by Lane Hart
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “For everything. I wanted to be there, more than anything. I love you so damn much and my life has been nothin’ but a livin’ hell after causin’ you so much pain. I was tryin’ to do what you asked, what I thought was best for you, to not be a constant reminder of how much you lost all because I lost control. If I could have one day back to do over...you have no idea how much I regret what I did. Mace even warned me that hurtin’ James would come back on you and Mandy, and he was right.”
“It wasn’t your fault. It was Vito and James trying to get what they wanted all along and using you as an excuse. I never blamed you for what they did. Yes, Mace blamed you because he was angry and crushed. But now, even he can admit that Mandy was so lost to the addiction and suicidal…well, it probably didn't take much coercion for her to take more hits until...I just wish we could've saved her and that you hadn't left me.”
My entire body sags at hearin’ her say those words. Words I never thought I would hear her say. It doesn’t alleviate the guilt I’ll always have, but it lightens the burden on my soul knowin’ she doesn’t hold me entirely responsible.
“I’ve missed you so much, to the point that it takes me hours to just get out of bed every mornin’,” I say into her hair. “Without you there’s nothin’ to look forward to. Nothin’ that makes me happy or stops the ache.”
“I’ve missed you too,” she says against my jacket. “A lot. It’s why I bought Zelda.”
“Zelda?” When the dog’s ears perk up at its name, I can’t help but laugh for the first time since…I can’t even remember.
“Linc would’ve been too obvious, don’t you think?” Claire asks. Pullin’ back, but not away from me, she swipes her fingers under her eyes to dry her tears and then reaches up to scratch the puppy’s ear. “And I made sure she was a girl. I was going through an angry, anti-male everything stage. It wasn’t pretty.”
“It’s a great name,” I tell her. "But I hate to break it to Zelda…if I'm supposed to save a princess, it’s gonna be you every single time.” Seein’ her smile up at me, even with her eyes still shimmerin’ with tears, I can’t resist leanin’ forward and brushin’ a quick kiss over her parted lips. When her eyes close and she doesn’t turn her head away, I kiss her again. And again. By the fifth one, her arms are around my neck and our tongues are meetin’ for the first time in months. We stand there, lost in a kiss until heavy snowflakes start to rain down on us.
“Come home with me?” I ask her, and hold my breath for her response.
“Are you sure?” she asks softly, restin’ her head against my chest. "I may not ever want to leave."
"Good," I tell her, exhalin’ in sweet relief. "Because it's just a house, not a home without you. It’s where you belong."
"I saw an article about what you're doing with your beach house,” she says, placin’ a kiss on my neck. “If it's possible, I think it made me love you a little more."
"It was your amazin’ idea that everyone deserved to see the ocean, to feel that serenity in their soul at least once in their lifetime. Makin’ it happen was the easy part."
"You're incredibly sweet and kind," she says. "And I know you were behind the unexpected and undocumented 'life insurance' policy that just so happened to come in the mail on the same day as a flyer about a local art studio. Thank you. It took me a few weeks before I could work an entire shift without having a breakdown over someone's food, so I'm not sure what I would have done without it."
"I told you I'll always take care of you, no matter what."
"Yeah, but I prefer actually having you around, more than just stalking me. Just so you know, lime green isn't the best color vehicle for trying to be stealthy."
"Guess not," I agree with a smile.
Zelda wiggles in my arms and whines to get down.
"I think she's ready to go see her new home," I tell Claire when she hooks her leash back on, and I sit the dog on the ground.
"Me, too," she says with a smile before takin’ my hand and shiverin’. "It's freezing out here!"
"Let's go inside and get warm," I tell her. "Winter just started, but I'm already lookin’ forward to the summer. Maybe a trip to the beach in June?"
"That would be awesome," she agrees.
"We could invite all of our family and friends to the beach house," I suggest.
"Sounds fun."
"Would you want to exchange some rings and say some vows?"
She comes to a stop and turns to me, makin’ Zelda bark and yank on the leash tryin’ to keep her movin’ forward, but Claire doesn't budge.
I already know her answer before she smiles and says the three letter word that makes me the luckiest man in the world.
Epilogue
One year later…
I smile to myself as I wait, still hidden behind the scenes when the first notes of My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark blares through the speakers in the Patriot Center arena. The crowd noise is deafening and humblin’. Just before the first chorus of “Light ‘em up” I step out from the tunnel at the same time red and green pyrotechnic flames go off on either side of me. Usually they’re red, white and blue, but this year I gave Jax and Jude my Fourth of July pay-per-view night since I wasn’t quite ready to leave my new wife to train for a championship fight. After our June wedding, Claire and I have been spendin’ a lot of time at the beach, growin’ our non-profit that now has twenty houses donatin’ weeks of vacation for terminally ill patients.
So, tonight I’m startin’ a new tradition, hopin’ to win my belt back on Christmas Eve. It’s an emotional time of year, the anniversary of when I lost my son, but it’s also when I got my girl back last year.
My green Havoc hoodie stays unzipped but pulled up over my head as I walk toward the cage and Fall Out Boy plays on. Jude and my corner coach, Don Briggs, both of whom I’ve been workin’ a helluva lot with over the past six months, are right behind me. Since I’m in the red corner for this fight, I’m wearin’ snug, black and red spandex shorts covered with the ads of various sponsors, and red gloves are taped on tightly around my wrists.
Of course I search for her, knowin’ she’ll be in the front row right behind my corner. She stands out even in a crowd this huge, practically glowin’, so damn beautiful in a long, red, one-sleeve dress with her bronze hair in beautiful curls that fall over her bare shoulder.
When I get to her, Claire yells “Good luck!” to be heard over the music as she throws her arms around my neck. I pick her up in a crushin’ bear hug. “If you win, I’ve got a surprise for you,” she tells me, pressin’ her lips against my ear and sendin’ goosebumps down my spine.
“Well, fuck. Now I have to win, don’t I?” I tease, like there was ever any other option.
“Yes! Just, please don’t get hurt,” she says, helpin’ me shrug out of my hoodie.
“I won’t, baby,” I assure her, kissing the worry off her face. “I love you.”
“Love you too, Linc.”
Puttin’ my wife down, I hug each of my parents, my sister, Hailey, and my new brother-in-law.
“Show’ em how it’s done,” Mace says with a grin and a fist bump.
A year ago, Mace might’ve been ready to beat me to a pulp; but before Claire and I even got married, we both apologized for lettin’ our emotions take us over and have been cool ever since.
Finally, I walk up to the referee waitin’ for me in front of the cage to do the final inspection. I turn to Jude and we share a masculine, one arm embrace. Hard to believe that the last time I officially stepped into a cage for a title fight it was against him. I lost my belt, but gained him and Sadie as good friends, and now he’s even my business partner.
“Kick some ass,” Jude tells me with a slap to my shoulder.
“Plannin’ on it,” I assure him.
Don wishes me luck and hands me my red mouthguard. I shove it into place and hold my arms out for the referee to check me over from head to toe. Once I’m cleared, I run up the steps into the
cage ready to do this.
I finally look across the octagon and notice my opponent, who came into the arena before me. Luis Silva, fightin’ out of Brazil, is currently the fourth ranked welterweight in the world. He’s been on fire, and has never lost a fight. I’ve heard the Vegas odds even have him favored to win tonight because of his wrestlin’ background. There’s been a lot of speculation about whether or not I’ve fully recovered from my broken arm since it’s taken me so long to get back into the cage. What can I say? I’d rather spend my time with my wife than trainin’ all day every day, but you better believe I’ve worked my ass off to get ready for this fight. I’ve spent more time on my ground game with Jude, and have hammered almost every day on Senn and Mace, both heavy strikers that outweigh me by thirty pounds. I’m fuckin’ ready.
The big, burly referee stands between us, givin’ the final rules. He tells us to touch gloves, my red to his blue; and then with one word, the carefully contained beast inside me roars to life.
“Fight!”
Right off the bell I’m the aggressor, goin’ after Silva with a right cross that misses but a left jab that lands even as he tries to retreat backwards. He’s too slow. Off balance, he grabs me around the waist and tries to take me down where everyone knows I’ve had weaknesses in the past. Had being the keyword. Instead of resistin’, I let his momentum throw us both to the ground, confusin’ him long enough to wrap my arms around him and flip him so that his back smacks the canvas. I hear the air in his lungs come whooshin’ out on impact.
Knowin’ he’s likely stunned, I lock my legs around his hips, holdin’ him in place and start pummelin’ his face with both fists. His gloves come up to try and block my swings, so I land some blows to his ribs and gut. As soon as his hands drop to protect his body, I go back to hammerin’ his face. Within seconds, his entire body goes limp. The ref jumps between us, shovin’ me off of him and callin’ the fight.
The crowd I’d tuned out is suddenly roarin’ in my ears again. I get to my feet and pump one of my arms in the air in victory. With a face splittin’ grin, I point a gloved finger at Claire. She’s on her feet cheerin’ and smilin’ brighter than the sun. I shoot her a wink, silently tellin’ her she owes me that surprise. She nods her agreement excitedly.
Once Silva is examined by a physician and able to get back to his feet, we each stand on either side of the ref. Our gloved hands are both clasped in the refs before mine is raised with the announcer sayin’, “Winning by submission at two minutes and thirty seconds into the first round, presenting the former, and new, undisputed, Welterweight Champion of the World, Linc Abrams!”
After that, the arena becomes so loud I can’t hear a damn thing. Someone fastens the big, gold championship belt around my hips. I hate to say it, but I missed that damn thing and the title after Jude stole it fair and square from me over a year ago.
The ref continues to raise my arm as the winner, turnin’ me this way and that to face the cameras and the crowd, all of which seem to be on their feet. Damn, I’m pretty sure I’ve never had a standin’ ovation before.
“Congratulations,” the ref says with a final pat on my back, and then he quickly leaves the cage. That’s when I notice that I’m the only one standin’ in it. Where the hell did everyone go? Where’s Jude and Coach Briggs? Usually they’re allowed into the cage to congratulate me before I’m even named the official winner.
Ready to head out and celebrate with my wife, I start toward the cage door, but the announcer comes over the speaker from wherever he is and says, “Stay where you are, Linc! Your wife has a little surprise for you.” I’m just ready to wrap her in my arms and get the hell out of here. I want to go home to celebrate in our bed, but I do as he says while seekin’ Claire out again in the crowd.
Before I can find her, I get pelted with somethin’ soft on my back. What the fuck?
Turnin’ around, I barely raise my arm in front of my face before I’m bombarded with objects flyin’ at me from all directions. There’s no booin’ from the crowd, only cheers, so it doesn’t make sense why they’re throwin’ shit at me. I look down at the ground and see whatever they’re throwin’ pilin’ up in a puddle around my feet. My legs give out, and I hit my knees when I finally realize exactly what’s rainin’ down on me.
Strugglin’ to see through blurry eyes, I scoop up several small balls of cotton with a shaky gloved hand to look closer at them. Undoin’ a blue bundle first and then a pink and yellow set just to be sure, I’m left holdin’ six tiny baby socks in the palm of my hand.
Claire’s pregnant.
I’m gonna be a father.
My heart swells in my chest when I look up out into the crowd again, but can’t find her. There are a million questions runnin’ through my mind that I need to ask her. Is she okay with all this? We’ve only been married for six months and haven’t agreed to start a family. Claire just finished her second semester at NC State majorin’ in art education. Oh shit, will she have to drop out? I know how important gettin’ this degree is to her, because of her sister. Claire wants to share her love of art with patients in rehab facilities, teachin’ it as a form of emotional healin’ and relaxation technique to maybe help them stay clean. Of course I think it’s an amazin’ idea, but I start to panic that this might be a repeat of history.
Gettin’ to my unsteady feet, I spin around toward the cage door to go find Claire right as she collides into my chest. I wrap my arms around her to keep her upright, even though I’m still feelin’ off balance from this new, heavy weight I’m still clutching tightly in my hand.
“We’re havin’ a baby?” I ask against her ear, to be heard over the loud cheerin’ crowd.
“Yes,” she says, pullin’ back to flash me a smile and give a nod of confirmation. “Surprise!”
I cup her face with my empty palm and start firing questions as I look her over from head to toe. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay? How long have you known? When are you due? Are you okay?”
“Yes. Yes, as far as I know. Two days. August twenty-fifth, and you asked the last one twice but the answer is still yes, I’m definitely okay. More than okay.”
“You are? But what about school and we just got married—”
Claire stands on the toes of her red heels and kisses me to interrupt my interrogation. When she eventually retreats she says, “I can keep taking classes until next fall when the baby’s born, then I’ll just take a break until I decide to go back. It’ll be fine.” Reachin’ down, she removes my closed fist from her waist. After she turns it over, I open it for her and she starts pairin’ up all the tiny socks again. Once her task is finished, she looks around at the sea of yellow, pink and blue cotton surrounding us before lifting her wide, worried eyes back up to mine.“Are you okay? I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like this, on Thomas’s birthday, should I?” she asks, bitin’ her bottom lip.
“Oh baby, I’m great, ecstatic even,” I assure her, kissin’ her so she’ll stop chewin’ on her lip in unwarranted concern. Of course I can’t prevent the achin’ anxiety in my chest at the thought of losin’ another son or a daughter. But this time…I just have a good feelin’ that everything is gonna be fine. “I loved the surprise. I love you more than anything. Him or her, too.” Reachin’ down, I rub a gloved palm over her lower belly. It doesn’t feel any different yet, which sucks because I can’t wait to see and feel the proof that she’s really havin’ my baby. “Are you absolutely sure?” I can’t help but ask.
“I’m sure.” She laughs. “I took five tests. Now, there are a few thousand people who want to congratulate you, and then you can take me home so we can celebrate starting a family.”
“God, I can’t wait,” I tell her with another longer, lingerin’ kiss until a thought hits me. “We should probably go ahead and make up a new story about how we met.”
“Yeah,” she agrees with a sigh, runnin’ her palms down my chest. “Once upon a time, your daddy paid a lot of money for your mommy to dance naked for him in the back roo
m of a strip club because he thought she was a porn star may be the beginning of my fairytale, but it should never, ever be retold to our children.” I can’t help my own chuckle when she giggles sweetly. “At least we got our happy ending, right?”
“I wouldn’t call this a happy ending,” I tell her.
“You-you wouldn’t?” she asks, blinkin’ beautiful, watery blue eyes up at me in confusion.
“Nope,” I tell her as I stoop down and pick her up, literally sweepin’ her off her feet. Claire yelps in surprise, but then quickly throws her arms around my neck. “This is more like, hold on tight, baby, we’re just gettin’ started.”
The End
MACE
A Cocky Cage Fighter Novel
By Lane Hart
COPYRIGHT
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue were created from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual people or events is coincidental.
The author acknowledges the copyrighted and trademarked status of various products within this work of fiction.
© 2016 Editor's Choice Publishing
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Editor’s Choice Publishing
P.O. Box 10024
Greensboro, NC 27404
Edited by Wendy Ely and Angela Snyder
Cover by vocaldesign
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Photo ©istockphoto.com
WARNING: THIS BOOK IS INTENDED FOR MATURE AUDIENCES 18+ ONLY AND CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEX SCENES AND ADULT LANGUAGE!
