Brawl (11 page)

“Nothing happened,” I shrug. “Nate’s okay, but I’m not sleeping with him.”

Clapping her hands together, she throws her head back and laughs. I wait her out, knowing that she’s going to have something to say about my lack of action last night.

“Nate’s more than okay. He’s divine. Please tell me, you at least fucked the hottie with the eyebrow ring?”

Shaking my head, I grin at the annoyance that covers her pretty face. “Nope. I didn’t fuck anyone last night.”

“There’s a story. I can tell.” Amy picks up her mug again and stares at me over the rim. Understanding washes over her face after a moment. “The ice queen met someone?”

I ignore her, focusing my attention on draining every drop of coffee from my cup. Standing, I move to the sink and rinse it before stashing it in the dishwasher.

“You did!”

She comes to stand next to me. “Tell me what happened. Did he not meet your standards? Does he have a girlfriend?”

Leaning back against the counter, I grimace. The last thing I want to do is rehash what happened with Hooligan last night, however, Amy might just be the person I need to talk to. Zali’s no help, and it’s not like I have an enormous group of girlfriends to draw on.

“I don’t know if he has a girlfriend. All I know is,
I
didn’t meet
his
standards.”

“The man’s an idiot then,” she declares, raising her hands in the air. “Plenty more fish in the sea.”

Moving back to the dining table, I wait for her to sit down again as well. Once she’s comfortable, I fill her in on the initial rush that overcame me when I saw Hooligan and the connection that I thought I saw in his eyes until he dismissed me like I’m trash.

“The way he looked at me made me feel dirty. I’ve never been ashamed of how many men I’ve slept with before or the way I dress but he made me feel like a slut with one look.”

“Sweetheart, you’ve slept with, what? Ten, eleven men?”

“Nine.” I correct her, then smirk as I correct myself. “And two chicks. So yeah, eleven.”

“The chicks don’t count. That’s not sex, that’s experimentation.” Amy laughs before continuing soberly. “Honestly, that’s fuck all in the scheme of things. So, who cares what some guy thinks?”

“I do,” I bite down on my bottom lip, the same feelings that gathered when Hooligan dismissed me taking hold again. “Nine’s a lot for someone who’s only been having sex for a year.”

She shakes her head at me, the cross expression that’s covering her face telegraphing her displeasure with me. “Do you think I’m a slut because I’ve slept with over twenty guys?”

“No, of course not.” I respond straightaway. “Your fiancé died, leaving you with a kid to raise. You’re entitled to sleep with whoever you want.”

“Then why aren’t you? Honest-to-God, it’s two-thousand and fucking sixteen. Nobody gets to comment on your number or how you dress. As long as you’re not hurting anyone else, who gives a fuck who you sleep with.”

“True,” I concede. I’m confused about why I even care; it’s just that I can’t shake the notion that my first reaction to Hooligan meant something. I’ve never felt like that from just looking at a man before. Although, I probably pissed him off beyond repair with my little tantrum before I left.

“All right. This is what you’re going to do,” Amy declares, a big smile on her face. With happy eyes shining brightly and a sneaky smile curling her lips, she looks ready to take on the world. “You love all this fighting stuff? Like you have a belt and you’ve competed before?”

“Yeah, I have and I’ve always wanted to do more. I just don’t have enough time...not with Cooper and work.”

“But that’s the thing, Gabbi. Nate told me that the fighters made serious bank. Even the ones who lose earn thousands of dollars. What if you asked Hooligan to train you to fight? Then you could concentrate on art school and Cooper without worrying about money anymore. You could cut down your hours at the gym if you were making money fighting.”

Excitement grips me. “That’s a good idea.”

“And you can flirt with him while he trains you. Make him see the real Gabbi. Not the party girl you pretend to be when you’re hunting for a man.”

Screwing my nose up at her last sentence, I narrow my eyes and open my mouth to argue.
Why does everyone think I’m acting?

“I’m not—”

“Oh, hush now,” Amy chuckles after she cuts me off. “I know you think you’re some hardcore party slut but we both know that deep down you’re just a little girl who’s angry at Daddy. You use men to make yourself feel better.”

“I don’t—”

“Gabbi. Listen to me. If your dad hadn’t left your family in the lurch and your mom hadn’t turned into an A-Grade gambling whore because of that, I’d bet Max’s life that you wouldn’t even give me the time of the day. You’re covered in tattoos and always looking for a fight, or a fuck, because you’re pissed at your dad. Anyone who spends longer than five minutes with you and actually pays attention can see that the exterior is just your protective armor. Babe, underneath it all you’re the poster child for upper-middle class rebellion, except for one little glaring detail.”

My nostrils flare when I drag in a deep breath. Amy’s pushing it. With her comments coming hot on the heels of Jep’s last night, I feel as if the rug’s been pulled out from underneath me. If no one thinks I’m tough or mature, how am I going to pull off my plan of getting Cooper and Zali away from Mom.
I need my intimidation factor.

“What glaring little detail?” I spit my question at her from between grinding teeth.

“You wouldn’t be worrying about some guy you just met thinking that you’re a whore for sleeping with nine blokes.”

“Hardy fucking ha,” I fake a laugh. “You’re really annoying me today.”

Determined not to turn this into an argument, I twirl a finger in the air and quip with feigned nonchalance. “Subject change.”

“No, let’s not.” Amy drops the humor, her expression turning serious. “I’ve wanted to say this to you for a long time. I don’t care if you fuck every man you meet as long as you’re okay with it. If it’s just a way to let off some steam, then I’m all for it. But if it’s a way to prove something to your parents, then the only person who’s gonna end up hurt is you.”

Her frank words hit home and I can finally name the feeling that’s been assailing me since I laid eyes on Hooligan. He didn’t make me feel dirty, neither did Jep. It’s all on me. I’m beginning to judge myself.

“You’re right. I didn’t realize until right now but I’m kinda over picking up random men.”

My pussy twitches, reminding me that she’s lonely and not entirely on-board with my plan to give up on sex. She’d love to pick up a not-so-random man. Thoughts of bloody Hooligan and his muscled body lighting her fire at the moment.

“Well, there you go.” She laughs, thankfully oblivious to my lusty thoughts. “My work here is done.”

Rummaging around in her bag, she pulls out her phone and sighs. “Argh. I’ve gotta have Max at a birthday party in an hour. Time for me to get going.”

After yelling to Max that it’s time to go, she pulls me into a bear hug. As is my way, my body immediately stiffens. It takes me a moment before I loosen up enough to return her embrace.

“Make sure you speak to Nate about meeting with Hooligan. Doesn’t matter if you like him or not, this could be your ticket to easy street. I’ve seen you in action, girl. You’ll kick some serious ass.”

Amy’s reminder about fighting for Hooligan’s gym is timely. I’d forgotten about it, lost as I was in my moral dilemma. “I agree. It’s the perfect solution. And it’ll keep me out of trouble.”

After walking Amy and Max to the front door and waving them off, I head for the den. I don’t need to be at work until four this afternoon. Plenty of time for a nana nap before I need to get me and Cooper ready to leave.

I’m comfortable on the couch with Cooper lying on his bean bag engrossed in the DVD I’ve put on for him when Zali wanders into the room. In her hands are two huge bags.

“Hey, Gab,” she peers down at me and I see stubborn resolve in her scrutiny. Pushing myself upright, I wait for the bombshell. “Devon’s waiting in the driveway for me. I’m moving out today.”

My right leg starts to move as I bounce it in an effort not to argue with her. Going outside and belting her dumbass boyfriend isn’t going to stop her from leaving. If anything, it will make her more determined. I need to play this cool.

“You’re making the wrong choice—”

“No, I’m not,” she interrupts me. “I saw Mr. Sanderson here this morning and I can guess what was going on. Amelia’s one of my best friends. How can I tell her that her Dad is screwing
my mom
? I can’t live here anymore. I hate her. I’m happier when I’m with Devon. He loves me.”

“Zali, I want you to stay. For fuck sake, Devon isn’t the only guy in the world.”

“He is for me.” Dismissing my head shake with a roll of her eyes, my little sister walks over to Cooper. Putting her bags down, she squats next to him and ruffles his hair. “I love you, Coop. I’ll come and see you all the time.”

“Will you bring lollies?”

Trust Cooper to have his priorities straight.

“Of course, I will. All of your favorites.”

Nodding his head, he smiles at her before turning back to his show. “Okay. Have fun Zali.”

I follow her all the way to the front door, trying to talk some sense into her.

“I’m getting my own place when art school starts, why can’t you wait until then?”

“Gabbi, I want to be sixteen. I want to have fun; not look after my baby brother all the time and have to worry about stupid stuff like laundry and who’s cooking dinner.”

“That doesn’t even make sense. You hardly ever do that now.
I do it all.
Plus, who do you think is going to do all of that for you at Devon’s?”

Shrugging her shoulders, she ignores me as she walks to her boyfriend’s car. He winks at me, making my skin crawl, and then blows me a kiss when Zali is occupied with putting her bags in the backseat. It rankles and takes every ounce of self-control I possess not to give him the reaction he wants. If I get into a fight with him now, he wins. Zali will shut me out.

“Make sure you call me if you need anything.”

“I’m not going to need anything. Stop trying to be my mom,” she snaps at me as she pulls her seatbelt over her shoulder and clips it. Devon laughs so I flip him my middle finger and mouth “fuck you”.

“Okay. Okay.” I concede, trying my hardest to keep my growing anger out of my voice. “Just don’t forget, I’m always here if you need me.”

Devon throws the car into drive and screeches out of the driveway, drowning out Zali’s reply. A horrible feeling of powerlessness takes hold of me. She shouldn’t be going with him; he’s a loser. But how am I supposed to stop her? I’m just her big sister, not her parent—a fact that she delights in reminding me of constantly. I don’t have any control over her.

The two people who should be stepping up aren’t here. Mom’s still in bed while Dad is occupied with his new family. They’re off doing their own thing, leaving me to clean up the mess they created.

Hooligan

“P
ush through it.” I instruct Jep. “You can give me ten more for whining like a little bitch.”

He grunts unhappily, but gets on with giving me another ten military presses. Chucking his towel next to him, I signal one of my other trainers to take over watching. I need to head to my office to ring Nate. The little shit’s late, which is unacceptable although not entirely unexpected, after the way I left things with him after my fight.

I’ve cooled down enough to realize that I might’ve overreacted. After questioning Jep about what Nate did to Gabbi, I feel like an asshole for basically accusing him of sexual assault. My history makes me a little sensitive in that department and prone to flying off the handle without asking questions first.

Which is probably something I should work on.

“Hooligan.”

Speak of the devil. I halt my journey toward my office, turning in the direction of my nephew’s cheerful voice. I end up frozen on the spot at the sight that greets me. My heart skips a beat, flip flopping like a stranded seal in my chest, when I run my eyes over the girl standing next to him.

Gabbi is here.
In my gym.
Wearing a pair of workout shorts that look like a second fucking skin and a sports bra. After gawking at the toned legs and arms that she has on display, I’m staring like a fool at the large tattoo that covers one half of her six-pack when Nate coughs to get my attention.

“Ah, hey, Nate.” My voice cracks, like I’m a boy in the first flush of puberty. Clearing my throat, I try again. “You’re late. Training started twenty minutes ago.”

“I had to wait for Gabbi to finish. If you’d checked your phone, you’d know that I sent you a message.”

Chancing another look in her direction, I’m surprised to find a small smile on her face.

“Gabbi,” I nod my head in greeting.

“Hooligan,” she replies. The sultry tones that I heard on Saturday night are still present, making me think that her come-fuck-me voice is her natural cadence. She sounds decidedly happier to see me than she did when she stormed out of the basement, which I guess is an improvement. “I’m sorry to bother you but I wanted to ask you a question.”

With a quick glimpse at Nate, I determine that I’m not going to like her query. “What can I do for you?”

Fidgeting on the spot for a moment, Gabbi squares her shoulders and hits me with a serious expression. Her eyes flash with defiance, anticipating my rejection before she’s made her request. “I want to fight. I need you to train me.”

“I—”

“I know you don’t train girls. Nate’s already told me. But, I want you to make an exception for me. My sensei says I’m a natural and he always wanted me to fight competitively.”

“Then get him to train you.”

Shaking my head, I take a step toward my office. Nate should’ve known better than to encourage her to come here. I don’t train girls for various reasons—the main one being that I don’t think they should fight. Full stop. End of discussion.