Beautiful Disaster (8 page)

My breathing evened out and my eyes grew heavy; it wasn't long before I fell asleep. When my eyes opened again, the night sky had darkened the window. Muffled voices filtered down the hall from the living room, including Travis's deep tone. I crept down the hall, and then froze when I heard my name.

“Abby gets it, Trav. Don't beat yourself up,” Shepley said.

“You're already going to the date party. What's the harm in asking her out?” America asked.

I stiffened, waiting for his response. “I don't want to date her; I just want to be around her. She's … different.”

“Different how?” America asked, sounding irritated.

“She doesn't put up with my bullshit, it's refreshing. You said it yourself, Mare. I'm not her type. It's just not … like that with us.”

“You're closer to her type than you know,” America said.

I backed up as quietly as I could, and when the wooden boards creaked beneath my bare feet, I reached over to pull Travis's bedroom door shut, and then walked down the hall.

“Hey, Abby,” America said with a grin. “How was your nap?”

“I was out for five hours. That's closer to a coma than a nap.”

Travis stared at me for a moment, and when I smiled at him, he walked straight toward me, grabbed my hand, and pulled me down the hall to his bedroom. He shut the door, and I felt my heart
pounding in my chest, bracing for him to say something else to crush my ego.

His eyebrows pulled in. “I'm so sorry, Pidge. I was an asshole to you earlier.”

I relaxed a bit, seeing the remorse in his eyes. “I didn't know you were mad at me.”

“I wasn't mad at you. I just have a bad habit of lashing out at those I care about. It's a piss-poor excuse, I know, but I am sorry,” he said, enveloping me in his arms.

I nestled my cheek against his chest, settling in. “What were you mad about?”

“It's not important. The only thing I'm worried about is you.”

I leaned back to look up at him. “I can handle your temper tantrums.”

His eyes scanned my face for several moments before a small smile spread across his lips. “I don't know why you put up with me, and I don't know what I'd do if you didn't.”

I could smell the mixture of cigarettes and mint on his breath, and I looked at his lips, my body reacting to how close we were. Travis's expression changed and his breathing staggered—he had noticed, too.

He leaned in infinitesimally, and then we both jumped when his cell phone rang. He sighed, pulling it from his pocket.

“Yeah. Hoffman? Jesus … all right. That'll be an easy grand. Jefferson?” He looked at me and winked. “We'll be there.” He hung up and took my hand. “Come with me.” He pulled me down the hall. “That
was Adam,” he said to Shepley. “Brady Hoffman will be at Jefferson in ninety minutes.”

Shepley nodded and stood up, digging his cell phone from his pocket. He quickly tapped in the information, sending exclusive text invitations to those who knew about the Circle. Those ten or so members would text ten members on their list, and so on, until the every member knew exactly where the floating fight ring would be held.

“Here we go,” America said, smiling. “We'd better freshen up!”

The air in the apartment was tense and buoyant at the same time. Travis seemed the least affected, slipping on his boots and a white tank top as if he were leaving to run an errand.

America led me down the hall to Travis's bedroom and frowned. “You have to change, Abby. You can't wear that to the fight.”

“I wore a freaking cardigan last time and you didn't say anything!” I protested.

“I didn't think you'd go last time. Here,” she threw clothes at me, “put this on.”

“I am not wearing this!”

“Let's go!” Shepley called from the living room.

“Hurry up!” America snapped, running into Shepley's room.

I pulled on the deep-cut yellow halter top and tight low-rise jeans America had thrown at me, and then slipped on a pair of heels, raking a brush through my hair as I shuffled down the hall. America came out of her room with a short green baby-doll dress and matching heels, and when we rounded the corner, Travis and Shepley were standing at the door.

Travis's mouth fell open. “Oh, hell no. Are you trying to get me killed? You've gotta change, Pidge.”

“What?” I asked, looking down.

America grabbed her hips. “She looks cute, Trav, leave her alone!”

Travis took my hand and led me down the hall. “Get a T-shirt on … and some sneakers. Something comfortable.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I'll be more worried about who's looking at your tits in that shirt instead of Hoffman,” he said, stopping at his door.

“I thought you said you didn't give a damn what anyone else thought?”

“That's a different scenario, Pigeon.” Travis looked down at my chest and then up at me. “You can't wear this to the fight, so please … just … please just change,” he stuttered, shoving me into the room and shutting me in.

“Travis!” I yelled. I kicked off my heels, and shoved my feet into my Converses. Then I wiggled out of my halter top, throwing it across the room. The first cotton shirt that touched my hands I yanked over my head, and then ran down the hall, standing in the doorway.

“Better?” I huffed, pulling my hair into a ponytail.

“Yes!” Travis said, relieved. “Let's go!”

We raced to the parking lot. I jumped on the back of Travis's motorcycle as he ripped the engine and peeled out, flying down the road to the college. I squeezed his middle in anticipation; the rushing to get out the door sent adrenaline surging through my veins.

Travis drove over the curb, parking his motorcycle in the shadows behind the Jefferson Liberal Arts building. He pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and then grabbed my hand, smiling as we snuck to the back of the building. He stopped at an open window near the ground.

My eyes widened with realization. “You're joking.”

Travis smiled. “This is the VIP entrance. You should see how everyone else gets in.”

I shook my head as he worked his legs through, and then disappeared. I leaned down and called into oblivion, “Travis!”

“Down here, Pidge. Just come in feet first, I'll catch you.”

“You're out of your damn mind if you think I'm jumping into the dark!”

“I'll catch you! I promise! Now get your ass in here!”

I sighed, touching my forehead with my hand. “This is insane!”

I sat down, and then scooted forward until half of my body was dangling in the dark. I turned onto my stomach and pointed my toes, feeling for the floor. I waited for my feet to touch Travis's hand, but I lost my grip, squealing when I fell backward. A pair of hands grabbed me, and I heard Travis's voice in the darkness.

“You fall like a girl,” he chuckled.

He lowered my feet to the ground and then pulled me deeper into the blackness. After a dozen steps, I could hear the familiar yelling of numbers and names, and then the room was illuminated. A lantern
sat in the corner, lighting the room just enough that I could make out Travis's face.

“What are we doing?”

“Waiting. Adam has to run through his spiel before I go in.”

I fidgeted. “Should I wait here, or should I go in? Where do I go when the fight starts? Where's Shep and Mare?”

“They went in the other way. Just follow me out, I'm not sending you into that shark pit without me. Stay by Adam; he'll keep you from getting crushed. I can't look out for you and throw punches at the same time.”

“Crushed?”

“There's going to be more people here tonight. Brady Hoffman is from State. They have their own Circle there. It will be our crowd and their crowd, so the room's gonna get crazy.”

“Are you nervous?” I asked.

He smiled, looking down at me. “No. You look a little nervous, though.”

“Maybe,” I admitted.

“If it'll make you feel better, I won't let him touch me. I won't even let him get one in for his fans.”

“How are you going to manage that?”

He shrugged. “I usually let them get one in—to make it look fair.”

“You …? You let people hit you?”

“How much fun would it be if I just massacred someone and they never got a punch in? It's not good for business, no one would bet against me.”

“What a load of crap,” I said, crossing my arms.

Travis raised an eyebrow. “You think I'm yankin' your chain?”

“I find it hard to believe that you only get hit when you let them hit you.”

“Would you like to make a wager on that, Abby Abernathy?” he smiled, his eyes animated.

I smiled. “I'll take that bet. I think he'll get one in on you.”

“And if he doesn't? What do I win?” he asked. I shrugged as the yelling on the other side of the wall grew to a roar. Adam greeted the crowd, and then went over the rules.

Travis's mouth stretched into a wide grin. “If you win, I'll go without sex for a month.” I raised an eyebrow and he smiled again. “But if I win, you have to stay with me for a month.”

“What? I'm staying with you, anyway! What kind of bet is that?” I shrieked over the noise.

“They fixed the boilers at Morgan today,” Travis said with a smile and a wink.

A smirk softened my expression as Adam called Travis's name. “Anything is worth watching you try abstinence for a change.”

Travis kissed my cheek, and then walked out, standing tall. I followed behind, and when we crossed into the next room, I was startled by the number of people packed together in the small space. It was standing room only, but the shoving and shouting only amplified once we entered the room. Travis nodded in my direction, and then Adam's hand was on my shoulders, pulling me to his side.

I leaned into Adam's ear. “I've got two on Travis,” I said.

Adam's eyebrows shot up as he watched me pull two Benjamins from my pocket. He held out his palm, and I slapped the bills into his hand.

“You're not the Goody Two-shoes I thought you were,” he said, giving me a once-over.

Brady was at least a head taller than Travis, and I gulped when I saw them stand toe to toe. Brady was massive, twice Travis's size and solid muscle. I couldn't see Travis's expression, but it was obvious that Brady was out for blood.

Adam pressed his lips against my ear. “You might want to plug your ears, kiddo.”

I cupped my hands on each side of my head, and Adam sounded the horn. Instead of attacking, Travis took a few steps back. Brady swung, and Travis dodged to the right. Brady swung again, and Travis ducked and sidestepped to the other side.

“What the hell? This ain't a boxing match, Travis!” Adam yelled.

Travis landed a punch to Brady's nose. The volume in the basement was deafening then. Travis sank a left hook into Brady's jaw, and my hands flew over my mouth when Brady attempted a few more punches, each one catching air. Brady fell against his entourage when Travis elbowed him in the face. Just when I thought it was almost over, Brady came out swinging again. Throw after throw, Brady couldn't seem to keep up. Both men were covered in sweat, and I gasped when Brady missed another punch, slamming his hand into a cement pillar. When he folded over, cradling his fist beneath him, Travis went in for the kill.

He was relentless, first bringing his knee to Brady's face and then pummeling him over and over until Brady stumbled and hit the ground. The noise level boomed as Adam left my side to throw the red square on Brady's bloodied face.

Travis disappeared behind his fans, and I pressed my back against the wall, feeling my way to the doorway we came in. Reaching the lantern was a huge relief. I worried about being knocked down and trampled.

My eyes focused on doorway, waiting for the crowd to spill into the small room. After several minutes and no sign of Travis, I prepared to retrace my steps to the window. With the number of people trying to leave at once, it wasn't safe enough to chance wandering around.

Just as I stepped into the darkness, footsteps crunched against the loose concrete on the floor. Travis was looking for me in a panic.

“Pigeon!”

“I'm here!” I called out, running into his arms.

Travis looked down and frowned. “You scared the shit out of me! I almost had to start another fight just to get to you … I finally get here and you're gone!”

“I'm glad you're back. I wasn't looking forward to trying to find my way in the dark.”

All worry left his face, and he smiled widely. “I believe you lost the bet.”

Adam stomped in, looked at me, and then glowered at Travis. “We need to talk.”

Travis winked at me. “Stay put. I'll be right back.”

They disappeared into the darkness. Adam raised his voice a few times, but I couldn't make out what
he was saying. Travis returned, shoving a wad of cash into his pocket, and then he offered a half smile. “You're going to need more clothes.”

“You're really going to make me stay with you for a month?”

“Would you have made me go without sex for a month?”

I laughed, knowing I would. “We better stop at Morgan.”

Travis beamed. “This should be interesting.”

As Adam passed, he slammed my winnings into my palm, and then merged into the dissipating mob.

Travis raised an eyebrow. “You put in?”

I smiled and shrugged. “I thought I should get the full experience.”

He led me to the window and then crawled out, turning to help me up and out to the fresh night air. The crickets were chirping in the shadows, stopping just long enough to let us pass. The monkey grass that lined the sidewalk weaved in the gentle breeze, reminding me of the sound the ocean makes when I wasn't quite close enough to hear the waves breaking. It wasn't too hot or too cold; it was the perfect night.