Takedown

by Gemma Brooks

  “What?” he asked with a bit of a laugh.

  “If you’re not going to go to the hospital, you’re staying at my place,” I said. “You need to be observed. You’ve sustained a head injury.”

  Rowdy’s lips curled into a humored smile. It was the first time I’d ever seen him smile, and the damn thing lit up his entire face. My knees nearly buckled at the sight. His full lips. His perfect, white teeth. Those dimples.

  “You’re being ridiculous.” He was still smiling which meant he was either entertained by my plans or tired of arguing with me and about to give in.

  “Come on,” I said. I hooked my hand onto his meaty bicep and yanked him towards my parked Corolla. “Get in.”

  He nearly filled out the entire passenger side of my front seat, his legs bent and squished from the lack of legroom. As we situated ourselves, our arms were pressed against one another on the console.

  “How’s your vision?” I asked as we buzzed across town.

  “I don’t know,” he sighed, annoyed with my question. “A little fuzzy.”

  “I really wish you’d let me take you to the doctor.”

  Rowdy sighed again. “Do you know how many of these things I’ve had in my life?”

  “This isn’t your first?!” His confession made this whole thing that much more unnerving. “How many have you had?”

  “I lost count a long time ago,” he said, his eyelids fluttered as he struggled to stay awake.

  “All the more reason why you should be seen,” I snipped. I wanted to tell him to stop being so pigheaded, but I remembered what Eastwood said. He didn’t have insurance. He wasn’t trying to be some tough guy. It wasn’t about that.

  I knew damn well what it felt like to choose food and shelter over medical bills. Growing up with a sick mom, my father was forced to quit his job after his FMLA ran out. He’d stayed home so much to take care of her that he lost the job that kept the roof over our heads and paid her hospital bills.

  I fished around in my purse and pulled out my phone. It was late, but I had no other option.

  “Hello?” Dr. Kimble’s voice said, groggily, on the other end.

  “Dr. Kimble,” I sighed. “I am so, so sorry to bother you, but I need a huge favor.”

  “Oh, no, Gia,” she said. “Is it your father?”

  I’d worked the last couple years as Dr. Kimble’s nurse, and she was one of the kindest, sweetest doctors I’d ever met. She wasn’t egotistical or condescending like some of the others in the clinic. We’d bonded over all the craziness we’d experienced working side by side, and in a roundabout way, she sort of became a surrogate mother to me.

  “It’s not my father, no,” I answered. I didn’t know how to tell her I’d been working on the side for an underground fighting ring. I could lose my license for that. “There’s no easy way to say this, but…”

  I stopped.

  “Gia, what?” she asked. She was fully awake now.

  “I’ve been doing some light nursing stuff for these fighters every Friday night,” I said. “The guy I supervise got a pretty bad concussion tonight, and he refuses to be seen because he has no insurance.”

  “I see,” she said. It was silent for a bit, and it was all I could do to hope I hadn’t jeopardized my career by ratting myself out like that. “Well, meet me at the clinic. I’ll leave here in five minutes.”

  “Thank you so much, Dr. Kimble,” I gushed. “Thank you, thank you.”

  ***

  “We’re here,” I announced softly to him as I pulled into my parking spot at work. His eyes fluttered open and he took a deep breath as he looked around, confused.

  I ran over to the passenger side to help him out, but by the time I got there he was already climbing out by himself.

  “Where are we?” he asked.

  “My clinic,” I said. “Remember? I’m taking care of you tonight.”

  I swiped my badge and hoped the clinic manager wouldn’t check the security log on Monday. I’d definitely lose my job.

  “There you are,” Dr. Kimble said as she rushed towards us. She grabbed Rowdy’s other arm and helped me escort him to an exam room. It was odd seeing her in sweats and a t-shirt and not scrubs and a lab coat. Sometimes we put doctors on pedestals and forget that they’re regular people too.

  I stood back and watched her take his vitals and examine his vision and ask him a myriad of questions.

  “Well, Gia,” she said with her hands on her hips. “It’s a good thing you brought him in, but I think tonight you just need to do an observation. He needs to rest, but you’ll need to wake him up at intervals. If at any time he doesn’t wake up, you’ll need to call 9-1-1. Put ice on his head to help with swelling and keep him comfortable. That’s about all you can do right now.”

  “Thank you so much, Dr. Kimble,” I said as I helped Rowdy up from the table. “I am so sorry to get you involved in my mess. I just couldn’t send him home tonight.”

  Her tired eyes crinkled as her lips turned into a smile. “You’re a good nurse, Gia.” She patted my back and turned to walk out of the room.

  ***

  Back at my place, I led the way with Rowdy just a few steps behind me. It would be slightly awkward having some guy I barely knew sleeping on my couch, but I had to follow Dr. Kimble’s orders.

  “Smells like a chick’s place,” Rowdy said as we walked in the front door. “What is that? Potpourri?”

  Glad to see he had a tiny bit of a sense of humor considering how awkward this was, I replied, “No, smart ass. It’s a reed diffuser. Now sit down on the couch and make yourself comfortable.”

  Even in his drowsy state, Rowdy seemed a little uncomfortable as he tried to make himself at home on my couch. He kicked off his sneakers, fluffed the throw pillow behind him, and yanked the knit blanket from the back of the couch.

  “What?” he said after he caught me staring.

  “Nothing,” I replied as I made my way to the kitchen. I turned my head quickly, having not meant to stare at him that long. It had been at least a year since a man had stayed at my place. If my ex, a wanna-be MMA fighter, knew that some rough and tumble Hercules was staying on my couch, he would’ve shat himself for a myriad of reasons.

  “What are you doing over there?” Rowdy called to me.

  “Making a pot of coffee,” I said. “It’s going to be a long night.”

  “You didn’t have to do this,” he said as he messed with the blanket. It was hardly big enough to cover his massive frame and his feet stuck out from the bottom.

  The comforting aroma of fresh, brewing coffee filled the small space that made up my little apartment. As I waited for the coffee to finish, I filled a plastic baggie with handful of ice cubes and walked it over to him.

  “Here,” I said as I placed it on the top of his head. “Hold this.”

  He breathed in through his teeth as the freezing plastic touched his skin. His eyebrows scrunched and then released as he eased into the frosty sensation before burrowing back into the pillow behind him.

  I filled my favorite lavender mug clear to the top with black coffee and returned to take a seat in the chair beside him.

  “I’m really sorry, but I’ll have to wake you every fifteen or twenty minutes for the next couple hours,” I said as I turned out the lamp. “Just want to apologize in advance.”

  “Nothing like having a pretty girl watch you sleep all night,” he mumbled.

  “Wh-what was that?” I asked. Did he just call me pretty?

  He muttered something under his breath but I couldn’t make it out. He rolled over and faced me and the ice pack fell to the carpet beneath the couch. Soon enough he was out cold. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness that filled the space around us, just enough moonlight trickled in through the blinds to illuminate the space around Rowdy. My fingers ruffled against the thick carpeting in search of the plastic baggie. I’d have held it on his head all night if I had to.

  The inner stillness that defined him during his wakefulne
ss followed him into the depth of his slumber as well. Crouching on my knees, I held the ice pack on his head and listened to the faint sound of his breathing. His chest rose and fell with each quiet breath, and it took everything I had not to run my fingers through his soft, blond hair or across his perfect cupid’s bow.

  Strong yet quiet. Powerful yet peaceful. Closed off yet generous. Rowdy was an anomaly.

  I rested my eyes for just one second and woke to find my head resting against the side of the couch, mere inches from his. Something about just being in his presence made me feel safe and at ease. And calm. Rowdy made me feel calm.

  I barely knew the man, but I knew right then and there that I wanted to marry him someday.

  CHAPTER 4

  As my dad dropped me off at Rowdy’s shop the following Monday after work, a jolt of excitement rushed through me at the mere thought of seeing him again.

  “Hi, Frankie,” I said as I approached the counter with a ridiculously huge smile on my face. I couldn’t help it. The excitement could not be contained. “Here to pick up my car.”

  Frankie flashed me an apprehensive look before opening the door to the shop and yelling for Rowdy.

  Seconds later, Rowdy emerged from behind the door with my keys in his hand.

  “Car’s good to go now, Gia,” he said as he handed them to me. “You should get another fifty-thousand or so out of it.”

  “Fifty thousand?” I repeated. “Miles?”

  Rowdy’s lips curved into a smile. “Yes. That’s what I said.”

  It took everything I had not to let my jaw drop to the floor. Not only did I not have to pay for thousands of dollars worth or repairs, I now had a car that was going to last me several more years.

  “Th-thank you,” I stammered. I stifled the urge to jump up onto the counter and throw my arms around him. “You’re too nice.”

  Frankie rolled his eyes and walked off.

  “Not a problem,” Rowdy said. His eyebrows were raised as we sat there in awkward silence as he waited for me to make the next move.

  “Hey, it’s almost time for you guys to close up shop,” I said. “Why don’t I take you out for dinner? It’s the least I can do.”

  Rowdy raked his blackened, greasy fingers through his blonde hair. “Ah, Gia, that’s nice of you to offer. I’m way too dirty. I can’t go out looking like this.”

  “Please?” I wasn’t too proud to beg. I had to spend more time with this man. “Otherwise I’m going to go around the rest of my life feeling like I have to make it up to you. And if you don’t let me make it up to you, then what will become of me?”

  His lips twisted into a conservative grin that nearly made me melt right there on the spot. Those lips and the dimples that accompanied them made my heart skip not one beat but two.

  “Alright, alright,” he caved. “Let me go home and get cleaned up first. I’ll meet you in an hour at Pop’s Diner.”

  An hour later, I sat anxiously waiting for him to arrive. I’d gone ahead and found us a booth in the back corner away from all the families and Chatty Cathy’s that surrounded the tables by the main entrance.

  My fingers drummed against the Formica table before running my fingertips along the smooth, ridged silver edging. I polished the silverware at the table and rearranged the salt and pepper shakers. I organized the sugar packets by color, then rearranged them alphabetically.

  “Ma’am, can I get you something to drink while you’re waiting?” my waitress, an older woman with a white bouffant hairstyle asked. “We have Coke products.”

  “Water, please,” I said. With all my nervous jitters, the last thing I needed was more caffeine in my system. “Thanks.”

  She returned a minute later and sat a clear plastic cup in front of me filled to the brim with ice cubes and water. I popped the straw in and took several long, cool sips. The icy water rushing down my throat calmed me down a bit, but before I’d taken my fourth gulp, I felt a presence standing before me.

  The straw left my lips and my eyes traveled the length of his unstinting frame and took sanctuary in his crystal blue gaze. His hair was still damp from his shower, but it was tucked back behind his ears. The faint scent of Irish Spring soap and some kind of woodsy aftershave permeated into the air around him and into my space.

  Rowdy slid into the booth, taking his place across from me, and reached for a menu from behind the napkin holder.

  “I’m starving,” he said. His eyes scanned the menu from left to right, then top to bottom.

  “Me too,” I said.

  “You know what you’re having?”

  “Yep.”

  Things were already getting off to an awkward start, but being around him left me sort of paralyzed. I just wanted to stare at him and take him in, like he was some sort of rare work of art hanging on the wall of a museum I might only get to visit once in my lifetime. I studied him like it was my job, trying to take in every nuance and mannerism.

  “So how is it we’ve never met before?” Rowdy finally broke the silence. “It’s not like Wagner is a big town.”

  “I attended Saint Mary’s,” I said, referring to the private Catholic school in town.

  “Ah,” Rowdy said. I knew what he was inferring. All the rich kids in town attended Saint Mary’s.

  “I attended on scholarship,” I added. I wanted him to know I was not one of those snobby, silver-spooned rich kids I was forced to associate with all those years.

  “You attended Mountainside?” I asked.

  “Only high school in town,” he replied. “Graduated five years ago. Been working for my dad ever since.”

  “So how’d you get into fighting then?” A man doesn’t go around beating people up in alleys for no reason. He had to have started somewhere.

  Rowdy shrugged, and his face indicated I’d asked a sore question. “Frankie has cerebral palsy. Kids would make fun of him. I’d kick their asses.”

  “That’s really sweet actually,” I said. My head tilted to the side as I admired his protective spirit. “He’s lucky to have you for a big brother.”

  Rowdy raised his eyebrows like it was nothing, like he was just doing his job.

  “So who were you beating up in the alley?” I asked as I took a sip of my water. “That day that Eastwood found you.”

  “How do you know about that?” He seemed semi-creeped out by the fact that I knew that.

  “I overheard some of the men talking at that first fight,” I admitted.

  “You two ready to order?” Our waitress approached the table, tablet and pen in hand.

  We placed our orders and before he had a chance to answer my question, he’d switched the subject.

  “How’d you get into nursing?” he asked.

  “My mom had pancreatic cancer,” I said. My eyes averted to the window outside as the sun was starting to set. “We spent a lot of time at the hospital. I guess it just became a part of life. Felt like a normal transition after high school.”

  “Where’d you go to school?”

  “Mountain View University,” I said.

  “Scholarship?”

  “Nope,” I replied with pursed lips. “And I’ve got the pile of student loans to prove it.”

  “So you had a scholarship to Saint Mary’s, but you couldn’t get a college scholarship?” He seemed baffled.

  “I needed-” I began to say. “Um, I wanted to stay close to home.”

  Really I wanted to stay close to him. My ex. Dumbest decision ever and now I was paying for it. Literally. I’d been offered scholarships, sure, but not to the one school that would keep me closest to Drew.

  Our food arrived and Rowdy wasted no time digging in, his elbows resting on the table as he shoveled forkful after forkful of pasta into his mouth.

  “Did you go to college?” I turned the tables.

  “No,” Rowdy said as he rubbed his hands together. “I’ve always liked working with my hands. Plus my dad wanted me to work for him.”

  “But you’re a fighter too,�
� I said. “Those guys that watch you fight, they talk about how great you are.”

  Rowdy tried to stifle a proud smile, and I got the sense that he probably wasn’t complimented all that often.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’d love to go pro someday. That’s a pipe dream though. I’ll probably stay here in Wagner forever, working at Dad’s shop.”

  “So you’re big into MMA?” I asked.