Conner

 

“I know what you’re about to do. Don’t. I’m ignoring him, and I want you to as well. We don’t need any distractions, Conner.” Willow gripped my face and pulled it to hers, after I’d stared him down.

“Fine.” Anger surged through me. I took two full breaths, tamping down the urge to kick the shit out of Richard’s son each time he ogled Willow.

“Fine?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” I gritted my teeth.

“Don’t get testy with me. I’m only looking out for you. For us.”

“Me letting an asshole eye-fuck my girlfriend isn’t what’s good for us.”

“You’re being dramatic now.” She rolled her eyes.

I pointed to my chest. “I’m being dramatic?”

“Yes. You are. Preston’s doing the same thing to Lena. Look.” She nodded toward the crowd, where Steele and Lena sat with the rest of the media and TV personalities who were waiting for the pre-interview to begin.

“Not to sound like a dick, but I don’t care about Lena. I care about you.”

“Stop being a baby. Now, go out there, do your job, win the fight, then take me home, okay?”

“This isn’t over.” I turned my back before she could smart off. I knew my girl was only looking out for me, but unfortunately for her, twerps acting like perverts were one area I didn’t need any help. He was going to stop, or I was going to make him. I didn’t give two shits that his father was my boss. I’d already signed the contract, and it was iron-clad. If Richard wanted to go that route, then I’d lawyer up. But his spineless son was going to focus his attention on someone else, and I planned on making sure of it.

The interviews had gone as planned. They began by asking mundane questions about how each of us had prepared for the fight. And while they pretended to expect an answer they’d never heard before, both of us disappointed them by sticking to the same response every athlete always gave: hard work, sleep, and eating a healthy diet. I hadn’t felt the need to elaborate on the fact that I’d just gone weeks without seeing my girlfriend, and I was ready to demolish anything and anyone blocking my path for getting us back home; back to our lives together.

My opponent, Kyle Richman, had been in the pro-circuit for a little over a year. He obviously had more experience than my two fights, but I had more to lose. Taking care of Willow was my main priority, and I wasn’t about to let him, or anyone else stand in my way.

Three hours later, I entered the cage, focused on annihilating Richman. I wanted it over with as soon as possible. I looked to the crowd, searching for Willow. I smirked when I saw that she was seated next to Phyllis, my biggest fan—if her homemade signs and dedication to showing up to every fight were any indication. Hell, Phyllis waited after every bout for an autograph. But she hadn’t received one until my last two fights, and most of that was due to the fact that she’d punched my fiancé in the face. Given that my gracious girlfriend was able to laugh about it now, I felt like I owed the old broad for supporting me from the beginning.

Richman came out swinging. I’d been accustomed to waiting, being patient for the perfect opportunity to get my opponent on the ground, but there would be none of that with him. If I waited too long, he’d wear me out. I knew he was probably in better shape; he was barely breathing, and I was beginning to struggle. My breaths were too quick, causing me to take in less air. I remained composed, looking for any sign that his footing would be off.

His next punch landed right to my jaw. I heard it crack, then excruciating agony surged through the bottom of my jaw bone. I closed my eyes tight, trying to push the pain away, so I could refocus. Richman didn’t give me time to create a thought. He saw my discomfort, and turned it on. One, two, three, jabs to my ribs. A second strike to the side of my head. His kicks were repeated over and over, like he was working out at the gym with a bag. I took all of it, trying to regain my composure, when I heard the bell.

Thank God. A little reprieve.

“Do you need medical?” Steele asked.

I shook my head.

“Conner, your jaw is swollen. If you keep going it could mean permanent damage.”

“I can’t quit,” I mumbled.

Steele nodded, understanding my stance, but worried for my well-being. I got it, I did. But I would never give up on a fight. If they wanted to call it, they could, but not because I told them to. I’d deal with my jaw when it was over.

I figured Richman would get a little cocky, considering he was fighting the most talked about rookie in recent years. Rookie being the key word. I knew his ego would carry him farther and farther away from reality, once he thought he would win. And just like I thought, he began to stand taller and move slower, working the crowd for show. That was my opportunity to gain leverage, and I took it.

I had him on the ground and in a choke hold before he knew what was happening. I squeezed once, and he flopped around, attempting to get loose. I squeezed a second time, feeling the air being forced out of his mouth. A third pulse from my forearms was all it took, before his neck lulled to the side, letting me know he was unconscious. The referee was down on the mat, his face fully focused on Richman, and within a second, he had the match called.

Victory.

I let go, forcing myself to my feet, relieved, even though my face was throbbing. It almost felt like a vein had been cut off, blocking it from supplying my jaw with blood. But I didn’t care in that moment. My status in the AFL remained undefeated. I had known the whole time my contract wasn’t completely contingent on the wins, but I felt like I deserved the million dollars more with each win I placed under my belt.

I made a beeline for Willow, pushing through the security I had placed around her.

“I’m so proud of you, babe!”

“Tha—” Fuck! Pain shot all the way up to my brain. Sharp, short stabs of stinging started just below my ear, then like a bolt of lightning, branched all the way to my temple.  

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

I pointed to my jaw then made a breaking motion with my hands. Her eyes grew, indicating she’d been surprised and worried at the same time. That was the last thing I wanted. I brought her head into my neck and kissed the top of it, even though the movement hurt like hell.

Once we’d made it out from the crowd, I was able to relax. The on-call doctor looked me over, indicating that I would have to go to the hospital. It wasn’t something I hadn’t already known. I spent twenty minutes trying to calm Willow down, using whatever sign language and expressions I could think of. Talking was out of the question.

The doctor taped me up and released me, giving me the opportunity to walk out on my own. That beat the hell out of a stretcher any day, so I took it. I grabbed Willow’s hand, tugging her down the tunnel and past the flashing lights. I didn’t speak a word to any of the reporters begging for answers to stupid questions they felt the public wanted to know. Lena and Steele brought up the rear.

“Let me drive you,” Willow said as we got to the truck.

I shook my head, and winced.

Once we arrived at the hospital, Willow took over like a mother hen. She filled out my paperwork, spoke with the nurses, and advised the doctor on what medications she didn’t want me to have.

I smiled on the inside, as my girl tore through the room we’d been assigned, like a tornado, making sure everything was perfect for me. She taped newspapers to the windows, and closed the curtains, leaving no room for a close call. No one could see in. She sent Lena out to get my favorite snacks, even though I couldn’t eat any of them. And Steele was assigned to keep the press off our trail. Willow made him swear he would tell them I was in the best shape of my life.

I didn’t understand why she was going to so much trouble for the press. I didn’t give two fucks if they knew Richman had broken my jaw; I won the fight. But she didn’t want my name in the press for the slightest thing, and that included being in the hospital for surgery. I let her have it. She wanted to take care of me, and I had to admit, it felt good being taken care of.

When I woke up after surgery, Willow was sitting on the side of my bed, holding my hand. She’d been there the whole time, I felt it. The love she gave me unconditionally moved me. It made me feel like I could take on the world, one giant step at a time. It made the reconciliation with my mother mean more. It made my friendship with Steele deeper. The conviction I felt, knowing I’d always have her by my side, brought out a nurturing side to me I hadn’t thought existed. Her love made me want to be a father, which was something I’d always feared.

How could I rear a child, when I wasn’t able to take care of myself for so long? My perception on parenting changed when I found her. I realized that making a child together, giving that child equal parts of myself and the woman I loved, the woman I cherished and respected above all others, would be the epitome of love. It would be a blessing to be brought up in that kind of home.

Looking into her eyes, knowing I was about to pass out again, I tried with everything I had to tell her I loved her, but I couldn’t get anything to come out. She smiled and kissed my forehead, like she’d read my mind.