Yanna

Vlad woke me up at six AM and picked me up twenty minutes later, not even giving me the chance to say goodbye to Hawk properly. Then he made me do leg exercises all day, until I couldn’t stand anymore. My shoulder is almost back to normal, but I’d still rather not tax it too much. Vlad’s right though, I need to get my head back into the tournament and the best way to do that is train, train, train. Easier said than done though, since I’ve been counting down the hours until I see Hawk again more than I’ve been counting reps.

I told Hawk about Dima last night, told him all about the rest of my sad past, and I felt lighter than I ever had after that. I also felt more loved and protected than ever, while he kissed me and held me afterwards. I don’t want more training, I want more of that love.

But my next fight is in four days. It’s the last one before the final, the last one before my dreams can finally come true. That’s all I should be thinking about.

Me and Vlad have been pouring over the videos of my opponent Snake Bite’s fights for four hours straight now, and I’m losing focus on those too. He keeps pausing the video to give me pointers, but I’m also thinking a lot about all the things Ice told me last night. He was like a well of information about things I’ve only theorized on until now, and I’m still processing a lot of it.

“I heard it’s good to get angry and channel that anger into winning,” I say, not even sure why. “What do you think?”

Vlad was talking and I interrupted him. He fell silent and froze, and now he’s just looking at me like he’s not sure who I am.

“Anger and aggression are always just a short term solution,” he says. “They’re a great way to make mistakes.”

He’s told me this many times, and that’s why he’s speaking in that harsh, questioning sort of voice, which suggests I should know all this already.

“For example, a flash of anger at getting hit a certain way while off-guard could give you the rush of adrenaline you need to turn the fight to your advantage,” he elaborates. “But to win you need clarity. You need your mind and your body to be one and you need your reactions, your punches, kicks and blocks to happen with the speed of thought. I took you on as my main fighter because you always understood that instinctually.”

I shrug. “I do understand it and I agree. It’s what Dima taught me too. But I don’t know. Am I too predictable? The other fighters are watching my fights right now, analyzing them like we’re doing with theirs. And I am a very technical fighter and very easy to figure out. Don’t you think?”

I don’t think I would’ve beat Arm Rip if Hawk hadn’t showed me the value, the bliss and the pleasure of surrender, I’m still sure of that. And I’d tell Vlad, but it would involve having an intimate conversation and I want to avoid that. But the point is, I won that fight because I did something unpredictable, something I’ve never done before.

“I think your technique is nearly perfect,” Vlad says. “You still make mistakes, and your timing isn’t always perfect, but it’s near enough. I believe a well-trained technical style of fighting is unbeatable when done right. And you have something more than that. You have heart. You live and breathe the sport and it shows in your wins history. If you stay focused you will be the champion.”

I think this is the biggest compliment he’s ever given me, but I’ve been having my doubts and they grew bigger while I was talking to Ice last night.

“I do live and breathe fighting, but as for having heart, I’m not so sure. I don’t have the passion Snake Bite here has,” I say, pointing at the paused screen, which is showing a close-up of my next opponent’s face, which is a picture of wildness and passion and victory. “Or Anna for that matter.”

I’ll most likely be facing Anna “Shield Maiden” Andersson in the final and we spent a couple of hours studying her fights before Snake Bite’s. She’s another technical fighter like me. Cool and collected until she explodes. It could be the Viking blood in her, but whatever it is, it’s undeniably also passion. I don’t have that. It wins her fights, I’m sure of that, and it could prove to be the edge she has on me.

“You never doubted yourself like this before,” Vlad says. “What’s happening to you?”

I shrug. “This is my biggest championship to date, so it makes sense my fears and doubts are bigger too.”

“Well, I have no doubts or fears,” he says. “You’re ready to win this.”

I give him a grateful half smile.

“But I think that guy is messing with your mind,” he adds, instantly turning my smile into a frown.

“He’s not,” I say, kinda quietly since it’s not the complete truth.

“He’s just making me see things differently,” I add.

“He’s confusing you and breaking your focus,” he says. “And I wasn’t going to say this until I have more proof, but I think he’s more involved with the running of this tournament than he’s letting on.”

“He warned me about the Russians trying to fix it, and he’s sticking close to me to prevent them from doing so. That’s the extent of his involvement in this tournament,” I say defensively.

I don’t want to doubt Hawk. He’s done too much for me and he makes me feel better than I’ve felt in a very long time, maybe ever.

Vlad keeps looking at me sharply, but he’s not saying anything. His whole face suggests he has things to say though, that he knows things I don’t, and I don’t like being kept in the dark.

“Just tell me your suspicions,” I snap.

“I’ve had Igor follow him around when he can,” Vlad says, kinda sheepishly as well he should, since Igor is supposed to be his assistant and my promoter, not some sort of spy.

“He saw him and the tournament director having lunch the other day,” he continues before I can call him on it.

“He probably went to her to tell her about his concerns with the Russians,” I say. But why wouldn’t he tell me he did that?

“Or he met her to make an offer. Or threaten her,” Vlad says. “We don’t know. But what we do know is that he came out of nowhere with tall tales of someone trying to compromise the tournament, and ended up living in your house and sleeping in your bed. If I had to bet on who is most likely to be trying to fix the tournament, my money would be on him.”

“Except I’ve won every fight until now,” I say. “I even won the only fight I was sure I might lose, and that was because of him, not in spite of.”

That was an awkward thing to say, since the last thing I want to talk about with Vlad is my sex life. I hope he doesn’t ask for an explanation.

“Just be careful, Yanna, that’s all I’m saying,” Vlad says. “You’ve worked so hard for this. Don’t blow it because a pretty stranger smiled at you.”

I get up and zip up my hoodie all the way to my neck, like that’s gonna protect me from this sudden cold I’m feeling inside. Vlad has a good point. A very good one. While I don’t want to hear that Hawk might be playing me, that doesn’t make it impossible.

“I’d like to go home now.” I say.

“Yanna, I just want what’s best for you, and—”

“I know you do, but I’m tired and hungry, and I don’t want to discuss this anymore,” I say tersely. “Take me home now.”

He sighs, gets up and doesn’t say anything more for the whole ride back to my house. I’m more confused than I ever remember being when I enter it, but all that fades when I see Hawk sitting at the kitchen table.

How can that smile he has for me be anything but genuine? It’s so warm and it makes me feel so good. How can it be fake? It can’t.

* * *

Hawk

I was supposed to meet the guys hours ago, but I wanted to see her first. I’ve never been good at controlling my impulses or waiting until the right time to make things happen, and now, as I watch her in the kitchen doorway, smiling at me as I smile at her, I don’t want to leave her side at all tonight.

That urge gets worse as she walks over to me and wastes no time before straddling my lap, making the chair groan, but not as hard as I do as she kisses me. Her hair falls around us like a waterfall, sealing us in a cave removed from the rest of the world as our tongues and our lips tussle. She kisses hard, fast and deep, the way she does everything else, and I like that about her, but I’ll need to teach her slow too. Her hair smells like flowers even after a full day or practice, and she herself smells delicious all the time, and tastes even better.

My dick is so hard it hurts, and she’s grinding against it, her pussy just a couple of layers of fabric away, which is making it worse, or better, depending on how you look at it. We have time, we have all the time in the world. Just not right now. I’m almost in the foggy state of mind where nothing else but having her matters, and she’s the first woman who’s ever put me here so successfully…usually it’s only some job or hacking project that can do it. Maybe we do have the time right now.

But the guys are waiting for me, and if I let this get any further, they’ll have to wait all night. Besides, I don’t want to fuck her and leave, which has also never been a problem for me with any other woman.

“I have to do something tonight,” I tell her during a pause. Her lips are swollen and glistening and the longer I look at them, the more impossible actually leaving starts to seem.

“To me?” she asks playfully and goddam me, but I almost say yes. There’s no end to the list of things I still want to do to her.

“A job,” I tell her and watch her face fall. “But I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“You have to go right now?” she asks, kinda sad kinda playful.

I shrug and nod. “I should’ve left two hours ago, but I wanted to see you first.”

She smiles at that, then leans in and gives me another kiss, slower this time, even deeper, pretty much perfect, leaving me wishing I could delegate tonight’s ride like I’ve done all the others.

But I can’t. So I stop the kiss and nudge her off my lap. She gets up and walks over to the counter, leaning against it seductively, her pussy jutted out towards me and her lips sparkling.

“Alright, so go,” she says. “If you must.”

She’s smiling, so I know she’s not really upset, but I’m still almost telling her that I don’t must leave at all.

Even though I do.

“I’ll see you later,” I tell her. “And don’t worry, someone’s gonna make sure the Russians don’t come here while I’m gone.”

She pales, the smile gone from her lips. Damn it, I didn’t mean to scare her and leave her thinking bad things. But that’s just one of the ways I’m not good with women.

She smiles again though, her face brightening up like the dawn, even her green eyes shining like dew covered leaves. “Thanks. Now go, before I forbid it.”

I laugh at that, she’s so uncouth and bossy, yet so soft and sweet at the same time, and it’s a combination that shouldn’t work, but it does, seamlessly, like a charm.

“Alright, alright, I’m gone,” I say and smile at her one last time and leave.

That took forty-five minutes, so I’m almost three-hours late. But damn it, it was worth it.