Yanna

Just as he promised, Hawk did all he could to make the final fight of my tournament happen, and he succeeded. He also succeeded at changing my fighting name from “Cat Fight” to “Tigress” just like I’ve always wanted to do, but couldn’t on my own. He figured changing my name would remove me from what happened with the Russians at my house even more, and give me a fresh start.

When he told me the final fight was back on, that I’ll be facing Anna from Sweden in a title fight on December 26^th at the Arena, I didn’t believe him. Not with all the rumors about my ties to the Russian mob floating around. I even lost some of my online fans over those rumors, but many more stayed and kept right on supporting me. And with the way Hawk’s helped publicize the fight, there will be like a million people watching it, and I’ve already gotten so many sponsorships, I had to turn some down. I’ve gotten thousands of new fans too.

You always have to let go of the old to truly let the new in. I always thought that letting go and losing those you love was a terrible thing, something to be avoided at all cost, but Hawk showed me the truth of it, the glorious beauty of surrendering to the new. The last seven months I’ve spent with him have been better than the best dream I’ve ever had, and it’s still going strong.

Only now, as I stand in the dressing room getting ready, the crowd so loud I can hear it all the way back here, do I truly understand that the fight is on.

“I should probably get outta here and let you get your focus on,” Hawk says, grinning at me from over by the door, where he’s been watching me braid my hair.

I walk up to him, grab the front of his shirt and pull him to me for a kiss. That’s the only thing that’s been missing from the perfection that is this moment.

“Don’t you dare go anywhere,” I say breathlessly once I get my fill of him and can’t take anymore for the moment. “I need you right here.”

I can’t believe I ever thought of him as a distraction. He was always the missing piece in my life, and I hope I’m that for him too. That gleam in his eyes, and the way it is when we’re alone, the way we complement and complete each other, the way my heart beats faster when we’re together and the way his heartbeat matches mine, tells me it is.

“Alright, good,” he says and kisses me again, taking control, making me wish we could be alone and naked together right now, making me yearn for it.

But I can wait. Because I can do anything, as long as he’s waiting for me at the finish line. Anything at all.

Even if I lose tonight’s fight—which I don’t think I will—I’d still have won. I’ve already won. Because I have my life and my freedom and I have him. He’s the home I lost so long ago. He’s the love I thought I’d never have. He’s the victory that trumps all other victories.

“They’re chanting your name in there,” he says, breaking away from the kiss and grinning at me, his glistening lips just an inch from mine, and so maddeningly enticing, I truly don’t want anything other than another taste of them.

“Go,” he says and smiles wider. “I’ll be right here when it’s over.”

And that’s all I needed to hear. All I ever needed to hear. He’s my home and I’m his. All the rest, that’s just the cream, just the icing on the cake.

* * *

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