To the Ends of the Earth: A Stripped Standalone (7 page)

I’m no stranger to violence.

It’s still a shock to see Luca in the ring.

There’s blood and sweat, maybe spit, some tears as his opponent’s nose makes a horrifying crunch. When Luca said
training,
I thought he meant push-ups and squats. Maybe some carefully contained pretend fights with protective padding.

Instead he’s wearing nothing but shorts slung low on his hips, gloves on his hands, and a mouth guard. The fight doesn’t seem to have rules. Trainers stand on either corner, hurling encouragement that sounds more like insults. Other fighters stop their training to watch Luca work. He takes out one man, then another. Then another.

“He’ll be okay.”

The voice startles me, and I turn to see a slender woman with brown hair and dark eyes. She’s sitting on the bleachers a couple rows back, a book folded open beside her.

“You look a little tense,” she says with a sympathetic smile. “Colin will take good care of him.”

I glance back at the ring, looking closer at the rough man outside Luca’s corner. “Colin?”

“He’s working with Luca. I saw you come in with him.”

“Oh. He’s a trainer?”

“Kind of. He used to fight. Now he trains fighters, but he’s real selective about it.” She grins. “None of the other trainers wanted to work with Luca, considering how little time he had. But that’s the kind of challenge Colin likes.”

My eyes widen. “I didn’t realize he’d be so far behind. Are you sure he’ll be safe?”

“For training, definitely. The fights can get dicey.”

I’m here to prevent violence. Not to cause it. “I told him he shouldn’t.”

She laughs. “If he’s anything like Colin, he won’t budge once he gets an idea in his head. I’m Allie, by the way.”

“Beth,” I say, feeling sheepish. She assumes that I’m with Luca, like we’re dating or something. What would she think if she knew Luca was only doing this to protect me? To protect Delilah? That he risked his safety for me?

“Are you new in town?” she asks.

“Very. We haven’t been to the hotel yet.”

Her mouth drops. “I can’t believe Luca brought you straight here. I’m going to have to talk to him. Or maybe just smack him for you.”

“It was my idea,” I say quickly. “I didn’t want to wait alone.”

She softens. “Well, feel free to talk to me while you’re here. Once the guys get into this fighting stuff, they’re in their own world. Us girls have to stick together.”

I don’t want to get close to someone. Don’t want to feel hope, only to be disappointed again. But the allure of friendship pulls too strongly. “Thank you,” I say, feeling shy.

A little girl with a pink tutu and a ponytail hops up the bleachers. I can’t tell how old she is—maybe six. Maybe seven. “Mama! I’m hungry. Can I have a pretzel? Is it time to go? Ms. Ruby said she would braid my hair, but I like a ponytail better.”

Allie’s face lights up with a love so bright it almost hurts to see. “Hey, Bailey. Look who I found. This is Ms. Beth. She’s here with Luca, the fighter your daddy is working with.”

The little girl makes an
o
with her mouth. Her cheeks flush pink. “Hi.”

Is this what Delilah will look like when she’s older? She has the same dark hair, straight and thick, unlike Delilah’s lush curls. They have the same wide eyes and baby-pink lips. My muscles feel tight, but I manage a smile. “Nice to meet you, Bailey.”

Then the little girl is back to tugging on her mother. Allie laughs while she extracts an apple. “Eat your fruit and then you can get a pretzel from the stand. I’m not sure when Daddy will be finished, so maybe you and I can stay for another twenty minutes. Then we’ll go home and have dinner. Okay?”

“Okay!” Bailey skips off, the picture of childhood innocence.

It should look wrong against the backdrop of harsh concrete and violent men. But even their cold expressions soften when she skips by, crunching into her apple with vigor. She’s completely at home, completely comfortable. Completely safe.

“That girl,” Allie says in a rueful tone. “Do you have any?”

My throat sticks. “One. She’s younger than Bailey. Twelve months.”

“Ohh, still a baby. I miss Bailey being that young.” Then she makes a face. “Though I wouldn’t go back to that time for anything.”

Even though her voice is light, I sense that she’s seen real darkness. I don’t want to ask, but I’m drawn to the shadows. They ground me. They remind me of home.

“Colin mentioned that you were going through a hard time,” she says softly.

The admission is torn from me. “I can’t seem to get away from it.”

Her eyes look older than her years. “You don’t have to tell me the details. If it helps you to know, I don’t mind telling you a little of my story. Colin isn’t actually her daddy. We met four years ago, when I was still struggling.”

Bailey’s childish confidence takes on a new depth as I realize she’s already experienced loss. Grief. The way Delilah’s experiencing it, before she’s even old enough to know. “What happened to her father?”

“He was…a troubled person.” She winces. “I’m not supposed to downplay it. He did bad things. I still don’t like to go as far as saying he was a bad person.”

An unexpected comfort fills me. “I know exactly what you mean.”

The feelings I have for Leader Allen are complex, layered. I despise him, but I respect him. And I definitely fear him. In the world he built, what he did to me wasn’t even wrong. It was his due. And even though I’m glad he’s dead, sometimes I miss him too.

She gives me a sad smile. “Maybe it would be easier if I could just hate him and forget him, but he’s always there. When Bailey smiles a certain way or sneezes—and it reminds me of him all over again. I can’t escape him.”

The same way I see Leader Allen in my baby girl. “So what do you do?”

Allie seems so at peace. So happy. If I could find just a small piece of that ease, that security. If I could look even half as serene as she does…

“Mostly I forgive him.”

Luca showers before he comes to me, blood trickling in pale rivulets from a cut on the side of his head. I look through the little compartments in the back of the limo until I find a napkin. I fold it once and reach for him.

He freezes. For a long moment I think he’ll refuse.

Then he bends his head, almost princely as he receives my touch. I press the thin cloth against him, gentle in the face of his wound. His skin is hot and pulsing beneath my hand, body still flushed from the gym.

He might be a lion, lethal and wild, but he’s my lion.

And I want him on my side.

“I can’t believe you fought so hard.”

He takes the napkin from me, his smile more like a grimace. “Sorry. Figured you’d rather stay at the hotel than see me like that.”

“No, it was…” I’m not sure how to describe his fighting. Brutal. Beautiful. “You were so skilled out there. Allie told me that the other trainers wouldn’t work with you.”

He laughs. “They didn’t want me on their record if I got my ass handed to me.”

“You beat eight guys in a row.”

“Yeah, and I bet they’re feeling pretty fucking—pretty stupid right about now.”

I had to smile. Swear words used to make me flinch, but I’m getting accustomed to them. Like getting a tan when you’ve been out in the sun a lot. Soon they might not bother me. “Serves them right.”

“I’m glad I’m working with Colin. He’s tough. Straightforward. That’s what I need this close to the fight. Because those guys were just the beginning.”

And already bruises bloom along his cheek. “Are you sure you should do this? What if we just told people you’re going to do it, so the word gets to my brother, and then you can pull out before the fight?”

He looks offended. “And pussy out? If I say I’m going to fight, I’m going to fight. Besides, I want to see the look of shock on their faces when I take the title.”

I want to tell him it wouldn’t be weak, that sometimes surviving is the only kind of strength that matters. That’s the lesson I learned. And I think it might be the one Allie did too. But I know that a man like Luca can never embrace it. He’s forged himself into too powerful a weapon to ever bow down.

The limo slows, and I glance at the tinted window. My breath catches at the black overhang that covers a shiny brass revolving door. Burnished-copper sconces line either side of the walkway. Close-set bricks form a walkway from the curb to the door.

It’s an old-world style charm. An expensive charm.

A valet opens the door, looking unfazed by Luca’s rough appearance. He changed into a T-shirt and jeans, faintly damp as if he dressed before completely drying off. He looks rugged and dangerous. We draw more than a few glances from the patrons inside, but the woman behind the desk doesn’t even blink when he hands over his credit card.

“Your suite is on the eighteenth floor, Mr. Almanzar.”

He takes the cards with a gruff, “Thank you.”

“Wait,” I say, halting. My past taught me to be afraid of men. To be afraid of
everything.
But I don’t want to live in fear anymore. “Do you have a first-aid kit we could use?”

The woman glances at Luca, then back at me. “Of course. I’ll have the concierge send one up with your luggage.”

If he insists on fighting, then I’m going to insist on patching him up.

And I’m taking Candy’s advice. I’ll trust him and see what happens. It’s a risk, but one I can make without jeopardizing Delilah. It’s just him and me for the next week.

My last chance to see what’s possible. Intimacy.
Sex.

As for Allie’s advice, that will be harder to follow.

Luca raises his eyebrow at me but doesn’t comment. He turns to the woman. “And send up dinner while you’re at it. Steaks, medium rare. Some wine.”

“Of course,” she says, looking both apprehensive and awed.

Only when we step into a mirrored elevator does Luca mutter, “I’m not dying.”

“Then you won’t mind if I wash your cut.” I hold my breath, waiting for him to slap me.

After a shocked pause, he smiles—slow and sure. “This is the girl I found in Harmony Hills. The one I dragged into the car and tied up in my hotel bed.”

I felt reckless then. And powerful, even though I was his captive.

Because I finally broke free of Leader Allen. It had been an illusion, that freedom. Leader Allen followed me into my dreams, my memories. Even the pretty face of my little girl. And he sent my brother after me, a physical danger to rival the emotional pain.

Allie somehow escaped her past, but I wasn’t sure I’d be lucky enough.

Forgiveness or not, there’s someone out there who wants me dead.

“This is the girl who’s terrified,” I whisper.

He takes a step forward, crowding me against the elevator door. I feel smooth metal at my back, a vertical line where the doors will open. “Terrified and fighting anyway,” he murmurs. “You and I have that in common.”

He looked invincible in the ring. “You?”

“Every damn time. So many times I almost got numb to the feeling, but with you it all came rushing back. Twice as hard. Twice as long. Everything sharp and deep.”

I’m breathing harder, aware that we have this in common too. When he’s in the room, things feel different, more clear, more focused. As if I can count every vein in a petal, every speck of pollen in the center of a flower.

His head lowers. His lips are an inch away, his breath a soft caress. His shoulders block out the light from above, leaving his face in shadow. All I have are my memories, the bruises and the blood—the fierce protectiveness that I can take shelter in.

He’s going to kiss me.

I’m going to let him. Kiss me. Touch me. Everything has been building to this.

A ding sounds from above us. The doors slide open, and I fall backward. Strong arms keep me from landing on marble, and I stand up straight on shaky legs. Luca’s expression hardens. He’s not about to kiss me anymore. And the disappointment echoes in my chest.

The suite has two bedrooms. Luca disappears into one room, slamming the door hard enough to keep me from knocking. I stand in the living room, unaccountably dejected. I should be grateful that he’s not making a move on me. The training left no doubt that he’s a violent man. Bloodthirsty. Lucifer himself—that’s how I saw him at the beginning.

I know from the night in my apartment that he can be gentle, too.

My room is large, with a plush bed as big as my old apartment bedroom. Plus, there’s a desk and a small sitting space. A bathroom just for me. It all feels oversize and uncomfortable, this much space. Like I’m alone even though Luca’s in the same suite.

I find my luggage already brought upstairs and unpacked into the dresser. The hot water scalds away the traces of travel, the lingering remnants of aggression from the gym.

Candy gave me a phone before I left, so I call her. She gives me a play-by-play of Delilah’s day since I left, including noodles and watermelon for lunch, arts and crafts with Candy’s stash of burlesque glitter and feathers, and twelve readings in a row of
If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.

I’m smiling with tears in my eyes. “I’m sorry. She loves that mouse.”

“No, it’s a good story. I explained to her about bodily autonomy and consent. The mouse may
ask
for a mirror next, but you don’t have to give it to him.”

I hold back a laugh. “She’s barely one year old.”

“You might have a point. But we learned way too late.”

My smile fades. “Yeah. We did.”

She clears her throat. “Anyway. Do you want to talk to her? Oh, you can read her a book!”

“Let me guess. She picks
If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.
”

“Ding ding. Should I point the camera at the pages so you can read it?”

“Ha! I had it memorized after the first two hundred times. Just turn the pages for me.”

There weren’t bedtime stories in Harmony Hills. Only Bible stories. Cautionary tales about women who made the wrong choice, who were tempted by sin. From the very beginning, Eve was tempted by the apple in the Garden of Eden. Is that what I’m doing here in Chicago?

Am I going to burn?

I wish I could forget every verse I ever learned, but I can’t. They’re buried too deep, imprinted on my soul. It’s hard to tell where my thoughts end and the Bible begins sometimes.

Is that how it will be for Delilah, dreaming of mice? Will the stories she loves now torment her when she’s older? Will she be tempted by sin? Maybe there’s no escaping it, whether it comes in the form of an apple or a cookie.