Banging Reaper(7)

My head aches and I know I should let it rest.

I squeeze my eyes shut, but all I see is him. He looked so concerned, so honest. When he came out of nowhere, pulling Ethan away from me, enacting vengeance with his bare fists, he looked like some savage, bloody, avenging angel. For a moment, I could have sworn I was hallucinating. It didn’t look real. I watched as Chase punched Ethan in the face and body, over and over again, telling him “Never. Hit. A. Woman.”

And I felt safe. For the first time since my grandmother passed, I felt like there was someone out there looking out for me. Someone who would protect me. Someone who would do bodily harm for me.

I wasn’t alone.





Chapter Five





Avery




I wake up to a loud banging on my door. Is it the cops, I wonder as I bolt upright. Usually the cops only knock that loud in this neighborhood. And I should know, I’ve heard it more than a couple of times over the past year.

The knocking grows louder if that’s even possible.

“Just a minute!” I cry out. “I’m coming!”

Fuck, I hope I get to them before they bust my door down. I can’t afford to replace the door.

In my haste to get up, I end up tangled in my blanket and roll out of bed, on to the floor. By a stroke of luck I land on my ass and not my head. It doesn’t make the pounding hurt any less though.

The knocking starts up again, quicker, louder, and definitely impatient.

“Seriously! I’m coming, just a second!” I scream as I shake off the blanket and run for the door.

I twist back my deadbolt, pull open the door and my mouth hits the floor.

“It’s you?!” just flies past my lips.

Chase is there. One fist is poised in the air as if he was just about to bang on my door again. He looks just as surprised, just as shocked as I feel.

I bet he’s feeling even more shocked as I slam the door shut in his face.

I need clothes. Oh my god, I’m half naked. I run back to the bedroom, grab up my blanket from the floor and wrap it around myself.

What is he even doing here?

I run back to the door and reach out to pull it open. Just as I do, half the blanket slides off my shoulder.

“Hi,” I pant out and yank the blanket back up. “What’s up?”





Chase




The day after every fight is always the worst.

For every good fight I compete in, the next day, whether I won or lost, is almost always fucking painful. Normally I don't do much beyond very light stretching and a short run, and if I am not too sore, a long walk around the lake near my house later in the evening.

This morning isn't what I’m used to. It started with me not being able to fall asleep after I got home from dropping Avery off. I must have thought of a hundred different things to say to keep her from shutting that door and maybe being invited in. I certainly didn't want to leave.

Groaning loudly as I roll out of my king-size bed, I stretch out my arms and wince at my left hand. It still hurts, but not nearly as bad as it did last night. My right thigh though is showing a giant fucking bruise. Ethan’s kicks last night left me a painful reminder. It's 6 am and I can't help but want to go back to sleep and I would, if only I could stop thinking of her.

All I can think of is Avery.

Standing isn't fun either but I know better than to just lie around in bed, vegging out. It may be all I want to do, but I need to get moving. When you get battered around like I did last night, you have to work your body out to help relax the tight muscles.

I wince slightly as I brush my teeth. My jaws is tight and swollen from last night’s punches.

Looking into the mirror, I see a man much closer to thirty than twenty with closely cropped dark brown hair and muddy brown eyes. The thick goatee around my mouth needs to go, I think. And the black eyes also make me look nice and fucked up.

It’s no wonder Avery looked so terrified when I was leaving the ring. I must have been bloody and swollen when I grinned at her.

Walking down the hall then down the stairs, I enter my living room and gaze out the front windows. Dale's car is gone so he must have got it some time after I got home.

Hopefully he asked Doc Miles out. He's been sniffing around her since she came to town and started working at the fights.

I walk into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water from the fridge, chugging it down as I go out the back door. I sit down on the stoop and tie on my shoes. It's time for my run. I may feel like shit but this is going to help.



***



Dammit, I think to myself as I look in the fridge. It’s the third time I’ve done so in the last five minutes. The fridge is full but I don't want anything in it.

I want Avery and donuts I have to admit to myself.

I’m not the biggest health nut of all the fighters I know, but I try to keep a good diet in place. Donuts though... Yeah they are one of those weaknesses I try to ignore.

I get dressed and head out of the house, walking into the garage. I look at my two vehicles. It’s either the Impala or my Jeep. With where I am about to go, I don't want to put my baby in too much danger. I get into the Jeep and pull out, heading for the closest donut place I can get to. They know me all too well there.

I'm surprised when I’m pulling in front of Avery's apartment when I swear I was intending to head straight home. But then again, two coffees, a bag of bagels and a bag of donuts might mean I had no intention of going home.

She has my head pretty wrapped up in those legs of hers. Holy shit, they’re fantastic looking.

I knock quietly a couple of times. Who the hell is Sebastian? I don't hear anyone moving inside her apartment.

A quiet meow echoes on the other side of the door though, and I can't help thinking the cat is calling out for help. I left Avery here in the slums and someone murdered her in the middle of the night. The cat is calling out for me to help his poor dead owner.

I have to shake my head at the absurd visual but that doesn't stop me from knocking a bit harder on the door than I intended. Okay, maybe I knocked hard more than a couple of times. I seriously consider either kicking the door down or walking away as I realize I need to get a grip.

“Seriously! I’m coming, just a second!” I hear her yell through the door.

I start to lower my hand as the door flies open.

There, standing in front of me is one of the sexiest women I have ever seen in my life.

Avery’s jet black hair is all over the place. Her eyes look like raccoon eyes from the makeup she must have slept in. I look down at her magnificent body and see her pale skin in contrast to the black cotton boyshort panties and the lacy black bra. My god, she is sexy. I just wish I was the cause of her waking up in such a state.

“It's you?!” she says before slamming the door back into my face.

I stand there for a moment not exactly sure if she is coming back. I bend down and pick up the coffee and bag of food. Standing up, I wait for a few more seconds and frown. Should I knock again? I hope she’s coming back.

The door swings open.

“Hi,” she pants as if she was just running.

My mind tries to slide into the gutter but her asking “What’s up?” brings me out of it pretty quickly, just in time for me to notice her blanket falling off of her shoulder and revealing a black lace covered orb.

It looks full and heavy like it could fill my hand.

I drag my eyes away, lifting the food and coffee to show her. “Breakfast?”

“Oh my god!” she gasps as she grabs the coffee from my hands. “This is exactly what I need.”

She shuffles away from the door. I wasn't exactly invited in but I step over the threshold anyway. Shutting the door behind me, I watch her shuffle into the kitchen before she slumps down into one of two old but sturdy kitchen chairs.

“Mmm,” she hums. She must like the hot steaming liquid in the cup because her face looks almost happy. “Why are you here?” she asks quietly around the lip of the cup.

Her eyes look up to stare into mine.

“Well, I wanted to make sure you were alright from last night,” I say as I walk into the kitchen and sit down across from her.

In for a penny in for a fucking pound.

I look around the apartment quickly to see if I can spot anything that might belong to this Sebastian person. The only thing I see is a black cat slinking up to my legs and wrapping himself into a figure eight as he tries to rub himself all over my legs.

“Sebby, you don't even know him!” she remarks as her foot snakes out from under her blanket and she tries to pull him over to her.

“It’s alright,” I say reaching down and rubbing the cats head. “Is this your protector?” I ask while once again looking around the apartment, taking the shabby place in.

Nodding, she takes another sip then opens her mouth about to say something else only to be cut off when some jackass starts banging loudly on her front door.

A male voice sounding suspiciously like Ethan’s calls out, “Hey Avery, open up!”

Fucker sounds like he's slurring.





Avery





I take a sip of my coffee while watching Chase’s fingers stroke through Sebastian’s fur. I stare at those fingers a little too long, imagining what it would feel like if he stroked me.

I bet he could make me purr.

Pulling myself out of my thoughts, I’m just about to tell Chase that Sebastian is usually not so friendly with strangers when Ethan bangs on my door.

Shit. Ethan always has the worse timing.

I take another quick sip of my coffee and bite back the moan rising in my throat. It’s my favorite, though I don’t think Chase had any way of knowing it. It usually costs around three bucks a cup so it’s been a month or so since I’ve treated myself. Regretfully, I force myself to set the steaming cup down on the table and stand up.