Chapter 23
Valentine
Past
“Oh my God.” I ended the call with my new agent, Michelle, and fell into my sofa. I was amazed and awestruck. I had just found out that I was cast in the lead role of The Burning Game! This was huge! After several long, hard years, I'd finally made it. I couldn't wait to tell...
Why did I still think of him first after my many failures and too few victories?
Still, his name was the first in my head, even while I was with other boyfriends. All of those boys were mistakes thrust on me by my father. I had friends too, but they mostly just came to parties with me. None of them really knew me as well as Arsen. I doubt I would've even liked any of them if I'd met them in high school.
Arsen probably would've made some kind of joke about my head being too big to fit through doors now that I was a celebrity. For as angry at him as I still was, I hoped he was ok. I wished I could just get over him, but a big part of me was glad I couldn't.
I had met so many famous people, and none held a candle to Arsen. I knew I would never meet anyone like him again. All I could hope for now was that his hold over me would eventually go away.
Or, that someday he might come back to me.”
Present
I made my way into what looked like an abandoned warehouse. I had no idea what the dress code was at one of these fights, so I tried to appear as nondescript as possible. Michele would've given me so much hell if I was recognized here. I wore a large dark hoodie and the plainest jeans I had, the look reminded me of the clothes I wore back in high school.
A well groomed, clean shaven man stood by a stairwell that led further down. He reminded me of a bouncer, like at a club. His head was down, browsing something on his phone. I paused, making as little noise as possible. I was all alone in a really, really bad part of town, heading into an illegal fighting club.
Run away before he sees you!
My anxiety threatened to overwhelm me. I'd never done anything like this before. What should I even say to the man? Was there some sort of code word I had to give him to get in? I should have asked that bartender more questions!
He snapped his gaze up at me, carefully looking me over. “You looking for something?”
“I—” I swallowed the lump that rose in the back of my throat and forced myself to answer. I needed to say something. 'It's all just acting,' Arsen's voice echoed in my memory.
“Yeah,” I said, feigning confidence like I belonged there. “I'm here for the fight.”
“There's no fight here.” He eyed me skeptically, then went back to his phone. “Sorry.”
What? There had to be! This was the location Arsen had written down and it was way too sketchy not to have something going on. This had to be the right place.
Part of me was relieved. I tried, didn't I? I could leave knowing that I at least made the effort. Besides Arsen left me, not the other way around. Maybe he wanted to be left alone. Dozens more excuses crowded into my frightened mind.
Did he really want to be left alone after his father died?
No. I came here for a reason.
“Don't fuck with me, asshole.” I couldn't leave until I saw him.
“Excuse me?” His head shot back up. Well, that got his attention.
“I came for the glass fight.” A steely reserve filled my tone, it sounded like I belonged there. “How much is it going to cost me to get in?”
The bouncer eyed me for a moment, not letting on if I convinced him or not. Then he stood aside and told me.
I handed him the money and brushed past him. I heard the cheers echoing up the stairwell when I reached the next landing. A few hundred dollars was all it took to watch a man get beaten to death. This was Arsen's world, the thought made me shiver.
Soon after that I saw the crowd standing around a filthy, blood streaked circle. All I could make out from my obscured vantage point was that there were three men fighting, each of them stained red and glistened in the hard fluorescent light.
I couldn't immediately make out who was fighting right away, it was just a mass of limbs and grunts. My stomach knotted and twisted with the sound of every sickening blow that landed. The cheers that followed made me sick. I pushed closer, praying that I made it in time.
Please let that not be him in there. Please, please, please, let that not be him!
I broke through the throng of smoking and cursing businessmen and found myself at the edge of the circle.
And there was Arsen.
A kick to the back of his legs, dropped Arsen to his knees. He was shirtless and so horribly bloody. I was queasy at the sight of what happened to him, it made my heart ache worse than it ever had before.
“He lost! Let him go!” My scream was lost in the chaotic din of blood lust. No one heard me or no one cared.
“That's not how this works.” A fat, suited man next to me laughed at my naivety, cigar smoke billowed from his nose and mouth.
A fighter raised Arsen's head for crowd approval. The other fighter readied a strike and then I suddenly realized what the fat man meant. There was no forfeiting.
Oh my God... I was about to watch the man I love die.
“Arsen!” I screamed with desperation.
Arsen looked right at me, his eyes looked dull and dazed. He smiled at me, letting the hand drop from over his heart. He was giving up.
His hand wiped away some of the blood on his chest and that's when I saw the tattoo. I thought he was protecting his chest from some blow, but it wasn't that at all. An image of the pendant I gave him was tattooed over his own heart. How had I missed that until now? He told me he lost it.
In the last few moments of his life, he was thinking about me.
He needed my help, how could I possibly give up on him now?
“Arsen, It's me Val! You need to get up!” I tore off my hoodie and brushed the hair back out of my face. I was still a well known celebrity who was about to become infamous.
I heard the men around me say my name in disbelief. A few pulled out their phones and began taking videos. My career just took its second big hit of the day. There was no hiding my presence now, tomorrow it would be all over the news. The crowd's previous uproar fell to a near deafening silence. Even the other fighters seemed surprised, but not enough to let Arsen go.
I was hoping that the shock of me being there would somehow give me the power to stop the fight. I walked out into the circle, but a dark, rough hand grabbed my wrist and stopped me.
“The fight continues,” said the heavily accented, black man who had me by the wrist.
Of course, just being here wasn't enough, I felt so stupid! What else could I do for him? I had to try something! And then I remembered... I was his good luck charm, he never lost when I was at his matches.
“Get up, Arsen! Fight for me!” My words were loud and unmistakable.
Fire sparked in Arsen's eyes as his lucidity returned.
Arsen brutally lashed out. He struck one of the distracted fighters directly in the balls. The man who held Arsen's hair collapsed in a quivering heap, blood running down his inner thighs. The other fighter hopped away and got his guard back up. This fight wasn't over yet.
Arsen's muscles went taught, he looked like we was made of solid steel. Arsen moved, blocked and countered each blow with strength and confidence. Where my heart had stopped earlier, now it raced out of control.
I'd never seen him look so powerful before. Gone was the beaten down Arsen of moment's earlier, now a man with something to fight for stood in his place.
Arsen narrowly avoided an extremely quick uppercut, then countered with a heavy knee, that caused his opponent to double over. Arsen delivered a mean right cross that knocked the man out immediately.
Arsen had won.
I rushed up and hugged him, not caring about the blood that ruined my T shirt and pants. I wiped away the blood and sweat from his face and I kissed him with the desperation of someone reuniting with a loved one they thought was dead. Arsen groaned in pain, but refused to let me pull away from him.
I hugged him again, looking out over the dumbfounded crowd. 'Aren't they related somehow?' 'I think that's her brother.' Speculation ran wild all around us, but neither of us paid it any attention. Despite the catastrophic damage I'd done to my career, when Arsen kissed me, I truly felt like everything was going to be alright.
In the back by the door that led to the staircase back up, I saw an eerily familiar silhouette. I did a double take, but I was right. There in the back of the crowd, eying me angrily, was my father.
What the hell was he doing here?
I knew he was in LA shooting his own film, but him coming to an underground fight didn't make any sense. He was gambling again How desperately did he need money if he was at a venue like this?
For a moment, I thought he might run up and scream at me for destroying his legacy, but then I saw the amount of phones aimed at me and knew that he wouldn't dare. He'd never want any evidence of him at a seedy place like this.
I stared back at him defiantly, my back straightening. I wanted him to see me like this, I was done apologizing. I was proud to stand with the man I loved, regardless of the consequences.
“Say it again.” Arsen said, pulling my gaze back to someone worthwhile.
“Say what again?” I helped Arsen out of the hot lights and the slick, blood stained fighting circle.
“Tell me you love me, Val.” There was a twinkle in the eye that wasn't too swollen.
“You are such an idiot. What were you thinking? You almost got yourself killed!” All my balled-up emotions flooded out. I could've lost him forever, the thought terrified me. “And if you ever do anything this foolish again, I will never have sex with you ever again!”
Arsen just smiled, “I love you too.”
“Let's get you to a hospital, 'Arsenal.'” Despite my anger, he managed to pull a small smile out of me. My anger dissolved into just relief that Arsen was alive. I dragged my fingers gently over the tattoo of my heart pendant on his chest, it even had the V in the middle. “I'm yours remember? I'll always love you.”