Brawl

by Kylie Hillman

  I don’t wait for him to register my attention on him, swinging my right leg out in a roundhouse kick that sends him flying face first onto the fancy white tiles of the floor. Grabbing as much of his hair as I can, I lift the fat fuck’s head from the floor and punch him repeatedly in the face. Each strike increases my anger, the red haze gaining intensity as I lose myself in the craving to kill him for daring to lay a hand on innocent kids.

  “Hooligan!” Nate grabs my arm and tries to pull me away from the now-unconscious fucker. “Fucking hell, you’re gonna kill him.”

  The shouted words are heard by my homicidal brain but they aren’t heeded. Wrenching my arm out of Nate’s grasp, I resume punching him again and again until a leg sweeps my feet out from underneath me, sending me to the floor. Instinct takes over and I grab my assailant, twisting my body and dragging them to the floor with me. Rolling in a shoulder roll that leaves them pinned under me, it takes me a few seconds to recognize that it’s Gabbi under me.

  “What the fuck?”

  Twisting her lips in a grim mockery of a smile, she squeezes out a wheezing protest. “Get off me. I can’t breathe.”

  Jumping to my feet, I pull her upright in one swift motion. Patting her down, I check for any injuries. Finding none, my next move feels more natural than breathing. Seeing that she’s shaken as fuck with what went down, I pull her against my chest and wrap my arms around her. Moments later, I feel her arms slide around my waist, her fingers linking at the small of my back. I push her against me and she takes a step closer, her breast pillowing against me, her cheek resting on my left pectoral. I can’t begin to describe how good she feels in my arms.

  With my chin resting on the top of her head, the tension in my shoulders relaxes and I search the room for clues as to what happened. The two kids that I’m assuming are her little brother and sister are huddled together, the blonde girl stroking the little boy’s brown hair and they’re both staring at their sister in my arms like they’re seeing a miracle.

  “What money did he want?” Nobody seems to be forthcoming with details, the only sounds coming from the shallow, raspy breathing of the unconscious guy on the floor and the light mumbling of Jep and Nate as they talk between themselves.

  “Our mom has a gambling problem.” The blonde girl speaks up. With a wry laugh, she puts her hands over her little brother’s ears and elaborates. “She sleeps with men so they’ll buy her drinks and put bets on for her. Obviously she picked the wrong guy this time.”

  “O...kay,” I drag the word out, shocked at the easy way she presented the truth—like it’s normal or something. “Where’s your dad when all this is happening?”

  Gabbi stiffens in my arms, warm air blowing over my chest when she groans.

  “He’s with his new family,” her sister replies, shrugging.

  Her response makes Gabbi let go of me and walk away toward her siblings. “Shut up, Zali. Nobody needs to know about our drama.”

  Picking up her little brother, Gabbi pats his back, glaring at Zali with a look that tells her to keep her mouth shut. Holding her little brother to her with one arm under his backside, she sways from side-to-side. I get the impression that she’s pretty experienced at looking after him; he looks as at home in her arms as my son used to in mine, forcing me to reassess my original assessment that Gabbi is a little girl playing at being a woman of the world. At this point in time, she looks like she has her shit together better than some of the women I know who are my age.

  Running my gaze over her little brother, comparing him to my own son makes thoughts of Gabe overwhelm me. Visions of his sweet, chubby face lighting up like I was his favorite sight in the whole world when he’d see me. The way he’d throw himself into my arms without warning, certain that I’d catch him. The boy in Gabbi’s arms looks to be about eight—the age that Gabe would be if he was still alive.

  Grief. Heartache. Devastating fucking loneliness hits me right in the solar plexus, making my knees turn to jelly and my throat get that heavy feeling that grips you just before you cry. Coughing in an attempt to regain control of myself, I’m signaling Nate to come to me when Gabbi turns her attention back to us. Her expression is carefully blank; she’s impassive with only keep-your-nose-out-of-my-business vibes flowing from her.

  “Thank you for your help but you can go now. I need to deal with this mess and it’s already late.”

  I hear the calmly spoken words, her desire to get rid of us coming through loud and clear, but underneath it I can see a woman at her wits end. She reminds me so much of Mari when we were younger and shit went down between her parents. She’d run away from home to seek me out for comfort. Gabbi hasn’t a clue how to deal with this, that much is abundantly clear, the same helplessness that used to grip Mari in her expression.

  And who could blame her? A deranged man just broke into her home and attacked her brother and sister while she was half-way across town. Instead of calling the cops or her parents, she high-tailed it home to deal with it all by herself.

  I can’t work out if she’s nuts or the bravest fucking woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  There I go with that word again. Woman. Not sure when I decided she wasn’t a little girl but after today, I have a feeling I’m going to be eating humble pie soon.

  “We’re not going any—”

  My statement is cut off when a blonde woman runs into the kitchen and falls to her knees next to the asshole I put to sleep. She begins screaming—shrill, over-the-top, ear-splitting screams as she cradles his bleeding head in her lap.

  “Karl. Karl. What have they done to you?”

  “Jesus, today just gets better and better. I’m outta here.” Zali grabs a bag off the counter, pulls a phone out of it and puts it to her ear after she’s pressed the screen a couple of times. “Devon. I’m on my way babe. Do you want me to pick anything up for dinner?”

  Without so much as a glance in Gabbi’s way, she leaves.

  “Who did this to him?” The shrieking woman turns to us with accusation in her eyes. Letting the guy she called Karl’s head fall to the floor with a smack, she struggles to her feet and advances on Gabbi. “It was you, wasn’t it, you little whore?”

  I’m dumbstruck. This woman—I’m assuming it’s their mother since she looks like Zali—is more worried about her lover than she is her kids. Standing with my mouth open as I watch her ridiculous performance, the last thing I expect is for her to haul off and slap Gabbi across the face. She’s pulling her hand back to take a second swing when I reach forward and grab her wrist, putting enough pressure on it to make her realize I’m serious when she struggles.

  She turns big, round amber eyes in my direction, sizing me up for two seconds before her entire demeanor changes. “Why, I didn’t see you there. Are you a friend of my Karl? I’m Cathy, I’m sure he’s told you about me.”

  The sensual purr in her voice gets my back up. When she takes a step toward me, I throw her arm away from me and step into Gabbi’s side, slinging an arm over her shoulder and pulling her into me. “No. I’m here because Karl held your son at knifepoint to get the money you conned out of him back from your kids. I’m the one who made him like that.”

  Cathy blinks, the brief flash of shame that I spy in her expression telling me she knows I’m telling the truth. Shutting it down, she sneers as she turns her attention back to Gabbi. “Is that what you told him?”

  Without waiting for a response, she tries to sidle up to me again. Running a long, painted fingernail down her exposed cleavage, she licks her lips and arches one elegant eyebrow my way. “My daughter is prone to exaggerating. I’m sure it was all a misunderstanding.”

  “You’re fucking unbelievable,” Gabbi snaps out of wherever she floated off to mentally when her mother slapped her. “I’m out of here. It’s no longer safe for us, you’ve made sure of that.”

  Hiking her brother up her hip, she turns her back on her mom and heads for the hallway that I entered through. “I’m taking Cooper with me.”
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br />   “No, you’re not,” Cathy screams and throws herself to the floor, legs sprawled and her hands tearing at her hair. “He’s my baby. My precious baby.”

  Motioning with my head to Nate and Jep that they should follow Gabbi and help her grab what she needs, I then squat down in front of the hysterical woman on the floor. Her over-acting is atrocious; the dramatics she’s putting on bordering on nonsensical.

  “Listen here, Cathy, I’ll say this to you once. Those kids are coming with me. Your Karl hit Zali across the face and then held a knife to Cooper to force Gabbi to pay your debts. Apparently, he found you with another man and he didn’t appreciate it after you told him, he was your only one.”

  The keening cry she’s been making during my speech stops abruptly and her pretty face pales. Looks like she didn’t know that he’d discovered her game.

  “Oh my God, you’ve got to help me. He’s going to kill me when he wakes up.” Clutching at my arm with an urgent shaking hand, she pleads for my assistance. “Please, he beats me. He’s abusive.”

  Shaking my head at the lying bitch before me, I decide to lay my cards out. “Bullshit. He’s your mark. A pathetic slob that you string along for all-expense paid nights out and gambling money. Zali filled me in. I don’t give a shit what happens to you, just like you couldn’t care less what happens to your three kids. Cooper and Gabbi are coming with me and you’re not going to say a thing about it...unless you want me to bring the cops into what happened tonight.”

  Pausing for affect, I watch her mind running at a million miles a minute as she tries to find a way out of her predicament. Her eyes light up with a devious glint when she decides that she has something that might change my mind.

  “Let me come with you. It’ll break their little hearts if something happens to me. You can keep all of us safe.” Smug satisfaction settles across her features and she lets go of my arm, crossing her arms under her chest, and using her forearms to lift her breasts to expose more cleavage.

  Unfortunately for her, even if I wasn’t attracted to her daughter, she still wouldn’t tempt me. I’ve never been into the “plastic fantastic” Barbie dolls that act helpless and braindead because they think that’s what all men like. Some do, I’m sure, but it’s never done a thing for me. She’s a good-looking woman, without a doubt, yet the duplicity and conniving that I see in her eyes ruins the beauty she possesses.

  I don’t know if she’s always been like this, but the woman before me is dead on the inside. She cares for nothing and no one.

  When she opens her mouth to plead her case some more, I cut her off. “You’re the reason they’re not safe. You’re not coming.”

  Pushing against my knees with my palms, I stand back to my full height and issue my final threat. “If you make this any more difficult that it already is, I’m bringing child protection into it as well. Have fun explaining your night-time activities to them.”

  “I’m a better fuck than she is because I know how to treat a man properly. All she wants is your cock, then she’ll cut you loose like she does all the other men she’s been with. My daughter’s a slut.”

  “I don’t give a fuck how many men she’s slept with. She could murder someone and still be a better person than you are.” Regarding her like she’s a dirty piece of used gum I’ve found on the bottom of my shoe—because if I’m honest, that’s exactly how I think of her—I roll my eyes when she makes her bottom lip quiver. “You know, for someone who proclaims to be so worried about her precious baby, I find it funny that you haven’t even tried to check on him.”

  Leaving her on the floor, I follow the voices I can hear to a bedroom halfway down the hall. With quick movements, I take a sleeping Cooper off Gabbi, who’s trying to pack with one arm as he lays dead-to-the-world over her shoulder, and carry him to her car. Strapping him in his seat, I jog back to Gabbi’s bedroom and pick up two of the bags she has ready. Nate and Jep grab the other ones and walk out of the room.

  “Come on. You can stay at my place tonight.”

  Her eyes widen with shock; however, she says nothing. Giving me a curt nod, I follow her when she leaves her room, only to stop short when she ducks into the one next to hers. Gabbi re-emerges with a plush bear tucked under her arm moments later, triumph curling her full lips. Holding it up so I can see it, she smiles. “I nearly forgot Mr. Magoo. There’d be hell to pay if I did.”

  Once we’re outside, I toss my keys to Nate so he can drive my truck and slide into the driver’s seat of Gabbi’s car. Her keys are still in the ignition, demonstrating once again how little thought she put into her decision to run headfirst into a dangerous situation.

  “Hey.” Gabbi protests my position behind the wheel of her car, putting her hands on her compact hips and throwing one to the side as she jerks her thumb at me and then motions for me to get out. “I’m more than capable of following you to your place.”

  The thought of how easily tonight could’ve turned out so much worse than it did, makes me shorter with her than I was planning to be. “Just get in the fucking passenger seat. Let’s get Cooper into a warm bed before you decide to throw your tantrum.”

  She stands before me, mouth moving but no sound coming out, until she spins on her heel and walks around the front of the vehicle to the passenger side. Finding her voice when she’s near her door, I bite my bottom lip so I don’t laugh at the curse words leaving her pretty mouth.

  “Fucking bossy ass, goddamned douchelord.”

  Throwing herself into the seat, I watch her choose between her yearning to slam the door to show me how annoyed she is with me and the knowledge that doing so will wake her little brother. Huffing with frustration, she closes the door softly and stares out the window.

  “Your chariot is now leaving, ma’am.” I deadpan, with a hand flourish before I start the car and we drive away from her family home without so much as a protest from her mother—not that I was expecting one. I made my point very clear. Out the corner of my eye, I see Gabbi’s cheeks lift at my silly comment as if she’s stifling a smile and I chalk that point up as one to me.

  Hayden “Hooligan” Harvie: One.

  Gabriella Mitchell: Zero

  Winning her over might be easier than I’d assumed.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Gabbi

  Spinning in a circle around the room that Hooligan’s put me and Cooper in for the night, I realize that he has a kid. A boy by the looks of the blue room and the toys in it. It’s weird but no one’s mentioned his son once during the time I’ve known him. Or an ex-wife. I know he’s not married because no woman would put up with the amount of time he spends at his gym without popping in at least once.

  I wonder why nobody speaks of his kid. Was the divorce messy? Maybe she lives interstate and he doesn’t see him very often?

  “Have you got everything you need?” Hooligan enters the room without knocking and I squeal like an idiot. Wrapping my over my chest, I try to cover myself with growing futility. “Yeah. Shit. I’m sorry. Shoulda knocked.”

  He backs toward the door, staring at the floor until I regain my senses and end his embarrassment. I have a tight tank top and cotton panties on; it’s not like I’m naked or dressed in anything sexy. I’m probably as exposed as I am in my workout clothes. It just feels different because I’m seeing him outside of the gym dressed like this. “Don’t go. It’s all right. You just startled me.”

  Raising his gaze from the floor, he cocks his head to the side and smiles. It’s a funny smile—like he’s happy about something I’ve done. Not that I can think of anything that he’d find funny about tonight. “If you say so. Nate and Jep have left so I wanted to check if you needed anything? I’m gonna watch some TV before I turn in for the night. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”

  Checking Cooper where he sleeps in one of the two single beds in the room, I nod, happy that he’s going to be okay if I leave him. I’m tired, but I know I’m still too keyed up to fall asleep easily. I need to wear myself out a
bit so that the visions of Mom’s disgusting boyfriend holding a knife to my little brother’s chest don’t invade my mind and give me nightmares.

  Pulling on my pajama shorts, I grab my phone and turn to Hooligan, who’s still looking at me like I’m amusing him. “What’s so funny?”

  He lets out a short laugh. “You don’t realize that you’re talking to me, do you? You’re really hopeless at the silent treatment.”

  Smirking, he holds open the bedroom door and gestures me to lead the way out. I don’t think about my reaction, I just do it, slapping him in the stomach as I walk past him. He’s topless so my hand stings from the impact with his bare abs. “Real funny, Hooligan. I appreciate the reminder. I forgot why I was pissed at you for a minute.”

  All I get in response is more laughter.

  Infuriating asshole, he is.

  I pick a single armchair to curl into in front of his television, the disgruntled look that crosses his face telling me that it’s his usual spot. Staring intently at my phone, I check for messages but find none. Not that I really expected Mom to care enough to see where we went, although, I am worried that Zali hasn’t answered me back yet.

  “I never told Nate a fucking thing. He saw us.” Hooligan lies down on the couch to my right, spreading his long frame out and folding one arm behind his head, while he uses the other one to point the remote at the TV.

  I shrug, pretending I don’t care, even as his words lift a weight off my shoulders that’s been bowing me down for over a month. Scrolling through Facebook, I wait to see if he’ll elaborate.

  “Nate blabbed to Jep, thinking that he’d keep it to himself.” Hooligan chuckles, then throws the remote on the coffee table. With the Friday night game of football blaring in the background of the room, the normality of this scene strikes me as surreal. Cooper’s safely tucked up in bed. I’m away from my toxic home with somewhere drama-free to spend the night, and the atmosphere between me and Hooligan is relaxed—playful almost. This is the closest I’ve come to being content for a long time.