Takedown

by Gemma Brooks

  His hold on me loosened as he started to come to.

  “Morning,” I said with a grin.

  Rowdy stretched out next to me then began to rub his eyes before sitting up, and just when I feared we were right back to square one he said, “Wanna get breakfast?”

  We freshened up and headed downstairs to the lobby where his Zanical XT-wrapped Hummer waited for us, parked in the valet drive.

  “A Hummer?” I teased. “Never thought you were a Hummer kind of guy.”

  He flashed a half-smile. “It was a gift.”

  “Obviously.”

  We drove to a little café just on the outskirts of north Vegas, away from the endless casinos, hotels, and the odd early morning tourists. It was early enough that the sun was just beginning to peek up over the horizon. In a weird way, it was just the two of us in our own little world.

  The booth in the café was our own little cocoon. Just us. No distractions, no adoring fans, and no one to bother us. I wanted to stretch every minute with him as far as it would go. Every second that passed was a second closer to saying goodbye to him for who knew how long.

  “How are you holding up?” I asked. I blew on the steaming cup of black coffee under my lips before taking a conservative sip. “Physically I mean. Any more concussions?”

  Rowdy looked amused that I was still hung up on that. “No concussions.”

  Relief washed over me. “Okay. Good.”

  “It’s sweet that you worry,” Rowdy said. He took a swig of orange juice. Two gulps and his glass was already half empty. “They have medical professionals at every fight. There are more rules. Regulations. The fights aren’t stacked like they were when I was with Eastwood.”

  “Still doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt,” I reminded him. “With your history, one concussion could be bad for you. Really bad. I don’t think you realize that.”

  I didn’t mean to argue with him, and I certainly didn’t want to ruin the moment, but I needed him to understand where I was coming from.

  “Gia,” Rowdy sighed. He was annoyed with me, I could tell. “This is a part of me. This is who I am. This is what I’m doing.”

  In other words, he was telling me to stop trying to talk him out of fighting. Maybe someday if I were lucky he’d love me more than he loved fighting.

  The waitress brought the ticket a short time later, and our time together was coming to an end. It wouldn’t be long before I was back on the road, cruising past miles of desert and mountains and ditch weeds until I reached Wagner. Rowdy would go back to his training and fighting and autograph signing, and all that would remain between us would be this final moment together.

  “So,” I said as we returned to the Mandalay Bay resort. “My car is that way.”

  I pointed to the parking garage.

  “Want me to walk you there?” Rowdy offered.

  “It’s okay,” I said. I didn’t want him to see me cry. It was coming, I could feel it. I wouldn’t be able to fight it off much longer.

  I wanted to ask when I’d see him again. I wanted to tell him I enjoyed our time together but I didn’t have to. I could see it in his eyes. He felt the same way. Admitting those things out loud wouldn’t do either of us any good. It would only make things worse. We couldn’t be together. Not now anyway.

  CHAPTER 11

  “Damn it!” I yelled out as I banged my fist against the steering wheel. My check engine light blinked red as white steam escaped from under my hood. I pulled off the busy road and onto a side street in a residential area.

  I thought Rowdy had fixed my car. It was as good as new, he told me.

  “Fifty-thousand more miles my ass,” I sneered. Though my anger was directed more towards my car and not at Rowdy. “Piece of shit.”

  I climbed out of my car before it had a chance to implode on me and walked down the street, phone in hand, as I racked my brain. I couldn’t call my dad. He didn’t know the first thing about cars. I certainly wasn’t going to call my ex. I wouldn’t have called him if he were the last person on earth. I’d let my AAA membership lapse the previous year due to a lack of any extra funds. I was screwed.

  I took a seat on the curb as the steam began to dissipate little by little. I pulled my phone up and began Googling terms like, “engine steam” or “steam coming from car hood”. After reading about three articles, I’d determined it could’ve been a lot of things.

  “Hello?” I’d decided to call Rowdy even though it had been weeks since I saw him last, and thank God he answered. I crossed my fingers that he’d be able to help even though he was hours away. “Gia? What’s going on?”

  “My car’s on fire,” I sighed.

  “What?!”

  “Okay, it’s not on fire, but there’s steam coming out from under the hood,” I said. I tried to fight off the helpless whine in my tone. “Should I open it and get all the steam out?”

  “God, no!” Rowdy said, his voice elevated. “It’s hot, Gia. Don’t touch it. Let me call my dad. Where are you?”

  Even from a hundred miles away, Rowdy could still come to my rescue, and within twenty minutes, his dad pulled up in his tow truck and backed up to my sad little Toyota.

  “Thanks so much for coming,” I thanked him the second he climbed down from his rig. “I don’t know what’s wrong with this stupid thing.”

  “No problem,” his dad said. He offered a kind smile and I felt a little less guilty about taking advantage of his generosity. “You can climb in. I’ll get everything hooked up and we’ll pull ‘er back to the shop and see what’s going on.”

  I climbed up into the passenger seat of the truck. Everything about it reminded me of Rowdy: the scent of oil, the rust along the side reminiscent of the rust that covered Rowdy’s faithful red beater, the heavy, uneven rumbling of the motor. A dingy blue and white Dodgers ball cap sat squished between the window and the dash, and I wondered if Rowdy had ever worn it.

  His dad climbed back into the rig and put the truck into drive. The ride was a bit bouncier than I expected and the engine roared and revved with every hill and acceleration. Back at the shop, I took a seat in the waiting area as I waited for the final verdict.

  “What’s different? Something’s different,” I said to Frankie as I looked around the room.

  Frankie looked up, as if it were glaringly obvious.

  “Oh!” I yelled out. “You got new chairs in here. I thought they felt a little more comfortable.”

  Frankie nodded outside towards the sign. It was a shiny, new electronic sign with their shop name and logo across it. “$19.95 Oil Change Special!” flashed below it.

  “And a new sign?” I was excited for them, truly.

  “Thanks to my old Rowdy boy,” his dad said as he came in mid-conversation. “He’s really taking care of us.”

  My heart warmed. Rowdy was living his dream, fighting in the pros and taking care of his family.

  “He’s a good guy, your son,” I said. Sometimes I missed him so much it hurt. This was one of those moments.

  “Hey, you know he’s coming home this weekend, right?” his dad said.

  “I had no idea,” I replied. The fact that he hadn’t mentioned it to me stung a little, but I forced myself to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was going to tell me but hadn’t gotten around to it yet?

  “We’re having sort of a surprise homecoming party for him,” his dad said. “Down at the sports bar on the square. You should come. I bet he’d love to see you.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’d love to see him too.”

  “Your car’s good to go now,” his dad said as he slapped my keys on the table and gave me a wink. “On the house of course.”

  CHAPTER 12

  I’d never seen the parking lot of the local sports bar so packed before. Half of Wagner was there, I’d determined. I ended up parking a few blocks down the street and making the trek in the ridiculously uncomfortable high heels I just had to wear that night.

  I composed myself outside the
door, adjusted my shirt, and smoothed down any windblown hairs I’d picked up on the walk over. The front door blew open as a couple people walked outside to have a smoke. Blaring music and laughter lured me inside.

  My eyes scanned the room in search of Rowdy, but through the thick sea of people he was nowhere to be found.

  “Gia!” I heard a man’s voice yell out. My heart raced and my lips curled into a smile as I spun around. But only it wasn’t who I thought it would be. “Gia, hey.”

  “Hi, Drew,” I said. I hadn’t seen my ex in almost a year, and that was a good thing.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. He took a swig from his frosty beer mug as his eyes searched my body up and down likely trying to gauge whether or not I’d gained any weight since we broke up. He was an ass like that. “I thought you hated UFC?”

  “Oh, yeah, well,” I searched for a plausible explanation he’d buy, but nothing came to mind quick enough. “This is the place to be tonight, am I right? Local celebrity. Have you had a chance to meet him yet?”

  Drew was my high school boyfriend and the sole reason I attended the nearest college that also happened to be the most expensive in the state. For a long time, he was my reason for living. At least he was until he cheated on me. Five years together must have been five years too long for him. Once the boredom set in, there was nothing I could do. I wish I had seen it coming. I wish I hadn’t have walked in on it. The kicker of it all was that he had the audacity to ask me to give him another chance. My only regret was not getting a picture of the look on his face as I kicked him to the curb.

  “Not yet,” he said. “He’s been surrounded by a shit ton of people. Can’t even get close to him.”

  “That sucks,” I said. I then muttered, “for you.”

  “What’d you say?” he yelled out over the blaring music.

  “Nothing,” I flashed a sly smile. My eyes searched the room once more for Rowdy.

  “So what have you been up to?” Drew asked. His feet were firmly planted in front of me. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  I groaned on the inside and wished he wasn’t wasting my time. I had no interest in catching up with him or making small talk.

  “Working,” I said, eyes still searching the room.

  “I just got promoted,” he said with a smug smile. “Assistant Director of Marketing Relations.”

  Sounded like a bullshit title to me. “You got promoted? At your dad’s company? Good for you. I’m sure you earned it.”

  Drew scrunched his nose at me. His dense mind apparently picked up on my sarcasm for once.

  “Just got a new car too,” he said. “I leased an Acura. I can let you drive it sometime if you want.”

  I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. “No, thanks.”

  I caught his expression long to enough to see that he was perplexed as to why I wasn’t foaming at the mouth over how wonderful he was trying to make himself seem.

  “How’s Lexi?” I asked. Lexi was the girl I’d caught him screwing in our bed when I came home from work early that fateful afternoon.

  Drew shook his head and swallowed the rest of his beer.

  “Excuse me,” I finally said as I side stepped him and went to find Rowdy. I circled the packed bar, barely able to wade through the throngs of people, and spotted Rowdy standing in the middle of a circle of adoring local fans. I tried to budge and nudge my way through, but no one was moving. Everyone towered over my petite frame and was too busy oohing and aahing over Rowdy to even notice me.

  Frustrated, I pushed my way back towards the bar where I waited way too long to get a cup of ice water. I didn’t plan to stay long. It wasn’t going to be a good time to talk to him anyway, but I at least wanted to see him and show my support.

  “Hey,” I heard a man’s voice as I leaned against the bar waiting for my water. I couldn’t help but smile. He’d finally seen me. I spun around slowly to face him. “Oh.”

  It was Drew. Again.

  “Just getting another drink,” he said.

  “And you had to come right here?” I said. My tone was snotty, but I didn’t care. The bar was a good twenty feet long. He could’ve gone to the other end. This was on purpose.

  Drew played dumb, shrugged his shoulders, and acted like it wasn’t intentional. It had been at least a good year since I’d left his cheating ass, and I hadn’t looked back once. He’d reached out to me every day at first, then once a week, then once a month until several months had passed without so much as a text message from him. He never could get over the fact that I broke him with him.

  Drew inched closer into my personal space, almost so close I could feel his breath on my neck. The faint, familiar smell of his memory-evoking YSL cologne took me, for a second, to happier times. Joy riding together after class. Friday night dates at our special place. Movies and popcorn on the sofa. Prom. Graduation. Promises our younger selves whispered to each other before we knew a damn thing about the real world and what life was really going to be like.

  He leaned his elbows against the bar and turned to face me. “It’s really good seeing you here tonight, Gia.”

  His green eyes crinkled at the corners a bit as he smiled and studied my face. I didn’t know if he was being genuine or if he was trying to prove to himself that he still had a chance. It didn’t matter though. I forced myself to get over him the day I found him and Lexi together. Gia Caruso was a lot of things, I had to remind myself, but she was not a doormat.

  The bartender was taking forever on my cup of water and I was about ready to walk away until something caught my eye. Rowdy was working his way closer to me, but he was still a good half way across the room. A jolt of excitement shot through me at the realization that he’d spotted me and was coming my way. In that moment, it didn’t matter that he didn’t tell me he was coming home. I just wanted to reconnect with him if only for a little while.

  “You look really pretty tonight,” Drew said as he flashed a dimpled smile. He always was a charming bastard.

  “Thanks,” I said. I avoided his eye contact. I didn’t appreciate where he was trying to go with this. He had a lot of nerve assuming he even stood a chance in hell with me again. He’d kissed that goodbye the second he stuck his pencil dick in Lexi Followill.

  I slid off the barstool, abandoning my quest for quenched thirst, and straightened my shirt as I fully intended to meet Rowdy halfway.

  “I saw your dad the other day,” Drew said.

  I groaned on the inside. He wasn’t getting the hint. How could he not know that I wanted absolutely nothing to do with him?

  “That’s nice,” I said.

  “You done with this?” a balding man in his early forties asked as he pointed to my seat.

  “All yours,” I said with a smile. He had no idea he’d just come to my rescue. “Drew, I, uh, will talk to you another time.”

  Drew’s face scrunched as he felt the sting of being rebuffed by the girl he’d always reminded how lucky she was to be with him.

  My eyes searched for Rowdy once more, but it appeared the sea of people had swallowed him up. I flung my purse over my shoulder and prepared to brave the crowd once again in search of him, but the second I took a step, I felt a hand on my wrist as I was pulled backwards.

  “What are you doing? Let go of me,” I snapped at Drew as I yanked my hand back. “Are you insane? Don’t touch me.”

  Before I had chance to smack him across the face, he was standing before me, mere inches from my face with his hands resting on my hips.

  “Don’t do this, Gia.” He pleaded with his eyes. “I just want to talk to you. Why are you trying to get away?”

  I tried to move back a few inches but his hold on me was too strong. He wasn’t letting me go anytime soon.

  “We spent a lot of years together,” he said. “Didn’t that mean anything to you?”

  “Ha,” I yelled. “Poor choice of words there. I should be asking you the same thing.”

  “People make mi
stakes all the time, Gia,” he said. He lowered his lips to my ear. “I made mistakes. I was weak. I’m not that guy anymore.”

  “People change,” I said with a smug smile. “You’re not my type anymore, Drew.”

  It felt good to say that, and it felt even better to watch his face as the sting of my words washed over him.

  “Gia,” he said. His persistence was remarkable.

  “What?” I asked. I was growing bored with him and was two seconds from releasing myself from his clutches and bolting the other way. My eyes scanned the room yet another time in search of Rowdy, only this time he was at the opposite end of the bar. Our eyes met and his lips curled into the sexiest smile I’d seen in ages.