Shattered (14 page)

I couldn’t bear to think about our impossible
situation as Anderson carried me home. My mind was blank, a vast
plane of endless confusion. For the rest of the night, I lay in bed
and refused to think or to speak. Anderson tended to me as best he
could. He brought me a meal that went untouched by the foot of the
bed, and he dressed the shallow cut on my throat and treated me
with kindness and respect, as always. But I could see the anger and
the despair behind his caring eyes.

He wanted to know who attacked me. He wanted
to get even. I could tell that he was furious that he wasn’t able
to protect me. All of his life, his only purpose was to protect the
people closest to him. But despite his best efforts, his mother,
father, and brother, had all been taken away from him. He feared
that I would be taken next, that much I could see. I was moved
beyond belief that he counted me among those people he wanted to
protect, but I couldn’t bring myself to accept that place in his
life.

How could I ask Anderson to keep me safe, to
validate and protect my life, when all I’d done for him was ruin
the best thing he had going for him? How could I expect him to give
up everything in order to protect me? I would never be able to live
with myself if I knew that I’d cost Anderson his fighting career.
Even if he gave it up willingly, I feared that he’d begin to resent
me. Maybe not overtly, maybe not at first, but deep down inside,
some part of him might hate me for it. I couldn’t stand the
thought.

As I lay in bed, silent and removed, my mind
roamed through my options. I could stay with Anderson, let him quit
or be kicked out of the fighting league, and wait to see where we
stood. Of course, if I chose that route, I might not live long
enough to find out what our future held. My attacker had promised
to finish me if I didn’t stay away from Anderson. I was probably
already pushing it by letting him take care of me. For all I knew,
my attacker could reappear and finish me off any day now.

The only other course of action was to leave.
I could slip away from Anderson’s home while he was out training,
return to my shabby little apartment in Alphabet City, pack up and
go home to my family in Ohio. I could admit defeat, face the fact
that New York City was too much for me to handle, and go crawling
back to my parents. I could swallow my pride and admit that I
wasn’t special enough to lead an exciting life. I could say goodbye
to Anderson and never, ever look back again.

Was it better to stay, risking both our
lives, or leave, knowing that I’d never love anyone the way that I
loved Anderson Cole? When I was honest with myself, it was love
that I felt for him. Not just lust, though the things he did to my
body were unimaginably wonderful. It wasn’t just the glamour or the
sex appeal that kept me in Anderson’s world, it was the fact that I
cared about him deeply, in a way that transcended mere physical
attraction. I loved him for everything that he was, I loved the
damaged past that lived within him as much as the strapping fighter
that stood before me. And because I cared about him so much, I came
to the heart wrenching and unspeakable conclusion that I had to let
him go. If I stayed, I’d be killed, and Anderson might never
recover. If I left, he’d be furious, but he had a chance at being
happy again. It was the only choice.

I continued to hold my tongue, even as my
strength returned. Anderson was so relieved to see me recovering
that the anger and fear receded from his eyes. He asked me over and
over again what had happened, who’d attacked me, and I told him the
truth—I had no idea.

The next morning I nibbled on the food
Anderson brought me, managed to take a long, hot bath, and began to
plot my departure. Anderson walked in to the bathroom and sat down
on the side of the tub. He was shirtless, his muscles tensed with
worry. He brought his hand to my hair and let it travel down the
length of me, soothing my coiled nerves.

“Good morning,” he said softly, tucking a
lock of hair behind my ear. “Did you sleep OK?”

“Yeah,” I murmured, savoring the feel of his
hands on me, trying to memorize the exact weight and pressure of
his caress.

“Did anything come back to you in the night?”
he asked. I’d been having nightmares about the attack, recounting
the episode again and again while I slept.

“No,” I lied once more.

“Can you remember anything they said?”
Anderson pressed, “Anything at all?”

“I told you,” I said, sitting up beside him,
“They didn’t say anything. They just grabbed me, held the knife to
my throat, and tossed me out the back door. It was probably just a
random act.”

Anderson’s gaze bored into me—I refused to
meet his insistent look. If I let him look into my eyes for too
long, he’d be able to tell that I was lying through my teeth. I
hadn’t told him all that my attacker had said. I couldn’t bear to
have him feeling guilty about the episode. Yes, I’d been attacked
because of my relationship with Anderson. But he didn’t need to
know that for sure. He had more important things to worry
about.

“Are you ready for the next fight?” I asked,
dying to change the subject.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Anderson said,
bringing himself up to his feet.

“This is the big one, right?” I asked, trying
to stay chipper.

“This is the big one,” Anderson confirmed.
“Marco and I are the only undefeated fighters in the league. Our
match will decide this year’s champion.”

“Were you the champion last year?” I
asked.

“I’ve always been the champion,” Anderson
said.

“So for the other guys,” I said, “The guys
who lose. Does everything just reset for the following year?”

A cold look passed over Anderson’s face.
“No,” he said quietly, “Nothing’s reset. Nothing’s forgotten. Once
you lose a match, you’re done. A new batch of fighters steps up the
next year. Placing second isn’t an option. Second place is just the
highest ranked loser. That’s the way it’s always been. I either win
the next match or I’m finished in fighting, forever.”

“There must be other leagues,” I said, trying
to be helpful.

“They’re all interconnected,” Anderson told
me, “You lose a fight in New York, you can be sure that every major
fighting ring will know about it and you have to start at the
bottom again. It's better just to retire at that point.”

“Oh,” I said, averting my gaze. Everything
Anderson was telling me only reinforced my resolve to get out of
his life. This was the most important match of his life coming up,
and I couldn’t take the chance of being his bad luck charm once
again. Even if he didn’t believe that it had been my fault, the
guilt would eat away at me for the rest of my life. And based on
what my attacker had told me, the rest of my life probably wouldn’t
last that long, should Anderson get unseated as the champion of the
league.

I watched silently as Anderson dressed for
the gym. My exhausted, closed-off body crackled to life as he
tugged down his boxers and stood naked across the room from me. His
broad back and shoulders, slender waist, and rock solid limbs were
perfectly balanced. His every muscle bulged and flexed with the
tiniest movement. I wanted so badly to dig my fingers into those
hard biceps, run them along his well-shaped thighs and firm ass. I
wanted to feel his lips on mine, opening my mouth to his. I felt
myself growing warm and wet between the legs as he threw on his
workout clothes. When he turned to me, I tried to tamp down my
desire. The last thing I needed to do was remind of myself of what
I’d be missing once I left.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Anderson said,
kissing my forehead. “Do you need anything from the outside world?
Anything at all?”

“I’m fine,” I said, smiling as convincingly
as I could.

“Just take it easy while I’m gone,” he said,
“I’ll see you when I get back.”

“Goodbye,” I said, knowing that it might very
well be for the last time. Anderson smiled and turned away from me,
and I felt my heart straining at the seams as his footsteps faded
away and the front door slammed. I let the hot tears roll down my
cheeks as I pulled myself out of tub and quickly began to gather my
things. I refused to take the items Anderson bought for me since
I'd started staying over. I didn’t want to have any reminders of
him once I was gone. I dressed quickly, grabbed my phone, and
headed for the door.

I couldn’t spare the apartment a parting
glance as the elevator doors slammed shut. How could I look upon
that sacred space where Anderson and I had come together time and
time again in blissful lovemaking? No surface was safe from
memories, that was for certain. We’d left no corner of that
apartment unexplored in our few fleeting weeks as lovers. I
wondered if any man would be able to compare to Anderson in that
way? It seemed very unlikely. For the rest of my life, I’d have to
live with the second best men I could find. The highest ranked
losers, as it were.

Anderson’s doorman smiled and waved at me as
I tore across the lobby. I ignored the man and burst out into the
city. The sunlight stung my eyes, the noise of the traffic and
pedestrians threatened to overwhelm me. I decided not to return to
my little apartment in Alphabet City. Anderson might go looking for
me there when he found me gone from his apartment. I needed to get
as far away as possible. I knew that if Anderson came looking for
me, asking me to come back with him, it might be impossible to
resist.

I turned my steps toward Penn Station. There
was enough money in my wallet for a one-way ticket home, I knew. My
parents would surely be startled by my return. I tried to find
comfort in the idea of being home with them, safe and sound. But
wouldn’t I seem like a stranger to them, having been through all
that I had? Would they even recognize me as their daughter? It
would have to remain to be seen. They were all I had in the world,
after all. I’d have to make due, or else risk starting over
entirely alone.

As I descended the steps into Penn Station it
felt like traveling lower and lower into hell. I pushed past eager
tourists and hyperactive children toward the ticket kiosk. The
harried woman behind the counter handed me a train ticket and waved
me away. I found a seat on a cold, hard bench and waited. Swarms of
people surged around me, moving at breakneck speed through the
underground terminal. I’d never felt as lonely in my life as I did
in that moment. Who knew that loneliness can strike the hardest
when you’re absolutely surrounded by people? If New York had taught
me anything, it was that.

I nearly jumped out of my skin as I felt my
cell phone begin to vibrate against my thigh. I slipped the gadget
from my pocket and felt the air rush from my lungs. Anderson’s name
was glowing loud and clear on the screen. And though it probably
would have been better to simply let the call go unanswered, I
couldn’t help myself. I didn’t want him worrying about me, after
all. It was time to come clean, to tell him everything that had
happened the night of the fight. He had to understand why I needed
to leave.

“Hi,” I said faintly in the phone.

“Where the hell are you?” Anderson demanded
angrily.

“I can’t tell you that,” I said, holding my
ground.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, “You
can’t just wander off without telling me! Not in your condition. I
left my wallet at home. When I came back to get it, you were just
gone! Do you have any idea how scared I was? Why would you do that
to me? What was so urgent that you decided to just get up and leave
without telling me first? For god’s sake—”

“I’m going away,” I interrupted him.

“You’re...what?” he said.

“I’m leaving New York. For good,” I said, my
throat tightening as I struggled to speak. “I don’t want you to
come looking for me, either. This is it.”

“Kaela,” Anderson said, panic tugging at the
edges of his voice, “What are you saying? Why would you leave? I
thought we...I thought you...I don’t understand.”

“It’s for the best,” I said firmly, “I’m
doing this for both of us. I know that probably doesn’t make any
sense, but—”

“You’re damned right it doesn’t make any
sense,” Anderson said, “How could living without each other be
what’s best?”

“I’ve been keeping something from you,” I
said urgently.

“What is it?” Anderson asked.

“Last night when I was attacked,” I said,
“The guy did tell me something. He said that I wasn’t allowed back.
He said that he’d kill me if he ever saw me at a fight again.
Anderson, someone doesn’t want me to be with you. Near you, even.
If I’d stayed with you, they were going to come for me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, baffled,
“I could have done something. I can protect you, Kaela.”

“But you shouldn’t have to,” I said,
“Fighting is who you are. And I was messing it all up for you.
You’d never been taken down before I showed up—”

“Come on,” Anderson said, “That’s
nonsense.”

“Is it?” I asked, “When was the last time you
had a fight that was nearly as close as the last couple? The ones I
watched?”

A long moment of silence passed on the line.
“I could give it up,” Anderson said finally.

“No,” I said, “That wouldn’t be fair to
you.”

“That’s for me to decide,” Anderson said.

“You love fighting,” I reminded him.

“I love you more,” he said. My blood ran hot
through my veins, bringing a blush to my cheeks. He loved me. He
finally said it.

“I love you too,” I told him, “And that’s why
I have to leave.”

“Kaela—” he said, but that’s all I heard
before I hung up the call. My shoulders began to shake as sobs
threatened to tear from my throat. I had to stick by my
convictions. I had to get out before it was too late. Anderson
might be furious in the moment, but he would forgive me someday,
when he realized I’d been right all along.