“No it's not. I really am sorry, please don't be mad at me.”
I smiled but it felt wrong, “I'm not. Let's just finish this and go back to the room like you said.” Honestly, I wasn't trying to be rude, but I had finally decided tonight was the night. I know he hadn't been aware of that yet, but the fact that I was ready to go there with Brandon and it got interrupted set me on edge. Like maybe I still shouldn't have sex with him. I wish I'd kept my mouth shut and not told him that I had been wanting to. How did we go back to stopping ourselves after I just said that? Even though I knew I was, I wasn't trying to make him feel bad, I was just mad at myself.
He was quiet the rest of the drive, instead of his happy energetic self before a match. He held my hand and silently walked with me through the labyrinth of halls in this place. When we got to the doors that would put me in the room he kissed me softly and walked away to meet with Crow. I felt awful, he'd been so excited about this fight, and I'd put him in this sullen mood. Walking into the basement with the loud music and crazed atmosphere felt wrong after the last forty minutes, but I stood next to the box Scarecrow would be on, like I did every other fight so Brandon would know where I was.
Scarecrow gave me a big hug and started the fight, he noticed Brandon wasn't his usual carefree self but soon forgot when a seriously pissed off Brandon went to town on whoever this other guy was. I hadn't been paying close enough attention before they started. It looked like this was an oddly matched fight since the other guy wasn't doing much, and I didn't understand how it could bring in so much money. All of a sudden the guy grabbed Brandon's left hand and twisted it behind him, fully outstretched and planted a hard kick in the middle of Brandon's back. I screamed when his hand was dropped and his arm was left hanging out of socket. He slammed Brandon to the ground, his head bouncing off the extremely thin mat covering the concrete and Scarecrow had to hold me back from running to him. The last thing Brandon needed was me running out there, but it was instinctive to go to him.
Brandon's leg came up around the other guy’s chest and he slammed him down to the ground as well. Using both legs now, Brandon was choking the guy and I knew he would pass out soon. After a few tense moments the other guy tapped out and Brandon released his hold on him, slowly bringing himself to his feet. Without acknowledging the crowd screaming and cheering, he shuffled to me and Crow, grabbed my hand and pulled me to the room he'd waited in before the fight. When we got in there, he fell into a chair and gasped in pain as he unsuccessfully tried to put his shoulder back in place, I sat there covering my mouth in shock as I watched him.
“I need you.” He gritted his teeth and huffed, “To take me.” He huffed again twice.
“Stop talking baby, I know, I'll take you to the hospital.” I grabbed his shirt and sat on the floor against his legs, “Do you want to put this on at least one arm, or leave it completely off?”
“Try to get it on.”
I pulled the shirt over his head and got his right arm through the hole, I pulled it around his left arm so at least it wouldn't swing everywhere and kissed his forehead, “Is your head okay?”
“I'll be fine, I can't believe that even happened, I was just too distracted.”
“Oh my God Brandon, I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have talked to you about that before a fight. I wasn't upset with you, I promise. I was just mad at the whole situation.”
“It's fine sweetheart, this isn't your fault.”
“Brandon,” I gently kissed his cheek, “I love you, I'm sorry.”
“I love you too, come here.” He kissed my lips hard and I helped him out of the chair.
We started walking out when Scarecrow came running in, “Hey man, are you okay? That looked rough, you need to get checked out.”
“She's taking me, I'll let you know how it goes.” Brandon handed me the wad of cash he'd just received and shook Scarecrow's hand.
Five and a half hours later, we were finally getting back to Chase's house. Brandon had a slight concussion and had torn some ligaments when his shoulder dislocated, he was supposed to be wearing a sling, but he'd taken it and the wrap off as soon as we'd gotten back in his Jeep. I'd had a mental freak-out when they showed us the X-Rays of his shoulder and explained he'd eventually need to have surgery on it, but kept my mouth shut. Which probably was just as bad as vocalizing my rant, because Brandon took one look at my wide eyes and clenched jaw and knew I was flipping out.
“Sweetheart, tell me what you're thinking.” Brandon pleaded while I nuzzled his neck.
I sighed and rolled onto my back, “I'm just worried about you.”