In His Corner [Story Preview]

Chapter 4: Ava

I feel the buzz of nerves and energy course violently through my body after this insane night. It's like the high of the fight is now within me. Seeing Rhett land smooth punch after punch, watching his long muscular arms connect perfectly with the opponent, his rippled torso twisting and contorting, every muscle a line cut from stone. I've never really seen anything like it. A baseball game with my dad or college sporting events didn't even remotely compare to this. I definitely can't say I enjoyed it, but undoubtedly it was an experience I wouldn't easily forget.

As the crowd starts to rustle and move towards the exits, a wave of incoherent shouting mixing with too-loud music now blaring through the underground arena speakers, I look back at the ring to see Rhett bloodied and gasping for breath, hitting the mat after winning the fight like some fallen warrior after battle. He still looks strong, even in pain, but his naturally tan face now looks ashen. I notice the stress lines pulling around his eyes and I don't move from my chair despite the surging crowd around me.

"Ava! The fight's over, let's go." Shelly pushes gently at the small of my back forcing me toward the aisle.

"Uh...is he okay? Should someone call a doctor or something?"

"Who Rhett? Sweetheart, relax. That man is flying high, trust me. He just made a lot of important people a lot richer tonight. Including himself. Just a little blackout from the broken rib pain. The dude's been beat up way worse than this and still won. Look, the medic is already in the ring, he'll be better in no time. No need to get your panties in a knot."

Double ew. I do not like the idea of burly, boyish Eric thinking about my panties. Even in a metaphoric capacity. I turn back to the ring and Rhett is now sitting upright, his forearms resting on his bent knees, his head hung low between his long outstretched legs. The medic tries unsuccessfully to push away a slew of fans, crowding in on Rhett and shaking his coach's hand. Another two medics set the massive, limp body of Falcon on a stretcher. If I wasn't able to see the subtle rising and falling of his barrel-chest, I'd be pretty certain he was dead.

"Listen, Ava, we're going to a bar. Don't protest okay? Everyone goes. We won't stay long I promise. Like, an hour max. Plus, you could use a drink, your face is paler than a ghost!"

To Shelly's surprise, I don't protest. I'm too in shock, my thoughts still replaying what I'd just witnessed in the ring. I let Shelly and Eric guide me towards the exit, trying to avoid the roaming eyes and hands of random men as we meander and shove our way through the slowly thinning crowd out into the brisk evening.

The bar is fairly packed when we arrive but less crowded than the arena. I'm grateful for the fresh night air and the welcome cool weather against my overheated skin. I feel wired, my nerves on edge from the fight. I want to go for a run or a swim or something. Anything to help dull this strange sensation of adrenaline attacking my body. Instead, Shelly pushes a pink fruity cocktail into my hand and I decide I'll have to go with alcohol as my release for the time being. I drink it quickly, too quickly, and feel the light familiar buzz of tipsiness. Chalk it up to being a twenty-two-year-old lightweight. I stand near Shelly as she ogles over Eric and his arrogant comments about being the next Rhett Jaggar. I don't think anyone could be the next Rhett, but at least Eric has some ambition I guess. I block out the conversation as I scan the rest of the bar, my eyes widening at the group of beautiful, scantily-clad women surveying the crowd like they're on a lethal hunting mission, waiting to strike.

"Who are they?" I nudge Shelly's side and we turn our heads in the girls' direction.

"Oh. Those are the ring bunnies." Shelly's voice comes out cold and annoyed. She's clearly seen them before.

"Gotta give them credit, I'd freeze to death in anything less than jeans and a jacket." I laugh lightly into her side and watch a scowl cross over her face but she doesn't protest. These ring bunnies are practically wearing lingerie during early fall in Boston. And they don't even look the least bit uncomfortable doing it. I find myself a little in awe of them.

"Well, you're always cold, even in the summer." Shelly takes a sip from her second drink and looks back at me. "A ring bunny is basically a groupie. They stick around after the fights and try to saddle up to one of the fighters. Of course with Rhett being the winning fighter tonight, they are out in full swing." She wraps her arm tighter around Eric, and I try not to laugh out loud since none of the ring bunnies are even looking in his direction, nor is he looking at them. Shelly definitely has some serious trust issues from past relationships. She just falls too hard too fast, usually for the wrong guys. Hopefully that won't be the same story with Eric. I order another drink and watch as the beautiful women primp themselves in small pocket mirrors and saunter over to high-top tables scattered throughout the bar. But by the time I finish my drink, I've grown wary of the whole scene, ready to be safely tucked into bed with my comfortable flannel pajamas and a Netflix show.

Even the confident ring bunnies start to look antsy since Rhett appears to be a no show. Part of me was hoping he would come to the bar, just so I could see him outside of the ring or the gym, up close. He seems non-human in my mind right now, replaying the rounds of fighting he just endured. But the other half of me is relieved he didn't show. Blood and violence makes me queasy enough, I'm not sure I can stomach seeing his various bruises and cuts up close and personal. Especially since watching him take each hit in the last round made my stomach roil, wondering why the heck anyone would voluntarily put themselves in that position. A flinch snaps across my shoulders just thinking about it.

"Okay bestie, time to go home." Shelly sidles up next to me and playfully knocks her slender hip into mine. Thanks goodness. I'm so tired and worn out from the chaos and strangeness of this night. All I want is a hot shower and my bed. I let Shelly wrap her arm around me as we make our way toward Eric's car.

But later that night as I'm snuggled comfortably into my new twin bed at Shelly's, I see Rhett's strong, tattooed arms behind my eyelids, his dark scorching eyes desperately seeking out mine among the crowd as if he's looking for answers that only I can answer.

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