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Raw Deal(46)

By:Cherrie Lynn


Oh, give me a fucking break. Mike snatched up his microphone, though he  saw Brad and Aaron shaking their heads frantically from side stage. He  didn't care. "Tommy Dugas wouldn't ask for shit from you, man."

"Yeah, well, he can't, cuz you killed him. You killed him. You killed  him." He kept chanting the hateful words into his microphone as an  uproar went up from the press and Mike stood up from his chair, every  one of his muscles tensed for attack. Meyers lumbered out of his own  seat. Reid took up his peacemaker stance and security began inching in  from the sidelines. Mike barely saw any of it, hyper-focused as he was  on the vile words spilling from Meyers's mouth. God, if Savannah hears  this . . .                       
       
           



       

"Everyone knows it was an accident, Frank. You know it too."

"Tell it to his family that's left behind."

"I did, asshole."

"You know I hear his wife is pregnant? I bet they can't wait to see you  bleeding on the mat and I'm going to see to it that it happens. You'll  see. You'll see!"

"You didn't fucking know him, so who the fuck are you to get vengeance for anyone?"

"Tommy Dugas was a brother fighter, a fellow warrior who gave his life for this sport, gone too soon and-"

"You piece of shit. You're not worthy to mention his name."

"You'd like his name to never be mentioned, wouldn't you? So you can forget what you did and what you inflicted on his family."

Another word and he was going to climb over Reid if he had to. "Let's  get back on track," the president was saying, and security came in to  add some authority to the situation. Mike put his hands up, reclaiming  his seat and wrenching the cap off the water bottle sitting on his table  before turning it upside down and guzzling. It needed to be alcohol.  Brad and Aaron were both repeatedly slashing their hands across their  throats. Cut it the hell out, he interpreted. So much for not exposing  his weakness.

All this and only two questions in. It was going to be a long day.



Rowan answered Savannah's knock with surprise written across her face.  At the sight of her little sister-in-law, so adorable with a bandana  headband wrapped around her hair and already wearing a maternity shirt  even though she was barely showing, Savannah's eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, God, Savvy!" Rowan cried and, with all hostilities apparently  forgotten, rushed forward to wrap Savannah in her arms. "Are you okay?  What's the matter?"

"Can I come in?" Savannah sniffled, clutching her tight, her warm and familiar scent a comfort she'd nearly forgotten.

"Of course you can. Get in here. I'm making cookies; I had a sudden craving. Don't make me eat them all by myself."

Chuckling, Savannah allowed herself to be herded in through the front  door and fussed over while Rowan got her tea and tissues and settled her  at the kitchen table where they'd first made plans to meet Zane and  Mike in Houston. The memory squeezed out a few more drops of moisture  and she wiped at them in frustration.

Rowan shoved a batch of cookies in the oven, set the digital timer, then sat down across from her. "Tell me all."

"It isn't going to work with Mike. I know you don't want to hear about  him, and I don't blame you, but I see it now, so you don't have to worry  anymore. He's already set another fight. It'll barely be three months  since Tommy died, and he's already fighting again."

To her surprise, Rowan didn't erupt in peals of joy. With solemn  deliberation, she folded her hands on the table and stared at them for  several seconds. "I know. I saw it on the news. I wondered how you were  taking it."

"Not well at all."

"It was just a chance thing that came up though, right? I mean . . . it wasn't his plan all along."

"Yeah, he got an unexpected title shot. He wanted to take it. I tried so  hard to talk him out of it. We both . . . said a lot of bad stuff, I  guess."

She remembered his face, almost unrecognizable in his determination and .  . . bloodlust, with ice glittering in his eyes that she hadn't seen  since his match with Tommy. It had brought back nightmares. It had  frozen her blood in her veins. This is him, she'd thought. He was in the  mind-set. There was an opponent already in his cage, trying to take  what was his, and at the end of the argument he'd settled into a  dangerous quiet, like that of a snake lying in wait for some hapless  prey to wander by.

He'd scared her. Not that she thought he would hurt her in a million  years, but he would easily hurt someone else, or else get hurt trying.

"Savannah . . . and I can't believe I'm saying this, but I have to. I've  never in my life had anyone look at me the way he looked at you in the  cemetery the other day. Not even Tommy. He drove all night to get there  for you. It made me think. It made me think a lot. Hell, it almost made  me jealous." Rowan chuckled sadly. "Your mom was impressed too."

"And I've never felt the way he made me feel," Savannah admitted, fiddling with the tissue in her hand.

"You deserve that. I've always wanted that for you."

"But I don't know if I can live the life you did."

"I would never want to go back to it," Rowan agreed, staring off into  some middle distance, at memories only she could see. "I don't know,  some of it wasn't so bad. I suppose the toughest part was living with  the fighter. Sometimes-and I don't think I've ever admitted this out  loud-it was almost a relief when he was away, so I could relax and take  some time for me for a change. God, is that awful?"                       
       
           



       

"No," Savannah said quickly. "I can understand that. I used to live with him too."

"Yeah," Rowan laughed. "I suppose it's somewhat possible I was being a  little too hard on Mike. Hell, Savvy, if I'm willing to admit that I was  wrong, it should be way easier for you."

Maybe not if Rowan knew what he'd said about Tommy. Even if there was at  least a tiny bit of truth to it. "Zane wants to see you again,"  Savannah blurted out, not sure where that had come from or why this  seemed like an opportune moment to tell her.

Rowan's eyes became the size of saucers. "Are you freaking kidding me?"

"That's what Mike said. He wants your number. Should I get it to him?"

"There you go!" Rowan said excitedly, reaching over to smack Savannah's  arm. "There's your chance to talk to Mike again. Please tell him yes, he  can have my number, but only if he'll behave himself."

Savannah managed a chuckle through the ache in her heart. "You expect a rock star to behave himself?"

"He was a perfect gentleman when we talked before. I think he can. We old pregnant ladies don't need any wild times."

"Please, you're not old. And you seem to be doing better," Savannah  observed. Rowan's hair was fixed in soft waves, her makeup perfect.  Maybe today was only one good day in a sea of bad ones, but she looked  great. Pregnancy agreed with her, lent a glow to her skin, a sparkle to  her eyes. "I know I made things hard on you again. I'm so sorry for  that, Ro. So sorry."

"Oh, honey," Rowan said, "it was mainly not seeing you that was so hard on me. I'm glad you're here. Don't ever leave."

They shared a laugh, and before too much longer, the cookies were done.  It was hard to be sad when one had access to warm white chocolate  macadamia nut cookies. Together, they devoured the entire batch and  consumed mass quantities of Rowan's excellent sweet tea, any sorrows  temporarily suspended due to the subsequent sugar rush. Rowan showed her  the progress on the nursery, where she'd hung a huge framed wedding  portrait over the spot where she wanted to put the crib. Tommy had  looked so handsome in his tux, and Rowan ravishing in her wedding dress  with her blond ringlets and innocent smile.

Eventually they ended up on the couch in the living room, surrounded by  Tommy's eagles, watching TV and catching up. "So you haven't talked to  him at all since he left?" Rowan asked, her legs tucked underneath her  while she flipped through channels.

"No. It's been a week. He's probably in Mexico City by now. I think he  wanted to train in the altitude so he would be used to it."

"Ah. Well . . . you have your passport, don't you?"

"I do, but I am not going to Mexico City to watch him fight. No frigging way." The mere thought caused her stomach to plummet.

"Yeah, I understand. That would be a little much. So text him right now  and give him my number to pass to Zane. See what he says."

Savannah shook her head. "I will. But not right now."

With a funny growl of frustration, Rowan stopped channel surfing long enough to toss a throw pillow at her. "Come on."