Shattered (17 page)

“I don’t want to shake you off,” he said, “I
just wanted to give you the chance.”

“I don’t want the chance,” I said, twining my
fingers with his. “I want you. Plain and simple.”

“Simple...” he said, “I’m pretty sure we’re
the farthest thing from simple.”

“Regardless,” I said, “It’s you and me, until
the end. And I don’t want to hear another word about it, OK?”

“OK, ma’am,” he said with the shadow of
smile. “Whatever you say.”

“That’s more like it,” I said, “Now be a dear
and fetch me something to sleep in. I’m beat.”

He did so, pulling a plain white tee shirt
out of the gym bag and handing it over. I slipped the simple
garment over my newly tanned body, my body still pulsing with the
heat of our lovemaking. I lowered myself gingerly onto the garish
comforter, watching as Anderson went to splash some water onto his
face, and then throw his clothes back on. He returned to my side,
settling onto the rickety bed. A long moment of silence passed
between us, the enormity of the situation taking hold once again. I
could see his mind churning, searching for solutions to our
impossible dilemma. I lay a hand on his muscled shoulder, and he
looked over with his deep, soulful eyes.

“Anderson,” I said, “I’m sorry about what
Robert turned out to be.”

“I’m sorry too,” he said, “It’s like losing
another parent. All my life, I’ve thought of Robert as someone I
could trust, confide in. Someone who would keep me safe. Now that I
know it was all a lie...I feel like someone I cared about has
passed away. Ceased to exist. We’ve had so many good times
together. But all the while, he was just using me. Manipulating me
for his own gain.”

“It’s OK to mourn who you thought he was,” I
said, “He was a huge part of your life.”

“I just feel like such an idiot,” Anderson
said, “All these years, I’ve never put the pieces together. If I’d
just looked a little closer...”

“You had no reason to,” I said, “What
Robert’s done to you, to your family, is unthinkable. You would
have to be evil yourself to have even considered it a
possibility.”

“Or just a little bit smarter,” he said.

“Smart’s got nothing to do with it,” I said,
“From what I hear, Toby was plenty smart. He didn’t see it
either.”

Toby’s name hung in the air between us like a
ghost. I knew so little about Anderson’s family, and suddenly that
made me terribly sad. I imagined what it would have been like to
know Anderson under different circumstances. What would it have
been like to meet him in a class, or at a bar, or through a friend?
To go through the process of dating and courtship like a normal
couple? To worry about whether his family would like me, then meet
them and discover that I had nothing to worry about? It would have
been so nice to have known them.

“Can you tell me more about your family?” I
asked Anderson. “You don’t have to, if it’s going to upset
you.”

“No,” Anderson said, “It might be nice to
talk about them.” He took a deep breath and began, “I never really
appreciated any of them while they were alive. I guess no kid
really does, but I wish that I could have seen how good they were
back then. My mother was beautiful. I’ve seen old pictures of her,
from before Toby and I were born. She had this long brown hair,
like the color of chestnuts. Curls, all the way down her back. Most
of the time, there were all bundled up on the top of her head,
‘cause she’d be hurrying back and forth between jobs. She worked at
the bank during the day, and during the night she was a seamstress.
She always wore this bright red lipstick. Every day. One time, I
put some of it on Toby. I didn’t know that lipstick was a ‘boy
thing’. My parents almost died laughing when they caught sight of
him. He loved it, too. I’m surprised he didn’t make it a daily
thing.

Dad never said much, but he wasn’t cold. He
was a school janitor—not at our school, though. That would have
been a little hard. Not because there’s anything undignified about
it. Just because kids can be little shits, you know? I’d watch the
kids at my school mess with the janitors, the lunch ladies, and it
was always hard not to just pound on them. But I couldn’t do that,
because then I’d have to say why it made me so mad. And as much as
I respected my father, I knew that I was supposed to be ashamed of
him. I’m sure that makes me the worst son that’s ever lived...”

“It’s doesn’t,” I said, taking hold of his
hand. “Tell me more.”

“Well,” he said, “On weekends, when it was
nice out, they’d take Toby and me to the boardwalk. The Coney
Island boardwalk is like another planet, especially back then.
Every kind of person in the world you could imagine shows up there
when it’s warm out. We’d all four head down, get our hotdogs, and
ride the roller coaster. I’d never admit it to anyone, but I was a
little afraid of the going in the water. I didn’t like the jelly
fish...I know that sounds crazy now, but I couldn’t stand the
thought of ‘em. Toby didn’t care though. Toby loved the water. He’d
go splashing right in, not even testing the water first like most
kids would. He’d just dive right into the waves, laughing the whole
time. I admired him for that. He was fearless.”

“You’re fearless too,” I said.

“That’s not true,” Anderson said, “I’m afraid
of plenty of things.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Like losing,” Anderson said, “I’m afraid to
lose. I’m afraid to lose a fight, that’s why I don’t. It’s not my
skill as a fighter, it’s fear that keeps from losing. I’ve already
lost so much in life. My parents, and Toby, and my whole
childhood...but I’ve never lost a fight. I don’t know if I could
stand to. If I lose a fight, then who knows what I’ll lose next? My
reputation, my pride...What if I even lost you?”

I took his face in my hands, seeing my new
self reflected in his eyes. “I can tell you one thing for certain,
Anderson,” I said, “You couldn’t lose me if you tried.”

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me
close. “Thank god for that,” he said.

“Are you going to stay with me tonight?” I
asked.

“I can’t do that,” he said, “Robert’s men
will get suspicious if they don’t see me come home for the night.
I’m sure they’re posted around the building.”

“What are you going to do about the fight
tomorrow?” I asked him fearfully.

“I don’t know yet,” he said, “I’ve still got
to figure it out.”

“I want to be there,” I told him, “Whatever
you decide to do.”

“Kaela,” he said, his brow furrowing, “It’s
too dangerous.”

“No such thing as too dangerous,” I said as
gamely as I could, “Whatever’s going on in the outside world, this
is the most important fight of your career. You don’t think I’m
going to let you face it alone, do you? Besides, I have a new
identity now.” I smiled.

“Well...” he started, “Maybe that could work.
But what’s our plan? I mean, what’s our endgame?”

“I don’t know,” I said, “I thought you’d be
able to tell me.”

“You don’t seem like the kind of girl who
likes having things decided for her,” Anderson said.

“You’ve got me there,” I smiled.

“So tell me,” Anderson said, “With everything
that’s happened...What do you want?”

“I don’t want to go home,” I said firmly, “I
don’t want to try and live my life here as if nothing has happened.
Anderson, all I want in the world is you.”

“And you’re all I want,” he said, “So...Why
don’t we just run with that?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean...Why don’t we leave? Run away?”

“But...Where?” I asked, excitement quickening
my pulse.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked.

“Somewhere...warm,” I said, “New York winters
are horrible.”

“They’re the worst,” he agreed, “So,
somewhere warm. We could head for Mexico.”

“Or South America,” I said.

“Or Australia,” he suggested.

“Or Hawaii!” I cried.

He let out a warm laugh. “Well, which?” he
asked.

“Is there anywhere they won’t find us?” I
asked.

Anderson’s face fell. “That I don’t know...”
he said.

“God,” I muttered, “I wish we could just get
that fucker locked away. Who knows what else he’s been up to,
besides building his underground fighting empire. He was playing
your family—who knows how many other innocent people have died
because of him?”

Anderson looked at me long and hard.
“Probably quite a few,” he said slowly.

“More than a few, I’m sure,” I said, “How
many fighters do you think die every year, alone?”

“I bet if someone investigated him...”
Anderson said. I could see the spark of an idea smoldering behind
his eyes.

“Are you onto something?” I asked. Sitting on
my heels and looking at him intently.

“Maybe,” he said, “It’s a little insane, but
so is literally everything about this situation.”

“That’s fair,” I said, “Will you tell me what
you’re thinking?”

“I’d better not,” he said, “That way if it
goes wrong, you can plead ignorance.”

I swallowed hard. This sounded serious. “OK,”
I said, “What do I need to know?”

“The password for tomorrow’s fight is
‘serendipity’,” he said, holding my hands in his. “You know where
to find the red door with the silver eight. Do as much as you can
to look like someone else. Wear something you never would as
yourself, pile on the makeup, speak with an accent, the works. Tell
anyone who asks that your name is...Um...”

“Emilia,” I suggested, “Emilia
Bellantoni.”

“Perfect,” Anderson grinned. “You’ve got a
knack for this.”

“I guess I was born for a life in the
underground,” I said, “Who knew?”

“Do you have a passport?” Anderson asked.

“Yeah,” I said, “Will I be needing it?”

“If all goes according to plan,” he said.

“The plan you won’t tell me?” I asked.

“That plan. Yes,” he said.

“OK,” I said. “Do I need to do anything
else?”

“Wear flats,” he said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because we might be running, that’s why,” he
said.

“Very well,” I replied, “Flats it is.”

“I have to go,” Anderson said, running his
fingers through my new short hair, “I have some things to take care
of before tomorrow.”

“OK,” I said, standing with him. “I won’t see
you before the fight?” I asked.

“No,” he said, “No, I guess not.”

We let that knowledge sink in. This was the
last time we’d be together before the championship brawl the next
day. Before Anderson implemented whatever plan it was he had in
mind. This could be the last time we ever saw each other, should
something go wrong. Without saying a word, we threw our arms around
each other, holding on tight.

“I love you,” I whispered against his
shoulder.

“I love you too,” he told me fiercely.

He lifted my mouth to his once more and
kissed me firmly, resolutely, with just the faintest hint of
finality. When he broke away, his face was set and determined.

“Do what you need to do,” I told him, feeling
my own jaw lock into place.

Anderson nodded once and turned on his heel.
He strode across the threshold and closed the door behind him. I
was only in the dingy hotel room, listening to sirens tear through
the city that lurked and throbbed beyond the window.

I sank back onto the bed and took a deep,
steadying breath. I knew that sleep would be impossible, though I’d
never needed it more. Tomorrow would change the course of my life
forever, that much was for certain. I’d either be freed of every
restraint that had ever bound me, or I’d be done for. Either way,
Anderson would be at my side to the very end. And for the time
being, it would have to be enough. Until tomorrow dawned, enough
was all I could hope for.

Chapter
Eleven

Sleep was an impossibility as the following
day approached. I watched the sky lighten through the grimy hotel
window, and listened as the city came to life once again. Opening
the curtains, I looked down onto the streets, over the staggering
skyline of rooftops and skyscrapers. There were so many lives
around me, so many people carrying on their average existences.
Until Anderson had found me, I’d been one of those people—content
with the ordinary drudgery of daily life. But now, as I prepared
for what could very well be my final day of life, I realized how
separate I truly was. 

Struggling to keep a calm head, I started to
ready myself for the evening to come. Anderson had brought me
everything that I might need to complete my disguise. With hours
and hours to spare, I started to transform myself as best I could.
My tanned skin and chopped, dyed hair definitely gave me a head
start, but I had to go further. I spent painstaking hours making up
my face—adding new highlights and contours to mask my real
features. I practiced my best Italian accent, frowning at my shoddy
abilities. Perhaps it would be better if I didn’t speak to anyone.
Better to keep up the mystique, anyway.