Alpha Fighter (15 page)

“I’m going to kill you, boy” he thunders, eyebrows scrunching together in his wide, lined forehead.

“I don’t see it,” I taunt, staying on my side and making him come to me. As soon as he’s close enough, I throw a punch. He blocks it, returning with a jab. I block it, twisting around and blocking with my left arm while punching with my right, slamming into the top of his cheek with the satisfying crunch of bone under massive force. He roars like an insulted bear, blood trickling down his face, and comes for me. But I hold my ground, blocking and jabbing and throwing punches and roundhouses right and left. I catch his arm as he comes for me, twisting it behind his back and body slamming him into the ground, pinning him to the ground with an elbow-knee hold. He strains against me, but I push harder, twisting his arm up tighter against his back until he roars in pain.

“All the juice in the world and you still can’t scratch me,” I say, watching as he turns red with the signature Cooper classic of rage and pain that my opponents all get the chance to enjoy. I’ve got him firmly in my grip, so I look up again to see my girl watch me fight. I frown. Savannah still isn’t back, and unless the concessions line is moving at goddamn turtle pace, it’s getting worryingly long. 

Where the fuck is she?

Carl takes advantage of my momentary lapse of attention to slam his oversized head back into my chest, throwing me back and off of him. I need to focus. I turn my thoughts away from Savannah and focus back on Carl as I hop back up to my feet and get in fighting stance. I’m not going to get myself killed up here because my girl takes forever powdering her nose, or whatever it is women do for hours in the ladies’ room.

Savannah

I
have my legs tucked up to my chest as I perch on the toilet seat, like I’m hiding. I know it’s unnecessary, and ridiculous, since no one else is even in the bathroom, much less anyone dangerous. Everyone is out in the stadium, eyes fixed on the ring. I have second row seats with a perfect view of every move that Cooper and Carl make, but I’m hidden away in the bathroom, sitting on an uncomfortable, cold toilet sheet and shaking like a crack addict in a withdrawal crisis.

My dreams are disintegrating at lightning speed before my eyes. Just when I thought I was in the clear. Just when I thought I was finally having some good luck. Just when I was finally letting myself believe that a happily-ever-after future with Cooper, my very own sexy Prince Charming, could actually happen, reality comes up like the little bitch that it is and bites me in the ass.

How could I be so stupid? How could I not have put two and two together and figured that this would happen, or at least realized that it was possible, before I came upon the fucking poster in the hall? Just minutes ago, I was blissfully unaware of the danger I was putting myself in by being Cooper’s girl. When I got up to the go to the bathroom, I didn’t expect any of this. I didn’t expect anything when I glanced over at the posters advertising upcoming fights. At most, I thought I’d see a photo of Cooper, shirtless advertising his next match. Instead, I saw Nate.

Not in flesh and blood, but I’m shaken almost as if I had seen Nate for real. Seeing his face on a poster, advertising a match here next week—not against Cooper, but still against a fighter in his league—sent me crashing back down from my cloud nine of warm fuzzies faster than I would have thought possible. 

Nate fights in Cooper’s league. That’s it. Just like that, I lost the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. I lost Cooper.

I can’t be with Cooper now. There’s absolutely no way in the world that that’s a possibility. All of my imaginings of a future together depended on us flying under the radar for a long enough to get our stuff together, save up, and move somewhere far, far away—like California, or maybe even Hawaii—to start over. But with Cooper and Nate fighting in the same circles, it’s only a matter of time until they bump into each other. Hell, they might already know each other, for all I know! If Cooper and I stay involved with each other, it’s only a matter of time until Cooper finds out about me from Nate—or, even worse, Nate finds out about me from Cooper.

My blood runs cold at the thought and I think I’m going to be sick. If Nate finds out about me from Cooper, Cooper’s life is fucked. I can hardly bear to consider what would happen, but I have to. And besides, I know too well what would happen. Nate would get Moreno thugs to back him up and, hell, probably Santos ones, too. They would come hunt Cooper down and kill him, or worse. They would hunt me down and make me rue the day I walked away from Nate Moreno and tried to step out into the world as my own woman.

I have no choice. My castle in the sky dream of a happy future with Cooper went up in smoke the moment that I saw Nate glaring down at me from that poster, and now there’s only one option if either of us wants to have a future.

I have to get out of here. I have to stay far, far away from Cooper. I can’t stay here with him, or we will both die. I can’t run away with him, because the moment that I tell him who I am, he’ll recoil from me in horror. Who would want me, Savannah Santos? Who would want the marked one, the one with whom sex is a death sentence and romantic entanglement is idiotic? No one. And not Cooper, either.

I can feel the tears building behind my eyes as I think about that. No, no, I can’t be rejected by Cooper. I can’t, not by him! He’s the one guy who has made me feel wanted and loved and womanly, and to see him step back from me in horror and disgust would break me.

I blink back my tears. I am on my own again and this time for good. The only way I will survive is by being strong—and so I will be strong. I will do what it takes. I will leave Cooper and never come back.

I let go of my death-grip hug on my knees and put my feet down. I stand up, first still a little shakily, then steady. With my mouth set in a grim line, I unlock the stall door.

It’s time to run.

Savannah

M
y lungs are burning and legs are on fire as I run in the crisp, early fall night. It’s dark out, like my mood, and the streets are empty. It is so quiet that all I hear is the rhythmic pounding of my feet on the pavement. Each footfall is a bound further away from Cooper, and the impossible life that I wanted, and a step closer to my real future—an entirely solitary existence spent looking over my shoulder and pushing everyone away.

It’s depressing as fuck, but it’s better that way. It beats being dead, or worse, and having Cooper die for the mistake of romancing me. 

I almost run past the apartment, I’m so lost in my thoughts. As I stand at the door, feeling through my pockets for the main key, I start to second-guess my choice not to return to my seat for my coat. I just wanted to get out of there before I could change my mind, and I didn’t want to see Cooper again, for fear of being unable to make myself leave. But that was my only coat, and having only a hoodie when it gets to be winter isn’t going to be so great.

Oh, well. There is no way that I am going to go back for a coat.

I let myself in and go straight to my room. It’s warm inside, but I don’t bother taking off my hoodie, or even rolling up my sleeves. I’m stuffing all of my few belongings into my backpack as fast as I can. The last thing I need is Cooper getting home before I am far away. I know the odds of that are vanishingly slim, given that he’s currently in the middle of a major match, but I feel uneasy anyway. I just need to get far, far away.

I pull my stash of cash out from under the bed and flip through it. I have enough for a bus ticket by now, since I’ve been saving up between the parlor pay and the dog-walking money, and this time I’m going to go far. I zip the money into an inner compartment in my backpack and head to the door. On second thought, I stop by the kitchen and grab some apples and crackers. Who knows when the next time I’ll be able to get a real meal will be? I grab some lunch leftovers out of the fridge, too, but looking at them reminds me of the lunch with Cooper earlier today and my stomach flips. I put them back in the fridge. If I knew the last twenty or so hours, the best hours of my life, were going to be that short, I wouldn’t have wasted so much time sleeping and eating. I would have savored each moment with Cooper more.

I zip up my backpack and sling it over my shoulders, heading out through the door. I lock the door behind me, then stare down at the key in my hand. I sigh. I know what I have to do, painful as it is.

I unlock the door, go back inside, drop the key on the counter, lock the door from the inside, and shut the door behind me.

It’s final. There’s no going back now. Not back to my family and not back to Cooper anymore, either. The only way is the way forward. Knowing that helps steel my resolve as I break into a jog, away from my temporary home and away from the one man whom I really, really don’t want to leave.

Cooper

C
arl the Crusher is starting to stagger around the ring, taking more and more time to pick himself up every time I knock him down. I get him in a kimura hold, grabbing him by the wrist and slamming him onto the floor, his arm hyperextended away from his body. I hear his shoulder crack and he screams in pain as my fans go wild. Giving them a little something to really go wild over, I go for the omoplata. It’s one of the toughest MMA movies, but I’m one of the few fighters who has the skill and the strength to execute it properly. I lift my leg up over his shoulder and push up on his chin with my knee, sitting up and leaning forward to hyper rotate his shoulder. Carl is starting to choke like he’s going to hurl from pain, so that gives me a moment to look up and check on Savannah.

She’s not there. Her seat is empty.

No matter how slow the service, or how long the line, there’s no way that she wouldn’t be back in her seat by now unless something is seriously wrong. Maybe she’s sick. Maybe this is related to whatever trouble she’s running away from. I don’t know. But something is wrong.

Just like that, I release Carl the Crusher and run over the side of the ring. I jump over the rope to the collective gasp of the crowd, but I don’t give a damn. I just need to be sure that Savannah is okay and, if she’s not, I need to help her.

Vlad comes running up to me, furious. I just threw away what was clearly going to be a victory. “What the FUCK are you doing, man? Get your ass back up there, NOW!” He’s blocking my way to the door.

“Move,” I say, pushing him aside.

“Cooper, what the hell are you doing?” Vlad never gets worked up, but he’s yelling and red in the face. “Why the fuck did you throw away that win?” He grabs me, and I look at him for a moment.

“Savannah is gone,” I say.

“She’s a fucking girl! Do you know what you’re throwing away? The sponsorships? The money? You’re going to be in fucking last seed if you forfeit and you could be in first!” Vlad is livid. “You’re throwing away everything you’ve worked for! You’re throwing away all our hard work over some dumb bitch!”

“Don’t. You. Ever. Talk about Savannah like that again,” I say, through gritted teeth. The only thing keeping me from bashing his head in right then and there is our history together and our friendship. I push him aside and run down the aisle.

All the money and renown in the world is worth shit if something happened to my girl. I need to find her. 

It’s like I’m back in the SEALs as I’m looking for her. I move swiftly, the match already completely forgotten and my focus solely on finding Savannah as quickly as possible. I go straight for the women’s room and in my single-minded quest, I don’t give a fuck about knocking first before I barge in. There are two women in there, fixing their makeup in the mirror, but they’re not Savannah and I ignore them, banging through all the stalls in case she’s in one of them. She’s not.

I head back out and for the exit. The same bouncers are there as earlier. There hasn’t been a shift change yet. Good.

“Have you seen the girl that came for me?” I demand. “About five five, dark hair, brown eyes?”

“I know the one,” says one of the men.

“And?” I demand. “Don’t fuck with me—did she leave?”

The bouncer looks a little uneasy, taking a sideways look at one of the other bouncers. “Look, we don’t want any trouble, man.”

“No trouble,” I say. “
If
you tell me where she went.”

“She ran out of here a while back,” one of the other guys says. “She went that way.” He points down the street in the direction of our apartment.

“Thanks, man,” I say and run off to the apartment. I run faster than I ever have, but when I get there the lights are all off. I didn’t bother to get my bag out of the locker room, so I don’t have a key.

“Savannah!” I yell, pounding on the door. There’s no response, so I run around to the side and smash a window in with my fist. I pull myself up on to the window ledge and jump through the window into the dark apartment. “Savannah?”

I flip on the lights and run for her room. Empty, including of all her stuff. My room. She’s not there. The bathroom. She’s not there. She’s not in the kitchen or the living room, either, and then I see it. There, lying on the kitchen counter, are Savannah’s keys. There’s no note, there’s no explanation, there is just the fucking key lying on the kitchen counter. It hits me like a ton of bricks. She isn’t sick, she didn’t get called away, she just up and left. I hurl the fucking key across the room with a yell of anguish.

It’s not Savannah that I’m angry at. It’s myself. I fucking knew better than this. I knew better than to fall for a girl. I knew better than to get emotions involved. I knew I should just stick with my meaningless fucks and that I had no business getting involved with the mysterious girl with the secret past.

Now she’s gone. And there’s a pain in my chest, unlike any other.

Savannah

M
y heartbeat doesn’t slow back down to normal until a good half-hour into the bus ride. Only then am I able to finally nestle into my seat for the long ride to New York City. If I can’t get lost in the most anonymous cities in the world, then it’s impossible anywhere.