Hold Her Close

She smiles, but then her face turns pensive, even a little sad. “So it seems like you had a rough childhood.”

“A little,” I say smiling. “It could have been worse. That’s one thing I learned. That it can always be worse. But yeah, it was rough. My parents died in a car accident when I was pretty young, and they didn’t have any other family, so I went into the foster care system.”

Sighing, I sip my wine. “I wish that I had the kind of perfect story that some kids have about the best foster family ever, but I don’t. They were in it for the money. But there was a roof over my head and food on the table.”

Sadie smiles sadly. “I saw juvie charges.”

I laugh. “Yeah, I didn’t exactly run with the right crowd back then. I’m glad that I got out of that. Not everyone gets that lucky and walks away from their bad choices and sets a new course.”

“What allowed you to do that?”

She seems genuinely curious and bright eyed. I know that if the sports reporter had asked me any of this shit that I probably would have torn his head off. These aren’t happy memories that she’s bringing up. But with her, I don’t mind talking about it. “Guy named Frank. Retired cop. He got me when I was about to go to juvie again. And…I don’t know. The judge saw something different that time. Instead of sending me to jail, he sent me to Frank for martial arts training and anger management. He…taught me how to use my anger. Control it.”

“That would have played really well in the interview,” she says.

“I don’t think Frank would have appreciated the attention.”

“Okay, this may not be a very hard-hitting question,” she says, “but I have to know about the dogs.”

“Dogs?”

“On your Instagram,” she says. “You have a truly impressive number of dogs.”

A chill runs down my spine. “You found my Instagram?”

“Mhmm,” she swallows part of what’s left of her wine, and I refill her glass. “I was expecting more shirtless photos, if I’m really being honest.”

“I’ll have to up my game,” I say. “But they’re all my dogs.”

Sadie’s eyes go wide. “All of them?”

“Every single one. They were rescued from a dog fighting ring. And it…it didn’t feel right to choose just one. I know what it’s like to be forced to fight, and no one should be forced to, even if it’s life or death. Especially a dog that has no choice.”

She looks at me like she’s studying me. “Is that why you still fight? After the childhood you had, it doesn’t seem like something that you would want to do as a career. Didn’t you want to get away from it?”

“I wanted to get away from the violence in my life, but fighting in the ring is different. Now I get to choose how and where and when I fight. The rules are fair and defined. It’s a contest, not some desperate scrape just to survive.”

Sadie sighs, putting aside her pasta and scooting a little closer to me. “This is me me, not reporter me. I just don’t understand why someone would want to fight like that. To subject your body to all that abuse. I guess it’s just not in me.”

I pull her closer so that she’s leaning against me. I’ve already been inside her tonight, yet I’m still craving her touch. “It’s not an easy thing to explain,” I say. “I had so much anger, still have, and Frank helped me channel that into something productive. He taught me discipline and strength. It gives me something to reach for. And I’m good at it. It’s actually the only thing that I’ve ever been good at.”

“It’s definitely not the only thing that you’re good at,” Sadie says, smiling and leaning closer, leaving no doubt as to her meaning.

“Good to know.”

“Mmm.”

She seems more relaxed now. Happy, and that makes me more relaxed. I’m glad that this is so easy with her. But I need to know. “Did you see anything else on my Instagram?”

Sadie presses her lips together. “Yeah, I saw her.”

“Her,” he says. It’s not a question. And the word is loaded. “And no questions from your enquiring mind?”

“Well, a picture is worth a thousand words. And the absence of pictures is worth another few thousand.” She gives me a weak, almost pitying smile.

I press my lips to her temple. “Well I didn’t want you to have any doubts. We’re not together anymore. It’s been seven months. She was my fiancée.”

A tiny gasp. “I’m sorry.”

I chuckle. “I’m not. She left me for the drummer of Reign and Rage. He was a fan of mine, met her at one of my fights. Two months later…she left me a note with the ring.”

“Holy shit,” Sadie says. “I’m so sorry, Jon.”