Authors: Bella Wild,Bella Love-Wins
Johnny
Charles stopped the car. We had arrived at the bar. “We’re here.”
I opened the door and stepped out, offering her a hand, which she took. She hopped out, and we walked into the bar. The place was practically empty, which is exactly why I liked it. We found a booth near the bar. She slid in on one side and I sat across from her.
“Evening,” a middle-aged woman greeted us from across the room. “I’ll be right with you!”
I nodded and turned back to Amanda. Her eyes moved from the entrance to the tiny hallway to the restrooms, then she turned to look behind her.
“Keeping an eye out for the stalker?” I asked when she faced me again.
“This place would be a whole lot safer if there was another exit behind us.”
“Why?”
“If and when trouble walks in one door, the idea is to have another door to go out.”
“And what if trouble walks in the back way?” I teased.
“You’ve got eyes too, right? We can watch each other’s back. Hold on. I’m going to check for an exit.”
“Don’t bother. I already know where it is. The kitchen has an exit to the alleyway out back.”
“Ahhh. Okay I feel better already.”
The woman who greeted us came over. I ordered a pint of beer, and Amanda asked for water. She insisted on not being under the influence tonight. Once the woman left, I noticed Amanda’s gaze fixed on the TV above the bar. I turned and noticed it was a men’s MMA fight playing.
“Are they any good?”
She shrugged. “I’ve heard of them, but I don’t know their records. I don’t follow much of it anymore.”
The server came back with our drinks. Amanda grabbed her water off the tray and took a big gulp before the server got the coaster set on the table. I held back a smile as I caught the woman’s eyebrows shoot up.
“A little thirsty?”
“Yes. I’m used to hydrating more, but it’s hard remembering to keep on top of eating well and getting in my fluids these days.”
I nodded. “I can help remind you.”
“All right.”
“And I think it’s time I get my own personal assistant. I’m tired of Kevin treating you like his very own lapdog when his assistant isn’t around.”
“I like the sounds of that,” she said with a laugh. “Seriously though, I don’t mind too much. It’s just, he’s so demanding and ungrateful toward me. I don’t see him treat anyone else that way. It’s pretty demoralizing, to be honest. I don’t know what I’ve ever done to him…”
She looked past me again, her eyes back on the fight playing out on the big screen.
I put a hand over one of hers. “You haven’t done anything. Try not to take it personally. He’s being over-protective of me. He was this way with my first set of band members. Anyone who appears to detract from his master plan is a threat in his eyes.”
She took another long sip of her water, draining the glass this time. Her hand gripped the glass after she put it down. I was afraid if she tightened her fist any further, she would crush it until it broke.
“Amanda, what’s going on?”
“Nothing, I’m good.”
“No, you’re not. Tell me what’s going on,” I demanded.
Her eyes snapped to mine, lit with a strange new look I could not identify. I waited for her to unload on me.
“I’m fine. Just leave it alone, okay?”
Her gaze roamed around the bar again. I grabbed her hand. “Amanda, you’re not fine. Just talk to me. We can leave if you’re not feeling well.”
She stared at me, her eyes boring into mine. I didn’t back down. After what seemed like a few minutes, she broke the intense gaze, and looked down at the tabletop. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what my problem is right now. I’ll be fine.”
“You can talk to me. You know that, right?”
She nodded, still staring at the table. “I do.” Silence fell. She straightened up and took a deep breath. “Do you want to know why I became a fighter?” Her voice was low and unsteady. I leaned in closer to hear her. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time. Go on.”
“All right. My parents divorced when I was young, and at first mom had custody. She rarely let me see him. She had one boyfriend after another, and most of them were not very nice to her. None of them paid any attention to me. It was like I was invisible. She would leave me alone, a lot, to go on dates. Or lock me in my room, if she brought them back to our place.
“Anyway, one night, when I was fifteen, she had this guy over. They started arguing, and he beat her up pretty bad. I heard the noise, and when I came out and saw him hitting her, I got really angry…almost blind with rage. I rushed in the room to help her. I don’t know how, but I pinned the guy on the floor and punched him so hard in the face, it broke his nose.
With all the commotion, one of the neighbors had called the cops. By the time they got there, the guy was long gone. My mom refused to press charges against him, so the cops left. But you know what did me in? She screamed at me for breaking the guy’s nose and chasing her man away. Can you believe that? The guy gave her a black eye and two bruised ribs, and she was mad at me…
“That was when the rift between my mom and me opened right up. I went to my grandmother’s house after school the next day, and begged her for my dad’s number. He had moved to two towns away, and when I told him what happened, he came and got me. He was just as enraged as I was, and threatened to find the guy and whoop his ass. Those were his exact words.” She smiled briefly. “Anyway, he enrolled me in a new high school when I moved in with him, and signed me up for the wrestling team. I was the only girl, but I didn’t care. And it turned out I was great at it. I could beat every boy on the team. None of them dared to make fun of me.”
She lifted her eyes from the table and stared at the game on the TV. The waitress came by, refreshed Amanda’s water, and left again. When she reached out for her glass, I noticed her hand was shaking.
“I don’t hate my mother. Really, I don’t, because Dad made up for it in spades. He was amazing. Years later, I realized she had probably acted that way because she was afraid. Afraid of being alone. I made two promises to myself after that happened. First, that I was not going to let myself get so desperate to have a man in my life that he could dare lay a hand on me and get away with it. Second, that when I had kids, I would never put anyone ahead of them.” She looked at her glass again. “Well, I can’t do anything about the kids part. I wanted to be a mom, you know? A good one. It was just as important to me as being in the MMA. And both were taken away from me on the same night. I thought I still had time…”
I saw a tear roll down her face, and she brushed it away quickly.
“I’m so sorry, Amanda.”
She blinked a few times and waved me off with her free hand. “It was a long time ago.”
“I can’t even imagine…any of that.”
“I’m fine. I’m stronger because of it. My dad would say that all the time before he passed.”
I searched for the right words. All I could come up with was, “That isn’t something that goes away.”
“It fades.” Her walls were back up, possibly higher than before. Her body language closed her off—her arms crossed, she turned her body slightly, and her eyes were transfixed on the TV screen. All of it told me she was emotionally off limits again. I clung to her hand. She didn’t try to pull away. It was a small comfort.
“Thanks for sharing that with me. I wish I knew the right thing to say.”
She nodded and took a sip of her water. Her eyes floated back to the TV. “It’s weird now, watching these fights. That was my whole life once. And really, it wasn’t even that long ago. I would keep up with every fight, I knew every fighter, memorized all their stats…both men and women. Maybe it will be good to get back to that place.”
“What do you mean?”
She shifted her gaze back to me. “When this job is done, I have an interview to be a commentator on the MMA circuit for a cable network.”
I reared back in my seat. I knew nothing about her plans after the tour. There were five more events, and then she would be released from her contract and could walk away. She had no reason to stay once it was done, but I had imagined I could convince her to stay. For us.
“Well…that’s…great,” I finally replied. Each word was tougher to get out than the last.
“I think so.”
“Amanda, what is it that you really want?”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean, what do you want to do? I thought you wanted to start your own security firm. Now you’re talking about this TV gig. I guess I’m asking where your heart is.”
She hesitated, taking her time to sip some more water before answering. “My heart was in that cage, Johnny. That’s where it got left behind.”
There was nothing I could say to that.
“We should be getting back, don’t you think?” She made a production out of checking the time on her phone, avoiding my eyes.
“Sure, we can go. I’ll go settle the tab.”
I slid from the booth and she walked to the door as I paid at the bar. I sent a text to Charles and he replied that he was waiting outside—he had gone to grab a bite and figured he would stay close for when we were ready. I sauntered to Amanda, standing at the door. There was an anxious pit in my stomach from her news. I offered my hand and she ignored it, putting an arm around my back and bringing my offered hand over her shoulder.
She tucked herself into my side and looked up at me, smiling. “Ready?”
I nodded after a beat. She felt so good next to me, I set aside her news and took my own advice—I was going to be with her. In the moment, for the moment. We could figure out the rest.
We stepped out into the night air. Charles was double-parked, so we went right to him. I helped her into the back of the limo before sitting beside her. She came in close again, and I put my arms around her.
She looked up at me. “You want to know something?”
“Yes.”
“I feel I can talk to you about everything.”
I nodded. “Me too.” Although I was lying, unable to tell her how disappointing her news was, that she already had plans in place to leave me in a few weeks. Of course, I had not quite told her she was my one obsession for the past three years. I resolved to stop at nothing to make her want to stay in LA with me. I was not sure exactly how to pull it off, but with three weeks left, there was plenty of time to make it happen. And somehow, coming clean about the three-year fixation had to take place soon…really soon.
The hypocrisy ate at me. She had shared what I felt was the saddest story I had ever heard, yet I was holding out about following her MMA career and setting the stage for her to work on this tour. I needed to tell her, and all of a sudden it could not wait. There was a possibility she would take it badly, but I had to take the chance now. Waiting any longer…it would be so much worse. She would never trust me again if she found out later.
“Amanda,” I started.
“Yes?”
“There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Okay. What’s up?”
Her phone went off in her purse, and mine vibrated in my back pocket right afterward. Shit. The timing of these calls sucked. She found hers quickly and answered. I looked at my phone screen. It was Larry’s number. I had programmed it in so I could accept their calls whenever they tried to reach me.
She pulled the phone from her ear and pressed her other hand hard on my thigh.
“Don’t bother answering that,” she said. “Fred’s on this phone. He says there’s been an attack.”
“What?” I shouted. “An attack on who?”
“Kevin.”
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