The Ballerina & The Fighter (Book 1)

by Ursula Sinclair

  At first Joe was furious with me and with the others, but he had no control and he knew it. Even though I had no choice, I still couldn’t fucking believe I had to throw this fight, and I was going to do it. It was only three days away and no way out. I ducked my head under the shower and tried to let the jets from the water ease my sore muscles and wash away my misery.

  Ivy. She was never far from my thoughts. I knew I was a shit having left her like that, but what else could I do? I had managed to stay away from her. It was the hardest three weeks of my life. I knew she thought of me now, if she thought of me at all, as a total asshole. Someone who only wanted to fuck her then leave her. It was the farthest thing from reality.

  I couldn’t tell her the truth and I refused to drag her into my problems. But damnit I missed her. I missed her so much my aches had a name, Ivy. I didn’t return any of her calls or texts; it was the right thing to do. To free her from me. After a couple of days when I hadn’t responded, she stopped trying and it hurt like hell. But a clean break was the best, she’d go on and continue to dance and I would continue to do what had to be done. I stepped out of the shower and changed before heading back to the front office where I was supposed to meet Joe. I saw that douche bag Jai as I passed by one of the rings, I’d accidently stabbed one of his cronies. One of the guys in the alley had fallen onto his own knife. Stupid fuck. I was told for awhile it wasn’t clear if he was going to live or not, but he had. Lucky me I guess, otherwise I could be facing charges. To the Triad it didn’t matter, I’d drawn first blood and now Jai was out for mine. It’s a good thing he was not the fighter I’d be fighting. I wasn’t sure if I could throw a fight for that shit head. He was nowhere as fast or as good as I was, bare handed or with blade. He wasn’t as good as he thought he was either, but his older brother ran one of the Triad groups so Jai had pull.

  I knocked on the office door, and then just pushed it open; I knew Joe expected me. I didn’t see him in there and at first I thought the room was empty. I walked in and headed for the chair in front of the desk to wait for Joe. I dropped my gym bag at my feet, and was just about to take a seat, when I noticed a pair of shoes and pant-covered legs lying on the floor on the other side of the desk. I jumped up and ran around to the other side and damned if my heart stopped beating. Joe lay on the floor on his back, his eyes were closed.

  “Joe, Joe!” I screamed rushing to his side. I touched the side of his neck and I felt a slight pulse. “Help,” I began to scream, “help!”

  One of the other managers rushed into the room and came around the side of the desk. He took one look and said to someone else who must have been in the room, “Call 911, now!”

  I don’t think I’ve even been more scared in my life. I rode in the ambulance to the hospital with him. They rushed him into one of the rooms where I couldn’t follow. I had no clue what the hell was wrong with him, but at least he was breathing. One of the nurses directed me to an area to give them some information on him. I gave her my insurance card, which was the same as his, but I could tell her nothing about his health other than he always seemed fine to me. Maybe moving a little slower, but the man was ancient, like sixty three. She told me to have a seat in the waiting area while the doctors examined him and someone would be out to talk to me. She handed me a pager and told me when it vibrated to come back to the desk, the doctor would be there.

  I only left my seat to walk down the hall to get a drink of water and returned to my seat. I held my head in my hands; I was alone. Joe was my only family and I was his. I didn’t even have my gear with me, I’d left it back at the office and my cell phone was in the bag. If I’d had it, there was only one person I’d call. Ivy. I needed her with me so badly. Something made me look up and I saw two members of the Triad heading in my direction. One was a leader like Joe, they were like brothers, he also backed Joe’s desire to embrace the legitimate principals of a Tong; the other man was his bodyguard. Uncle Tsang sat down beside me. I’d called him that since I was five years old.

  “How is he Maze?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know, they haven’t told me anything yet.”

  Uncle Tsang placed his hand on my shoulder and patted it. “Don’t worry. That old goat is too strong to be in this place for too long.”

  He glanced up at his shadow, who’d taken a position at the end of the row of chairs. Uncle Tsang must have used some silent signal I didn’t pick up on, because the man came over to him and Uncle Tsang spoke in rapid fire Cantonese, which I mostly got the gist of. He told him to go check with the nurses on the status of his friend. I was grateful to have Tsang with me.

  Of the five heads, Tsang was the only one Joe trusted. Although it was Tsang who, knowing Joe wanted out, posed an easy yet profitable way for him to accomplish it. I knew it wasn’t Tsang’s fault the other heads decided I could be of use to them, too. Tsang had argued against my further involvement in the activities of the Triad and continued to do so. But one against three, not likely to happen. Joe was kept out of it, since they no longer considered him as having a vote. Joe was the pawn they’d use to keep me close. Joe thought all that would be required of me was to throw the fight, but it was so much more than that and I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. He’d find out soon enough. Besides, there was really nothing he could do, anyone could do. Even Uncle Tsang couldn’t convince the others the money they made off the fight should be compensation enough.

  Tsang’s guard came back with a doctor in tow with a different nurse at his side. Tsang’s hand on my shoulder helped to continue to brace me. The doctor looked between Uncle Tsang and me, then down at his clipboard. “Maze Chang?”

  “Yes, that’s me. I’m his step-son. How is he doctor?” I noticed the look of confusion on the doctor’s face over an obvious Asian name and a white man, I’d seen it many times on others. Joe had legally changed my name when he adopted me. I asked him why once, and he told me my mom would have wanted him to. That was good enough for me.

  “I wish I had better news for you son, but your step-dad’s had a myocardial infraction.” It was my turn to look confused because he realized he’d have to break down that explanation for me. “A massive heart attack. There appears to be major blockage,” the doctor clarified.

  He went on to explain about the heart muscles and cell damage. I understood about half of what he said really, part of me was in shock. Joe had been my rock from the time I could remember. The only thing I really understood was that he’d had a heart attack and if he didn’t have the surgery now he would die.

  Numbly I signed the forms the nurse shoved in front of me without looking at them.

  “As soon as we’re done and know more I’ll come back out and talk to you,” the doctor said then he and the nurse walked off.

  Tsang and I sat down prepared to wait. I wasn’t budging. At some point either Tsang moved or his guard did, he placed a cup of coffee in my hand. I drank it just for something to do. My mind was on the only father I’d ever known, and the woman I wanted desperately to be there with me. I had no idea how much time had gone by when my pager began to flash red and vibrate. I jumped up, my legs were stiff because I hadn’t moved in awhile. That didn’t stop me from heading to the nurse’s desk. The same doctor who’d spoken to me before was there this time in green surgical scrub. When he saw me he walked toward me. Before he could say anything it was Tsang who asked the question I couldn’t seem to choke out.

  “How is he doctor?”

  The doctor smiled. And my lungs expanded in relief. He wouldn’t be smiling if the news was bad. “He came through the surgery, and we managed to get the blockage removed.”

  The doctor said some other things but that’s all I heard, all I need to hear. He was alive and I’d be allowed to go in and see him as soon as he was taken to a room. But he’d be placed in intensive care for now.

  The doctor left and then another nurse explained to us where we could go to wait for Joe. I’m glad Uncle Tsang was with me, he’d had his hand on my
shoulder while the doctor spoke. He left his bodyguard downstairs and he rode the elevator up one floor with me to where they’d take Joe. At least he paid attention to where we were supposed to go. I guess I was still numb. Once we arrived on the right floor, we were directed to yet another waiting area where we were told to, yes, wait. So we did. I put my head down and felt Uncle Tsang’s arm over my shoulder once more. He might have even spoken words of reassurance to me. I wasn’t sure. I had no idea how such a thing could have happened. Joe was in good shape, okay he had a little punch but he was not overweight for his height and bone structure. His diet for the most part was the same as mine and he worked out with me almost everyday. How could he be sick? But he was.

  It had been a long time since I’d prayed. I wasn’t even sure I remembered how or even if there was anyone there to listen. No one answered the prayers of a child when his mother was shot and he prayed for her to live. Begged a god not to take her away from me. Those prayers went unanswered that time. I think that’s when I stopped believing. Still, I tried it again. I prayed Joe would recover and be all right.

  When the nurse came to find us, she said we could go in but only one at a time and only for five minutes. I went in first and had to swallow the damn lump in my throat when I saw Joe. He was hooked up to all kinds of machines and his eyes were closed, like he was asleep, there were lines on his face that hadn’t been there this morning. I went over to the hospital bed and took his hand. The pressure I felt on my fingers had me glancing toward his face. His eyes were open and he was staring at me.

  “Hi,” I said. “How do you feel?” It was all I could think of to say. And not beg him not to die, not to leave me.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  His voice was super soft, I strained to hear him. “Did the doctor speak to you?”

  “Yeah…heart attack…fine now.”

  He kept blinking. I wasn’t sure if he even knew exactly what had happened to him beyond the fact he’d had a heart attack and was in the hospital. His eyes shut and didn’t reopen, the hand that had squeezed mine went slack. I let his hand go and patted his arm. I stood up and moved closer to him kissing his forehead. Tears welled up in my eyes. Joe and I weren’t the kissing kind, rough hugs or high fives was about it. But I knew he loved me like a son as I loved him like a father. “I will come back in the morning. Love you, Joe,” I whispered and left the room. I returned to the waiting area where Uncle Tsang waited.

  “How is he?” Tsang asked.

  “He seemed tired; he could barely keep his eyes open. I think he fell asleep.”

  “Wait for me. I’m just going to pay my respects I’ll be right back. I’ll give you a lift home.”

  True to his word Tsang wasn’t gone long, and he took me home. I walked into the empty rowhouse we’d been staying in while in New York for the fight. The place was empty, it wasn’t the first time I came home and Joe wasn’t there, but it was the first time I felt so alone. I went up to my room and lay on the bed; I reached for the phone beside me then put it down. I remembered I’d never memorized her number, it was in my cell phone, which was still back at the gym. Then I sat up, it suddenly occurred to me my contacts were also in my iCloud all I had to do was get my laptop. Things had changed.

  “Fuck it!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ivy

  “You’re on!”

  The strident voice of the chorographer cut through my thoughts. Crap! I almost missed a cue. I had to focus. Dante hugged me and whispered, “Don’t let the fuck win.”

  I smiled and nodded at him. He always knew what to say. For the last few weeks I’d existed in a fog. I got up, went to classes, rehearsal and home. Spoke when I was spoken to, went out once or twice with Dante and some of the other dancers, minus Christy. Even took a call from my parents. But underneath it all, my heart was bruised. I refused to think broken, Maze bruised me. And damnit it hurt. After that night we made love, I refused to call it anything else, even as a novice, I knew we connected. We always had. He was inside my heart and for a moment when we’d joined I would have sworn I was inside of his. Which made his disappearing, again, confusing, bewildering and unforgiveable. I had more questions than answers when it came to him. Why did he come back into my life, show me emotions I’d never had with anyone else only to leave? Without a word, just gone, and not returning my text or calls.

  Dante got us into position. I plastered a smile on my face and looked out in to the audience and waited for the point in the music for me to move, vowing to forget everything and just immerse myself in the music and dance. Let it take me to that place it always had. The movements came easily to me. I knew these steps; I’d danced them a thousand times. Move to the far side away from Dante, sout de chat, then after coming down I landed my turns came out of them in to an arabesque, then Dante lifted me into the press lift. The next move was easy, after he put me down we ran around each other to prepare for another lift. But Dante had the strength to carry it off, and I trusted him. When we came together again he lifted, then twisted me so I landed high on his shoulder, for the shoulder sit.

  When he released me I ran forward away from Dante, into a developpe and my foot skidded on a spot on the floor, throwing me off center. I felt the twist and pull on my ankle then I was falling, unable to stop it but I immediately popped back up for the remaining eight counts. I finished my variation then I stepped to the side as Dante began his variation. At that point as I stood still I realized the extent of the injury from the stabbing pain shooting from her ankle and I had still to perform the fouette in the coda.

  I ignored the applause Dante got from the crowd and pushed through the pain to think quickly. Instead of the fouette, I piqued, turned on my uninjured foot around Dante and sauted off stage Dante quickly following behind me. Thank God the show was over.

  The moment I made it back stage I collapsed to the ground my ankle unable to hold my weight. The pain excruciating, resonating through every nerve in my body. Dante immediately knelt beside me, and everyone else soon surrounded me. I think I must have passed out for a moment from the excruciating pain running rampant through every nerve ending in my body, starting from my ankle. I looked at my ankle and it’s swollen three times the size it normally is. The moment Dante tried to remove my pointe shoe I cried out and felt woozy.

  The entire time I prayed this injury not be as bad as the last time I’d injured that same ankle, a lateral sprain. Fully aware each time you hurt an ankle the strength never quite comes back. It’s never the same. But from the pain this was much worse.

  I remember people trying to talk to me but I couldn’t hear them, tears coursed down my face. My world revolved around pain. Dante picked me up and carried me to my dressing room. Christy came in and helped me get out of my costume, Davis the director came in saying an ambulance was on its way. I don’t remember the EMTs arrival, just being lifted onto the gurney and then the drive in the ambulance to the hospital. Dante was in the ambulance with me holding my hand, he managed to change too. He spoke to the EMT in the back, but I couldn’t focus on their conversation. I know he tried to say encouraging things to me but we both knew it’s over. My ankle was severally sprained, I wouldn’t be surprised if I had torn tendons, that’s not something a ballet dancer easily over comes.

  A ballet dancer’s life center stage is a short one. Being on point is harsh on the body and the older you are the worse it becomes. The tears continued to seep from my eyes, I turned my head so he wouldn’t see, but of course he did and wiped them off. Soon we were at the hospital and they took me out of the ambulance and wheeled me into the emergency room. Funny, just as they moved me toward one of the rooms to tend to me, just before the door shut, I could have sworn I saw Maze getting off an elevator. For a split second our eyes met. I shut my eyes; it was probably my mind playing tricks on me. I was in pain in more ways than one as I thought of my life. And all I wanted was still Maze, the boy who’d left me behind not once but twice; this second time was so much worse.


  “Torn tendons,” the doctor said, after his examination and looking at the scan of my ankle. He didn’t tell me anything I hadn’t already figured out myself. I would have rather he said it was broken. Breaks can heal, tendons not so much. He turned to the nurse and told her what he’d need to place it in a cast. The doctor turned back to me. “I want to keep this immobilized, I won’t recommend surgery yet. Let’s wait and see once the cast is off.”

  Dante squeezed my hand. He’d stayed with me the entire time, leaving me only briefly while I’d been taken to Imaging for them to take an x-ray of my ankle. He stopped trying to be reassuring and upbeat. I knew he’d hoped it was just a sprain, which in itself wasn’t a good thing either. Sprains are injuries that dancers also have a hard time recovering from, the ankle becomes weaker making it easier to sprain it again. I’d already had mine sprained once two years ago. This pain was worse.

  After they were done, they gave me crutches, but I was wheeled out of the examine room. As soon as the doors opened I saw Maze sitting in the waiting area.

  “What the fuck are you still doing here?”

  I turned to look at Dante. “You knew he was here?” So I hadn’t been imagining him earlier. I had seen him get off the elevator and he stayed. “Why didn’t you tell me?” But I knew why, Dante was being protective. He knew exactly how much Maze disappearing had hurt me. I turned to look at Maze who’d come over to us.

  Maze ignored Dante, and stared at my leg. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  At least the cast was neon pink and not white. Dante had already drawn a pair of ballet shoes on it; it looked pretty good, too. “I’ll live. What…what are you doing here?”