Chapter 35: Last Fights
My woman is coming back to me whole, I can tell as much. She may be in the ring once more and she may have gotten hurt by Magdalene’s hammerings fists. But she is happy. None is doing any real damage and they don’t fight to kill, that much is obvious. But the faint smile on Lysa’s is unmistakable. She is putting all the guilt behind her and she is enjoying this.
Magda has gotten a few punches through and Lysa has fought back. This is a good fight and this time my brothers have let their instincts run loose. They scream and shout and they all support Lysa, chanting her name, urging her.
All but Runner. He stays silent and follows Magda with his look. What the fuck? I study my brother once more and I have never seen that look on his face. But then again, I can’t say I have seen the man enraptured by a woman before so what do I know?
I turn back in the ring and Lysa is pinned in the corner protecting her face and torso. I go back into trainer mode and hit the mat with fervor. Light match or not I don’t like watching my girl getting hurt.
“Shake her off!” I order.
Lysa pushes forcefully and Magda loses her footing. That is enough for Lysa that pounces on her, tightens her thighs around Magda’s waist and takes her down in a hold. Magda fights to free herself but Lysa adjusts and incapacitates her more. She is gentle with the dislocated shoulder, I can tell as much, but her stance is pushing for submission.
But Magda has fight still in her and with one sudden move she frees herself and resumes her fighting position. She even beckons at Lysa to come at her. My girl jumps up and smiles.
“Headlock!” I order.
I need this over. I want inside Lysa so bad, I am this close taking Magda down myself. Lysa circles Magda and avoids a powerful kick. She then grabs Magda and tightens her grip around her neck. Magda tries to hit Lysa with her head but my girl is faster. She twirls her and gets her tied down exactly like she did in Jack’s cage.
Once more, Lysa is tender with the shoulder she herself had dislocated but her hold is firm. But this time Magda is prepared. She turns her body, wiggles out of Lysa’s arms and she even manages to land a punch.
“Goddamn it!” I hiss.
Magda is ready to straddle Lysa and incapacitate her but my girl is not done yet. Her body turns and with one skillful move, she traps Magda’s legs that falls with a loud thud on the mat right on her hurt shoulder. The place goes mad with shouts and everyone has Lysa’s name on their lips.
“Oh, fuck!” Lysa drops the fight and looks at Magda that is lying right next to her. “Are you OK?”
As Lysa kneels worried over Magdalene, the place goes quiet. I am ready to kill Magdalene and I see a few of the brothers take out their guns, Daniel among them. Lysa has exposed herself to Magdalene, her stance is vulnerable and she is not alert. All that bitch needs to do is attack.
Magda stares at Lysa for a while but says nothing. I see her press her lips together and close her eyes. Tears are running down her cheeks. Motherfucking tears. And then Magda sighs deeply and taps the mat three times. Lysa won! It was not because she overpowered her opponent – which she did if you ask me – but because she cared. She genuinely cared.
“Fuck, princess!” I rush into the ring to go to Lysa.
The howls erupting in the gym are deafening. The brothers rejoice to see Lysa triumphant but I am even happier to see her help her opponent up and then share a hug with her. It is the way for both of them to overcome their grief. And it’s a clear declaration to all the brothers that Magda is not an enemy of the club. They break the hug, look at each other for a while and then Lysa turns to me.
“It is done,” is all she says and sinks into my arms with her eyes watered.
“It’s over princess,” I kiss her forehead.
“Vik, thank you,” she whispers over my lips.
“For what, Lys? For making you one hell of a fighter?” I smirk.
“For loving me,” she reaches up for a smoldering kiss
It’s been three days since that night. Lysa’s soul is whole and at ease, her smiles go all the way up to her eyes, she laughs easily, she teases and jokes. She is back to me, mine to hold and cherish. It’s silly to think that I knew what I wanted out of life a while back. How ridiculous that man was, with his endless string of women, the saucy comments, the bragging. This is me, here with her.
It’s afternoon and Lysa is napping after we made love for two long, sweet hours. I am sitting on the couch, in my drawstrings, my elbows on my knees and I hold that velvet box in my hand. I am watching Lysa sleep in peace finally and with one sated smile on her lips. She looks so breathtaking, calm and peaceful as she is, her long hair on the pillow, her body stretched on my bed, her full lips slightly parted. My heart aches at such beauty and it’s all mine.
As if sensing me studying her, she stirs and I hide the box between the pillows. Slowly she opens those dark, chocolate eyes of hers and she finds mine. A smile spreads on her lips and she props on her elbow, supporting her head. Fuck, she is so goddamn beautiful! I go instantly hard but I keep it together.
“Hey, princess,” I kneel on the floor next to her face.
“Hey, Vik,” her smile widens. “What kind of name is Vik anyway?”
I shake my head in laughter. This time I know she really wants to know. She wants to know me more and I let her.
“Well, my Dad was a Rider, you know that. He used to tell me these tales of Tyr and Norse gods and Vikings,” I hesitate.
“Do go on,” her head falls on her twined arms.
“I really liked those stories when I was a kid. Loved them, obsessed over them. And when Dad got me a wooden sword, I went around poking everyone screaming “I am a Viking!”. The guys thought it was funny and they started calling me Viking,” I shrug.
Lysa falls on her back and laughs her heart out. Her whole body is shaking and she puts her hands on her belly while tears fall down her cheeks. This is the fucking most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
“Are you making fun of me, woman?” I pretend I am angry.
“No, no. You must have been so cute,” she wipes the tears.
“Cute?” I stand up. “I am a goddamn Viking! We pillage villages and burn cities. We take riches and rape women,” my look takes her all in.
“Oh, big, bad Viking warrior,” she teases, “don’t take poor, old me.”
“I take what I want!” I fall over her supporting myself on my elbows, pinning her down.
My head drops and I take her lips in mine. She shifts under me and opens her legs to let me slide between them. Will I ever get enough of her? Probably not. And she won’t get enough of me. I know it by looking in her eyes taking me in with a famished gaze as if I haven’t touched her for days.
“Yes, Vik. Take me,” Lysa scratches my back with her fingers.
“I will, princess,” I nibble on her earlobe, “I will take you to dinner.”
And with that, I get out of bed. When I look back down at her she is like a child that has just had her ice cream snatched away.
“If you are not going to fuck me, Vik, you should stop wearing those damn drawstrings around me. I can’t think straight when you in these. Ever since that day we met in the gym...” she bites her lip.
It’s not that I haven’t noticed how she looked at me back in the days when every other word she threw at me was an insult, but it is nice to hear her admit the effect I had on her.
“I beat you to it, Lys,” I smile. “I was a goner the first time I saw you.”
She sits up and her long hair falls over her shoulders. She pulls her legs to her chest and hugs them looking at me.
“This is it, Vik, right? You and me? We are it,” she is not asking, just stating.
“I am famished.” I try to hide my agitation. “Get up and get ready.”
Cause I am ready to show you exactly what I want us to be.