Torn - Part Three (The Torn Series) (9 page)

“Sure!” All the talk about family had reminded me of something else, though. “I feel like such a shit that I never asked about this earlier. How did the match with your brother go?”

“Didn’t happen.” He shook his head. “Surly cracked two of my ribs after you left the apartment back when… you know. Had to reschedule.”

“Oh. So is that what you texted me about?”

“Nope. Different fight.” He winked. “This one’s more underground than usual.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry. I’m gonna win.”

“I know you are. Just win in one piece, okay?”

“I can’t win if you starve me to death. Start chopping.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon cooking together. We stuck to lighter subjects after that - or at least we tried to. I told him a little bit about the family dinner, though I wasn’t interested in lingering on the subject. He still wasn’t on speaking terms with Surly. I knew that hurt him - I could see it on his face.

If I could come to forgive him, though, surely his best friend could do the same? Jen had made her own choice. Maybe keeping it secret from Surly had been wrong and they probably had some kind of silly bro code about sisters, but was it really that big of a deal?

I kept those thoughts to myself. Mallet didn’t seem to want to continue that discussion any more than I wanted to go on about my mother.

We were setting the table when he reached for a bottle of red wine that he’d left waiting on top of the refrigerator. I recoiled when I saw it and exclaimed, “No!”

“No?” He froze where he was and looked at the bottle. “What’s wrong with it?”

“I…” I didn’t want him to think that I was an alcoholic, that I had a problem that he needed to worry about, but how could I explain? Still, I’d promised honesty. “I’m taking a booze break.”

He grinned, though he still looked confused. “A booze break?”

“My sister… well, most of my family, really… there’s a lot of drinking problems. And I didn’t like the direction I was heading in. I know you were a little concerned, too.” He nodded. “So, four months was the suggestion. A full break for four months, and then…” I shrugged. “And then whatever.”

He put the bottle down on the table and pulled me in for a tight hug. “Say something,” I said, squeezing him back. “I’m afraid you think I’m crazy.”

“Not at all,” he said, stepping back. “That must have been a hard decision. I’ve seen too many people live in denial and just keep sinking. Sometimes until it’s too late.”

“Well, my sister helped. And you.” I poked his ribs. “You always wanted me to slow down.”

“I just wanted you to be careful, I never wanted to tell you what to do.”

I stepped back, though I could have gone on hugging him all evening. “This is nice.”

“What is?” He put the bottle back where he’d found it in the kitchen and returned with the vegetables.

“Cooking together. Talking like this. It’s almost like we’re proper adults or something.”

He put a hand over his heart and choked. “Fuck that. I’d have to quit fighting to be a proper anything.”

“And I’d have to fix my hair.”

We set the table together, and when Lockett arrived home, he laughed at us. “You two look like a real couple,” he said, blurting it out as if he couldn’t hold it back.

Mallet and I exchanged a look. What was a “real couple,” anyway?

“Well we ain’t fake,” Mallet retorted. “We aren’t ghosts. This food isn’t a figment of your imagination.”

“Thank God, it smells great.”

My second Thanksgiving was ten times better than the first. No fights, no tension, just food and laughter. Lockett’s presence lightened the mood. He had four brothers and nothing but hilarious stories about all of them. It was much more fun to hear him talk about them than to exchange our own tales of familial unhappiness.

Maybe this could be a new sort of family
, I thought as I looked between them. Lockett had finally broken into the wine and they shared the bottle between them while they talked about their upcoming fights. With Mallet as my boyfriend - and dammit, I was going to start thinking of him as my boyfriend - and with Lockett as our close friend, how many other people did I really need in my life? My family and their issues felt like a distant thing, despite the fact that I’d seen them that very morning.

I only wished that my sister could have been there and shared the mini-holiday.
Soon
. I eyed Lockett, and I thought about all the other fighters that I’d met, all the guys -
single
guys - that these two knew. Maybe when Katherine visited, I could even find her a reason to stick around.

○●○●○●○●○

Stomach full and heart happy, I followed Mallet into his bedroom and wondered if I would fall into a food coma before I could even kiss him goodnight.

“No pressure if you don’t want to stay over,” he said, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Maybe we ought to call this a ‘first date’ if this was starting fresh. It might be too soon for a sleepover.” He winked.

“I don’t remember waiting very long the first time around,” I said.

“So we should do things differently.” I quirked an eyebrow. “We should wait a bit,” he explained.

Oh
. I tried to hide the disappointment on my face. I patted my stomach and said, “You may have to roll me into a cab to get me out of here, but okay.”

“Stay.” He took my hands and pulled me to him. “I just mean let’s wait a bit until we fuck again. Let’s not rush it.”

“Crude.” I let him pull me close. He wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his forehead against my chest. I ran my fingers through his hair, just savoring his warmth, thrilled to finally be together, really together. He did have a point. It wasn’t so much the waiting itself that was important, it was the fact that we were trying to do things differently and not repeat our past mistakes. As much as I wanted to pounce on him and tear off his clothes, that was far more important. “Okay,” I said, “Let’s wait. We did sort of rush things before.”

“We did a lot of things wrong before,” he said.

“But we’re not going to dwell on it,” I cut him off. “No more.”

“No more,” he agreed. He reached up and drew my head down to his to plant a soft kiss on my lips. Then another kiss, less soft, more hungry. His tongue pressed its way between my lips, sliding against mine, the sensual touch making my toes curl. I moaned softly and he pulled away.

“Fuck, Riley, you get me hard so fast.”

“Dirty mouth,” I said, running my thumb over his lips. He kissed it. “You make me hot, too. But!” I stepped back. “We just agreed to wait.” I shot him a mischievous grin and turned rummage through my luggage. “Which means if I’m staying the night I’m going to have to wear some serious winter pajamas to cool you down.”

I pulled a pair of long flannel pants from my bag, followed by a loose black t-shirt. “This’ll do it. I’ll be about as attractive as a grandma.”

“You’ll still look sexy,” he said, “You’d turn me on if you wore granny panties and an Amish dress.”

“I guess you’d better turn around while I get changed, then.”

He groaned and turned his back. “To change the subject before I get some serious blue balls, you’re definitely cool with coming to that fight, yeah?”

“Of course,” I said. It wasn’t like him to double-check. He sounded unsure. “Why? Should I not? Is everything okay?”

“It’s a rougher crowd than usual, I should warn you. And Surly will be there.”

There it was. He needed me to have his back in case he faced his best friend. He needed someone in his corner for his other struggle - the one that couldn’t be solved in the ring.

And he wanted that person to be me.

I had to kiss him again. Despite our agreement, despite his declaration about his blueing balls, I had to kiss him. His body tensed with the effort of not pulling me into the bed for more.

“I’ll be there,” I said, a touch breathless. I touched his cheek. “I’m here for you.”

He cleared his throat.
Great, now I made it awkward
. I meant it, though, and I thought he needed to hear it. He looked away for a moment before forcing a smile. “Want to watch a movie? I’ll never get to sleep like this.” He gestured at his crotch.

I laughed. Some things about him would never change. “Sure,” I said, “Something funny.”

“Whatever you like.”

CHAPTER 10

I bounced on my toes, full of nervous energy as the crowd surged around and behind me. They were jockeying for a spot closer to the cage.

I was already right along the edge of the rail that surrounded it - a front row seat, though we were all standing. Mallet had secured the spot before heading “backstage,” as it were. It was really just a corner blocked off by curtains and barriers.

He wasn’t kidding about this being “underground.” When I’d attended my first fight with Jen and Robin I’d barely paid attention to our surroundings. I was too focused on getting them to like me and on keeping Tyler happy.

Now, though, I knew that there was no sign out front. There was nothing but a lone bouncer to indicate that anything was happening inside at all.

I knew that there was betting going on, right out in the open. I’d seen the money changing hands.

I knew this was a shady crowd. I knew there were other illegal things going on. But it never occurred to me that there would be any trouble. Mallet assured me that I would be safe, security would be keeping an eye on me as long as I stayed where I was.

But who would be looking out for him? I wished he would have let me backstage with him. “Girlfriends ain’t allowed,” he’d said.

Girlfriend
.

The dim lighting illuminating the cage flickered. I hadn’t seen any cage fights before, except when Mallet showed me videos online. It seemed dangerous. Primal. Like we were setting animals against each other.

The noise and the press of the crowd wasn’t much different than being at a rock concert. They crushed together behind me as the first two fighters appeared, demanding blood.

I watched the first match with interest, even cheering along with the fans despite not having a favorite of the two fighters. After spending so much time with Mallet and seeing a few fights I was finally starting to get it. I knew what a hold was; I knew a grapple when I saw one.

More than anything I’d come to appreciate the athleticism. These guys were seriously dedicated and it showed, both in their bodies and in their movements. Muscles cut from stone, not an ounce of fat to be seen, high kicks that could knock heads off, speed that was hard to track - they were modern-day gladiators without the sand and swords.

The match ended in the second round with a hold that left one of the men unconscious for just a moment. Both of them were bleeding at that point - one from a broken nose, the other from a busted lip.

Mallet was right - this was a little more serious than usual, it seemed. Those men seemed pretty battered.

Surly’s match was next. He seemed to be a crowd favorite based on the mad cheering when he walked into the cage.

He was followed by a blond fellow just a hair shorter than him. I wondered if Mallet would watch and cheer him on. Maybe he was too busy preparing for his own match.

If Surly saw me, he gave no sign. The match started too quickly anyway - they’d barely separated into their corners when the bell rang.

Surly and the blond man - announced as Carrick - launched themselves at each other in a flurry of limbs. Surly went in low, just like Mallet said he tended to do. He absorbed Carrick’s blows with his shoulders as he went for the man’s ribs and stomach, throwing his full weight behind his punches as he attempted to bowl the man over.

Carrick dodged away. Surly’s dark eyes flashed with an animal rage, barely contained. Teeth bared, he hurled himself at his opponent again.

It unbalanced Carrick. Hell, the look frightened me and I wasn’t even in the cage with him. I shouted Surly’s name with the crowd as he dodged Carrick’s wild swing and grabbed the man around his shoulders. He pulled him down as he drove his knee up, slamming his leg into the blond fighter’s gut once, twice, then shoved him back against the bars. The metal cage rattled with the impact, and Carrick used it to hold himself up. Out of breath, he aimed a weak kick at Surly to keep the big man back and buy himself a moment.