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Current Chapter Posted - Sunday, January 8, 2017  

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[^ I lowkey cried bc this story was my first, has been up for so long, and the fact that you guys still support Anna and Sam means the world to me. I love you. x]

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{ Chapter 25 } :  Nothing for heartache

Dragging my body like a ragdoll is the only way to describe what Sam did to me when he reached me.

An arm curved around my waist. A clammy hand clasped my wrist. I was surrounding in a warm and salty fortress of muscles as Sam maneuvered me so I was shielded in his body and away from the eager eyes of the crowd. I was too shell-shocked to utter a word of protest. I didn't appreciate being manhandled as he weaved us a pathway through the ringing shouts and victory whistles of the people, courtesy of the fight.

Nate caught up to us halfway. Sam walked us faster across the clearing and together, the two boys paved a way for us until we reached one of the abandoned brick buildings.

A door, propped open with a makeshift wooden stopper, greeted us.

"Close the door," Sam growled above my head to Nate as he ushered us inside.

Two blue flickering bulbs loomed over our heads, giving a glimpse of the narrow hallway that led to an arrowed pair of staircase.

My throat was dry, but my voice was frantic as I spoke up. "Where are you taking me?"

I tried snatching myself away from Sam, but to no avail. He held on closer. I could feel the thumping of his heart against my hand.

"Take her down, Sam," Nate instructed in his deep baritone as he pulled the lever and closed the door.

Instantly, the barrier of the door between us and the clearing drowned out any remaining sounds until it was all a muted blur. A few heavy thumps echoed against the steel door, followed by more congratulatory hollers, but I didn't have the time to ponder over it as Sam continued his show of dragging me down the stairs without my consent. I wasn't his property.

His furious strides were no match for my heeled booties. My heart was pounding a fast drumming rhythm and threatening to jump out of it's confinements now that the shock had worn off.

Nate's heavy footfalls resounded behind us, a little bit angry, just like his tone. "Richie is going to kill you, Sam, if he finds out you brought her here."

Sam finally released my hand after I shot him a glare, but kept me close to his body with an arm around my waist. "I don't give a fvck what Richie will say. She's all that matters to me," he spoke through gritted teeth.

Before my stupid heart could make anything of that declaration, we came to the bottom of the staircase and Sam pushed open another steel door.

We stepped into another dimly lit room.

I drank in the sight with quick, fascinated eyes.

Large and long, the room was partially covered in old and tattered gym mattresses. Several battered punching bags that had seen better days hung down the rafters by chains. Loads of equipment was stashed in every corner of the place like an artful mess, along with the essentials scattered everywhere. Although worn-out, the room had an odd vibe that screamed cozy and homey, despite the somber quality of the place. This may have been due to the dim light decorating the espace.

The shining trophy in the room, however, was the larger than life octagonal cage with black fence, sitting smack-dab in the middle of the training ground. It was scary and imposing.

But not more intimidating then the four semi-nude chiseled men stretching on the mattresses in nothing but training shorts and taped knuckles.

There was one in particular who towered over the three younger looking ones. He had a fiery aura as he walked in circles around them with a cane, smacking it in intervals against the floor, yelling out instructions.

"Richie," Sam called out to him.

Richie, the guy with the cane, snapped his head our way. His eyes, which were a hauntingly gorgeous glassy-blue and smoky-grey, narrowed.

"What's the meaning of this?" His tone left little to no room for discussion, like he was the general in an army and these guys were his misbehaving soldiers.

"We have a situation on our hands," Nate stepped up onto a blue mattress, respectively taking off his shoes in the process, as if to please this Richie guy. "I think Sam may need the locker rooms."

"This is Anna," Sam enunciated with a wave in my direction, still holding onto my waist. Fvck the octagonal cage, as if I was the shining trophy in the room.

But Sam seemed mad at me for something, if the blazing intensity in his eyes was any indicator. He had the audacity to be mad at me?

Richie's gaze swept up and down, but not in a perverted fashion. Only as if he was trying to memorize my details and file them away for later.

Richie looked to be in his late twenties. Slightly on the paler side. Decent height. Brown hair that was the barest touch of red. Rugged - almost craggy - features. But not completely unattractive. He had his appeal. He wasn't shirtless like the rest of the guys. The tight black top he had on hinted at the roped muscles packed underneath. His right arm was covered in a colourful tattoo sleeve.

You could tell he had a lot of authority in this place.

"We don't allow outsiders in this home, Sam." Richie flicked a look my way and then his lips pinched awkwardly as if he'd just hurt my feelings.

He hadn't. I was overwhelmed and would like nothing more than to leave. I was shaking in Sam's arms, but he paid no mind to that.

"She's not an outsider," Sam said lowly. "She's important to me."

Richie's eyes darted over our joined frames, noting how Sam held me protectively close. "I can see that. Make it quick, Sam."

One rapid nod was all Richie got. Then Sam was hauling me away. I almost sighed with relief because I felt like a clown in a freak show with the way the guys – including Richie – perused me. Inspected me. Observed Sam with me. Us. Together.

"One more thing, Sam."

Sam stopped as he shot a lookover his shoulder to Richie. "Yeah?"

He knocked his cane once on the floor. "Who won the fight outside?"

A cocky smirk that was so well deserved grazed Sam's mouth. "What do you think?"

Richie's mouth almost tipped into a proud smile, like the one a father would grant his son. "Good boy."

Then I was being propelled into another room.

This time with no Nate or Richie or four sweaty males. Just Sam.

Just Sam and me.

* * *

The locker room was a common boring affair with grey lockers coating three-quarters of the walls, wooden benches in the middle and a small entryway for a row of showers and sink.

My temper, however, was not a common affair.

"Are you done manhandling me?" I spat as Sam finally released me, pushing me softly into the room.

He didn't say a word. No. Sam slumped against the door of the locker room, blocking my exit until I could only see, smell, feel, and hear him. Something about his presence always filled me with a burst of exhilaration. Tonight, I was filled to the brim with an uncontrollable wave of anger.

It may have been unjustified, but it's what I felt and I didn't know how to tame it. Didn't know how to not feel this way. My heightened emotions were taking the best of me.

Sam watched me warily under those hooded lids. It's like he was final catching his breath and letting the night's events catch up with him. The tension coiled deeply in his worked-up muscles was unravelling. My eyes followed the sweat gathered near his collarbone and smeared across his bare torso. His stomach muscles flexed and dipped deliciously under my gaze. My throat dry, I licked my lips. Sam's head fell back against the door and his mouth parted. He murmured my name like it was a prayer. "Jodanna."

I backed away until my back hit a locker. The distance between us cleared the hazy state of my mind. I also took my first real breath. "Samuel."

Sam and I gazed at each other, too exhausted to fix the whole distance thing.

"Who was that guy?" I asked him huskily, not recognizing my own voice. "What is this place?"

Sam's perfect sculpted chest – the one I slept on for the last three nights – gleamed with a sheen coat of moisture. His pecs heaved up and down and his shoulders shuddered with his exhale. His ink seemed even more vibrant and alive under these circumstances.

He ran his tape-covered fists over his face and raked then through his matted hair, taking the arrowed tip of his stylishly cropped dark blond hair.

"Richie. He owns this illegal underground gym. Ex-MMA fighter. He's my mentor. I'm one of his fighters."

Fighter. Illegal. MMA. Those were the only words my now spinning mind filtered. I rubbed at my temple with frail fingers.

"Why?"

"Mixed Martial Arts – MMA," Sam said some more, even gentler than the last time. "Striking. Grappling. I do some of it all. Muay Thai. Kickboxing. Jiu-jitsu. Judo. Been training in all of those and more for three years now. I mostly fight in the cage, but tonight was an exception.

I was still trying to grasp his words. "You fight. Illegally."

Sam nodded, miserably now, when he could see that he wasn't getting through to me. "Yeah, baby."

"Why, Sam?" He still hadn't answered me.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down with the admission. "It's...It's my outlet, Anna. Been that way for awhile and I'm damn good at it. I'm not stopping anytime soon just because you didn't like what you saw out there. I'm not going to apologize for being who I am. I only regret the fact that you had to see me like that."

I grabbed my head with both hands now. A small sliver of a headache was pounding its way in my neck, reaching up to the base of my skull. "Why would you think I'd want you to stop? Why would you think you'd need to apologize to me? Why would you...I'm not asking you to be anything."

"Bullshxt," Sam said through gritted teeth, pushing away from the door. "I can see it in your eyes. You're mad. You're disgusted."

"I don't like violence," I panted when he started coming closer. "You know this." One step. Two step. "You know this, Sam. I was scared shxtless when you beat...that guy... in front of Danny's. I don't like seeing people hurt and I certainly don't like seeing you hurt either. And I certainly don't like knowing you hurt people...as an outlet... or whatever."

"I'm not going to say sorry for hitting that guy." A muscle in his jaw jumped. "Anyone puts their hands on you, I put my fvcking hands on them. You got that, baby?"

"When were you going to tell me, Sam?" Breathing was difficult with him coming so close and uttering the word 'baby' in such a soft growl. "I've told you about my dad. I've told you things I haven't told anyone. Please," I begged. "When were you going to tell me?"

"I don't know if I was ever going to tell you."

My plastered body stiffened against the lockers. His words felt like a slap. I knew he was hiding something from me, but I didn't expect it to be something like this. "You say these things to hurt me, baby, or what?"

"Hurting you is not on my list, sweetheart. Understand that."

I threw my hands around us in a fit. Finally loosing my shit. "Then why are you so reluctant to share with me? You say all the right things. You'll say you want more. I'm trying to trust you with me and then you pull back. You do everything in your power to make sure that we spend time together. That I spend the nights in your bed, my head on your chest, your hands in my hair. That we even look like we're together when we're not. I want to give you more, Sam. But I can't – " My voice was a broken whisper. "I can't give you more if you pull back in moments like these. I want to trust you. You want a chance with me? You want something real? Well so do I, Sam. I'm trying here, just like you're trying. We've overlooked our start. We're trying to live in the present. But don't mess up a possible future by pulling back in moments like these. Don't do this to me, baby."

He didn't say anything, just pinned me with a hurt, angry glare.

I was defeated. My shoulders sagged and I smacked my palm out of frustration against the lockers. "What do you want from me, Sam? Honest. Be straight up with me. Because I need to know. You used to get mad when I'd pull away and make assumptions about you. When I'd come up with a billion reasons in my head why I shouldn't even want anything from you. You made it clear that you don't treat every girl the way you treat me. That I'm special. I'm not stupid. I understand what you're saying. Then I go and realize how wrong I am. That I want to be with the guy who thinks I'm special because he's special to me too. I'm starting to see sides of him that I like. That I want. Then you go and tell me you think about me a lot... But don't know if that means anything. How is that fair to me? I still overlooked it. You then tell me that it fvcking means something. That we're moving forward. That we both want more. I can understand if you need time to share the things that make you who you are today. I'll always respect that. But telling me that you don't know if you were ever going to tell me? Well, that's hurtful. It's hurtful because I'm so ready to tell you everything. Yet you'd be willing to hide away the pieces of you that make you...you. That's not a great start, Sam. I'd rather take you as you are than take a fake depiction of what you're trying to be for me because you think I can't handle it. And...maybe I'm exaggerating with all of this. But I'm tired of living in my head and...Oh, God. My head's killing me. I'm thinking too much. I'm tense. My headache's coming back and I have no medication to soothe -"

"-Are you done?" he rasped. "Because I'd like you to take back the part where you said you're not asking me to be anything."

I was short of breath. "That's...Is that all you caught from what I said?"

"It's a fvcking shame, Barbie," Sam pressed as he advanced towards me, his voice ricocheted in the empty locker room. "Because I fvcking mean something to you...based on everything you just said. And you damn well mean something to me. I'm not anything, Anna. I'm more. I fvcking mean more than anything."

I thumped my head against a locker, backing up, adding to my headache. "God, you're so infuriating. Sending me mixed signals. I'm so done."

"Give me time, baby," Sam whispered pleadingly. "I'm not right in the head. I've just fought and seeing you so far away from me, yet so close, is fvcking with my head. I didn't mean my words in a way to hurt you."

"Then in what way, Sam? Because they hurt me. They are hurting me," I corrected.

Keeping his emerald eyes on me, burning with something warm and lethal, Sam bit the tape at his knuckles with his teeth and slowly began unwinding it. Even in this frazzled state, it was the hottest sight I'd ever seen. Him coming closer with a precise slowness. Him ripping himself away of his defenses with calculated measurement. He dropped the tape, previously wrapped around his right hand, carelessly on the ground.

I knew understood the look in his face. My heart lurched and then sunk. "You're not kissing me."

He smirked heart-poundingly and began undressing his other hand. He's not going to kiss me. I won't let him. Not when I feel so muddled like this...

"Your scars. Your wounds. Your bruises. They're all from this place."

"They are and I'm proud of each one of them. They represent the person I am now. They've shaped me."

I watched him with rapt attention as he finally closed the distance between us. "You're not kissing me."

He ignored my words. "But most of all, I like how you touch them. I love how you trace them when you've got your head on my chest. When you think I'm sleeping, but damn well know I'm awake and feeling everything."

"Sam." There was no more room to back up. Sam's solid and warm body molded itself to mine.

"And I will be kissing you. Get that through your thick and stubborn skull, Anna."

No. I didn't want him to kiss me right now. Not like this. Even though every one of my panting breaths fell against Sam's jaw. He leaned his forearms on either side of me and used his free hand to sinuously touch my face. His nose floated over my cheek. I tipped my head back so my mouth was far away from his.

"Baby, look at me."

The only reason why I felt tears gathering in my eyes was because I was overwhelmed with my thoughts and emotions. My head was hurting after so long, and I liked this guy too much.

"You mean so much to me," he said against my heated neck, his fingers grabbing my hips. He fitted us perfectly and gr*aned. "So, so much. Fvck. Hurting you is the last thing I want. I'm an a$shole."

I didn't say anything as he rained kisses along my collarbone.

"But I'm you're a$shole, got it? I'm your as$wipe. Or whatever you want to call it." He pulled my earlobe in his mouth. "You make me say crazy shxt. I don't think twice in your case. And I end up hurting you when that's the last thing I want. Sorry, baby. So, so sorry."

I was holding my breath.

"Put your arms around me," he whispered against my cheek. "Fvck, you should know by now that you mean to me more than you can imagine. More." He kissed one corner of my mouth. "Than." The other corner. "Anything." Framed my jaw in both of his hands, looking me deep in the eyes. "Let me kiss you, Anna."

My lips trembled and I curved an arm around his neck. My fingernails grazed the short edges of his cropped hair at the base of his head. My other hand freely cupped his bruised cheek lovingly.

He brushed his thumb over my lips twice, until he forced them open. I svcked his thumb in my mouth. He gr*oaned, the sound so hot it reverberated through me. "One kiss, Anna. And then I'll tell you everything you want to hear. Promise. Hurting you is the last thing on my mind. Please, believe this."

He put his forehead against mine.

"If you don't kiss me right now, Sam, I may just have to punch you in the balls."

"I'm sure your punch is weak."

"You can teach me how to properly pack one with all that fighting you do."

His eyes lit up with more than just desire and lu-st for me. This was me accepting that side of his. "Mm." A sound so hungry and feral dropped from his throat. "Teach you how to properly throw a punch so you can hurt me in the balls? I'm so twisted up for you right now, I might just consider it. Anything to get those hands close to my hard d#ck and heavy b#lls."

I choked but my laughter was cut short when he rolled his h*ps and I felt just how hard he was. I m*oaned. "Now you're teasing. Fvcking kiss me already, Beer Boy."

"Anything