Healing Melody (18 page)

Four days after the fight and I’m still sore in a million different places. Although my body aches, I must admit I’m happy. Melody wired the hundred thousand into my account before the fight. And after my victory in the octagon, I’m a bit of a hero at the gym. I guess Shane was right. There still are some fighting years in me. I’m about to lie down in bed, try to catch some sleep, when my cell phone rings. It’s her.
 

“How are you?” she asks. I can tell by the tone in her voice that she’s rattled, nervous.

“I’m good. You?”

“I wanted to call you but didn’t want to bother you, in case you were recovering. How’d you do… in the fight?”

“I won.”

“Congratulations.” There’s a long pause. “Can I see you… tonight?”

I slowly sit up in bed. My body needs some rest, but I can hear the desperation in her voice. “Yeah, sure.”

“Thank you,” she replies.

The way she sounds makes me realize tonight may not be about sex.
 

“No worries. I’ll see you in a bit.”

I hang up and get dressed.
 

When I arrive at her place – even though I can’t see her face – I can tell by her body language that she’s a nervous wreck. She offers me a beer, which I take. Then, we walk into the living room.
 

She heads to the bay window that overlooks her backyard. She stares into the night. Mingus, the puppy, is at my heels. I scoop him up with one hand and let him rest in the crook of my arm. I take a swig from my beer.
 

“What’s up?” I ask.

She slowly turns around. She stares at me through the eyeholes in her mask.

“What’s up… Is that I wish I never met you.”

Shit. Does she want to cancel our arrangement? I thought we had a good thing going. Did I do something wrong? Does she want the hundred grand she wired into my account back?
 

“Why?” is the only word I manage to mutter.

She sighs.
 
She steps toward a laptop resting on the grand piano. “Because of this,” she says as she presses a button. A song begins playing through the speakers.

You rob my gut

Of all that I got

Take away my smile

My blood, my tears

My youth, my years

They’ve all disappeared

But I’m fighter in a cage

A tiger filled with rage

The battle has been staged

She takes a seat on the piano stool. We’re both silent as her voice echoes through the room. It’s a slow, sad song. Raw and intense. I listen to the lyrics and realize the song is about me. About me being a fighter. But when the chorus kicks in and the next verse plays, I realize the song is about much more. It’s like she stared into my soul and put into words every thing I’ve been struggling with. But how? I look at her in disbelief as the song continues.
 

I’ll never give up
 

I won’t break for you

You’ll have to kill me you fool

But you still want more

Turn me into a whore

I can’t settle this score

My heart’s gone numb

There’s only empty space
 

Where love’s memory took place

Suddenly, anguish overwhelms me. I’m being attacked from the inside. I picture Max, staring at me from the hospital bed. His eyes almost lifeless. Tears run down my face.
Fuck.
I’m crying. Right here, in front of her. I wipe away the tears with the back of my hand. I bend down and lower Mingus to the floor. I lean against the wall and close my eyes as the song continues.
 

Maybe I’ll meet you again

Up the stairs at heaven’s end

Until then, farewell, my friend

I want to shove the emotion creeping up my throat back down, but I can’t. There’s something about her voice, the way it sounds, her words.
 

Fuck, I’m still crying. I can’t stop.
 

l drop to the floor, squat, and lower my head. I put the beer down.

But until that day

I’ll fight and I’ll pray

I’ll fight and I’ll pray

Until the pain goes away

The song ends.

Silence fills the space between us.

He’s like a wounded animal, crouching on the floor before me. He’s embarrassed, ashamed of this uncontrollable show of emotion. I’ve never seen someone break like this in front of me. I feel terrible. I
knew
he was haunted by loss. But I never thought my music could take him to such a painful place. Seeing this strong fighter crumble in my presence, when reminded of his son, brings me to tears.
 

I’ve been selfish. I didn’t consider the impact the song might have on him. I asked him to come over so he could comfort me, because I was frightened by the thought of going on tour. But now, I realize he is the one who needs comforting. I’ve been obsessed with my own problems, my own fears, my own anger, and my own insecurities. I didn’t realize the depth of his loss. Sure, I could understand it in the abstract. But to actually go through something like that… losing your child… that’s unimaginable.
 

I wish I never wrote this song.
 

I need to apologize. But words aren’t enough. I want to comfort him somehow. I want to kiss him.
 

Then slowly, I realize what I need to do.
 

I reach behind my head and loosen my mask. He’s still looking at the ground, avoiding my gaze. He’s struggling to find composure.
 

My hands trembling, I slowly slip the mask off, revealing my face.
 

He will be
the one
. The first, to see me as I truly am.
 

I want him to know that seeing his pain has given me the strength to move forward. I want him to know how grateful I am that he’s helped me.
 

Having him see me, without my mask, is the only gesture that makes sense.

I take a few steps forward. He’s still hiding his face.

My body is shaking with nerves.
 

“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice quivering. “For what happened. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for my song to…” I can’t finish the sentence. Words are inadequate.
 

My fingers tremble as I clutch the mask in my hands.

I can’t look at her. I don’t want her to see me like this. I’m a pussy. A fuckin’ mess.

There’s a long silence. I hear her footsteps getting closer. She’s standing over me.

“I’m so sorry,” she says softly. “For what happened. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for my song to…”

I nod my head slowly. “It’s okay,” I mumble. I can hear the weakness in my voice. I still can’t look her in the eyes. I keep my head low and stare at the floor. I’m almost sick by how weak I am right now. I can’t be weak. I have to be strong. I have to move forward. I have to live the life Max never got the chance too.
 

When I finally look up, I see something white in my line of sight. It’s her mask. She’s holding it in her trembling hand.
 

Stunned, I look up.
 

I can see her face.
 

Slowly, I rise.

She looks straight at me, her face exposed. I explore her scar-pulled skin, the discoloration.
 

In shock, I look into her eyes. I don’t know what to say. Just seconds ago, I was in the midst of an emotional storm thinking about Max. Now, I’m standing in awe of her courage.

“You’re the reason I can finally do this,” she says, her voice shaking.

I step forward and gently run my hand over her cheek.

“It’s pretty bad, isn’t it?” she asks, looking distressed.

I slowly shake my head. There are no words for a moment like this.
 

I lean forward and kiss her.

I dip my tongue into her warm mouth. Our tongues come together in a dance.
 

“You taste good,” she says in between kisses.

I wrap my arms around her and embrace her tightly.

“Thank you,” I tell her.

“For what?” she asks, confused.

“Just thank you,” I reply.

When I look at her, I notice her eyes are filled with tears. We kiss again. The kisses grow more passionate. And soon, kisses aren’t enough. I yank off my t-shirt and she presses her hands against my chest. I reach for her skirt, lift it and pull down her panties.
 

I tug on her bottom lip and growl. “I need you… now.”
 

“Take me,” she breathes, as she presses her lips against mine.

There’s no time for the bedroom. I want to get inside her at once. I feel intrinsic, unbridled passion for her. I lower her to the floor and slip her undies off her feet. Quickly unzipping my fly, I yank out my cock. I’m already hard, desperately craving her.

She reaches and tugs on my shaft. She guides it toward the voice between her legs.

As we lie on her living room floor, staring deeply into each other’s eyes, I slide my cock inside her.
 

She tilts her head back with a groan. A smile spreads over her face. I thank God that mask is finally off. I lean forward and kiss her again.

As I grind my hips against hers, driving my cock in deeper, she moans with pleasure. She wraps her legs around me and grabs my ass.

She dips her tongue into my mouth and grins.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long,” she says, breathlessly.

The heat between us intensifies. Our bodies meld, our tongues dance. We let go together. And when we come, we come together. Both of us groan into each other’s ears. After we orgasm, we just lie still, staring at each other.
 

I gently touch her face.

“Why now?” I ask.

She shrugs and rests her head against my shoulder. “I don’t know what came over me,” she confesses. “When I saw you crying in front of me, I realized you were vulnerable. You looked so alone, in so much pain. I know what that feels like. I wanted you to know that you weren’t alone. I felt an urge to comfort you. To kiss you. The mask was in the way. So, without really thinking, I took it off. You kissed me first though. That was a surprise.”

“I can’t believe I cried like that. I’m such a pussy,” I mutter.
 

“Grown men cry, Kade. It’s good to let out your emotions,” she says.

I look at her and grin. Then I kiss her one more time.
 

As our lips part, she looks at me and sighs.
 

“That song,” she says. “I wrote it the night you were at the fight. My label released it today. It hit number one.”

I’m surprised by the defeated look on her face.

“Most people would be happy about a thing like that,” I say.

She looks at me, her face filled with worry. “They want me to tour this summer, Kade. I’m petrified. People are going to be so cruel,” she fears. “When they see me, looking like this.”

“Fuck them,” I tell her. “You can take it.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“Not at all. Every day will be a battle. But you’re a fighter.”

She shakes her head. “I’m not like you.”

“Yes, you are,” I tell her. “That’s why when we fuck, it’s so amazing. We’ve got the same spirit. We just got the shit kicked out of us for a bit. We both lost our way. But you’ve got a gift, Melody. You’re still here so you can share it with the world.”

“So, it’s now or never, you’re basically telling me.”

I shrug. “There’s never going to be a good time. Just like there’s never enough time to train for a fight. You just have to get in there and slug it out. But I don’t need to tell you any of this. You just wrote a song about it.”

“You know the only good thing that came from my accident?” she whispers.

“What?” I ask.

“I met you.”

As I pull her closer to me, I’m filled with a sense of gratitude. I’m happy to be here, with her.