Sunni
“What have I done?” I whisper to the cracked ceiling in my shitty apartment.
I slap my forehead, groaning out loud. Jag peeled back my layers one by one, shedding the final one last night. He brought me to life with a touch. My body still zings remembering the intricate way his fingers danced over my most sensitive part.
I told him I was married. I haven’t told a single soul that fact in four years since being on the run. Memories rush in a rapid flood…the good, the bad, the ugly. I wasn’t perfect, and neither was he. We both have our burdens of sins that rest on our chest. I had no other option but to run. My ex-husband was the king, and he played me like a well-worn puppet.
I fling the blankets off the bed and toss my legs over the edge. The freezing wood floor bites at the bottom of my feet. My head is a mess. I love it here in Washington. It took several long, grueling months to find a place I wouldn’t be noticed. I finally discovered Jerry and Jill, his wife, who run the diner. They didn’t blink an eye at my request to be paid under the table. The couple was in desperate need of help, and after I proved myself as a dedicated and hardworking employee, it cemented our relationship. They didn’t ask questions, and I kept my head down.
Last night obliterated the deal. Jag is going to push for more. Soon he’ll be expecting answers from me. It’s the natural progression of a relationship. My future disappeared the day I said “I do” to Satan in human form. The choices I made crushed my life into rubble. It’s all on me.
I walk to the bathroom, embracing the chill racing up my calves from the ice caps on the floor. It’s what I deserve to feel. The warmth and light from spending time with Jag was a short-lived vacation, and now it’s time to say goodbye to him.
I stare at the girl looking back in the mirror at me. A slight blush still covers her cheeks, and a flicker of hope lingers in her eyes. The corners of my lips tilt up at the sight of her. I tuck the memory of her deep in my heart, willing myself to never forget her. She’s just a mere glimpse of what could have been. A taunting reminder of what never will be.
Turning on the cold water, I scoop my palms full and splash my face, determined to wipe her away. The freezing temperatures of the water nip and bite at my skin, grounding and reminding me of what I have to do.
I have to tell Jag we are over before we truly ever began. My heart cries out in pain like I’ve never felt at the thought of it. There’s no other choice. It’s going to be brutal but something that has to happen. It will save him in the long run. Satan himself made sure that if I ever discovered happiness that he holds the cards to tear it to shreds. I refuse to let Jag be one of the pawns in this evil fucking game.
Warm, salty tears roll down my face as I grieve the loss that hasn’t even happened yet. Jag is out of town for the next three days. He was giddy, over-the-moon excited about an upcoming match. He’d asked for my cell phone number. I’ll never forget the shock on his face when I told him I didn’t have one. We decided on dinner after Tuesday night’s self-defense class.
I didn’t make it home until three in the morning. He opened up about everything that had him tied up in knots. His story made me fall even deeper in love with him. Yes, in love. I’m pretty damn sure I’ve been in love with the man since the second time I served him in the diner several months ago and he used a cheesy pickup line on me.
Jag’s childhood was heartbreaking, nothing a child should ever have to experience. Part of me was jealous of the fact he could talk about it. It was evident that the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders after he was forced to face his demons. That’s a luxury I’ll never have.
I glance back at the girl in the mirror, seeing the girl I know. Sasha Brown. The woman who can’t love Jag. The woman sentenced to a life in prison inside her head. She squares her shoulders, stares down the reflection, and comes to terms with saying goodbye to Jag.
***
My hand trembles against the metal on the door. I take in several deep breaths before opening it. The gym is full of action with a few fighters still scrapping in a ring and a group of women chatting, waiting for class to start. It doesn’t feel like a gym at all and more like a home.
My vision goes to the large, bold font on the wall. The vibrant teal letters pop to life off the black background. Three simple words that hold a deep meaning to living life—heart, fire, desire. I’ve seen the words on Jag’s workout bags and the back of some of his t-shirts.
A warm sensation creeps over my chest knowing Jag has an army behind him. He’ll be just fine after tonight. It’s me that I’m worried about.
“Sunni.” Layla bounces up to me, her arms wide open. “I’m so glad you made it. Jag must not have scared you off last time.”
She squeezes me in a tight hug. My arms dangle at my sides until my head catches up with me. I pat her back two times before she steps back. The most awkward hug in the history of friend hugs.
“I’ll be working Tuesdays for the next few months but wanted to come to one more class.” I tuck my hands in the pockets of my jacket in a gesture of stepping back.
“That sucks.” Layla’s shoulders sag. “That sucks, but I’m sure Jag will give you some private lessons.”
She winks at me, all too entertained with the idea of Jag and me. Before I have a chance to open my mouth to speak, Layla continues.
“I may be overstepping here, Sunni, but I have to tell you something. I have no idea how serious you and Jag are, but I do know one thing. The man hasn’t been himself for months and months, going on a damn year, until you. There’s other shit in his life, but it’s you, Sunni, bringing him back to life.” Layla passes and bends over, picking up her daughter pawing at her legs. “This past fight, he was unstoppable. Fought like the man he is. He had gone downhill fast, getting his ass kicked and then quit fighting, but if you could’ve seen him the other night, Sunni, it was just amazing.”
“It’s not…” I open my mouth to speak.
Layla cuts me off. “It’s you. He wouldn’t shut up about you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the man is in love with you. Whatever it is, keep it up. I’ve missed Jag, and now we have him back.”
“Wag!” Bella throws her chubby arms up in the air, lunging out of her mom’s arms.
I follow the direction of her cheering to see Jag strutting toward us. His smile covers his face with his bright white teeth on full display. He’s sweaty and happy. Black gym shorts ride low on his hips. His t-shirt is cut into a tank top. I can’t help myself when I see what’s on his black shirt—a white rooster with the word “GOD” in capital letters below it. It takes me a few seconds to put it together. The man deserves to wear the shirt from what I could tell by groping his rooster through his pants and the way he brought my body to life.
Layla sets Bella down. She races up to Jag with her fists balled up. They go through sets of punches and kicks. Warmth coats me from head to toe watching the two. Bella has that same gleam of love shining in her eyes for Jag as I do. Jag scoops up the little girl and tosses her in the air. Her legs and arms spread out wide while her chortle of laughter echoes in the gym.
Jag settles the girl on his hip and ruffles up her hair, skewing the perfect bow to the side of her head. Layla growls next to me, shakes her head, and then stomps off.
“There’s my other favorite girl.” He takes two long strides until he’s pressed against my side. He leans down and kisses my forehead as if it was as natural as breathing.
I don’t want to face it, but Layla is dead on right. Jag is a different person. I didn’t realize it until now. He’s not the broken man who’d come into the bar late at night. The limbs and roots of the circumstances in which I’ve found myself tangle, weave, and ground me in place. The ache in my chest grows, visions of the girl in the mirror haunt me, and I know there’s no way I can break this man.
The thing about secrets is they always find a way of coming out. I’m on borrowed time with Jag. A clean break now would be the best.
Jag sets Bella down, and we watch her race over to her grandpa, Boss. The little girl has every grown man in this gym wrapped around her little finger with her larger than life personality.
I’m pulled to Jag’s sweaty body as I watch Bella and her grandpa. His forehead drops to mine. His thumb brushes at my cheek. My knees go weak, and the tempo of my heart speeds up.
“You okay, baby girl?” He runs his tongue along the outline of my lips.
I nod, unable to speak. Everything that needs to come out bottlenecks deep in my throat. The need to run or leave this man erases with his presence.
“Killed me not being able to text or call you.”
“Heard you won your fight.” I reach up, placing my hands on his chest, grounding myself.
“I did.” He kisses me quickly. “And you know the only thing I wanted afterward?”
“No.” I clutch his shirt in my fists, afraid of the answer and knowing damn well what it is.
“You. I wanted you, Sunni.” He steps us back until my back hits a wall. He presses himself into my center, letting me know how much he wants me.
The honest answer flows from my lips in quick, hasty chops. “I want you too, Jag.”
“Let’s blow this popsicle joint, yeah?” He cocks his head to the side, nibbling at my neck.
“Don’t you have to teach?” I squirm underneath him. My skin is on fire for the man I can’t have, yet I’m tumbling further and further into a sinkhole. Jag not carrying a burden in the pit of his stomach is something nobody could resist, not even Mother Teresa.
He stands up straight, smirks, and then glances down at the logo on his t-shirt. “Baby, they don’t call me the cock god for nothing.”
And before I realize what’s happening, Jag grabs my hand and we are racing out of the gym. Our laughter glides down the street as we race hand in hand. I have no idea where I’m going, and for the first time in a long time, it doesn’t matter.