Funny, I think to myself, that everyone thought I was inviting the rich old men for their poker chip purchases. In reality, I was inviting the rich old men because I knew they’d bring their rich old wives.
When a hand is raised to up the bid to six-fifty, I smile. “Seven hundred thousand dollars? Can I get seven hundred thousand dollars for a date with the Roller who will probably be the most chivalrous? Trust me, ladies. I’ve eaten dinner with this man. He’s a sweetheart.”
“Women don’t want chivalry,” Bry hollers from the crowd. “Auction me off, Princess. Let’s see what happens then.”
“No!” Giggling, I press a hand to my stomach and shake my head. “You’re not for sale.”
“We don’t want the youngins anyway,” a woman hollers. “We want men who know what they’re doing.”
“Hold up now.” Tina takes Kit’s hand and moves through the room at a fast trot.
They wear gowns too, beautiful, elegant, floor-length gowns that make them look like royalty.
They stomp up the steps and snatch my microphone out of my hand.
“Peaches?” Aiden growls. “What the fuck?”
“Here, hold my wine.”
“Oh shit!” Evie laughs. “She’s doing it.”
“Ladies and gentlemen… well… gentlemen.” Tina strides across the stage and pops her butt as she goes. “A dinner date with a lady, perhaps?”
That steals the attention of the remaining men who were more interested in the chips than the Rollers.
“Dinner, wit, beauty, and a wicked sense of humor. Shall we start the bids at a million neat, and raise only by hundred-thousand-dollar increments?”
“Yep.” The husband of the woman who wants Aiden raises his hand. “One-point-five, and not a single cent more.”
“One-six!” another shouts.
Tina turns to me and winks.
“I cannot believe your cajones,” Evie pulls me into a laughing hug. “You’re insane!”
“I think we just raised enough to fill the purses, reward the most spirited fighter, and donate a chunk to your women’s shelter.”
She stops, and studies my eyes. She looks almost close to tears. Her lips shake, but no longer from mirth. “You did it, Maddi. Thank you.”
“Thanks for trusting me.” I pull her in for a gentler hug.
I feel like I’ve found a sister. In her, in Lucy and Brooke, and in all of the other cousins I could have sworn were bitches before I got to know them.
Before truly knowing them, I couldn’t understand why Bry got so abrasive whenever talk of his family came up. Why would he go to such lengths to vindicate Brooke? For the longest time, I thought he was the problem. I thought he was obsessive and simply enjoyed conflict.
But now I get it. Now I understand why he would protect a family filled with so much love. Because I’m part of that family now, too, and I vow to always protect it. To always appreciate it.
I vow to never take for granted the gift Bryan gave me.
I step back from Evie while bids are being shouted around us like rapid fire in an open gun range. Instead, I turn to Bry and show him my sign. Pinky finger up, pointer finger, thumb.
I smile when his eyes search mine. As they flicker between my hand and my gaze. In reply, he winks and gifts me back the same sign.
I love him, and he loves me. And in this horrible world where money makes things go ‘round, for us, that’s enough.
Epilogue
Bryan
“Welcome to the fourth annual Stacked Deck tournament finals night!” Evie hollers like she’s running a rock concert and not a fight night. “We welcome back many fighters who’ve been with us since day one. We welcome back some who skipped a couple years so they could pursue other passions.”
Mac and Bean. That’s who she’s talking about. Because while Mac spent all of his life chasing his dreams, Bean put hers off. When he realized what she was doing for him, Mac forfeited the last two tournaments to let her have her time to shine on the dance stage.
My cousin got what she needed. Finally, she got to dance for the important people, she got the recognition she was so hungry for. And now it’s Mac’s turn. It’s finally Mac’s turn to fight and win.
I stand amongst the crowd of five hundred fighters – for the first time ever, we’ve had to cap the number of fighters. There just isn’t enough time to run through thousands, so during preliminary fights, many had to be knocked out – of the divisions, not consciousness – and now we stand on the final night after three long days of getting ourselves beaten to shit.
My family knows what these nights are like, we’ve lived it our whole lives. But poor Maddi seems to be suffering a mild case of shock, as another fight comes to a thudding end in the octagon.
Ben slams a fighter – Jackson Price – to the canvas with a powerful one-two hook that he finishes with a heavy jab to the chin, and a swept leg that pushes him off balance. The entire venue seems to shake on its foundations as the guys drop to the canvas floor and scramble for the position on top.
Ben smiles while he moves, his red mouthguard shimmering under the lights strung from the club ceiling as he slips and slides over sweat to stop on Jackson’s hips.
He sits on Price the way Maddi sits on me.
But there’s no love, no affection, as Ben’s fists rain down on Jackson’s face, and sends blood shooting to the floor.
“How is this not illegal?” Maddi hisses. “Bryan!”
“It’s sport, Turdsky. And Price had a hand in trashing Ben’s wedding. This is war.”
“He– But– It’s so violent!”
I laugh and hold her close as my body twitches in response to Ben’s dominance.
When I want Ben to hit, I ball my fist. When I want Ben to dive forward, I turn my chest, and Maddi ends up being crushed under my arm.
“This is not how you fight at the tracks, Bry! This is way different!”
“I don’t hit hard at the tracks, Princess. Yes! Snap that fuckin’ arm, Sasquatch!”
Evie stands on the outside of the octagon and screams her own instructions. She’s supposed to be impartial, a professional, but that’s her man, and she hates Jackson as much as the rest of us do.
“He’s hitting so hard!” Maddi protests.
“And now he knows I’ve been pulling my strikes at the track.”
“You’re mean!”
I only laugh and pull her closer against my side. She’s not mad at me. She’s just… in shock. “This is what we live for, Maddi. This is our sport.”
“Hey… Bry?”
Her tone changes, from exasperation to gut-churning anxiety, bringing my eyes away from Ben slamming his fist against Jackson’s jaw, and instead to her uncertain eyes. “What’s wrong? Hey.” I cup Maddi’s cheeks. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“I love you.” Her words are rough, scratchy and scared. She lifts her hand, and shows me the sign. “We do this, and we mean it, but maybe you want the words too.”
“Such pretty words.” I pull her up and press a kiss to her plump lips. “I love you too.”