Chapter 32

• 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.