Page 102 of Keep Your Guard Up
~
Question after question we were asked.
“What are your plans for this fight?”
“How do you feel about your training?”
“How do you feel about your opponent’s training?”
My head pounded, hypoglycaemia well and truly underway. I could practically feel the calories falling off me.
“Chance, a little birdie told us you have someone special to dedicate all of your hard work to?”
I hadn’t seen her before. But at the question, of course I found her. She stood along the side of the crowded room. Her beautiful curls were pulled on top of her head, though the same strays fell around her face. A black T-shirt dress fell loose around her frame but was pulled around her waist by a thick black belt. Across the chest, in big orange letters, was the Knock’s logo. Those mile-long legs finished with a pair of plain black heels that made her legs look even longer. She’d done her makeup for the occasion, but she clearly hadn’t caked it on like Talia—
Shit.
There was something I was meant to say here.
“I wouldn’t have been able to do this without the support of my wonderful, loving wife, Talia.”
The crowd let out cheers of applause and appreciation. Love was something everyone could relate to.
But I didn’t feel it, not when I spoke of Talia.
I felt it for the woman at the back of the room, with the face filled with devastation. Her eyes were on mine, even though she was more than fifty metres away. I could practically feel the hurt radiating off of her.
My mouth started to move when her feet headed for the door.
“Wait!” I shouted, standing to my feet.
Where did this energy come from?
She paused, glancing over her shoulder. That one stray curl I liked to brush away fell over her forehead.
“Bray,” I addressed the interviewer. “I’d like to change my answer.”
The man nodded me on. The crowd had gone deathly silent, and I could feel the steam coming from Talia’s ears brushing up against the back of my neck.
“The only thing I have Talia to thank for, is for giving me a reason to leave her.”
Gasps bounced through the crowd, followed by friends hushing them down, eager to hear more. But all I could focus on was Sunny. She’d turned back towards me, hands folded over her chest as one reached up to cover her mouth. “If she hadn’t done all she’d done—if she hadn’t hit me, kicked me, and tore me down—I would never have left Darlington Harbour. I would never have moved out to Soggla, where my best friend and new martial arts family were waiting for me. And I never would have met the real love of my life.”
I paused, glancing around the room at the crowd hanging off my every word.
No going back now.
“My name is Chance Riordan. And I’m a victim of domestic violence.”
Talia screamed.
The crowd was murmuring, yelling all kinds of things.
JJ and Dylan could have been swapped out for the clown carnival game, their mouths were open so wide.
And Al? Al gave me a single approving nod.
“No! You liar! You—”
