Drawn to Fight: Zac & Evie

by Lilliana Anderson

  She grins. “Are you sure you weren’t away taking some sort of poetry and prose course to woo the hearts of disenchanted women?”

  I grin. “I don’t think I even know what that means so I’m going to go with no. Plus, I’m pretty sure poets don’t split each others eyebrows open.” I point at my head where my brow is taped together from a fight I don’t remember.

  She rolls over to face me, and my eyes automatically scan her naked body, drinking in the sight of her full breasts as if it has been months instead of weeks since I saw them.

  I cup one with my hand and lean down, running my tongue around her nipple until it hardens and peaks. “Although, I’m pretty sure I can figure out some sort of poetry or, what was that other one?”

  “Prose,” she laughs.

  “Yeah, prose. I could probably come up with something pretty fucking awesome with a body as delicious as yours around to inspire me.”

  “Oh yeah? And how would it go?”

  “Hmmm, I’m not sure if it would rhyme,” I say, leaning down and giving her other breast an equal amount of attention. “Maybe it would be ‘The colour of a dusty rose, hardened from my touch, her core is wet and ready, for my deep internal touch.”

  “You said ‘touch’ twice,” she giggles as I lift her legs, placing them over my shoulders, slowly pushing inside her.

  “I’m still learning,” I whisper, gliding into her depths then back out again, my thumb finding her hard nub between us as I slowly grind against her.

  “Ohhh!” she gasps out, her body arching, her arms sliding against the sheets as she loses herself to our connection.

  Reaching out, I take a hold of her hand and bring it to my lips, sucking on her fingertips before guiding her hand to meet mine. “Touch yourself for me,” I whisper.

  And her eyes meet mine. A slight hesitation in them at first before she begins to move her fingers over her nub, at first with me then after a moment, I withdraw so she’s doing it to herself.

  I leave myself inside her, rocking my hips lightly as she circles her clit, her eyes locked with mine as her mouth falls open in a gasp. I watch as her cheeks heat and her eyes lose their focus then I feel her walls shudder around me as she comes, her hips quivering, her insides pulsing.

  Before her shudders subside, I grip her thighs and begin to move, hard and fast inside her, pushing against her depths, causing her to call out with each thrust. Each erotic noise from her throat makes my cock ache until she lets out a great moan and I feel her shuddering again. I explode inside her, spilling my come into her depths, and holding us together. Joined at the hips, a merging of bodies, the sweetest of all sins. I love this woman. Pure and simple. I love her. And I will live every day trying to do right by her and earn her love in return.

  I lean down and kiss her parted lips. “I love you,” I whisper.

  “More than words,” she sighs in return.

  PART SIX

  ‘When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love.’

  ― J.K. Rowling

  Forty-Three

  Zac

  A week isn’t very long to prepare for a fight. My arm is still healing from where my stepfather cut it, and my ribs are still painful from where I slammed into the benchtop. They were finally getting better, and now I’m right back where I started, needing to be careful of that side.

  When I left, I fucked up. I lost valuable training time, and I lost my chance to apply for custody of my siblings. By the time I got back, the hearing had already happened and I was informed that a couple had put their hands up to take all three kids as well as Meg for the few months until she turns eighteen. The decision isn’t final yet, but the social worker I spoke to sounded optimistic, which gives me a bit of peace because my worst fear was separating them and risking bad homes. At least if they’re together, they can look after each other.

  So things are looking up and if I can somehow manage to win this fight then life may not be so hard anymore.

  “How you doing, kid?” Evie’s grandfather, Barry asks me as I head into the gym for training. Today is my last day before this weekend’s match, and I need to make the best of it.

  “Good. No, great. I’m leaning toward great today. You training with us this morning?”

  “You think you can knock an old man down?” he asks, walking along beside me.

  “I think you’re not as old as you pretend to be and you’re probably just as likely to knock me down.”

  He chuckles. “You’ve got me there. And to answer your question, no, I’m not training with you today. I’m coming in to study the videos the grandkids found of your opponent. What’s the bloody name they call him?”

  “Great White Shark. He’s six five and built like a brick shit house.”

  “Yes well, you know what they say, the bigger they are…”

  “The harder they fall,” I add knowingly.

  “No. The bigger they are, the harder they hit. So be fast on your feet, kid.”

  Nodding, I take a deep breath. “I plan to be.”

  He leads me into the dojo where Damien is already waiting with a laptop set up on a portable table with a video already paused on the screen.

  “Let’s get started. We’ve got a lot to get through,” he says and we all take a seat and go through videos, trying to pick out weaknesses in his style. We also pull up videos of me fighting, and pull apart my weaknesses so I know what he’s going to be looking for to knock me out.

  “The ribs are going to be your biggest problem,” Damien says, pointing out how I tend to favour my left side. “It’s obvious that you have a problem and they’re going to do their best to exploit it.”

  Over and over, we watch the videos before we spend hours working on combinations that could give me the competitive edge.

  Fighting Fit employs a variety of martial artists who all work to a schedule, running specialist classes at different times. But today, they’ve all been asked to come in and advise me, each adding their own expertise as they try to come up with something to help me.

  By the end of the day, I’m exhausted, but I feel like I’m as ready as I could possibly be and I have one man to thank for it.

  “Damien, I just want to let you know that having you coach me through this has been nothing short of awesome. You’ve made a huge difference to my fighting style and regardless of what happens, I want to say thank you now.”

  He slaps me on the back and smiles. “Don’t mention it, Zac. It hasn’t been all horrible for me either. Just go out there and win tomorrow so I don’t have to look at Harry’s ugly mug again, ok?”

  “Ok.”

  “Now come on. I’ve got Yvonne waiting for us back at the house. We’re all having a big barbeque to wish you good luck tomorrow night.”

  “Seriously?” I ask, feeling surprised that they’re going to so much trouble for a kid who’s really been a pain in their arse since the moment they met me.

  “Yeah, seriously. Don’t look so shocked. You’re practically family now. Get used to it.”

  Family. The word hits me and bounces around in my mind, and I wonder if it’s true. Can another family really accept me as one of their own? I mean, my own parents didn’t want me. How can Evie’s family really care enough to think of me that way?

  I glance over at Damien, listening as he makes easy conversation with me about the techniques we worked on today and what he thinks I can use against the Great White Shark this weekend. Our rapport is smooth and I feel…I feel like I fit in. And I realise that this is the first time I’ve ever had that. It’s the first time I’ve felt like this is somewhere I could belong.

  ***

  “Alright, alright. Settle down. I’m going to say something, and I’ll do my best to make it quick,” Damien says as he stands at the head of the massive outdoor setting that lives under a large awning behind the Rhodes’ home. It sits ten comfortably, making room for Evie, her four siblings, her parents, her grandparents and me.
But with the added chairs for Jason, Sisley and Lucas, it’s got room for a snug thirteen. When I look around the table, I see what I can only describe as joy and I realise why Evie always seemed so sure of herself despite the rumours at school. It’s because she had this. She had a loving family.

  “Get on with it!” Evie’s grandmother, Jan, calls out to Damien, throwing a cherry tomato at him, which he deflects effortlessly. Evie laughs as she leans on my shoulder and waits for her father to give his ‘quick’ speech.

  “Ok, I’ll get to it. The past few months haven’t been the easiest for a lot of us. But now, looking back, I realise that I’ve actually come, dare I say it, to like the boy who came into the gym, all fists and fury. He’s trained hard to become one of the best fighters I’ve seen in a very long time. And I’ve dedicated more time to the gym than the tattoo studio lately because, Zac, you’ve reignited my love of fighting and exploring ways of blending styles for the ultimate combat. So, on this evening, I want to welcome you to our family as Yvonne’s partner – because I don’t think we’re going to get rid of you,” he jokes, causing everyone to laugh as he gives me a wink and smiles as he continues. “And we all want to wish you the best of luck for tomorrow.” Those around the table let out a whooping noise or clap, looking at me and smiling, making me feel like a part of this. It’s strange to be here, like I’m sitting in someone else’s movie or something. It’s warm and it’s inviting and I find myself wanting this to be my life, even though I wish even more that the kids and Meg were here to be a part of this too.

  “And,” Damien calls out, holding his hands up once more. “I want to announce that we are finally taking Yvonne’s advice and officially adding mixed martial arts to the gym’s program. Maybe we can put a few kids into the UFC without having to go through the underground circuit.”

  This announcement gets a squeal out of Evie as she yells, “Finally!” and hugs me happily before settling down and looking right at me. “Finally,” she whispers again, leaning in to press her lips to mine.

  We get a bit of a reaction from her family, some happy, some a little grossed out to see their sister kissing a boy. But we don’t mind. I think for me, this moment is the probably the happiest I’ve been in my life. The only thing it’s missing is three small faces and a surly teenager. But I hold out hope that their new family is going to be good to them and perhaps we’ll find something like this with them too. I have to have hope because I really think those kids deserve a happy ending.

  Forty-Four

  Evie

  After an anxious day made even worse by the fact that Harry Nelson and his thugs are waiting with us at the house, the text message with GPS coordinates to the fight finally comes in at 9pm.

  “This is it, kid,” Harry says, gripping Zac by the upper arms as he smiles up at him. I really dislike this guy’s slimy face and wish he wouldn’t put his hands on my man. “Win this, and your future is going to be a whole lot different – the road to the big time is waiting for you.”

  “And what do you get out of it? That’s what I don’t get. How come, if I win, you let me go but, if I lose, you keep me on? Sounds like you’ll make more money if I lose,” Zac says.

  Nelson lets out a chuckle. “You’re a smart kid. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Truth is, I’m a low level promoter. I find the fighters pre-season out at Londonderry. I put the good ones through the Rumble Circuit, take a cut of their winnings along the way, and if they win the whole thing, I get a big payout at the end. Call it a scouting fee if you want, but it’s how Jasper finds his fighters for the official league.”

  “Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to promote some fighter all the way through their career?”

  “Gonna miss me, kid?” he grins.

  “I’m not saying that. I just don’t get it.”

  “A promoter can only take you as far as their connections run. I can take you to the Rumble, Jasper can take you to the league. It’s really as simple as that. Now come on, get your arse in the car. It’s time to finish this.”

  Zac nods, then reaches out to take my hand, walking with me toward the new looking Chrysler van as the side door opens automatically to let us in.

  “Oh, and kid,” Nelson calls from the other side of the vehicle. “Do me a favour and win this, you really have been a pain in my arse this season, and I’ll be happy to see the back of you.”

  Zac grins and lets out a chuckle. “Will do. Besides, I’m not too fond of you either.”

  ***

  The GPS coordinates lead us to a large property up in the mountains where the cage is set up in the middle of a grass field out of sight of any roads. There are people everywhere, much more than I’ve seen at any fight before now. Although, much like that very first fight out at Londonderry, there’s a band playing and kegs flowing, giving the whole event a big party atmosphere.

  There’s a tent set up for the fighters to go to and when we get in there, it’s divided into four areas. We see Sparks in one of them, waiting to go up for his fight for third place.

  He stands up when he sees us. Although the guy with him obviously warns him against it but, he holds up his hand to tell the guy to back off, then makes his way over to us, a rather contrite look on his face.

  “Good luck tonight,” he says to Zac, looking between the two of us before clearing his throat and going on. “Listen, I just want to say that I’m sorry about how things went down. It was never my intention. I only wanted to make her happy.”

  Zac nods. “Well, your intentions were all wrong,” he states, staring Sparks down. The tension radiates off his body and I place my hand on his back to remind him that now isn’t the time to deal with this.

  Sparks goes to say something but instead, I interrupt. “Good luck with your match tonight, Hugo,” I say, taking Zac’s hand and steering him away. None of us need this right now. Not when there’s so much at stake.

  As we turn around, the fighter they call The Great White Shark enters the tent with his team. The man is huge. Like, one and a half times Zac. If ever he was cast in a movie, he would be Bane. There’s no other role for him. He looks over at us with his dead eyes and grins like a predator seeking out a meal.

  “Pretty girl,” he states, his eyes dragging over me before he stares right at Zac. “If she ever gets tired of boys, send her to me. I’ll show her what men are like.”

  “You fucking…” Zac starts, jolting forward, until I grab his arm and Nelson calls out.

  “Hammer,” he says in warning, and I whisper to Zac not to let the Shark goad him.

  “He’s trying to get in your head.”

  “He shouldn’t be looking at you,” he insists.

  “Then beat his arse and show him who the man is.”

  Nodding, he kisses my forehead, letting out a deep sigh and guiding me back to our area where we sit behind curtain dividers. Nelson takes a call and informs us what time Zac will be fighting. Now, it’s just a matter of waiting in our area until it’s time.

  ***

  “Here he is, folks! He was the runner up in last year’s Rumble and has come back with a vengeance, taking down all of his opponents with his vice-like grip, like jaws of The Great. White. Shark! Make some noise!”

  The crowd screams and cheers as this mammoth of a man enters, then runs around the cage, holding his strapped hands above his head like he’s already won. When he smiles, I see his mouth guard is printed with what looks like shark’s teeth. He obviously takes his name very seriously.

  “And going up against him, a boy who is practically half the size. He’s the Circuit’s newest and youngest edition and fights like he’s made of steel and packed full of dynamite. Let’s hear it for The Hammer!”

  I cup my hands around my mouth and scream as Zac runs into the ring, coming to stop in the centre and doing his usual slow spin as he takes in the adoration of his fans. And as always, he takes a pause to meet my eyes and smile, ensuring our connection, ensuring he stays grounded.

  “This is
a true David and Goliath match tonight, folks,” the announcer calls out. “And the usual rules apply. No holds are barred. Fighters will fight until one taps out or doesn’t get up. The winner of tonight will take home one hundred K and an invite to Sydney’s amateur MMA circuit, and be well on their way to going pro. Runner up, gets a sore head, fifty K and an automatic invite back to next year’s Rumble. Are we ready?”

  The crowd roars and I hear ‘Yes!’ and ‘Get on with it’ and ‘I want to see some blood’ during the announcer’s pause.

  Then he raises his arms and yells, “Fight!” and my heart stops.

  The world moves in slow motion for me, and all I can hear is my breathing and the shuffling of feet on the dew covered grass. Zac and Great White do the usual dance that all fighters do, waiting for that moment to strike.

  It’s primal. It’s exciting. And it’s nerve-wracking. Seeing Zac standing next to this guy worries me. Great White is vicious, and he’s a man with everything to prove.

  The first blow is delivered by Great White. He strikes out, moving to hit Zac in the torso, and true to his training, Zac deflects the blow, palming it across his body as he lands a hit in the Shark’s kidneys as he steps through.

  Taking the opportunity with the Shark’s back to him, Zac jumps up and wraps his arms around his neck in a chokehold, hoping to end this swiftly. But the Shark is too strong, and bends forward, rushing at the cage, slamming Zac against it.

  The force causes Zac to release his hold to brace himself from the crushing impact of the cage.

  Recovering quickly, Zac does a quick double punch combo into the Shark’s side then brings his knee up to land a hit in this thigh. Although Great White, slaps Zac’s thigh to the side the punches him in the side of the jaw, following through with a left, right, left, right. Zac raises his arms defensively, swaying his body to lessen the force of the blows and hitting back at every opportunity.

  He steps back, being careful not to get pinned against the cage and quickly dodges out of the way when the Shark attempts a high kick that would have hit Zac in the shoulder had it landed. Zac takes the chance to hit out, punching Great White in the back of the thigh as he moves around him, landing an elbow in the sharks back before planting his foot on his arse and kicking out.