FIGHTING FOR LOVE
By Naomi Niles
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Naomi Niles
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Chapter One
Talen
I could hear the clash of sound echo all around me. It felt like a war zone, a moment of contained chaos that would break the moment I made contact. Rhesus Carrow looked like a stone gargoyle, an indomitable, colossal of a man with hands of steel. His eyes were so dark I could barely make out his pupils. That was better – it was easier to think of him as a machine rather than a man.
The ring seemed to shrink as we circled one another, waiting for the sound that would spur us into action. I wanted to move; my legs were shaking with anticipation and my arms were aching to be used. I could feel the burning heat of adrenaline course through my body, reminding me that to fall in this ring would be worse than a failure. It would be sacrilege.
Amazingly, through the blaze of sound, smell, and blurred vision, I heard my name being chanted in the crowd. I could even recognize voices. It was my family, cheering me on as though I had already won. They didn’t understand, cheering was pointless.
I would have preferred silence. I would have preferred prayer. It was a senseless thought; I was not a praying man. And yet, when I was ensconced in the claustrophobic euphoria of the fight, I found myself calling on a higher power.
Then the bell sounded and the world slowed. I saw him coming towards me, the titan of a man who was now a machine in my eyes. Rhesus Carrow came boldly forward, with his massive frame, his powerful arms, and his intimidating eyes. He already believed he had won. I saw that in his leer, in the pervasive smile that caught my attention just before he sent a punch for my face.
I ducked, and he missed, but just barely. He was fast, faster this round than in the previous, and I knew that he wanted to end it soon. An early victory was always a sweeter one.
But he was underestimating me. I was younger then he was, I wasn’t as physically imposing as he was, I wasn’t as experienced as he was – but I was hungry. And, I was determined.
That determination came from knowing that this was all I had. This opportunity would not come a second time, and now that it was here, I needed to make my mark. I needed to make an impression because without it, I was lost. This was more than just about victory for me. This was about survival.
The fight transformed into a living, breathing beast right before my eyes. I had never thought so clearly or moved so swiftly before. I cut off the world and focused only on the machine charging towards me. He was not invincible, no matter what title preceded his name. He was not undefeatable. He was my future, and I needed to secure it by taking him down.
He sent another punch for my face. But this time, I predicted the move and avoided it easily. I spun around, under his arm, and came up behind him. He turned, but my fist was already hurtling towards him. I made contact with the edge of his jaw, sending him reeling into the ring’s elastic boundaries. A roar went up around me, but I refused to celebrate. This was just the beginning.
The machine’s eyes narrowed, and I knew I had taken him off guard. I knew I had unsettled him. He was starting to realize that this would not be an easy victory. It certainly wouldn’t be a quick one.
I took advantage of the new realization in his eyes and came at him with single-minded purpose. I had his head in my hands, pushing him down between my knees. He was struggling to breathe, but I made sure he was weakened before I let go.
He was on his knees, coughing, stuttering, and struggling to rise. I walked around him, aiming my next punch on his back. His giant body fell to the ground, but his arms and legs still fought to stand. But it was over… I could see it already. Defeat was written on every muscle on his body. I backed away as the crowd went wild.
I blinked my eyes open, and I was back in my shitty studio apartment with the sound of blaring traffic just outside my window. I stretched out my sore arm, trying to ignore the tender splint of pain that ran down it. Almost a week later, and I still had pain. I rose from my single bed and felt the bedsprings squeak in relief as I released it of my weight. It took me only three long strides to get to my kitchen.
I opened the fridge and checked what was inside. There was only half a loaf of stale bread and a cup of instant noodles. I got out the noodles and popped it in the microwave. I waited till it was ready and then took two long strides to my dark brown couch and sank down into it. I ate my instant noodles, reliving the fight in Vegas again, but by the time I finished, I was still hungry.
I decided to head to the local market and restock my cupboards. I was just about to reach for my coat when I heard a knock on my door.
“What?” I yelled.
“Let me in, doofus.” Sam’s voice was impatient.
“It’s open,” I said.
A moment later, Sam stepped into my apartment. He was dressed in his uniform with his shiny silver badge on the front of his shirt.
“Nice look,” I said, only being semi sarcastic.
“I’m a lieutenant now,” he replied. “I’ve got to look the part. You look like hell.”
“Didn’t sleep so good last night,” I replied.
“Your arm?”
I nodded.
Sam shook his head at me. “Go see a fucking doctor,” he told me, collapsing onto my bed while I remained on the sofa.
“Waste of time and money,” I insisted. “I’ve just got to rub some dirt in it.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “That sofa needs to be buried,” he said. “I think it’s on its last legs.”
I smirked. “It was on its last legs when I found it by the dumpster two years ago.”
He laughed. “Dude, you really need to get yourself a better place. This apartment’s a shit show…if you can even call it an apartment.”
“It suits me fine,” I said shortly. Sam got on my case about my apartment every few months. I dealt with his persistence by changing the subject. “How are Mia and Renni?”
“Both good,” Sam nodded, a smile lighting up his face.
He was a changed man ever since he had met Mia. I was happy for him, but a part of me felt distanced from him, too. Of all my brothers, Sam had been the most similar to me. Now with Mia in his life, even he seemed far removed from the cynical man that I was.
“Renni wants to start planning the wedding immediately,” Sam told me.
“Maybe you should take a page from Peter and Madison’s book and skip the whole engagement period completely,” I suggested. “Go down to town hall and get married without all the fuss and hoopla.”
Sam laughed. “Mia deserves a nice wedding,” he said. “Plus, I think she just wants to enjoy being engaged for awhile. We’re not in a rush to get married.”
He was silent for a moment, and I could tell he was reliving the moment he had proposed to Mia. His eyes softened considerably, and he kept touching his finger as though there were a ring already on it.
“Fuck, Vegas turned out to be a huge weekend huh?” Sam said. “Alan and Jessica had just come down from their honeymoon. Mia and I got engaged, Peter and Madison decided to skip the planning and just get married in an Elvis chapel, and you won the big fight.”
“It was something,” I nodded.
“It was more than something… It was an amazing weekend,” Sam laughed. “There was so much excitement that I actually thought Kami’s water might break.”
“It’s lucky John’s a doctor.”
Sam smirked. “He’s a plastic surgeon.”
I smiled, but really, I was just trying to cover up the fact that I was being left behind. I shook away the thought. If I was being left behind, it was my own fault. I had distanced myself from the family years ago and now that the habit had cemented itself in my personality, it was hard to let people in, especially my family. They just knew too much about me. It made me feel self-conscious and exposed…as though my flaws were on display for everyone to see.
“You coming over for Sunday dinner this weekend?” Sam asked.
“Uh… I’ll try,” I said evasively.
He looked at me pointedly. “That sounds suspiciously like a no.”
I rested my head against the back of the sofa. “It’s not.”
“I know Mom would love to see you,” he said gently.
“I saw her only last week.”
“We were in Vegas with the whole family,” he pointed out. “There was no room for one-on-one time.”
“I was never very good at one-on-one time,” I reminded him.
“What do you think we’re doing right now?” Sam challenged.
“That’s different…you’re my brother.”
“And, she’s your mother.”
“I’ll try and make it this weekend,” I said, even though I already knew I wasn’t going. It was easier just to pretend sometimes.
The truth was I tended to avoid family dinners when it was just a few of us sitting around the table. Alan and Jessica didn’t live in Colorado, and neither did John and Kami. It would just be Mom, Sam, his fiancée and his stepdaughter, Peter and his wife. There was more room for conversation then and it was never as easy to hide out in a smaller crowd of people. I couldn’t explain that to Sam, however; he just wouldn’t understand.
“Have you heard anything?” Sam asked. “About the fight.”
I ran my hand through my short-cropped hair. “No…not yet,” I said, trying to sound unconcerned.
“It’s been a week hasn’t it?”
“Almost,” I said. “Five days to be exact… But who’s counting.”
“Someone will get in contact with you,” he said confidently. “Anyone who watched that fight last week will know by now what a brilliant MMA fighter you are. You deserve to go pro. You deserve to make it to the big leagues.”
I suppressed a sigh and turned my eyes away from Sam. Nothing had ever come that easily for me. I was different from my brothers in that regard. They all had their careers, their callings, and they excelled in their respective fields.
Sam had started as a rookie fire fighter, and now he was a lieutenant. Peter had started out as a small time cop, now he was a respected detective. Alan had spent his childhood in swimming pools, now he was an Olympic gold medallist. John had begun as a young plastic surgeon, and now he co-owned a plastic surgery clinic in California.
We were all so different from one another, but I had honestly believed that we’d had one thing in common at least. We, the Burbank brothers, were eternal bachelors. That is what I had always thought. And yet, slowly, over time, each of my brothers had paired up. They’d found their partners, despite constant protests that the single life was the best kind, and everyone had settled down. Which left…me.
“We’ll see,” I said, staying loyal to my cynical faith.
After Sam left, I headed down to the grocery store on the corner. They weren’t really known for carrying the best produce, but they were the cheapest store on the block. I bought a value pack of instant noodles for fifty cents a cup, some wilted vegetables, a few pounds of fatty meat, and a couple of cartons of juice at a reduced price. Satisfied with my bill of eight dollars and seventy cents, I headed back home.
I put away my groceries and checked my phone again. No missed calls and no messages. The sun was going down, but I had gotten into the habit of keeping the lights off at night to save on electricity. I walked around my apartment under the shadowy glow of the streetlights outside my window. It was a ghostly existence, but appropriate in my case. There were days when I felt very much like a ghost.
I was doing push-ups between my bed and the sofa, ignoring the pain in my arm, when a call came in on my phone. I jumped to my feet and made a grab for it. It was an unknown number. I took a deep breath and answered.
Chapter Two
Brittany
My tennis shoes slapped the side of the pavement in a humdrum rhythm. I kept trying to find the music in it, but there was none to be found. My iPod had finally given out last week, which meant I no longer had any music to accompany me on the walk to work. All I had was the incessant rustling of shivering leaves and the sound of my own movement.
I turned the corner to the sight of Danny’s Diner nestled comfortably on the adjacent side of the block. The theme had always been pink and green. It was a clash of color that looked garish, rather than whimsical, but that apparently was what Danny had been going for. He wanted colors that were eye catching, and his argument was that the more mismatched the concept, the more people remembered it. It was a theory that had worked well for him in the eight years since he’d started the diner, but personally, I believed that people came to the diner despite the décor.
The sign on the front of the diner read “closed,” but I disregarded it and pushed it open. The diner didn’t open till seven o’clock, and I was twenty minutes early. Lacey was on one of the bar stools, leaning against the breakfast counter. Danny was on the other side, leaning towards her in his usual flannel shirt and apron. It was obvious that they were chatting about the party they had been to last night.
“Morning, ladies,” I greeted, removing the bulky brown coat from around my shoulders.
Danny didn’t exactly have a uniform that he required Lacey and I to wear. But he had stated on numerous occasions that the sexier, the outfit the better. I tended to disregard that piece of advice more often than not, but Lacey had always taken it to heart.
She was wearing a short, low-rise red skirt, combined with a white crop top that bared her toned stomach and her belly piercing. She had paired the outfit with her favorite ankle-high boots. The color of her skirt perfectly matched the flaming red hue of her hair, which was cropped short like a guy’s, spiked slightly at the top, and hugged her perfectly angular face.
In comparison to Lacey, I looked drab and modest. I had worn my favorite pair of jeans with my softest long sleeved black t-shirt. It was so old that it clung to my body like paint, but felt as though I wasn’t wearing a thing. I shook my hair out in an old habit that had cemented itself in childhood and took a seat next to Lacey.
Danny eyed me critically as he looked me over with blatant disapproval. Lacey and I had worked for him for five years now. He had become something of a surrogate brother to the both of us, and it was probably the main reason we had stayed with him for so long. It was out of loyalty, pure and simple.
Following his divorce, his ex-wife had made out with their car, the house, and everything in it, including the two mixed Scottish terriers that Danny had rescued a few years before. But at least Danny had managed to get away with enough money to start his own diner.
“What?” I demanded under his brown-eyed gaze.
“That shirt again?” he asked, with raised eyebrows. “I swear, it’s like you own three things.”
“Five, actually,” I corrected. “And, this one is very versatile.”
“It shows off your shape, I’ll give you that much,” Danny conceded. “But it’s boring, it’s blah, it’s…dull.”
I sighed. “Must we have this conversation every week?”
“We wouldn’t have to if you didn’t wear the same thing every week.”
“You can borrow something from me,” Lacey offered generously.
I rolled my eyes at her. “Umm…no thanks.”
Lacey looked at me as though she were offended. “Are you trying to tell me something about my fashion sense?”
I laughed. “It’s a little much for me,” I admitted.
Lacey gave me a wink. “A little too sexy for you?”
“That’s the word I was looking for,” I nodded.
“Why didn’t you come to the party last night?” Danny demanded, changing the topic abruptly like he usually did. “It was amazing.”
“I was tired,” I said with a shrug.
Lacey and Danny exchanged an exasperated glance. “We’re all tired, Brit,” Lacey said. “But we go out anyway. Parties like this are worth it, in any case.”
“How good was it?” I asked.
Danny pushed a cup of coffee towards me. “It was off the chains,” he replied. “The music was particularly good. Perfect music to make out to.”
“And, did you?” I asked. “Make out, I mean?”
“Of cours,e I did,” Danny winked at me. “You can’t go to a party and not fool around with a complete stranger. That’s practically unheard of.”
I laughed. “What about you?” I asked, turning to Lacey.
“She was doing the walk of shame this morning,” Danny answered, before Lacey could.
“His name was Bryan… Or Ryan… Or something like that,” Lacey laughed. “He turned out to be quite the animal in bed.”
“Urgh,” Danny complained.
“Oh yeah,” Lacey nodded appreciatively. “Two orgasms in one night.”
He rolled his eyes. “Only?” he said critically. “I’ve given women more orgasms than that in one night.”
“If that were true, you wouldn’t be divorced right now.”
“My sexual prowess kicked in after the divorce,” Danny replied seriously.
We laughed together. This had become an early morning ritual between the three of us. It was the reason Lacey and I came in early. We had a chat, shared some breakfast, and set up for the breakfast shift. By the time I had finished my coffee, it was seven. I headed to the door and turned the sign over as Lacey popped freshly baked pastries into the clear cloche on the counter.
Danny disappeared into the kitchen to start some of the regulars’ breakfast orders. We had three regulars who showed up every single day without fail. Then there were the weekend regulars and the day regulars who showed up on one specific day of the week. Today was Monday, so we had Garry, Ray, and Murr, who were our everyday regulars, and then we had Monica, who was our Monday regular.
At fifteen past seven, they started coming in one by one. Monica took her usual place at the front booth, while Garry, Ray, and Murr opted for seats at the counter. I knew them all pretty well at this stage. Monica was a sixty-year-old retiree with snow-white fluff for hair and light blue eyes behind massively thick frames. She had one ex-husband, one dead husband, and two children she didn’t seem too fond of.
Garry, Ray, and Murr were all middle-aged men with similar jobs who looked like they shared the same wardrobe. In the beginning, I had continually gotten them mixed up because they all just looked like different versions of the same man. The only real difference between them was that Murr was single, while Garry and Ray had unhappy wives at home.
Within ten minutes, everyone was busy devouring hot breakfasts, and light conversation buzzed through the diner.
“Hi Monica,” I greeted as I walked up to her table. “How are those poached eggs working out for you?”
She gave me a grandmotherly smile. “Fucking good,” she said. “As always.”
“Good to know,” I laughed. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Any new pies Daniel cooked up this morning?”
“Of course,” I nodded. “We have our traditional banana cream pie and we also have a cherry pie today, hot from the oven.”
“Hmm…hard to decide,” Monica said, looking at me with concentration. “What would you recommend?”
“Both?” I suggested.
She smiled. “I’ve always like you,” she said. “Both it is.”
I nodded and stepped behind the counter to cut out two pieces of pie, just as another customer headed into the diner. I recognized the man instantly. His name was Joseph; he was in his late thirties or early forties and had only recently moved to Quebec. He had started to come into the diner in the last couple of weeks and seemed to have a vested interest in me.
I caught Lacey’s eye, and she winked at me suggestively. I ignored that and placed two pieces of pie on two separate plates for Monica.
“That cherry pie smells amazing,” Murr sighed. “Cut me a piece, will you, Brit?”
I put my hand on my hip and gave him a glare. “You’re not supposed to be eating pie,” I reprimanded him. “You’re diabetic.”
“Well, you’ve got to die of something.”
I suppressed my smile. “Do you have your insulin with you?”
“Of course,” he nodded. “Now be a doll and cut me a piece.”
Conceding, I popped another piece of cherry pie on a plate and slid it towards Murr, just as Lacey joined me behind the counter.
“He asked if you could serve him,” she said, giving me a pointed smile.
I sighed. “Did you tell him I was busy?”
“Nope.” Lacey smiled happily.
Groaning in frustration, I headed towards Joseph’s table. He set down his menu the moment he saw me. “Hello,” he said.
“Morning,” I replied. “What can I get you?”
“It’s cold today, isn’t it?” he said, ignoring my question.
I raised my eyebrows politely. “Umm… I suppose. I don’t feel the cold so much anymore.”
“Have you always lived in Canada?”
“Always.”
“And, you like it here?”
“I never really had the option of leaving,” I replied honestly.
“Oh.”
And just like that, he seemed to run out of things to say. It was almost as though he had practised the questions he wanted to ask me on the way over, but he could never think of any on the spot, once he had run out.
I gave him a smile. “What can I get you?” I repeated my first question.
“I… Uh…”
“The spinach and cheese pancakes are pretty good,” I suggested. “And they come with a side of bacon or chicken, your choice.”
“Uh…sure,” Joseph nodded. “That then.”
“Chicken or bacon?” I asked.
“Uh…bacon?”
“Sure thing,” I nodded. “Anything to drink with that?”
“Just water.”
I nodded and headed back to the counter. Lacey gave me a wink as I approached. “You should give him a chance,” she whispered to me. “He could be a freak in bed.”
I rolled my eyes at her without even dignifying that comment with a response. I heard Lacey’s laughter follow me into the kitchen. The day ahead was uneventful and busy. I managed to get a twenty-minute lunch break, but I was on my feet for the rest of the day. It was ten o’clock before I finally got home to my tiny studio apartment. You could see the bed, the couch, and the kitchen from the front door.
I removed my boots and plopped myself down on my creaking sofa. “Oh, shut up,” I said as the springs moaned underneath me. I hitched up my feet and rubbed them down, trying to relieve the aching soreness pulsing through them. When I was done, I got out the piece of pie Danny had packed for me and ate it straight out of the container.
When I was done, I leaned back against the sofa, still tired and still a little hungry. I knew I had some old fruit in the fridge, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted it enough to get up off the sofa. I stared straight ahead at the empty wall where my television used to be. I had sold it last year in order to pay for some community college courses that I’d thought would be a stepping stone to better things.
In the end, I’d been forced to drop out because I couldn’t balance studying with my crazy diner shifts. So now, I had no television. Just my own thoughts to keep me company at night – and that was never a very good thing.
“When is life going to get good?” I sighed. “Actually, fuck that. When is life going to get easy?”
I waited patiently, but no answer came.
Chapter Three
Talen
“Am I late?” Sam asked, skidding to a stop in front of me.
The airport was busy, but I liked that kind of chaotic scramble because no one was really paying attention to everybody else. People were just worried about catching their flights, getting their luggage, and finding their loves ones.
“I thought you might be,” I replied. “So I gave you an earlier flight time.”
“Asshole,” he laughed, punching me in the arm. “Not that I can blame you. I just came off a shift.”
“You didn’t have to come at all,” I reminded him.
Sam rolled his eyes at me. “Of course, I had to come,” he said. “You’re my brother, and you’ve finally landed an MMA contract. This is big, man! I can’t believe how chilled out you look right now.”
I gave Sam a small smile. “You know that I rarely get over excited.”
“That’s an understatement,” he said. “I wish you’d given us more notice, though. We would have thrown you a going away party, or a congratulations party…or something.”
“Which is exactly why I didn’t tell you,” I said. “You know I don’t like shit like that – especially when it revolves around me.”
Sam sighed noisily. “You are a tough person to be happy for, Talen.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
“Did you get a chance to talk to Mom?”
I nodded. “We spent a couple of minutes on the phone this morning.”
“And, Pete?” Sam’s tone was slightly cautious, and I knew why.
Peter and I had always had a complicated relationship. It was leaps and bounds better than what it had been a couple of years ago, but it was still a point of contention sometimes.
“I called,” I said slowly. “He didn’t pick up.”
“Maybe you should try again?” Sam suggested. “Want me to dial for you?”
I shot him a glare, but I knew he was right. I should say goodbye to Peter before I left, so I nodded once. “Okay.”
Sam dialled in Peter’s number and handed the phone to me without saying a word. “Hello?” I said, taking the phone from Sam’s hand.
“Hi, Talen,” Peter replied. I didn’t bother asking him how he knew who it was, given that it was Sam’s phone. “You heading out today?”
“I am,” I agreed.
“I never really congratulated you properly.”
“You didn’t really have to.”
“No, I did,” Peter insisted in that big brother voice of his. I wondered if it was just my imagination or if he only used that tone when he spoke to me. “I know you like to downplay your own accomplishments, but this is a big deal, Talen. You should be proud of yourself – I know I am.”
He sounded like Dad for a moment, and I felt the tattoo on my back sting a little. “Umm…thanks.”
I probably should have said more, but I had never been good with that sort of thing. It amazed me how patient Peter could be sometimes. There were moments when I could see what a reclusive shit I was being and I was still powerless to do anything about it.
“I… I guess I’ll talk to you later, then,” Peter said awkwardly.
“Yeah… Okay. Bye.”
“Bye,” he replied. “And, good luck in Quebec.”
I hung up and passed the phone back to Sam. “I have to get going soon,” I warned him.
“You nervous?” Sam asked. “Excited?”
“I’m ready,” I replied simply. I had been waiting for this for what seemed like an eternity. This MMA training facility may not have been extremely well known, but it was good enough for me. I wasn’t the type to be picky. The point was that I had been recruited, and now I was going to be trained. Once I got into that ring, I would prove myself. Because it wasn’t about your past outside the ring, it was all about your performance inside it.
“It’s odd,” Sam said.
“What is?”
“I never actually thought about the MMA,” he said. “But it’s kind of perfect for you, huh? I mean, think about it. You’ve always been a fighter, and this way, you actually get paid for it.”
“We all have stuff we’re good at,” I said.
Sam smiled. “And, you honed your talents on the streets.”
“Much to Peter’s disappointment.”
“He just didn’t want you to end up in jail,” Sam said. He stalled a little as he realized that Peter was the one who put me there in the first place. It had been a pre-emptive decision on Peter’s part, an attempt to remove me from the bad crowd I’d been travelling in at the time. I had come to understand his choice, even though I hadn’t always. “Uh… I mean… You know.”
I smiled. “I know,” I nodded. “Anyway, thanks for coming Sam, but I think I need to head off now. My flight’s going to be taking off soon.”
“Yeah, of course,” he nodded. He came forward and gave me a hug. Sam was the one brother who made me feel more comfortable, and he was the one person I felt I could talk to. He had that completely non-judgemental air that put you at ease immediately.
“Thanks for coming down here to see me off, Sam,” I said. “I really appreciate it.”
“Of course, dude,” he nodded. “I wouldn’t miss seeing you off.”
“You know… I think I might actually miss having you pop in every so often,” I admitted.
He laughed. “You’ll definitely miss me, buddy. But don’t worry, I’ll send you pictures.”
I rolled my eyes at him and started walking away.
“I love you, buddy,” Sam yelled out after me, and I quickened my pace.
I could hear him laughing even after I had turned the corner. Shaking my head, I made my way to the terminal just as an announcement went out that stated boarding was about to begin soon. Half an hour later, I took my seat at the back of the aircraft. I was wedged into an uncomfortable economy seat by the toilet, but I had expected as much. Budget airlines were not known for the comfort.
I was staring out the window, when a woman slid into the seat next to me. She was short, perky, blonde, and attractive in a common sort of way. I tried not to make eye contact, but she didn’t seem to get the hint.
“Nice tats,” she said, giving me a bright smile.
“Thanks,” I nodded.
“They look painful.”
“Not for me.”
“Really?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “They didn’t hurt at all?”
“Depends on where they are,” I replied, trying to keep my answers as short as possible.
“Like?”
“The collarbone for example,” I said.
“Wow, I didn’t see that one,” she said, glancing at my neck. “Is that a symbol?”
“Celtic,” I replied.
“What does it mean?”
I hesitated a little, amazed how much she’d managed to say in such short a span of time. “It’s symbolizes strength.”
“I’ve always wanted a tattoo,” she continued. “But the pain is what stops me from getting one.”
“Then you don’t want one bad enough,” I replied.
I meant to be abrupt, but she seemed to find my blunt manner amusing. She gave me a smile and leaned in a little closer. There was no room for me to move away, so I had no choice but to meet her gaze.
“I’m Kelly, by the way,” she said, sticking her hand out towards me.
“Kelly,” I said, shaking her hand.
She smiled. “Do you have a name?”
“Talen,” I replied, unable to avoid the introductions.
“Interesting name.”
I nodded and looked out the window, hoping that would bring an end to the conversation. She was quiet for all of two minutes before she found something else to talk about.
“So why are you heading to Canada?” she asked. “Business or pleasure?”
“I…uh…both,” I said uncertainly. “Either.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You’re not sure?”
“I’m entering a training program,” I said. “I’ll be in Canada for a few months while I complete training.”
“Wow, what are you training for?”
“The MMA.”
She frowned. “Should I know what that is?”
“Mixed Martial Arts,” I replied. “I’m hoping to compete professionally.”
“No way,” she said, sounding impressed. “Isn’t that quite…violent?”
“It can be,” I shrugged.
“Well, you are a pretty big guy. I suppose it makes sense now that I think about it. Mixed martial arts… Wow.”
The plane took off and still, she wouldn’t stop talking. All I wanted was a few minutes of silence, just a couple of moments so that I could hear myself think. Between the incessant talking and the roar of the plane’s engine, I felt a headache start to come on. So, I did the one thing I could think of that would make her shut up.
She was asking me something about where the training compound was when I interrupted her. “You know what?”
“What?”
“I’ve always wanted to join the mile high club,” I said.
She raised her eyebrows as though she hadn’t heard me correctly. “What?”
“Let’s fuck in the toilet,” I said bluntly.
My reasoning was simple. Either she would be appalled and insulted and insist that her seat be changed so that she could get away from me, or she would agree to sneak into the bathroom for a quick fuck. Either way, she wouldn’t be able to talk – and that was my main goal.
Her dark eyes widened a little as though she couldn’t quite believe the proposition I had just made. But I could see the desire in her eyes. She was considering it.
“I barely know you,” she said, at last.
I realized she was being coy. She didn’t want to say yes too soon for fear I would brand her as cheap, loose, or slutty. But she wanted a story to tell, too. She wanted to go home to her friends and tell them about the tattooed MMA fighter she had fucked on a plane to Canada.
“You don’t have to know someone to fuck them.”
One corner of her mouth went up and then she nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Should I go in first or should you?”
“You go ahead,” I said. “I’ll be in there soon.”
I made her wait almost ten minutes. The silence was beautiful, and I almost considered sitting where I was and seeing how long it took her to give up and come back out. But in the end, I couldn’t do that to her. I got out of my seat and slipped into the bathroom she had gone into. There was no room to breathe. The space was tiny and our bodies were pressed up close already. She looked at me in anticipation, and I knew she wanted me to take the lead. I didn’t bother with foreplay, and I didn’t bother to kiss her. I just pulled up her dress, pulled down her panties and shoved myself inside her.
She gasped as her arms gripped my neck. She was wet and ready for me. I held her over the commode and fucked her against the back wall of the tiny bathroom. We were lucky that the plane’s engine was so loud and there was a decent bit of turbulence because it turned out Kelly was a screamer. I had to clamp my hand down over her mouth as I fucked her because she kept letting out prolonged moans of pleasure.
When we were finished, I zipped myself up and told her to wait ten minutes before she came out again. By the time she made it back to her seat, I was pretending to be asleep. I spent the rest of the flight enjoying the relative peace and quiet. She tried to make conversation when the plane landed, but in the bustle of disembarking, I managed to avoid her.
I lost her amongst the crowd by crossing aisles on the plane, and by the time I stepped out of the aircraft, I had completely lost sight of her. I walked out into the massive airport to find a man holding a sign with my name on it.
I couldn’t help but smile. I knew it was premature, but I finally felt as though I had made it.
Chapter Four
Brittany
“Hi,” I said dully as I stepped into the diner and walked over to the counter.
Danny had just finished wiping it down, and it gleamed. I could smell a new pie in the oven, filling the diner up with its soothing aroma. “Looks like someone got up on the wrong side of bed this morning,” he pointed out.
I grunted. “Where’s Lacey?”
“She’s not here yet.”
I sat down and slumped my hands against the counter.
“What’s wrong?” Danny asked sympathetically.
“I called the auto shop this morning,” I replied. “They did a full work up, and apparently, if I choose to do the repairs, they’re going to amount to a thousand dollars – at least.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah,” I sighed.
“For that shitty piece of metal you drive?”
“Apparently,” I nodded. “A thousand fucking dollars… Who has that kind of money?”
“Umm… rich people?”
I shot a frown in Danny’s direction. “Seriously, it feels like all we do is work,” I complained. “We bust our asses every day, and somehow we’re no better for it. I still have the same shitty apartment in the same shitty corner of the road.”
“Hang in there.”
“You’ve been telling me that for the last three years,” I said impatiently.
“Come on, Brit,” Danny said bracingly. “It’s not that bad.”
“It isn’t?”
“Sure, we don’t have it as good as other people might,” he said pragmatically. “But we also don’t have it as bad as some others. I mean, take me for example. I could whine about the fact that I’m thirty-four, divorced, and struggling to keep this diner afloat. Or I could see it another way. I’m thirty-four, and I own my own restaurant and my own land. I get to cook for a living, and I get to go to work each day and see my two best friends.”
I smiled. “Well…”
“See?” he said. “It’s all about perspective.”
“I know it is,” I nodded. “It’s just that perspective shifts according to the bill I’m looking at. And, I have a lot of bills – sometimes it shocks me.”
Danny smiled. “Welcome to being an adult.”
“Urgh, being an adult is overrated,” I said. “And, it sucks.”
Danny laughed, and then he fixed me with a contemplative gaze.
“What?” I asked.
“I have an idea…”
“Which is?”
“They were handing out leaflets on the sidewalk the other day,” he said. “I took one and put it away, but I think it might actually be quite a good idea.”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you planning on sharing this idea with me today?”
“So impatient,” Danny smiled, good-naturedly. “They’re having a winter marathon in a few months. And I was thinking…we should join up, all three of us.”
I snorted. “You’re going to have a hard time convincing Lacey to run a marathon.”
“Leave that to me,” he said, with a conspiratorial wink. “But what do you think?”
“I don’t know,” I sighed. “What would be the point?”
“The point is to do something pro-active, something that could even be fun. The point is to do something together. And, it’ll give us something to look forward to.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Hmm… I guess it would be nice to have something to look forward to, even if it is just a marathon.”
“It’s all about perspective, right?” Danny reminded me.
I smiled. “Alright,” I nodded. “I’m in.”
“Excellent!”
“What’s excellent?” Lacey asked, as walked into the diner.
She was wearing a tight blue tank top and low-rise jeans. She looked like she was ready for a party rather than a shift serving food at a diner.
“We have some exciting news,” Danny said, pairing up his tone. “It’s going to be so fun, and we’re all going to do this together.”
“Really?” Lacey asked, instantly intrigued. “Do tell.”
“This is going to be great,” he continued. “I’m so excited, I can barely get the words out.”
I laughed. “Danny’s signing us up for the winter marathon,” I told Lacey.
The change in her face was instant. She looked at me for a moment and then she turned to Danny as though he had just walked into the diner naked. “Are you fucking serious?” she demanded. “That’s what you’re excited about?”
“Great idea, right?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m out.”
“Aw, come on, Lace,” I said. “I was skeptical at first, too, but I actually think it could be good for us.”
“You’re really on board?” she asked, fixing me with a shocked expression.
“Why not?” I shrugged. “It might be fun.”
“It’s a marathon,” Lacey said, making the word sound dirty.
“It’s a way to keep fit,” Danny pointed out.
“Why would I need to keep fit when I’ve been naturally blessed with this killer bod?” Lacey asked, gesturing to her figure.
“Because a hot body doesn’t necessarily equal a healthy body,” Danny said.
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t see the point.”
“The point is to do…do something,” I said emphatically. “We can do it together – it’ll be a bonding experience.”
“Don’t you think we bond enough at work?”
Danny smiled. “There’ll be tons of guys there,” he pointed out. “And if they’re running this marathon, I’ll bet you anything, they’re fit.”
Lacey raised her eyebrows. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
I laughed. “We should have just led with that.”
“Right,” Danny nodded.
“Fine,” she conceded. “We’ll do the stupid marathon. You guys know me too well.”
We were distracted by the sound of the door as Monica walked in. “Morning, children,” she greeted. “Danny shouldn’t you be in the kitchen making my breakfast?”
“I’ll get right on it, Monica,” Danny smiled. “Poached eggs with salmon, again?”
“And, add some waffles to the plate,” Monica said, as she slid into her booth. “I’m hungry.”
“You got it,” he said as he disappeared into the kitchen.
I headed to the coffee maker and poured Monica a nice generous mug full before walking over to her table.
“How are you doing this morning, Monica?” I asked conversationally, setting the mug down in front of her.
“I had a date last night,” she replied. “So I’m feeling pretty good.”
I tried hard to keep my expression unchanged. “I assume it went well?”
“Very well,” he nodded. “So good that I’m actually sore this morning.”
“Wow,” I said, unable to keep my eyebrows from lifting. I laughed. “Well, good for you.”
I turned and headed back to the breakfast counter. I could see that Lacey had overheard the whole conversation and she was fighting back laughter.
“How does it feel?” she asked.
“What?”
“How does it feel to know that a sixty-year-old grandma is having more sex than you are?” Lacey teased.
“Fuck off,” I said, rolling my eyes.
She snorted back her giggles. “I’ve been telling you this for ages – you’d be happier in life if you just got laid more.”
“Sex isn’t the answer to everything,” I said firmly.
“I beg to differ.”
I rolled my eyes. “And, I have sex.”
“When was the last time you had sex?” Lacey demanded.
I thought back, desperate to find a single stand out moment. “That time…”
Lacey gave me a smile. “What time?” she demanded. “I want specifics.”
“Greg,” I said triumphantly.
“Greg?” Lacey repeated, with raised eyebrows.
“Yeah… remember we went to that party at Dylan’s?” I reminded her. “He was visiting Dylan from out of town.”
“First of all, his name was Gil,” Lacey said, rolling her eyes. “He was useless in the sack, and that was months ago.”
“I have a full time job, you know,” I said defensively.
“So do I,” she said smugly. “And, I still have a healthy sex life.”
“Don’t underestimate a good fuck, Brittany,” Monica said, raising her voice so that she could join in on our conversation. “It keeps you young.”
“Oh my God!” I said, mortified at being overheard, and slightly embarrassed that a sixty year old did seem to have a better sex life than I did.
I escaped their combined laughter by ducking into the kitchen. Danny was busy popping crunchy golden waffles onto a plate with the poached eggs and salmon.
“Just in time,” he said brightly.
“I beg to differ.”
“Something the matter?” he asked.
“Umm…no,” I said quickly. “Nothing… You done with that?”
He handed me the plate, and I sucked in my breath and braved the diner once more. I had just set the plate down in front of Monica when I noticed a tall silhouette approaching the diner. I glanced up, impressed by the sheer size of him.
He was at least six-three, impressively built with strongly toned arms that were clearly visible from his sleeveless hoodie. He had a plethora of beautifully inked tattoos snaking up and down his arms. I could even spy a few peeking out underneath his collar. As he stepped into the diner, his hoodie fell back to reveal his face.
As impressed as I was with his body, I was more affected by his face. He had sharp, angular features, a straight patriarchal nose, full lips, and a light dusting of stubble lining his square jaw. The near perfection of his face was made even more prominent by the fact that he had a completely shaved head, making his piercing blue eyes seem almost otherworldly. He didn’t smile or make eye contact with anyone. He just moved to the back of the diner and took a seat at one of the booths.
“Well, well,” Monica said, breaking my concentration. “Isn’t he a fine specimen of a man?”
I shook myself out of my obvious ogling and gave her a parting smile before I headed back to the counter. It was obvious Lacey was watching him, too.
“Damn, he’s fine,” she breathed, the moment I approached.
“I especially love his smile,” I said, trying to sound unaffected.
She waved away my comment. “He’s far too sexy to smile,” she said. “Look at him. Let me go ask if he wants coffee, tea or…me?”
I smiled and watched as Lacey headed off to his table. I tried to busy myself and not look in his direction, but it was surprisingly hard. Every few seconds, I found myself glancing over at his table. Within a minute, Lacey was back.
“Well?” I asked.
“He’s even sexier up close,” she said. “But he’s not very talkative. I don’t think he’s the friendly type.”
“You have always loved a challenge.”
“True,” Lacey nodded. “But you’ve always had more luck with that type of guy than I have. I think this one’s for you.”
“I’m not interested.”
She smiled. “I’m not asking you to date him. I’m asking you to take his order.”
“Oh, right,” I nodded self-consciously. “You didn’t take his order?”
“He asked for a minute.”
“Oh, okay.”
I hung back to give him his minute. But the whole time I was thinking, why am I so affected by this man?
Chapter Five
Talen
The green and pink of the diner couldn’t be described as anything other than ugly, but for some reason, its boldness amused me. I made my way inside and picked a solitary booth at the back. The waitress who approached was dressed in a sexy outfit that bared her flat stomach. Her hair was an unnatural shade of red and boyish in its cut. But her smile was nothing if not feminie.
“Hi there, stranger,” she said flirtatiously. “You’re new around here.”
I raised my eyebrows infinitesimally. “I am.”
She seemed a little put off by my abrupt manner. I realized she was the kind of woman most men smiled at. I couldn’t find it in me to make small talk this morning, however, especially considering my mind was filled with thoughts of training and the day that lay ahead.
“The menu’s to your side,” she continued, her tone dulling slightly. “What can I get you?”
“Can you give me a minute?” I asked.
She hesitated. “Sure,” she nodded. Then she turned and walked away, shaking her hips with exaggerated slowness.
I turned my gaze down to the menu and read through the list there. It was standard breakfast fare with a few alternate combinations that I’d never seen before. But I wasn’t really in an adventurous mood today. All I wanted was something plain and hearty and something steaming hot to wash it down with. I had just finished looking through the menu when I noticed the waitress approach me again.
When I looked up, however, it was a different waitress. This one looked much more appropriate than the first. She was wearing sensible jeans that still managed to look sexy and a thin, long-sleeved sweater that took the shape of her body perfectly. She had shocking black hair that fell in waves to her shoulders and highlighted the stunning blue of her eyes. It was an alarmingly light blue that made me think of the sky just before rain.
“Good morning,” she said to me. There was no inflection in her tone. “I’m Brittany.”
“Talen,” I replied, wondering why I had just offered up my name to her. It wasn’t like I was required to.
She smiled. “What can I get you, Talen?”
“Coffee,” I replied. “As hot as you can make it. And toast.”
“Toast?” she repeated, with raised eyebrows.
“Yes.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” I nodded.
“Are you sure you don’t want a piece of pie with that?” she asked. “Today’s special is a strawberry custard.”
“I’m sure,” I said firmly. “Just the coffee and toast.”
She gave me an appraising look as though she were trying to figure me out. “Where are you from?” she asked suddenly.
“Colorado,” I replied.
She smiled and nodded. “Sorry, I’ll get you that coffee now.”
She turned and walked away. I watched her go, still seeing the sky blue of her eyes. She returned a few minutes later with a cup of strong, streaming coffee, as well as five pieces of fresh toast with butter.
“There you go,” she said, setting the plate down in front of me. “You know, I could bring you eggs with that?”
“No need,” I said brusquely.
When she walked away without another word, I felt the weird desire to call out after her and apologize. She didn’t look my way for the next half hour, and by the time I was done, she looked a little too busy to pay attention to me. I stepped up to the counter to pay, but she didn’t seem to notice me. Instead, it was the other waitress who turned to me.
“You didn’t have to come up,” she said. “I could have brought you the bill.”
“It’s not a problem,” I said.
I paid quickly and then headed out. I glanced back as I was leaving, searching for a glimpse of her. She was attending to a table and looked up just as I turned to her. She held my gaze for only a moment before she dropped it.
Wondering why I was so fixated, I pushed the image of her out of my head and walked towards the training facility. I knew I was a little early, but I didn’t care. I was looking forward to starting my training as soon as possible. The only thing I wasn’t exactly thrilled about was the fact that I would be working with a few other guys. I usually did better on my own, but if I had to play nice with others in order to see this through, I would.
The facility was large, spacious and full of promise. I headed into the main reception and gave my details to the portly man sitting behind the desk. He barely looked up as he told me to hold on for a minute. A few minutes later, a tall man in gym togs showed up. He was shorter than I was, but heavily built, like a serious weightlifter.
“Burbank?” he asked.
“That’s me,” I nodded. “Talen Burbank.”
“Right,” he said, in a deep voice that matched his body. “I’m Steven Donovan, and I’m going to be your trainer for the length of this training program.”
I nodded.
“Let’s go,” he said. “Ryan got here early, too.”
“Ryan?” I asked.
“He’s the other fighter who we recruited into this program,” Steven replied. “At the moment, it’s just the two of you, so you’ll have my undivided attention.”
“Is there a possibility of you taking on more fighters?” I asked.
“It’s a possibility,” he nodded. “But unlikely at this stage. There’s no point in any guy starting training halfway through – he’ll get killed in the ring, and that’s a reflection on this program.”
“Right,” I nodded.
We turned the corner and came to a huge gym-like area, complete with training rings decked out with all the bells and whistles. I suppressed a whistle of my own and followed Steven through to the corner ring where another guy was leaning casually against the wall. He was built well, with longer brown hair that didn’t quite match his face.
“Ryan Hart,” Steven said. “This is Talen Burbank. You do are going to be training together.”
“Nice to meet you, man,” Ryan said, in a thick Southern accent. “You’re from California, right?”
“Colorado,” I corrected.
“I’m from Louisiana,” Ryan volunteered the information, despite the fact that I hadn’t asked.
“I’ll give you boys a minute to get to know one another,” Steven said. “I’ll be back in five.”
He left us standing by the ring together. I could barely keep my eyes on Ryan. My gaze kept darting around at the space, admiring all the training equipment we had to work with. I had never been in such a well-stocked gym, and it reminded me that I had finally got my big break.
“Nice tattoos, man,” Ryan continued, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that I wasn’t even looking at him. “Did you get them all at once?”
“Uh…no.”
“Obviously not,” he nodded. “That would be crazy…obviously you did it over a period of time. So, how long have you been fighting?”
I suppressed a sigh. It seemed Canada was filled with people who liked to talk. “A year,” I replied. “Close to a year and a half.”
“Wow, that’s it?”
“Yes.”
“That’s amazing.”
“Is it?” I asked, turning to him.
“I’ve been fighting for almost four years,” he replied. “And, it took that long to get a contract. You must be good.”
I shrugged.
“Where were you discovered?”
“Vegas.”
“Nice,” he nodded. “I had three fights in Vegas. Almost got signed, too…but then I got knocked out in the second round and the scouts disappeared. Where did you get your start?”
“In the pits,” I replied.
Ryan raised his eyebrows. “You mean, illegal MMA?”
“I had to buy my way in,” I replied. “That was the only way to get my foot in the door.”
“I wouldn’t say too much about that,” Ryan said with a smile.
“I don’t say much of anything,” I replied.
He looked at me carefully. “Hmm…I can see you’re the strong, silent type. Women dig that.”
“I’m not here for women,” I said, my tone changing discernibly. “I’m here to fight.”
Ryan looked at me for a moment and then smiled. “I feel you,” he said. “It’s the same reason I’m here. But we all need a little release every now and again, don’t we? And, nothing gives you a release quite like a woman.”
I turned away from him and climbed into the ring next to us. It felt amazing to be standing there in the center of it. Even the black matted floor called out to me. I heard Ryan come into the ring with me and suppressed a groan. He was much too talkative for my taste, but it looked like I was going to be stuck with him, so I vowed to be as patient as possible.
“There’s Steven,” Ryan pointed out unnecessarily.
Steven joined us in the ring. “Are you boys ready?”
“Definitely,” I said before Ryan could speak.
“Good,” Steven nodded. “Then let’s get started.”
I had never had professional training before. Everything I had learnt had been in the annals of the underground where fighters had clawed at each other like rabid dogs in the gutters. I had learnt from my own mistakes, from keen observation, and from the pain of a hundred different wounds and bruises. It was an altogether different experience to stand under the bright lights of the gym, amidst the glossy equipment that would catapult me into the foreground of the MMA.
Steven was an excellent trainer and within the first twenty minutes, he had earned my respect. Even Ryan impressed me. When his mouth was shut, he was actually quite a worthy opponent and by the end of the day, I was actually happy to be training alongside him. We went through cardio, weights, and a dozen different reps in varying degrees of difficulty.
When my limbs had turned to jelly and my stomach was resisting the urge to dry heave, Steven had Ryan and I step into the ring to face off against one another.
“I want to see your technique,” he said. “Some fighters have strength, some have speed, and others have stamina. I expect both of you to have all three.”
By the time the sun had gone down, I was dead on my feet. It was through sheer force of will that I kept myself standing. Ryan was lying flat on his back across the ring, panting so loud that it was almost comical.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “Fuck, that was brutal.”
“What did you expect?” Steven asked. “A massage and a bubble bath?”
“We’re going to do this every day?” Ryan asked with wide eyes as he forced himself into a sitting position.
“Every day,” Steven nodded.
“Fuck me!” he said, collapsing onto the ring’s floor once more.
I smiled and wiped my brow with a hand towel that was now soaked through. Steven stepped out of the ring, jumped down, and walked towards me.
“You did well today,” he said. “You certainly lasted longer than Ryan.”
I nodded.
“You have all three,” he continued. “Speed, strength, and stamina. You also have intelligence, which means you can easily be one of the greats – you just need more training.”
“I’m committed,” I said.
“I can see that,” he nodded. “It’s in your eyes. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I nodded, grabbed my bag, and headed out. I was in the locker when Ryan came through with his own bag. “You didn’t tell me you were leaving, asshole,” he said, plopping down on the bench next to me.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Where are you staying?”
“The program set me up with an apartment a few blocks from here,” I said.
“On Jamison and Elm?”
“Yes.”
“Nice,” Ryan nodded. “Same with me. It’s awesome that we get a place of our own, huh? And, we don’t even have to pay for it.”
I nodded wordlessly.
“So, you want to grab some dinner before we turn in?”
“I’m just going to get take out and head home,” I said.
“Oh.” I could hear the disappointment in his voice.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, grabbing my stuff and heading out.
I picked up some Chinese food on the way to the apartment and the smell alone was enough to sooth my aching bones. It would be the first time in a long time since I’d had a warm meal.