by Payton Hart
After several hours of playing, Cameron put down the controller.
“Is there something that I could play that doesn’t involve me thinking too much? All of this talking and trying to figure things out is great and all, but I’m tired.” He laughed nervously.
“Yeah, I’ll grab a racing game,” Heather said. She took the controller from Cameron, but she didn’t even put a different disc in. She just went to her game system’s menu and loaded up one of the preloaded games. One where they would race hovercraft, where the controls were simple and intuitive.
She handed Cameron the second controller and pointed out which buttons did which action. Then they started to race.
While they raced, they talked. At first it was just about fighting and stuff. Since that was really all they had in common. They talked about fans at meets and different manager rules and diets. But then they started opening up about deeper issues.
Heather started with how she was mostly still doing MMA because of her father, and for really no other reason outside of that. She told Cameron that she wanted to quit because she hated the fighting culture, but the only reason why she was sticking with it was to see if there was good in people.
Cameron laughed. “Is that why you started talking to me?” he asked.
“Actually, yes.” Heather admitted.
It was a little bit longer before Cameron opened up to her.
“See,” he said. “The reason I became a fighter was because I was bullied as a kid. So it started with a couple of self-defense classes. But then it turned into something more. It turned into a passion. I could become the big guy who beat all the bullies up.”
Heather raised an eyebrow. That seemed almost honorable.
“But I think I’ve screwed it up with that whole aggression comment that got published. Everyone now thinks that all fighters are just mean and angry bullies. And that’s exactly what I wanted to avoid.”
Heather frowned, thinking. “Maybe you just need to vary your life a little. Isn’t that what your manager was saying?”
Cameron nodded. “Yeah, it is. So that’s kind of why I started talking to you. Video games might not be great for my image, but at least I can say I do something that isn’t fighting. And this afternoon has been much more fun than my previous attempts at cooking.”
Heather snorted. “So let’s just ignore all of the people who say video games cause violence.”
“People say that?”
Heather was astounded. “Do you live under a rock or something? Of course people say that!”
Cameron looked taken aback. “I never knew.”
The race they were playing finished. Heather had placed first. Cameron had managed sixth. Which wasn’t bad for a first time racer.
“Do you want to go out sometime?” Cameron asked, almost nonchalantly. But Heather could hear the nervousness in his voice. As if he was afraid that she would say no.
Heather contemplated the proposition. After spending the afternoon with Cameron, she could see that there was something inside of him that he didn’t let out often. He could very well be a kind and caring person. She wanted to be kind and caring back.
“Yes,” she said. “That would be nice.”
***
In the end, Heather still ended up quitting MMA. She used her free time in the days leading up to her match to start applying for waitressing jobs in the area. She didn’t want to be a waitress forever, but she would be a waitress that put herself through school to be something else. She was considering psychology so that she could help people. It seemed pretty polar to MMA. And she wanted to do something completely different, regardless of what her dad said.
Cameron helped her apply for jobs when he had the time. He was still going to stick with MMA, but Heather didn’t hold that against him. She could separate him from the fighting culture and he needed to separate himself from it enough for his image anyway.
Their relationship was certainly not traditional. They spent most of their time playing video games or learning to cook. But they also found a good community service group to do things with. It really made Heather feel good about herself and Cameron seemed to enjoy it too, even if he only started doing it because his manager thought it would be a good idea.
Heather spent her last few trainings and the meet that followed still trying to find the good in the fighter culture. It was there, if she looked hard enough. But the knowledge that she was quitting gave her a wonderful level of peace that she was okay with. She would have to get a different gym membership, but that was something she could come to terms with. She was thinking of picking up running, anyway.
Connor eventually made it into the papers saying that there was good in everyone if someone bothered to look for it. He shared that he was a MMA fighter because he wanted to inspire young kids who got bullied to stand up for themselves. He stopped imagining every opponent as a bully, but as a competitor and nothing more.
Heather’s fight with her father was one of epic proportions. He threatened to cut her off, but the threat was short-lived because Heather was already mostly self-sufficient. She took on the last couple of bills for herself and told her dad that he had no room to say anything. He told her she was throwing her life away, but Heather didn’t like the life she had been living, so she regretted nothing.
“Do you think you’ll ever make amends with your dad?” Cameron asked as he grabbed a shovel.
Heather shrugged and wiped hair off of her face with a dirt-covered finger. It was cute. But Cameron didn’t say that out loud. She didn’t like it when he called her cute. But he could think it all he wanted.
“I’m sure it’ll sort itself out,” she said with a shrug. “But there is a certain level of pride that I have now that I’m really earning my own wages and stuff.”
“Weren’t you doing that as a fighter?” Cameron asked.
“Yeah,” Heather said. “Help me with this tree.”
Cameron helped Heather carry the tree from the truck it was delivered on and then to the hole in the ground they had just dug for it. It was their latest community service project. He was finally planting a tree.
“But there’s a level of appreciation I have now that I’m working in the food industry,” Heather said.
Cameron nodded, only sort of understanding. He supposed he would not fully understand unless he did what Heather was doing. But Cameron had no desire to do that. He was glad Heather didn’t want to make him quit MMA with the amount of resentment she still held for it.
“Hey, did you submit your application to that college?” Cameron asked.
Heather nodded. “My new life begins now.”
They finished putting dirt around the tree and stepped back to take a look at it. It was still a small tree, but one day it would get a lot bigger. The thought was an inspiring one for Cameron.
THE END
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Devoted to a Highlander
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"...Freya stood numb before the priest as he spoke the marriage vows. She only heard the drum of his voice as her mind had wandered afar. The fortnight had flown past as she and her mother and sister prepared for King Emmanuel’s decree. Her trousseau was readied in miraculous time and the dressmaker and six helpers had worked well into every night to ready her wedding gown. It was an exquisite gown of deep rose with hundreds of pearls glittering in the overlay of silver and pink lace. Before she knew it the fateful day had arrived and she was walking down the long aisle of Saint Paul’s cathedral with hundreds of dignitaries, royalty, and villagers. All to watch her repeat vows that would ruin her life.
“Miss Freya?” the priest prompted.
She started. Sneaking a peek at her groom, Freya could see his a
nnoyance at her inattention. She guessed at what her response should be and muttered it.
“I do.”
The priest carried on with the pledges and she heard Shawn’s response. She looked at the man who was becoming her husband and boldly assessed him. He was extremely handsome with thick, long dark brown hair. His features were keen with brilliant grey eyes that were currently piercing a hole straight through her.
“May God give you wisdom and patience and may he bless you for as long as you both shall live. You are now husband and wife,” Father Allain pronounced. He nodded to Shawn. “You may kiss your bride.”
Shawn had wondered what he would do when this moment arrived. He had thought to only kiss her cheek. But as he observed her throughout the ceremony his loins protested such a chaste peck. They cried out for more and he could not deny them. He pulled her to him roughly and kissed her thoroughly to the shouts and cheers of the audience. He pushed his tongue into her mouth. She tasted delicious and Shawn’s cock came alive. He felt her push against his chest but he did not draw back until her teeth bit his tongue sharply. He withdrew quickly and narrowed his hot grey eyes at her.
“To be continued,” he murmured.
He wanted to run his hands through her thick brunette hair and pulled out the pins that were holding it atop her head. He imagined the weight of it heavy in his palms as he raised it to his nose to smell its delectable scent. He thought he smelled lemon as they turned to process out of the church. The scent suited her. It was crisp, fresh, and authentic, which was much as his impression of her. She was beautiful beyond his expectations and her slim, curvaceous body fit perfectly against him. It was too bad that she was a McCree. This union might have had a chance if that were not the case. They left the church amid cheers from the hundreds of villagers who had not been able to enter the church. Shawn’s grand coach stood waiting to carry them back to his castle. He assisted Freya into the vehicle, then her mother and sister. A footman closed the door after he entered and they were off. There was an awkward silence in the coach as Freya sat as far away from him as the cushioned bench would allow. She smiled benignly then turned to look out of the window. He looked at her closely then memory dawn.
“I met you in the village a while ago. A youth had caused you to drop your basket,” Shawn recalled.
“And you stopped to assist me. You were very kind. I thank you again. That occurred several months ago. You have a very good memory,” Judith said admiringly.
He shrugged.
“I never forget a face,” he remarked.
“I would think that a very valuable trait. Don’t you agree, Freya?” Judith tried to bring Freya into the conversation.
“It would depend on the person of his memory. I doubt that his enemies would find it laudable,” Freya muttered.
Judith’s green eyes censored Freya fiercely. Her sister, Sabra, exclaimed and Judith elbowed her sharply. It was obvious that Judith had her hands full with her two daughters. Well, although it was against his will he had taken one of them off of her hands. Freya was proving to have a sharp tongue, which was the last thing that he wanted in a wife. But her tongue also showed that she was not docile. She had fire and that made for enjoyable times in bed, if not out of it. He looked forward to the time when he could take his bride to their chambers and shut out the revelry of the celebration. He may not have wanted to marry her but he most definitely wanted to bed her. Having her in his bed would be his reward for being an obedient servant to the king.
“We have arrived,” Shawn announced as he jumped from the coach.
END OF PREVIEW
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