Revived

by Tia Lewis

  "Good morning," I answered, giving him a small smile. "Can I have a cup of that?"

  He nodded and pulled a mug down from the cabinet, pouring me a cup. "I don't have any of those fancy creamers."

  I took the mug gratefully, the steaming liquid blowing on my face. "I don't need it. I've always been a black coffee girl myself."

  He didn't smile, and I sighed inwardly. "Thanks for letting me sleep in the bed last night. I slept like a baby." I was lying of course, but he didn't know that.

  "I'm glad," he answered, draining his mug before setting it in the sink. "Drink up. We have to go."

  I took a few sips to settle my nervous stomach before placing my mug next to his, wondering how I was going to work this out today. I needed to go to the apartment, and by now anyone else would have turned me loose, made me find my own way, but Travis seemed to still be holding on. I was grateful of course, glad that I didn't have to be wandering the streets when someone wanted to kill me. It was like a bad hitman movie, wondering if someone was going to slam a bullet into me at any time.

  Picking up my coat from the chair, I shrugged it on, zipping it up. "I'm ready."

  Travis shrugged on a coat as well, and I realized he was not in his customary hoodie today, but rather a long sleeved tee that stretched tightly over his chest. I had been right. The man was ripped. His jeans were well worn, but not torn like the fad was these days, his coat a wool blend that definitely hadn't come from some discount store. He looked almost normal. Reaching into his coat, he produced a pair of gloves, shoving them toward me. "Here. You're going to freeze your ass off out there."

  I reached out and took them, our fingers brushing slightly in the process. "Thanks. I'm not used to this kind of weather. It's never below sixty in Cali."

  He didn't answer me, and pulled open the door instead, where I got my first glimpse of the Chicago winter. It wasn't as exciting as I had hoped. "Come on," he said, holding the door open. "It's gonna be a cold walk to the gym."

  Chapter Seven

  Travis

  There was something different about Julia. I couldn't put my finger on it, but she seemed more nervous, her eyes glancing back at me every once and a while as we walked to the gym. I had slept horribly on the couch, my nightmares getting the best of me. Nicole had been there, in my dreams, but not the warm fuzzy dreams that everyone liked to have. These were dark and disturbing, with blood and her begging for me to save her and our baby. No matter how hard I tried, I could never get to her fast enough.

  "So," Julia said, her breath coming out in puffs of frozen air. "Are all winters like this?"

  "No," I said, remembering she had told me she was from California. What the hell was a girl like that doing in a city like this? I could give her the money to get back home, far away from whatever trouble she had found here in Chicago, and ultimately forget that she even existed. It was the logical thing to do. "It's usually worse."

  She laughed, and I ignored the flare of heat that traveled to parts that hadn't been active in three years. Well, not with anyone else at least. "I can't imagine it getting worse," she said, sticking out her tongue to capture some of the flying snow in her mouth. I stopped in my tracks, watching the innocent gesture, my heart pounding against my chest. Nicole loved winters in the city. She would make me walk for miles around in the snow, her eyes sparkling like a little kid's as she did exactly the same thing that Julia was doing right now. I used to grumble and complain, kick at the snow and ask her when she was going to warm up my balls or some stupid shit like that, but she would just stand there, her eyes closed and her mouth opened like it was the best thing in the world. Now I wished I would have enjoyed those moments with her.

  The pain blinding, I pulled at Julia's arm to move her forward. "Come on," I growled, forcing the pain back into its hole. "I'm fucking freezing."

  She didn't make a sound as I trudged us directly to the gym, opening the door, the blast of sweat and heat a welcome distraction. "Oh wow," she breathed as we walked in, the warmth enveloping us. "This isn't any ordinary gym, is it?"

  I looked at the three massive cages that were erected in the back, with all the weight equipment and kicking bags in various places on the gym floor. No, it wasn't a normal gym, but it was the closest to a home I had in quite a while.

  "Trav. Dude, glad you finally made it. Isn't it a mess out there?"

  I looked over to see Benji bearing down on us, that stupid grin on his face as he looked at Julia. That's all I needed, someone thinking there was more to this story than what it really was. I should just give her the money she needed and move her on out of my life. I didn't need this distraction. I didn't need her; I didn't need anyone.

  "Hi," Julia said, sticking out a gloved hand, grinning as she removed it before shaking Benji's hand. "I'm Julia."

  "And I'm blown away," he answered as he gripped her hand in his. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Benji was such a damn flirt. Julia's cheeks pinkened, her eyes sparkling and I felt the first stir of jealousy in my gut. She had never looked at me like that before, not even once. We spent more time avoiding each other than we did actually having a conversation. Hell. Why did I care?

  "I'm Benji," he said, caressing the back of her hand. I balled my own hands into fists and attempted to ignore the fact that I was getting fucking jealous over a woman I didn't know, a woman I didn't give a shit about. It was the stress of stepping back into the cage, that was all. "You are a hot topic, Julia. Travis can't stop talking about you."

  Oh, hell. Julia's eyes shot to mine, and I swallowed, wanting to punch Benji in his shit eating grin. I hadn't talked about her. I hadn't wanted to talk about her. "Come on," I said roughly, shooting darts at Benji with my eyes. "Let's get over to the bakery."

  Two Hours Later

  I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes and tried to ground out the approaching headache, the numbers swimming in front of my eyes slightly. After dropping Julia off at the bakery, I had closeted myself into the office, working on the accounts until I was nearly cross-eyed. The numbers, believe it or not, took my mind off of my problems for a while. It wasn't exciting by any means, but I had experienced enough excitement in my life to be able to push through the monotony.

  Leaning back in my chair, I stared at the wall above the computer. My life had been exciting once, the fights pumping more adrenaline into my body than any energy drink could do. I had been on top of the world, with my girl at my side and my career doing nothing but shooting straight up the ladder. Then I had gone and fucked it up. I had ruined that perfect existence, and I was never going to get that back. For the two years after her death, I had traveled to remote places, even trying meditation to find some relief from the overwhelming pain I was feeling. I had seen the bluest of waters in Belize, the rocky mountain tops of the Himalayas, the sandy dunes of the Egyptian desert. Nothing replaced that pain. Nothing replaced the fact that I had lost everything. I had gained nothing but intense loneliness during my journey.

  "Travis."

  I shook out of my thoughts and looked at the doorway, seeing a concerned Benji leaning against the doorframe. "I should deck you where you stand."

  A slight grin slid on his face. "Like you could. You and Tony have both turned into old men."

  I chuckled. I did feel old, the weight of my guilt and loss pressing on my shoulders. "Well, you forget I was the damn master at takedowns. You aren't very light on your boxy feet, Benji."

  He looked down at his feet. "What's wrong with my damn feet?"

  "They're boxy," I repeated. "What do you want?"

  Benji pushed away from the door and collapsed in the chair near the desk, stretching out his legs in front of him, his hands clasped together across his stomach. "Tell me why you won't get in the cage, Travis."

  I felt my throat seize up. I didn't want to have this conversation. "None of your fucking business."

  "The hell it isn't," Benji shot back. "You're part owner of this place. We are going down faster than I think we a
ll care to admit. I know you, man. You aren't one not to pull your weight. So what is it?"

  I swallowed and looked away, knowing he could see the emotion all over my face. He wouldn't understand. The need to be in that cage rolled through me like my own blood did. I lived and breathed fighting and was one of the lucky ones who hadn't suffered an injury to keep me out. Yeah, I was on the aging years' side of the sport, but I could still duke it out in the cage if I was so inclined to do so.

  But every time that I stepped near a cage, I saw Nicole on that cold slab as I positively identified her body. When I had raced to the hospital that night, they had already taken her to the morgue, with no spare rooms to put her in. She had looked like she was sleeping, not a mark on her perfect face. Internal hemorrhaging, the doctor had said. She hadn't had a chance to survive, dead before they could pull her out of the car. I had spent hours down there with her, telling her how sorry I was, and how I didn't want her to leave me even though she was long gone. Her parents had gathered me up finally and taken me to their place, where I had gone through the motions of a private funeral and burial before taking off. "I'm sorry," I finally said, blowing out a breath. "I just can't Benji."

  Benji slid forward, his hands resting on his knees. "Travis, you know, you can tell me anything man. I consider you and the other guys brothers. However, I can help you out, you know I will."

  "Thanks," I said tightly, his words meaning more than he could ever imagine. "I'm sorry, I can't help out."

  Benji slapped his legs and stood, running a hand through his hair. "Hey, you know it's fine. We'll think of something, okay?"

  He walked out of the office, and I turned back to the computer screen, anger welling up inside. I was fucking weak. I couldn't even help out the guys that had taken me in without question, save the place that I had found solace in and a way to be close to the fighting without being a part of it.

  Chapter Eight

  Julia

  "Thank you so much for your help today. I can't even begin to tell you how much you have bailed me out."

  I took the roll of bills that Hannah held out, tucking them into my jeans as I stripped off the apron, feeling like I was robbing her somehow. I had worked hard today, helping her fill the orders that she was behind on, and running the counter while she made her deliveries. While it wasn't a restaurant, the work was similar, and it had felt good to forget everything else for a while and just work. "Thanks for letting me still work here," I said, hanging the apron on the peg.

  "Will you be back tomorrow?" Hannah asked hopefully as she dusted off her clothes. "Of all the times for Lillian to have her appendix taken out, this was probably the worst."

  I smiled, thinking of how Hannah had rushed off to the hospital when her partner had called, yelling into the phone that she had to have surgery. It was clear that they cared for each other, and I was a little jealous. No, I was a lot jealous. I missed my friends, the restaurant, that comradery. I missed the drinks after a long night at like four in the morning, bellied up to the bar in the dark restaurant as we threw back shots of liquor. I missed it all.

  Realizing Hannah was still waiting on my answer, I gave her a half shrug. "I should be able to do that as long as you keep paying me."

  She laughed. "Deal. See you in the morning."

  "Night," I said, shrugging on my coat and walking out into the cold. Another two or three days and I would have enough for a plane ticket, though I wasn't so sure heading back to Cali was going to be the best of ideas right now. Whoever was after me, I could be taking the danger back to my friends. Right now they were safe, and I wanted them to stay that way.

  The cold tore through my coat as I reached into the pocket and pulled out the gloves Travis had lent me this morning, sliding my hands into the warm wool. I owed Travis a great deal, more than I could probably ever repay him, but I planned to. One day he would receive a check in the mail from me, along with a heartfelt note thanking him for everything he had done for me. I would always remember him fondly, and if I got out of this alive, I would forever thank him for saving my life.

  The gym doors swung open, and the object of my thoughts stepped out into the cold, drawing in a deep breath and blowing it out, crystallizing in the cold air. The snow had stopped falling for now, but the TV in Hannah's bakery had threatened more was on the way. It was piled up in drifts along the streets and buildings, unlike I had ever seen before. Kevin had told me about the Chicago winters, laughing as I had taken him to the beach on his visits, swearing that he needed to move. Now I was glad he hadn't. Sure I was in a world of trouble, but at least it was just me.

  Travis turned in my direction, and I stood there as he coolly assessed me with those eyes, those eyes that didn't tell me about the woman that had broken his heart or the reason he called her name out at night. Walking over, I gave him a tiny smile. "Hey, perfect timing."

  He didn't say anything for a moment, his hands thrust into the pockets of his coat, his jaw clenched tightly. Something was wrong. It wasn't my place to ask. I didn't even know Travis. So I came up with the next best thing. "Hey, I could really use a drink to warm up. Is there a place around here? My treat."

  I thought he was going to say no, but instead, he exhaled, moving his head toward the left. "Yeah, that sounds good. This way."

  I fell in step beside him as we trudged down the slick sidewalk, the sounds of the city around us. I wasn't sure what to say, knowing the need to keep to myself as much as I could. I could even be putting Travis and Hannah in danger, and the last thing I wanted was for them to get hurt because they were kind enough to help me out. This wasn't their fight; it was mine.

  Travis changed directions, and I stepped onto the street, feeling my boot start to slide on a patch of ice I hadn't seen. I shrieked and flailed my arms out, attempting to gain my balance before I found myself falling toward the asphalt, cringing right before I was swept up at the waist, pressed against something hard. And warm. Definitely warm.

  "Careful," Travis's soft voice said right above my ear, the smell of him swirling about my senses. My hands found his chest, and I felt the rapid beating of his heart under his coat, my breath coming out in short pants, but not because I had nearly fallen. He was warm, way too warm, and was slowly unfurling that knot of desire in my stomach, one that I thought had disappeared with Kevin's betrayal. I looked up, and my breath caught as I saw the intensity in Travis's eyes, questions lurking within their depths. But it wasn't just that I saw. I saw pain, tinged on the edges and my heart broke.

  He released me so suddenly that I nearly lost my balance once more, gripping his arm to keep from busting my tail on the asphalt. He didn't shake me off but instead helped me across the street and back onto the sidewalk. "Can you walk now?" he asked abruptly, his voice hoarse.

  "Sure," I said slowly. He was affected by me. Travis took off down the street, and I followed him, nearly running into the back of him as he stopped suddenly, throwing open a door and stepping aside. "After you."

  I didn't look at him, my nerves too jumbled as I stepped inside, finding the interior of a small bar that was jam-packed with people, the sound of music floating throughout the space. A lone bartender was doling out drinks, his shrewd eyes looking at us as we stepped up to the scarred top. "Terrible. Good to see you, man."

  Terrible? I looked over at Travis as he shook hands with the short man, a half smile on his face. "It's just Travis now, Jim. Can we get a couple of beers?"

  "Sure, sure," Jim said, giving me a once-over before pulling out two beers from the cooler behind the bar, popping the tops before he slid them over. "Let me know if you want anything else."

  Travis pointed to a few barstools, and we headed over, sliding into the space before someone else could grab them. "Terrible?" I asked after a moment.

  He had the grace to look embarrassed. "It's my, I mean, was my cage fighting name. All fighters have them. After a while, they just become your name."

  I looked at the walls, covered with photos of fighters
and fights. "I take it Jim's a fan?"

  Travis chuckled, taking a swig of his beer. "Yeah, Jim's a fan alright. He was one of the first MMA fighters."

  "Interesting," I said, taking a sip of my beer. The cool liquid slid down my throat, and I sighed. I did like me a cold beer after a long day, not much of a wine drinker. It was the one thing Kevin and I didn't agree on. He thought it was harsh for a woman to like beer, saying it was classier for me to drink wine and unfortunately, I had done that just to appease him. It was one of the many things I had done for him. "Why did you get into fighting?"

  I saw the light cross his face before he snuffed it out. "It was something to do."

  "Come on," I urged, giving him a look. "It's got to be more than that. Do you want to know why I got into the chef business?"

  He didn't answer so I pushed on anyway. "I loved to cook. My mom used to let me try new recipes when I was little. I liked to experiment with different flavors and took formal classes right after high school."

  He took another swig of his beer. "Your parents must be proud."

  I shook my head, a twinge of sadness in my veins. "My parents are dead." My mom died right before I graduated high school, a sudden heart attack that sent my father into a grieving spell he never recovered from. I still remember the day the police called, saying they had found him in the garage, dead by his own hand.

  "I'm sorry," Travis said softly. "I didn't know."

  "It's fine," I said lightly, not wanting to get weighed down in grief again. They wouldn't want me to continue to grieve for them now that they were together in the afterlife. I missed them every day. "Your turn."

  He chuckled, draining his beer before setting the empty bottle gently on the bar top. "You don't give up, do you?"

  "Never," I grinned, resting my crossed arms on the bar top. Travis looked as if he struggled for a moment, then blew out a deep breath. "I've been fighting all my life. I wrestled in middle and high school, but it was boring. My uncle got me into MMA when I was fifteen to alleviate some of the high-strung energy they said I had. I've been doing it ever since."