Authors: Maddy Barone
Ray wasn’t annoyed. He chuckled proudly. “Young dog, getting these other guys all riled up.”
It looked like that was true. A bunch of the other fighters scowled at Eddie, making threatening moves toward him. Ray patted her shoulder. “I better get on down there and get this show started before they tear Eddie apart. He won’t be in any shape to give you a wedding night if they do that.” Ray winked. “You hang in there. It’ll be over soon.”
Wedding night? A cold shiver went through Lisa. With Eddie, she thought it might be bearable. Anyone else? Her stomach heaved. No, Eddie
had
to win.
*
Eddie had every intention of winning. He could have been married years ago. The girls in town had been pretty obvious about their infatuation with him. He knew they thought he was good-looking. His sister had told him so. But until he had seen Lisa Anton, he hadn’t found a woman he wanted. From the moment he’d laid eyes on her, he’d known she was the one for him. Not only was she beautiful and gentle and in need of his protection but she was also from the Times Before. Eddie had always been fascinated by the stories of the Times Before, with their machines and gadgets that made life easier.
He paused in his warm up to stare at Lisa on her balcony. She was as pretty as an angel in one of those fancy paintings from the Times Before. With a little more food in her, she would be as beautiful on the outside as she was inside. Carla had spoken about how calm Lisa was after the plane crash and about how she comforted the dying. The look of embarrassed denial on Lisa’s delicate face touched his heart and made him warm to her even more. She was modest, but such strength and compassion would be an asset in his wife. His grandmother’s lack of compassion had condemned his mother, her own daughter, to a hellish childhood.
He smiled at her. She smiled back. Eddie looked at the other men he would be fighting and didn’t try to hide his smirk. Two or three of them didn’t fight well when they were enraged. It would be a fair fight—Faron Paulson and Steve Herrick would act as referees to ensure the fights were fair—but he would take any advantage he could. As much as he hated to use it, his other self gave him the advantage in speed and agility. He would never cheat. But he was not going to lose this fight.
His father swaggered onto the stage from the side and spoke to Faron and Steve. Steve’s silver ponytail gleamed as he nodded his head a few times. After a short conversation, Faron instructed the fighters to line up facing the balconies and the spectators. Eddie stood shoulder to shoulder with Tyler Brand on his left and Paul Cruz from Odessa on his right. Ray took center stage to address the crowd.
“What you’re gonna see here today is some of the best fighters in our area competing for the right to marry either Miss Lisa Anton or Miss Carla Zimmerman. Each contender will be paired up by the luck of the draw made by Steve Herrick. The winner of each fight will move on to the next round. The fight is over when one man either yields or bleeds. No weapons are allowed until the final fight, and then only knives. The first fight will be…” He took a square of paper from Steve and squinted at it. “Tyler Brand and Eddie Madison for the hand of Miss Anton. Gentlemen, prepare yourselves.”
Eddie was prepared. He had sized up his opponents while he warmed up. Tyler was successful enough in his lawyer business to be able to eat very well. He was tall, and his long arms gave him good reach, but he carried too much fat to move well for any length of time. All Eddie had to do to defeat him was make him move enough to be out of breath.
*
The cool expression Lisa put on froze on her face. It felt as if it might crack and fall off. She’d tried to keep her eyes on the square below her, but she couldn’t bear to watch Eddie fight. His opponent was a few inches taller, probably around six-two or six-three, with short, receding dark hair and thick muscles a layer of fat couldn’t hide. He looked bigger and stronger than Eddie.
What would she do if Eddie lost? Only the winner would go on to fight again until one man was left, and that would be her new husband. All her fingernails were broken, which distressed her yesterday. Now she was glad. They weren’t long enough to cut into her palms when she clenched her fists. Every time Lisa heard one of the men land a punch, her hands clenched tighter. The crowd of men was either dead silent or cheering madly after the meaty thud of flesh against flesh signaled a successful strike, probably watching as avidly as the Romans had the games in the Coliseum, and with as much blood-lust.
An extra-loud roar dragged Lisa’s eyes back to the square. Eddie stood, his chest showing fist-sized red marks that would become bruises, and the tall dark-haired guy was face down on the floor, shaking his head and trying to get to his knees. Ray’s voice shouted Eddie Madison was the winner of the first bout. The tension in Lisa came out as a choked laugh. Eddie flipped a quick smile up at her before giving his opponent a hand up.
Oh, God. That was only the first fight of the first round. Ten more men would be paired up to fight in the first round, and the six winners would advance to the next round. This would take hours. Right now two men were fighting for Carla. Lisa glanced quickly to the side and saw that Carla scowled at the windows on the far wall, projecting boredom edged with fury. Lisa admired Carla. She was afraid her own pretense of disdain was wobbly.
Lisa never knew how she survived the next seven hours. The theater had started out cold, but the press of bodies, sweating fighters, and testosterone heated the place up as well as a furnace. The heat came with the nauseating odor of sweat and blood. The tears were hers. She tried to control herself, but every time Eddie was kicked, punched, or bitten, she flinched. The fact he delivered more punches and kicks than he received was scant comfort. She hated to see men brutally beating each other, bleeding and sweating and tearing into each other like savages. Watching Eddie bleed for her hurt.
Her last boyfriend, Brent, had been a big boxing fan. He dragged her to several boxing matches. She hadn’t been able to stand that either, and those fights were polite games compared to this. She told Brent she didn’t like it, but he laughed and took it for granted she would come anyway. And she had. She was never able to tell the men in her life no. Her therapist encouraged her to practice standing up for herself, but when it came to men, she couldn’t seem to do it. She could stand up for herself as a model, especially with her agent’s backing, but her personal life was a wreck. It took a lot for her to finally dump a guy. Just a month ago, she kicked Brent out and promised herself to not get involved with a man for at least a year.
Look at her now—a prize for the most brutal fighter to take home.
Oh, God
, she prayed again,
please let it be Eddie
.
The fights passed in a blur of barely suppressed tears and clenched fists for Lisa. Eddie kept winning. She looked over at Carla frequently, but the other woman seemed to be interested in anything and everything except the fights below them. Lisa could barely stand to watch, but when it came down to only two men left to fight to win her, Lisa set her teeth hard together and forced her eyes to focus on Eddie.
Eddie’s hair hung in sweat-dampened ringlets, and his torso was blotched with vivid bruises. His handsome face was blessedly free of the blood that smeared his opponent’s. The other man was probably ten years older than Eddie, with dark curls cut very short and a thick muscular body covered with a dense mat of body hair.
Eddie had to be exhausted, but he still moved with the smooth grace that made him appear to flow without effort. Every now and then he crouched, quivering, before he sprung on his opponent. It made her think of Mr. Buckles, the orange tabby cat she’d had when she was in second grade, playing with a catnip mouse. Eddie had the same sort of grace. The other man didn’t have a chance.
Lisa wasn’t sure how it happened, but in a minute Eddie’s opponent was down, and Ray shouted that Eddie had won her. Her mask cracked under the onslaught of tears as she gasped, “Thank God!”
Her guards bunched around her to take her out of her balcony to the theater floor where Eddie waited for her. He was sweaty and bruised and beautiful. Even with his hair clinging wetly to his neck and his lower lip puffy, he was beautiful. His grin was white and triumphant as he swept her into his arms and backed her into the narrow stairwell to the balconies, crushing her between his sweat covered chest and the wall. The noise of the crowd was muted.
“Oh, God, Eddie,” she gasped into his ear. “I was so scared.”
His split knuckles left smears of blood in her hair when he pushed it back to kiss her. He let a small hiss out as his lips touched hers. She flinched at the sound.
“Are you all right?” Her eyes clung to the purpling bruise on his cheek and swollen crack at the corner of his mouth. “You look like it hurts.”
His hands cupped her face. “I’d like to say it looks worse than it feels, but I’m not sure about that.” His cocky grin was interrupted by a wince as the crack at the corner of his mouth opened and a thread of blood ran toward his jaw. “But it was worth it. I won you. You’re my wife now.”
Wife. Was it the word or the blood that made a shudder work its way through Lisa? Of all the men here, Eddie was probably the best choice, but
married
? She barely knew him. A wave of longing for home crashed over her. If there were any chance at all to go back, she would grab it with both hands.
Eddie touched her cheek gently. “What’s that expression for?”
Lisa hesitated before telling the truth. “I wish I could go back home.”
“Back to 2014?” He shook his head. “If you did, you’d probably die.”
Right. Between nuclear war and marriage to Eddie, she’d take marriage. Her smile was wobbly, but she tried. When he kissed her again, very gently, she tasted blood.
Eddie lifted his head away and used his thumb to wipe the blood away from her mouth. “Lisa-love, don’t cry. We’ll be good together. With me, you won’t ever have to worry about being hungry, or where you’ll live, or having a husband who beats you up. I’ll be the very best husband I can be.” He ran the tip of one finger down her forehead, over her nose to her mouth, where he rubbed it back and forth over her lower lip. “I’ve had girls flirt with me, lots, but I never found one I wanted until I saw you yesterday in that wagon. We don’t know each other real well yet, but we can learn to love one another, don’t you think?”
Was she starved for sex? Just that rhythmic brush of his finger over her lip hardened her nipples, and the sculpted chest and abs he held her against did nothing to put her fire out. She stroked her hands over his shoulders down to his biceps. “I hope so,” she breathed.
He kissed her again and winced. “Ow! I don’t think I’ll be kissing you much tonight, Lisa-love.”
“That’s okay.”
His hands clamped on her hips and pulled her hard against him. She blinked at the rigid length of his arousal pressed into the V of her thighs. Her arousal went up a notch. “But I’ll be doing everything else to you tonight,” he growled. “I can’t wait.”
He was bloody, bruised, sweaty, and sexy as hell. Lisa swallowed and nodded dumbly. Sex wouldn’t be a problem. She liked sex. No, she
loved
sex. She thought she liked Eddie too. It wasn’t love, but he was so kind she was sure she could fall in love with him.
“I’ll try to be gentle,” he whispered.
His voice was lost in the scream that pierced the muted rumble of the crowd beyond their hiding place. Lisa jumped at that savage cry. “What was that?”
Eddie’s sweat darkened hair slid on his shoulder as he tilted his head. “I think Taye Wolfe won your friend. Let’s go see.”
At five feet and eleven inches, Lisa could see over many men’s heads, but she didn’t see who the winner was until she craned her head to look up at Carla’s balcony almost directly above them. A tall, lean man with dark hair was on the balcony talking to Carla. How had he gotten there? She would have seen him go past her in the stairwell to go up the stairs to the balconies, wouldn’t she? Well, maybe not. She’d been totally focused on Eddie.
The man’s bare muscular back flexed when he picked Carla up like a baby and leaped over the balcony rail. Too shocked even to scream, Lisa watched him clutch Carla to his chest as he fell the twelve feet to the floor and landed lightly on bare feet. He set her on the floor with gentle hands. Carla’s purse sailed down after them, falling close to Lisa and spilling its contents over the floor and her feet. Without thinking, Lisa scrambled to gather Carla’s things together and stuff them back in the purse.
Carla stood almost on her tiptoes to scream into the face of the man who stared down at her. The look of hunger on his face made Lisa gulp. He was as sweaty as Eddie and even bloodier. With his ragged bangs hanging in his eyes, he looked frightening. Well, not entirely frightening. There was something else in his face when he looked at Carla. Delight? Wonder? Lisa sent a glance at Eddie standing a few inches behind her, putting his shirt on. Was he delighted?
“That’s Taye Wolfe,” Eddie murmured, stepping close to put his arm around her waist. “And a couple of the men in his Pack. They live a few miles north of Kearney. We don’t see them much.”
Lisa noticed two other men standing nearby. There were still a couple of hundred men in the theater, almost all of them watching their little corner. Lisa was sure some of them would like to come closer, but Taye Wolfe’s two friends kept them away by their scowls alone. They and Taye looked Native American. One looked a little older, maybe mid-thirties. The hard look on his face made her lean away so her cheek rested against Eddie. Taye Wolfe’s dark eyes shifted briefly to her.
“Why don’t you say good-bye to your friend before we leave,” he suggested to Carla.
As he turned to put on his shoes, Carla left him to walk the dozen steps to Lisa. Lisa noticed that his eyes never left Carla, just as Eddie’s arm never left her waist.
Lisa gently wriggled out of Eddie’s arm and extended the heavy purse. “Here’s your purse. Are you okay?”