by Sarina Bowen
Tonight was a little harder, because he couldn’t seem to keep the guy in his sights. His vision was blocked by images of Courtney. Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to shake his heavy thoughts or the pain of losing a woman he had come to love. Love. Yeah, he did love Courtney. Faults and all, she owned his heart. It was stupid to keep denying it. Should he have said something to her before now about how much he cared about her? Was that what had made her push him away? Did she think he wasn’t serious about her and was only after sex?
A nice right hook from his opponent brought Ian out of his stupor just as his mind was simplifying things for him and providing information that might actually help the whole situation. The physical pain was nothing, but the feeling that the man had just come between Ian and Courtney by pulling his thoughts away from her at such a potentially clarifying point made him mad. Really mad. Another punch and a kick to his ribs snapped the last bits of control Ian had left after two weeks without her.
He allowed his anger over the downward turn his life had taken to boil over like a kettle of water on the red-hot burner of a stove. Punching the man repeatedly and returning the kick only seemed to make his opponent angrier. The referee blew his whistle and the bell sounded, indicating the end of the round. Suddenly what had been a professional match became a street fight. The aggression in the audience was palpable and added not only to Ian’s mental state but to his opponent’s, as well. Ian heard the referee blowing his whistle repeatedly, but neither he nor the other fighter paid any attention.
Rusty yelling at him was the only thing that filtered through the haze of rage Ian was allowing to consume him.
“Ian! You have to stop this. Right now!” Rusty yelled.
Ian finally released the man, pushing him back a few steps, only to have his opponent rush him yet again. Seeing the other fighter barrel toward him, Ian pulled out the move Jess had used against him and hit the punk square on the chin. Just as he had done when it happened to him, the man went down, much like felling a tree.
The referee again blew his whistle and yelled over the roar of the crowd, “You’re out, Hamilton!”
Suddenly Ronnie was in his face. “Enough! Back to your area. Now, Sergeant!”
Ronnie actually looked angry, which was unusual for the normally peaceful man, and Ian felt bad about what he had just done. It was unprofessional and maybe even assault.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry,” he mumbled as Ronnie grabbed one arm and Rusty grabbed the other. They dragged him out of the octagon, through the black curtain and over to a chair.
All three of them were breathing heavily and were soon joined by Seth, who also didn’t look too happy. His three closest friends in the whole world closed ranks around him, each standing over him with arms crossed over their chests as if trying to decide if he should have to run until dawn over this latest infraction. None of them said anything, and he remained quiet, as well. What could he say? Rusty had been right. He should have never taken this fight. He knew it, and so did they.
The owner of the circuit made his way over. Unable to edge between his brothers in arms, the man instead made his way around to stand behind Ian’s chair.
“Hamilton, you’re done fighting in this circuit. Your blatant disregard for the rules and the referee just sent one of my best fighters to the emergency room. You turned this into a schoolyard brawl, and I won’t have that. I’m sorry, but you’re done here. I don’t want to see you back here as a fighter or a guest,” the owner said angrily.
“I’m guessing the same goes for the other fighter?” Jess said, stepping up to stand next to Ronnie.
“Yes, Reynolds, it does! In fact I’d be willing to say both fighters are finished in this sport for good after tonight’s stunt. Now take your fighter and get the hell out of here before I have you all thrown out!” the man said, eyeing them all and then stomping away.
“Don’t let the big, bad wolf scare you, my little piggy. He can huff and puff all he wants, but the sound of that crowd out there tells me the dollar signs will go a long way in helping him forgive you. I won’t lie. It’s probably going to take a little bit, but I think you need a break anyway,” Jess quipped.
“You know I never fight angry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been in the ring tonight. My brain was somewhere else and I just…” He tried to explain. “I screwed up, and yet again you all had to save my ass. I’m sorry.”
Looking up at his brothers in arms, who knew what he meant by that statement, he saw each man’s expression change. It was true though and needed to be said. They all had something going for themselves. Ronnie and Seth were both married and attending school for admirable future careers. Rusty owned his own house and business. That left only Ian, the big dummy of the group, to get his shit together. It was obvious after tonight that his attempts weren’t going so well. Yet again they had to bail him out.
Unable to face them, he stood up and pushed the chair back with his leg, grabbed the bag he’d brought and headed out the exit. The ride back from the fight seemed to take forever, thankfully. He needed every moment to pull himself together.
Yes, he had once again fucked up. Like Kayla had been for Ronnie, and Tori had been for Seth, Ian had thought Courtney was going to be his saving grace. Sometimes he wondered if there was such a thing for him. He sure wasn’t as tough as Rusty, who didn’t need anyone.
Somehow over the past couple of weeks Ian had managed to lose the woman he loved. Now he had lost the ability to participate in the one sport he enjoyed and was good at. All he had left was school, which he doubted he could get through without Courtney’s help. For the first time in his life he understood what his mother meant when she used to say that the only thing the world had to offer for someone like her was a bottle of whiskey.
He made it back to Rusty’s house, managed a shower and then lay wide awake long after hearing Rusty return and go to bed. Facing his friends in the coming days would suck, but not nearly as bad as facing the man whose fighting career he might have ruined right along with his own. Whether the man had actually been legitimately angry or not did not excuse Ian’s behavior. Two wrongs didn’t make a right—more pearls of wisdom Mr. Yazzi had shared that obviously hadn’t sunk in as well as his lessons on herbs and roots.
Banging on his bedroom door startled him awake. Glancing at the alarm clock, he realized it was late morning. He never slept in, but between yesterday’s fight and not being able to fall asleep until early this morning, he was exhausted. Sitting up, he threw his legs over his bed and ran his hand over his face just as Rusty opened his door.
“I managed to find information on the other fellow involved in all this mess. It might behoove you to pay him a visit and apologize for opening a can of whoop ass on him last night when he had nothing to do with this bullshit between you and Courtney,” Rusty said. “I trained you better than that, Sergeant. You never lose your head in any fight. You get the job done…period. Now get your ass up and in the shower. I’m going with you to make sure you ladies can act like civilized human beings, but quite frankly I have other shit to do this weekend that doesn’t involve playing daddy to a grown-ass man such as yourself.”
With that, Rusty left the bedroom door open and walked back into the living room. Ian hated that he had pissed off the man. He hadn’t done that in years and didn’t much like it now any better than he had back then. Rusty would expect him to be ready in about fifteen minutes. He managed to hit the shower and get dressed, even straighten his room, in that time, and made it to the kitchen to find Rusty at the table sipping what was probably his fifth or sixth cup of coffee. Another steaming mug sat on the table for Ian. He had earned this ass-chewing and would take it like a soldier. Sitting down, he managed a sip before Rusty started in.
“I can’t pretend to understand what has your panties in such a knot, but I will say this, I have never had my head so far up a woman’s ass that I can’t function in polite society. This isn’t combat, soldier, thi
s is life—your life, and you will seriously fuck it up if you keep pulling stunts like you did last night. I realize breaking up was your decision, not hers, and I know that your reasons are good ones. However, I don’t think kicking the shit out of a man in her presence and then stomping off like a two-year-old is the way to patch things up with her.”
Courtney had been there? Great. As if things weren’t bad enough. Courtney had seen what he’d done. Just what he needed, her to see him lose it and become the ogre she’d always expected him to turn into, complete with beating people to a pulp.
“That’s right, Sergeant. Your cute little girlfriend watched you wrestle in the dirt with another man like you were a stark-raving lunatic. It’s one thing to do that shit to stay alive—it’s another to do it for fun. I told you this fighting gig was complete nonsense,” Rusty continued once he knew that his words had hit their target. “May I suggest that you reconsider your career choice and pay someone to help you through school until you’re able to convince Ms. Wells that all my soldiers are respectable men who would never harm someone merely out of anger?”
“Did you see her after the fight?” Ian choked out in spite of the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“No, I did not. I was too busy dragging your ass back in line. So once we get back from meeting with this man and his manager, so I can carry on with my own day, you might want to try calling her,” Rusty said, standing up.
The car ride took two full lifetimes. He could have sworn that Rusty drove even slower than normal just to annoy him. The silence only added to the awkwardness of the situation. Each time Ian would sigh too loudly or shift in his seat, Rusty would look over at him and frown as if daring him to say something. Rusty was a hard one to figure sometimes, but one thing was certain, whether deployed or stateside, he was an intimidating son of a bitch.
When they made it to the hotel where the other fighter was staying, the man’s manager answered the door and ushered them inside. The other fighter didn’t look any worse than Ian did, considering the abuse they had dealt out to each other. All the anger from the night before was gone, and the man sat on the edge of one of the beds in the room.
“I’m Pete and this is my manager, Gary,” the man finally said, standing up and stepping over to them.
“Ian. And this is my friend Rusty,” he replied, holding out his hand.
After a few intense seconds Pete shook Ian’s hand and then let out a small laugh. “Damn, man, you pack one hell of a punch. Gary kept telling me someday someone was going to measure up and you, my friend, you most definitely measure up.”
Ian couldn’t help but let out a laugh of his own. “Right back at you. I haven’t had my bell rang that well since shooting off my mouth to my manager, Jess. Listen, if it would help at all, I’d be happy to write a letter to the organizers and the owner and see if they’d let you back in. I’m not sure I’m really cut out for this fighting thing. I’m in school now and should probably put my focus there, anyway,” he replied.
“Oh, no need for all that. Gary here has been on the phone most of the morning with one of the top ten organizations in the league. Seems one of their crew was in the audience last night and liked what he saw—from both of us. Says he’s interested in talking to us,” Pete said as Gary reached around and handed him a card with a name and phone number on the back.
“I’ll think about it, but if things don’t work out for you with this guy and you want another shot in this circuit, let me know and I’ll try to help you get back in. I shouldn’t have lost my cool like that,” Ian said. “That was my bad and I’ll do what I can to make it right.”
“Nah, we’re good,” Pete said, waving off the apology. “Seriously, though, man, if you do decide to hook up with this dude and we end up in the same circuit, I want a rematch for sure. This time I’ll be ready for you.”
They talked a little while longer about some of the people they had both fought and Ian’s time in the military. By the time they left Ian had to respect Rusty for making him come and apologize like a kindergartner at recess. He’d made a friend today. One whose ass he might need to kick again in the future, but a friend nonetheless.
When they made it back to the house Ian went to his room and sat on his bed trying to get up the nerve to call Courtney. What the hell could he say to convince her that what she had witnessed last night was a fluke? Of all the people to witness his less-than-stellar moment why did it have to be her?
After a few minutes he sucked it up and dialed her number only for it to go to voicemail. Damn. If she had come to the fight last night to talk to him, maybe even to apologize for pushing him away, today she was back to not taking his calls. This was not a good sign. Maybe she was just busy. Deciding to try her again later, he headed out to the living room.
Rusty was on the phone making arrangements for what sounded like a trip. As Ian sat on the couch he wondered what he would do if Courtney never answered his call. If she wasn’t so damn cute and sweet he might have been able to consider this one of those things that just didn’t work out. But he couldn’t let her go, not after all they had been through together. Hell no. He would just give her more time. She would come back around eventually. She had to.
With a heavy sigh, he headed back to his room and lay on his bed, but he couldn’t stand it. He had to try calling again. It hadn’t been more than a half an hour, but he found himself dialing anyway. Once more, no answer. Knowing this was going to drive him crazy he decided to call Jess instead. He had dealt with Rusty’s wrath, now it was time to face his friend.
“How you feeling this morning there, Brutus?” Jess answered.
“Like shit. Is she ever going to speak to me again after last night?” he asked.
“Hold up there, Shotgun. You’ve got to work up to those kinds of questions. You can’t just go in like that. It takes a little finesse, some foreplay or something. You can’t just call me up and ask about my girl like that without groveling a little first,” she replied.
“I’m serious, Jess. I’m sick about it, and I think I’m going to puke,” he said. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were going to bring her last night?”
“So had you known in advance that I was bringing Olive Oyl to the fight you might have cut back on the spinach just a little so as not to scare her?” Jess asked incredulously. “I didn’t realize you had different styles of fighting—one for when you were trying to get into a professional circuit and not scare Ms. Courtney Wells and another for when you’re ready to throw all that training away and go balls to the wall. You should warn a person which day of your cycle you’re on!”
“She won’t answer my phone calls,” he tried again.
“Hell, I almost didn’t answer your call!” Jess exclaimed angrily. “I realize you were the one unleashing all the fury of hell last night, but you didn’t really get the good view of crazy fucker that the rest of us did, Ian! You were out of control, my friend, and when you were done she was ready to leave. So no, I’m going to go out on a limb and say she’s probably not ready to talk to you just yet. Give her time to digest that you do, in fact, have it in you to get angry and completely lose it. Fortunately the man you decided to go there with had enough in him to handle your shit. How pissed is Gary Simpson by the way?”
“He’s got a lead on one of those professional circuits you’ve been crying about since I met you. Rusty made me go down there this morning to apologize to both Pete and Gary. While we were there Gary gave me the info for some guy who saw the fight and wants to talk.”
“Those are the kind of pretty words you need to be saying to a woman. Keep talking, Big Daddy,” Jess said, sounding considerably less angry.
“The only problem is I’m finally ready to listen to reason. I need to take a break from fighting and focus on school. At least until I’ve got a hold on myself,” he said.
“Just couldn’t stop while you were ahead could you? Well, that was a mood killer.” Jess sighed. “Just give her a few days. She
was ready to talk to you before the fight. One screwup on your part isn’t going to completely change that. It’s likely going to delay the process, but if she cares about you as much as you care about her, she won’t be able to stay away for long.”
He gave Jess both Gary’s phone number and the number from the back of the card before hanging up. Waiting out Courtney this time was going to suck worse than the past two weeks. Especially since prior to this he hadn’t made any major mistakes in this thing he had going with her. He was willing to forgive her imperfections if she would give him a chance and forgive him, as well.
As he headed back to the living room he found Rusty in the kitchen pouring a cup of coffee. In his casual way, Rusty let Ian know he was listening.
“She won’t take my call,” Ian finally answered Rusty’s unspoken question.
“Just give her some space. In the meantime, pack some things. We’re heading down to Florida for a week or so while school is on break. I have a friend I’d like all you guys to meet. Greg Sanders and I went to the same high school and attended the police academy together as well, many years ago. I haven’t seen him since we all got out of the service and thought this was as good a time as any. Maybe a change of scenery will do you some good. Seth and Tori are going to take the boy to Disney World while Ronnie, Kayla and Addie visit family in Georgia. I thought you and I could find something to keep us entertained for a few days,” Rusty replied.
Ian wasn’t really in the mood for a vacation, but it would be better than slumping around here for days on end waiting on a call that might never come. At the same time, though, he wasn’t sure how much fun he would be when his heart would still be here waiting on Courtney to come back to him.
