Page 141 of Sacrifice
* * *
JULIA
My knees buckle.My airway clenches as I watch the image on the screen. The announcers are shouting, bantering back and forth so quickly that I couldn’t make sense of it if I wanted to. But I don’t. I can’t. I can’t do anything but watch the man I love fight a battle not just for my daughter’s life, but maybe for his own.
I fall to my knees, the image on the television blurry through the tears. He’s struggling, I can see it. I can feel the panic through the screen. He’s working to hold Hunter in place. The sweat on his body catches the light from above the cage and I can see his muscles flexing, pulling, grasping to end the fight. Hunter is trying to roll, pulling at Crew’s arms to release but he manages to hold on.
“Hold on, baby! Hold on,” I cry out, my voice splintering through the tears. “Please. Hold on . . .”
* * *
CREW
I pullthe move in tight as everything starts to blur. The darkness is even heavier this time, the noises coming at me like I’m in a tunnel. I try to find Will’s voice, or Sal’s, but I can’t make it out. I can’t find anything to hold on to.
My entire body feels like it’s on fire. I want to let go. I need a reprieve from the pain.
Hunter’s starting to panic and I know that this is going to be the end for one of us. I’m either going to cinch this down and cut off his airway or he’s going to get away and pound me into the mat. If I let him up, I know I won’t be able to fight back.
My head starts to spin, my neck feeling I’ve been shot with a cannon. I, too, start to panic, my need to just sleep starting to overtake any other thoughts.
“Man up, little brother.”
“It’s going to take both of us to protect her.”
The crowd becomes clear. I feel Hunter’s body heavy on me. I feel his sweat drip off onto me, the smoothness of his gloves as they glance off my body.
I hear Will shouting at me to fight. I hear Sal telling me to remember what I need to do.
I grit my teeth and pull down on his neck as hard as I can, pulling his legs down and away from his body. He gurgles and I feel him swiping at me. I cinch down one final time with everything I have.
Pain sears every nerve in my body, causing me to yell out. I hear the crack that resonates through every fiber of my being rattle through my ears. The agony is unrelenting, but the black that follows it is welcome.
The darkness lures me with the promise of rest, a break from the fire. I know I have to hold on. I squeeze tighter, but the pressure I’m exerting isn’t as strong as it was.
I bite down and yank one. Final.
Time.
The last thing I feel is a tap on my shoulder and I float away into the darkness.
THE END
EPILOGUE
JULIA
Two years later
The grass is soft, still damp from the rain last night. The air is unseasonably warm, but the wind is very chilly. I smile as Ever races her way through the cemetery, heading for the stone in the back. She knows her way here like the back of her hand.
Michael babbles on my hip, laughing as a red bird dips in front of us and lands on a tree on the edge of the grass.
I approach the stone and smile. I don’t cry here anymore. I used to sit and pour my heart out, ask him why he left us. But I don’t do that anymore. It’s not that I have things figured out. It’s more that I’ve learned to have a little faith.
I look at Everleigh, pushing the slush off the bottom of the stone with her boot, telling her daddy stories about her recent adventures. She tells him a story about how we visited the pediatric oncology unit last week and delivered a bunch of games we collected in a fundraiser. The whole thing was her idea, a way to brighten the days of the kids in a precarious position she was in herself not long ago.
It’s been almost a year since she was declared in remission. Almost a year since my world became right and I’ve been able to breathe. I know we aren’t completely out of the woods and there is a chance of side effects later or of the cancer returning. But I’ve learned a few things in this process. To enjoy each and every day like it’s your last. That life throws you curveballs, that it brings people in and out of your life as it sees fit. You just have to go with it and find a way to move on.
