Banging Reaper(2)

I hate it. I can’t stand all the eyes crawling over me. I much rather slink into the back of the room and disappear against the wall. But Ethan loves attention, he thrives on attention. He needs it like the rest of us need air.

This is Ethan’s moment of glory. He’s finally got his shot at the title he’s had his eyes on for more than a year. He’s worked so hard to get here and now it’s about to pay off. The room is packed, the noise level is deafening. Everyone is here to see Ethan, to show support for him. It’s a pre-celebration as if no one expects him to lose.

I know better.

I caught a glimpse of the guy Ethan is supposed to fight over an hour ago when we passed each other briefly in the hall. I was searching for the ladies bathroom. I heard from somewhere, somewhere I can’t remember, that they call him Reaper.

I’m afraid to know why.

It was just a brief glimpse, we passed each other so quick I didn’t get a good look at him, but after those few seconds, after seeing the sharp calculation in his eyes as he sized me up before I even realized who he was, I was left with a bad feeling in my gut. If anyone were to beat Ethan I felt like it could be him.

That feeling still lingers.

Ethan grins his million dollar grin of bright white teeth that never fail to dazzle and jerks his chin a little as if he’s trying to flip back his hair. He used to have such beautiful wavy blonde hair, but once he took up fighting he shaved it all off.

Ethan’s bulging arm is already wrapped around my waist. He likes to keep me super close before his match. He leans toward me, having to bend down to reach my ear.

“Smile,” he hisses between those dazzling teeth low enough that no one else can hear.

My lips stretch automatically. I only have one job, one reason for being here. I’m his pretty lucky charm.

I love Ethan, like a friend, I really do but this has become quite the chore. When Ethan first took up fighting I was a bit confused. It just seemed so out of the blue. So unlike him. Not the guy I knew at all.

We first connected in middle school. Two outcast geeks who weren’t quite nerds but definitely not cool. We had so much in common. We both loved the same geeky books and the same awful TV shows. It was as if the universe was throwing us together knowing we were perfect for each other. Knowing we would be best of friends.

Ethan lived in the same part of town as me throughout middle school, but during our freshman year of high school his father’s electronic business expanded and Ethan moved to the upper side. We were still friends though for the most part. I guess it’s only natural that we grew apart during high school especially with puberty and all. Ethan had money, he became more popular and hung out with the popular crowds. But he always made time for me after school. And I just kind of stayed the same until I graduated and lost my grandmother.

My mother has never been in the picture. I was her mistake. To her, I’m living, breathing, walking and talking regret. She dropped me off with my grandmother when I was five years old and never looked back.

And I’m thankful each day that she did. It was probably the only thing in her life she got right.

I love my grandmother. She was already in her mid-sixties when I came into her life, well past the age expected to raise children, but still she took me on. She never made me feel guilty that she did it either. To her I wasn’t a burden, I was her joy. She once confessed to me that I was her second chance at life. Like God had given her another shot to do it all over. She made me feel like her raising me was the best thing to ever happen to her.

I’m grateful that we had so many wonderful days together but I still miss her. She died a year and a half ago. She was all that I had. It was always just her and me against the world. She was retired, living off a small pension. I didn’t even have the money to bury her. Ethan stepped up for me, he took care of it all.

Ethan has been amazing to me. When my grandmother passed I had to sell off her house to settle her bills. There was nothing left, and I was already scraping by, just keeping my neck above water during my freshman year of college. Not only did Ethan cover my grandmother’s services and her burial, he set me up with a job in his father’s flagship store. Thanks to the job I earn just enough wages now to cover my apartment and other living expenses. Thanks to him I don’t have to worry about being homeless or starving to death while I try to finish college.

So I owe Ethan, big time.

He’s a great friend, and he’s never once asked me to repay him. But in the past few months Ethan has changed a lot.

First, it was the interest in fighting. I thought it would be a phase, perhaps something he would try, decide it wasn’t for him and move on. But he didn’t. If anything, he’s become more and more engrossed with it. Some might say he’s obsessed.

I’ve watched him transform from a lean caterpillar to a butterfly on steroids. Not only has his body grown huge, but his ego seems to have grown right along with it.

I’m not even sure I know who he is anymore.

Ethan has also grown extremely superstitious, hence me being his pretty lucky charm. I agreed to accompany him to his first fight. Being his best friend, even if I didn’t agree with what he was doing, I wanted to give him my support.

Ethan won that first fight so he insisted I attend his next. Then, when he won the next one, I was expected to be at his third. Somewhere along the way, he convinced me that I should dress a little more like the other girls that hang around the fighters. One thing lead to another and now I’m standing next to him in a pair of short shorts, ankle-breaking heels and a top that’s nothing more than a red bra.

So I can understand the leers and the rude whispers, I get it, I totally do. By the way I’m dressed and according to their caveman logic, I’m practically asking for it.

But I’m so done.

I’ve paid my dues, and this is Ethan’s title shot. I’ve supported him along the way, it should be enough. After this fight, I’m not going to play his lucky charm anymore. It’s silly anyway. He’s not winning because I’m here with him. He’s winning because he wants to win and because he’s training for it. This superstitious foolishness has gone on for too long. I need to stop enabling it. I’ll continue to support Ethan as a friend but from afar.

“You can go ahead and find your seat, Avery.” Ethan grins down at me, pulling me from my thoughts. “The officials are here. Want to give me a kiss for good luck?”

I blink up at Ethan. Did I hear him right? He wants me to give him a kiss? This is a first. I mean he’s not a bad looking guy, I’m sure any other girl would be happy to kiss him.

Just not this girl.

Even with his head shaved I can look at Ethan and admit that aesthetically he meets all the standards for being hot. He has high cheekbones, soft pink lips and gorgeous baby blue eyes. Honestly, I don’t know why I’ve never looked at him like he’s kissable. Our relationship is strictly platonic, well, at least it had been until now.

Maybe I’m reading too much into this...

But no, his face is coming down to me. Shit, he’s totally coming in for the kiss. I should probably do something.

I panic.

I turn my face and instead of giving Ethan a good luck kiss those soft lips of his brush across my cheek instead.

He pulls back and for a moment his eyes flash. He looks pissed. Then he looks away from me and that dazzling smile of his returns for the crowd.

“Go, Avery,” Ethan hisses.

Well, that leaves no doubt, I totally pissed him off.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize. “I was just…”

Ethan doesn’t let me finish, he quickly cuts me off. “Go,” he says loudly, loudly enough for the guys standing next to him to hear.

He turns away from me and for some reason it hurts.

Why, I wonder as I walk out of the room, do I feel like I’ve done something wrong?





Chapter Two





Chase




This is my favorite part right now. The bell is about to ring any second and I get to do my job. I get to do what I am paid a very hefty sum to do. I get to punch someone, and not only is it legal but I am fully encouraged to hurt him as much as possible.

God, I fucking love my job.

“Fight!” Harry yells to us as his hand comes down to signal it’s time for the festivities to begin.

This is when the boys get separated from the men.

I have watched every taped fight Ethan has ever had. He loves to charge in headlong with fists flying. More than likely he does it to throw a fighter off his game and put him on the defense. I've done that myself a time or two. I will stand up against a guy who loves to bang it out or I will grapple a guy down to the mat when he is supposed to be one of the best. I like this style of fighting the most. Ethan has hard hands and has won most of his fights from quick knockouts or submissions. He hasn't had a fight last past the first round.

Ethan punches straight at me with what has to be in his mind knockout punches. He’s swinging for the fences here.

I dodge, take one on the arm and then just wrap myself around him. I use my weight as a counterbalance and pull him down fast with him getting partially on top of me.

It's usually not the best place for someone to be but I don't mind. My ground game, in my opinion, is far superior to his and I prove as much by throwing a couple of quick jabs to his face then I grab for his neck.