Authors: Skyla Madi
“If I knew he’d die now I would have put off my service just to spend a little more time with him. That’s all Mom and Dad want, you know. They want time, they want love—the kind of love we gave them as kids.”
I’ve never thought of it that way. When Mom and Dad pestered me about moving back in I was always so abrupt, so rude. All they wanted was time together. If I visited regularly, maybe that would have been enough. I can hear Chase sniffle and I know how much he hates to cry in front of people so I stand up and walk back inside, my chest still heavy with his words.
In my room, I shed my dress, kick off my shoes and slide into bed. I’m all cried out. I couldn’t cry even if I stubbed my toe on a brick. Today, we buried our father. It was horrible, but it brought closure. Everything else, I’ll sort out tomorrow. Mom, Chase and I need to work on repairing our family. It’ll take a while, but I’m certain we’ll pull through.
Chapter Nineteen
It’s exactly seven days after I last saw Seth. Mom and Chase went to bed half an hour ago. I pull on the desk, rolling myself as close to the computer screen as I can get. I open the web browser and type ‘Seth vs. Don Las Vegas’ into the search engine. It immediately takes me to the MMAC website and the live stream to the fight. The building they’re fighting in is huge, easily housing tens of thousands of people. The camera scans over the roaring crowd before showing a highlight reel of other fights from earlier tonight. When it’s finished, it shows a recap of the weigh in between Seth and Don. Sponsors line the back wall as do promo girls, wearing red short shorts and bikinis. I listen carefully to the commentators as they recap the guidelines of the tournament.
“It’s an eight man fighting format. The last man standing receives one hundred thousand dollars, a contract with the MMAC and the title of Amateur Champion. Championship fight requires a professional weigh in. Neither fighter is able to exceed one hundred and ninety pounds.”
I tune the commentators out and watch the weigh in. Don goes first. He pulls of his shirt, exposing his creepy dragon tattoo, and hands it to his coach. Don steps onto the scale and he weighs one-ninety exactly. Surprising, considering the size of him. Darryl hold Seth’s t-shirt as he steps onto the scale—one-ninety-one. My pulse increases and I begin chewing my nails. What does it mean? Does it mean he’s disqualified? I see Don smirk and I want smack him through the screen.
Jackson hands Darryl a towel and the CEO of the MMAC helps Darryl cover Seth’s front as he slides his shorts off. Seth’s eyes lock onto the camera and his lips curl into a cocky smile. Heat tears through my body because I know it’s for me. The towel rides a little low and I can see the ‘v’ shape of Seth’s oblique’s. I’m smiling as another hot flush rolls through me and I squeeze my legs together. I notice the eyes of the girls behind him linger on his backside and they can’t keep the smiles off their faces either. I scowl at the screen, fighting the urge to growl ‘my precious’.
He steps back onto the scale and it doesn’t drop at all. I hear the commentators say Seth has one hour to cut one pound. Is that even possible? He steps back into his shorts and the towel is dropped. The stream flicks to Seth’s second weigh in. The towel comes out and his shorts drop. When he steps back onto the scale, he’s the perfect weight for the fight. Seth and Don stand close to each other, fists up as people take the pictures. When I saw this in the past, Dad always told me it’s just fun and they don’t actually hate each other, but I’m watching Don and Seth and I see the hate. I feel it.
The picture takes us back to the empty ring and I hear Don’s intro song. It’s a song I’ve never heard before and I’m ninety percent sure it’s in German. The cameras’ follow him from his runway, all the way to the ring. There’s a gleam of cockiness in his eyes. He’s exactly where he wants to be. God knows how long he’s wanted to fight Seth without the restrictions and now he can. Don enters the ring and stands in his corner. He offers no reaction to the crowd and they love it. The commentators talk about Don’s boxing background and his eight to zero fight stats, claiming he’s undefeated. I hate every second the camera lingers on his angry face.
My mood instantly brightens when I hear Seth’s intro song. A little box comes up on the side of the screen telling me the song is ‘We own it’ by Wiz Khalifa’. I make a mental note purchase it later. It’s easily my favorite song now. The camera follows Seth closely, even showing snippets of Darryl and Jackson behind him. Their faces are hard—determined.
Once in the ring, Seth’s music is cut off and I realize I’ve been holding my breath. As the announcer talks, Seth’s hands clench into fists. They unclench and then clench again. He bounces back and forth on the balls of his feet a few times before tilting his head to the ceiling—eyes closed. His chest falls as he blows out a long, slow breath. The referee calls both the boys to the middle of the ring. He demands a good, clean fight and sends them back to their corner. With a clap of his hands, the fight begins.
Seth lets Don come at him first, no doubt trying to gauge his tempo, favored hand, and which foot he likes to put forward first. Don swings at Seth, but he dodges it by leaning back quickly. As Don pulls his arm back, Seth shoots forward smacking him with an open palm across his left temple. Don shakes his head and the commentators’ love that Seth is playing with his competitor. One of the commentators even calls him ‘suicidal; for trying to piss off Don Russell. I can see Don’s jaw working furiously as he relentlessly throws punches at Seth. Seth left hand is up, blocking whatever blows Don is throwing, while his right fist jabs outwards, punching him in the stomach. Don swings his leg around to kick Seth’s legs out from under him, but Seth blocks the leg with his own, sending a killer hook straight to Don’s jaw. It connects and snaps Don’s face to the side. I flinch at the power in his punch and I almost leap out of my seat, unable to contain my excitement. Don stumbles backward, dazed and Seth follows the punch with a foot into his ribs. Don recovers quickly and launches at Seth, landing a good, strong blow to the side of his head. My hands fly up to cover my mouth as Don wraps his arms around Seth’s chest and shoulders, driving him backwards and into the cage. Don traps Seth and let’s his fists fly. Repeatedly, they smack Seth in the head again and again. Awful sounds coat me with thick goosebumps.
“No!” I rasp, trying to keep my voice down so I don’t wake Mom. Each time Don’s fists connect I cringe. I can hear the chilling sound of bone cracking against flesh, and the hairs on my head tingle in fear. I see Jackson below Seth, yelling at him and Seth stomps the balls of his feet down onto Don’s foot, forcing him to lose footing. Seth shoves Don back and goes low, wrapping his arms around Don’s legs and taking him down. He wastes no time in diving on Don. His thick thigh muscles straddled Don’s mid section and he starts raining blows to his head and face. Don’s arms come up to shield his face from the pounding, so Seth leans back to slam into Don’s ribs. I can see sweat run down Seth’s back and his chest heaving heavily. Don flicks his hips, throwing Seth off of him just as the commentators swore the referee was going to end the fight. As Don attempts to roll away, Seth catches his arm and wrap his legs around Don, straightening out his arm.
“Oh no!” A commentator shouts, startling me. “Seth has Don in an arm bar.” Seth pulls down hard and Don’s face strains. He doesn’t want to give up. The referee gets in Don’s face, talking to him. Every few minutes Don shakes his head, refusing to tap out. Seth adjusts his position and pulls even harder. Don can’t keep his eyes open. He’s in too much pain and suddenly I feel sorry for him. There’s a sardonic smile on Seth’s face, he knows he’s got it. All he has to do is apply a little more pressure and Don’s arm will snap, but he wants Don to submit to him. He wants Don to tap out and be humiliated. I close my eyes as the camera zooms in on the awkward shape of Don’s arm. The crowd is going nuts, begging for Seth to snap it. As I open my eyes, I witness Don’s palm slap the floor of the ring and I leap out of my chair. Seth did it! He beat Don. Dancing around my living room after a fight is not something I’ll ever admit to doing, but I do it. I do it out of happiness, out of pride, hell, I even do it out of arousal because I can’t possibly sit down without squirming. New waves of screams tear from the crowd, forcing my attention back to the screen. The teams are in the ring, separating the two fighters. They’re yelling at each other, dying to go another round with each other. Don is pissed, his face hot red. Seth smiles at Don and it pisses him off even more. Security flies into the ring to help Don’s team suppress him. I can’t hear anything over the roar of the crowd or the annoying voices of the commentators and I nervously chew on my nails. Seth watches with his hands on his hips as they drag Don from the ring. When his gone, the referee raises Seth’s hand and the crowd loses their minds. They scream, shout, chant, clap their hands and stomp their feet. Energy flows through me as the CEO of the MMAC steps into the ring. The announcer hands him a microphone and he addresses the crowd. My eyes are on Seth, not paying attention to a single word the CEO is saying. Seth is smiling modestly so I know it has something to do with his impressive skills. The CEO hands Seth a framed contract and they take photos. The commentators go over highlights of the fight and I close the browser and shut off the monitor with a huge smile on my face.
Seth achieved his dream. He went for it and he succeeded. It leaves me thinking about my dream, the dream of becoming a romance author. The last few months have definitely sidetracked me from what I want to do. At least now I have enough material to write that happy ever after I’ve been stuck on. Maybe managing the gym will give me time to write on the side? If not, I’ll have to make time. You can’t reach your dream unless you try, right?
***
I sit by my dad’s fresh grave, silent tears rolling down my cheeks. The sun is setting over the port and its orange-red hue coats everything in a pretty pink light. I’ve been sitting here for hours, dreading the thought of going back home. Chase left this morning to go back to Pakistan. He promised to get more Skype time, which made his departure more bearable and Mom isn’t going to be home either. She decided to spend a little alone time in a hideaway cabin for two nights. Apparently, she and Dad stayed there all the time. I don’t know how I’m going to handle being in the house by myself. I haven’t been truly alone with my thoughts yet. There was always someone lingering around the place, but for the next two days I’m on my own.
I climb to my feet and turn from Dad’s tombstone. I want to avoid being in the cemetery alone at night so I walk the mile to my car and drive away. When I get home, there are no cars in the driveway and I pull in, parking right in front of the garage. I inhale deeply, mentally preparing myself and climb out of the car. I walk over to the small, white gate and my fingers linger on the latch. I can’t stay here by myself. Not tonight. The gate squeaks as I let it go and turn back to my car. I’ll stay at my apartment.
“You’re not going to leave me here by myself, are you?”
Seth’s voice startles me, and I whirl back to face the house. A movement over by the tree catches my eye and there he is, leaning against the oak tree in the front yard. His hair is in wilder disarray than normal, giving him a devastating sex appeal as it juts out roughly above his forehead. His arms are folded across his chest, and the short sleeves of his black shirt cling tightly to him, accentuating the strong, muscled ridges of his bare forearms. He looks positively delicious and nipples harden against my lace bra as my gaze settles on his mouth. His full lips are curved into a little cocky smile, like he knows I’m craving him. I glance over my shoulders. I can’t see his car anywhere.
“How?”
“I parked around the corner.”
Forgetting the latch, I jump the gate and run to him. He opens his arms and I fit right in, wrapping my legs around his waist and smashing my lips against his. Seth squeezes me against him with devastating pressure, but I don’t dare complain. I don’t want him to let go, ever. I pull my lips away, panting breathlessly. “I had no idea you were going to be back today.”
“It was painful purposefully avoiding your calls, but I wanted to surprise you.”
I laugh. “Mission accomplished.”
I’m happy—genuinely happy. If anyone can wash away my anguish and doubts, it’s Seth. It’s always Seth. I slide off of him and tug on his hand. He follows me onto the porch and I pull the key from the back pocket of my jeans. I unlock the door and pull him inside. I flick on the living room lights and lock the door behind him.
“Is your Mom—”
“She’s not home.” I cut in rather eagerly. I pull him up the hallway and into my old room. I switch on the light and Seth almost cringes.
“It’s so pink.”
“I know. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”
Seth grips my hips in a firm and unbreakable grasp, catching me off guard. A thrill shoots down my spine at his touch. A second later, he’s pushing me backward onto the bed. I land on my elbows, sliding myself upwards as he climbs on top of me. His body pins mine tightly against the bed. I moan as his full lips crash to mine and his tongue flicks out to glide against my bottom lip. His fingers move steadily underneath my shirt, grazing the delicate skin of my sides. Strangely, his finger glides over a specific spot on my ribs and I flinch. Pulling away from his mouth I giggle and he smiles down at me.