling my eyes at him, I open my mouth ready to retort, only to be interrupted by knocking on the door. “Gabbi Mitchell. You’re up.”

Calmness floods me; the residual jumpiness from my almost panic-attack leaving my system. It’s time to put my money where my mouth is.

The humor drops from Hooligan’s expression and he turns business-like in an instant. Gathering my drink bottles, he tosses them to Nate. “Right, fuckers. This is my woman going out here tonight. All eyes on the cage. Nobody makes a fucking suggestion without passing it by me first. And, if that crowds looks like it’s turning to shit, she’s outta there.”

Nate, Amy, and Jep lead the way out, Hooligan walking beside me. He had it together until the knock on the door, now I’m the one who’s focused, and he’s the one who’s looking like he’s about to fall apart. “No unnecessary risks. Keep your face protected and take her down. You’ll annihilate her on the ground.”

Shaking my head, I deadpan my answer. “Okay, if she hits me, I’ll ask her politely not to damage my face, and then see if she minds sitting down so I can wrestle her.”

“Don’t be flippant. I’m fucking serious.”

Saluting the best I can, I lift my eyebrows up and down. “Yes, sir.”

My mocking antics bring a much-needed smile to his face. Checking that it reaches his eyes, I duck my head to hide my matching grin. He’s calming down, thank Christ.

The boys push the door leading to the basement open. The roar of the crowd is insane, loud and pulsing. Screams and whistles ring in the air. Security holds us back, refusing to let us enter. My crazy man checks my gloves for the twentieth time, ripping the Velcro open and refastening it.

“What’s the hold up?”

“They have to announce you, ninja girl,” Nate laughs at me. “You really need to learn some patience.”

Jep and Nate fall into each other when I attempt to flip my middle finger at Nate. It doesn’t straighten properly, hampered by my gloves, so I end up resembling an arthritic old lady with a finger that doesn’t work. “I’m going to remember this. Might want to watch your back when you debut next weekend.”

Jep snorts, his laughter increasing when Nate pales at my jab. It’s his turn to fight next weekend. I think he’s more nervous than I am, although, Amy looks like she’s going to be sick at the thought so her panic might top all of ours combined.

“And, fighting for the first time we have Gabriella “Little Girl” Mitchell. Let’s give her a loud welcome.” 

Spinning to face Hooligan, my nostrils flaring as I breathe like a fucking dragon in his direction. “You asshole.
Little girl?
That’s what you snuck away from me to organize?”

Jumping out of my reach when I swing at him, determined to let him know how upset how I am. He knows I hate his nickname for me, no matter how much he tries to convince me it’s an endearment and not a veiled insult.

“I didn’t just arrange your announcement. I also let them in.” Taking hold of my hand, he leads me to the door and points in the direction of the cage. My dad and Zali sit ringside, looking a little out-of-place. “He wanted to come but he thought you’d say no so he asked me to keep it quiet.”

My bottom lip quivers and I blink furiously. I can’t cry before my fight, but damn, if I don’t want to. My dad’s been trying his hardest to make everything up to us. He’s been having Cooper one or two nights a week and they’re slowly getting to know each other. It’s been tough, and my inability to let go of my resentment is a major roadblock. My gut feeling that Cooper is going to ask to move home with his dad isn’t helping matters either.

“Come on.” The security guard beckons me forward.

We walk through the yelling crowd, the boys and Hooligan making sure no one touches me. Some of the men wolf-whistle which makes my man turn and point. I watch when the security guards take hold of them and remove them from the crowd.

“Over-protective, much?” I ask him. He shrugs, an unapologetic grin covering his face as he keeps us moving.

When we are at the steps leading into the cage, the three of them help me pull my sweatshirt and shorts off. Hooligan checks my gloves once again before the ref tells him it’s time for him to head to my corner. With obvious reluctance, he kisses me, holding tight until Nate grabs his arm and drags him away.

Crossing myself, I look at the steps. They seem insurmountable. Like Mount Everest, my personal summit to conquer. I’m on my own from now until the fight finishes. What happens is on me, and me alone.