The Wrath of Eli

by Lily Zante

  My heart lifts. “Did they?”

  “She's been itching to get her claws back into him. Thank goodness he got the fight. He ditched her as soon as he got short-listed.”

  “Maybe they’ll get back together after the fight?” I say, not because that's what I want—I want to yank Eli’s ex out of here by her hair—but I ask in order to get more information.

  “Eli has been known to do stupid things, so I wouldn't discount that idea.” She excuses herself and gets up to leave.

  Nina’s reply burns into my skin and sinks deeper, like acid. I want to leave, and I haven’t even been here that long, but my heart is sinking. Seeing Eli with the girl makes it harder for me to sit here and pretend I don't care.

  It was bad enough watching Eli's reaction to the training camp news. I was already upset before his beautiful ex-girlfriend showed up.

  Eli doesn't want me at the training camp and if I was unclear about where we both stood, I now have my answer.

  He and his ex will get back together again after the fight. The way she’s standing, facing him, I know they will.

  And I am so thankful that I will finish this assignment soon.

  I can't do this any longer, so I get my jacket and bag and walk over to Nina, who is talking to a guy. “Sorry,” I say, when I tap her on the shoulder and she turns to me, mid-conversation. I feel bad for her because she feels as if she has to keep an eye on me. I'm a burden, and there's no need to mess up her evening just because my own has been messed up.

  “I'm leaving,” I tell her.

  “Already? We only just got here.”

  “I need to go. My dad called earlier so I'd better see if he's okay,” I lie.

  “Is that why you're going?” Nina asks in disbelief. “Because you have to call your dad?”

  “I have stuff to do,” I insist. “You stay,” I tell her, then lean in and whisper into her ear. “He looks cute.”

  She gives me puppy-dog eyes, then kisses me on the cheek.

  I start to push through the heavy crowd and make my way towards the entrance, but I’m stopped by Callum.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” he says, resting his hand across my lower back. I flinch at the unwanted familiarity.

  “I didn’t know you were here,” I exclaim. Although I see him often at the boxing gym, we don’t talk much aside from the casual greetings.

  “Eli invited me. There are a few of us here from the gym.”

  I nod, because I hadn’t noticed. I haven’t been people-watching as much as I’ve been casually Eli-watching. “We go back a long way, me and Eli.”

  This catches my attention. “How long?”

  “From the fight club days.”

  “You were also fighting there?”

  “I was desperate. Needed the money.”

  “I was just leaving,” I tell him, “But I’d love to hear more about your days at the club.”

  “Yeah?” That seems to put a smile on his face.

  “But I was leaving,” I tell him to prepare him for the fact that I’m not staying long. In the corner, I can still see Athena with her paws on Eli’s arm. It annoys me. Like, really annoys me. I can’t bear to watch this show any longer, and now I don’t even care to hear about the fight club days.

  “Let’s talk,” Callum suggests, but I’m ready to split.

  “It’s too noisy, and too hot, and I’ve been here too long.” I feel claustrophobic.

  “Let’s go outside,” he offers. “There are plenty of people hanging around outside.”

  I could do that. Hear what he has to say and then go.

  “That’s a good idea.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  ELI

  * * *

  I was hoping it wouldn't come up, I was hoping nobody would bring it up but when Nina asked Harper about the training camp, I didn't jump for joy.

  I can't lie.

  But Harper knows I wasn't ecstatic about it.

  Santos and Jake aren't stepping into the ring, I am. The trip to Dwayne’s place will be a small vacation for them. They have to help me train, but their neck isn't on the line.

  Mine is.

  I sense Harper knows I'm not over the moon about it. It's hard to do, to create this distance between us, but it will help me in the long run.

  It's been an insane evening, and everyone wants a piece of me. It's only Harper who stays distant. She watches me, and I react in the moment. Friends come up to me, girls I've met before, and their friends, some of whom I've never seen before, but they all want something; an autograph or a picture with me. They get all territorial with their hands all over me. I swear, some of them even squeeze my muscles and their hands linger longer than is appropriate over my back or on my shoulder. If the roles were reversed, if these were guys doing this to a woman, there would be outrage.

  But then again, I can handle it. This is new to me, and I'm humbled. Hard not to get carried away when there’s so much attention leveled at you.

  I wonder what Harper's thinking. This place is like a beauty pageant minus the swimsuits. Working here as a security guard was crazy. I was always getting hit on, and if I hadn't been so singularly dedicated to boxing, I could have had a different woman every single night I worked here.

  I see Harper sitting alone and she looks uncomfortable. Nina's close by and keeping an eye on her, and the boys are hovering around, only they keep getting distracted. I sense that Harper feels as out of place here as I did at The Weston.

  I want to go up to her and rescue her, but I also know I shouldn’t. This wasn't such a problem a few weeks ago, and I don't know why it is now.

  Ever since Lou told me she's coming to the training camp, I know I have to do it again; I have to shut her out just like I shut out Athena.

  Except that Athena’s back, and boy, does she look good. Better than I remember. It's been months since I've seen her, but she looks hotter than ever. I can feel Harper checking us out. Athena bends down to kiss me on the cheek, and I steal a glimpse of her breasts. Memories of our nights together come flooding back.

  We were good together.

  At least the sex was.

  And I miss that.

  When Athena reaches for my hand, I let her take it. I want Harper to see. I want to knock away any ideas she might have of how things have changed between us.

  She has feelings for me, I know that. She can't hide what she feels and I already knew that from the first moment I saw her.

  But it's my feelings I have to hide now.

  So I let Athena take my hand and we walk away so that we can talk in private.

  I don't want my training week to be messed up, and ignoring Harper tonight will make things easier for me later on.

  I turn away when Athena puts her hand on my arm. She thinks we have a chance to get back together again. She couldn’t be more wrong. I look away in exasperation, and that’s when I see Harper talking to Callum. He’s a smooth talker, that one. I can see he might want to take a shot at Harper. He probably thinks she’s in his league.

  “You’re not listening to me,” Athena wails, and she pulls my face so that I’m looking at her. I hate her talons on my skin, and I’m about to tell her to go to hell, but she doesn’t always hear such requests. She’s still in denial about the fact that I split up with her.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Harper making her way towards the door. She got the hint and she’s finally leaving.

  So why do I feel bad?

  It's done the trick because she's going, but a part of me wishes she wasn’t because Athena is talking shit and I'd rather be talking to Harper instead.

  I turn my attention to Athena and bide my time but I keep glancing in Harper’s direction because she’s still talking to Callum.

  It annoys me.

  I should ignore them, but I can’t, and when they both leave together, I narrow my eyes. I don’t want Harper to leave, not with Callum. I excuse myself from Athena, and move to follow Harper, but people stop me along the way. I
talk to them and tell them I’ll be back.

  When I leave the bar, I see that people have spilled out onto the street. This both surprises me and makes me happy, especially when they all turn and get excited to see me. They pat my back, and shake my hand, and shower me with good wishes.

  But I see Harper and Callum talking not too far from me and it’s like a pinprick in my skin. I can ignore it, or I can choose to focus on it, and make it bigger than it is.

  They’re talking, nothing more.

  She’s doing what I did with Athena.

  But this feels like a hundred fucking pinpricks and I know it shouldn’t.

  Harper shouldn’t be a blip on my radar.

  And I hate that she is.

  I should have ignored Nina and never apologized to Harper. I hate that she turned the tables just now. I used Athena, and Harper’s using Callum except she’s not even bothered by Athena, and she has no idea that I’m irritated enough to follow her.

  I blame Callum. That guy is a smooth operator. I’ve seen him work on women before. I also know that Harper wouldn’t be interested in someone like him.

  She’s not, because I’ve seen the way she looks at me.

  Then why does standing here watching her and Callum laugh make me want to walk over and interrupt them?

  I’m about to, except that one of my oldest friends gives me a bear hug.

  And when I look up, Callum and Harper are getting into a cab.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ELI

  * * *

  Thank fuck I don’t have to see her for a few days, and thank fuck my mind’s solely on the training camp.

  We left on Sunday and arrived here late in the evening. Lou tells me that Harper isn’t going to be here for a few days yet, and that’s enough time for me to get my head out of her business, and switch my attention back to my training.

  The six-mile run is easy. I’ve been up since 5:00 a.m., doing my morning exercises. No big change there. Food-wise it’s still lean chicken or tuna, brown rice and pasta, maybe a potato. I’m sick of it, but when I look in the mirror, and when Lou and the guys show me pictures of how I looked even as little as one month ago, I can see the difference.

  It’s huge. I’m chiseled to the max. There’s not a millimeter of saggy skin, or soft muscle on my body.

  Lou has me doing these six-mile runs after each hard training session. He wants to build up my endurance, my stamina, and it helps, but what he doesn’t know is that I was born with stamina.

  Real fighters are made outside the ring, when there are other things at stake and not just a boxer’s purse, not the fame or the adulation. Real fighters are built through necessity, through the need to survive, through the need to keep predators at bay. Strength, boxing, speed, and agility can be learned, and improved upon, but the steel grit, the don’t-mess-with-me attitude, that comes from a deeper place.

  HARPER

  * * *

  “You made it?” Lou asks. He walks out towards me. I called him to let him know I’d arrived, but I didn’t expect him to answer the door. I couldn’t see where to knock or ring the bell, so I called him on his cell phone instead.

  This place is huge. Like colossal. I was half expecting a maid or butler to open the door.

  Lou looks genuinely pleased to see me, though, which eases my worry a little.

  “It was such a long drive, but I made it.” I lift out my small suitcase and pull out the handle, waiting for him to lead the way. “This place is amazing.” I look around at the huge building in front of me. It doesn't look like a home, nestled here high above the hills. It looks like a shiny building from Silicon Valley; like a beetle, with its shiny, hard surface. “This Dwayne Banks guy owns this?”

  “He sure does. And if he plays his cards right, Eli will be living in a place like this before long.”

  I force a smile.

  Eli is very much the underdog. Not many people believe that he can do this. He does. And I do. I believe in him.

  “Come on in, the gang’s all up and it’s business as usual. You’ll have a proper desk all to yourself in your room.”

  “A proper desk, my own room.” I’m secretly thrilled.

  “Let me at least show you around this floor,” he says, “Leave your luggage here. I'll get Margrit to show you to your room later.”

  “Margrit?”

  “My wife. She's the only cook we could afford.” He howls with laughter.

  “Your wife's here?” I exclaim in surprise, and partly relieved knowing that I won't be the only woman, and I might have someone to talk to for the few days I'm here.

  “She's a helluva cook. Garrison might have a nutritionist and a chef, and a twenty-strong entourage to take him through the boxing regimen, but Eli has me and my wife, and a couple of guys from the gym. We’re his support network, and that's what we're here for. I hope you’re here to support him too.”

  I shake my head, confused by this sudden turn in conversation. “Of course.”

  “I hope you’ll do credit to him in what you’re writing. Eli doesn't have the type of money Garrison has. He can't afford a publicist. He has no PR show. Hell, he doesn't even have a nickname—”

  “He’s Chicago’s New Hope.”

  Lou scrunches his face in disapproval. “That’s not a nickname. It sounds like a TV soap opera. You know why he doesn’t have one?”

  “Why?” I never asked Eli this, but I will, next time we get a chance to talk.

  “Because that's not his focus. His focus is on that fight. That's all he wants. The belt, the title. It means a lot to him. It means everything to every boxer who ever went the distance and lost blood for it, but this kid,” Lou waggles a finger at me. He does this every time he wants to make a point, “This kid wants it even more than Dwayne Banks did when he was in his prime and took the title. So make sure you do good by him.”

  “Don't worry. I'll only write good stuff about him.”

  “I need to get back to him. Follow me,” he says and I do. Now I know why he was so pleased to see me. I don’t mind. The knowledge that his wife is here soothes me, and I don’t feel so anxious anymore.

  I follow Lou into the building. Curiosity builds in my belly. It's hard to tell what this place is like inside, and I feel anxious and giddy all at once, knowing that Eli is inside.

  Lou’s phone rings and he steps away to answer it. I stand there feeling nervous. I don't know why I feel like this.

  It's silly, and I shouldn't, but I haven’t seen Eli since that night at the bar, and now I don’t know what I feel; hurt, or jealous, or plain curious. That night when I left Waquito’s, Callum accosted me and we ended up sharing a cab together but only because I assumed he was going to tell me about his days with Eli at the fight club. But as our ride progressed, my head was with Athena and Eli, and Callum’s voice was just background noise. He wanted to go for a drink at another bar, but I wanted to go home and bury my head in my pillow. I was hurting because of Eli. I’m weak when it comes to him. I feel so much for him that my heart hurts to see him with another woman.

  I hate that I, a strong and independent woman, go to pieces when he’s around. I have to get my act together and forget this nonsense.

  I stand in the hallway and look around me, waiting for Lou to finish his call. This place isn’t homey at all. It looks more like an office building. There are floors, and corridors, and doors all around. There's nothing remotely warm and comforting about it.

  I feel cold all of a sudden, and miss the dingy little boxing gym. At least that place had character. Beaten up, with the paper peeling from the walls, and the water leaking in the bathrooms every so often, the gym was like the people it gave home to, like its boxers, its down-and-outs, people who'd been beaten in life and needed a fresh new start, just like the gym needed a fresh new lick of paint and good makeover.

  A trembling feeling floats in my stomach, as if butterflies are skittering inside it. I'm anxious and a little excited. I want to see Eli, and I don�
��t.

  He takes me through another set of double doors which open into a huge gym area. I see two boxing rings, and in the furthest one from me, at the far end, is Eli.

  The hairs on my neck lift.

  I recognize him by his back. It’s funny because I don't see his face, only the back of his head, and he’s sparring with Jake who is almost as built as him so that it could be easy to mix up who is who.

  The tattoo on Eli’s back is a giveaway, and it only confirms what my heart already knows—that is Eli. Even if he didn’t have the ink, I would know that back.

  My breathing slows down, enough that I notice it because my eyes are drawn to his body. He swings out at this opponent, but it’s his muscles my beady eyes narrow in on.

  My fingers tingle. My senses snap, and he's done nothing, yet.

  Yet.

  As if it would ever come to that. I remind myself that I’m supposed to be getting over him; over this crazy, stupid obsession that seems to have consumed me.

  The closest thrill I had was him gripping my wrists in the locker room. What he doesn't know is how I've replayed that scene back hundreds of times since then. And it doesn't end with him walking away naked.

  I don't remember him being so sculpted before, or so big. He seems bigger, and yet I only saw him a few days ago. I think about him when he’s not near me, it’s like I put him on a pedestal and see the better side of him, but when I’m near him, I doubt myself again, and when he looks at me with such loathing, I know I mean nothing to him.

  I can't help that he has this effect on me, but this is not a way to live.

  Eli stops just like that in mid-fight. He turns around and sees me. There's a tiny delay, a micro-second maybe, but it’s enough for his opponent to punch him. Eli falls to the mat.

  “Don't worry about what's going on out here,” Lou shouts. “Think!” He taps a finger to his head. “Now get back in there!”

  But Eli's not looking at Lou. He's staring at me, and he gets up like a cat, slow and stealthy. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t look pleased.