With each of us having the other by the throat, it became a test of endurance. Fernando’s position was better than mine, but he was used to fighting for sport. I was accustomed to fighting to live. I squeezed until my shoulders burned. I had run out of oxygen long ago and black spots invaded my vision. But I held on. I held on until I felt Fernando sag against me, only seconds before I blacked out.
I was jolted into consciousness by a forceful slap and cold water being splashed on my face. Carlos’ angry glare was all I needed to realize what had happened. I looked beyond him to watch as another man treated Fernando to the same. He sat up with a cough and rubbed at his neck.
“I knew you were a troublemaker when you walked in,” Carlos said in Spanish. “Get dressed and get the fuck out.” He stood and tossed my shirt onto my chest. I pulled it on and stood as quickly as I was able.
“Good fight,” I managed through a strained throat. “We’ll do it again.” Fernando managed to smile and nod as I turned to leave the ring.
I grabbed my socks and shoes and left without putting them on. The cold was bracing as I walked toward my car, but I didn’t mind. It was the only thing keeping me upright. I knew I’d be bruised to hell in the morning. At last, something felt normal.
I managed to get back to the hotel before the first stirrings of bruised muscle, scraped flesh, and weary bones had me longing for the comfort of a hot bath. Slowly, I eased my body into the water. It stung viciously. I put ice on my face. No one could accuse me of being pretty at that moment.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I was sound asleep when I heard the pounding on the door. I moaned as I attempted to move all at once. The light coming in through the curtains told me it wasn’t yet evening. Livvie hadn’t waited long before coming to find me.
I decided further movement was ill advised. My throat was too sore to yell. A strange pinch occurred in my chest. I wanted to see Livvie, but I didn’t want to fight with her.
Vivisected. It’s the only word I can think of to describe how I’m feeling—vivisected. As though someone has cut me open with a scalpel, the pain not sinking in until the flesh begins to separate and my blood bubbles out. I can hear the crack as my ribs are flayed open. Slowly, my organs, wet and sticky, are pulled out of me one at a time. Until I am hollow. Hollow and yet, in excruciating pain—still alive. Still. Alive.
As I lay unable or unwilling to move with Livvie pounding on my door, it occurred to me: It’s always going to hurt. Yes, vivisected had been a very apt word to use. Loving Livvie was like allowing myself to be peeled open and hollowed out. She made me weak. She made me vulnerable. She made me ache and long and hope for all the things that could never be mine.
The door opened.
“Caleb?” Livvie called out. It was the first time she’d ever used the key I’d given her and I groaned at my own stupidity. That was another thing Livvie made me—stupid.
“I’m in here,” I said. Getting choked until unconscious is hard on the vocal chords. I hated the way my heart knocked in my chest. I really wanted to see her. I wanted to tell her I was sorry. Shamefully, I wanted her to see me battered and use it to keep her from screaming at me.
She gasped when she saw me but didn’t reach out to touch me.
“What did you do now? I mean, aside from invade my privacy and break my trust? It’s been a busy day for you.”
I let her words hang in the air between us. What could I say? Finally, she stepped closer and brushed her fingers across my cheek. I hissed.
“Serves you right,” she snapped. Beneath the anger I heard concern. “What happened?”
“I picked a fight,” I whispered. “You should see the other guy.” I laughed and it hurt.
“Is—is the other guy alive?” she asked without inflection.
“Yes,” I said just as coldly. “You would ask me, wouldn’t you? I’m always killing people for petty reasons.” I turned away from her. “If you came for a fight, don’t bother. I surrender.” I felt an intense pressure in my chest. “Just go.”
“Do you really want me to go?” she asked. There was no emotion in her voice and it scared the fuck out me. Please, don’t go. Don’t leave me.
“If you’re done with me,” I said instead.
“Coward,” she spat. “You’ll take a beating. You’ll face men with guns. You’ll kill. But God forbid you have to swallow your goddamn pride and apologize for being a nosy little shit.”
I sat up fast.
“You think I don’t swallow my pride? Fuck you! All I’ve done for months is swallow my pride. I’ve apologized ad nauseum. I fuck you when you want to be fucked. I play nice for your friends. I wait for you to come home because I have nothing more to do. You’ve become my whole life!