The Belgian Beast Page 6

  Chapter Six

  Nina

  It was all too easy to fall for Marc in a way I’d never fallen for anyone. When I married, I was a virgin and I’d only kissed one other boy in my life when I was a teenager. Marc and all he was barged into my life and broken down every wall, fence, and barrier I had, and there was no turning back from it. The man was an addiction in every single sense.

  “What do you think?” I asked Ayo who sat on my bed watching me try on every single dress I owned.

  Tonight, was Marc’s big fight in Antwerp and he’d given me two tickets when I’d seen him a few days ago. I didn’t think we had a definition of what we were, but whatever it was, it was nice. I went by the gym when I had a free moment, and Marc would come by wherever I was performing to take me home every night. We talked about anything and everything easily and I couldn’t get enough of his kisses.

  “C'est très sexy,” Ayo proclaimed as he stood and began to alter my dress a little bit.

  “Not too sexy, right?” I asked concerned as I peered into the mirror at the red dress I wore with my braids hanging down my back.

  “It’s perfect. I promise. It is sexy but not doing too much. You look beautiful and I know Marc will think so too,” Ayo honestly critiqued before he bumped me from in front of the mirror and began to check himself out. I rolled my eyes and picked up my purse from the bed.

  “So, when are you going to tell auntie and uncle about your new beau?” Ayo questioned.

  “How about never,” I shrugged. My parents already felt a certain way about me since my divorce and now I was fornicating with a white man. They might as well disown me now. Ayo laughed loudly at my response. “Plus, Marc and me? I don’t really know what we are.”

  “He’s your boyfriend, bitch,” Ayo pointed out matter-of-factly. “You spend every moment you can together and you’re constantly making out. You two are dating, simple as that. Next. Now, let’s get to this fight. I’m excited to meet your boo and check out sweaty men.”

  The second ticket I got could only ever go to Ayo. I wouldn’t take anyone else.

  * * *

  The Lotto Arena was packed from wall to wall with people eager to see the fights taking place that night. Ayo and I weaved past already drunk men and girls in bikinis pedaling beer and energy drinks. The aroma of waffles and fries wafted through the air as was typical for any event.

  “Is that him?” Ayo asked in awe as he stopped in his tracks. A large banner hung from the ceiling with a photo of a man adorning it. Tall, bald, shirtless, and covered in tattoos was Marc with his arms folded, a tough scowl, and confident smirk on his lips.

  HOME OF THE BELGIAN BEAST

  Butterflies fluttered in my stomach at just a banner of him and I hadn’t even seen him in person just yet. It was weird knowing this guy was possibly my boyfriend and according to Ayo it was definite.

  “Yeah, that’s Marc,” I gushed before Ayo was pulling me away in the direction of our section at the sound of an announcement coming from inside. It would be starting soon, and my hands were beginning to sweat with nervous excitement.

  We arrived at the door to our seating section where an attendant checked our tickets and insisted on escorting us to our seats. I understood the reason behind the escort as we arrived in the front row. I swallowed hard as we took our seats.

  “Holy shit!” Ayo’s hands were over his mouth as we looked around in awe of having the best seats in the house.

  A moment later, I was tapped on the shoulder and I glanced to see a wheelchair had pulled up next to my seat. It was Marc’s friend, and former fighter, Fabumi who gave me a huge grin.

  “It’s nice to see you again,” he greeted me over the loud music.

  “You too. Have you seen Marc?” I asked wondering how Marc was fairing before the big fight. He’d sent me an text when he arrived in Antwerp early this morning that he couldn’t wait to see me after.

  “Oui, I was just with him while he warmed up. This fight is a big deal with the TV cameras,” Fabumi expressed. I knew it meant a lot to Marc. He talked about it a lot as time led up to the day.

  “I’m excited for him,” I gushed in excitement.

  Suddenly, the lights went down and the crowd came alive. Everyone around was cheering at the top of their lungs. Before the announcer could even say much of anything the arena broke out into an arousing chant of, “Bel-gian Beast! Bel-gian Beast! Bel-gian Beast!”

  It was electric as the chant grew louder and more rousing. Everyone was on their feet and cheering at the top of their lungs; all for the one man who captured me in a way no one else could.

  “Good evening, Antwerp!” The announcer cheered.

  “Oh, my goodness, this is too exciting,” Ayo said in my ear. I nodded enthusiastically.

  Marc and I were both performers in very different areas. I was used to a room so silent one could hear a pin drop with occasional applause filling an opera hall or theater when prompted. Marc’s stage was very different with roars of applause and chants spontaneously filling a giant area.

  I bent to Fabumi who clapped along with everyone else and was filled with the thrilling excitement that flooded through everyone.

  “I see why he loves it so much,” I told him.

  “It’s addicting. Being in that cage and hearing that roar. It’s everything a fighter wants and needs,” Fabumi expressed.

  The night started with women fighters who were the fiercest competitors I’d ever seen. These women trained extremely hard for a night like this one and went into it with everything, ready to prove themselves. The crowd urged them on until one was victorious.

  As the men began, the violence was kicked into high gear. I understood the sport and that they were trained for this, but from the first sight of blood, my stomach turned queasy. It was hard to watch, and I turned away often. The sound of their fists connecting with flesh brought back memories I worked hard to lock away.

  “Are you okay?” Ayo asked as a fight ended with a fighter being carried out on a stretcher by paramedics and blood leaking from his face as they passed us by. I tried to swallow down the bile trying to force its way up my throat. I only nodded in response, afraid if I spoke, I’d vomit.

  “Here’s some water for her,” a voice said from behind us. Fabumi’s wife had arrived late, just after the women fought. She was a sweet girl, with almond tanned skin, and wild, dark cocoa curls. Her belly was like a round watermelon as she and Fabumi were expecting a baby in the coming weeks.

  “Thanks, Emmy,” Fabumi handed me a cup of water.

  I took a few sips which helped calm my stomach, but the dizziness I had still remained.

  “My first fights weren’t easy to watch either and it doesn’t help being so close,” Emmy noted as Ayo rubbed my shoulder.

  The arena seemed to take on a different atmosphere as the last fight of the night drew near. The music grew louder and the crowd more enthusiastic and eager for what was to come. As the octagon was cleared the announcer returned.

  “Are you ready for the Belgian Beast!” His voice rumbled throughout the entire area, my stomach tying in knots thinking about Marc being in that cage and fighting with the vigor the men before him fought with. “Get ready Belgium for your home champion, the undefeated Belgian Beast himself, Marc Vandenberghe versus the Bull of the U.S.A., Colin Smith!”

  The chants began again, the thumping of my heart pounding harder and faster with each chant of, “Bel-gian Beast!”

  Suddenly, the chorus turned into uncontrollable screams as Marc emerged with a spotlight on him. His stature alone commanded the room like nothing I’d ever witnessed. His pure power on display as he began to walk toward the caged octagon. He passed us; his eyes met mine for a brief second before he continued on his way with Jean following not far behind him.

  Fabumi, Emmy, and Ayo were all going completely nuts as Marc took to the octagon with power the prestige. I stood in complete silence, afraid of what the outcome would be for either side. I swallowed hard.r />
  “Allez Marc!” Fabumi shouted from his chair.

  My heart thumped so loudly in my ears it almost blocked out the ongoing and enthusiastic chants of everyone in the arena.

  Marc’s opponent came out to mostly boos from the crowd who were all there to see the country’s hero defend his championship and keep his undefeated title.

  At the sound of the bell, the opponent from the US took a swing Marc dodged easily. I followed Marc’s every move through the cage. He was like a skilled dancer as he moved in reaction to the other man locked in with him.

  They were all over one another so quick, I almost missed it. Marc had Colin to the ground and was laying into him. At the first splatter of blood, I lost the contents of my stomach into the cup. I couldn’t take it.

  I jolted to my feet and jogged toward the exit, and out into the nearly empty hall as everyone was inside glued to the fight. I stood against a wall and bent down to steady myself. Only a moment later, a hand was on my back rubbing it. It was Ayo. I wanted to support Marc, but it was too much to see him in that light, watching him beat the living shit out of a man. I’d seen it once before and I didn’t want to see it again.

  “And your winner is your champion, Marc Vandenberghe, the Belgian Beast!” The announcer cheered to the eruption of everyone. The vibrations of everyone shook the floor under our feet.

  “It’s over,” Ayo told me, and I nodded. I was glad it was over.

  * * *

  We all stood waiting for the man of the evening to make his appearance. When the fight ended, I was able to gather myself and return to my seat to watch Marc receive his belt. He beamed proudly at his accomplishments and he should be proud of how hard he worked to achieve it.

  The door to the locker room opened into the hall and Jean emerged first with a huge grin on his face before Marc followed him proudly. With his chest out, he stepped out the door with his belt over his shoulder.

  Fabumi was first to congratulate him with Emmy before he stepped to me. I felt everyone’s eyes on us as he approached me and slipped an arm around my waist. In his arms, I had this safety net that calmed everything down around me and locked me into him.

  “Ma petite danseuse,” he muttered down to me as he pulled me in close.

  I inhaled his freshly showered scent.

  “I’m happy you came.”

  “I’m happy you won,” I noted before Ayo cleared his throat clearly craving some attention from the star of the night. I shook my head before I turned toward my cousin who was eager to meet Marc. “Marc, meet my cousin, Ayo.”

  “Enchanté.” Marc said as he extended his free hand to Ayo who shook it. “I don’t know about everybody else but I’m starving. Jean made us reservations at the Spanish place around the corner. Sound good?”

  “Perfect,” I said up to Marc who refused to let me go.

  As we started toward the exit, Marc and I ended up toward the back of the pack. Fabumi lead the way with Jean as Emmy and Ayo enthusiastically chatted. Taking a moment, Marc took a pause and bent to me, he kissed me gently but as I’d learned with Marc, gentle never lasted long. His lips claimed mine fiercely, before my body was pressed into a wall out of the sight of everyone else. We were alone for a moment and captured in one another.

  “I heard you got sick?” Marc questioned as he pulled away.

  I nodded, partly ashamed I couldn’t stomach sitting through the fight.

  “You don’t have to come to my fights. I understand it is not for everyone to watch. It’s fucking intense,” Marc noted to my enthusiastic nodding on response.

  “A little much for me.”

  “It’s okay.” Marc bent, kissing me again, taking my breath away.

  “What are we?” I blurted out as soon as he pulled away. “Do you see me as your girlfriend?”

  “Fuck yes. I wouldn’t see it any other way.” He leaned over me and cupped my cheek stroking it with his thumb. It resolved and complicated things in a way. He wasn’t exactly who my family would ever see me with, and I vowed to myself to keep us a secret when it came to them.

  “That clears things up, I suppose,” I joked as I stood expertly on the tips of my toes and pressed my lips to his.

  I allowed him to press his body onto mine as I absorbed his body heat. With a hand on the wall, his other one pulled my up my leg around his waist while his lips travelled down to my neck and rained kisses over my collarbone. I caught myself moaning at the stimulating kisses. We’d never gone further than kisses, and as much as I wanted more, I was afraid of the can of worms it could open. There was no going back for me once I gifted my body to him.

  “Where’d they go?” Fabumi’s voice echoed from around the corner.

  “Où êtes vous?” Ayo called for us.

  Playfully, I pressed my hand against Marc’s chest and slipped from under him before I began to stroll in the direction of the others.

  “Where are you going?” Marc stood back, having not taken a step, his arms crossed over his chest, his hard-worked muscles bulging.

  “I’m going to eat. Are you coming?” I smirked back in his direction only to pull a smile from him.

  He dashed in my direction and pulled me into his arms from behind. I squealed loudly as he pressed his lips to my neck and pulled me in tight.

  “Found them,” Ayo pointed out as he came around the corner with a sly look on his face. “Come on love birds, we want to eat.”

  Love, what exactly did that feel like? Was it the butterflies I had whenever Marc looked my way, the sense of security I felt when he was near, or the overwhelming emotions that filled my entire body just from just the thought of him? Could it be all of that wrapped into one complicated and vast emotion? I was eager and afraid to eventually find out.

  * * *

  “Thank you for coming,” Marc murmured down to me as we stood at my front door. He stood over me with an arm around me and the butterflies in my stomach dancing away as usual. “I’m sorry it was a little much for you.”

  “It’s okay. I’m glad I could support you,” I told him as I shivered in the cold. “Do you want to come inside? Its cold.”

  “Yeah, let’s get in.”

  I unlocked my door and Marc followed me in as he usually did when he came home with me on some of the evenings he traveled home with me from my performances. Entering my apartment, I was quick to kick off the heels I’d been in all night. Marc dropped his bag near the door and settled on the couch.

  “Venez ici,” Marc beckoned me over with a finger.

  I obliged.

  His arms pulled me into his lap and I naturally cuddled into his arms.

  Everything with Marc felt natural from the flutter in my tummy to his arms holding me close. I relished in how natural it felt to be with him. I’d never felt safer or more cared for. Marc shared this level of dedication to me I’d never felt with anyone. I’d never had anything like it before and I craved moments like this, but they also scared me so intensely that my heart thumped with anxiety. Behind it all, I had a fear of it disappearing on me and turning into smoke.

  “How old were you when you got married?” Marc twirled the end of one of my braids between his fingers.

  “Twenty-one. I’d just been offered my first job dancing and I turned it down. I regretted that moment every single day. I spent three years trapped and afraid of what could happen if I finally decided to leave. I found out when enough was enough. When I lost my baby...” My voice trailed off and Marc quickly wiped away the tears that were falling from my eyes.

  At the time I was already living in a nightmare. Every single day I never knew the man that would step into my front door. Would he be caring or a living nightmare?

  He’d finally managed to get me pregnant after nearly three years of telling me that something must be wrong with me and that I was broken. That pregnancy didn’t last long. I’d said something out of turn one evening and he as usual made sure I paid for it, but that night was the worst beating I’d received including being shoved
down a flight of stairs in his drunken rage.

  “I swear monsters like that shouldn’t be allowed to walk this earth. I’m glad you got out before you could have children and before those children could watch the horrors he unleashed on you. Having been a witness, I can tell you the scars last forever. I hear my father’s voice every single time I fight. It fuels me in a strange way,” Marc expressed as he continued to play around with my braids.

  “It’s the same for me but I try to not hear my ex-husband’s voice. Just the thought of his voice makes my skin crawl and I can’t breathe. It was so hard coming out of that. I’m grateful for the medications my doctor provided me with to help my worsened depression and tipping anxiety.” I looked into Marc’s eyes as they watched me, blue and piercing.

  Not wanting to talk about it anymore, I puckered my lips and kissed him. I caught myself smiling with my mouth still against his. I pulled away but stared at him for another moment.

  “Its like you came out of nowhere and fell easily into my life,” I was still astonished at our story.

  Marc kissed me gently before he pulled away this time.

  “Nothing is chance,” Marc whispered his lips brushing over mine. “There’s always a purpose.”

  Chapter Seven

  Marc

  With my lips to her shoulder, I rained kisses across her bare skin in hopes of waking her up. Slowly Nina began to stir from her peaceful slumber. We’d gone to bed as the sun began to rise after spending a couple of hours just talking, and kissing. Nina held this purity about her that I respected and even though we slept in the same bed, it was only sleeping and nothing more. Going any further would be up to Nina as much as I ached to pin her under me and make sweet love to her.

  “Bonjour,” she whispered through her sleepy haze before I captured her plump lips with my own.