Fierce

by L. G. Kelso

  I laughed. Probably not the best reaction, but I couldn't help it. Max looked at me, his eyes narrowed and curious.

  "What would you have said if you walked into that?"

  And speaking of that, I still needed to figure out what exactly that was.

  "I don't know. He could have snuck out or something and pretended not to see it. That would have been the more gentlemanly way."

  "You're a dork."

  "I don't understand why you're not more upset by his 'girls only with girls' thing? I mean, I get that it's tradition in some of the jits gyms. But this isn't just jits, and you're the only girl here."

  "Because I just had the best make-out session of my life. Because I just got to do what I've wanted to do... Er, I mean. Well. Because I like you a lot, Max, and I never thought I'd feel the way I did and the way I do now." My finger started at the hollow where his collarbone met, and I traced it down, between the hard lines of muscle.

  Each movement of my finger seemed to ease some of his tension, and his arms fell to his sides once my finger reached them. His shoulders relaxed, and by the time my finger reached the waistband of his boxing shorts, his hands clutched my shoulders and he kissed me.

  "Where did all of this come from?" I asked when our lips broke apart.

  "All this?"

  I gestured between us and then to the ground. "This and that."

  "Oh." He shrugged. "I don't know. It's your fault."

  "How is this my fault?"

  "For being so amazing."

  I smiled and then sighed. Nick stood near the wall, staring at all old picture. I couldn't remember the image on the picture, and that bothered me. I remembered everything that littered these walls.

  "You look hot," Max said. His cheeks flushed. "I mean, like, overheating hot. Like you could use some water or a sports drink. I mean, you're hot hot also, of course."

  My cheeks warmed. I wasn't usually the hot girl.

  "I have some in my bag," he said.

  "I have water." Although, something with a little sugar and salt sounded like a good idea. The room had started to take on a queasy effect. That was what I got for not hydrating as much as I should have this morning.

  "Well, if you want something with electrolytes, it's in my gym bag in the locker room."

  I looked toward the locker room. I hadn't been in them since I started working at the gym. They were so close to the cage, and every time I looked at them, I saw the image of staring up at the door to the lockers, through the metal cage and with blood obscuring my vision.

  I straightened my shoulders. I could deal with the cage. It was an inanimate thing for fucks sake.

  "Yeah, okay," I said. "Thank you. Do you want one?"

  "Sure. Thanks." He smiled.

  My determined stride slowed as I neared the cage. I hadn't been in there since that one day with Max, even though I should have been. We should have worked in there more, but Jeff seemed to avoid it when it came to me. I took a breath and marched past it.

  I pushed open the door that led to the two locker rooms. The boy's locker room was a little ways down, on the right. The narrow hallway ended in the girl's locker room, which used to be a janitor closet.

  I reached my hand out until I felt the string. I tugged and the light turned on. This was the oldest part of the warehouse, and while Jeff had always wanted to update it, the gym equipment came first.

  The buzz from the light infiltrated my ears. I had never understood if the light was freakishly loud, or if the rest of the gym had been so silent that night. Either way, the buzz had been audible, along with the drip drip drip of blood.

  I cleared away the lump in my throat and walked to the boy's locker room. The front door dinged in the distance. Muted mumbles followed.

  I pushed open the swinging door. I rubbed my scar, trailing my fingers over the jagged tissue, as I entered the room. I scanned the area for a gym bag and spotted it in the right corner.

  I reached his bag and pulled out two sports drinks. I hesitated for a minute when I saw the novel in the bag, and grinned. After reading the back blurb of the book and deciding I'd have to read it if I ever had free time again, I walked back across to the door.

  Free time. That was funny.

  The buzz of the lightbulb filled the area, and the overwhelming feeling of helplessness and hope I had that night tried to suck me back in. It had just buzzed and buzzed, spilling slits of light into the dark cage.

  I had to stop being such a baby. I pushed the feeling away. It wasn't as if I was going to run into the monster. Not anymore.

  I pushed the door open, and let out my breath as I left the locker room.

  The scream escaped my throat before it closed off, before my breathing stopped and my lungs clamped down.

  Bright blue eyes regarded me, looking down a few inches. Spiky blond hair on top of light skin, full lips opened in...surprise?

  What was happening? Was this another dream?

  Figures. The best kiss, well second to last night's kiss, would be a freaking dream.

  I didn't want that to be only my dreams, but I could not be standing here, next to him.

  He wasn't supposed to be here.

  The apprehension in my chest exploded throughout the rest of my body; the pit of nerves clawed through my lungs and wrapped around my bronchioles. Air, I needed air. My gut told me to move fast, but his freakishly enormous shoulders and chest blocked the narrow path.

  "You're not supposed to be here." My voice sounded so shaky that I wanted to punch myself.

  "I didn't think you would be here," he said.

  I pushed down the bile that boiled in my stomach and lurched up my throat.

  "You need to leave," I said.

  Maybe if I hurled on him he would get distracted and I could squeeze past him. Then again, the psychotic that was Will would probably somehow enjoy that.

  He took a step forward. His blue cotton shirt stretched tightly across his chest, making me feel tiny.

  My feet didn't want to move. Work, feet, work.

  "I can't. My coach is here until my next fight."

  "Jeff won't allow you to be here." God, why couldn't I make eye contact with him? I stared at the wall next to us like a coward.

  "Jeff isn't here. You want to bug him while he's with his dying cousin, go right ahead."

  "Just get out of my way, Will."

  He put his hand against the wall, next to my head as he leaned down. I knew his eyes were on me, seeing past me. Seeing the real Tori that couldn't help herself, the Tori that he had brought out to the world.

  His hot breath, laced with green chili, drifted across my face as he talked. "Tori, it's been so long. How have you been? I thought you had quit fighting after you got that nasty KO and your knee ripped apart."

  "Well, I'm back." I ventured a look up, and met his gaze, inches from mine.

  "I see that."

  Cool air wafted across the skin on my legs as the door opened.

  "Tori?"

  Will straightened, pulling his hand off the wall. His arm fell away, and I inhaled as though I had been in need of air for far too long.

  I wanted to sink to the ground, to crawl into the wall and hide. However, my eyes landed on Will's shoulders, tight and cocky as he regarded Max, and a chunk of anger broke off the pit of hatred in my gut. I met Max's eyes, and smiled as I thought about punching Will in the side of the head.

  Whatever makes you smile, right?

  I also took the opportunity to hurry by Will, squishing myself between his arm and the wall, and get myself closer to Max and the exit.

  "You two know each other?" Max asked.

  "A little," Will said.

  I grabbed Max's hand and left the hallway as I said, "Yeah. A little."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Shane stood talking to Nick when Max and I walked back to the mats. I'm not sure how I got there. Autopilot was full on, and I still clutched Max's hand when we stopped next to Shane. I didn't realize until Shane
looked at us and gave Max a wink and a grin. His exposed deltoid tensed, ready for me to punch him. I didn't, and his grin turned to a frown.

  I couldn't think about it.

  Nick asked Max and Shane to go over a few things with him. I heard the voices but nothing made sense. Just noise.

  What was happening? Why was he here? He wasn't supposed to be here.

  "Tor. Tori?"

  "Yo, Tori." Shane's hand swatted at my ponytail.

  "Yeah?" I answered after clearing the dry lump in my throat.

  "Can you warm my boy up there?" Nick asked. "I want to go over a few of my coaching basics with these two, and he needs to get his heart rate up. I don't usually pair females and males, but you'll have to do for now."

  I looked at where Nick's chin jutted to. Will bounced lightly in the cage, stretching his neck and shadowboxing.

  No. No way was I stepping in there.

  Will smiled.

  "In there? With him?" My thoughts poured the words from my lips. I turned away. I would go home. Forget this.

  "And this is why none of my fighters are girls. Go home, Tori, if you can't be helpful."

  Oh no. Not forget this, but fuck you.

  The old Tori would have beat me if I walked out that door. I'd fought to be able to do this. I worked in every way I could to stop the prejudice. I worked to prove jerks like this that they had their heads up their asses.

  "Fine."

  "Grab mitts. I want him doing mitts with you."

  I snagged a pair of mitts off the wall and marched to the cage. I stopped outside the door. Will moved inside like a monster in his den, waiting to destroy whatever entered. He ran through a combination and then sprawled against the mat.

  I would have rather walked into a lion's cage.

  "She'll be fine with this," Shane said. "She's got it."

  "You have the hots for her too?" Nick asked.

  "What? No."

  Their words did nothing to aid the illness coursing through my body. Will grinned but the calculation was already underway, evident underneath the pale blue hues of his eyes that covered up the cold anger that propelled him in everything he did. At one time, he covered it up well. Maybe he still did. Maybe it was just that I had seen the monster underneath, and nothing could ever hide him again.

  He was pissed that I was even in here with him.

  You're not good enough for this. You don't deserve this. Your place isn't in the ring.

  I cut off the words before his statement finished in my memory.

  "You going to get started or not?" Nick called out.

  I let out the breath I held, opened the door, and stepped into the cage.

  "Oh, the memories I have in here," Will said. "Some of the best."

  I couldn't get my mouth to work to tell him how much I hated him. Maybe I would be able to work with him if the door stayed unlocked—

  "Lock us in, please," Will called, never taking his eyes off me.

  "No!" I spun around, but Nick already had hold of the key.

  Chink. My heart thudded along with the key as it dropped through the latch.

  "Tori? What's wrong?" Max called to me, still halfway across the gym.

  I hit the cage with the side of my mitt in an attempt to will away the panic bubbling up my throat, threatening to make me sob.

  I was not a crier.

  "Tori? Do you want out?" Max's voice again. This time it sounded a little closer.

  I almost nodded, but then I heard Will say, "Of course she does."

  Swallowing, I shook my head and turned to face Will. I raised the mitts and called out a simple jab, cross, jab, cross.

  His jab hit my mitt. I hit back, as I needed to, to decrease the impact as the mitt caught the punch.

  I could do this. I could do this.

  His cross smashed into the mitt. Another jab, followed by another powerful cross.

  I called another combination. Thank God they were muscle memory, since my brain wasn't working. His speed increased. A series of jabs and crosses, one after the other came at me. The punches collided with the mitts, but his hook knocked my hand back, putting torque in my elbow.

  Shit.

  I wasn't holding like I should have been. My hands were cold and tingly. Tight knots caused physical pain in my chest, burning with an acidity that spread throughout my core and up my throat.

  Don't puke. Don't puke. Just don't puke.

  I didn't fear the pain the most right then; pain was part of this, part of what I did. No, it was the inability to do anything. The inability to defend, the inability to move. No control. Everything that I had always thought—I was safe, I was a fighter, I could take care of myself—was kicked to smithereens.

  The room around Will started to peel away, chunks of ceiling and wall disappearing entirely. Phantom pain shot up my spine, pulsed in my scar, danced in my bones and played games with my mind.

  In an instant, the past had me.

  One of his jabs broke through my elbows—too weak in the elbows—and his fist smashed into my face repeatedly. My fingers wrapped on the frame, shook the door. It would only budge an inch, maybe two. I caught sight of his face. Cold, hard, needing to prove himself to me, to him, to everyone. The sick twist of a smile that graced his face once he had realized he was winning. From the force, my temple smacked into the frame of the door.

  Unable to move. Unable to help myself.

  Frozen.

  I had the mitts up, but I didn't call anything. Yet, his cross and jab hit the mitts. There were voices, but it all blurred. I tried to remind myself of the present, but my arms shook too much to keep them up, and then I slipped back to another time and forget what I was doing. The air felt too thin, and as if I couldn't get enough of it. I sucked in breath after breath, but the air wouldn't go deep enough. The cage and mat spun around me as my vision turned dark.

  Will prowled toward me.

  His fist again and again.

  I turned and banged on the cage door.

  Heavy weight. Going down.

  "Let me out, let me out."

  Everything kept spinning as I screamed and pounded on the metal.

  "Open the damn door!" Max's voice broke through the fog of panic.

  "I thought you said she could handle it? She can't even handle mitts without a meltdown." Nick's voice came from somewhere, but it sounded so far.

  The door gave way under my forearms and I fell forward into someone's arms. "Tori, take a deep breath. And look at me."

  I blinked. Black spots still dotted my vision, but Max's face was in view, close to mine. His hands gripped my shoulders. I focused on the feel, the tight hold, and the slight discomfort from it. I wasn't there. I was here.

  And I had frozen again. However, this time it wasn't a match and my knee didn't get ripped apart.

  No, this was worse.

  Because it was with Will and it was freaking mitt work, not even sparring. It was in front of two of my friends, and a guy who needed to know that women could fight.

  But maybe this one really couldn't anymore.

  "You all right?"

  I nodded.

  "Honestly? That...that wasn't like you."

  "Maybe that's the truth," I whispered, so only he could hear. "Maybe that is me now. Maybe there is nothing I can do about it."

  Will's glare and hard jaw stood out behind Max's shoulder. He stepped out of the octagon and walked to Nick's side. "The more and more I do this," he said to Nick, "the more and more I agree with you. This isn't a sport for women."

  "You two couldn't be more wrong," Shane said. He looked at me, but I couldn't meet his gaze. "Now, we gonna start training or what?"

  Thank you, Shane. He knew exactly what I needed.

  "I need to go," I said as soon as my vision cleared and my respiratory rate slowed some. I pulled myself from Max's grip and darted away before he could do anything. I glanced over my shoulder against my better judgment. Max stood, arms crossed, studying Will. Will didn't seem to notic
e. Instead, he smiled at me.

  I pivoted on my heel and bolted from the gym.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  My skin had gone numb quite some time ago. The water had gone from hot to lukewarm to freezing a little before the numbness kicked in. But I didn't care.

  The porcelain of the bathtub matched the cold temperature of the water that lapped over it, raining down from the shower and over my head and my skin. My back leaned against the tub, using the slick surface in an attempt to keep myself grounded. My tears melded into the streaks from the showerhead, and I couldn't really tell if I was still crying or not.

  I hadn't even cried back then. Well, I did while Will snapped. Lack of oxygen apparently makes me bawl. But not after. I hadn't cried after that night or after the fight or when they said I needed surgery.

  Now, I had turned into a big baby.

  When had this happened?

  "Tori? Tori, you've been in there since I got home." Leah's voice drifted through the closed door. "Tori, everything okay?"

  I tried to answer. Instead, I snorted out a sob.

  The door flew open.

  The fact that I didn't care gave me some kind of red flag, but I didn't care about that either.

  The curtain ripped back and Leah stood over me, her eyes wide, and her mouth open.

  "Tori, what the hell?" She reached down and turned the knob until the water stopped. Grabbing a towel off the rack, she placed it over me, and then yanked. "Help me out here," she said.

  I shook my head. I tried to talk, but I just blubbered.

  "Tori, what the hell is going on?"

  "He's back."

  She stopped tugging me. She dropped my arm; it fell against the towel that now covered my front. She wiped at the back of her jeans, as if they were dirty, and slowly lowered herself until she sat on the toilet cover.

  "Oh, God. Honey, I'm so sorry."

  "Me too. I froze again. With him."

  "Wait, what? What were you doing with him?" She leaned forward, resting one elbow on her knee, and touched my head with her other hand.

  "He's back at the gym. Jeff is gone. I don't want to harass Jeff. The covering coach is training him. We were doing focus mitts and I froze."