July 27, 2014
It's SDCC weekend!
I love how much my Twitter and Facebook feeds explode with fun and exciting
information about my favorite shows and movies. So many great pictures, quotes,
and rapid-fire reports to sink into and devour—a new trailer for what to expect
on the rest of Defiance, a teaser for
Arrow season three, reports about The Avengers: Age of Utron, and tons of
cosplay pictures, which I love to see.
And SDCC kind of
launches the countdown for Dragon Con in September. I've never had the opportunity
to attend, but I have so many online friends who go, I'm lucky enough to pretty
much experience the whole thing vicariously through them.
Tonight's post is
from, On the Bench, a short story set in an ultimate fighting / mixed martial
arts scene.
Here's the tagline:
Peyton Bice comes of age around the mixed marital arts
sporting events and her past comes calling in the form of her father's former
star fighter, now a leading trainer. Rookie Cliff Westfordson offers a shoulder
to lean on, but Peyton fears getting tangled up with the newest recruit on her
dad's roster.
And a snippety peek…
Cliff entered the darkened gym
and found Peyton slumped against the back wall, her knees drawn up to her chest
with her chin, her forehead resting on top. He had no idea where her thoughts
might be, no clue how she felt, but he wouldn't want to be alone after severely
injuring another fighter.
He quietly walked over and
settled down on the bench perpendicular to the wall. He reclined back with his
legs on either side of the cushioned seat. He angled his head toward her,
wondering if she might have fallen asleep. He wouldn't blame her. The emotional
toll from the last month could've finally caught up with her.
She lifted her head and gave him
a level stare.
He met her gaze head on.
"I'll listen, if and when you're ready to talk, Peyton." He glanced
away. "About anything." Even Roman 'the Dick' Capps.
She snorted. "You sure about
that?" She rolled up to her feet, the dim light casting a shadow over her
already blackened eye. "You might want to be careful about making promises
to a jealous bitch of a shrew."
Roman's words had cut deep, but
she didn't have to use Cliff as a target.
He straightened his head and
gazed up at the ceiling. "Only one person thinks you're a bitch, Peyton,
and he's not here."
She moved forward, glancing down.
"No, he's sitting vigil in the hospital, but you're playing shrink, trying
to get inside my head." She huffed out a harsh breath. "Trust me,
Cliff. You won't score any points by figuring me out. And it won't help you
move up on the roster."
He shook his head. "Right,
should have known you'd leap to a stupid conclusion." He crossed his arms
over his chest and closed his eyes, shutting her out.
He'd never get anything right
with her.
Peyton crossed the room and
exited.
Cliff stayed, running the fight
through his head again, knowing deep in his gut, Peyton hadn't inflicted all
the damage. Carmella had entered the cage favoring her right side and Peyton
always went for the left with a cross jab. He'd bet his contract someone else
had laid a beat down on Carmella before the fight.
But he'd never prove his hunch.
The door cracked open and Peyton
entered, crossing the floor with soft footfalls. She paused by the bench,
gazing steadily in his direction for several long moments. Cliff met her stare
but kept his mouth shut.
Peyton straddled him on the bench,
her butt resting atop his thighs. "Look, I appreciate the offer. I do." She shrugged. "But I'm sorry. I just can't."
She waited a beat. "Yet. I need to process everything."
Cliff studied her, wanting to
push and force the issue, but he nodded. "It's a standing kind of
deal." He'd honor her wish… for now.
Peyton won't wait
too long to open up, but she's got other things on her mind first.
That's it for this
week. Happy reading!
Skylin
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