Brawl

by Kylie Hillman

  “You’ve got to be joking.” Turning to Amy, I grab her arm and try to drag her out of Nate’s embrace. “Please. Please, don’t do this to me. They’re the devil, the lot of them.”

  It quickly becomes a tug-of-war over Amy when Nate refuses to let me pull her away.

  “Settle the fuck down,” he admonishes, which just makes me madder. Stepping up to him, the extra height from my high-heeled, knee-high boots giving me the extra inches I need to get right in his face, I grab his cheeks in one hand and pull his head closer to mine.

  “Don’t tell me to settle down, Nate. It wasn’t that long ago that you were trying to get in my pants, so excuse me if I’m pissed off that you’ve managed to weasel your way into Amy’s since then.”

  “Hey. Hey.” Amy holds her hands up and pushes between us. “He told me that nothing happened between you two.”

  “Nothing did,” Nate and I answer in unison. He breaks into a satisfied smirk, while I shake my head so hard that I’m afraid it’s going to leave my shoulders.

  “That’s not the point, Amy.” I try to reason with her. “He’s a player and you deserve better.”

  “Gabbi, I decide what I deserve, and at the moment, I’m having fun with him.”

  Letting out a deep sigh, I shrug and walk back to the curb, lifting my arm to hail a taxi. I’m out. All I want to do is head back to my newly rented apartment and crawl into bed. Amy’s mom can watch Cooper for the rest of the night and I can mope around for once without having to worry about upsetting him.

  “Don’t go. Come inside and watch the fight. He doesn’t know you’re coming and we’ll keep you out of his way if it upsets you that much.”

  A sick part of me wants to see him. It’s taken all of my willpower not to give in—to his constant texts, to the flowers waiting when I turn up to work every night, to his promises to stay away from his gym during my training sessions if I come back, and, most of all, to the presents he leaves for Cooper with my flowers. To be honest, the thoughtful useful boy stuff that he gives to my little brother is the hardest to ignore, knowing how much it must remind him of his own son and how painful it would be for him.

  “Gabbi?” Amy’s quiet voice breaks into my reverie. She rubs my back, the heat of her hand through the thin silk of my shirt reminding me that, apart from Cooper, no one has touched me for weeks.

  What a sorry state of affairs that is. I’ve turned into a seventeen-year-old version of the spinster aunt. All I’d need is a dozen cats and I’d be set for life.

  Squaring my shoulders, I give her my best stink-eye before letting a small smile break free. “I hate you. This is all your fault. If I hadn’t listened to you that night, I wouldn’t have met him. If I hadn’t listened to your ridiculous plan to start fighting, I wouldn’t have touched him. And if I’d ignored your call tonight like I was going to, I wouldn’t be about to torture myself by seeing him.”

  A big grin covers her face and she throws her arms around me, squealing with delight and jumping up and down on the spot likes she’s just won the lotto. Looking over her shoulder, my eyes meet Nate’s—his green gaze that’s identical to his uncle’s making my heart flip in my chest. He gives me a chin lift, commiserating with me over his crazy girlfriend’s antics.

  “Shit.” I pull back from her. “Are you two, like, official? Exclusive?”

  Nate nods straightaway while Amy shakes her head in denial. Seeing his response, she turns to him and starts arguing that they are “no such thing”. For the first time since we arrived at Nitro’s, I laugh. A belly-rumbling laugh that has everyone staring at us.

  “It’s comforting to know that I’m not the only one with this problem.”

  Nate glares at me. “Enjoy it while you can, ninja girl. You haven’t a clue what you’re up against.”

  Amy elbows him with all of the subtly of a steam train. Cataloging the look that they exchange, I decide that I need to be on alert for game playing from them.

  They’re up to something.

  “Come on, let’s get in there before I change my mind.”

  ***

  The first four fights of the night fly past. I’m distracted, my attention returning to the red door that Hooligan will enter through when it’s his turn. My palms are sweaty and I keep wiping them on my jeans, in between bouts of tapping my heels on the floor.

  “What’s with the new look?” Amy slides into her seat next to me, beer in each hand. She passes one to me and takes a big sip of her own. “Not that you don’t look hot, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in pants and with your tits in a top that doesn’t look like it’s about to split under the strain of containing your ginormous puppies.”

  Gulping down my beer, I toss the empty plastic cup under my chair. “I needed a change. My old look didn’t represent who I am, anymore.”

  Nudging me with her shoulder, she leans into me. “You’ve got it bad. Why don’t you just give in and put us all out of our misery?”

  “Because I’m not interested in what he wants. All I wanted was a few fucks. He refused to give me that, then he goes nuclear on my ass in front of everyone, dumping all this shit about his dead wife and kid on my head and telling me that he has feelings for me. I’m seventeen, not some old lady who wants to settle down and have kids.”

  Amy drops her head to the side, looking away from me. I watch her, puzzled, until I notice her shoulders shaking. Bitch is laughing at me. Flicking her ear, I slump in my seat. “Oh, fuck you, Amy. It’s not funny.”

  Facing me, she tries hard to contain herself, but is too far gone. Her eye makeup is running down her cheeks from her tears. Nate returns from wherever he’d disappeared to and sits on the other side of her. Lifting an eyebrow in my direction when I look at him, he shakes his head at me. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She thinks I’m funny.”

  “Oh my God, Nate. You should’ve heard what she said. Something about not wanting what Hooligan wants and not being ready to settle down because, get this, she’s not an old lady who wants kids.”

  Nate burst into bellows of laughter that match his girlfriend’s, and I give up. These two are fucking insane. They deserve each other.

  “We’re in for a special treat tonight folks. He wasn’t supposed to fight until next weekend, but apparently he has better plans now, so he’s here tonight instead.” The MC yells into the microphone and I know that the moment I’ve been waiting for has arrived. “And, entering through the red door, we have our undisputed, undefeated, reigning champion. Give it up for Hooligan Harvie.”

  The basement fills with shouts and screams reminiscent of the first time I came here. The crowd leaps to their feet, and just like last time, I lose track when the masses swallow him. Jumping onto my chair, I wobble on my heels until someone grabs my arm and steadies me. Diverting my attention from searching for Hooligan to see who’s touching me, I snatch my arm back when I see that it’s Jep. He’s apologized a million times for what happened in the locker room and for what he said, but I can’t let it go. I should because he helped out at my house the night Cooper was threatened and he assisted me with my training whenever Angelo asked him. He’s gone out of his way to make amends, it’s just my inability to forgive that stands in the way.

  “I’m not trying anything, Gabbi. Just stopping you from getting hurt again.” The reminder of what went down after the first fight I attended makes my mouth run dry. I forgot about that; lost as I was in my internal dilemma about facing Hooligan for the first time in weeks.

  Drawing in a deep breath through my nose, my chest expands, then contracts when I let it out of my mouth. It cleanses my mind, letting me weigh my options. Forgive Jep, and maybe catch a glimpse of Hooligan or hold onto my resentment and miss out. For the first time in a long time, I chose to not argue the point or cling to my anger, holding my hand back out to him so I can use his solid frame to keep my balance.

  Craning my neck above the throng, I find Hooligan. He’s almost at the cage, climbing the steps to ente
r, looking like business as usual, until he stops and looks straight at me. My heart leaps into my throat when he points at me and then curls a finger, beckoning me to join him.

  Shaking my head, I jump off my seat and try to hide amongst the bodies, out of his sight, and away from the green gaze that just looked at me with so much affection that I’m struggling to breathe from the intensity.

  “Nate,” Hooligan’s voice comes over the speakers, filling the room, making me feel like I have nowhere to hide. “Grab her.”

  Strong hands seize me from my position crouched in front of my seat behind Jep’s legs. Despite my best efforts to resist, I’m picked up and slung over Nate’s shoulder. As he carries me off, hair hanging over my face and my jean-clad ass in the air, Amy gives me a thumbs-up. I flip her my middle finger and she claps her hands with delight.

  This is worse than any plan I could’ve imagined they’d dream up. My blood’s rushing to my face, and I’m trying to come up with an escape plan when I hear Jep yelling at the noisy crowd to move out of our way. He’s directing them, making room for Nate to carry me to the fucking cage, making it clear that all three of them are in on this.

  Fuck. What the hell is Hooligan up to?

  Desperation consuming me, I try to repeat the maneuver I pulled on Nate the first time he had me in this position. Kicking my leg out, I let out a scream of frustration when he counters it, clamping down on my legs with strong arms so I can’t hurt him with my knees. His torso shakes as he laughs at me. Jep looks back at us, and works out what happened in one glance. Dropping back level with me, he leans down and yells in my ear.

  “Don’t you remember me telling you that he let you put him on his back last time?” Lashing out at Jep’s smug face with my open hand and connecting with a slap, I’m left squealing when he reaches up and paddles my ass with two stinging strikes. “Now, that wasn’t nice.”

  Nate walks up the steps to the cage, swings me back onto my feet, and then dodges my clumsy attempt at a punch. Backing out of the cage, he shuts the gate and grins at me as he pulls a padlock out of his pocket and clicks it shut on the gate.

  “Goddamn asshole,” I hiss at him. Executing a bow, he walks down the steps and leaves me alone with Hooligan. In the middle of a fucking MMA cage. With at least two hundred people staring at us.

  I haven’t turned to look at Hooligan. My nerves are shot. I’m embarrassed to all hell. I’m not sure if I’m gonna punch him for this or burst into tears at the effort he’s gone to.

  This is my boombox outside my bedroom window moment. Except, instead of John Cusack looking all innocently defiant and lovelorn, I have a broken man, with a past that Usain Bolt would find it hard to outrun, to contend with.

  “Gabbi,” Hooligan grabs my hand and spins me to face him. I manage not to fall on my face, my hands landing on his shoulders when he pulls our bodies together. His gloved hands come to rest on my ass and the crowd hollers their appreciation until he raises his hand to quieten them. “I don’t do public proclamations. I don’t do sweet nothings. And I definitely don’t let Angelo talk me into plotting with my nephew and his friends to get the girl. But, for you, I’m doing all of that.”

  Every hair on my body stands on end at his declaration, goosebumps joining them, and making me shiver. This is surreal.

  “I haven’t had anyone in my corner since Mari died. I wouldn’t let them; it felt wrong to continue on without her. Truthfully, I’ve been so angry since then that none of my fights have made it out of the first round anyway.” His honesty is raw, the pain in his voice palpable. It costs him to tell me this but he straightens his shoulders and continues. “When I was brainstorming ways to get you to speak to me. I knew this was the best way to show you what I was trying to say that day in the gym. You’re still a kid, in some—”

  “I’m not,” I argue, until he silences me with a hard look.

  “I’m doing the talking right now. It’s your turn after my fight.” Nodding at his no-nonsense words, I press my lips together. “What I was saying, is that you’re still a girl in some ways but I forgot that. I threw my past at you and expected you to sort through it on your own to get to my true meaning. I scared you away because you don’t have the life experience that I do.”

  I want to disagree with him; tell him that there’s much more to it than fear. My silence, the distance I’ve put between us is for his own good more than mine. I can survive whatever he throws at me because I won’t let myself fall for him. Hooligan, on the other hand, he’s already been through loss once before and it broke him for over three years. My conscience will not let me be responsible for him suffering through it a second time.

  “Amy’s told me about your parents. The full story about your mother and how you ended up with Cooper. I know where your sister is and I know what your dad did. I get it. You don’t trust men. You don’t believe in love. Fuck, I’m not even sure if you like me half as much as I like you. Your exterior is pretty bloody impenetrable. So, I’m just swinging away here, hoping like fuck that I’m gonna connect with you, and hit a homerun.”

  His bad analogies make me smile, even as I try to defend myself. “I’m not that bad. I just learnt early what it takes some girls a lifetime to discover. Fairy tales aren’t real. Prince Charming isn’t going to come riding into my life and fix all of my problems. Nobody is waiting with a glass slipper.”

  Earnest, green eyes bore into mine. Hooligan looks like he’s trying to telepathically convince me to believe his next promise. “If you give me the chance, I can prove that you’re wrong. Fairy tales are real. I’ve already had one and I want my next one to be with you.”

  Biting my bottom lip when it starts to quiver, I break our eye contact and push against his shoulders. He doesn’t let me move, holding me in place with unyielding arms. “How can you say that? Your wife died and so did your son.”

  “It’s taken me three years to grasp that the ending doesn’t change how good my life was before. Me and Mari had the sort of love that they write about in romance novels. I worshipped the ground she walked on and she loved me unequivocally. Gabe was cherished every second of his short life; he was the physical product of our love story. What more could we have asked for? We were gifted a fairy tale; it was just a short one and I take comfort knowing that Mari and Gabe died knowing they were loved.”

  The tears I was attempting to contain spill down my cheeks. I bite harder on my lip to stop them but they continue to flow. Maybe, just maybe, he’s right and he can prove that fairy tales are possible.

  “And, I’ve finally realized that they loved me so much that they’d want me to be happy again.” He leans his forehead against mine and whispers his next sentence. “They’d want me to have someone else in my corner.”

  My heart bursts into life, racing in my ears, as the gravity of his words dawn on me. The first time I saw him walk to the cage, I’d wondered why he was alone, and now I know the reason I understand his decision. Letting someone take his wife’s position is a big deal. It means he’s ready to let her rest in peace and move on with his life.

  The crowd has been quiet since Hooligan shushed them; now they start to show their restlessness. Whistles and hollering breaks out, beginning as a low rumble of jumbled words that gradually builds into a chant that reverberates around the basement. The two words bounce off the walls, making me flush and Hooligan laugh.

  “Kiss her. Kiss her. Kiss her.”

  Letting go of me and then taking a step back, Hooligan gives me my freedom again. Lifting an eyebrow, he waits for my reaction with a guarded expression clouding his face. The chanting picks up, stomping feet joining the shouted cries, and a sense of urgency takes hold in the atmosphere. It cloaks me, making my hair stand on end, and causing my mind to run in a million different directions as dozens of questions, “what if’s”, and all the reasons for and against me and Hooligan bombard me.

  Staring at the gorgeous man in front of me—the man who’s just laid his heart bare for me—I recognize tha
t my choice comes down to two questions.

  What do I have to lose if I trust him?

  Nothing. I’ve already lost everything once before and survived. My dad left me, my mother hates me, Zali doesn’t want anything to do with me, and Cooper will still need me no matter what happens.

  What do I have to gain by seeing where this goes?

  Everything. Happiness, stability, the ability to pursue my dreams...and the love of a good man.

  The answer seems ridiculously clear.

  “I come with a lot of baggage. Cooper. A crazy mother. A messed up sister. I’m nasty. I’m rude. I’ll tell you when I think you’re being an asshole and I won’t bow down to you like your fighters do.”

  “Gabbi. My baggage makes yours look like hand-luggage. I’m a mean son-of-a-bitch. My mouth moves faster than my brain. I’m going to piss you off constantly...” Hooligan counters my arguments with his own. My feet are on auto-pilot, closing the distance between us before I know what they’re doing. My hands meet his hard stomach, sliding over the rippled planes, and then disappearing behind his back.

  Angling my face toward his, I give him one last warning. “I’m not eighteen for another week.”

  He sends a smug smile my way. “I know, that’s why I’m fighting tonight. Come midnight next Saturday, I’m going to be balls deep in your legal pussy. That’s what the MC meant by better plans.”

  Laughing, I push onto the tips of my toes so I can reach his lips. Hooligan holds his mouth out of my reach, the humor in his gaze dying, replaced by a serious expression that’s more-than-a-little pleading.

  “Will you be in my corner, Gabbi? Tonight and for as long as you can put up with me?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Hooligan

  She’s in my arms, right where she should be, and the worry and mistrust that usually glimmers from her amber eyes is missing for once. I should be certain of her answer, but I’m not. Gabbi is a closed book, ferociously brave yet scared of her own shadow at the same time.