Laid Out

by Sidney Halston

  “I cannot believe you’re here,” Jack said in a tight voice. “Yesterday you felt like shit and today you’re in a fucking shady ass place like this! You didn’t even tell me about it.”

  “You’re a cop—you would’ve made a big deal about it,” Chrissy retorted. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “Making sure no one gets hurt. I’m trying to stay under the radar, but you all being here is not helping.” He turned to address the men. “I’m taking Chrissy and heading out. Keep me updated.” He, Slade, Travis, and Tony tapped fists, and then he left with Chrissy before Violet had a chance to say anything.

  “And you two dumbass women?” Travis said to Violet and JL. “This is dangerous. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I don’t know,” Violet admitted. “I’m a nurse, so if something happens I can help. Or maybe I could’ve talked him out of it. I don’t know. I needed to be here, okay?”

  “If he sees you, he’ll get distracted.”

  At that moment Violet saw Cain. It was as if the noise and lights and smells surrounding her disappeared, and all she could focus on was him. Beneath the stoicism he wore like a mask she saw the sadness on his face, a sadness that she’d give anything to see disappear.

  “Look, he’s coming out,” JL whispered.

  “Stay quiet and don’t draw attention to yourself.” Travis pulled his sister and Violet close. Just then a guy walked by, whistled at JL, and made an obscene gesture.

  JL opened her mouth to retort, but Francesca stepped in front of her and faced the man. “Unless you want that tongue shoved inside your ass, I suggest you leave her the fuck alone.”

  When the man saw Tony looming behind her, he skulked away.

  “What’s so hard to understand about stay quiet?” Tony said to his wife.

  At that moment the referee said something in a language Violet couldn’t understand. “What’s he saying?”

  “Sugar, you think I understand Russian?” Travis said as he patted Violet’s head. “You’re cute.”

  Violet rolled her eyes and turned back to the ominous-looking cage. Cain’s hair was slicked tightly back, and he looked very focused. He was wearing black shorts and no shirt and was walking beside another guy, someone Violet didn’t recognize. The guy said something to Cain, who nodded. A moment later, to cheering from the crowd, a short and stocky man came into the cage. He was much shorter than Cain but much wider. He had ripples and ripples of muscles, and he walked as if the bulk in his arms precluded him from straightening them. His thick thighs bulged out of red shorts. He had a hairy chest, and when he turned around Violet saw that his back looked much the same. But his face and head were void of hair.

  “Oh, shit!” Francesca muttered. “He’s fighting Popeye.”

  “Yeah, he does look like Popeye,” JL agreed.

  “The name’s not really because of his looks,” Francesca explained. “It’s because of some green shit he shoots up—like Popeye’s spinach. He got kicked out of the UFC for using. I heard that whatever it is, it makes him go all fucking loony and beat shit up.”

  “Oh my God,” Violet said, eyes wide. “Do the people that run this know this?”

  “Darlin’, the people running this place are probably his suppliers,” Travis told her.

  Violet turned to Tony. “You’re his friend. Tell me the truth. Is he equipped for this? I can jump in there and beg him to stop.”

  “Are you fucking outta your mind?” Slade interjected.

  “These Russians will kill you for getting between them and their money,” Francesca said, agreeing with him.

  “Come stand here, darlin’,” Travis said soothingly. “Try to relax.”

  “Why are you guys even here?” JL asked the men.

  “We’re going to kick Cain’s ass when he’s finished,” Slade said. “We didn’t want him fighting.”

  “More like an intervention,” Travis said.

  “Intervention?”

  “Sugar, your boyfriend is self-destructive. He’s a professional fighter—he doesn’t need to fight in this sort of underground match.”

  Self-destructive? “Did he get that black eye from one of these fights or from sparring at the Academy?” Violet asked.

  “What do you think?” Slade said.

  “Why didn’t you tell me anything?” Francesca asked, sounding frustrated. “It’s my Academy too. I should know about these things.”

  “You’ve been busy with law school. Didn’t want to worry you,” Tony said.

  “He’s leaving. Did you guys know that? He took a job somewhere overseas. Something unsafe,” Violet added, all of a sudden wanting to shake her tall Viking.

  “I think it’s PTSD.”

  Just then the bell rang, and Violet’s attention shifted to the cage. Popeye planted himself in the middle of the cage, forcing Cain to circle around him. Cain didn’t seem worried, although he did look focused.

  Cain attacked first by launching himself toward the man’s middle, but Popeye didn’t even budge. Instead he kneed Cain in the chest.

  “Oh, God!” Violet gasped as she saw Cain right himself.

  Cain resumed circling Popeye, who threw a few punches, missing each time. The man didn’t seem to be expending any kind of energy; his feet were flat on the floor as he pivoted slightly to keep his front to Cain, who moved around him. Cain landed a kick to the man’s thigh, the sound of the contact reverberating around the room but it seemed to have caused more pain to Cain’s foot than to Popeye’s thigh. Then the first bell rang, and Popeye slowly walked to one side and Cain to the other.

  “He’s a brick wall,” Slade whispered.

  “Yeah, Cain’s going to have to hit him on the face—repeatedly,” Tony said. Violet closed her eyes and said a silent prayer to keep Cain safe.

  The bell rang, and Cain stood up, still looking confident. Again he circled the man, but this time he threw a series of combination punches. A few landed, and if it hadn’t been for a twitch in Popeye’s face, Violet wouldn’t have thought he felt any of them. Then Cain threw a punch that looked lazy; Violet didn’t understand what it meant, but the man lost his footing and Cain took the opportunity to again launch a blow to his midsection.

  “Stay up. Stay up,” Violet whispered, her hands over her mouth.

  “He’s a professional jiu jitsu fighter,” Travis reminded her. “He’s better on the floor.”

  Violet looked at Travis for a moment before turning back to the cage and whispering, “Get on the floor. Get on the floor.”

  “That was impressive,” Tony noted. “Cain distracted him enough to get him to let his guard down.” Just then Popeye’s knees gave way, and he fell to the ground. Immediately Cain twisted and turned until Popeye’s arm was extended in such a way that either he would fall completely to the floor or his arm would break. Smart man that Popeye was, he went down and tried to quickly flip, but Cain was faster and got the man pinned to the ground, his forearm pressed against Popeye’s throat. But Popeye was strong and moved just enough to push Cain out of the way. Cain retaliated by grabbing the man’s arm and hyperextending it across his body. The crowd roared, Violet closed her eyes, and Frances cheered. The referee yelled something in Russian as Popeye whimpered in pain, his shoulder visibly dislocated. Cain had won the match.

  Cain was bent over taking deep breaths, his eyes closed and his hands on his knees. His hands hurt like a bitch, but other than that he felt fine, although he was sure he’d have bruises all over the place tomorrow. He turned his head slightly to the side and did a double take. God, he was so fucked up he was seeing visions of Violet.

  The vision approached, and as she got closer he stood straighter and walked to the fence. “Vi?”

  She grabbed the fence, her eyes teary. “Are you okay?”

  “Violet?” he repeated, as if he couldn’t believe it was her.

  “I…Cain, are you okay?”

  He grabbed the fence and she leaned closer.

  “I’m fine.” He car
essed her cheek with a finger through the small holes on the fence. “You’re here? Alone? Don’t move.”

  Before she had a chance to explain, he unlocked the fence, jumped down, and ran to her. “Your shoes.” She pointed to the floor.

  “Iggy has them. But I don’t care about that. You can’t be here.” He wiped his brow with the back of his hand.

  “Nice ass,” some guy hollered behind Violet, but when he got a look at Cain’s death glare, he walked away.

  Cain’s nostrils flared. “Home. Now,” he said as he took hold of her hand.

  “No, wait!” She pointed behind her.

  “Damn it,” Cain said when he looked at the group standing a few feet behind him. He didn’t want to talk to them. To any of them. He pulled Violet toward Tony. “I cannot fucking believe you brought Violet here.”

  Tony squared his shoulders. “Brother, you think I’d bring your girl here? What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Why are you here?” Cain said, looking at Slade, Tony, and Travis.

  “We have to talk,” Slade said.

  “Your shoes.” The man Violet had seen earlier with Cain handed him his sneakers. “You must be Violet. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “I…uh…you have?”

  “I’m Iggy. I work with Cain. Cain, my man, you did great. Yuri’s looking for you.”

  “Take her home,” Cain said to Tony, with a nod of his head toward Violet.

  “We’ll wait for you outside,” replied Tony.

  Cain took a step closer to Tony. “I said, take her home.” The best friends stood nose to nose in a standoff.

  “Oh, put your dicks away,” Francesca said, getting in between the two. “You.” She pointed at Cain. “My office tomorrow at nine in the morning, or you’re out of my Academy.” She took Violet’s and Tony’s hands and dragged them out.

  Violet looked over her shoulder at Cain, who stood there with his nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed, and then turned and walked away.

  The first five minutes of the car ride consisted of Tony yelling about how dumb and careless they’d been and how we weren’t allowed to ever return to a fight, making Violet and Frances actually promise—out loud—they wouldn’t do it. Violet tuned out everything after that, since Tony was yelling in Spanish, Francesca was replying in Portuguese, and Violet was 100 percent sure they didn’t understand each other.

  As soon as she closed the door and saw Tony leave through her curtains, she got in her car and went to Cain’s house. She slid down to the ground and waited by his front door. She had her eyes closed and her head against the wall when he finally arrived.

  “You’re supposed to be home,” he said, extending his hand to help her to her feet.

  “I have to talk to you.” She walked right in as soon as he unlocked the door.

  “Nothing more to talk about.” He closed the door behind her and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

  She went to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee as she waited. He was not going to kick her out. He was going to listen. He had to listen!

  She was sitting on his bed, sipping coffee, when he walked out.

  He didn’t acknowledge her; instead he began to open drawers and stuff clothes into his big army-issue duffle bag. It reminded her of watching him and Jeremy pack all those years ago, and brought back terrible memories. The last time she’d seen Jeremy he had been packing.

  She looked at what he was doing, took a shirt out of his hand, and tossed it on the bed. “Don’t leave again. Stay.”

  “I have to. I made a commitment.”

  She put her coffee down and walked around the room. “Remember when you told me that I find faults in men because I’m trying to break it off with them before we get intimate? Because I’m scared of sex and I’m not experienced? Well, I lied. I know exactly why I find faults in other men. It took me some time to figure it out, but I did. Finally, I did.”

  She waited for him to acknowledge her. To say something. But obviously all his words had been used up already, because he just sat there looking impatient for her to finish. “Like you, I thought it was because I was insecure or inexperienced. But it’s not that. It’s because they’re not you. I don’t find any faults in you. And God, you have a boatload of faults. But I’m apparently blind when it comes to you.”

  “What?” He stopped what he was doing and looked at her.

  “You walked out after Jeremy died. You moved away. Then I came here and you walked out again and went to Libya. Then two days ago you said a lot of things and then you walked away again. And now here we are again. You’re going to leave—again! I should tell you I’m done with this bullshit, but I can’t because I will always forgive you. I can’t help it. Last time you got a lot of stuff off your chest and left. Now you’re going to listen to me. It’s my turn to talk.”

  “Violet…” he warned.

  “No. Listen to me. You rejected me. We kissed, it was magical, and you never did anything about it. Now—now!—I come to find out that you love me? You’ve loved me for, what, fifteen years? So why can’t you do something about it now? Why does one of us have to leave? Why can’t we just be together? I don’t understand.”

  “You’re Jeremy’s girl.”

  “Was! Cain, I was Jeremy’s fiancée.” She stepped closer and held his face in her hands. “Honey, you have to let it go. I have. It’s hard. I know it is, but he’s not coming back. He wouldn’t want to see you suffering. He would’ve wanted you to be happy even if that meant being with me.”

  “I can’t!” he roared. “I can’t!”

  “Why not?” she sobbed.

  “Because I killed Jeremy!”

  It was as if she’d been punched in the stomach. She physically took a step back.

  “I was supposed to have his back. I was supposed to, but we had an argument that day. The only argument we’d ever had, and I let him walk out. He left so pissed, and then that night…”

  “Oh, Cain.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “It’s not your faul—”

  He shifted away from her touch. “Don’t say it’s not my fault. It’s my fault, Vi. We were fighting about you and he wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t thinking. I should have had his back!”

  “Cain. Please. This is me. Me! Violet. I didn’t know until a few hours ago how much I needed to know you loved me. What are you so scared of?”

  “I don’t share. I don’t do emotions. Never have. I was taught men don’t show emotions. How is it that we grew up with fathers who never showed emotions and you can’t help but say every last thing in your heart and I can’t seem to say one single thing? The only fucking thing that scares me, Violet, the one thing in this whole big world that scares me, is that you won’t ever love me.”

  She took his face in her hands, stared at him, and whispered, “It scares me that you don’t already know that I do.”

  “Violet…”

  “I didn’t even realize how in love I am with you until this morning. But now that I know, you can’t take that away from me. From yourself. Look at me. I’m the same girl who’s loved you her whole entire life. Maybe I didn’t know I was in love with you until now, but that’s just because I was too blind to see it. If Jeremy was standing right here right now and I had to pick, I’d pick you.”

  “Don’t say that!”

  “You have to let me love you, Cain. You have to. I know that I sound completely childish and stupid begging you to give us a chance, but I don’t care. Not anymore. Jer would’ve wanted us to be happy. I can’t breathe without you. You keep leaving me and I can’t breathe when you’re gone. And that isn’t a feeling you have when a friend leaves. It’s a feeling you have when the person you’re in love with leaves. Ask anyone—I’m miserable when you’re away.” Her tears flowed freely, her nose ran, and her chin quivered. “This stupid game we’ve been playing, these nights I’ve slept in your arms, my face pressed against your chest, listening to your heart beat…it’s the best I’ve slept in yea
rs. I feel whole. I feel like I’m home. Don’t leave me again, please. And while we’re talking about crazy things, stop all of this fighting before you get really hurt.”

  “We can’t, Violet. I’m not good enough for you. I bring out the worst in you. We argue. I’m jealous. But most importantly, I will never be able to love you the way you need to be loved because I’m all fucked up with guilt. It’ll never work out. Jeremy is…I just…I have to go.”

  She clutched her chest and sobbed. “If you leave again, I won’t wait. I won’t. I didn’t stand up to Jeremy like I should’ve when he reenlisted. I won’t watch the only other person I’ve ever loved destroy himself. Don’t do this to me. Please,” she begged.

  She saw his hardened face and the resolve in his eyes. It was the same look he’d given her twelve years ago. “Trust me, this is for the best.”

  “Then I’m done. I’m done letting you treat me like crap. I’m done caring whether you’re hurt or alive. I’m done being your doormat. I am done!” she yelled, and stomped out of his house, slamming the door behind her.

  Chapter 17

  “Hey, JL,” Violet said as she walked into her apartment after a long day of work.

  “Hi, chick,” JL said as she fed Bird. “Don’t you fucking bite me, asshole.”

  “Asshole. Asshole. Asshole.”

  Violet laughed.

  JL turned around abruptly. “What the hell was that?”

  Startled at her tone, Violet looked around. “What?”

  “Did you just laugh? I haven’t heard you laugh in three months.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It is,” JL said, throwing herself onto the couch.

  “Sorry if I’ve been kind of down,” Violet said, plopping down next to JL, her feet on JL’s lap.

  “It’s okay. I get it, but I hope you snap out of it soon.”

  “Honestly, if he’d just never spoken to me again, I think I would kind of understand. But, the fact that Cain not only left me again but ran to a battlefield…what if he’s—”

  “Don’t even think that.”

  “But I’ll never even know if something were to—”