The Risen: Dawning (27 page)

T
he library, with its many shelves of thick, faded books, proves to be the perfect hiding spot from my world. There are only a few others in the room with me. With their refusal to address anyone, I gather they too are seeking some level of escape from their own private hell. I find the ability to become invisible frees a great weight from my shoulders as I escape into a fantasy-land of print and paper.

The smell of the old books creates a soothing perfume around me like a hot bath at the end of a long day. The many dust particles dance around my chair in the sun’s rays casting an illusion of magic when I turn the pages. I devour the books, letting the stories create new images for my mind to replay tonight. I cling to each character, as if I am forming new friends with the stories they tell me. From romance to horror, I find a new person to fill the many empty holes in my soul within the leather bound novels around me.

“They want you in the gym.” I startle from the whisper of a voice in front of me. Aimes is standing there watching me. The next time I am forced to do laundry, I am sewing bells on her stuff. Loud bells.

“They who?” I return my attention to the novel with my dismissal of her. Unfortunately, it is not that easy.

“Who else would want you to come to the gym?” I do not think she meant for her question to form the way the words do.

“I guess you’re right. It is a short list these days of those that want to be around me.” I mean mine.

“I don’t want to fight anymore.” Her voice is still a whisper, but not because of the social rules of where we are.

“Then you should just stay silent.” I tell her, closing the novel in my hands. “This is where you run away.”

“I can’t.” Her whisper skips with her breath, sinking in her emotions. “He said if I don’t come back with you, then not to come back.”

I already know who would give such an order, but I ask anyway to make her say it. “Who told you that?”

“Lawless.” She tells me and my face holds shock with the name she gives me. “He wants you to see it. I think he has some idea that it will reach you in someway.”

“What will?” My curiosity is one of my many downfalls. I would list them all but my self-esteem is already on a downward spiral as it is.

“The fight. They didn’t go through with it last night. Not sure what happened, but they are doing it now. The only thing everyone seems to agree to is that you need to be there. So here I am.” She holds her hands out in a grand sweep of presenting herself. My lack of amusement takes some of the glow from her smile.

“We don’t have to talk on the way, but if we don’t get back soon, they will send Rhett. He hasn’t been a lot of fun and games as of late. Well, he has been a lot of games, just not any of them fun.” Her words are eerily similar to anothers from only a day ago. I try to tell myself it’s not me, it’s them, but who am I kidding? I am just a ray of sunshine as of late.

I take her up on her offer of not talking as we walk to the gym. A few times, she does try to engage me in conversation. It does not go well for her, and after a few well landed verbal blows, she finally relents to silence between us. My mind still fills with the many words that I want to say though. My tongue wants to scald her with them but my soul is tired of these mud-slinging games. So, I too, relent to the silence between us.

She pauses in front of the gym door. I cannot see her face, but I know she is working the courage to say something to me. Something she is worried about how I will react to when I hear it.

“You should know, they will be watching you. Rhett is worried you are turning against them. I told them you aren’t. You just don’t care about the politics of it. You never have. You have always been strong enough to do your own thing. You may be the only one of us that is.” She pauses before turning to me. Her blue eyes, so much like the many other pairs that were once in my life, swim before me. They are pleading with me to help her. Asking me to not let her fall. Pity for her, I am not wearing my cape and tights today.

“I know you hate me,” she continues, “I know you think I have turned them against you. I haven’t. They talk about you all the time. They just don’t know how to talk
to
you anymore. None of us do. You always were the heart of us. The one that took care of us. Give them your heart again, Hells. They need it.”

Seriously people, no cape today.

She does not wait for any answer from me. She knows I am not going to give her one. Instead, we walk into the gym together to watch the best of “when male egos attack live”. She; the one who was sent to summon, and me; the summoned.

The atmosphere of the gym is thick with testosterone. Normally, a girl would enjoy the sights before her, but not under these circumstances. Our delay has not stalled their fun. J.D. sits on “our” side of the gym holding a bag of ice across his nose with Paula over seeing his care. Rhett is resting beside them with a few marks of his own on his face but his smile speaks a different story than his bruises. Both are shirtless and have marks along their chests and sides. I am not sure what the rules of combat were, but there seems to have been very few with the amount of shading covering both their bodies.

Shelia is the attending nurse to “their” side. Simon has his own bag of ice across his eyes. Even with his natural dark coloring, I can see the bruises already shading along his skin. She fusses over each one, allowing him no male pride in his fight.

Richard is lying on his back and clutching his wrapped ribs. His breathing is unsteady, causing grimaces of pain in time with each of his inhales. Most of his bruising is on his lower torso with only a few to his face. I am not familiar with their fighting styles, but looking at their injuries, I know whom from “our side” they were matched against. I also know who is left.

Kidney shots are Rhett’s favorite, second only to the ribs. He prefers to leave long-term damage, not just bruises, to remind you of him. J.D. is a straight brawler. Wherever he can land a punch to, he will. Looking from one side to other, I cannot determine a winner from what lays before me. That is how my girl mind works though. Their male minds see it differently. Both sides have returned and received blows in the insanity of appeasing their male egos. There does not have to be a winner.

“He’s watching you.” I hear her little whisper.

Lawless and Dolph are standing in the center of the room staring at me. White take is around them in a large square is white floor, dictating the boundaries of the make shift boxing ring for today’s main event. From their hands to their wrists, white fabric and tape is bound tightly to protect them.

Law is standing, facing me, giving me his full attention as he waited for me to see him. Dolph stands to the side in his typical style of keeping everything in sight. He glances from Lawless to me. His face may be unreadable to me, but I still feel his unease with the way his eyes continue to look down before finding us. They are both rather calm considering what is about to happen. It only further proves their insanity.

Chapel comes to stand between the two men, telling them the agreed upon rules. We are too far back to hear him, but looking at the damage already done to the others, I cannot imagine there are many. Lawless is staring into Dolph with seething anger. His anger makes this seem more personal for him than for others. Chapel keeps pushing Lawless back as he is talking, only to have him creep up again to him and Dolph. Dolph takes the threat in stride watching the other man with enough caution to let Lawless know there will be no backing down from him either.

Chapel is having a hard time keeping the two men apart before the fight starts. I can see them exchanging whispered words that only prove to provoke the other further. Rhett and Simon have come to either side of the white tape, hoping their presence will calm their counterparts.

Lawless and Dolph are not even aware of anything around them anymore, much less, the men standing beside them, who are trying to talk to them. Their eyes are focusing only on the other with how consumed they have both become with their anger. It is frightening to watch, and it has not yet even started.

“You have to choose a side. It will settle Lawless some.” Marxx pulls us to “their” side of the room. Once again, someone has snuck up on me. I am not a fan of this new trend. Does no one say “Excuse Me” anymore? Bells, you are all getting bells. Elves will be envious of you when I am through.

Marxx positions himself between Aimes and me as if he is expecting our own brawl to begin at any moment. If they had jello, I am sure it would be encouraged. I glance again to the “ring” in the middle of the room as I follow behind him. Rhett and Simon have had to step in to help Chapel separate Lawless and Dolph. There seems to be more vocal commotion now that they are apart.

Rhett is whispering in Law’s ear, but he is not listening to the words. His eyes are on me, following me, as I walk to “our” side. The weight of their anger makes me stumble under his gaze. Never have I seen such rage from him. Never do I want to see it again, and I turn my head to hide my weakness of not being able to face him.

I grab Marxx’ hand when we reach “our” side of the gym. I can feel his shock at my touch travel through his body. I can’t look at him. My head is too heavy to lift with my fears of what is about to happen before me. I can’t do this alone. They cannot ask me to stand here, and watch Lawless do this, without someone to help me. My hand trembles in his with my fears. The tension in our arms slackens as he comes to me. I feel him slide against my back, cradling me in his arms.

“I’m here.” Marxx’ deep voice whispers into my ear. “I’m here, Hells.”

I give in. All the strength I have been hiding behind, I let it fade in this moment. I let him hold me, pulling me close to him. I let his arms support me and his voice soothe me. I do not want to fight them anymore. I want to hide from this that lies before me. I want to hide from what I have left behind me. I want to fall to the floor in my sorrow and fill the room with my tears, but not yet. I cannot yet. I pull his arms tight around me, using them as seams to hold me together. I am still taking baby steps.

“You have to watch. If he can take the blows, you can at least watch.” Marxx tells me.

“I didn’t ask him to take any blows.” My voice is haunted with the guilt of that thought.

“You don’t have to ask him. You haven’t figured that out yet? Now get ready.” I feel the pressure of his arms increase with his words, and I know the fight is about to start.

I did not see it start. I heard it. I hear the sickening sound that skin makes as it is connected against repeatedly. I hear the sounds of pain from those connections from both of them. I look up to see them being separated by Simon, Rhett and Chapel. Each is fighting off their captor with the agreement to keep space between the two of them. Already blood is flowing from both of their faces from lacerations. Now they circle one another, collecting their breath before they attack again.

“Were the other two fights this brutal?” I whisper to the man behind me.

“No.” Is the only word he gives to me, bringing my fear back to the surface.

“When does it end?” My words are weak, afraid of each answer I am seeking.

“When one steps over the tape.” His words cause my stomach to clench with the realization of how far this could go.

“Did Rhett or J.D. step over the tape?” I am afraid of his answer.

“No.” That same word offered again doubles my fear.

Law cannot step over the tape now. He must be the one to finish it, following the lead of the two that have gone before him. To do anything less, will cost him more than just the fight. Unfortunately, Dolph is in the same situation.

He cannot step over the tape either. It will mean that everyone from his side fell to ours. It will allow a sore spot that will forever taunt their pride. It will be the ultimate declaration, declaring which side has the better protectors. Something no male wants to have proven against them by falling to another. As Lawless lands the first blow with this new attack, I see no way for this to end.

The men are panting, and bleeding, as they are pulled apart again. Both are spitting blood from the wounds in their mouths. My tears are flowing as freely as the many cuts upon their faces. Dolph is just as relentless as Law is with his attacks, and my body aches with each blow landed. Neither is showing any sign of yielding with their hate still so abundant. With their eyes, even now, they glare at each other around the men holding them apart. They will not succumb to the other, but they may to another.

“I can stop this.” I whisper aloud with the shock of my own realization of the logic.

“I was wondering how much longer it would take you.” Marxx tells me. His arms drop from around me. I am without his arms as my shield to protect me now, but I have truth as my lance. For once, finally, truth is on my side.

Lawless’ eyes swing to me with my movement from the side of the room. He was not intentionally looking for me. It was his senses, preparing him for any possible attack, which was signaled by my movement. The heat simmers in his honey-toned eyes seeing me walk towards him. His body relaxes a moment with the loss of his anger. It pulls Rhett’s eyes to me with how well attuned the men are to each others every subtle change. They are both waiting to see what I will do. Hell, so am I.