This Time Around (Maybe) (24 page)

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Authors: Chantal Fernando

BOOK: This Time Around (Maybe)
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Life had effectively pulled the rug, the flooring, and the fucking planet from under my feet. I didn’t want to be here.

But as I grumbled and shed a tear or two on the couch, hugging my very reason for existence, she swore and cursed me. 

She reminded me that I may be in a bad place, but she needed me. That life goes on, solutions come, and tragedies happen. I couldn’t change the future either moping on the settee, or dressing up like a hooker and coming out with her.

So, as much as I wished I had a hacksaw in my cleavage so I could threaten her to take me home to Clara, I didn’t.

“Corkscrew, huh? What discipline?” The bouncer crossed his arms, raking his eyes over me. I’d lost weight from the stress of the last few weeks, but I felt like a stuffed sausage in this slinky dress.

My stomach twisted as I plucked the loaned attire that clung to me like scales. A web of lace covered my shoulders, but it couldn’t hide the
sulttiness. My entire figure was on show, complete with perky nipples from the chill in the evening air.

Damn Clue and her fetishes for
blingy, completely impractical clothing. I always seemed to be forced to wear the worst one.

She said I was too serious. Too focused. Too obsessed with creating a future where nothing bad from the past could find us.

And she was right.

Where she was a rainbow, I was the cloud. I never meant to turn into a weeping, rain-filled cloud. Life browbeat me into it until I gave up on colour and sacrificed happiness for survival.

Clara.

Tears pricked the back of my eyes again and I swallowed hard.

“Muay Thai,” Clue answered, her black almond eyes flashing with pride. Her latest accusation, who I’d only met once, had successfully swept my commitment-phobic friend off her feet.

I didn’t even know his real name. And Corkscrew, what the hell title was that?

“Ah, great sport.” The bouncer relaxed a little, looking part gargoyle himself. “What’s the password then, sugar tits?”

My mouth pursed. I couldn’t stop the flash of fire; protective instincts rose to swell firmly in my chest. I’d always looked after everyone I came into contact with. I couldn’t decide if it was a curse or a blessing to feel compassion and suffer such courage to defend another, but now the familiar fight built in me to protect Clue.

“Did you just call her
sugar
tits?” I’d never been one to stand by while another was ridiculed, embarrassed, or taken advantage of. I liked to think it was a strong character trait, but life had made it into yet another flaw.

He chuckled. “Well she has nice tits and she looks as sweet as sugar, so yeah. I did.” His eyes narrowed. “You got a problem with that?”

Don’t do it, Zel.

Clue patted my forearm and I forced the retaliation from my tongue. My hands clenched but I stayed silent. Giving him a verbal lashing wouldn’t help us get into this illegal club for Clue to see her man candy.

Dismissing me, the bouncer looked back at Clue. “Spit out the code or leave. I don’t have time for this.”

Clue cocked her hip, accenting the fluidity of her amazing figure. Once again, I had a small flash of awe, taking in Clue’s perfection. Dressed in an equally slutty dress she sparkled with red sequins. Looking part Geisha, part ninja warrior, Clue was one word: stunning.

She’d been the result of an illicit affair between a Chinese diplomat and a Thai prostitute. Born out of wedlock, she’d been thrown away like rubbish when she was just two weeks old.

We hadn’t met until three years ago when I saved her from being raped and mutilated in a rural Sydney suburb.
She knew my beginnings weren’t as perfect as I told people, but she didn’t know the whole truth either.

No one did.

“Thou may draw blood but never draw life,” Clue whispered, layering her husky voice with a heavy dose of allure.

Even if the password had been completely wrong, the bouncer was so spellbound he would’ve let us in. Clue had magical powers over men.

“Well, what do you know? You’re in.” He swung the door wide, spilling warm light into the darkness of the night. “Head down to the end, then to the left. The main arena is there. Don’t go into the other rooms unless invited.”

Clue smiled and brushed past him, deliberately letting him gawk down her cleavage. “Thanks so much.”

He nodded dumbly, letting me sneak past without fanfare.

My heart raced, taking in the ridiculous wide corridor. The heavy doors latched behind us and all I wanted to do was run home to her.

You left her alone. With strangers. For this.

For this? This decadence, this richness, this mockery of everything that I needed in order to save her life. Instead of tears, anger filled me.

Whoever owned this monstrosity had so much more than they deserved. If only life had been kind enough to give me a way out. Give me a way to save her.

“Clue. I’ve had enough. I’m sorry, but I’m leaving.”

Clue spun again, grabbing my hands. “You’re not, Zel. And I’ll tell you why.”

My temper rose further. It wasn’t often that I got angry but when I did… not even an atomic bomb could match me.

Her thumb caressed my knuckles, trying to calm me but riling me up even more. “You’re not going home. Mrs. Berry will take great care of her. You need to see that life hasn’t ended outside our apartment. You need to remember why you fought so hard to get to where you are.” Her voice softened. “I’m not only losing someone I care deeply for but my bestfriend, too. You can’t die with her, Zelly. I won’t let you.”

The fucking tears that seemed to be a constant companion these days, shot up my spine in a tingling wake. I squeezed my eyes to stop them from spilling.

Clue gathered me into her arms, whispering in my ear. “You’ll find a way. I swear. I know in my bones you’ll save her. Just like you saved me. But you have to get out into the world to find a solution. You won’t find it hidden in the cereal box in a dingy flat you haven’t left in weeks.”

I shoved her back. “I couldn’t care less about the world. It took everything from me. And now it’s taking Clara, too.”

Clue tensed. “Remember who you are. You’re a fighter. You didn’t overcome your past to give up now.”

“My daughter is dying and you think I’m giving up?” My voice wobbled and I stormed forward. I couldn’t have this conversation anymore. Clue had valid points which just made me hate my self-pity and sadness all the more.

I couldn’t rewind to the old Hazel. The twenty-four year old woman who’d been on the cusp of happiness. I’d had a great job—legal and law-abiding. I’d been healthy and content. And I’d had a daughter who I’d poured all my love and joy into; who made me a better human being.

You
have
a daughter. Not past tense. Not yet.

But Clue was right. I’d overcome so much already. I couldn’t give up. I wouldn’t lie down and let my daughter leave me—I had to find a cure and to do that I had to face the world and keep fighting till the end.

Bottling everything deep inside, I called over my shoulder. “You win, Clue. Let’s go.”

Her heels clicked on the stone work of the corridor, catching me up. Linking her fingers with mine, she murmured, “Tonight will give you the boost that you need. You’ll see.” Adding some bounce into her step, she added, “After all, we’re going to watch men beat each other bloody. If that doesn’t inspire you to get revenge and punch the world in its fucking face then I don’t know what will.”

I forced a small laugh, but she was right. In so many ways.

The corridor went on for ages, past huge swathes of material and massive nonsensical artwork of blizzards and forests, of darkness and wolfs, of a violent world. Sculptures made of bronze and iron guided us like centennials. A mix of modern art and intricate lifelike animals. All large, imposing, and entirely too real.

Grunting and panting came from behind one large door as we passed.

“I wonder what goes on in the private
zones? More fighting, or do you think the victor steals a woman from the crowd and makes mad passionate love to her?” Clue’s voice turned dreamy. “He’d be hot and sweaty and slippery with blood, but his kiss would make the girl forget. She’d let herself be consumed by the man who proved he was strong enough to protect her.”

This time I laughed with my heart and not just out of requirement. “You’re way too much of a romantic for these times, Clue. You should’ve been born six hundred years ago if you want men who kill and women who swoon.”

She grinned, showing perfect pearly teeth. “I
was
born six hundred years ago. That’s why I hanker after it so much.”

I rolled my eyes. Clue had two fascinations in life: men and past lives. She swore she’d lived countless times before, and as much as I liked to joke and pluck holes in her tales, I couldn’t ignore the fact that she knew things. Things she shouldn’t know for a thrown away child with no education.

“You’re an old soul too, Zel. I can tell. I haven’t figured out where you’re from, but I will.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her she was wrong. I acted old beyond my years because I’d had enough bad fortune to last me forever.

I squeezed her hand as we turned left at the end of the corridor and promptly slammed to a halt. “Holy mother of God where have you brought me?” Dropping her fingers, I moved forward, almost in a trance.

The double doors had been crafted from metal. One side depicted a fairy-tale. A young man, with his face away from the viewer, stood surrounded by piles of coins, sunshine, and young children. Fantastical turrets of a castle rested in the distance.

My heart hurt as I looked at the next door. If the other had been heaven, this would be hell.

The young man now faced the doors but his features were blank. No nose or eyes or mouth, just a smooth oval. Behind him wolves fought while lightning and storm clouds brewed. But what killed me was the children who’d been laughing in the other portrait were now in pieces, scattered on the ground in melting snow.

“Whoa, that’s a bit morbid,” Clue said, reaching out to touch a severed leg.

I snatched her hand back and pressed the other door to open it. I wanted away from this scene. It came too close to home.

Don’t think of your troubles. Tonight pretend to forget.

Troubles.

I could never forget about them. They were a noose around my neck. A guillotine waiting to fall.

The instant the door cracked open, noise assaulted us. A potent mix of fists hitting flesh, grunts of pain, lilts of feminine laughter, shouts of encouragement, and the smooth beats of music.

We entered a cavernous black room. Either a converted ballroom or a specially designed arena, it welcomed us with thick black velvet on the four story high walls. Lining the perimeter lived a grandstand sort of placement with black couches, la-Z-boys, and recliners. Each one had its own podium with side table and small lamp. Looking like fireflies in the dark.

“Oh, my,” Clue murmured as we stopped scanning the side of the room and focused on the main event.

Every apparatus of fighting existed in this space. A Mixed Marital Arts Cage, a boxing ring, a Muay Thai ring, mats for close combat, and bare floor for other barbaric blood sports. Each space was crowded with men either bloodied from a fight or bouncing on their feet ready to meet a new opponent. Water stations and medic booths rested between each arena.

A huge banner hung from the ceiling directly above all five fighting rings.

Fight with honour, fight with discipline, fight with vengeance.

 

“I think I died and went to man heaven,” Clue whispered, her almond eyes the widest I’d ever seen. Her cheeks flushed with colour as a man in the MMA cage took a hit to the jaw by a fighter glistening with sweat and blood.

The atmosphere in the room wasn’t feral or violent, though. It had an old-world class about it. An exclusivity. A richness.

There were so many fighters I had no idea how Clue would find the man she’d come to see.

The music changed tracks from sultry to pulsing. Not so loud to distract the fighters, but it added yet another element to this strange illegal club.

Arms suddenly slinked around Clue, dislodging me from her side. I blinked as a tall man with cropped black hair and ebony skin gathered her close. “You remembered the address and password. I’m impressed.” He nuzzled her throat, sending Clue into a flurry of lusty giggles.

My heart fluttered for her. I loved seeing her smile. I didn’t think I’d seen her so infatuated before. My eyes flickered between the two. Where Clue was an Asian beauty, this man was an African Adonis. If they ever made it to procreation, their children would be spectacular.

The thought of children just sent me wheeling back to Clara. Her pretty, eight year old face filled my mind. Her long hair, so similar to my own, and her dark brown eyes, made my heart weep knowing our time together was running out.

She looked nothing like her father which I thanked the universe for every day. She was mine. All mine.

Not for much longer.

The memory shattered me and I stumbled a little.

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