Fighter

by Katie Cross

  How could she not be?

  “What can I do to help you?” I asked.

  Startled, she blinked and tucked a wild strand of hair behind her ear. For whatever reason, it seemed to be the last thing she expected me to say. My own fear kicked in next when tears sprang to her eyes, but I schooled it down. Ava cried all the time, and we'd survived all of those. This would be fine.

  “You really want to know?” she asked.

  I nodded, startled that I didn't feel a rush of panic for whatever I'd just pushed myself into. She wasn't Sadie. Sadie would never come back, but her legacy lived on all the same. Serafina hesitated, but I could tell that all her guards were down. Any usual social etiquette would be shoved to the side, which was exactly the way I felt comfortable in a conversation. When all the crap I wasn't supposed to say didn't hang over my head.

  “Will you stay?” she asked.

  Before my eyes could even widen, she quickly continued. “I just . . . the first time Talmage hit me, it was at night and I didn't see it coming and really could have been an accident. So darkness has been a bit weird. Today was . . . not that . . . and the thought of trying to sleep is a little overwhelming. It's stupid but—” Her gaze dropped and she sighed. “It just feels like I'm not safe. Tomorrow, when I have a clearer head, I'm sure it will be fine. But tonight it's all a little fresh.”

  “Yes.”

  The reply came before I knew it was there, but I didn't regret it. For several moments, she just stared at me. Relief spread through her entire body then.

  “Thank you. You don't have to stay all night, just . . . until I fall asleep?”

  There were so many questions that surfaced right then. Why me? Why did I make a difference? Sure, the whole professional-MMA-fighter thing likely played a part, but I had a feeling it went deeper than that. Serafina had been taking care of herself for years if all the travel stories Maverick had relayed to me meant anything. If I hadn't stopped by, she would have figured it out and been fine.

  So why did she ask?

  “I'll stay, Sera.”

  Something passed through her face then that I couldn't read. “Thank you.”

  Before things could get awkward, she slipped off the bed, turned off the TV, and flicked the lights off. I pulled my jacket off, feeling more comfortable in the dark. Before I could tackle the issue of the single queen bed, she slipped to the other side of the room, tossed half of the duvet my way, and climbed underneath the rest of the blankets. Any random fear I might have harbored that all of this was an elaborate hoax faded. She didn't want me in her bed.

  That had certainly happened before.

  While she settled in, I toed off my shoes and pulled my phone from my pocket. Serafina settled onto her side with her back to me, her wild curls spilling across her pillow in kinky lines. I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling, my thoughts a jumbled mess. Whatever I thought would happen tonight, this wasn't it.

  But this might be better.

  “Benjamin?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you for being my friend.”

  I swallowed and searched for a response, but she didn't seem to need one. Instead, she snuggled deeper into the covers and, with a careful breath, yawned. A little mewl escaped her at the end of the yawn, then quieted.

  She hadn't gone into any details, but her brother must have cracked her pretty good—probably with a solid kick—to leave an injury like that. Not to mention the bruise on her face. What would that be like, to be a woman and hit around by your brother? A lover was one thing. A family member, another. How long had this been happening? Why didn’t her parents do something about it sooner?

  When my entire body tensed, I had to push those thoughts away. Thinking about what Sera endured wasn't going to help me sleep.

  Even though I could reach out and touch her back, she still felt miles away. Twice I opened my mouth to say something, and twice I closed it again. What was there to say? Not much longer after she settled in, her breathing softened into the steady, even cadence of sleep.

  I stayed awake, my thoughts spinning.

  7

  Serafina

  When my eyes opened the next morning, an immediate groan followed. I lay on my back and tried to roll over, but a sharp protest stopped me. Lightning-hot pain spread through my body and ended on my spine. Several seconds passed before it came back under control and I could breathe again.

  Breathe, Serafina, I murmured. Breathe . . . slowly.

  My eyes popped back open when several thoughts crashed into me at once.

  Talmage.

  Hotel.

  Benjamin.

  With heavy morning breath, my head spun over to see an empty bed and ruffled covers next to me. Not sure whether I was relieved, or annoyed, to find him gone, I sank further into the bed. Then I pulled my hair over my face to hide from the world and groaned. Benjamin Mercedy had stayed the night.

  What was I thinking?

  Of course, I hadn't been thinking when I asked him to stay. I'd been scared. Traumatized. The brother I'd always known had been replaced with someone that could have killed me. I already knew that I felt safe around Benjamin, so when he showed up looking so concerned and awkward, I'd broken.

  Like a cracked porcelain doll.

  With a grunt, I shoved out of bed, braced myself against the pain, and took stock of my body. The headache had mostly gone away, but now I felt sore all over. My cheek was swollen, so my eye didn't open all the way. I forced myself to shuffle to the window and open the drapes. A gray sky waited outside, plunking raindrops down the window. I peered out on a quiet parking lot, only a hint of the main road visible. My brain was a mess of thoughts I didn't try to unravel.

  If not here, then where was Benjamin? No note. No text. Just disappeared.

  Probably better that way.

  A hot shower woke me the rest of the way, easing some of my tension and tightness. I popped some more over-the-counter pain relievers once I'd changed into a pair of yoga pants, a t-shirt, and a light blue jacket.

  My phone chimed with a text as I ruffled my hair out over my shoulders to dry.

  Mom: We should be able to fly out Saturday. I’ll keep you posted. Any word?

  * * *

  Serafina: None so far.

  * * *

  Mom: You doing okay?

  * * *

  Serafina: I slept surprisingly well. Thanks. Love you.

  Mom and Dad were flying out as soon as Dad could clear his surgery schedule, which could be a few days. Talmage might only be in the county jail for a day or two, if even that. No doubt Amber would sign him out. He certainly hadn't called me, which was for the best. My mind spun with the implications of everything that happened yesterday. Talmage had been scary, but he wasn't like that all the time.

  When he was Talmage.

  Part of me wanted to see him now that time had passed, but the other part of me recoiled at the same thought.

  He was my brother, though, not my lover. I couldn't just get rid of him or change history or my genetics, and maybe I wouldn't want to. A deep part of me loved Talmage, but a more real part of me feared him now. Because, in some way, this guy wasn't Talmage.

  Noooope, I wasn't ready to see him again.

  Not yet.

  Since I wouldn't work until next week, that left me with five days to find a new place to stay, all while avoiding an inevitable confrontation with Talmage at some point in the future. More than likely, he'd avoid me until our parents came. Then we'd meet again and hash out what moving forward looked like.

  Without me living at his place.

  And maybe without me living in Pineville anymore. That thought didn't sit well either. A mountain summer is exactly what I wanted. Besides, this could be the impetus to change that Talmage needed. With help, he could move forward. With me in a safe environment, Talmage’s recovery was worth working for.

  While standing at the coffee maker, I slowly combed through my tangled mess of hair with great wincing
and muttered curses. Clumps of hair were still tender from being dragged across a room. Once done, I piled all the curls on top of my head, secured them with a few clips, and left them to dry into their own riotous mess.

  A gentle tap came on the door, startling me.

  I padded over, peered out the window, and recoiled in surprise a second time. Benjamin stood outside. His coat covered his head to protect him from the rain. Quickly, I whipped the lock off and pulled the door open. He glanced up, looked me over in a fast glance, and followed my silent hand wave to step inside. Oh yeah. Wild, weird hair. Swollen face. No make-up. Cozy, fat-day clothes.

  Winner day for Serafina over here.

  When he walked past me, arms full of what appeared to be breakfast, he smelled like rain.

  “Hey,” he said, eyeing me as I closed the door behind him. “Feeling better?”

  “A bit sore, but better. Thank you. Did you stay all night?”

  He nodded.

  I tried to infuse all the gratitude in the words that I could manage. “Thank you. It was . . . I needed a friend.”

  He seemed prone to ignoring praise, so he grunted and distracted me by setting a brown paper bag and a coffee cup carrier on the small table on the other side of the room.

  “I brought you some breakfast. And I wasn't sure about your coffee, but I guessed you liked it with more cream and sugar than the average human.”

  “Wise man.”

  He passed me a to-go cup and I had a tentative sip. Warm, not too hot, and perfectly sweetened. He was one macaron away from being my favorite person. Two styrofoam containers came out of the bag next. The smell of eggs, bacon, and butter followed.

  “Wow. Thanks.”

  He handed me a fork. “Seemed like it was my turn to repay the favor.”

  We settled at the table and started to eat. Unlike last night, this silence wasn't burdened. Chewing was fine if I took it slow, although my cheeks ached with the movement. Before I asked how he slept, he broke the quiet. “Can I take you somewhere after we eat breakfast?”

  I'll follow you anywhere, I thought, but asked, “Where?”

  Warm coffee flooded my tongue while he poked an over-medium fried egg piled onto a piece of wheat toast and met my gaze.

  “My brother's coffee shop.”

  “The Frolicking Moose?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why there?”

  He leaned back in his chair, like a panther. For all his relaxed state, he still looked ready to spring. “I want to show you something.”

  “At the coffee shop?” I clarified again.

  He nodded.

  Nothing waited here but a quiet, rainy hotel room, and going anywhere with Benjamin sounded like my favorite day.

  “Sure,” I said. “Sounds like an adventure.”

  The Frolicking Moose was an adorable little coffee shop at the center of Pineville. I'd only been in a few times since they'd renovated from top to bottom. A tragic fire from faulty wiring nearly burned the whole place down. Most people now went through the drive-through, but they'd recently opened back up. Rumors that they might start hosting parties in their expanded back room had started to swirl through town.

  A good party always had my attention.

  A girl named Christabel stood behind the counter of the Frolicking Moose, right next to Ellie, Maverick's adopted daughter. Christabel's gentle auburn hair was cropped short in an adorable pixie cut. Her face lit up as we walked in.

  “Heya!”

  Ellie gave Benjamin a nod in greeting, then her eyes fell to mine. Her gaze wasn't unfriendly but was too intense to be welcoming. While I wouldn't characterize her as a sad person, she certainly had a sense of solemnity about her.

  A binder lay open in front of them, and based on Christabel's glazed look and the assortment of things that cluttered the counter, I'd guess Ellie was training her.

  “Mav said we should expect you.” Ellie tossed a ring of keys his way. Her gaze lingered on my cheek before it darted back to my eyes. A strange curiosity lived there. I met her stare but ignored the question.

  Ben caught the keys easily.

  “Thanks, Elle.”

  Christabel waved as Benjamin walked through a doorway to the right. It led down a short hall with what appeared to be a storage closet on the left and an office on the right—all newly paneled and fresh with the smell of stain. At the end of the hallway was a wrought-iron spiral staircase. Ben put a hand on the railing and started to climb.

  My curiosity got the better of me as I followed him. Once we made it to the top of the stairs, he sidestepped and motioned me forward.

  “This is the new Frolicking Moose loft.”

  Carefully, I ventured into an open floor plan that took up the entirety of the upper floor, which had been turned into a studio apartment. With the expansion below, they had a perfectly-sized place here. It wasn't overly large, but not too small either.

  Windows streamed warm sunlight, while a candle that smelled like cotton lit the far side of the room. A gentle breeze stirred gauzy curtains. There were a few antique-looking pieces of furniture stationed throughout, with some books and blankets strategically placed here and there. In all, it looked like a catalog photo.

  “The furniture is Bethany's thing,” he said with a hint of amusement. “She's a realtor and loves to stage places. They're prepping this to put on the market to rent, which is why she has it all dolled up. She swears the candle increases offers.”

  I laughed, charmed. “I wouldn't doubt it for a second.”

  “Anyway,” his expression sobered, “I was thinking about where you'd be able to stay in Pineville after what happened with your brother. I wondered if you'd want to see it. I asked Maverick and he said he'd hold off on listing if you wanted to apply to rent.”

  My gaze widened. “Seriously?”

  He nodded. “You still have to apply. They'll run your credit and do your background check and all that, but he's willing to give you first dibs. He's . . . fond of you.”

  The words came out like they almost choked him, but I let that go for now. There would be time for analysis later.

  “That's very kind.”

  “It's a six-month lease unless you'd want longer, with a down payment and all that stuff, but it's brand new with the reconstruction. Plus, it's safe.”

  I strolled around the edge of the room to touch the bookshelf, peruse the titles that I'd never heard of. Reading wasn't really my thing. I tried to picture myself here. My life had been nomadic for the last several years. I'd graduated with my associate’s degree at twenty after doing advanced high school classes, tromped over to Europe for three months, and hadn't settled anywhere for longer than nine months ever since. Waitressing jobs, virtual assistant work, even cleaning horse stalls helped me bounce around the world on my whim.

  Which meant that six months sounded just about right.

  I owned no furniture to move in here, except for the few things that I still had at Talmage's. That could be remedied easily enough.

  “Thank you.” I turned to face him. “That was . . . incredibly sweet of you.”

  He ignored that, too. “I don't know what your financial position looks like, either. Mav didn't tell me how much they'll charge on rent, but . . .”

  He trailed off and I felt a big something coming. I paused near a thin, silver refrigerator that purred quietly in the corner. Next to it was a small range, a sink with porcelain spigots, and a cupboard with a few glass cups.

  “But?” I asked.

  He shifted his weight. “I . . . I wanted to see if we could help each other out?”

  “How so?”

  “Ava.”

  The name came out of his mouth like a rolling stone. I'd used it yesterday as if I had the right. He hadn't stopped me, but I had sensed some discomfort on his part.

  “Ava?” I asked.

  “Would you be interested in helping me take care of her?”

  Until that moment, I hadn't realized there had been a slo
w-growing hope in my heart. A traitorous thought that built slowly, like an expanding balloon. One that was inflated by the idea that maybe there was something in that grinchy heart that felt for me.

  But maybe it had just been about Ava.

  For a moment, I stared at him in shock, doubly taken aback by the fact that he likely had never asked such a thing before.

  “What do you mean?” I finally asked.

  He rubbed the back of his neck in a half-grimace. “She gets out of school at 2:30, and the bus drops her off at Bethany and Maverick's house. Most of the time, she's fine there. Bethany is either home with Shane or sometimes Ellie is there. They're sort of her family now. Maybe more than me,” he tacked on as an afterthought, but couldn't hide the woundedness in his tone. “But Bethany is often showing listings and Maverick is doing renovations and Ellie is eighteen and running the coffee shop until her first semester of college starts at the end of the summer. They're busy. While they love Ava, I think she . . . she needs more stability. More . . . attention.”

  He turned to pace now, his tense body swallowing all the open space.

  “When Bethany can watch her at night, she drops Ava off at the gym after they've finished dinner. Then Ava just stays with me at the MMA Center until way too late. She's never home and her life is disorganized, at best. She needs better. She deserves better. And she talked about you the whole way to Maverick's and you're . . . bright and happy and she needs the steady influence and attention of a woman like you in her life.”

  A thousand questions flooded my mind all at once. Where was her mother? Would she be in the picture? What grade was Ava in? But all those I set aside for the bigger picture that really mattered.