Fight for Her #2

by JJ Knight

  When the woman running the machine pointed out the baby’s head and legs and heartbeat, Parker barely paid attention. “Is there supposed to be a picture of the kid in there?” he asked.

  He couldn’t see what I did. To him it was a snowy collection of white dots on a black screen. But for me, I saw the outline of a face. Fingers and feet.

  “It’s a girl,” the woman said.

  “Huh,” Parker responded. “Not a boy, then.”

  That was it. His only response. I’d been watching too many episodes of the TV show A Baby Story and felt utterly crushed. Nothing was going to change. Not ever. I would be the one to have to drop out of school and take care of the baby. Parker probably wouldn’t even help.

  I was too tired and strung out to even cry about it. I had zero options, unless I put the baby up for adoption. I wasn’t sure I could do that.

  All this was a part of why I left. I didn’t realize how soul crushing it would be. Or that Aunt Delores would actually save me. But I got by. The handful of times Parker came to New York were strained and difficult. It was clear we were over.

  But he’d changed. Lily contacting him herself had done something to him. The Parker who arrived a week ago was completely different than the one I used to know.

  Watching him with Lily now, patiently listening while she pretends to read him a story she’s had memorized since she was two, it’s hard to believe he’s the same person. I guess we do grow up. I had to do it fast. He just did it slow.

  And now, with this complication from the fight, I can’t help but have hope. This is what was meant to happen. That he’d come here, have a fight, and lose big. Question what he’s doing. Why he’s doing it.

  Lily isn’t a collection of dots on a screen. And she’s not some far-off baby he doesn’t have to think about. She’s here, reading him a story, attached to him. And now he’s feeling it.

  I glance at the clock. I’m ready for Lily to go to bed. I want Parker to myself, to remember not just who Lily is to him, but who I am. “Pajamas, little bee,” I say.

  Lily closes the book very solemnly. “We’ll pick this back up tomorrow,” she tells Parker. “I won’t forget where we are.”

  He takes the book and watches her head off down the hall. “She’s a great kid,” he says.

  “Delores had a huge hand in it,” I say.

  “I doubt that.”

  I roll a plastic car back and forth on the coffee table. I know Parker doesn’t like Delores. She disapproves of him, and nobody likes being looked down on.

  “No, without her, I would have been totally lost. She’s strict, sure, and judgmental. But she cares. And she stepped up when no one else would.”

  This gets him. He leans forward on the sofa, his hands clasped together. His eyes are fixed on the floor.

  “I should have gone after you,” he says.

  “Yeah, you should have.”

  We had this argument once before, years ago, the first time he came to see Lily. She was still a baby then and wouldn’t even let him hold her. One look at his fuzzy face and she howled, straining away from him to reach for me or Delores.

  You can’t make a little kid love you without at least trying.

  Lily runs back in, a mustache of toothpaste on her upper lip. “I’m all done!” she says.

  “I’ll take her,” Parker says and scoops Lily up.

  “Gloves!” Lily insists.

  Parker fumbles a little but manages to pick up the pink boxing gloves on the sofa, and he and Lily take off down the hall.

  I decide to let them have their moment and stay in the living room. Delores is out for the night, but she’ll be back tomorrow. This is pretty much the only chance he’ll have to be with Lily without her condescending stare.

  I try to see my house and my life through his eyes. Boring. Ordinary. Since he’s been talking to Lily, I’ve started following some of the MMA sites, watching for mentions of him, getting a sense of the type of things that occupy his days. There’s always something. Fighters talking trash about each other in interviews, sometimes going bonkers and throwing punches or making a scene. I don’t know if it’s real or fake.

  Girls in tiny outfits holding up signs that indicate the rounds, always present, hanging on the fighters, mugging for the camera.

  Parker hasn’t really made it big. I can see that. So he probably hasn’t had to deal too much with the glitz and the public eye. But if that’s what he wants, I don’t know if it’s for me.

  Parker stands at the end of the hall, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. I know he’s having trouble seeing, so I doubt he can make out my expression, or how I feel. He’s faking it a lot, but I’ve seen him bump into corners and catch his balance. If he’s got a long-term problem, can I manage it? Could Delores handle having him around?

  “Come here,” he says. “I’ve been waiting for this part all day.” He holds out his arms.

  My heart has sped up already. There’s one part of us that hasn’t changed at all. I’ve tried to never feel ashamed that I like things rough, that being tied up is hot. And that having an edge to our encounters is sexy, not frightening.

  The only other man I dated didn’t understand me. I had to act normal with him, respond in ways he expected. That’s why it didn’t last.

  But Parker? He knows me. He predicts me. And he rises to every occasion.

  I stand up. I picture what he looked like in that motel room when I opened the door to the shock of that little old lady. Him naked, kneeling on the bed. He was glorious. I didn’t even care that she saw him. Something that impressive shouldn’t be hidden away.

  The second I get close, he grabs my waist and jerks me hard against him. “I am going to do some wicked shit to you,” he says.

  “Not if I tie you up first,” I say. I break free and take off down the hall.

  It’s unfair, since I know he’s having some trouble navigating. But he’s right on my heels. I skid to a stop at my bedroom door and jump inside. I turn to slam the door to keep him out, but he’s too fast and stops it with his palm.

  We struggle against each other, me pushing the door from one side and him on the other. I know he’s not giving it everything, letting the moment draw out, but I don’t care. We’ve always had our tussles. It was our favorite way to start.

  I turn around and put my back into it. I almost have the door closed when it suddenly shoves against me. I fly away and have to catch myself before I fall. I shift my weight to land on the bed instead of the floor. My face plows into the sheets. I’m sure I look terribly awkward and want to laugh.

  Then Parker’s behind me, pressing me down onto the mattress, his hand on my back. “You can’t escape that easily,” he says.

  I squirm to get away. “You haven’t caught me yet,” I say. I manage to get a leg free and kick backward into his thigh. His pressure lightens up and I scoot farther up the bed.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” he says. He leaps over me and lands roughly on my back. He grabs a handful of my hair and twists it around his knuckles. When he pulls, my face is forced around. “You’re mine.”

  I laugh at him. “You think so?” My whole body feels flushed. I know how rare this is, to find someone who can act the gentle way he does with Lily, but be this way with me.

  I rear backward to throw him off. He releases my hair and grabs me roughly around the waist. Before I can wriggle out of his grasp, he has unfastened my jeans and shoves a hand down the front. I jerk my hips away, but this just gives him better access, and now his fingers have delved inside.

  I go still, breathing hard, letting the pleasure come over me. It’s splintering out like a flash of lightning. I want to keep fighting, take the struggle to another level, but I want this too. I’m caught, but I know if I can keep him, we can play this out all our lives, and make it different every single time. It’s what I’ve always wanted.

  The arm that clutches me from behind seizes a breast and kneads it through the shirt. I want to be naked, now, to get
all these barriers away. I think I will fight him again, get free, get these clothes off, but his fingers roll a nipple even through the layers, and he reaches deeper inside me.

  So I forget it and let go, letting him take me where he wants. His lips press against my jaw. I want oblivion, away from the injury and fear and our future. I only want to be right here, in this moment.

  His hips thrust against me, making me rock into his hand. Then this passion comes over me, as it always does, and I feel like a wild animal. I want to thrash and go crazy and bring on the chaos, to drown in everything I’m feeling. Parker knows it, and unlike the guy I scared off, he feeds it, encourages it, makes it go higher and more intense.

  It’s more than the orgasm, which I can feel starting to bloom around his fingers, but this idea that I can be anything, anybody, and just fall away. I know Lily is down the hall, probably not quite asleep, so I turn my face into Parker’s arm. I must be quiet, not alarm her. But now it’s all exploding, an exquisite torture, electrifyingly hot, a sizzle that blasts through me.

  I can’t scream, so I bite down on Parker’s arm. He doesn’t flinch or freak out but lets me do it. I’m suspended, out of myself, raw emotion, like I’ve been shot into the stars.

  I don’t want to come down, hate coming down, but it happens anyway. It tears at me, makes me want to weep. But Parker is there, arms strong and tight around me. If I have to come out of it, return to reality, I want him there.

  His hand flattens against my belly, holding still, knowing I have to come back into myself. I’m cocooned in his embrace, unable to move.

  “I’ve got you,” he whispers. I drift down, settle back in, and relax into him. I don’t know how I went without him for so long. Without this. I had simply forced myself to forget.

  But now that we have it back, I won’t let it go. We’ll figure out a way. We have to.

  I have to have him.

  Chapter 7: Parker

  Waking up Sunday morning is just about the best day of my life.

  Delores decided to stay with a friend in Jersey, so I’m in Maddie’s bed in her house. She’s curled up against me in a pair of silky pink pajamas she put on after a couple hours of not wearing them. We were so intense last night. I know Maddie was moved. I know I’ve got her back.

  I can hear Lily in the hall, singing to herself. Maddie starts to stir. “Is she up?” she murmurs.

  “I’ll get her,” I say.

  The room is pretty dark, and when I open the door into the brighter hall, I realize something critical.

  I can see.

  It’s not perfect. But it’s so much better. I can read the silly plaques Delores has on all the walls. And I’m not annoyed by the platitudes. “Success begins today” and “Failure is not an option.”

  I believe them all.

  I scoop Lily up from behind. She squeals, “Daddy, you scared me!”

  I plop her back down in the middle of the living room. “Let me show you what you can do if someone comes up behind you.”

  I turn her around away from me. “Put your elbow here.” I shift her bent arm away from her body. “And if I get too close, turn really fast and hit me hard with that elbow.”

  She waits for me, her head turned so she can see. When I get close, she whips around, and her tiny elbow lands right in the jewels.

  I bend over, letting out a rush of air.

  “Did I do it right?” Lily asks.

  Maddie plops onto the sofa behind us. “Looked good to me. Want to teach me that move, Daddy?” she asks.

  I force myself to straighten back up. The fiery pain starts to cool to a low burn. “You’re already dangerous. I can’t make you armed too. I won’t stand a chance.”

  I’m rewarded with Maddie’s throaty laugh. Damn, this morning feels good.

  “Let’s make pancakes, Daddy! I know how to mix them!” Lily grabs my hand and tugs me toward the kitchen.

  I glance back at Maddie, watching us with what I think is happiness in her eyes. “I’ll try not to burn the place down,” I say.

  “You doing okay this morning?” she asks.

  I slow Lily down. “It’s all good,” I say and tap my head. “I think I’m about out of it.”

  She nods slowly, and I can see the conflicting feelings on her face. Glad I’m better. Sorry if it means I might start fighting again.

  Lily pulls on me again, and this time I let her lead me away.

  * * *

  I dig out my phone to call Brazen when I get to my motel Sunday night, after a stone-faced Delores glares at me until I leave. You’d think she’d be glad to see Maddie happy, the family back together. I don’t get it.

  While it rings, I pick up the doctor’s card from the desk. The cleaning lady must have found it on the floor. I can read the numbers now. It’s not easy, and I have to keep squinting and focusing. But I can do it. It’s like some sort of weird test. By the time I can read it, I don’t need it anymore.

  “Yo, Power Play, you dead yet?” Brazen asks.

  “Nah. Looks like I’m going to live.” It’s actually good to hear his voice.

  “When you coming back?”

  “I’m going to try to get a flight tomorrow,” I say. “Hold that match for me, okay?”

  “Will do. We’ll get you cleared by Doc. You’re not ruining your weigh-in over there, eating that New York pizza, right?”

  “I’ve been working out.” Actually, I haven’t for four days. I’ll have to hit it hard.

  “All right, lemme know when you’re back.”

  I hang up. I took a loss and a beating, and I didn’t make any money on the match. But I got extra time with Maddie and Lily. It’s changed everything.

  Now that I can more or less see the phone again, I tap out a quick message to Colt, thanking him for the introduction and letting him know I got shot down in the match. But I have my own leads now, if the manager Pinball talked about calls me. And who knows, maybe Brazen will come over to New York for fights. I’m certainly not going to be calling up Panther again.

  It’s going to work out. It has to.

  Chapter 8: Parker

  The flight back to LA is the worst. Crowded, noisy, and delayed.

  Maddie takes the afternoon off so we can all go to the airport. She holds it together, but Lily is a wreck, crying and holding on to me as best she can with her hands in the pink gloves. I promise her I will be back, but walking through security is about the toughest thing I’ve ever had to do.

  I settle into a seat next to a mother and her toddler girl. Seeing this kid doesn’t make me feel any better about leaving. But I have to straighten out my affairs. Decide what I’ll do past the fight this weekend.

  When I turn my phone back on in LAX, I have a message from Colt asking me to drop by Buster’s Gym.

  All I have on me is a duffel anyway, so I take a bus straight over. On the last stop before I get off, Camryn, a girl fighter training at the gym with Jo, hops inside.

  “Hey,” she says, holding on to the pole next to me. “You’re back!”

  I nod, feeling a little unsure about how to act around her. Before I left, we had a sparring match that got a little close. I know she likes me. And I know that in theory we’d be a good fit.

  But she’s not Maddie.

  “You heading to Buster’s, I guess?” Camryn asks.

  “Yeah. Gotta talk to Colt.” I shift my bag on my shoulder. I shouldn’t be uncomfortable. We’re just two fighters, talking. But her face is all lit up that I’m here.

  “I saw the East Coast fight,” she says and scrunches her face. “I’m glad you’re all right. When you didn’t come back, Brazen about flipped his lid.”

  Hell. Everybody knows, about the match, then. “Where’d you see it?”

  “It’s all over the MMA forums. Somebody made a montage of Blitzkrieg’s blows.” She pulls out her phone. “You haven’t seen it?”

  I don’t want to tell her I was only able to see anything starting yesterday. Even if I had, I was too cozied
up with Maddie to pay attention to my phone.

  The first few seconds are Blitzkrieg’s early blows. All my retaliation strikes are edited out. Then it gets to the part where Blitz is on top of me, pounding my face.

  I push it away. “Yeah. I was there.”

  “Jo says it was that new flying knee strike. You totally didn’t defend it.”

  I start to feel irritated. Tell me something I don’t know. “I’ll work on it.”

  Mercifully, the bus stops. I push my way to the door.

  Camryn follows. When I start walking pretty fast toward Buster’s, she runs to catch up. “Hey, Parker. I’m sorry. That was a crap thing to say.”

  I glance down at her. Her frizzy ponytail makes her look even younger than the early twenties I’ve pegged her for. Her dark eyes look sad, like she’s screwed up.

  Damn it. I don’t want to be an asshole. But I can’t exactly encourage her either.

  I bump her shoulder with my elbow. “Don’t worry, High Tide,” I say, the nickname I gave her suddenly coming back to me. “One day we’ll take it to the cage again and you can remind me how much I suck.”

  She seems relieved I’m willing to make a joke. I open the blacked-out door to Buster’s and let her in ahead of me. She peels off toward the girls’ bathroom. The front room is empty.

  Only a few people are lifting weights, but I spot Colt bench-pressing in the corner. His trainer, Killjoy, stands over him, yelling insults and encouragement in alternating bursts.

  The bar clangs into place, and Colt drops his arms. Killjoy sees me. “The boy returns, bloodied and bruised.”

  I shake my head. “I’m still standing.”

  Colt sits up. “Doc wants to check you out. He already had the hospital send over the CT scan.”

  Killjoy stares at me. “You got transport?”