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“They don’t know you.”
“Be honest. Did you come all the way back to Sunridge, Illinois because you were dying to write how I train service dogs in my free time?”
“Now who’s doing the low blows?” She looked like she was on the verge of tears, and at that moment I wished my sorry ass had just stayed down in the ring rather than make her cry. “Of course your fighting spirit and charisma drew me in, but your love for dogs and service to others makes you a more interesting and caring person. At least, that’s what I thought before this.”
"It’s not just about the money for me. It's about feeling alive." My shoulder sagged as my body finally started to take in the fact I'd just been in a fight. "Ava, I'm sorry. I wanted you to like me for me. I was hoping to open up to you about this and how I felt about you, but then we put the brakes on our relationship.”
People were coming out of the basement arena. I motioned for Ava to join me outside. We slipped past Big Mickles, the ticket attendant/security near the front door. He gave a strange look at me and Ava but kept his mouth shut.
Once out of Carnage, Ava stood on the uneven sidewalk, shying away from the flickering neon light. "Are you saying you're a professional fighter who loses control in a ring?”
“I don’t lose control. I fight to maintain it.”
“Is what you're doing legal?"
"Yes, at least the matches I agree to. I fight here under the radar.” I struggled to find words to better explain myself. “Things get hardcore at Carnage. Sometimes I like that. I didn't want you to know at first."
She shook her head with a sad laugh. "Was I just a PR job to make sure you looked squeaky clean?”
“No.” I stepped closer, reaching out to take her hand. She put distance between us. “You mean a lot to me. I never thought I would –” I stopped short of saying fall in love. The unspoken statement knocked me off balance as I recognized the emotion for the first time. Ava would not hear me out if I told her. Would she? I looked deep into her copper brown eyes, searching for a way to make her understand. As I did, a question got in my head. “What are you doing here tonight? I didn’t think you knew about the underground leagues.”
“Why, because you didn’t tell me?” Ava crossed her arms, glaring up at me. "It’s my job to figure things out. I just never took you for a back-alley fighter."
Her words. She was too good with them. Or maybe I was just weak enough right now that they hit their mark. I felt my jaw tighten. “You didn’t answer my question. You’re here, so obviously, you want more than the nice, squeaky-clean stuff, too.”
She straightened her already perfect posture. “What I want is to cover all my bases.”
“Spoken like a can-do reporter. There's a lot you don't know about me."
“Clearly.” Ava didn’t step into the light, but she refused to back down. "Make me understand, because right now I'm questioning everything I thought I knew about you."
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling a knot coming up on the side of my head. "You wouldn't get it," I muttered.
"Try me."
Adrenaline from the fight now shifted to help me tell her what was going on inside. "Sometimes I feel like I'm just another assignment to you.”
Anger and something more tender both flashed in her eyes. “If I only cared about my work, I wouldn’t still be standing here.”
I went on. “You and I connected beyond what we do for a living. Nothing compares to it. I don't think anything ever will.” I gestured at Carnage. “But fighting has always been one of the few things that kept me feeling alive."
In an action I didn’t see coming, Ava reached out and gently touched my arm. "Ryder, underground fighting isn't the answer. It's too dangerous."
I shook my head, a spark of defiance coursing through me. "Until my signature’s on a contract, I’m free to do what I please.”
She dropped her hand. "Even if it permanently injures you?"
I had no answer, even though I knew she was right. I kept my face blank. "We all take risks. I took one with you, and it got to me more than this ever will.”
AVA
THE GROUND SHIFTED beneath my feet. This was not the Ryder I thought I knew - the charming, passionate man who had intrigued me from the moment we met. The man standing before me now was more complex, hurt in ways beyond his surface injuries, and had a sharp edge or two.
He wasn’t the only one standing on this sidewalk who had baggage. I had some rough parts to me, too, but not rough enough to understand why he was doing this to himself.
And certainly not tough enough to keep arguing with a man whose mind was already made up.
"Is this it?" I was unable to keep the hurt from my voice. "You'll risk throwing everything you worked so hard for away for these fights?"
