The Belgian Beast Page 5

  I gaped at the woman who refused to leave even the smallest fucking crevices of my mind. She’d left me with so many questions and I tried to accept the cards dealt but every single morning I woke up to her face and I fell asleep to the sound of her quiet voice. All of it led me here to the ballet and watching Nina perform at what she did best.

  The entire performance was more moving than I expected, and Nina was the star of it all. She captivated the audience with everything about her. She put everything into what she did, and it was obvious from her first moment on stage to the last.

  When the show ended, I was the first on my feet applauding loudly as the dancers took their final bow. I spotted Nina’s eyes on me before the curtain dropped and she was taken from my sight. Damn, I’d never been in awe until that moment.

  “Delightful performance,” a fellow patron commented as we spilled out into the square in front of the grandiose building with its large columns. I’d passed La Monnaie many times in my life, but I’d never had the opportunity, nor desire, to go inside until tonight.

  Loitering, I watched as the others scattered, heading toward public transportation, taking taxis, or heading into cafes for an after-show drink. I slowly trekked through the quickly thinning crowd to the door I’d greeted Nina at as she arrived.

  Members of the orchestra were exiting, their instruments in tow, all chatting with one another after their contribution to the night’s performance. Following the others a few girls I recognized as some of the dancers began to exit before the one I wanted emerged, chatting with another woman before her eyes landed on me. She almost seemed to take a pause.

  “I’ll see you at rehearsal,” Nina noted in excellent English to the women who responded the same in a thick Russian accent.

  Nina hugged her arms around her body as she approached me. She was clearly nervous with jittering limbs and biting her bottom lip.

  I caught myself grinning down at her as she reached me. Nina short, but nowhere near as tall as me and I towered her thin yet noticeably curvy frame. It was something I noticed right away seeing all the dancers together on the stage, most of the girls were rail thin without any curves, but Nina was different with a clearly defined shape.

  “You were fantastic. You didn’t tell me you were the lead,” I resounded gleefully.

  Nina was the show and captured every part of the stage with the story surrounding her graceful character.

  “Merci. I’m actually the understudy for the prima but she fell ill,” Nina shrugged which to me undermined what she’d actually done. She was the lead, substituting or not. She owned every fucking centimeter of the stage.

  “You were amazing. I’m happy I finally got to see the ballet. It was much cooler than I expected it to be,” I complimented her, and she finally granted me that beautiful smile that had stayed with me since we first met.

  For a moment, we stood awkwardly as Nina balanced on her heels and I tried to find words. I was never lost on words, but I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. I’d already had her runaway from me once, I couldn’t have that shit happen again. When I told Fabumi what happened, he laughed at me for blowing it. I wouldn’t fucking blow it again.

  “J'ai faim. Es-tu?” My stomach grumbled and I swore I heard Nina’s growl too as it did that day at the gym.

  “Mmmhmm,” she answered with a shy nod.

  Inside of the shy girl that stood before me was a warrior. I’d seen it in her at the gym and more importantly I’d seen it in her eyes. Like me, Nina had obviously been through deep shit and somehow got to the other side. With that fact alone I knew she was a fighter.

  “I know a place not far. How do you feel about Greek food?” I put an arm around her shoulders.

  “Greek is good,” she answered sweetly before pausing. “But I’m not really dressed for a restaurant,” she noted as she peered down at her leggings.

  I simply shrugged as I began to lead us toward the Grand Place.

  “No worries, ma petite danseuse.” I winked down at her only to have her shake her head with a small smile on the corner of her lips as we continued forward.

  In the dim orange lights of Brussels, Nina and I strolled the old cobblestone roads together until we arrived in the world-famous Brussels Grand Place. City Hall stood before us, tall, looming, and illuminated in the darkness. A few tourists were still around snapping photos in the area that was once an old market square.

  It was strange to grow up in such a place and take it for granted. Once one took a moment to pause and enjoy the history around them, everything was so different.

  I continued to lead Nina along with me until we arrived at one of the restaurants with a lucky spot in the square. A little Greek place that my mom loved called El Greco.

  Opening the door, I allowed Nina inside the warmth of the restaurant that transported you from the drizzly European capital to the Mediterranean. The cozy atmosphere with traditional Greek music playing in the background easily set the scene.

  “Bonsoir,” a tanned man with a big mustache proudly greeted us.

  “Bonsoir, une table pour deux s'il vous plait.” I requested a table for Nina and me.

  “Follow me,” he instructed as we weaved through the small place and to a small table set for two in the corner. Waiting for us was a small plate with meatballs and cubes of feta cheese, this was my favorite part when my mom would bring Sophie and myself as kids.

  Nina took the booth side of the table and I took the chair opposite her. She removed her coat and I caught myself gawking at her as she sat in her off the shoulder long sleeved purple shirt. The dim light of the place caught her clavicle in the perfect light, and I could already feel her collarbone under my lips as I kissed her perfect skin.

  A week of thoughts like that were draining on me. Nina was this fucking mystery that my body craved, as well as my mind and spirit. She held this allure that drew me in and made it hard for me to think.

  “I’ve never been here,” Nina commented as she looked around the crowded space.

  “My mom brought me and my sister here a lot when we were younger. It’s her favorite. She always says in another life she was Greek.” I laughed thinking of my mother who was the glue that held me in particular together. Sadly, it wasn’t enough for Sophie.

  “Speaking of your sister, whatever happened after those guys…?” Nina asked with pure concern after the events that took place the last time I saw her.

  “Paying them off got them off my sister’s back. I spoke to her. She of course thanked me through her tears and promised she’d never do it again, but that’s every time. Its like a script at this point.” I hated to shrug it off, but it was becoming all too fucking routine.

  My biggest fear was how my sister’s children would be affected by her bad decisions. She knew how our father affected us firsthand and she still followed suit.

  “I’m glad things are better, for now,” Nina provided a weak smile before we were approached by a waiter who took our orders before leaving the two of us once more. “You surprised me tonight.”

  I gave a small chuckle.

  “Well, you just disappeared on me last week. I wanted to see you again. Figured the best way to do that was to see you in your own element,” I confessed as she peered away bashfully.

  “Wow, you make me seem so special or something,” Nina appeared puzzled as the waiter delivered our drinks. Nina picked up her glass of wine and took a sip.

  I was the one who was puzzled. Nina was a fascinating woman. She had this story behind her warm chocolate eyes I wanted to know more about. There was also her incredible talent that blew me away. How did she not see how special she was?

  “But you are,” I countered easily.

  Nina only laughed before taking another sip of her drink.

  “I want to get to know you, if that’s okay.”

  “There’s not much to know,” she easily dismissed the notion she was someone to know better. I didn’t understand how she couldn’t see it. “I dance. I
t’s my whole life really.”

  “You dance to hide your pain. Its like me. I fight to hide my pain. We’re not much different,” I told her honestly before I sipped my beer. “My father used to beat the shit out of my mother while my sister and I watched. Some days he would beat me and Sophie too. Many nights we would starve because he gambled away the money to buy us food. My life was shit growing up until I found it in myself to stand up to my father. I asserted myself as the man of the house. He died a few years later and I couldn’t be happier he is off this earth. Is that terrible? Maybe, but those scars define me. I see you have some that define you too.”

  “I couldn’t understand it. When I met you, there was this honest connection I never had with anyone else. It is like you got me and I thought it was impossible for anyone to get me after everything,” she admitted.

  I swear even over the chatter of the others in the restaurant, the music, and the clatter of the kitchen, I could hear her heartbeat thumping loudly.

  “My family was and is loving. My parents and brother were refugees from Mali. I was born here. I was the different one. They tried to connect with me, but we never were able to on a deeper level. Dance brought me this acceptance. I was able to have something that was uniquely mine and they didn’t and still don’t understand.”

  “I can get that. For me, my mother never understood how I escaped violence by submerging myself in violence,” I added thoughtfully.

  Nina gave a subtle nod she understood exactly where I was coming from. “Not feeling accepted by my family nor fully by my peers gave me this pulsating anxiety that followed me and sometimes it swallowed me into depression. My parents acted as if I was making it up or being lazy, but I couldn’t fight hard enough on those days. Their solution was I should get married. They thought being a devoted wife and possibly a mother one day would give me that purpose.

  “Except I never found a purpose and it only made everything worse. I married the son of a family friend. His first act was to make me give up dance. He told me no self-respecting woman would show her body off the way dance did and no man who called himself a man would allow his wife to do it. He controlled every move I made from sunup to sundown. I wasn’t just a prisoner to my depression, but his prisoner and the nights where he would call me names and beat me were the worst. I resorted to the only thing I knew to help deal with the pain.” Nina pulled up her sleeve and there were those scars I’d seen and touched before she ran away from me.

  “You cut yourself,” I stated, my voice low, my hand reaching out to graze the scars over her wrist. “My sister used to do it. She might still do it. I discovered her one night when she was only about ten with a razor blade from my shaving kit.” I shook my head as I was transported back to that night seeing my sister so vulnerable and desperate to strip the pain away she hurt herself to do it.

  “It was all I had,” Nina’s voice became small and shame filled her words.

  “Don’t be ashamed,” I laced my fingers through hers and held her hand tightly in mine. “There’s no shame in dealing with pain.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered as she took her other hand and quickly wiped away a fallen tear.

  “You obviously still aren’t married to him,” I noted as she didn’t wear a ring and she was dancing proudly.

  She smiled and shook her head. “It took a lot to say enough was enough. It was the hardest decision because I knew my family would never look at me the same way. Getting a divorce isn’t something we do. I come from an incredibly devout Muslim family. I wouldn’t ever live down a divorce. My single act would ruin the friendship my parents held dear with his parents and I would have this mark upon me, but I did it for me. I’m proud of it even though it took a long time for my parents to really come to terms with it.”

  I could never imagine being held to a particular standard. That took guts of steel for Nina to do and I found myself in even more awe of her. Only her eyes showed that this woman was stronger than most muscle building fighters I knew.

  “And you doubt how fucking special you are?” I questioned Nina who seemed to take my words to heart.

  She sat back in her seat with a thoughtful look on her face.

  My eyes roamed her visage. Her almond eyes, dimpled cheeks, and stout lips. She was sensual without trying and I was drawn to that.

  “Enough about me, really,” she waved her hand as if she was finished with the topic and ready to move onto something else. “You have so many belts, medals, everything. Is it true you’re undefeated?”

  Unlike Nina, I didn’t mind being the center of attention every now and then. I’d worked hard as fuck to make myself into the icon I’d become, and I worked even harder to keep my reputation of being a stone-cold force to be reckoned with in the octagon.

  Puffing out my chest, I smirked in her direction before taking a swig of my beer, leaving her in suspense at my answer.

  “So, we’re being coy, are we?” Nina playfully shot.

  That little bit I saw in her that was joyful and fun loving was coming out and made her unique personality even more attractive. Behind it all she was just as human and broken as me, but she was able in small moments to find the laughter.

  “Of course, I’m undefeated. Nobody has taken on the beast and won since I was fifteen. Not even my own fucking father could take me down once I found the fighter in me,” I noted proudly.

  “Seems like a lot of pressure to keep living up to that standard.” She hit the nail on the head. Any fight could be the one I lost my winning streak. I fought for me and for my family. I made a name for myself and people from all over the world came to see me fight in case they were the ones to witness my downfall. I had an audience waiting for me to fail.

  “It is but I take it day by day,” I answered truthfully. I didn’t spend much time dwelling on the possibility, but I spent my time making myself into the best I knew I could be. One day my best might be losing a fight, but that day hadn't come yet.

  With our food arriving, Nina and I settled into lighter conversation. She told me about how her parents came over fleeing civil war in Mali and later more of her family followed. I told her about my upcoming fight in Antwerp and how I was fighting an opponent from the States and the fight was one of the few which would be televised.

  “That was really good,” Nina expressed as our plates were cleared away.

  “You honestly can’t go wrong with this place. This was my mom’s little escape. She would scrape up some money when she could and bring me and my sister. We’d have to share a dish because she couldn’t afford for all three of us to order something different but it didn’t matter, we had each other,” I explained as I thought back to those days when everything was dark, but when mom would take us out, we got a sneak peek at the light.

  “Yeah, my parents struggled for a few years. I remember being made fun of in school for my hand me down clothes that were sometimes ill-fitting, but eventually Dad picked up better routes and even took on an occasional second job. We were able to get out of poverty and have a little something. Now my parents are comfortable. Dad still drives the taxi but Mom has stopped cleaning houses.” It always caught me off guard that Nina didn’t look like she’d been through so much, but she had.

  I handed the waiter some cash to pay our bill and rose from my seat. I grabbed Nina’s coat and helped her into it before she grabbed her bag. I’d loosened by bow tie by now and the links on my cuff. Dressing up wasn’t really my thing.

  We stepped outside where the crowds had thinned and only a few people hung around snapping a few photos and taking in the sights. Nina paused as we stood in front of City Hall together.

  “What are you thinking about?” I asked, sneaking my arm back around her shoulders.

  Nina peered up at me, biting her lip anxiously. My other hand cupped her cheek, her skin warm under my touch even in the cool air. I stroked her flesh with my thumb.

  “I’m thinking I had a nice time. Thanks a lot, for everything. I don’t normally
open up to anyone really. It’s never been easy. Nobody understands me,” she confessed.

  “I understand you,” I asserted as I continued stroking her cheek and she leaned into my touch and hummed softly, her lips looking more kissable with each moment, but I was scared to go in for the kill. “Nina?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Can I kiss you?” The words came out and I couldn’t take them back, but I didn’t want to. I’d wanted to kiss her since that first night walking her home.

  “Oui,” her voice was almost as quiet as a mouse.

  I didn’t take my chances for her to take it back. I dove in and claimed her lips as my own. They were just as perfect as I imagined they would be against mine. They were soft, welcoming, and warm. The arm I had on her shoulders before was now looped around her waist and she leaned into me deeper as I intensified our kiss.

  My tongue licked against her lips, causing them to part for me. Eagerly, I introduced my tongue into her mouth, finding hers as they fought this impassioned battle. Fuck, it was better than my dreams and I wasn’t going to let her disappear on me again. I had to have Nina in my life one way or another and I’d prefer her this way—in my arms, mine.

  Pulling away, I glanced down at her, she fought to catch her breath after our kiss before she peered up, her eyes meeting mine and a smile coming to her lips as we both noticed her hands were fisting at my shirt for dear life.

  “Wow,” she breathed. “I have no words.”

  “Me either,” I confessed as I took her hand, our fingers laced together easily.

  We didn’t say anything else as we began toward Central Station, the place where we’d first met. I’d never had much affinity for the old train station before but now I saw it in a whole new light. It brought her into my life.