Worth the Fight (21 page)

Again in round two
it’s Nico who comes out blazing.  He strikes fast and furious and lands a series of kicks which almost knocks Trevor to the ground, but his opponent somehow remains on his feet.  Trevor regains his footing and takes aim at Nico, with a windup and punch that Nico manages to avoid by weaving, leaving Trevor plunging forward with the sheer momentum of the hit that never lands.  Nico sees an opportunity and seizes it, pounding brutally on the man’s back before he has time to recover from his missed punch.  It’s all too much, too fast, and Trevor falls forward, landing first on his knees, before both arms go wide and he plummets face first into the mat below.  For no more than a split second, he lays still on the ground.   But that’s all it takes. I watch as something passes over Nico’s face and everything changes.

Nico
just stands there, blankly staring at his opponent, even as Trevor recovers, taking his time to get up, wobbling to his feet before regaining his footing.    It’s as if he’s quit the fight, except there’s still more than two minutes on the clock until the end of the round. But even though Nico might have thrown in the towel, his opponent sees it as an opportunity.  He hits Nico with a left, then a quick right.  The second punch landing so hard that I watch in slow motion as Nico’s head swings to the side and blood splatters from his nose all over the shiny grey canvas below. 

I’m watching in horror as Nico is pummeled, each series of blows taking my breath away.  He’s not even protecting himself, he’s just standing there and taking it, like it’s his punishment and he needs to be man enough to
accept it.  Preach is screaming like a madman from the sideline, trying to snap Nico out of it, but it’s as if he doesn’t even hear him.  I wince at each strike, silently begging for the ref to stop the fight.  I don’t know the rules, but this can’t be legal.  Clearly, the ref sees that Nico has checked out and being in the cage is dangerous to a man that won’t even protect himself.  But they let the fight go on and on, and it’s the longest two minutes of my entire life.

By the time the bell sounds at the end of the round, Nico is a bloody mess and I want to die.  I feel helpless and
I want to run into the cage and grab him and hold him tight against me and tell him everything is going to be okay.  Only I can’t. 

The crowd doesn’t know what to make of things either.  The once frenzied chant of
Nico! Nico!
has died out and even Vinny and Max are eerily silent in their seats.  It’s as if they’ve all accepted the path that Nico has chosen…but I can’t.  I won’t.  I refuse. 

The final round starts off almost the same as the last one ended, with Nico getting his face pummeled and him doing little to change things.  I don’t understand why everyone is so quiet.  His b
rothers are all sitting and his mother sits silently on the edge of her chair, looking pale, her face turned away from the fight.  She can’t even bear to watch.

I just can’t sit and quietly watch him go down without a fight.  So I don’t.  I get up on my chair and start screaming. 
Like a loon.  The people around me are staring, but I don’t care.  Screw them, they were all chanting his name when he was winning, but where are they now? After a few more punches that few men would be able to endure, let alone stand after, Trevor lunges and takes Nico down to the mat.  The two men wrestle around for a few seconds, and then Trevor emerges on top, Nico’s arm pinned behind his back, his head to the ground.

“Get up Nico
! God damn it, Get up!”  My screams are torn from my lungs, each word burning as it bleeds from me. I don’t know if he hears me yelling, but somehow I doubt it since Preach is closer and can’t seem to get his attention.  But then something happens. Nico lifts his head from the mat, his arm still pinned behind his back, and I could swear, for just a split second, he looks right at me. 

There’s less than a minute left in the match, but we both know that so much can change in a single minute.  The course of an entire life can be redirected, a man can cho
ose to live, a man can die unexpectedly.  Nothing is over until you call it quits or you take your last breath. 

I have no idea how Nico gets
himself out of the hold that Trevor had him in without breaking his own arm, but less than two seconds have ticked from the clock and Nico is back on his feet and there’s a fire in his eyes.  Trevor gets back up and readies himself, expecting to continue the fight, but it’s no longer a continuation, it’s suddenly a whole new fight.  Nico lands a blow to the ribs and his opponent staggers back three steps.  There’s no time for Trevor to recover, to regain his footing, before Nico lunges, taking him down to the mat.  And then Nico’s on top, landing blow after blow, each more heartbreaking than the next, even though it’s Nico I want to come out unscathed. 

There’s less than ten seconds on the clock when Nico backs off slightly, but his stubborn opponent lifts his head, trying
desperately to get back on his weary feet.  And then Nico winds up and strikes.  Hard.  The man’s head wobbles, seemingly unhinged from side to side, his eyes rolling back into his head before they both close.  I watch in slow motion as his head bounces up and down twice more before finally coming to rest lifelessly on the mat.

The arena goes silent.  There are twenty thousand people in one room, yet I can hear the paramedic
who rushed into the cage bark out orders and the ref instructs the men in suits watching from the sidelines that he’s calling the fight.  KO. 

They wave something under the unconscious
fighter’s nose and I see his head shake from side to side.  He’s awake and alive and there’s a collective sigh heard around the arena.  After a few minutes, Trevor gets up with assistance from his trainer and walks out of the cage.  But Nico is still standing there, staring at the place where Trevor once laid, even as the ref raises his arm in victory.  The crowd goes wild, but I see it in Nico’s face, there’s no cause for celebration. 

***

The whole way down to find Nico, I fret he may chase me away when I arrive at the locker room. I’m surprised to find a dozen people waiting in line outside his door.  Even more surprised to find as many already inside.  Photographers vie for photos of the new champion, but I can see he’s in no mood.  Two of the bikini bimbo’s from the entrance parade are trying to snuggle up on either side of him as pictures are snapped excitedly.  I know it’s all part of marketing, but my nerves are shot and I have no patience left.

“Don’t touch him.”  I warn as one of them goes to
lift her leg and wrap it around Nico’s side.  She stops and looks me up and down, smirking at my t-shirt, she probably thinks I’m some lonesome groupie, hoping to get lucky tonight.  That I’m no match for her open invitation to a sure thing. But I have no time or patience to pretend I care what she thinks.  Nico watches me closely as I take the few steps to close the distance between us.

“Let’s get out of here.” 
I’m relieved at Nico’s words.  If he hadn’t suggested leaving, I probably would have demanded it. 

There are too many people
to count yelling at Nico that he can’t leave when we walk out the door.  But neither one of us cares.

Elle

It’s been almost two days
now.  Nico hasn’t pushed me away like last time, but he may as well have, because he’s closed me out all the same…along with everyone else.  I’ve tried everything…just holding him, quietly talking, even cuddling up to him bare ass, still I get no response.  I’m starting to think Preach is right, he needs a doctor. 

It broke my heart the first night when he stared blankly at the ceiling.  He didn’t say it, but I knew why he couldn’t close his eyes.  I went through the same thing for years.  Instead of seeing black and calm, allowing yourself to drift into dreamland, you see that moment, the one frozen in time in your head.  And then you
’re afraid to close your eyes.   Afraid to sleep, afraid of the nightmares that you know will come.  Terrified to be forced to relive it all again in your head, because it will all seem so real. 

Yesterday I finally took the pills that Preach had been trying to
give me to push on him since the first night.  His body needs to rest, the physical injuries demand time to heal.  Nico may have been the victor, but his body took a relentless beating in those short minutes that he surrendered.  He’s swollen and cut and black and blue.  Everywhere.  I held ice to his injuries when he finally slept, rotating different places on his body every fifteen minutes for more than ten hours, until there was nothing cold left in the freezer to hold against him.  Those pills work, he didn’t once move…not from the ice held against him or from my touch. 

But today
it’s gotten worse.  A sick, twisted part of me almost wishes that he was still drugged and sleeping.  At least then I could pretend that everything was normal and he was just recovering from the fight.  Today he’s no longer sleepy or withdrawn, he’s up and around and he wants nothing to do with me.  He won’t tell me to leave, but he doesn’t have to.  His body said it when I touched him this morning and he flinched.  I should be more understanding of what he’s going through, but his innate reaction tore through me, shredding my heart in pieces.

I don’t want to push him, but I can’t help myself.  I’m selfish, hating the feeling in my
gut, I need to know he’s okay.  That
we’ll
be okay.  I have no idea if it will work, but I can’t stay here anymore just waiting for him to push me further away.  He doesn’t acknowledge it when I pack up my bag, I wish his desire for me to stay was stronger.  That it would be enough to make him snap out of it as he watches me walk out the door.  But instead, he just nods when I tell him I’m going home.  I kiss him goodbye on the lips softly, even though he doesn’t respond.  I want to feel that beautiful mouth on mine one last time before I go, knowing it could be the last after what I’m about to do.

***

Even though I took a few days off, I go straight to the office from Nico’s to talk to Regina, hoping she will support my decision.  Lawrence is at the desk when I walk in, and he’s smiling.  He probably thinks we’ve been out celebrating.  His face falls as I get closer.  I’m a mess and I can’t even begin to try to hide it. 

“Can you take an early lunch?”  Regina is standing to go with me before I finish the question.  Lawrence doesn’t balk when I tell him I need the rest of the week off.  I’ve hardly taken any time since I started and I work twice the amount of hours as most. 

Lawrence stops me as I turn to leave with Regina.  “Take care of yourself.  And keep this one for the rest of the day.  I’ll get the old ball and chain to come over and work reception.  She’s been bugging me to spend more time with her anyway…maybe this will count toward my new quota.”  He tries to make light of his concern for me, but it’s written on his face clear as day.  Surprising him, I reach up and kiss his cheek before Regina and I take off from the office.

***

It’s true, you really can find anything with Google, and a little determination these days.  As soon as I find what I need, I call and set a time to see him the next day.  I wish it was today, but it will have to do.  Regina stays with me the rest of the night, pretending to fall asleep on my couch, but I know she never planned to leave from the minute she caught sight of me today. 

***
 

Nico

It’s been days since I saw her.  At least I think it has.  One day just rolls into the next when you lie around and wallow in your own self-pity.  She hasn’t called since she left and I don’t blame her. 

Fucking Preach had me believing that the f
ight would heal me, like getting back in the cage would make me feel whole again, normal.  Things were starting to go good for the first time in a long time before I went back.  It was my decision, but I’ll never forgive Preach for telling me it was right. 

I should have just finished what I started, let him pummel me until I was out.  But then I started to lift myself from the mat, ready to receive my final penance, when I caught sight of her.  It was only
a second, but that was all it took.  Standing on her chair, screaming and cheering, wearing my face on her t-shirt.  I thought it was a sign.  A sign that Preach was right and I needed to take back what was mine, to move forward with my life.  So I did it.  I stood over the brother of the man I killed…the man who looks just like him, and struck another blow.  And he didn’t move.  His head rattled around in slow motion and I watched as he bounced lifelessly from the mat.  I thought I’d killed.  Again. 

Fucking Preach. 
Push through, take back your life and move on,
is what he said.  Look where it got me.  I’ve showed the first person that I thought understood me in a long time my true colors.  I’m a monster.  I don’t blame her for leaving me.

T
he bell sounds again from downstairs.  I know it’s Preach, he’s the only one that refuses to god damn listen and leave me alone.  So help me God, I may not be able to hold back from beating the shit out of the old guy this time.  He’s tried my patience and it won’t take much to shell out the punishment he deserves.  The bastard should be miserable too.

I send the elevator down and wait patiently as it comes back up.  I’m done with him and he’s
gonna know it.  Practically ripping the lift gate off the hinges, I throw it open, ready to pounce on Preach.  “What the fuck!” 

The confused visitor takes a step back, throwing his hands up in surrender.  For a second, I’m confused, almost not recognizing the man
retreating in my elevator car fully dressed.

“Wooo, man.  If it’s not a good time, I’ll split.”

I just stand there, not knowing what to say or do.  I’m a little shell-shocked to see him.  His face relaxes a little as my anger is replaced by confusion.

“You gonna invite me
in, or kick my ass again?”  Trevor smiles.  His face is bruised and cut, but he’s standing there, inside my elevator, looking better than I do.

I finally step aside,
motioning silently for him to enter.  Trevor walks in and whistles approvingly.  “Nice space.”  I watch as he looks around, his eyes falling to the championship belt that I haven’t touched since Preach threw it at me two days ago.  It’s sitting on the floor in the living room.

Trevor
laughs, “If that was my belt, I’d still be wearing it.  Bet that thing can land allota good tits and ass.”

I’m not laughing with him when he turns his attention on me, understanding spreading across his face as he speaks.  “That’s right, you don’t need any of that shit.  That little lawyer of yours is hot as hell, but sure is a handful.  She could sell ice to an eskimo.”  He shakes his head as if he’s reflecting.

My fists clench at my sides at the mention of Elle.  Who does this clown think he is walking into my house and talking shit about my girl?  Like a good fighter, he reads my face and knows there’s trouble coming.  Throwing his hands up again in mock surrender, he chirps out, “Take it easy man, I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.  She’s a great lady.”

“What do you know about Elle?”  Throwing your hands up isn’t going to make me stop when you talk about
Elle, but it will make it easier for me to rip your eyes from the socket so you never check her out again.

“She came to see me, man. 
I was a perfect gentleman, calm down.  I’m not stupid enough to risk a beat down twice from you.” 

I force myself to relax my balled
fists.  “Look, I’m lost on what you’re talking about.  You wanna help me out here?”

Trevor
nods.  “Your lady came to see me.  Filled me in that you’re beating yourself up over our fight.”  He stops and takes a deep breath.  “And your fight with my brother.” 

He’s got my attention now.  Trevor
looks into my eyes, man to man when he continues.  “My brother wasn’t your fault.  We don’t blame you.  It could have been any fighter in there.  Could have happened to any one of us, even me.  His head wasn’t right.  Doctors said it was a slow bleed and could have gone off at any time.”

I’m listening to the words, but can’t believe the
y’re being spoken.  “If I don’t blame you, why are you still blaming yourself?”  I’ve no answer for his question either.

“Listen, man.  Deep down
, I knew I didn’t have a shot with you either.  But the fight was good for me, gave me the exposure I needed to make a name for myself.  You know the grudge crap was all to sell tickets.”  He walks towards the open elevator, putting his hand on my shoulder as he passes.

Trevor
lifts the gate and it looks like he’s going to walk out, but then he turns back to me.  “Frankie wouldn’t want you carrying this around with you.  He thought you were the shit.  Used to watch you on T.V. all the time, and try to memorize your moves.  He’d want you to get your lazy ass back in the cage and show ‘em how it’s done.”  He lifts a hand, offering me a wave, and takes a step into the waiting elevator car.  “And if that doesn’t get your head out of your ass, I’m giving you twenty-four hours to go after the lawyer.  If she isn’t smiling pretty by then, I’m calling fair game for me trying my hand at putting it back on her face.”  He slams the gate down, securing the latch.  Smart man, putting steel between us after the last comment.