by Amity Cross
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
I smashed my fist into his face, and the rage was gone. This was what calmed the beast? Inflicting pain? Was he right all along? I paused mid-punch and blinked hard.
Steel spat blood on the floor, his eyes rolling back.
“Get him the fuck off him!” I heard someone yelling in the background, but I was already stumbling to my feet as arms hooked around me, hauling me across the cage.
Shaking them off, I fisted my hands into my hair, my heart beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst from my chest. The crowd surged against the cage, the chain link rattling, and the door opened.
Turning, I stared straight into the eyes of my greatest love, and all I saw was horror. Horror at the thing I’d let myself become.
Spitfire.
A tear trailed down her cheek, and the world dropped away until it was only me, her and bitter disappointment.
Once a beast, always a beast.
Eighteen
Ren
I thought I knew all about heartbreak.
Turned out I didn’t know a fucking thing until I saw Ash standing in the middle of that cage, the beast inside of him in full control.
Not an hour before, I picked myself up off the floor of our apartment and went to the one place I knew he would’ve gone. The one place he could sate his anger—the anger I awoke in him—without mercy. I drove to The Underground to stop him from imploding, but it was already too late.
He stood in the center of the cage, covered in sweat, blood and tears, and my heart broke. It shattered, cracked, disintegrated and went up in flames.
He was better than that, he was stronger…but it had been my actions that pushed him over the edge. I’d dismissed marriage as a joke, pushed him to bare his secrets, pressuring him relentlessly to talk… I allowed Caleb to get close to me the moment Ash was most vulnerable, and for that, I couldn’t apologize enough. I was as much at fault in this as he was. We’d both pushed as hard as we could, and we’d both broke under the pressure.
My gaze dropped from Ash’s to the fighter on the ground. He was moaning, trying to move his arms and get up, but his limbs flopped uselessly. Fuck. I was jostled as some men with a spinal board rushed past, and the crowd surged, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening. Security was trying to keep things under control, but the situation was fast getting out of hand.
Shoving forward, I reached desperately for Ash’s hand. I had to get him out of here.
He stared at me, dazed and confused, his expression betraying how totally adrift he was. I was pushed from behind, and I smashed into his chest, my hand curling around his. Instantly, he awoke from his trance and wrapped his arm around my back. Using his body to protect me from the crowd, he shoved his way through the throng like a colossus smashing through a solid wall of rock.
He was broken and raw, a hot mess of emotion, lost in an ocean of his own despair.
He’d always filled my life to the brim with love and laughter, but in this moment, he consumed everything. Ash Fuller burned brightly without end.
We broke through the crowd and were let through to the fighter-only area by security. The door boomed closed behind us, and we were alone in the hallway, but it wasn’t alone enough for Ash, who dragged me along with him as he pushed through another door.
We were in a storeroom of some kind, and the irony wasn’t lost on me one iota. Making sure the door was closed, I pressed my back against it and cast my gaze over Ash.
He began to pace, fisting his hands into his hair. The wraps over his knuckles were torn and bloodied, and a cut on his face was bleeding down his forehead and across his cheek. He glistened with anguish, blood and sweat, his entire body coiled tight.
“He was right, he was right, he was right,” he wailed, fisting his hands into his hair again. “What have I done?”
He grabbed hold of the closest thing he could find, which was a box, and hurled it across the room. It smashed into the wall, exploding with a crack, and glass tinkled to the floor.
“Ash!” I cried out, launching myself at him, right into the path of the beast once more.
“I killed him.” His eyes were full of tears as he drowned in his despair.
“No,” I murmured, holding his bloodstained face in my hands. I wasn’t sure if it was just his blood that coated his face or the other guy’s as well, but I looked past it and into his eyes. “They’re taking him to hospital. He’ll be okay.”
I didn’t know if they’d get the fighter there in time, or how seriously he was hurt, or even if he would make it once everything was said and done, but right now, I had to get Ash back from the edge. If he fell any further than he had… I was terrified he’d never come back at all.
“Ren,” he said through a heavy sigh. “You hate me. You hate me.”
“I don’t hate you,” I replied, shaking my head. “I could never hate you.” He closed his eyes, screwing up his face, and his body tensed against mine. “I love you, Ash. I could never let you go.”
He shook his head furiously, dislodging my grip on him.
“Maverick.” I wound my arms around his neck, my lips an inch from his. I wasn’t afraid of Ash Fuller and all the things he was capable of. I never was. The only thing that scared me was the darkness that would drown me when he was gone. I’d help him. We’d help one another. Together we were stronger.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
“I know.” Placing my hand on his chest, I rubbed up and down, settling on the part of his tattoo that read heart. “Remember this.” I moved again, this time feeling his pounding heart against my skin as I came to rest on the word rebirth. “And never, ever forget this.”
With a moan, he pressed his lips against mine, the tension bleeding from his limbs and into my body. I carried his pain, and I tightened my grip on him, begging for more.
Let me help you, I pleaded silently. Let me bring you back.
My back hit the wall, and he pressed into me, his tongue licking deep against mine. His hands shoved down the front of my shorts, and his fingers found my clit and began stroking. Bucking into his touch, I gasped as my body flared in response. It would always be Ash. Always.
“Spitfire,” he moaned, grinding his erection against my thigh as he worked his fingers deeper until they were inside me.
“Do you need it?” I asked, my hands cupping his face.
He nodded once and pulled his fingers away. Undoing the button on my shorts, he pushed them down and practically tore off my knickers. As I stepped out of them, he discarded his own and stood before me, hard and ready. His eyes were dark with rage and lust, his body covered with sweat and blood from his fight. It should’ve disturbed me, but all I could see was the man underneath it all. I knew this was what he was afraid of. This was the fear he’d tried to hide from me. I didn’t know what had stirred it up, but this was his fear. Rage.
Lifting me up into his arms, he held me against the wall and thrust. His cock slammed into me, and I cried out at the too-full sensation, but Ash didn’t slow. He pulled back and thrust again and again, fucking me hard against the wall. He was chasing the beast, dousing the fire…using his connection with me to bring himself back from the edge.
Our cries mingled together as our bodies joined again and again. His mouth found mine, his tongue twisted and devoured as my orgasm peaked and smashed through my body.
I tightened around his cock, lost in the intensity that was overloading my senses, and then I felt him pulse and erupt. He moaned deep and long into my mouth, circling his hips and driving himself deeper as he spilled everything he had into me. Like a catharsis for his pain, I took it all. I wanted to. I wanted to.
It felt like an age had passed as we held together, him inside me, my legs around his waist, my back against the wall… Our chests heaved in tandem,
our breath lost in the wake of our desperate fucking.
Finally, I was able to collect my thoughts. “Ash?”
He let me slide through his arms, and my feet hit the floor.
“Please tell me,” I pleaded, my voice barely a whisper. I felt so empty. The wall was still between us even though his eyes were brighter and his rage had subsided.
He still didn’t reply. All he did was squeeze his eyes closed.
Without a word, I extracted myself from his grasp. I pulled my shorts on and went to find his things in the change rooms. When I got back, he’d put his shorts back on and sat there glassy-eyed as I unwrapped his hands before pulling his T-shirt over his head and tugging his jacket around his bulky frame.
Then, when The Underground had calmed down enough, I led him from the warehouse and took him home to Pulse.
We never uttered a word the entire way there, silence opening a bottomless chasm between us. I had no idea if we could ever come back from all the hurt we’d inflicted on one another. Not this time.
He followed me into the apartment, still silent, and collapsed onto the bed. Instantly, he was asleep. It was the first time I’d seen him so utterly exhausted, and I now knew that there was an end to his energy.
With a sigh, I pulled off his shoes and dragged a blanket over his sleeping body.
For good measure, I went into the kitchen and filled a glass with water. Taking a packet of ibuprofen from the drawer in the counter, I placed them on the bedside table. I gave him one last look, but he was dead to the world, oblivious that I was even here. He’d terrified me in the moment his gaze had met mine in the cage. I’d seen him break before, but not like that…not because of me.
I brushed my fingers over his cheek, and it felt like goodbye. I willed time to go back, but it was impossible—there was only forward.
I took a deep breath.
Then I left.
Nineteen
Ash
Knocking at the front door woke me.
Light streamed into the apartment, and I rolled over, my head throbbing. My gaze found a glass of water and tablets on the bedside table, and automatically, I reached for them.
Ren.
Groaning, I sat up and downed a couple of pills, washing them and my bruised soul down. What time was it? It must be late.
The knocking began again, and I climbed out of bed, my toes burying into the carpet. Shuffling out of the bedroom and down the hall, I realized she wasn’t here, and I didn’t know what to make of that. This time, I didn’t blame her for not wanting to be within the same four walls as the beast.
Hesitating by the side table, I slid open the drawer, but I already knew the ring was gone. Knowing it didn’t soften the blow when I was greeted with the empty space.
The knocking started again, and this time, it was more persistent. Slamming the drawer closed, I wrenched open the front door with a scowl.
“Shit, man,” Ryan exclaimed, giving me the once over.
“What?” I grumbled.
His brow furrowed. “You’re covered in blood.”
Glancing down at my chest, I raised my eyebrows. So I was.
While I was dazed for a split second, Ryan took the opportunity to step into the apartment. “What the fuck happened in here?”
“I got angry,” I retorted. I was meant to be an example for him and Cole, but here I was being a fuckin’ child and beating men into hospital. I was a real pillar of society.
“You’re late, you know.”
I grunted, not knowing how to answer that. I was never late, and considering I lived upstairs, it was a hard thing to accomplish. If Ash Fuller was late, then something had to be wrong.
“You could’ve said something,” Ryan said, not even easing into the hard questions. No pussyfooting around, just head first into the problem at hand.
“I don’t have anyone here,” I said, bending to retrieve the broken pieces of photo frame.
“Dude,” Ryan said firmly. “You might be my coach, but you can say shit to me. I hope I can say shit to you.”
“I’m meant to be a leader, not a fuckin’ mess.”
“Remember what you said to me the day you came to see me fight out East?” he asked, leaning against the wall.
Dropping the broken frame, I grunted and rubbed my eyes. I really needed a shower. I stunk.
“It’s been six months since I came to Pulse,” he went on. “Cole and I were both on a road to nowhere. We had a foot in the right corner, but nobody was there to help keep it there. Not until you showed up on some crazy recruitment drive.”
“What’s your point?” I asked, my head still throbbing like a motherfucker.
“You said that we had to know our limits. That we had to know when to cut loose and when to fight. Most importantly, how to control it.”
I straightened up. Ryan knew. He had to.
“I know a guy,” he said with a shrug, confirming everything. “Just me.”
I ran my hand over my face. “Fuck.”
“You lost your way for a sec,” Ryan said with a shrug. “You’re human, not God.”
He didn’t seem put off in the slightest that I went out last night and almost beat a man to death. That was messed up.
Since we were laying everything on the line, I joined the party. “I really fucked up. With Ren. With Steel. With you guys.”
Ryan pushed off from the wall and said, “You helped me fix my mistakes before I even made them.” He gave me the once over and wrinkled his nose. “Have a shower, Coach. You stink like shit.”
How a twenty-one-year-old kid was wiser than me, I’d never fuckin’ know.
Turning, he opened the front door. “I’ll tell the guys you’re up here chucking your guts up,” he threw back over his shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”
Pressing my fist against my heart, I vaguely remembered Ren saying something last night about not forgetting. Not forgetting what?
Glancing down at my chest, I read the word I’d had tattooed right over my ticker and grimaced. Rebirth.
I had to be a man and fix this. I had to fix everything.
Twenty
Ash
Standing outside of St Vincent’s Hospital, I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket, my bank account feeling significantly lighter.
It took some convincing, but when I went back to The Underground to get my car, I wormed my way in and cleared out Steel’s locker. Going through his wallet, I found his ID, learned his real name and called every hospital in the city looking for him.
Josh “Steel” Caplin had been admitted to St Vincent’s Hospital as a John Doe after he was dumped on the footpath out the front of the emergency department. That was the kindness of the people I used to call friends, but what did I expect from a highly illegal fighting operation? We all knew the rules. Josh Caplin knew the rules, but I’d taken it way too far.
I’d just paid for all of his medical expenses and had left my details on file with a pretty redheaded nurse for when the next round came in. He’d made it through, but there was still a long way to go. Destruction only took a split second, but rebuilding took an age.
Now I stood out on the footpath, the emergency department at my back, with the biggest battle yet to come.
She could be at one of two places, and I hoped it was the one I was thinking of. After what she’d done for me last night… I hoped I’d find her there.
I got into my car and drove through the streets of Melbourne, along Nicholson Street through Carlton, crawling with the early evening traffic. I got stuck behind a tram packed with commuters, waiting until they got off at the stop at a set of traffic lights. I fretted until the red switched to green before passing, trying to think of all the things I needed to explain to Ren. I drove and drove until I reached Brunswick Road, my hands tight around the steering wheel.
Her car was parked on the street in front of the little cottage, a light from within illuminating the frosted glass set into the door. She was here.
Pulling into a free spot down the street, I locked my car and made my way up the front path. Standing on the porch, I knocked on the front door of Josie’s house and waited.
There were footsteps inside, and my heart sped up. Boom, boom, boom echoing in my ears so loud it was the only thing I could hear other than her approach.
Then the door opened, and she was there.
Bright, shining, beautiful and fierce like electric sparks in my heart.
My Spitfire.
“Ash?” She blinked hard, her eyes looking dark and heavy like she’d been crying and crying without end.
“You look surprised,” I said, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket, feeling pretty rotten that this was all because of me.
Standing back, she opened the door wide and waited for me to step inside.
I hesitated. “Ren, I—”
“Come in,” she interrupted. “Please.”
I hadn’t been to Josie’s house before. I mean, I’d dropped Ren off a couple of times, but I’d never seen the inside. It was really nice. All hardwood floors and modern fittings, which was a stark contrast to the heritage facade.
Ren led me into the lounge room.
I sat on the edge of the couch and stiffened when she positioned herself right next to me, her leg squashed against mine. I blinked hard, trying to gather my thoughts. She always did this to me—her presence, her touch. She was everything and everywhere. I needed to keep my head if I had any hope of explaining my screwed up thought process to her.
“I missed you this morning,” I said when it was clear she was waiting for me to start.
“I did what I could,” she said after a moment. “I brought you back and took you home. Pushing you further…” She sighed. “You had to come here on your own. Making you would’ve been wrong.”
