Worth the Fight (MMA Fighter 1)

She smiles at me from across the room and I can’t help but feel the first glimpse of light I’ve felt in days. I watch her as she gets closer and see her face falter when she gets a good look at me. I look like shit. I haven’t shaved since before the fight and my eyes are dark from sleepless nights. I’m pretty sure I’ve been wearing the same shirt for at least thirty-six hours and I’m wondering if I might also smell too.

“Hi.” I see the concern in her eyes when she reaches me and speaks.

“Hey.”

“Figured if I didn’t ask, you couldn’t tell me not to come.” She smiles at me apprehensively and it makes me want to reach over and kiss her so hard she’ll never doubt I want her near me. But I don’t. Instead I stand like an ass**le and say nothing and just nod my head as if I can comprehend what is actually going on in that beautiful head of hers.

“Preach, do you mind if I steal him for a little bit?” She turns to the bastard that was chewing me out a minute ago, who is now all smiles for her.

“By all means, take him. You can keep him for all I care.” The second part is mumbled under his breath as Preach walks away, but we both hear it.

“Can we go upstairs and talk?” Her voice is low, sweet.

I nod and lead the way. I pull down the gate to the elevator to my loft and suddenly it’s just the two of us and the car feels small. She smells so damn good. Everything about her is good, unlike me. I hate myself for wanting her so much, even though she deserves better.

Elle puts her purse on the kitchen counter and takes a few minutes before she turns around to face me. But when she does, she looks nervous.

“I want you to talk to me. You won’t let me in.” Her voice is shaky, but when I look at her she squares her shoulders and digs deep for whatever she is working towards.

“I don’t want to talk Elle.” What does she want me to tell her? That I need time to sort out the demons in my head? The demons that I deserve to haunt me every hour of every day for the rest of my life?

She takes two steps toward me, stopping just in front of me. “I can help… and there’s grief counseling…and groups to help people going through things like this.”

My response is a sardonic laugh and I can see immediately it’s the wrong reaction. Elle’s face quickly changes from concerned to pissed off. She crosses her arms in front of her chest and it looks like she is ready for a fight.

“You think it’s funny that I want to help?”

“No I think it’s funny that you think you can help.”

“I can help. But you have to let me.”

“Elle, run while you have the chance. You can’t fix me. I’m not some project for you to take on like charity. You’re better off with someone who is more like you.”

Here eyes widen to saucers. “More like me? What does that mean? William? Is that what you’re telling me, I should go back to someone like William?” Her voice is growing louder with each response.

The mention of William’s name from Elle’s lips strikes me harder than any physical blow. The thought of that pretty boy anywhere near my Elle makes me froth at the mouth. I’m angry. Angry at just hearing her say the words. But maybe that’s really where she belongs.

“You want William, Elle?” Seething, the words make me sick to even her myself say them.

“I want you. I want to help you, damn it!”

“You can’t help me, Elle. I’m f**king broken. I killed a man. With my own two hands, I took another person’s life. Only a monster does that. A monster that will rot in hell. It’s where I f**king belong!”

“It was an accident!” We are screaming at each other now. Completely and totally screaming at the top of our lungs, each trying to get our point across by yelling louder.

“It was my hand that dealt him what killed him. That’s not an accident, it’s murder. And murderers are unredeemable.”

Elle looks up at me and she’s pale as a ghost. For a second I think she might pass out.

“You really think there’s no forgiveness in what happened?” She’s no longer yelling, her voice is low and breaks mid-sentence.

“Forgiveness from who, Elle? The only person that could grant me absolution is dead.”

Tears are streaming down her face as she runs out of my loft and rips the elevator door down. I watch as she frantically presses the button to make her escape. She’s desperate to get away from me, and I don’t blame her one bit.

Chapter 36

Elle

I have no idea how I even made it home. The tears blurred my vision so badly, I could barely see. Panic seizes me as I think about how much worse it could have been. The only saving grace is that I never got to carry out my plan to tell Nico why I can help him, what makes me so uniquely qualified to understand what he is going through. I sob as I recall his words over and over in my head, “It was my hand that dealt him what killed him. That’s not an accident, it’s murder. And murderers are unredeemable.”

I don’t know why I thought we were the same. We’re not. I’m so much worse. Yet, he thinks he’s a monster for what he did…and what happened to him was truly an accident. Unlike me. I’m the one who is unredeemable. If he hates himself so much for what he did when he didn’t intend for it to happen, what would he think when he found out about me? Mine wasn’t an accident.

I’ve suppressed emotions for so long, that it’s like a dam breaking when the tears start to come. They flood me like raging waters. Uncontrollably, I cry and cry until I finally feel like I’m drowning and sleep takes me as I surrender, my mind hoping to find peace at rest.

“You stupid whore. I told you not to go running to your sister’s house again.” My father grabs a fistful of my mother’s hair and yanks with all his might, sending my already frail mother across the room. The pot on the stove makes a loud clank as she hits into the stove. My mother’s face is already black and blue from last time and her nose is probably broken. Although she can’t be sure since she stopped going to the doctor a few years ago. Doctors ask too many questions.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find you, you worthless cunt? I’ll always find you. When are you going to learn your f**king lesson?” My father takes two long strides toward my mother and she folds her body into a ball to protect herself, bracing for what she knows is inevitable. I watch as he rears his leg back and kicks her in the side with all his might. Her body falls to the side, but she’s still huddled into a ball, her tiny arms straining to cover her own head.