You are a survivor
“Sia? You ready to go?”
Jess walks into my apartment, and her steps slow when she sees me sitting on the couch. “I thought you were packing up the stuff you were going to sell at your mom’s garage sale.”
“I can’t do it.” I haven’t moved from the couch all morning. Instead, I’ve spent three hours staring at the painting of Ray’s motorcycle and wondering if I made the right decision four weeks ago when I let him walk away.
Not a day goes by that I don’t imagine that I see him on a street corner or hear his voice in a café. Every time the bell rings in the tattoo parlor, my heart jumps, hoping it’s him. I can’t watch the Discovery Channel without bursting into tears, and I haven’t touched a potato chip in weeks.
“What about that?” She sits beside me on the couch and gestures to the painting. “It’s beautiful. You caught a side of him I’ve never seen before. But if it’s going to make you catatonic for an entire morning, maybe it should go.”
Frowning, I glance over at Jess. “How did you know that red streak was Ray? Even he didn’t know.”
Jess shrugs. “You love color.”
“Well, it’s not finished.” I ball my hands into fists in my lap. Jess has a way of poking where I don’t want to be poked. “If I’d caught his real nature, maybe I would have run away when I still had the chance of not getting my heart broken.”
She gives my arm a squeeze. “You and me both. Tag is totally withdrawn. I haven’t seen or heard from him in weeks. I thought we’d made some progress in the hospital, but I guess he just needed a friend.”
Immediately I feel guilty for not giving her the attention I know she needs. Although she called it quits with Blade Saw after she and Tag became close when I was in the hospital, I think she’s come to the end of her rope.
“I’m sorry.” I draw in a deep breath. “I haven’t been a good friend these last few weeks. It’s just…the pain won’t go away. I thought it was part of the PTSD, but my new therapist says it’s grief. She says I lost someone I love and it doesn’t matter whether he died or walked away, I still have to grieve. I just wish she would tell me how long. This last week, I’ve been bursting into tears at the stupidest things and I’ve totally lost my appetite. When I do eat, I feel like throwing up. It seems to be getting worse, not better.”
“Then why don’t you just forget about selling this stuff?” Jess says, waving her hand at the pile of easels and paintbrushes outside my hall closet. “There’s no burning urgency to get rid of it. Your mom is planning to have a sale every week until they’ve downsized enough for their new condo. We’ll just put it all back, and when you’re ready, you can sort through it again. I think you’re making an emotional decision that you’re going to regret.”
With a sigh, I push myself off the couch and pick up the painting. “I loved him.”
“I know you did.”
“I never loved anyone like that before.”
Jess sighs. “That’s why I stopped the whole loving thing. It fucking hurts.”
* * *
Duncan and Christos are both tidying up when I arrive at Redemption later that afternoon. Slim is in Rose’s chair, pounding away on the computer. He gives me a wave and I stop at the desk.
“You doing Rose’s job now?”
“My last day. I’m doing all the things I wished I could do. And I’ve just realized I was overpaying Rose. This job doesn’t require a whole lot of skill.”
“You were paying her for her people skills, not her typing skills. She gets people in the door. She makes them happy to be here. And she makes them happy to pay. You can’t put a price on that.”
Slim laughs. “Very true. That’s why I’m going to focus on what I do best. All art. All the time. And no young bucks like Torment trying to push me around.”
The bell rings and I look up just as our long-lost artist, Jay, walks into the shop. It’s been over two months since I’ve seen him, and he looks thinner, his long, sandy brown hair messier, and his thin face even more peaked than usual. He’s wearing a beaded hemp shirt, torn jeans, and a pair of flip-flops. So not Redemption style.
He gives us a sheepish smile and shrugs. “Hey.”
Slim and I share a glance. Then Slim folds his arms and leans back in Rose’s chair. “Hey? You leave us to the mercy of a vicious street gang and over two months later you walk in and all you can say is ‘hey’?”
“Yeah.” Jay scratches his head. “I heard they shot up the shop. Sucks. But I had to get them off my back, so I told them I lived in the apartment above it.”
Slim grits his teeth. “Sucks indeed. What are you doing here?”
Jay stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Saw the sign on the door of your old place that you’d moved here. Since I never really quit…just took a bit of a break, I thought I’d…um…just get to work.”
Duncan gives a snort and Christos mumbles, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Jay’s mouth gapes, and he looks at Slim. “If that’s…okay.”
“Don’t ask me. Ask the boss.” Slim points to me.
I look at him aghast. “I’m not the boss.”
“Are you seriously going to turn down Torment’s offer?” Slim says. “You’ve got what it takes to run this place. Everyone likes you. They respect you. You’re a talented artist. And you have a way with people that puts them at ease. Wasn’t that your dream?”
“I had a lot of dreams.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “So melodramatic. Redemption is full of dreams just waiting for you to grab them, and they don’t all look like a rough fighter who would move heaven and earth to have you.” He gestures to Jay and then winks at me. “Come on, Boss. At the very least, make my dream come true.”
My lips twitch, and then I scowl at Jay. “You’re fucking fired.”
* * *
Priority: Confidential
Bay Area Underground Fight Club (BUFC) Fight Night
Underground parking lot. 543 Marine Drive. 8 p.m.
Headlining: Fuzzy vs. Devastation
Also on the card: Petis Pois, Jackhammer Jones
Code Word: Cataclysm
“Are you going to the fight?” Jess’s nose wrinkles when the waitress serves my double cheeseburger tofu deluxe. We’ve found a new place for lunch only four blocks from Redemption. The Kosher Vegan Steak House boasts that even a meat lover won’t be able to tell the difference between their tofu burgers and the real McCoy, so I’m putting their claim to the test. So far, so bad.
“No.”
“Not even to see Tag?” Her voice rises in pitch, and I sense a guilt trip of epic proportions coming on. “He’s your brother. And look what happened the last time he fought. He needs our support.”
Nausea roils in my belly as I contemplate the food in front of me. This was a bad idea. I won’t be able to keep it down. And only this morning did I figure out why.
“I thought you were done with him. Again. Why don’t you go out with Rampage? He’s funny, nice, loves to gossip, but has good alpha, protective instincts. He’s also cute, has a good sense of humor, and can leap tall buildings in a single bound.”
Jess sighs. “I can’t go out with Rampage. He’s a friend. Plus, my dentist’s third cousin’s sister’s husband’s brother just broke up with his girlfriend. My dentist thought we’d be perfect for each other. I told her to go ahead and set up a blind date.”
“You look thrilled.”
She toys with her spoon. “How is Tag, by the way?”
“Tag never talks to me.” I push the burger toward Jess and lean back in my seat. “He’s totally consumed by this case he’s been working on. I thought it was bad before I was in the hospital, but now it’s ten times worse. He calls every few days, asks if I’m okay. I say yes. He says ‘good’ and hangs up. He doesn’t even come for Sunday dinner.”
“Are you going to eat that?” She points to the burger and I shake my head.
“I haven’t been able to eat anything except bread and crackers.”
Jess’s eyes narrow. “Not even potato chips?”
Emotion wells up in my chest. “Oh, Jess.” I reach into my purse and pull out the plastic bag with the pregnancy test I took this morning and shove it across the table. “I missed two pills and then I was in the hospital for the next few days and totally forgot.”
She stares at the little pink cross and then slaps her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God. What are you going to do?”
“I want this baby like I’ve never wanted anything before,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Twice in my life I thought I was going to die, and this was something that would never happen. This baby is a gift I never thought I’d have.”
Her eyes tear, and she reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “I’ll be with you all the way. You’re like a sister to me and I’m going to be the best auntie ever. And you know your parents and Tag will be thrilled. But are you going to tell Ray?”
“I don’t know.” I crumple my napkin in my lap. “He doesn’t want to be with me, Jess. He thinks he destroys everything he loves and he thinks he failed me and that I’m safer without him because of what he does and who he is. And he’s right. I couldn’t go through that again. How do I know someone else from his past isn’t going to pop up and try to kill me? He couldn’t keep me safe. And he never told me the truth about who he is. I didn’t even know his last name.”
Jess purses her lips and huffs out a breath. “You’re my best friend and I love you like a sister, but you’re being crazy. You love him. He loves you. You’re having a baby together. Yes, he’s got a dangerous job. But so do a lot of guys. And of course you don’t want to go through that shit again. But guess what. You did go through it. Not once but twice. And you survived. You’re a survivor, not a victim. I watched you go through it before, and I’m watching you go through it now, and there’s a huge difference. And do you know why?”
Shocked by her impassioned speech, I just shake my head.
“The difference is that this time you had justice. You had closure. It was all there, out in the open for everyone to see. It wasn’t buried in the shadows, eating away at your soul.”
“You sure you’re just a vet’s assistant,” I say, “and not a psychologist in disguise?”
Jess just laughs. “I’m a best friend and I’m still in love with your brother and I hope one day I’ll be Auntie Jess for real.”
* * *
“Look at this place.” Jess grabs my arm as we push our way through the crowd in the underground parking lot of a derelict apartment building on Marine Drive. “I’ve never seen a BUFC so busy. Who is Devastation? He’s a real crowd-puller. Look! Even Torment is here.”
“That’s not a good sign.”
When I spot Amanda and Shayla in the crowd, I grab Jess’s hand and drag her toward them. “What’s going on?”
“Devastation broke his wrist,” Shayla says. “The organizers asked Fuzz if there was anyone else he wanted to fight, and he named the Predator.”
I look at her aghast. “He can’t fight the Predator. He’ll be slaughtered.”
“The Predator accepted the fight.” Amanda stands on her tiptoes and waves Jake over. “He’s been moping around my office for the last few weeks, so when he said he had a fight tonight, I was happy he would have something to pull him out of his funk. But when I found out he was going to fight Fuzzy, I tried to convince him to drop out, but he wouldn’t do it.”
“Can’t Torment stop it?” Jess, still in total awe and fear of Torment, breathes out a sigh as he cuts a path through the crowd with the ferocity of his stare.
Shayla shakes her head. “Underground has its own rules. Only thing Torment can do is threaten to ban the fighters from training at Redemption if they decide to participate.”
“I think that’s his plan,” Jake says, coming up behind Amanda. “He’s worried about Fuzz. We all are. He’s just not been himself lately.” He looks at me. “Do you know what’s wrong?”
“He won’t talk to me.” I drop my voice so only Jake can hear. “Redemption is the only thing in his life outside of work that keeps him going. If Torment bans him, I don’t know what he’ll do.”
“If he steps into that ring with the Predator, there won’t be much he can do.” Jake’s voice tightens and then drops low. “Ray’s wound up like I’ve never seen him before. I don’t think he’ll be able to pull back.”
A whistle blows and the crowd gathers around the makeshift ring in the center of the parking lot. The air is thick with the scent of gasoline and cigarette smoke. Floodlights have been set up around the perimeter, but there is nothing on the ground to cushion a landing if the fighter falls hard. Already the organizers have had to drive three fighters to the hospital. I hope they won’t be driving any more.
Tag steps into the ring wearing a pair of red fight shorts. I am momentarily stunned by how lean he is. Although not fat, Tag has always been solid. But he’s not solid anymore. Although his muscles are well-defined, his skin doesn’t seem to sit right on him, and he looks gaunt and pale. He’s not my Tag anymore.
A murmur in the crowd heralds the Predator’s arrival and I hold my breath waiting for my first glimpse of him as he climbs into the ring. Over the last few weeks, I have imagined every inch of him, touched every part of his body, held him in my arms. But when he steps into the ring, he takes my breath away. He’s even more beautiful than I remembered. Emotion wells up in my throat. I miss him so much I ache inside.
The ref stands between them and holds up a red flag, but before it drops, Ray holds up his hands and gestures Tag to the side of the ring. I push through the crowd until I’m close enough to hear but behind Ray’s back, unable to be seen.
“I’m not gonna fight you, Fuzz,” Ray says, keeping his voice low. “I’m here so you wouldn’t fight anyone else.”
Tag startles and then growls. “You aren’t getting out of this fight. No one leaves the ring unless they tap out or can’t tap out.” His voice rises to a shout. “You almost got Sia killed. I trusted you to protect her. I gave her to you, and you let us both down. You hurt her, betrayed her, and lied to her. You broke her, and I’m gonna make you pay. For once in her life, she deserves real justice.”
A sob rips from my throat. “Tag. Please. Don’t do this.”
Ray spins and sees me. His jaw tightens and his eyes turn to ice, sending daggers through my heart.
If Tag heard me, he doesn’t acknowledge my plea. He and Ray join the referee in the center of the ring, and the moment the flag drops, Tag charges and hits Ray with a right uppercut. Ray’s head snaps to the side, but he does nothing to defend himself. Tag hits him again in the face and then in the chest, his punches hard and fast—relentless.