Raw Deal(34)

Outrage and helplessness churned through his gut. Goddamn it, he should  be there, she shouldn't have to be facing this by herself when it was  all because of him. Just as he was opening his mouth to speak, she said,  "I don't think I can talk right now. I'm sorry."

"Savannah, I can't take knowing you're hurting. I'll be there by fucking  sunrise if you don't tell me something right now, I swear to Christ."

"I watched the fight," she said after a pause.

All of the organs that had tentatively resumed their functioning shut down again. "Why would you do that?"

"Rowan made me."

Damn that girl. Mike understood the woman was hurting, and he was the  cause of every bit of it, but that didn't give her the right to  continuously spread her pain around to everyone else who was trying to  move on. Did it? "And what did you see?" he asked at last, dreading her  answer with every fiber of his being.

"I still believe you," she said softly. "It didn't change my mind about  that. Rowan is convinced you hit him after the ref called it and that  might have been what . . . hurt him. I don't think that. I think the  damage was already done, you were just caught up. He fell, you saw your  chance and took it."

She was absolutely right about that. When he was in the cage, stalking  his victory like a predator, primal instincts were at the forefront and  they eclipsed any regard for rules or authority. He barely even  remembered it; he'd been so in the zone, feeling no pain, not prepared  to show any mercy.

"But seeing it again . . . ," she went on haltingly, " . . . how can I do this?"

They were back to square one, he realized. Rowan had shoved that fight  in Savannah's face again and it was as if it had happened today. Maybe  for Rowan, it would always feel that way.

He didn't know what to say. So his heart took over. "I really could fall for you, Savannah. I want to."

She only sniffled in response, so he rushed on. "I know it's soon, and  this is damn sure the wrong time to tell you, but you caught me from the  moment I first saw you. I thought about you from that day on, until I  saw you again and you were even sweeter and more beautiful than I  remembered. So yeah." He chuckled ruefully. "I've had at least a little  time to figure this out."

"I feel the same way," she admitted, but the comment didn't bring him  the joy it should have. She said it as if it were her doom.

"Savannah . . . I can't walk away. It's not in my nature. I thought  maybe I could. I thought maybe if it meant the best for you, I could  make myself do it for your sake. It's what I should do, but I don't know  how. I'll fight for you, baby, fight until they put me in the ground."

"Rowan hates me. And that's only a fraction of what I'll be dealing with when she tells my parents. And I know she will."

"No one could hate you, no one who deserves you."

"I'm okay," she said at last, infusing her voice with a little bit of  the steel he loved about her. "It was just hard. But if that's what she  needed for us to get past this, fine. And I guess I needed it too, in  some weird way."

Mike wiped a hand down his face, pausing while a couple of giggling  girls clad in skintight dresses scuttled by him in the hallway, sliding  him inviting looks he almost missed because he absolutely did not give a  shit. He couldn't say he agreed with Savannah's words; it seemed  exceptionally cruel to him to force her back to that night. But if she  was right and it truly was something she needed to see, he wished he  could have been with her to hold her afterward, wipe her tears. But he  was done telling her how sorry he was. There simply weren't enough words  to convey it. "I'll do whatever you need me to do. If you want me  there, I'm there."                       
       
           



       

"Of course I want you here. Or I want to be there. But . . . we each have our lives, don't we?"

"You're a part of mine now. A big fucking part. "

"I wish I could have met you some other way. I wish I could bring you  home and let everyone get to know you and realize how amazing you are."

No one had ever said anything like that to him before. None of his past  women had ever given much of a shit whether they took him home to meet  the parents or not; most of them had probably preferred not to. "I've  thought the same thing every day since I met you, about wishing we'd met  under different circumstances."

"Is it hopeless?" she asked, voice cracking and shredding his fucking guts.

"No, baby. It's not. As long as I'm in and you're in, that's all the hope I need. And I'm all in."

"Okay. We'll just . . . figure something out."

"Try to get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning." He hoped.

She said her goodbyes and was gone, though he would have happily stayed  on the phone with her all night. A long-distance relationship was  something he'd never bothered to participate in, or even contemplate,  though it would probably be ideal for him. He was a guy who liked his  space and knew from experience that he didn't need or even want someone  in his home, in his bed, every night. He had always promptly shut down  any cohabitation discussions broached by the women in his life; he  hadn't wanted to subject someone else to him 24/7. It seemed a shitty  thing to inflict on another person. He was extremely single-minded in  his training, and especially when fight time rolled around. He didn't  have the time or mental focus for anything or anyone else, often moving  his camp to a remote location when he needed to get serious. How would  someone like Savannah react to that? Hell, how would he react to it, if  she became a permanent fixture?

Of course, Savannah still expected him to retire, and depending on the  atmosphere that welcomed him when Brad tried to get him back out there,  that might still come to pass. Only time would tell.

Damien and Zane fell silent when he reclaimed his seat at the table,  which led him to speculate that they'd been talking about him. Great.

"Everything cool?" Zane asked.

No sense in lying; they would smell it on him. "Not really," he  grumbled, and Damien waved for someone to bring him a fresh beer.

"Savannah?"

"She's hurting, and I can't do a fucking thing about it. Rowan is giving her a lot of shit."

Zane perked up. "My Rowan? No way could she give anyone shit; she's too sweet."

"Not that sweet."

Damien looked back and forth between them as if they were speaking  Swahili. "Wait, are we talking about the Dugas guy's people? Where the  hell is this coming from?"

"Mike brought them over for the show the other night," Zane explained. "Rowan's a big fan."

"Is she an even bigger fan now?"

"Dude, she's a grieving widow. Give me at least some credit."

Damien didn't look convinced. Mike stared at Zane, one hand pensively at  his mouth. There was an idea formulating in his mind, but he wasn't  going to speak it. Just wasn't. It seemed manipulative and underhanded  and-

"I could talk to her," Zane said.

-exactly something his little brother would act on.

"No," Mike said, waving the idea away completely. "She's got a lot of  respect for you obviously, and you have a lot of influence on her.  Sending you to do my dirty work wouldn't be right."

Zane looked him square in the eye. There were a lot of harrowing truths  behind the gaze he often masked with mischief and a sardonic grin, but  every now and then, those truths peeked out. It was a terrible thing to  see. "How many times have you gotten dirty for me? Stood up for me when  no one else would bother?"

"It seems sleazy to me, man."

"What's sleazy about vouching for you? Her problem is she doesn't know you."

"She doesn't want to know me, Z. That's her decision to make. We can't  force her to just accept the guy who killed her husband into the  family."

"Into the family?" Damien recoiled as if he'd been burned. "Jesus. I  thought you were only trying to get into Savannah's pants, not the  family portrait."

"I suspect that particular mission was already accomplished," Zane said wryly.

"It's also not up for discussion," Mike ground out, sending warning glances to both of them.

"I'm not even kidding, though," Zane said. "We hit it off pretty well. Give me Rowan's number. I'm on it."                       
       
           



       

"I don't have it," Mike said.

"You can get it."

"I specifically told Savannah she didn't have anything to worry about  with you. Siccing you on her sister-in-law would be going back on that  word."

"I'll be good, dude. I wouldn't do anything but persuade her to give you a break."