I smile at the two muscle men leaving the gym. “Oh, I don’t know, I told Abbs I would catch a movie.”
“No, I’ve spoken to her. She’s keen to come to this show.”
“Oh,” I answer flatly. “Is Josh coming?” I scrunch my eyes shut as I say it, knowing how desperate I sound.
“No, the boys said he’s going to some kickboxing thing.” She lowers her voice so they can’t hear her. “If you come we might be able to get some info on him,” she whispers. I nod as her plan rolls around in my head. This is true-they are staying with him so maybe I can find out if he is seeing someone else.
“Do you think they know anything?”
“Who knows? Of course, they must. Brothers talk, don’t they?”
Three hours later I find myself at the Luna Park Convention Centre with Abbie, Bridget, Cameron and Will. We grab some drinks from the bar and head to our seats. As we are walking to our seats, I notice the crowd is all mostly male and a bit rough around the edges.
“Why did we come here again?” I frown at Bridget as we walk through the rows of numbered seating. “What are we seeing?” Bridget hunches her shoulders.
“Beats me. Cam, what are we seeing?” she asks.
“Josh is fighting tonight.” I stop dead in my tracks. Cameron and Will turn to face me.
“Fighting,” I repeat. “What, what do you mean?” I am shocked, this was not in the brochure.
“He is in a cage fight tonight.” Will starts to laugh at the distress on my face.
“Cage fight,” I repeat.
“Yeah,” Cameron nods.
“That’s crazy talk, you can’t be serious?” My eyes are bulging out of their sockets. Will laughs again.
“He’s done it before Natasha. Chill.”
“Josh,” I repeat. They nod. “Josh, Josh. Like our Josh.”
“Apparently he is pretty good. I haven’t seen him but Will has in America. He kicks ass.”
I put my hands up to my face and push on my cheeks. Oh my god, this isn’t happening.
“Are you mad?” I whisper. “I can’t watch Josh in a cage fight. What if he gets hurt?” Bridget looks from me to Abbie and starts to giggle.
“Since when has Josh been cage fighting?” she asks Will. “This is ridiculous.”
He shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe six months.”
“Why?” I ask.
“I don’t know. He likes it I suppose.” He smiles.
“What, he likes bashing the shit out of people?” I frown.
Cameron and Will laugh. “Yes, exactly.” They keep shuffling up the row to our seats while checking the numbers on the tickets.
I stand still. “I don’t think I can stay,” I whisper to Abbie. I feel like I am going to be sick.
She shakes her head. “Just stay for a bit and then I will come with you.”
“Ok, deal.” In quick succession I scull my drink and head to the bar for something stronger. I stand in line at the bar and take in my surroundings. There are massive screens around the perimeter and two bars fully stocked with all the trimmings. The crowd is eclectic from age eighteen and up. I notice more women seem to be lingering at the bar, probably escaping the brutality of this horrible place. I hear the crowd roar and my eyes are drawn to the big screen to see two men in capes walk into the fighting arena. They remove their capes, looking like body builders or something. Jeez. I look away from the screen suddenly panicked at what I am about to witness, and the crowd goes wild again. My eyes are once again drawn back to the screen, my heart racing. The two men touch fists and then start to push each other around, inciting the other to make the first move. One man is of European descent, maybe Italian or something, and the other is bald but very Anglo Saxon, maybe English, but it’s hard to tell. Shit, this is hard to watch, but I find I can’t look away. These men are huge and aggressive and they are fighting in a frigging cage in front of about 10, 000 people. Every now and then they get too rough and the umpire steps in. They do seem pretty evenly skilled. I see what Cam means, it is sort of kickboxing. Although every now and then they connect and wrestle to the ground. I find I’m holding my breath. They would have to be hurting each other. I can almost feel the hits myself. I wince as a punch connects. I can’t work it out, from what place deep inside does a person get the anger to get off on this shit? The adrenaline in their systems must be through the roof. How in the hell has Josh strayed so far from the man I knew? He does this, he does this for fun. I run my hands through my hair as this information sinks in. I honestly don’t know him anymore. I haven’t a frigging clue who in the hell he is. He isn’t the smart, witty, surfie guy I fell in love with. He’s morphed into a smoking, stripper–loving, cage–fighting bad boy. Who, unfortunately, I find totally fascinating and not to mention utterly gorgeous. There is definitely nothing left of my Josh though, my beautiful gentle Josh. The thought saddens me deep to my bones. I’m grieving for a man that no longer exists. A man who for reasons beyond my control I can no longer reach.
It is with a heavy heart and a clear mind that I buy the drinks and head back to our seats. Perhaps this is a good thing, the realisation of the current events. I suppose that in all honesty it is definitely better for both of us that we never hook up again. We are related after all. I just wish I didn’t have this visceral attraction to him, it’s becoming embarrassing, and damn hard to control. On my return I am surprised to see Abbie and Bridget standing and cheering with the boys. Oh no, they are getting into it, and Abbie is wolf whistling. They are going for Mr Italy and he seems to be coming out on top. A few more rounds and finally the ref steps in and announces Mr Italy the victor. The crowd goes wild. Abbie and Bridget are jumping up and down on their seats. They are so annoying. I am sitting, head down, playing on my phone. I could not be more distracted if I tried. After the fight is over there is a ten–minute break until the next one. Cam sits back with his arm over the backs of the chairs. The others are all standing.
“Tash, are you ok?” he smiles behind everyone’s legs. I nod. Though at the moment I really don’t think I am. The dam in my throat is threatening to burst. It’s all too much-how much more can I take? He holds out his hand to me and I grab it. He squeezes it in a reassuring gesture.
“He will be ok,” he whispers, and my eyes widen at him. Does he know? As if he can read my thoughts he nods his head.
“Yes I know,” he answers.