Page 1 of The Midnight Delivery

ROUND ONE

The way he moves isso...so sensual,I thought to myself in the quiet space between matches. I had to shift positions in the upholstered swivel chair as I began to tingle. The chair was uncomfortable, and the tingle even more so, but I couldn’t stop devouring him. The film captured some of the transitions between matches but would cut out the audio. Watching the people move on the screen in silence was reminiscent of the early days of film when black and white prevailed. The video would have been funny, watching the people move about like ants in a nest, but all I could see was him. Straining to follow his movements into the crowd, until he was nothing but a pixelated blur blending in with other blurs was thirsty work. And I had already drunk my water for the day.If only.

My phone buzzed in my hand and I glanced down to see the notification. Flicking the screen to life, I inputted the password unlocking my phone, and looked at the red bubble as it danced above the application. It alerted me to the fact that I had messages to look at. The application was a dating one I’d signed up for a few weeks before when I was bored, and the notification was I had matched with another man. As a general rule, I hated these types of apps because the majority of the men on there were only looking for one thing, and I wasn’t about that life. But, it was a good way to pass the time on some nights, swiping left through the sea of shirtless bathroom selfies, or guys on boats. Of course, every-so-often I would swipe right on a guy, because he’d taken the time to properly fill out his profile with words. In my mind, I would be rewarding him for showing he was an actual human, and not some love starved animal by showing interest and moving his pictures to the right. Then, invariably, I’d be greeted with a chat opener of “Hey,” and shortly after an unsolicited picture of their dick with the expectation that I would respond by sending them a picture of my lady bits. I was beginning to wonder if the men on these sites were capable of having any coherent thought, let alone an intellectual one. It was all one huge eye-rolling experience, but if I was honest with myself, one I was addicted to.

Recently, I’d found myself going to the app more and more on the off-chance Mr. black-and-white video would be there. My phone would buzz because he was also on the prowl for love and saw my profile. He would be overcome with my beauty and charmed by what I’d put in my profile. He wouldn’t be able to resist himself, and would swipe right on his phone, praying I had as well, begging for us to be connected with one another. His heart would leap for joy at the realization I’d already found him and also had swiped right. Once the miracle of technology brought our hearts together, it would be his, “Hey,” which would fill my inbox, and his dick I’d be seeing shortly after tofillmy inbox. It was the fantasy of a young school girl, but I couldn’t help myself. I became a moaning mess as I slipped two fingers below the waistband of my dark wash skinny jeans. Lusting after this man turned me into a wanting ocean waiting for him to move down my shores and dive deep.

“Ariana? You in here?”

“Yes,” I called over my shoulder. Quick as a cat, I moved my fingers off my pearl, and flicked the power button on the remote control. I’d forgotten the footage of my desire remained up on the television, and had to go. “I’m back here,” I answered the second black returned to the screen.

Dustin entered the cramped space and set his bag down on the cot to my left. He still had white, athletic tape wrapped on his hands and began to unfurl it as he planted a kiss on my forehead. It’s never a good feeling when your brother kisses you right after you get wet from watching another man move.

Dustin was a towering, hulk of a man. He always had to bend over to enter doorways or have strangers ask him to reach items up high. He had tremendous length and reach, and it’s one of the things that gave him an advantage over his opponents. “What were you watching?” He asked as he stood beside me.

“Nothing,” I say as I put my elbow into his hip and nudge. Sure, he’s a big, bad fighting machine, but I’m his twin sister and I know exactly where to hit him to bring him down to my size. Knowledge gained from years of experience and countless wrestling matches. At least while we were the same size. Around the age of thirteen, he hit a growth spurt and shot right past me, and has been looking down on me ever since. Not in a condescending sense, but because of his height. I’m older than him by a full five minutes, he’ll never look down on me the other way. I’ll kick his ass if he does, even if he is a world-class martial artist and street fighter.

Wincing back from my elbow in his hip socket, he chuckles and heads to the bathroom. “You can’t keep anything from me, Ari. I know you better than you know yourself,” he says as I hear him turn on the faucet in the sink. “You were blushing when I came in a moment ago. What are you watching? Was it porn? You know, sex like that isn’t real sex. Well, maybe you don’t know.”

“No,” I holler back over the sound of the running water. “And I know sex like that isn’t real.”

That’ll shut him up.

As expected, he leans his head back through the doorway of the bathroom and shoots me a look. I can’t stop the corner of my mouth as it turns up. Watching him scrunch his forehead always made me laugh, as only a sister would when irritating her brother. Still, he knew me like no other person in this world would. I wasn't watching porn, but watchinghimon screen? It was close enough to it. That manexudedsex appeal.

“You’d better not,” he mumbled loud enough for me to hear as he returns what seemed to be his disembodied head back to the inside of the bathroom.

Dustin’s overprotectiveness annoyed me, but it was necessary at times. Even though we were twins, he got all the athletic prowess from our father, and I got the looks from mom. My brother wasn’t ugly though, far from it. He had plenty of women throw themselves at him after matches. So many in fact, it forced me to play the role of bodyguard for him, as he did for me. Except, when it came to the rules of engagement on the battlefield of love, the same set of rules didn’t apply to me. Any man who would dare attempt to court me, was always dismissed by my very large brother. While he would have any woman he desired served to him on a silver platter, despite my protests to the contrary, celibacy was his meal of choice for me. Such was life in the patriarchal society of Cedoria.

It was a tiny little country, with a population peaking over three hundred thousand. Despite mainly covered in rainforests and with a rainy climate, our country's landscapeisenjoyable. There are small, playful waterfalls, imposing volcanic lava flows and astonishing aquatic wildlife. These are a sliver of the attractions Cedoria has to offer, which is why the country was a preferred destination among foreigners.

The country is lush, with most citizens living off cooking, mining, and wine brewing. Unfortunately, the people aren’t always pleasant towards foreigners. Some display an untoward habit of welcoming visitors with turned backs. They feel foreigners could butcher the country's well-being. I can’t blame them. People enter the country with fresh ideas and want to try to implement their cultures into the way of life, and a lot of people don’t like it. Change isn’t always a good thing, but it can also be a breath of refreshing air. We grew up with the expectation the women of Cedoria were to be treated well, but the men were still the heads of the family. It often proved to be tough to get your way. Or free to experience sexuality the way you could want to.

It didn’t matter to me, because I’m not about that life. I have the same sexual fantasies as any other normal, healthy girl, but what I don’t have is the time, or the desire to sleep around with tons of men. Dustin and I want more out of life, and with his ability to hold his own in the ring, his love for the sport, and my business acumen, I know we can achieve great things.

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MY ROLE IN THIS WORLDis simple. Provide for my family. Cedoria may be patriarchal in nature, but that doesn't mean the world stops because the men declare it so. Hunger knows no such limitations. My family consists of my brother, and myself, and we work together to put the food on the table. Mom and Dad both died when we were young. Removed from this world by a drunk driver who somehow walked away unscathed after he hit them head-on, they died too soon. It happened around the tender age of five for us, and we started to travel from home to home hoping someone would love us as their own. Dustin doesn’t remember them well, just a few flashes here or there as he describes it. I still do. The way mom would sing as she brushed my hair, or the way dad would take the leather ball outside and toss it to Dustin to work on his hand-eye coordination. We were robbed of the youth we should have had because someone didn’t know when to cut off their alcohol limit, and as a result, life taught us something quicker than most. The only people we could rely on to take care of us were ourselves.

“We take care of ourselves,” I would tell other promoters. We didn’t need help in securing accommodations or accept any favors from them. Most of them wanted two things, to secure a fight with my brother, and to get in my pants. I was good with the first, the second was a non-starter. These guys were pigs, and not worth my time or effort. Besides, if my brother found out I’d slept with any of them to secure a win for him, he’d most likely kill the man and then we’d have other issues. Dustin's temper was quick and dangerous. So, we always kept it professional. I’d set up the fights, he’d knock them down and we’d collect the prize money and move on. Things were simple and clean this way. Anyone that messed with me knew they had to deal with the Vampire, and no one wanted to see him outside of their scheduled bouts.

People thought Dustin got his nickname because of how he’d leave his opponents in the ring, but that wasn’t it at all. A particularly callous foster dad gave him that one day. He told him he was nothing but a little “bloodsucker,” and started calling him Vampire from that day on. When we got into the underground fight game, one of the first announcers asked us how to introduce him to the crowd. We both turned and looked at each other and nodded. The name meant to keep us downtrodden would now lift us up and strike fear into those who meant to cause us harm. Vampire was the only choice.

My brother was a natural fighter, and I had a way with words. It wasn't manipulative though. I had the ability to cut through the bullshit, see to the core of the matter, and find the best possible outcome for us. It’s not my fault if other people wanted to use flowery words or waste time trying to warm their subject up. Somehow, I was able to break all the rules in sales, yet still close the deal. I had an innate sense of when things were going to go sour, or if someone was trying to back us into a corner. We were an impressive team, my brother and me. He’d never lost a fight, and I never put us in a bad situation. Too bad both of us fucked up at the same time. What were the odds we both would suck at the exact same moment?

“Ariana.”

I knew that tone.

“They found us.”

Shit.We were also on the run. I never put us in a bad situation, but Dustin on the other hand? Yeah, he fucked us good. Any other person would have left him to his fate, but we were too close for me to ever consider leaving him. We were all we had in this world, so where he went, I went and vice versa. Which meant his fuck ups were my fuck ups.

It happened a few years ago, right as we were on the come up. The Vampire was becoming known worldwide for his unblemished record and vicious fight style. Still, we weren’t getting the kind of life-changing purse we hoped for. He was on the undercard most nights, and none of the big boys were willing to put their main attractions on the line to help us punch through our glass ceiling. Then it happened.

We were approached by one fighter’s representative. He was ready to retire from the fight game and wanted one more victory so he could ride out in a blaze of glory. All Dustin had to do was last for a bit and then take the dive.

“Look good for us out there,” Tony Schmitt told him. “Make it last for about three minutes and you get five-hundred-thousand guaranteed.”

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