A Fighting Chance (22 page)

“So you’re
really
my brother?” HJ says, studying me with wide eyes.

When I spoke to him before, I didn’t think it was my place to explain our relationship, but I guess one of his parents did.
“Yeah. I am,” I say, finally finding my voice. I smile big and wonder if I’ll ever stop.

“Oh…
I only have sisters.”

“Not anymore.”

“Yeah.” He nods with a little giggle. “
Cool.
I always wanted a brother. My friend, Martin, has a big brother, and they do everything together. Sometimes he even picks him up from school.”

“If we lived in the same place
I’d pick you up from school, if that’s what you wanted.”

HJ nods before
his brow furrows. “How come we don’t have the same mom?”

“It’s complicated…” I say, trailing off
into laughter.

“Grownups always say stuff like
that.” He scrunches his nose in annoyance.

“Hey, wait!
But that doesn’t mean I won’t tell you someday. I’m not like all grownups.” Oh shit, I’m really trying to impress a kid.

“Okay. I like talking to you, Jesse.” He smiles again and I choke on the pieces of my heart that survived the
earlier implosion. “Where’s your mom, anyway?”

“She passed away. She died.”

“Oh…” He frowns and even that’s sweet. “Well, my mom’s really nice. Maybe she can be yours, too.”

“Maybe.”
Wishful thinking, kid.

“Do you like baseball?”
he asks.

“I
love
baseball.”

“Really?” He beams and
the edges of me are cracking with happiness. It’s not maniacs in cages punching me in the face who will destroy me; it’s a ten-year-old. Jesus Fucking Christ.
“I play!” he announces with pride. “Maybe you can come to one of my games.” HJ looks away from the screen. “Can he, Dad? Please? Can he come to my games?” He hands the phone off to Henry, and a surprisingly large dose of disappointment rocks me.

“Sure thing, buddy,” Henry says. “Sorry, I thought he was still out grocery shopping with his mom. He came running into the room.”

“He’s back in Glory? Are you sure it’s safe?”

“It’s just for a few days.”

“Henry, it’s not Ramón Vega and Acevedo you owe, right?” I ask again. “And this isn’t a gambling debt for fights? You can swear that to me?”

He sighs, hurt cutting across his face at my lack of trust. “If that’s what it takes,
I’ll swear, because it’s the truth. This isn’t about gambling. It was my stupid good intention to do the right thing.”

“What about Alejandra? Is she part of the stupid good intention?”

Henry clenches his jaw. “I can’t talk about it in detail right now, but she told me you two met. She’s…yes. She’s someone I got to
know
, if you know what I mean, while I was looking for investors. She did give me money. She’s one of the people I paid back with the borrowed money…but she’s having some trouble letting go of the
personal
relationship.”

“Well, if you only slept with her to get the money, I get why she’s mad…”

“I know you don’t believe me, but that’s not how it happened. I screwed up, Jesse. I know that. I have a lot to repent for. I’m just trying to get to a place where I can start making up for my wrongs. Look, I think every day about what I’ve asked of you, and I know it’s so much, but you were always a star in the ring. Way better than me. What you do up there, you were always so good at that. You can do this. I have nothing but faith in you, in helping me keep HJ safe. And I’m so damn proud of you.”

“Yeah,” I say, as if the words just brush over me
, but in reality I’m absorbing them, and they make me feel heavy, like I’m sinking down into wet concrete. “I’ll be in touch about the money.” I sigh and hang up.

Drew is dressed—light-colored jeans and a black tank top—and staring at me from the bathroom’s doorway. “You should
’ve seen your face when HJ was on,” she says as she walks to me. “He’s such a sweet kid. He walked me home from the library one day to make sure I got there okay, because a kid at Glory Elementary had gotten beat up by middle school bullies. I really almost died from the cuteness.”

When I don’t respond,
she pulls me in to her, locks her arms around me low on the waist, and presses her face to my neck. “You okay?”

I rest my chin
on her head. “I don’t know. It’s weird. I’ve gotten so used to
choosing
people who I can consider family that I forgot what it was like to actually just
have
one. And he’s really all I have.” My chest tightens with emotions that shatter into a burn in my throat. “What if I fail and something happens to him? What if I lose him…like Mom?”

“You won’t…” Drew looks up and cups my face
in both hands.

“How can you be sure?
Fuck.
I have to do everything I can to protect him.” Even if this means more fights and bigger fights, as quickly and as often as my body can handle it. Regardless of whether my mind can.

“And you’ll do that. You’ll protect him…just like you did for me last night. I hate the fighting, but I’m glad you were there.
My hero
.”

“
You’re pretty good at being your own hero, Drew Hallisay. And mine.”

After a beat of complete silence, she sighs, and h
er breath blows across my lips. In the instant, I’m keenly aware of how close our mouths are, and I’m remembering our kiss at
Las Sirenas
. I shiver when her fingers land where the towel rests on my hips, and my hands curve over her ass. With a sharp inhale, her chest expands and her lips part just slightly. I lean in, enough for me to trace the outline of her lips with my tongue if I wanted to. And I’d be a liar right now if I say I’m not tempted to try.

A liar
…and a cheater
.

I kiss her forehead.
Cheater.
I grip her waist and my lips hit the corner of her mouth. Then we’re kissing, again without any reservation, maybe worse than last night. Alcohol brings out the truth but sobriety is still reality. And right here, in this moment, I can’t convince myself to stop. Drew puts her hands on top of mine, pushing them to the button of her jeans. She yanks my towel off and watches me undo her button and pull her jeans down her legs.

“What are we doing?”
she asks in a sigh.
Cheating. We’re cheating, Drew.

Her hand runs down the back of my head
, and I look away from her clenching stomach and black cotton panties. “I don’t know…” I say, gripping her thighs. When she steps out of her jeans, I carry her to the bed.

Her legs come up arou
nd me when I fall on top of her. “No…wait. What is this? We’re gonna fuck while I’m here? Is this to get each other out of our systems?” she asks breathlessly. These are the questions Drunk You With the Itch to Scratch doesn’t consider. And if I put my dick in Drew right now, the only place she’s going
is
my system, overloading how much she’s in it now. “Jesse, you have to answer me…one of us has to say the right thing…before I start begging.”

I move
my very hard cock against her. “That’s you
never
having to beg, Spark,” I whisper. Her eyes droop. She raises her hips and grabs my ass over my boxers. I slide my hand up her inner thigh and she grabs it.

“Jess…” Her voice is heavy. “This is…”

“I know…but you still want to…” Drew nods, and she doesn’t do or say anything else when I pull her underwear off. We’re frozen for just a second, at this point of no return. Then I move both our hands down her thigh and lick one of each of our fingers before working them into her body. Drew rocks against our hands with her eyes pinned to mine, and she is getting so wet, our hands are slippery. I put my mouth between her thighs and flick my tongue over her clit until her body bends and the sheet tears under her hands.

Grabbing
her wrists, I keep her trapped on the mattress and hold her against my mouth. “There you go, baby…” I mumble into her skin. Her entire body rattles and she comes on my lips, squeezing my head between her thighs.

She
moves to a sitting position on the bed, and as soon as I stand up she pulls my boxers down. I want to tell her that she doesn’t have to give me head in return but, damn, her enthusiasm turns me the fuck on. Drew’s mouth closes over my dick and she grabs me at the base, shoving me into her throat. I grope her hair, and between the slurping, the licking, and the bobbing of her head, I have no hope for control.

“
Shit.” I push a little farther into her mouth, dig my fingers into the back of her head, and lose it…with a really high-pitched chime playing in the background.

Suddenly the sweet warmth of her mouth is gone, and we both look toward the sound.
I’ve only heard it a few times but enough to know who’s calling.

My girlfriend has a special ring, too.

“Crap. I was supposed to call him,” Drew whispers as she scoots back. She keeps moving away from me. “Fuck. I said yes, a real yes, to
him
. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck…” She goes to where her phone is, but immediately backs away, as if it’s a bomb with ten seconds left. Running across the room, she picks up her clothes and “fucks” her way into the bathroom.

I’m frozen until the ringtone cuts out.
Until reality swoops in. Holy shit, we just fucked up. I’m refraining from allowing myself to grasp just how much. I sit on the bed and exhale against my palms.
Fuck.
Now I sound like Drew in my head. My arousal drowns under torrential guilt. I don’t want to be like Henry and my mom, and I definitely don’t want to taint what the two of us had years ago. My relationship with Drew deserves better than this. I won’t make the choice for her, but I’m going to tell Lydia what’s going on. I owe her that, and
she
deserves better. I care about her a lot. I love her.
Just not as much as you still love Drew.

She walks out
of the bathroom, fully dressed again, and only meets my eyes for a moment before her gaze swivels past me, to the window. “So…things got a little carried away there…again.”
Uh, yeah, Spark, I’ll say; you’re still on my mouth.
“But it’s been a weird few days. My head is all over the place…” she says.

“
Yeah…” I don’t know if she’s talking to me or trying to explain to herself why we keep trying to fuck each other. “Are you going to tell Buck? Are you about to call him?”

“I have to
tell him. We kissed before. Once was,
maybe,
an accident, but twice is effort. What happened just now,
a lot of effort.
” Shaking her thoughts away, she walks around me and starts to re-pack her bag. “But not until I get back. I still want to help you. We just…we just have to be smarter. That can’t happen again, and I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe you and I should quit sleeping in the same room for good.”

“Definitely for
the remaining time that you’re here.”

“
Agreed. And for fuck’s sake, Jess…” Drew cracks a nervous smile. “Help a girl out; put some goddamn clothes on.”

****

The Cull is the gateway to Hell.

Or maybe one of
its circles.

There’s nothing but heat and
savagery here, and enough of both for this place to be the devil’s country house. Every opponent’s goal is to leave you in pieces that someone else will have to scrape off the canvas. And yet, here we are a week later, after word spreads of how El Americano
almost
beat Cocodrilo.

Sandrine, Drew and I are in another huge vacant building, a windowless warehouse with chipping paint this time, in the Industrial Vallejo area of Azcapotzalco. The dim lighting and the stagnant veil of cigarette smoke floating over the anxious crowd gives the place
a surreal feel. Or maybe it’s because I’ve wanted this to be just a dream for so long, and I’m still hoping that it is.

Enormous cages stretch across the floor from end to end, and people are shoving each other for the best viewing spots before the fights start. We pass shirtless men covered in scars and cartel tattoos, and equally tatted up women in crop tops and tight shorts. The place smells of sweat, and weed, and beer, and blood, and sweet rot, like fruit was kept here until it spoiled. Dirt tracked in from the outside cakes the floor, and grime clings to the wall. The noise is so severe it feels physical, like I’m being crushed from all sides by the sound. Men in ski masks, with automatic weapons strapped to their chests, knock a few people out of their way as they move through the mob. But most of them are just pushing because they can, and who the hell is going to complain?

Drew’s demeanor is calm but her fingers tighten around mine as we walk, and there
are so many people in here, we have no choice over which direction our feet move; you just have to go with the force of the crowd. The fans speak and wave and pat me on the back when they recognize me. Something alcoholic splashes onto my face when someone bumps me, and Drew’s hand slips out of mine, but I grab her before we’re separated.