by JB Salsbury
“You love the damsel in distress. I’m not her anymore.”
“I love you.”
She huffs. “I’ll drive you crazy with all the reasons why we won’t work out. I’ll push and push, and one day I’ll push you past your limit. You’ll walk away from me, Killian. I know you will.”
I reach to pull her in my arms, to prove to her with my body what I’m trying to communicate with my words, but she shrugs me off and pushes past me.
“Axelle, I won’t.” I make the X across my heart. “I promise.”
She smiles sadly. “Promises don’t mean anything. They’re just words. You’ll walk away eventually. They all do.”
And with that last parting jab, she’s gone.
I guess that’s her answer.
Thirty-four
Axelle
“Are you sure you don’t want to be here?” My mom’s voice sounds in my ear, intensifying my guilt. “If you hurry, you’ll make it in time to catch the announcement.”
“I’m sure. I have a feeling after our talk yesterday he wants nothing to do with me, and I can’t be there when he announces he’s leaving.” It’ll destroy me.
Not that I’d blame him though.
I’d acted like an immature idiot yesterday after we had sex. I ended up stomping straight to my car and calling Vanessa, asking her to cancel my last two appointments, claiming I was sick.
Which was true.
I felt like crap after the way I’d treated Killian.
From the moment we met, he’s been my biggest defender, my protector, and after all he’s done for me, I put him in the same category as men like Stewart, Trip, and Clifford.
If he doesn’t hate me, he should.
I hate myself enough for the both of us.
I half expected him to call or text last night, but he never did. I finally ended up texting him at midnight, apologizing, begging his forgiveness, and asking him to give me another chance. My finger hovered over the Send button when I remembered something he’d said after we’d had sex, as he so callously put it.
I never should’ve listened to you when you told me to go.
If he’d stayed, he wouldn’t be “Quick Kill” McCreery, whose face is gracing the covers of magazines, websites, and every sports network from here to the UK. So do I love him enough to follow through and do what I know is best for him? Or do I hit “send” and allow the one person who’s managed to fill the emptiness every man has ever left behind walk away from his dreams.
For years, he loved me and protected me so I could spread my wings and find my way. I owe him no less. He deserves to be successful, and I’ll have to be content to watch it from afar with the knowledge that for a brief moment in time I had it all. I had his love, his devotion, his time. I owned his heart.
It was on this thought that I didn’t hit “send.”
“So if you’re not coming to the press conference, what will you do?” There’s fear in my mom’s voice, probably from years of watching me drown my problems in booze and random guys.
“I’ll walk around The Miracle Mile shops. Probably grab a bite to eat. Don’t worry about me.”
“I’ll always worry about you.” She sighs. “But especially on…this day.”
I’m grateful she doesn’t say the dreaded V-word. “I’m good. I promise.” My own words flash through my head. A promise is just a word; it doesn’t mean anything. True in this case, because I’m far from good. “I’ll see you at home tonight.”
“Okay, love you.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
I hang up and shove the phone in my purse. The sun is out and warms my shoulders as I pass by shops and restaurants, running my gaze along it all but not seeing what’s in front of me. Instead, my friendship with Killian plays like old home movies behind my eyes.
“Hey…” The kid pushes his shaggy brown hair off his forehead. “I’m Killian.”
I’m sweating, holding my hair off my neck, and panting to catch my breath after the string of curse words I just spewed here in the high-school parking lot. “Elle.”
He pushes his black-rimmed glasses up his nose and studies the broken down Bronco piece of crap. “I don’t mean to be presumptuous. You seem like a capable female, but I can’t help but notice your Millennium Falcon seems to be on the fritz.”
“My what?”
“Star Wars humor.” A blush colors his cheeks and he grins. “Do you need some help?”
I chuckle. I can’t help it. The guy is adorable. “Yeah, I could use a ride.”
“Sure.” His eyes, the color of iced tea, fix on mine. “I can do that.”
I trusted him immediately, and not one time did he ever give me a reason not to. He was the safest boy I ever knew. Even scrawny with his thick-rimmed glasses, I knew he’d do everything in his power to keep me safe. He guarded me and my heart with all the ferocity of a fearless warrior.
The group of guys I recognize from school surround the table Killian and I are sitting at. They’re holding up their phones, laughing, just like they have been from the moment I walked in the coffee shop.
Killian’s been growing tenser, and now that we’re surrounded, his hands are balled into fists, and he’s staring down at his coffee in front of him.
“Elle, right?” The biggest guy gets so close I lean away to keep him from touching me. “You’re new.”
“Yeah.”
Killian looks up at me from beneath his eyelids.
“I was wondering…” His friends at his back all choke on their laughter. “You wanna go out with me?”
“Oh, um…” Usually I’d be flattered that the most popular guy in school asked me out, but the way he’s snorting on his withheld amusement proves this isn’t a genuine invite.
“Back off, Watkins.”
My eyes flick to Killian at the threatening tone of his voice.
The kid, Watkins, ignores Killian’s command. “I just figured…” He turns the phone screen to me, and there in full color is a photo of my mom. Topless.
I gasp and my cheeks flame.
He grins. “If your mom’s this quick to get naked, my guess is you are too.”
The guys all dissolve into a fit of giggles, and like a flash, Killian is up. He tackles the dude who’s twice his size to the ground.
I swing into a bakery and grab a muffin and a water then search for a place to sit. I spot a table across the way that’s half shade and half sun. A shaky smile breaks across my face as I imagine what Kill would say to me if he were here.
“You’re so weird.”
“Newsflash. You’re not exactly perfect either, buddy.”
“Guess that makes us the perfect pair.”
I’d love it when he’d say that because that’s all I ever wanted to be. His perfect match. But then my life would come crashing down around me, reminding me of my insecurities. How could someone like Killian, someone so good and pure, stay with someone like me? I’d chase him off eventually.
Killian steps close, towering over me. “What do you mean Trip’s not calling you back?”
My neck flushes with embarrassment. “It’s no big deal.” I shrug and act unaffected. “He’s probably just busy.”
“How many times have you tried to get in touch with him?”
“Not many. Maybe five.” Fifteen. Eight texts, four phone calls, three emails.
“Five times and he hasn’t gotten back to you?” Killian spits the words through clenched teeth.
I hate it when he looks at me like I’m one of those puppies from that commercial about abused pets with the music that always makes me cry. “It’s okay, Kill. I’ve gone twenty years without him. What’s a few more?”
What’s a few more…?
Killian’s about to leave for five years, and I’m sitting here doing nothing to stop him. I preach that I want to have more control over my life, that I want to take my fate into my own hands, and here I’m reminiscing about my feelings for Killian while at the same time letting him go.
I nearly trip, untangling my legs from the table and chair, and then race the few yards to the street. My arms flail to wave down a cab, and I jump in before he’s even to a complete stop.
“You in a hurry?”
“Yes! I need to get to the UFL Training Center as fast as you can drive.”
He pulls out into traffic and spots me from the rearview mirror. “That’ll cost extra.”
“Fine, I don’t care. Just please, I don’t have a lot of time.”
~*~
Killian
“Mr. Kyle, can you explain why the UFL is sending fighters from the US to train in the UK?”
Cameron sucks his front teeth then leans into the mic, glaring at the poor reporter who asked the question. “It’s not rocket science, Phil. As I said before, it’s like a foreign exchange student program. We send a guy over to train and set up a few fights; they send a guy our way.”
Poor Phil clears his throat, and if I had an ounce of humor in me, I’d laugh. “Um, I understand that, but I guess my question is why?”
“Because I can, Phil. Because it’s fun. Because why the fuck not?” Cam purposefully directs his eyes to the opposite side of the room. “Next question.”
I peer down the table at my London camp then turn to see most of my Vegas camp looking on with anticipation. The great thing about today’s announcement is that, no matter what I decide, I know the guys and girl I fight with will approve. They’ve all expressed their support, and as difficult a decision as this was to make, their backing me up has made it a little easier.
I’ve had to accept the fact that I can’t love Axelle enough for the both of us. It’s possible that what she thought was love for me was only her appreciating me, that the years I spent holding her up and keeping her together made her feel like she should love me.
She doesn’t need me anymore.
The thought makes me as sad as it does proud. I’m happy for Axelle, for her new found independence, that she took her second chance at making a life for herself and fought for everything she wanted.
Even if in that everything there’s no me.
“Enough questions, you guys just keep asking the same ole shit.” Cam looks down the row of fighters. “Let’s get to the announcements.” He grumbles a quick introduction.
“Here we go,” Laise whispers at my side.
I lean forward and adjust my UFL hat before meeting eyes with the crowd of reporters and journalists. “I spent a year in London training with this crew of incredible fighters. I was offered a five-year fighting contract to stay in London, but in order to make that decision, I wanted to come home to Vegas and get some perspective, and what I learned was—”
The back door swings open so hard it bangs against the wall, calling the attention of everyone in the room. It’s too cramped and crowded for me to see who did it.
“What I learned was that after fighting for a year in London, I’m not ready—”
“Killian, no!”
My eyes dart to the cluster of reporters who’re being shoved aside to clear a path.
“Ax?”
She bursts through the crowd, breathing like she ran here, only to get stopped by a rope that holds the media a healthy distance back. “Don’t go, okay?” Her big blue eyes are glued to mine, as if we’re the only people in the room. “Please, just…don’t go.”
“Axelle, honey?” Layla’s standing off to the side, her eyes as wide as mine.
Ax doesn’t acknowledge her mom. “Killian, I thought by letting you go I was doing what was best for you, but I was thinking about everything we’ve been through, and I’m so sick of fighting this pull between us. I’m sick of trying to do the right thing when the right thing feels so wrong.”
“Ax, baby—”
“Because that’s what a life apart from you is, Kill. It’s wrong. We were on to something those few days before you left, and I thought sending you away was the right thing. I’ve spent the last five years searching for something, and all this time you’ve been right in front of me. You were my bright light, Kill. I didn’t realize how bright until you were gone and the darkness was so thick I thought I’d never be free of it. But I got out, I did it, and doing it on my own didn’t make me miss you any less.”
“What’re you saying?”
“It’s like that story you told me, the one about the woman who jumped from the Eiffel Tower?” She laughs as a single tear rolls down her cheek. “I’ve jumped. I’m free falling, and I’m so scared you’re not going to be there to catch me.”
The room erupts in flash bulbs and whispers, but none of it matters.
My girl, my woman, Axelle…she wants me. She interrupted an international press conference to stop me from leaving. I would’ve settled for a text.
Without a coherent thought beyond getting closer to her, I hurdle the table and cross to her. I stop just shy of her, and my arms tense at my sides. “I’ll always catch you, Ax.”
She lunges at me with the force of a girl falling, and I easily lift her into my arms.
“Baby, I—”
Her lips crash against mine with an eagerness I’ve never felt from her before and one that matches my own. Cameras pop all around us along with whispers that remind me we’re far from alone.
I kiss along her jaw to her neck. “We’ll have to finish this later.”
Her cheeks pink and she nods. I place her feet back to the ground and grip her hand, pulling her back to my seat with me.
“Killian, does this mean you’re staying in Vegas?”
“Are you taking her with you to London?”
“Calm the hell down,” Cam growls into the microphone. “Let the guy get to his seat, and I’m sure he’ll answer your questions.”
I step around the table, dragging Axelle behind me, and earn smiles of approval from everyone on my team, even Fleur. When I’m back to my spot, I drop down and pull Axelle into my lap. “Right, so as I was saying, I wanted to come back to Vegas to get some perspective, and what I learned was”—I lock eyes with Axelle and she shifts on my lap, her gaze unsure—“I’m not going anywhere.”
Gasps are followed by murmurs and then questions, but I ignore them all and continue.
“I would never be where I am today if it weren’t for my team here in Vegas.” I shift my eyes around the room and find Jonah, his arms crossed over his chest and a knowing grin on his face. “Jonah believed in me before anyone else even knew I existed, and I mean anyone. I owe everything I have to him”—I squeeze Axelle tight and turn back to her—“and this woman right here. I loved my time in London, and I’m not saying I’ll never go back, but my family is in Vegas, and this is where I’m staying.”
A reporter stands. “Are you afraid the choice to stay will hurt your career?”
“Have you seen the kid fight?” Cam’s eyes narrow at the guy. “He could be fighting in Timbuktu and dominate.” He nods to another reporter.
“Killian, can you give us the name of this woman you’re staying for?”
Cam growls into the mic. “Let’s keep the questions to fighting—”
“Cam, it’s okay.” I stare at Axelle, who seems more than a little uncomfortable with all the eyes on her. “Can we make it official?”
Her face breaks into a brilliant smile and she nods. “Yes.”
I lean close to the mic to make sure I’m heard. “This is Axelle Daniels, daughter of Blake and Layla Daniels. I’m gonna ask politely that you leave her alone. Any questions you have I’ll be happy to answer, but she’s off limits to—”
“You don’t need to protect me, Kill.” Her lips are at my ear. “I can handle a lot more than you give me credit for.”
“I know you can, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Fight me all you want, but you can’t fight the inevitable.”
“Quick Kill
! Can you tell us who you’re fighting next?”
“Is it true you’re going to fight T-Rex?”
“Any plans on going for the title?”
Cameron introduces the London team, and they each get an opportunity to answer questions while I hold Axelle on my lap, praying this will end quickly so I can get her somewhere more private. There’s still so much to say, and I can’t wait another second to say it all.
~*~
Axelle
With the press finally satisfied, Cam wraps up the conference. Before the microphones are even turned off, Killian pulls me through the crowd, dodging reporters until we’re in the hallway of the training center. He looks in both directions before hauling me off to the left.
“Where are we going?” I can’t help but laugh as he frantically grabs at door handles until he finds one open.
He throws the door wide, pulls me in to a small office with a generic table and chairs, then closes and locks it behind us. It’s then I notice he’s not dressed in the fancy clothes I’ve seen him in before. He’s wearing a pair of worn jeans that hug his lean thighs, paired with a brown T-shirt that says, Come to the GEEK side. We have Pi.
His eyes lock on mine, and it takes everything I have to not back up a step as he comes toward me.
“Killian?” I blink and unease slides through me. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”
“You jumped for me.” His voice is husky.
“I did.” I can’t take my eyes off his face. The firm set of his jaw and the bronze-color of his eyes almost twinkle with what I confused earlier with anger, but now I recognize as hunger.
“You know what today is, right?”
I don’t answer because he knows I’m aware today is Valentine’s Day, the most hated day of the year. Until now.
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “We’re making new memories, starting now, baby.”
“You’re really staying?”
“Of course. Don’t act so surprised. You heard Cam. I could fight in Timbuktu.”
“It’s nice to see your ego’s still intact.”
