Fierce

by L. G. Kelso

  Max's body shook under my skin, and his respirations were becoming too fast. His story about losing when fighting angry came to mind.

  "Max, please."

  "He wasn’t doing anything?"

  "No."

  "Then what the hell was going on?"

  Once I was sure he wouldn't bolt, I slipped off his back, and he turned to me.

  "Nothing."

  "You're not telling me something, Tori," he said. Some of the anger had left his voice, but I would have preferred the cold tone over the hurt in this one.

  "I know," I said. I swallowed. The idea of actually talking about it made me feel ill, the idea of Max going head-to-head with Will right now made me feel ill, the idea of being like Nicole—needing Max to fix me, sucking the life out of him as he worked to keep the pieces of me together—made me feel ill. "But I can't. I'm sorry."

  "I'm here when you need me, Okay? But I can't wait around, waiting for that day to come, right now. If I don't get my shit together and focus again, I'm going to get destroyed at the fight. I can't make you talk. I don't want to make you talk. I want you to trust me enough to talk to me, and honestly, I thought we were at a point where you could. Now I'm not so sure. I've given you more of myself than I have given anyone. "

  He sighed, and rubbed his hand through his hair, backward and forward, before running his hand over his face. "If you have something going on with Will, I can't be around you right now. I don't know what else it could have been, Tori. What else Shane could have seen. It looked like one of two things and even though I want to believe you, I don't know how right now. And I can't be here right now, not if I'm going to be up against Will. We shouldn't be training in the same area, but I worry about leaving him here with you and the rest of the gym."

  "I want you, Max," I said. My voice caught, and I blinked to force back the tears threatening to expose themselves. "I want to be with you."

  "Do you? Really? You send me off with my crazy ex, and then you can't even tell me why? You can't tell me what is going on? Here I am thinking that it isn't safe for you to be alone with him, and yet, when you are…you what? Are you with him? He's been talking like you guys have history, like you were jealous over the attention he gave to Nicole. And I know that you aren't. I know it, Tori. But I can't help you if you don't let me in. Or maybe you do like him, and I'm just making shit up because I care so fucking much about you."

  Leah had been right. I hadn't dealt with this as I had thought I had. If I had, I could have taken him by the arm and gone and talked. But all I could do now was stand there and shake my head. The idea of talking about it made the panic start to set it. Embarrassment over getting my ass kicked, shame in Max thinking I was a strong girl when I wasn't, fear over what he would think of me once he found out, fear over what Will would do if Max found out, and mostly, fear of feeling that fear again.

  I could handle Will so long as I didn't have to relive it.

  "I need to clear my head. If you have something for him, just tell me Tori. And if there is something that is going on but you're too scared to tell me, please let me help you. I'm worried. I know you can take care of yourself, but that doesn't mean you have all the time. Okay?" he whispered, and I knew I was the only one who could hear him.

  The room had started to darken and close in around Max. As the panic set in and the walls started to peel away to a different time, I caught Will's cold blue eyes peering at me over Max's shoulder.

  "It's nothing. There is nothing to worry about. Just forget about it for right now, okay?" I said, and looked down. I wanted to forget about it, and the only way I knew how was to ignore it.

  Max sighed, and his feet disappeared from my view.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I wanted to run after Max, but I didn't know what I would say. I couldn't chose what pieces to tell him, not if I wanted him to understand that I didn't mean to hurt him. It wouldn't be fair to him until I could give him the truth in its entirety. And it wouldn't be fair to him until I figured out how I was going to deal with the truth and move forward.

  Shane had mentioned that Nicole wanted Max to fix everything. That her problems were his and she had to have him. She needed him.

  I wanted Max, but I didn't want to have to need him. And I sure as hell didn't want to be a leech on him like Nicole.

  Everyone left for the night. I flipped off the lights in the locker rooms, switched off the fan that resided over the mats, and was ready to lock up when Jeff's dark office caught my attention. I rubbed my arms as the fan slowed and stopped, but the bumps along my skin didn't go away once the cold air stopped hitting them.

  The light in Jeff's office flickered before pouring out a constant stream of yellow after I pulled down the switch. In the twenty some odd years he'd owned the gym, he had remodeled it numerous times, with the exception of his office.

  I was sure the couch had never been changed, either. Or cleaned for that matter.

  A cloud of dust billowed into the air, catching the hazy light and lingering. I shoved his desk chair out of the way—the couch had never really fit in here—and turned on his TV. It didn't actually show any TV, the thick brown backing and round knobs indicated that much. Also, it had probably been here since the gym opened. But it played tapes, and that was all I needed.

  The screen, white and gray lines, flickered once and then the image came into view. The tape was still where I had turned it off those weeks ago.

  I rewound it, which took forever compared to a disc, and started it from the beginning.

  Bruises already covered parts of my face, and my stomach, under my sports bra. They were faded, but I remembered being acutely aware of every single one of them as I made the walk to the ring. I had only been out of the hospital for three days. The crowd cheered; Jeff stood at my side as we walked. All I could do was feel the tingle of my marred skin. I had tried to push it away, and I had managed to forget about it.

  Until she came at me.

  I shoved the remote between the ratty couch cushions so I wouldn't be tempted to fling it at the TV.

  Wrapping my arms around my knees, I watched. I listened as the bell rang. I watched Lana make a move. I watched me freeze. Unable to move, just standing there and taking every hit. I had never watched the tape. I couldn't tell anyone how long the round lasted, how many hits there were. I just remembered it felt like it would never end. Every time her fist came at me, I saw his. Then she got the heel hook, and I didn't tap because my brain had shut off. I couldn't move. My ACL snapped. The ref didn't stop her fast enough, and her elbows shot into my head, causing me to lose consciousness.

  I had lost in round one.

  I dug out the remote and watched it two more times.

  I had sucked. I had lost. Now it was time to find a way to be okay with that failure.

  After watching my knee get blown out for the third time, I ejected the tape and turned the TV and light off. I made my way through the dark gym, taking my time to walk through the strips of white light from the moon that trickled through the windows, between the rod iron.

  I had missed this place.

  A car door slammed. My body stiffened as I thought about the fact that I didn't lock the front door behind me.

  I moved silently through the gym, this time avoiding the patches of silver mat. I peeked around the corner, into the entryway. Empty. The door was still closed. I grabbed my bag from under the counter and shoved the videotape into it, before taking my key and walking to the door. I peered out. Nothing.

  I slipped outside, into the crisp air and white moonlight, and locked up. With my bag over my shoulder, I did a quick scan to decide the best way home. I crossed the alley next to the gym, stopped, and then backed up a few steps.

  A car, familiar by the dented rear bumper and missing side view mirror, sat in the alley. I walked up to it, and peered in. Curled up in the back seat, on a pile of clothes, lay Shane.

  I knocked on the window.

  He jumped, smacked his head
on the roof, and grabbed a bat that rested on the floorboard while letting out a stream of swear words.

  "Jesus, Tori, you scared the shit out of me," he said a few seconds later. I stepped to the side as he shoved the door open.

  "What are you doing?" I asked. I started to lean against the alley wall and stopped when my shoe squished. "Oh, God, is that pee?" I scrunched up my nose. "You totally peed right outside of where you're sleeping?"

  He shrugged. "And I'm not sleeping. I'm resting."

  "In your car. In an alley. Next to your pee."

  "Maybe."

  "Why aren't you at home?"

  He groaned and slammed the door shut before leaning against it. "Because I lost my place. I couldn't make rent. The last two fights I lost, and the first month, the landlord fronted with the expectation I'd make up for it this month. But I couldn't, not after I lost that fight."

  "So, you're going to live in your car?" I leaned my hip against the driver side door.

  "I don't have anywhere else to go. I can't afford anything right now. I have no money, except what I gave to the gym for my dues and that's even lower than it should be, but Jeff and I are figuring that out."

  "Max's place?"

  "He lives in a studio. There's no room for me and I know he would let me, but I don't want to do that to him." He rubbed his hands over his face.

  "So, I take it he has no idea you're living in an alley?"

  "I'm living in my car. Car. Not alley."

  "Get in," I said, opening the car door. "You're driving. We're going to my apartment."

  "What?"

  "You. My apartment. You can have the couch for a few nights while you figure this out. Come on. I'm tired and want to go home."

  He stood there, staring at me as if I was messing with him.

  "Seriously, let's go."

  "You're okay with me sleeping on your couch, even though I'm mad at you? That isn't a problem?"

  "The only problem is you and your assumptions. We'll talk later. You can be mad at me. I don't really care, because at some point, you'll realize that assumptions make an ass out of you and me. Isn't that how that goes? Anyway, get in the damn car and drive. You're not sleeping in an alley."

  "Car."

  "Fine. You're not sleeping in your car."

  I walked around the car, and climbed into the passenger seat. A few minutes later we arrived at my apartment complex.

  "Shane," I said as we pulled into the lot.

  "Yes?" He put the car in park and turned the ignition off.

  "Before you do anything like sleep, you're going to go down and do your laundry. It smells like someone shoved the gym into a car. And you're going to take a shower. But you will not use my shower gel, because then you'll smell like a girl."

  "You never smell like a girl."

  "Hey." I popped him in the shoulder. "That doesn't mean I don't like smelling like a flower or some crap while I shower."

  "You got it, boss."

  #

  "What did you tell Max?" I asked Shane after he had taken a shower. He sat on the couch, and I handed him a blanket.

  Shane studied his shoes.

  "Shane. Seriously. Tell me."

  "Max thought there might be something else going on and thought maybe you had a reason for sending him off with Nicole. But then I saw you and Will together, and I couldn't let him be led on."

  "What do you mean by Will and I together?" I sat down at the other end of the couch, so my back pressed against the armrest and I could stare at Shane's profile.

  "You know, at the fight." His right shoulder dipped in a shrug.

  "No, I don't know."

  "Oh, come on, Tor. He had you against the wall, you were flushed, and your neck was red like it gets after you work out. And your hair was a mess."

  "So, you think we were screwing around?"

  He stared at my coffee table and didn't answer. I reached my foot out and poked him, none too gently, in the arm.

  "Spill it, Shane."

  "You realize that he finally kicked Nicole to the curb. For good. It's taken him two years to do that. What you saw at the gym that day was nothing compared to the mental shit she does to him. Max told me he was with you when she called him that day. You know what she told him? If he didn't get over there, she was going to kill herself. She's told him that before, when he tries to dump her. For six years, she has convinced him that she is his responsibility to fix. And for six years, she has made it so her life was in his hands. She was drunk and strung out that day he got there, and she fell through her table. Max caught her, but cut himself up and ended up taking her to the hospital. He had finally had enough, Tor. He had finally realized he wasn't responsible for her."

  "And now I shoved her back onto him," I said into my hands. "I just. I didn't want her to end up hurt." Tears fogged my vision and poured over my eyelids.

  Shane stiffened. The couch cushion underneath me sank as he shifted his weight. He raised his hand slowly, and patted me on the back.

  I couldn't say anything else. I got up, went to my room, and got into bed.

  #

  "Tori. Tori. Tori?"

  Something sharp poked me in the shoulder repeatedly. I rolled over, yanking the blanket tighter around me, but the poke persisted, this time in the middle of my back.

  "Tori."

  Leah appeared out of nowhere in my dream. She stood there, saying my name, as I panicked about failing my business econ test in front of me.

  More pokes.

  "Wake up."

  Something squeezed my cheeks. My eyes opened, my brain still in dream lala land. Slowly, Leah came into focus. "Wh—?" Nope, no words yet. Instead, I grunted.

  "Is that a boy on our couch?"

  Another grunt.

  "Why?"

  Grunt.

  "He looks hot."

  No grunt for that.

  "Is he from the gym?"

  Grunt.

  "Okay, I'll let you go back to sleep."

  I flopped over, but grabbed her before she left. "No seducing."

  "Like I would need to intentionally seduce anyone."

  Grunt. I threw the blankets over the head.

  My pillow and comforter disappeared.

  How had I gone from school to the gym so fast? I couldn't even remember slipping into the ring. Will stood opposite me. Why weren't his gloves on?

  The image blurred. The movement turned hazy. I couldn't see. Blood poured in my eyes. Throbbing in my head. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I heard a scream.

  #

  I felt like I had gotten zero sleep when I rolled out of bed the next morning. Stretching, I wrinkled my nose. I smelled. I pulled at my extra-large sleep shirt, currently sticking to parts of my back. My bed felt damp, and I wondered if my comforter had been too much, even with the window open.

  My feet sank into carpet, and I walked out of my room. Shane and Leah sat on the couch. Leah had her elbow resting on the top of it, propping her head up with her hand. A cup of what I hoped was coffee and not wine rested in her other hand. Shane sat facing her, a mug between his fingers.

  They both stopped talking, and their smiles fell when they looked at me.

  "Oh, boy. She didn't hump you while you were sleeping or something, did she?" I asked, making my way to the kitchen.

  "Why don't you come in here and sit with us," Leah said. Her lack of sassy comeback woke me up more.

  Why did I feel like this was the beginning of a bad intervention show?

  "Okay." I poured a cup of orange juice. I took the chair across from them and drank as they stared at me. After half my juice was gone, I finally looked at them.

  My glass slipped from my hand.

  I fumbled to catch it, managing to only spill a little of the juice, and then put it on the small coffee table before my shaking fingers dropped it again.

  I couldn't look at them. I looked at my hands, took a deep breath, and tried to steady them. After a few more silent minutes, I looked up. I swall
owed the lump in my throat and met Shane's eyes.

  I almost looked away. I wanted to.

  His eyes reflected the thing I never wanted anyone to regard me with. I had gotten the look occasionally from Leah, but it had gotten less intense as our years of friendship had grown.

  Pity. I loathed pity.

  I forced myself to keep eye contact as I said, "What's wrong?"

  "Tori..."

  "Fine. I won't play dumb. I made noise last night?"

  Leah nodded.

  I glanced at the ceiling before returning to meet their gazes.

  "This isn't news for you," I said, looking at Leah. "What's the big deal all of a sudden?"

  "It's news to me," Shane said.

  "It's old news. In the past. I'm fine. Everything is fine."

  "Except it's not fine. Is this why you don't want a relationship with Max?" His legs were now in front of him, and he and Leah had both turned so they faced me.

  "Who said I didn't want a relationship? You assumed!"

  "You sent him home with his ex."

  I could hear the rumble underneath Shane's words, anger that he was keeping at bay.

  "I had to. I didn't have a choice," I said.

  "Why would you have to do that? That's ridiculous," Shane snapped. He put his mug onto the table, and the table rocked.

  I smiled. The anger in his voice had come back, but it didn't tick me off. Instead, I appreciated that he cared so much about his friend.

  "Why are you smiling?" Shane asked.

  "It's kind of scary, isn't it?" Leah said. Shane nodded.

  "I'm smiling because I like that you get so worked up over your friends. I'm glad Max has you."

  "You're trying to tell me you care about Max?" Shane asked.

  "Yes, dumbass."