High Stakes, Hard Sell Ch. 06

Except his eyes. In his bright green eyes she could see real pain. He was hurting bad. Hurting in a way she'd never seen.

"Everything went okay with Nessa?" he asked, nodding in the direction of her room.

His voice wasn't right, either. Unsteady, strained. He was trying too hard to sound casual and it was having the opposite effect.

"Flawless. We had a great time. She's a really good kid. She obviously didn't learn that from you." She floated the lame joke, hoping to lighten him up a bit.

His lips curled into a mockery of a smile but his eyes didn't sell it. He walked past her, limping slightly on his left leg, and sat down heavily on the couch.

She decided a little flirting might snap him out if it, so she straddled him on the couch, her knees on either side of his hips, her breasts - unconstrained under the t-shirt - tantalizingly close to eye level.

"So, when's the rematch?" she asked.

Wrong question. His fake smile faded. He wouldn't meet her eyes. After a few uncomfortable moments, he sighed the most depressing sigh she'd ever heard.

"No rematch. It's over. I'm quitting the circuit."

It took some time for the words to register. Quitting? Ever since she'd known him he'd been dreaming of the championship, pursued it with the kind of single-minded determination that sometimes left her in awe.

"But...this is your dream," she said, lowering her head to try to catch his eyes, but he evaded her gaze.

"Time to find another dream, I guess." His tone didn't match the optimism of his words.

"Hey, maybe this isn't the right time to make any decisions. You're emotional. Take a little time, get your head right..."

"I decided this a while back. I knew going in it would be my last fight if I lost."

"But...why?"

He finally managed to drag his eyes up to hers. "Losing tonight means a big-money fight is three years away, at least. And that's if everything shakes out perfectly. I'm almost thirty now, and even that's on the old side for a fighter. Chances of me winning big in my mid-thirties are slim-to-none."

"If anyone can do it, you can. The way you train there's no reason..."

"I can't put Nessa's life on hold for that long. I can't raise her in this shit-hole apartment, in this kind of neighborhood. And I can't bend my training schedule around her, either. It's not too bad when she's five, but soon she'll have lots of school friends and want to have them over. She'll want to do extra-curricular stuff at school. I can't train like I need to and still devote the time that Nessa deserves. And Nessa's more important."

Jane looked at him, unsure what to say or how to react. This wasn't his typical bummed-because-he-lost disappointment. She'd seen that before and knew how it looked and sounded. This was something else entirely.

This was the death of his dream.

"Anyway," he shifted on the couch and she reluctantly climbed off him and allowed him to stand. "I really appreciate you looking after Nessa. I knew I could trust you with her."

"Any time - she was an angel. But I really think you should give this a little more thought."

He tried to manufacture another smile but it didn't go well.

"I'm going to hit the sack. I'll figure something out in the morning." He caressed her cheek gently, then pecked her on the forehead before limping into the bedroom, not even bothering to brush his teeth.

Jane turned out the lights, leaving one on in the bathroom for Nessa, then set out her own bedding on the lumpy couch. But sleep wouldn't come.

She couldn't imagine Mike not being a fighter - he'd been fighting since he was fifteen. She'd always assumed he'd win big at some point, but now what? There wouldn't be many job opportunities out there for a thirty year-old with no marketable skills and a high school education. Life would be hard for him, and for Nessa.

But surely Mike would persevere. Jane consoled herself with the thought that his physical and mental toughness would be enough to pull through. He was a warrior at heart, and he'd withstand whatever life threw at him. No need for her to worry about him. He was proud. The last thing he would want was her pity.

She settled into the cushion and tried to force aside the nagging sympathy inside her, tried to focus on the immediate future. Her future. The first day of spring was less than forty-eight hours away. Had she done enough to save her own life? She started to brainstorm ideas - there had to be more she could do to secure his trust...

But the memory of the misery in his eyes wouldn't leave her. The tremor in his voice. His dream had died...and he was grieving. Alone. For some reason, it was this that bothered her most of all, that he was alone with his pain on one of the worst nights of his life. The idea of it gnawed at her, and the more she thought about it the worse it got. Soon it became unbearable.

"Mike? Could you come here?"

The words were out before she'd realized it; a half-conceived idea had escaped her lips on its own.

She heard the bed creak in the bedroom and his lopsided limp as he came to her in the living room.

"What's wrong?" His voice, though weary, still registered concern for her.

"I'm in pain."

He sat on the edge of the couch cushion and looked down at her, and even in the dim light from the bathroom she could make out the serious expression on his face.

"What hurts?"

She struggled into a sitting position, then wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him close.

"Just hold me." Jane felt him hesitate but she didn't release him. Soon his arms wrapped her up too, gently at first but before long he was squeezing her tight. "I'm sorry. I know how much it meant to you. I know it was your dream," she said. It was all she could think of; her words had deserted her.

He sighed then, a long, miserable sigh; a sob with the sound removed. She felt her own tears brimming. His pain was hurting her. She hugged him harder.

"Yeah," he said, and that was all.

She hoped he wouldn't cry. She'd never seen him cry and didn't know if she'd be able to deal with it, didn't know if she could bear the pain of his tears. Let him be angry, or accusing, or smug or caustic. Anything but tears.

A long time time passed as they clung to each other. Half an hour, maybe more. She wouldn't let him go and he made no effort to pull back.

"I'm going to miss you," he said. His voice sounded stronger. The worst had passed. "When you go back to your old life, I mean. I'll miss you."

Her old life. Without Mike. It didn't feel right - something inside her recoiled at the thought of it. But she knew she couldn't be part of his future - not in the way she had been before. The risks to him were just too great. And in any case, he'd never trust her enough to let her back into his heart. Not after all the sins of the past.

...Or would he? He'd said he trusted her. He'd gone so far as to guarantee he'd pass any test she could name. Maybe this was the test?

"What if," she started, then paused, uncertain and frightened of what was coming. She didn't want to promise what she couldn't deliver, didn't want to over-commit. "What if that wasn't what I wanted?"

He broke the embrace but held her hands in her lap.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...what if...I wanted to keep you in my life?"

"You mean get back together?" His voice sounded both disbelieving and...hopeful? Or did she imagine that last part?

"I don't know, Mike. I'm just testing the waters here. Would you be open to something like that, hypothetically?"

"I don't know. I always kind of assumed this was a short-term thing. But having you in my life again, long-term?"

"I know. Crazy, right?" she said with a nervous smile.

He was quiet and regarded her intently. She forced herself to hold his gaze. She'd put the idea out there and there was no graceful way to retract it. More than that, she wasn't sure she wanted to take it back; the more she thought about it the more the idea made sense to her. This was the ultimate test.

He gave a wry smile - a genuine one this time. It was a welcome sight.

"Me marrying a dying woman and adopting her little girl is crazy. Believing an old woman put a fatal curse on you is crazy. You fucking another guy to prevent my suicide is crazy," he said. "Spending more time with you, having you in my life again? That's not too crazy. Sounds pretty nice, actually."

"You'd be willing? Even after all that happened? You'd trust me?"

His eyes didn't leave her. "Yeah, I would."

Her spirits soared. He'd passed the test! Or she'd passed it - either way it was incredible news! If he trusted her enough to let her into his heart again, surely there was no higher level of trust than that. Jane had 'regained the trust most cruelly betrayed'. She'd won! She'd beaten the curse!

...And yet...

...And yet the shadow of the curse remained, looming over her. She could still feel its weight, undiminished, pressing down on her.

Confusion and panic set in. How was that possible? What had she missed? Surely there was no one she'd betrayed more cruelly than Mike. She'd been positive he was the one - it hadn't even been a close contest. Had he lied about trusting her? Been bluffing to make her feel better? Impossible - Mike was terrible at bluffing. She'd know if he were being less than completely honest. So why did the curse remain?

"Jane?" Mike said, and she realized he'd been talking all the while and she'd been too preoccupied with her own thoughts to hear his words. She gave him an apologetic half-smile.

"Sorry...say that again?"

"I said the real question is: would you trust me?"

"Trust you? I trust you with my life, literally."

"But you don't trust me with MY life. That's why you ended it the first time. You figured if things went south..." he said, leaving the thought unfinished.

"I trust you completely. It's just...I've seen what happens, and I love you too much to-"

"Wait...what?"

She stopped and replayed the words in her head. Had she really said 'love'? She had - and she realized it was true. She DID love him. Had he re-captured her heart, or had he possessed it all along? She supposed it didn't matter - the love was there now and that's all that counted.

"I said I love you too much to put you at risk," she said, doubling down on the word. It was the right word - why not use it?

"So what kind of relationship would we have? You love me but don't want me to love you or I might kill myself? How's that going to work?"

"Well...the first time around you were unguarded. I was protecting you. But maybe now you see where I'm coming from so you can keep your guard up and-"

He smiled and shook his head. "Nope. I don't want that. If it's going to work, I need you in close, not held at arm's length. I'll trust you to play fair, and you'll trust me to handle myself if things go bad. That's how trust works. That's the deal."

It seemed almost reasonable when he put it like that. Almost. But there was no way she'd take that risk. Never again. Not with Mike, not with anyone. Not after what had happened to Pierto...and to her dad.

"Anyway, give it some thought. I should get some sleep - I have a busy day of unemployment tomorrow and I don't want to be too tired to enjoy it," Mike said. He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the lips, then nuzzled her gently with his cheek. "Thanks for this. For being here, I mean. I was having a rough time."

"What are friends for?" she said, pulling him down for another hug.

But even as he squeezed her tight the awful reality set in. She'd failed. She'd won Mike's trust but the curse remained and there was no time left to find a different solution. The next two days would be her last. The curse would kill her before Monday.

**

There had been many times in the past few months that Jane had contemplated how she'd spend her final days. She'd composed elaborate 'bucket lists' in her head, itemizing all the ambitious and exotic adventures she'd enjoy in her final hours.

Waiting in a doctor's clinic on a Saturday morning to get stitches removed hadn't appeared on any of those bucket lists.

She'd told Mike she had errands to run and that she'd be back with dinner. There was no point in telling him the curse was still active - he'd only worry about it and couldn't do anything to fix it anyway. He'd tried his hardest and given her more than she could have hoped for going in. Ultimately, the failure was on her, not on him.

Part of her wondered why she was bothering with the stitches - she'd be dead before Monday, so what difference did it make whether her appendectomy stitches were in or out? But she had plans for her final evening with Mike, and she wanted to look her best for him. It was vain, without question, but surely a condemned woman was entitled to a little vanity?

From there she met with her lawyer to review her will, then returned to her apartment for a long-awaited shower and to write a sentimental, forgiving letter to her sister. In truth she hadn't decided whether or not to forgive her older sibling, but given that Jane would be dead soon, it didn't cost her anything to be gracious.

In the afternoon she treated herself to a spa, massage, sauna, facial treatment and manicure/pedicure; four hours of absolute heaven. That HAD been on the bucket list!

Through it all she was surprised by how calm she felt - almost serene. Maybe the reality of her doomed situation hadn't hit her yet, or maybe she'd been subconsciously preparing herself for this possibility for weeks and had made her peace with it. Maybe she was just tired of fighting it, tired of the worry, panic and stress, and was ready for it to be over.

She brought pizzas back to Mike's apartment in time for dinner, along with doughnuts, soft drinks and, in one last act of rebellion against Mike's strict diet, a tub of rocky road ice cream. She noticed that Mike indulged himself as enthusiastically as Nessa did - now that he wasn't training for a fight he'd loosened up a bit. She hoped he wouldn't put on weight and ruin a truly breathtaking physique.

After dinner Mike did the washing up and grabbed a shower while Jane and Nessa cuddled up on the couch to watch Cinderella. Watching a Disney movie with a five-year-old wasn't on the bucket list either, but Jane enjoyed it so much she resolved, in the event of reincarnation, to put it on her next one.

Jane bathed Nessa and got her into bed, then sat with her and read three stories. Mike was home and he could have done it, of course, but it would be her last night with Nessa and Jane wanted to leave the child with only good memories of her. Nessa fell asleep part-way through the last book and Jane carefully covered her then bent and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. She prayed the kid would have a good life. Jane felt a pang of regret that she wouldn't be around to see it.

She admired the little girl's spirit - Nessa had handled the death of her mother a lot better than Jane had dealt with losing her father. Different circumstances but no less traumatic, she imagined.

Jane hit the shower next for a quick rinse and took extra time to shave, wanting everything to be exactly perfect for Mike. When she shut the water off she brushed her teeth and checked her appearance again in the mirror. Her appendectomy scar was unsightly but she knew Mike wasn't the type to be squeamish about such things. In any case, it felt revitalizing to be clean.

Mike stopped his cleaning when Jane emerged naked from the bathroom and limped slowly in his direction on her crutch. She could see his eyes were drawn to her breasts, the way they bounced and swayed with her uneven gait. She basked in his hungry gaze even as she blushed at her own brazen display.

It felt sexy and exciting to approach him this way - to offer him everything, with nothing held back. Tonight, finally, she could come to him with no agenda, no ulterior motives, no dark secrets and no fear of the consequences. On their last night together, her only focus would be on him and the feelings they had for one another. The certainty of her fate had liberated her.

"Well this is a treat," he said in a quiet tone, his eyes roaming over her body.

She slowly closed the distance between them, then stepped into his embrace. His arms went around her as she gently pulled his mouth down to hers. The first kiss was quick; the second lasted longer and she sought his tongue with her own. She hadn't French kissed since college and had forgotten how intimate, how reckless it felt. It was several seconds before she pulled back and locked her eyes on his - by far the loveliest eyes she'd ever seen.

"I love you, Mike. I loved you then and I love you now. You're my first, last and only love." Her own words delighted her, the fact that she was speaking them thrilled her. At last she could confess her feelings with no hesitation or reservation. For the first time in her adult life, love carried no risks.

He seemed taken off guard by the bold and uncharacteristic declaration, but broke into a grin and raised an eyebrow, amused. "If this is a sales pitch, it's the greatest one in human history."

She laughed, then pulled him in for another leisurely kiss. There was no rush; they had all evening and she'd been kiss-deprived for weeks.

"Good to know. Next time I'll lead with this," she replied at last.

"Does this mean we're back on? An item? Are we giving this another shot?"

"I don't know what it means. I just need you to know how I feel." She wouldn't give him false hope; tonight was about the present, not the future and - for once - not the past.

He held her eyes with his. "I love you too. Maybe I never stopped, I'm not sure. But having you around makes me happier than I've been in years."

She kissed him again, tasted his tongue. She could feel her body heating, her breath coming faster already.

"I don't believe you; I'll need to see a demonstration," she said with a grin. She took an awkward step toward the couch, pulling him with her.

"Have you been medically cleared for penis-related activities?" he asked.

"The doctor today said it's okay, just be gentle."

"You won't even know I'm there."

"Okay, not THAT gentle."

He chuckled and kissed her again. His hands came up to cup her breasts and give a firm squeeze. He pinched and rolled her nipples between thumb and index finger. A wave of arousal coursed through her.

She couldn't get enough of his lips, his tongue. She'd refrained from kissing him earlier, concerned it was too intimate after how they'd left things in their relationship. That had been a mistake - she chastised herself for avoiding the pleasure and thrill of his embrace.

The two of them shuffled to the couch, exchanging kisses and caresses as they moved. His hands hadn't left her breasts, continuing to tease her nipples fully erect. When they reached the end of the couch he lowered her to the cushions gently.

"How do you want it tonight?" he asked, his voice thick, his eyes hungry.

"Anything. Everything. Just...I want to see you. I want to see your eyes on me."

"On your back," he said, helping her recline. He knelt on the floor and lowered his mouth to her smooth pussy, stroking her clit with slow licks, his eyes still fixed on hers.

His gorgeous eyes and the sensation of his tongue on her most sensitive nerve centre boosted her arousal. She sighed and gasped and squirmed. Her hips wouldn't stay still, lifting to chase his wet caress, eager to capture every millisecond of contact.

He obliged her by slowing down, running the full length of his tongue over her with every lick. She could feel the tightening inside her as a climax began to build, the flush on her skin, the pounding of her heart. She welcomed it, letting the wash of sensation carry away her worries.

He pulled back, delaying her peak, then stood up and quickly shed his own clothing, revealing his impossibly well-defined body and beautiful, erect cock. She dropped her hand to her sex and stoked the fire there with skillful strokes of her fingertips. She didn't want to come, not without him.