by Tasha Black
“Wait,” Conan said, tapping her shoulder.
It was as if the entire universe heard his plea, and listened.
The breeze stopped blowing, the sounds of the morning disappeared, individual motes of rust colored dust hung suspended in the air.
“Let’s look,” Conan suggested.
Brooke stepped forward into the courtyard, amazed.
She turned back and she saw herself, still frozen in the entryway.
“It’s okay,” Conan told her. “It’s only a dream.”
She shook her head and focused on the courtyard instead.
They walked the perimeter, tracing narrowing circles in the dust until they reached the center again. But there was nothing at all.
Brooke began peering into the windows of the stucco buildings along the square and Conan followed.
Nothing unusual was happening in any of them that she could see - just normal people going about their everyday business. Not one was monitoring the courtyard.
It made no sense.
Brooke felt the air begin to move again, slowly. The dust began to respond to gravity once more.
She turned to Conan.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t hold it still any longer.”
They both turned back to the soldiers at the threshold of the courtyard. The dream-Brooke beckoned to the others in slow motion. The soldiers all moved as if underwater, their footsteps kicking up more red dust in slowly expanding clouds as they entered.
“What’s that?” Conan asked, pointing.
Brooke followed his gaze.
Something floated over the adobe wall and drifted to the ground. It looked like a large soda bottle with a straw sticking out of the top.
No. Not a straw.
A fuse.
“My god,” Brooke breathed as she watched the thing fly apart.
Someone had lobbed it over the far side of the wall. There was no way she could have seen it in advance. The only reason she saw it now was that she was observing the scene from another angle.
“Don’t look,” Conan said, dragging her to his side just as the world sped up to its normal tempo and screams filled the air.
Brooke wailed in agony too.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Conan told her gently. “You saw what I saw. There’s no way you could have known.”
“That’s my patrol,” she told him. “That’s my family.”
He must have understood because he held her tighter, as if he were trying to absorb some of her pain into himself.
For the first time, Brooke mourned the loss of her friends without the veil of guilt that had hung over her since that actual moment.
The starkness of her loss was devastating without the filter of self-loathing. But it also felt right to grieve that way.
Her feelings were about them now, the people who had served with her, and the love she felt for them. The pain was no longer about her.
But the whole scene was growing dimmer now. The only thing that still felt real was Conan.
“Time to go,” he murmured into her hair.
Then everything faded to black.
She let herself drift away.
Brooke awoke the next morning feeling rested. She opened her eyes and it took a moment to put everything together.
She was in the room upstairs.
The warmth at her back was Conan.
The pain in her heart was because of what had happened in Afghanistan.
But the peace was because of what Conan had shown her.
She slid out of his arms, enjoying his throaty growl, even in sleep it seemed he wanted to hold her close.
She was surprised to find her inner self agreeing that he had the right idea.
She thought about it while she went down to her own suite to shower, and while she dressed.
She thought about it as she climbed back upstairs and stood on the knotted rug before the cold fireplace, looking down at her enormous mate still sleeping on the bed.
Lost in her thoughts, she hit the floor and began her old exercise routine, the one that used to define every morning of her existence, starting with sit-ups.
Her muscles burned, but every movement felt good, brought her back to herself. The two halves of Brooke once again aligned. The woman and the soldier were at peace.
It wasn’t until she heard Conan’s whistle of admiration that she noticed she was on her third round of one-handed push-ups on her bad shoulder.
22
Brooke
Brooke stood in the ring, her body trembling, but her will as strong as tempered steel.
Jade St. Vincent stood before her.
The ref was telling them the rules, but the sound of his words faded away and there was nothing in the world but the rhythm of her blood pounding through her veins and the emerald flash of Jade’s eyes.
They touched gloves, the crowd cheered, and then it was on.
Careful, her inner voice warned.
But Brooke was in no mood to be careful and Jade St. Vincent was not a cautious opponent.
Jade closed the distance and they traded blows in a quick exchange. Brooke got in a few good shots, but took a few more. She’d never fought anyone who moved like that. She’d trained hard, but no amount of practice could have fully prepared her.
Pain blossomed in her ribs from a solid left hook, but adrenaline streamed through her body, invigorating her.
Brooke threw her best spinning back kick, hoping to catch Jade off guard with the unorthodox maneuver.
Jade blocked it easily. A smile tugged up the corners of her mouth rendering her tough expression momentarily playful and Brooke had a moment of realization.
She’s enjoying this.
Though she would have preferred to see fear in her opponent’s eyes, she was glad she was providing a better challenge than Ellen Gray.
Encouraged, Brooke redoubled her efforts.
They exchanged blows for some time, but Brooke knew it was the ground game where Jade excelled. Sooner or later the fight would end up there, and Jade would really be in her element.
The best thing for Brooke to do was stay on her feet as long as possible.
She continued on doggedly, refusing to take the bait when Jade presented a few false openings to lure her into a takedown.
But near the end of the round, she saw an opening that was too good to pass up. Convinced she could do some damage and dance back out again, Brooke went for it.
She watched as her combo struck Jade and heard her little cheering section go wild.
“She landed every shot,” Keisha was yelling, probably ruining her own video.
Don’t get distracted.
But it was too late, Jade was already on her. She had been feeling out Brooke long enough to know she could take that combo in order to score the takedown.
Brooke felt her balance start to go as Jade hooked her arm and moved in for the throw.
Brooke had always enjoyed her judo training in the service because it made her think of her childhood. She and her cousins used to wrestle every weekend when the family got together. It got to the point where her aunt made them go into the yard because she didn’t want her finished basement messed up.
Of course in her training later Brooke had learned proper technique, but back then she’d been obsessed with MMA and coming up with her own stuff.
She’d made up a magical move back then. It was really just a variation on a D’arce choke from a counter to a judo throw, but her cousins all called it the Babbling Brooke. They called it that because it allowed her to flow out of danger and drown out the other guy in an epic choke. Of course her uncle claimed it was called the Babbling Brooke because she wouldn’t stop talking about it.
As Jade committed herself to the throw, Brooke realized she was almost in the right position to try the move. If she put her shoulder into it with a brutal twist, it just might work.
Jade was really, really good. She seemed able to anticipate Brooke’s every move.<
br />
But no one would anticipate a technique that didn’t really exist.
In the fraction of a second before her feet left the ground, Brooke committed to her signature move.
And she hoped to god that Keisha was filming because whether or not it worked, she knew her cousins would have to see this.
She turned her hips as she wrenched back on her shoulder, bracing herself for poker hot pain, but it never came.
Jade let out a surprised grunt as they hit the ground. Brooke was on the bottom, but she had already begun to secure the choke. She felt Jade’s pulse against her arms and heard the roar of the crowd.
“Holy crap,” Keisha yelped.
Jade was struggling hard. But Brooke had her arms locked in tight. She wasn’t going anywhere.
Just as Brooke started to think she had a shot at actually taking Jade out, the bell rang to signify the end of the round.
23
Brooke
Back in the ring after a drink of water and the encouragement of Hal, who was in her corner, Brooke was ready to do business.
The second round began much like the first. She and Jade went after each other with abandon.
She noticed that Jade was still enjoying herself but focused enough now to denote respect.
Brooke appreciated the respect but realized that she had probably had a better shot at winning before Jade began to take her seriously.
There was no way to surprise her now.
The worst of it was that her team was screaming in a way that made her think they were convinced now that she was about to win.
Focus, do your best and never quit.
Well, at least her inner teacher hadn’t fallen prey to emotion.
Brooke toughened up and got to work.
By the second half of the round she was exhausted but proud of herself for somehow still being in it. Jade had landed more than Brooke by a lot, but somehow Brooke had dodged being knocked out or tapped out.
They were close to the bell again when Jade finally took Brooke down and went for her signature arm bar.
Brooke felt the joints in her arms strain and fought the panic that threatened to overcome her.
Every move had a counter. She needed to stay calm and use her head.
Sweat beading on her upper lip, Brooke pushed herself past the pain and reached out with her foot, finding the bottom rope of the ring and using it for the leverage she needed to flip her body over and escape the arm bar.
There were some sounds of admiration from the crowd, but Brooke knew she’d have been finished for sure if Jade had gotten her in that position in the center of the ring.
Brooke fought on. She was exhausted from her escape, and her hopes of actually winning had all but washed away, but she was determined to leave it all on the mat.
If Jade St. Vincent wanted a victory, she was going to have to take it.
The bell sounded to end the second round and both fighters moved to their respective corners.
Two down. One to go.
She’d already lasted longer than Jade’s last four opponents, combined. That was something to be proud of. But somehow, it didn’t make Brooke feel much better in the moment.
24
Brooke
The third and final round began badly.
Jade landed a hard right hand in the opening exchange.
By the time Brooke stopped seeing stars, she was on the ground.
Her whole body ached. She fought for leverage but they were both so slick with sweat she could find no purchase.
Somehow, she managed to slip free and scramble to her feet.
Again and again Jade came at her and nearly took her out.
Again and again Brooke fought her back just enough to avoid catastrophe. She was fighting on pure instinct, just trying her best to survive.
At last the bell rang, sounding like a symphony to Brooke’s ears.
They joined the ref at the center of the ring.
He took both of their hands and lifted Jade’s, declaring her the winner by unanimous decision.
Jade’s large fan club out in the stands went wild. As well they should, Jade had put on a clinic. There was no contest, and Brooke was beginning to wonder how she’d ever thought there would be. Time off or not, this was Jade’s sport and she was the best there was.
Which meant that Brooke’s gym was toast and there were going to be a lot of disappointed people out there.
She slipped off to the changing room, showered and got dressed while Jade was out talking to her fans.
When she was ready, she took a deep breath and went back out into the marble lobby.
Her little crew was there waiting for her.
Hal was the first to spot her. He pointed and all of them turned and began to wave and cheer.
“Why are you cheering?” she asked. “I totally let you down.”
“What are you talking about?” Keisha demanded. “That was awesome. You just went the distance with Jade St. Vincent.”
“You did your best, Sarge,” Hal said. “You did everything you tell us to do.”
Brooke felt tears prickle her eyes.
Conan was leaning against the wall, his brothers beside him. Together they looked like an ad for men’s scented deodorant.
He moved toward her, but Brooke was distracted by a yell from behind her.
“Brooke,” someone called in a throaty voice.
She turned to see Jade St. Vincent jogging up to her, a couple of fans trailing behind.
“Hi,” Brooke said, feeling suddenly nervous, as if she hadn’t just spent three rounds practically in this woman’s arms.
“Holy shit,” Jade said, her eyes dancing. “What was that?”
“The move at the end of the first round?” Brooke asked.
“Um, yeah, that move,” Jade acknowledged.
“Oh, it’s just something I worked out myself,” Brooke said.
“You made that up? That’s fucking fantastic, I loved it,” Jade enthused.
“Thanks, I could show it to you sometime,” Brooke offered.
“What? No, no show it to me now,” Jade said. “Come on.”
Brooke grinned at Jade. For all her trash talk and scary tampon commercials, this woman might just as well be one of her cousins.
“Yeah, sure,” Brooke agreed.
They headed down the hallway arm in arm, both sets of hangers on trailing behind them.
“Hey I heard you run a gym,” Jade said.
“Yeah, not for long though,” Brooke said.
“No shit? You’re going to train full time?” Jade asked. “You’re good, you know, you might have a shot. A lot of people just saw you give me a hell of a fight. We could set up a rematch. Cut some trash-talking promos. That shit sells a ton of tickets.”
“No, no,” Brooke said, laughing. “I’m not going to be a professional fighter. My landlord is selling the building.”
“So buy it,” Jade suggested.
Brooke didn’t reply. No point mentioning that she had no money.
“Oh shit,” Jade said. “You were going to buy it if you won, weren’t you? I totally fucked up your movie of the week ending.”
Brooke shrugged. “My uncle always said things happen for a reason.”
Jade stopped in her tracks.
“Your uncle is right,” she said as if Brooke’s uncle had just located Amelia Earhart’s missing airplane.
Brooke waited.
“My accountant says I need investments,” Jade said. “What if I buy into your business?”
“Oh,” Brooke said. “I don’t know. It’s not a big money maker. I’m in it because I love to teach. Veterans train for free with me and that’s not going to change ever.”
“That’s all good with me,” Jade said. “I need to work on my karma almost as much as I need to work on my taxable income. I’ll tell you what, we’ll talk about the business part next week, but for now I’ll just give you a check to buy the building in cash so no one else nabs it
out from under us while we discuss. If we work something out, great. If we can’t work it out, then I’ll just hold a mortgage for you. I’ll still have an investment even if it’s not as cool, and you’ll still have your gym. Sound good?”
“That sounds… great,” Brooke said. “All of it….I- I don’t know how to thank you…”
“Bullshit,” Jade said, giving her a little shove. “You earned it. You’re going to show me the patented move that almost took out Jade St. Vincent.”
Brooke looked over her shoulder to see if the gang had heard.
They had.
Hal gave her a big thumbs-up.
Keisha mouthed “oh my god” as she held her phone in front of her, still recording.
But it was Conan and the expression of love and pride in his eyes that sent Brooke over the top.
Getting a lucky break was one thing. But having someone to share it with…
Well, Brooke Singleton figured she was probably the happiest woman in the world.
25
Conan
Conan was new to the planet, new to his body and to the emotions it wrenched from him.
But tonight it was all coming together.
He and his brothers and the women were walking home together.
The cool, humid air felt just right in his lungs. Brooke’s smile triggered sensations that excited him while causing zero confusion.
And the camaraderie of the group gave him the most pleasant brotherly feeling. A sense of rightness descended upon him, making him believe that the tide of good will tonight was so great that nothing bad could possibly stem from it.
Brooke grabbed his hand, the gentle contact sparking a hum through his veins.
She seemed to want to hang back a bit, and he acquiesced, allowing the others to get ahead.
“You were wonderful tonight,” he told her.
“Thanks,” she grinned. “I still can’t believe everything that happened.”
“I believe it all,” Conan replied.
She stopped and looked at him, her eyes luminous under the street lamp.
