Turbocharged

by Jessie Gussman

  He shook his head. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve got some high expectations for it and a deep desire to experiment, but I want to find all that out after I’m married.”

  His words pierced her heart, and she looked away.

  “No.” His hands gripped her shoulders and he turned her back around to him. She kept her head down, but he put his finger under her chin and lifted. “I’d rather be your last than your first.”

  “Oh, Nate. I’ve never even been faithful to one guy.”

  “Then you can experiment on me.”

  “Not funny.”

  “I’m sorry. Please don’t beat yourself up over something you can’t change. You can’t undo anything. All you can do is start out today and go a different way.” He ran both hands down over her hair. “Plus, you don’t know what I’ve done.”

  She lifted her hands, palms up. “Because you won’t tell me.”

  “I’m telling you tomorrow. Let me get through it first.”

  “I wish I could go tonight,” Kaitlyn said, looking over at Bobby running circles around the sliding board.

  “I’m glad you can’t.” Nate said, giving her shoulders a squeeze. He pulled out his cell phone to check the time. “Speaking of, we need to get moving.”

  21

  Nate left slightly before eight.

  Kaitlyn had no trouble seeing that he didn’t want to. His feet practically dragged as he walked out the door. Bobby tried to cling to his leg.

  Kaitlyn attempted to bribe Bobby with ice cream, which didn’t work.

  “We’ll go out on the four-wheeler tomorrow,” Nate said.

  Bobby grudgingly let go.

  She’d barely sat down to give Gary his nightly bottle and Bobby a snack of frozen blueberries, when there was a knock at the door. Her heart leaped before she chastened herself; if Nate had come back, he wouldn’t knock before he walked in.

  Bobby jumped up. He’d probably had the same idea that she did—that Nate was back. “I’ll get it,” he called, running for the door.

  Linda stood on the doorstep. “Can I come in?”

  “Of course. Of course. I’m sorry. I was surprised to see you.”

  “Yeah. Thought you would be.” Linda walked in, bringing the faint scent of someone who lived on a dairy farm in with her. Her old t-shirt and worn jeans were probably what she had worn to milk the cows.

  Kaitlyn felt bad that she couldn’t help her old friend. “Nate said you were doing everything yourself. Find any help yet?”

  “No. But…” Her somber expression cleared and she smiled at Kaitlyn. “I heard that your boyfriend has a fight tonight, and I wondered if you had a sitter to keep the boys so you could go watch.”

  “What?” Kaitlyn’s hand went limp.

  Gary immediately started fussing for his bottle, which had slipped out of his mouth. Kaitlyn adjusted it quickly. A fight? Nate, fighting?

  “I heard that…”

  Kaitlyn interrupted. “You said Nate had a fight?”

  “Well, yeah. Didn’t you know?” Linda bit her lip.

  “No.” Kaitlyn stood and paced in the small kitchen. “I knew he was going somewhere, but a fight? Like, with fists? Boxing?”

  “I don’t know. I just heard fight.”

  “Oh, wow.” Kaitlyn looked frantically around, still trying to process. Nate. Fighting. Like a professional fight? But he was an intellectual, a computer programmer. He didn’t know how to fight. Did he? “Oh, wow.” Her gaze shot back to Linda, and she stopped pacing. “You’ll watch the boys?”

  A panicked little voice screamed, “No.”

  She’d forgotten about Bobby. He’d been so still and quiet.

  “No! Don’t leave me!” His wail turned into a frantic cry, and he ran to Kaitlyn, grabbing her around the waist, sobbing.

  Kaitlyn’s heart broke for the little boy who’d only seen his parents once in the last month.

  Linda walked over and held her arms out for Gary.

  Kaitlyn handed him over.

  Linda jiggled him awkwardly. “I love babies but haven’t been around them much,” she said over Bobby’s wailing. She stared at Bobby in wary sympathy. It wasn’t hard to see that she didn’t have a clue how to handle the monster Bobby had become.

  “Don’t leave me! I’ll never see you again! I’m scared!” He drew out the word scared into a loud wail that careened around the small kitchen.

  Kaitlyn flinched.

  Linda stared at Bobby as if he was a two-headed snake and backed up a step. “If he were a cow, I could handle this.”

  Bobby’s arms squeezed Kaitlyn painfully as he wailed again. How could she leave him with Linda? It wasn’t fair to him, and it wasn’t fair to Linda either. Kaitlyn thought back to the trip home from Pittsburgh when he’d screamed for two solid hours. “You can go with me, Bobby.” She stroked his hair, trying to calm him. Thankfully, she’d not had time to change his clothes into his jammies. She looked down at her dress. Too fancy for a fight, wasn’t it? She had no idea, having never been to a fight of any kind, before. “You can go,” she repeated when his arms didn’t loosen from around her.

  “Really?” He hiccupped.

  “Really.” She looked down at her dress again then at the time on her cell. He had said ten, and it took two hours to get there. “We need to leave now.” Unhooking Bobby’s arms, she glanced at Linda. “Are you sure?”

  “Go.” Linda looked up from feeding Gary. “This might be the closest I ever come to having a baby of my own.”

  Kaitlyn didn’t think so but didn’t want to take the time to argue right now. “It’ll be really late when we get back.”

  “You can help me milk cows tomorrow morning.”

  “Done.” Kaitlyn had milked cows more than once with Linda growing up, and it was a small price to pay to see…Nate in a fight? She was afraid she’d be needed to pick up the pieces or take his unconscious body out of the…ring? Did he fight in a ring? It didn’t matter. She grabbed her purse and sprinted back to the kitchen to get Bobby, still unable to believe that Nate was fighting.

  “You’ll be OK?” Kaitlyn asked Linda as she headed past.

  “Yep.” Linda smiled.

  How did Linda know about Nate’s fight? Jealousy snarled in her chest. Her jaw clenched. She poked her head back in the door.

  “Linda? When did Nate tell you about the fight?”

  “He didn’t.” Linda looked up from feeding Gary. “Eve did.”

  “Oh.” Kaitlyn felt like a fool. “See ya.” She shut the door and hurried to her car.

  ~*~

  Was that a bowling ball lodged in his stomach? Sure felt like it. Nate wasn’t used to the feeling. Typically, before a fight, he was completely relaxed. He enjoyed the act of fighting, of strategy and violence, of offensive positions, defensive maneuvering, and messing with the other guy’s head with fakes and misdirection. Man, he loved it. However, for some reason, tonight, he wasn’t that into it, and inexplicably he was nervous.

  Dale, his unofficial agent, poked his head in the supply closet door that doubled as Nate’s changing room. “You’ve never fought this guy. He’s from Mexico, and his handler is the one where we had that circumstance out in Chicago.”

  “Ah.” Nate nodded. That was all the info he would get. It was enough. The guys who slipped across the border and fought for the drug cartels were always super tough, and the fights were the most brutal anywhere. They were also the nights when the money was the best.

  He knew what circumstance Dale was referring to—that night HSA had descended on the warehouse where they were fighting. Nate and Dale had actually lain on top of an old furnace all night. The dogs brought in had missed them completely, probably because the dogs were trained to sniff for drugs, not people. Still it had been uncomfortably close.

  “Ten minutes.” Dale was used to his lack of communication before fights and didn’t say anything else before pulling the door closed.

  The warehouse they were in reminded Nate more than a little of th
e one in Chicago. Should he scope out a good hiding place before he made it to the ring?

  He did some stretching exercises trying to focus his mind on the opponent. His stomach squeezed painfully, and he wished he had a better feeling about tonight. Dale had done too much for him to back out now. Plus, there was the money he’d earn, not just for fighting, but from the betting on the side. If he won, it should easily be enough to finish paying for the home in the woods that would be the start of his new life. The life where he would give up the violence and settled down with his wife, who now had a face—a beautiful, wild, shining face. Kaitlyn. What would she think of all this? It probably wouldn’t scare her. Maybe disgust her? Or maybe she’d love it.

  The dark hall that he walked down to get to the warehouse floor where the ring was set up echoed with emptiness. A huge contrast to the packed, wild floor. The fights weren’t regular, nor were they announced until shortly before they happened, but he’d still developed a following, and they screamed now as he came out into the dim, smoky light. Someone stood in the ring and announced him, but there was no sound system, and Nate only knew it was happening, not what was being said. Possibly the announcer talked about his record or his fighting style, but Nate didn’t know or care.

  Another man held a spotlight, and Nate went to the corner where it shone on the side of his face and not the front. He’d get turned around plenty in the ring, but no point in being blinded from the start.

  His opponent, Trinidad, already stood in the ring. Short, with wide shoulders, he reminded Nate of a bull.

  The yelling grew louder. Spanish, English, and languages that sounded Middle Eastern, although Nate couldn’t say for sure, rose in a crescendo of sound until the words were indistinguishable.

  Few rules: stay in the ring, which was much bigger than a regular boxing ring, and the first man down for more than ten seconds or the one that ran away, lost. That was it.

  A man holding a large cast-iron triangle stepped to the side of the ring. He spoke, but Nate couldn’t hear his words. He kept his eyes on the man’s hand. When it struck the triangle, the fight started. It didn’t matter what he said.

  Movement, or rather, a familiar color, moved behind the man in Nate’s line of vision and distracted him. Blue, like the color of Kaitlyn’s eyes. Like the color of the dress she had worn earlier today when he’d spoken about the seriousness of his affection and dropped the M word. That word had not made her turn tail and run, despite his fear that it might. His eyes flickered toward that blue. He could not keep them focused on the man beside the ring.

  If his stomach had been a bowling ball before, it was now a pin, knocked over with shock and happiness mixed with dismay. Kaitlyn’s blue dress came into focus in the small amount of light around the ring. Bobby’s orange shirt bobbed beside it. He fixated on their joined hands. Then his gaze locked with Kaitlyn’s. He hadn’t wanted Kaitlyn to see this, but he absolutely didn’t want Bobby to be a witness.

  A flash from the ring jerked his attention back. The triangle must have been hit, but he’d missed it. Trinidad, seeing he’d been distracted, had wasted no time and barreled into Nate, jerking his feet out from under him and planting him headfirst into the broken beer bottle.

  ~*~

  The electricity of the place flowed through Kaitlyn, igniting her nerve endings, and causing her body to hum. The energy practically lit the place up. It was no place for a little boy, although she actually saw a few pre-teens. Still, she gripped Bobby’s hand tighter, determined to make it to the ring. Surely, Nate was not actually fighting. He was a coach, or a water boy, or he took bets. Maybe he sold drugs? No. She dismissed that thought. No way.

  Pushing her way around another pair of hollering men, wobbling on her high heels, wishing she would have changed, Kaitlyn scanned the ring. Her gaze flew back to the man in the corner, his bulging muscles making his t-shirt look like a second skin. Broad shoulders veed out from a narrow waist. The man was wearing faded jeans and work boots. Nate. Whoa.

  A small thrill shot through her—he looked…wow, he looked nothing like the Nate she knew and loved. But he was in the ring with one other guy, which meant…Nate was actually fighting. She tried to grasp the concept. He was a fighter.

  Kaitlyn glanced at the other man. Shorter, but heavier, reminding her of a pit bull. All shoulders and muscles and bred to win. She focused back on Nate, fear narrowing her world down to just him. The pulsing energy, the danger vibes, the absolute lack of anything remotely civilized…fear clutched in her chest. Hard and sharp and painful.

  She tried to read his face. Was he the same person? The same man who fed her brother a bottle, changed diapers, visited her dad in the hospital, and taught her hyperactive sibling to make the best tuna salad sandwiches? Could it be? Because he certainly didn’t look the same. His face was closed off, his eyes hard and glinting, his whiskered jaw set tight and hard, his muscles bulged and he looked dangerous. A man even she wouldn’t mess with. A killer in a Hollywood movie. No, worse than the killer on a Hollywood movie. She couldn’t believe she’d left her brothers, her little, defenseless brothers, alone with this man.

  A man walked to the ring and stood between Nate and her, blocking her view. Kaitlyn, squeezing Bobby’s hand, moved, trying to find a position where she could see him again.

  Suddenly the jaw that had been chiseled and set, slackened. Their gazes met, and all the energy bundled in the room exploded between them. There should have been fire, an explosion, bodies flying. But rather, the world shrank to just the two of them, noise faded, and she and Nate were all that made up her universe.

  He canted toward her ever so slightly. He’d recognized her. His eyes flicked to Bobby, and she easily read the dismay on his face. He met her eyes again, and she felt the connection across the space that separated him. Felt his consternation and concern, his caring and his…love.

  Movement severed their connection just before the pit bull man launched into Nate.

  Kaitlyn jerked at the impact.

  Nate dropped like a rock. But, somehow, he twisted his body, bringing it around and taking the pit bull man down with him, arms and legs swinging. The pit bull jammed his knee into Nate’s stomach. Nate brought his forehead down, ramming it into his opponent’s nose. Blood squirted everywhere. Shouts rose all around her and men strained toward the ring.

  Kaitlyn pulled Bobby’s hand until he squeezed in front of her, facing her to shield him from the violence, but her own eyes never left the ring. The men had gained their feet again, and she was getting the impression that there were no rules. A gash along Nate’s cheek bled copiously. Pit Bull’s nose dripped blood onto his t-shirt. The floor was splattered with bright red spots and looked slippery.

  Pit Bull swung in a circle, lifting his leg and side planting it into Nate’s stomach. Nate jumped back, but not enough, and he grunted as the boot caught his ribs with a crack. Grabbing pit bull’s foot, Nate ripped it up, causing Pit Bull to lose his footing. His body crashed down to the cement; his head hit it with a loud smack.

  The brutality shocked her, and she wanted to close her eyes, but she couldn’t stand the suspense of not knowing what was happening.

  Nate aimed a kick at the prone man’s stomach, but the guy rolled and shot to his feet. They circled and traded punches. More blood flowed. The crowd shouted advice and hurled insults, although Kaitlyn couldn’t tell who was rooting for whom.

  Pit Bull charged, ramming his shoulder into Nate’s stomach and trying to lift him from the ground. Nate’s elbow caught him hard in the side of the head. Pit Bull’s arms dropped, and he wobbled backward. Nate landed several crushing blows to the man’s face as he dropped onto the floor to the roar of the crowd. Nate wobbled.

  Kaitlyn hoped desperately that Pit Bull stayed down.

  Red and blue flashing lights lit up the interior of the building. A voice from a megaphone said, “Don’t move.” If the voice had more to say, Kaitlyn never heard. In direct opposition to the order, the crowd roared and surged
in all different directions.

  Kaitlyn held tight to Bobby, her heart leaping and jumping in her chest, her legs shaking. What should she do? Her Jeep was parked six blocks away; it was probably safe, but she was disoriented in the flashing darkness with the mob swirling around. And she couldn’t leave Nate.

  A shape loomed up in front of her.

  “Nate!” Bobby yelled. And for the first time all night, he pulled away from Kaitlyn.

  “Nate.”

  The flashing lights offered her a glimpse of his swollen and bloody face.

  “Oh, my word. Nate.” She stepped forward to hug him.

  His arm came around her shoulders. “I’m a mess.” Bending down, he scooped Bobby up, carrying him upright against his side. “Come on. I have a place where I think we’ll be good.” His hand dropped to grab hers, and he pulled her quickly out of the large, open floor.

  Men still ran crazily around.

  A spotlight flashed by them, and Nate yanked her down so the beam swung over their heads before hurrying on.

  Her skirt swished unfamiliarly around her knees, and she wobbled in her high heels as she followed Nate through the thronging crowd. He led her through a door into a close, dark room and seemed to follow the wall around, finding another door. “Steps going down.” Nate whispered back as his big body shifted down. “Watch it.” He slowed down, as though he could feel her unsteady stride. Another door at the bottom led into a small, enclosed area.

  They stepped behind a large structure—an oil tank? Kaitlyn couldn’t tell in the darkness. Nate stopped and turned, leaning against the wall. His arm went around her, pulling her close between his spread legs. Bobby shifted against their sides.

  “It’s dark in here,” Bobby whispered. “Why are we just standing here?”

  This was just great. Exactly the lesson Kaitlyn did not want Bobby to learn—this was how one hid from the cops. Now that her shock had worn off, anger seemed to want to take its place. But, why? Why would she be angry at Nate for being a—what kind of fighter was he?