A Hundred Fires

Angel Marquez Cienfuegos…in Spanish, his last name means A Hundred Fires, and Angel is as fiery as they come. A hero in his home country of Cuba, he’s used to getting what he wants…and what he wants is his former lover, Cristiano. Still torn up over the loss of his lover now happily involved with hockey player, Alex Hunter, Angel’s career is on the rise, but the Cuban government is playing havoc with his family life. Desperate to get his dying mother to the US so he can take care of her, the Cuban government won’t allow her to leave the country. Angel is being punished for fleeing his country and turning pro—pro sports are illegal in Cuba. Determined to win back Cristiano and bring his mother to him, everything changes when he meets Alex’s bad boy hockey champion buddy, Derik Grasser. The hard-scrabble boxer and rich hockey player make their own fire—on and off the ice in this sequel to Fire and Ice.

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A Hundred Fires By A.J. Llewellyn and Stephani Hecht

Dedication AJ would like to dedicate this to his friend, J.C. whose story inspired this one. Stephani to Cody. You are my rock! I am so damn proud of you.

Chapter One

M

iguel Angel Marquez looked out of the window of the crummy car that had picked him up early in the morning at his Hollywood apartment and driven him south. Miguel Angel, who went by Angel, had gone way south, past San Diego, across the border into Mexico. They’d cleared the mammoth twenty-four lanes of traffic crawling into the tiny border town of Tijuana. He’d watched as traffic flowed into Mexico, but ground to a halt leaving it. It was so much easier getting in than out of Mexico. The idea that he may not get back into the US suddenly added to his already mounting anxiety. Chill, Angel. He couldn’t. They were still on the road, nine hours later. Angel had given up asking the driver what the fuck was going on. By late afternoon, he knew the driver was jerking him around and as a result, Angel was in real danger of being late for his own weigh-in. What started as a three-hour drive had turned into 1

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht one colossal mind-fuck. Shit! This lunatic is driving me around in circles! “No, no!” the driver insisted. “Si, si. Yes, yes!” Angel shouted back. He glimpsed some of the oddities outside and he almost laughed. This was so far from what he had experienced growing up in Cuba and anything he’d experienced since he had defected to Los Angeles. Angel found himself entranced by the jumble of stores. Any one store could give you a haircut, dental surgery, prescription pills without a prescription, tattoos, Cuban cigars or, you could have your photo taken with one of the poor, unfortunate donkeys painted like zebras. Oh, and you could rent a pretty hot looking hooker or two as well. He got hot under the collar again. Not that it was hard. Nine hours. He was so agitated, he cursed his opponent Ruben Gonzalez who had obviously orchestrated all of this. The driver was part of his promoter’s company. Nothing had gone right since the morning his flight mysteriously canceled and to make the weigh-in, he’d agreed to be driven across the US border. Angel had lost a whole day. That’s what I get for stepping into a fight at the last minute. Playing games was an old ruse, but dammit, it 2

A Hundred Fires still worked. Keep the opponent off guard, keep him moving so he can’t rest, can’t psych himself up for the big moment. Cienfuegos…that was Angel’s real last name. In Spanish, his last name meant A Hundred Fires and boy, he was hot enough to light dozens. “I’m getting out,” he said to the driver in Spanish. “We’ve passed this corner a hundred times already.” “No, no. All the corners in Tijuana look the same.” “Yeah, maybe. But not all the hookers. There could be only one transvestite in a lime green bikini standing next to a chick in white hot pants and fresh C-section scars.” The driver balked. He glanced at his watch. Angel Marquez used his fists for a living. He was seconds away from punching this guy in the face. “I know you’ve had instructions to keep me on the road, to keep driving around. If you want to stay alive, if you do not want to piss blood for the next week, take me to the hotel right now.” The driver’s brows went up, down, up…he looked so panicked, Angel thought his thick, bushy brows might run right off his face and into the street. “I take you,” the driver muttered. “Thank you.” 3

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht Angel leaned back. I am all alone. I am so tired of this bullshit. He thought of Cristiano, the man he really loved. How nice it would be here to sit with him, to hold his hand. No…don’t think about him. He’s with somebody else now. His eyes opened as they pulled up outside a total dump off Revolution Avenue. “I give up. What is this?” Angel asked looking at the square white block that had razor and barbed wire unspooled in puffy silver clouds around its roof, chicken wire over the windows and a padlocked front door. The driver had the grace to look embarrassed when he said, “Your hotel.” From next door at the sombrero and cheap electrical goods store, a toothsome guy approached the car. “Special today! Everything one hundred percent off!” He didn’t seem to be able to close his mouth properly. Angel glanced a floor above the sombreros dangling in the breeze. It was a cut-rate dentist’s office. The poor guy looked like he was wearing horse dentures. Angel had a soft heart. He would have given the guy some money, just to get some better teeth, but he had problems of his own. He’d had just about enough of the mind games. He pulled out his cell phone and called his manager, Willie, who had just jetted into Tijuana. 4

A Hundred Fires “Ola, Angel.” He pronounced it Ahn-hell the way it was pronounced in Spanish-speaking countries. “Wait until you see the hotel,” Angel said without preamble. “Where you at?” Willie asked. “You had a nap yet?” “A nap?” Angel screamed. “This guy drove me around for nine hours. I just arrived. It’s a dump.” “Not a dump,” the driver protested weakly. “Is nice!” “Fuck you!” Angel screamed. The driver slunk back in his seat. “Lemme talk to him,” Willie said. Angel passed the phone across the front seat and the driver took it. “Si?” The driver listened in silence for a beat and threw the phone over his shoulder back at Angel. A few seconds later, they arrived back on a street called Agua Caliente. Hot water, how apt! Angel bristled when he recognized the two towers he’d glimpsed all afternoon from a variety of angles. It was the host hotel, The Grand. You kept it just out of reach, so near and yet so far all day. Man! It’s a half hour drive from the border! I wanna kick your ass so bad. Right buddy…first I’ll beat up Ruben Gonzalez, then it’s your turn. Angel jumped out, thankful he’d kept his 5

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht overnight bag and suit bag with his brand new ring wear in it with him since the driver took off. For a moment, Angel stood in the doorway and peered inside. He wasn’t sure if it was a Grand Hotel, but it sure was a dark hotel. He stepped forward. He was worried he’d been duped yet again, but he was astonished to see Alex Hunter, the hockey player guy who’d stolen Cristiano from him. Well, not stole exactly, but snapped him up. Alex walked out of a door, eating a candy bar. Now, Angel really wanted to kill somebody. He hadn’t eaten more than lettuce and sips of water for a week to make weight. Here was this culo, this asshole, with the two things Angel wanted most in the world but couldn’t have, Cristiano and candy. “Hey,” Alex said. “Everybody’s waiting for you.” It was on the tip of Angel’s tongue to tell Alex to go fuck himself, but then Cristiano came out of the same door Alex had used. His face lit up at the sight of Angel. “I told them you’d be here.” He turned to Alex. “Baby, can you take Angel’s things to the dressing room? He’s going to have to check in with the ringside physician first.” “No!” Angel screamed. “I’m not letting these things out of my sight.” Cristiano’s face softened. “Did they give you a 6

A Hundred Fires hard time?” Angel nodded. I love you. I love you. I love you. “You can trust Alex. Right Alex?” Alex was looking at Angel funny. He knows I love Cristiano. Cristiano nudged his boyfriend. “Alex?” “Huh? Yeah. Oh yeah. No problem.” But Alex didn’t look happy. “Is this what you’re wearing for the weigh-in or is there anything you need from your bag?” Cristiano asked. Angel glanced down at his jeans and T-shirt. “I have what I need. Oh, wait. My ID, my papers.” He unzipped a pocket, took out his paper work and handed his things to Alex. “See you in a few minutes.” Cristiano’s gaze on Alex’s face was adoring. Angel felt sick. I found him first. I was the first man to be with him, the first man to make him come. Fuck, I was stupid to walk away from him. Alex went back through the door he’d just left and Cristiano tugged on Angel’s T-shirt, steering him the other way. In the ballroom that they passed, the boxing ring had been set up for the following night, but he could see four burly guys in black T-shirts marked Seguridad, security, in big white letters across their backs, setting up tightlypacked rows of seats. He already knew the fight was a sellout. He felt the thrill of the blood-hunt 7

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht start to tickle his balls and belly. Ruben Gonzalez would pay for this day. **** Derik looked through the grimy windows of the taxi as his driver slowly navigated the streets. He had his cell to his ear, but he was only half listening to the person on the other end. One smart ass sports reporter who so owed him right about now. “So what’s Tijuana like?” Val asked, her voice more static than clear. “Flat and dusty,” Derik grumbled as they narrowly missed a guy on a bike. “So, a lot like Ohio then?” she replied in that snarky tone of hers. “Tell me again why I let you talk me into this?” “Because if anyone needed a few days of fun and sex, it’s you,” Val replied in her usually cutthroat blunt way. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Derik asked as he shifted uncomfortably in the seat. Crap, who ever heard of a taxi without A/C? “You need to get a handle on your anger issues. Just this morning, ESPN ran another bit about you and your fists.” “So, you send me to watch a boxing match, in order for me to learn to restrain myself from 8

A Hundred Fires fighting? That’s twisted logic, even for you,” Derik countered, incredulous. “No, I encouraged you to meet up with the only other friends you have besides me so you can relax. Who knows, you may find you actually like it.” “I could have relaxed at home.” Derik numbly looked at a pair of hookers, working a corner. One wore a lime green bikini that was more string than anything else. “Hate to break it to you, bud, but sitting in your recliner and watching old game footage isn’t relaxing—it’s brooding,” Val drawled. He heard her sipping something and he knew it would be her usual after two o’clock martini. Not to be mistaken for the after lunch, after dinner and just because martinis. “I don’t brood. That’s for emo high school kids with too much time on their hands.” Val snorted her disagreement. “Be a good boy and have some fun for once. You’re getting so boring, I’m beginning to wonder why I hang out with you. At least Alex has raunchy sex stories to share with me. You don’t even give me that anymore.” Derik shook his head. If he knew anything about his friend, it was that Alex would never share the intimate details of his love life. “Maybe Cristiano will introduce you to his 9

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht buddy, Angel,” Val said, suddenly sounding way too excited. “I’ve seen the pictures of him. He’s sexy as sin.” Derik didn’t reward that comment with a response, although she did have a point. He’d seen plenty of pictures of the boxer, too, and Angel was damn good looking. With dark hair and eyes, he was the type of guy that Derik had always gone for. It didn’t hurt that the boxer had a body that just begged to be fucked, either. The cab pulled in front of a hotel, jerking Derik out of his musings. “I’m finally at the place, so I have to hang up.” “Okay, but if you hook up, you have to promise to call me with all the nasty details,” Val practically begged. “No way. The last time I did that, you posted them on your Facebook wall for the world to see.” He got out and paid the driver. “I didn’t use your name.” “You used Angry Goalie number thirty three. Given my reputation and the fact that thirty three is my jersey number, I don’t think it took anyone long to figure out who you were talking about.” “Hey, I did start using AG three-three, after a while,” she pointed out. “Only because you didn’t want to waste any more time typing the whole thing out. Don’t think you fooled me into believing that you did it out of 10

A Hundred Fires respect for my privacy.” Derik held back his laughter. The last thing he needed to do was encourage her. “Spoilsport. You are so not invited to my wedding.” “You’re getting married?” Last he heard, her last boyfriend had dumped her for the weather girl. “No, but it’s never too late to start crossing ungrateful jerks off the list.” “On that note, I’m hanging up. Bye.” “Bye, sweetie. I meant it, too. Have some fun for once. God knows you’ve earned it.” She made a kissy noise in the phone before she hung up. Derik closed his cell and put it in his pocket. He looked up at the hotel, which was alive with people and camera crews. How in the hell was he supposed to find Alex and Cristiano in all this mess? It didn’t help that the only Spanish Derik knew was from watching Dora the Explorer with his nieces, either. Unless all the conversations centered on his ability to count to ten, he was screwed. He shouldered his bag and slowly walked up the stairs, narrowly avoiding being mowed down by some sports announcer who looked vaguely familiar. Inside the lobby, it was even busier, the noise so loud one would have to shout to be heard. 11

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht This was supposed to be relaxing? Derik made a mental vow to never listen to Val’s advice again as he went off in search of Alex and Cristiano. **** Angel followed Alex into a side room where several skinny-looking guys were in various stages of being checked out prior to the weigh-in. He recognized the gray pallor on the faces and lips of some of the combatants. They dried themselves out trying to make weight. It really was one tough mother of a sport. “Where have you been?” one of the officials asked Angel who explained what happened. A lot of people in the room laughed. “What, you don’t know your way around Tijuana yet?” the official asked in Spanish. “No, sir,” Angel said, being polite. “I’m not from Mexico. I’m from Cuba.” “Right…right.” The official studied his sheet. “You brought the result of your eye exam and MRI?” “Yes.” Angel handed over the DVD and printed report in his grip. The official already had the results of Angel’s last blood test. All that remained was a blood-pressure check with the ringside physician, then he could get ready for the weigh12

A Hundred Fires in.

“What color shorts are you wearing for the fight?” the official asked. “Black.” The official frowned. “Plain black?” “Yes.” “That won’t work. This is a TV fight and Ruben Gonzalez is wearing black. The ESPN announcers need to be able to differentiate between you two for the TV audience.” Man, Gonzalez knew I was wearing black shorts. I always wear black shorts. This guy’s really screwing with me. I wonder how many of his teeth I can break in the first round? “Black with a white stripe,” Cristiano said quickly. “Oh, okay,” the official said, marking it down. Cristiano drew Angel aside. “You’ll have a white stripe even if I have to sew it on myself. You ready for the blood-pressure test?” Angel nodded. He didn’t speak. Torn between bashing some heads and sticking his tongue down Cristiano’s throat, he didn’t trust himself. He was a volatile man at the best of times. He tried to simmer down. Cristiano was doing a great job. He was trying so hard to smooth things over for him. They would have traveled down here together except that now that Cristiano had moved to Detroit with Alex, he’d made a special trip back 13

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht home to watch his lover play in a hockey match after spending a quick two weeks sparring with Angel in Los Angeles when he agreed to take the fight. He’d come here to be here for Angel. Just to be the third man in his corner. That meant he would, basically, be holding the spit bucket, water bottle and shouting encouragement between rounds. Angel sat in line waiting for the ringside physician who seemed bored. “You having any health problems?” “No, sir.” Yes, plenty. I get bad headaches, my right ear hurts, I have three sore ribs and a sore shoulder. “You been having any problems with headaches?” “No, sir.” “None?” “Occasionally.” “What do you take for them, because if it’s Aspirin I need to know in case you start bleeding in the ring.” “Tylenol,” Angel lied. He had to lie. If they knew he swallowed ibuprofen all day, they wouldn’t let him fight. The blinding headaches had gotten worse since the last fight. Thank God his last blood test was still valid. If he’d been forced to take one now, his blood would show thin. Thin blood was bad when you were a boxer. You could die from a bad cut that didn’t coagulate 14

A Hundred Fires properly. His plan had been to take this fight and use the fight insurance to see a local doctor. “Your blood pressure is a little high, but that’s normal. I hear you took the scenic route today.” The doctor was trying to be kind so Angel didn’t put him on his shit list. He waited his turn for weight, watching the other fighters take their turn at the scale. The room became more and more packed with reporters once it got closer to the main event—Angel’s bout. He weighed in first, him being the opponent. He was so mad at Willie and his trainer, Lenny Castillo. They still hadn’t arrived. Angel had a sneaking suspicion they’d been detoured, too. It was just him, Cristiano and Alex on the podium when he took to the scales after removing his running shoes. For a moment, it meant a lot to him that Alex was up there. Alex was a big name in hockey and hockey was like the Gold medalist of sports. Boxing was like the contender circling the parking lot. Boxing wasn’t even mentioned in the same breath as hockey. “One pound over,” the ringside physician announced. Loudly. “Impossible,” Angel said, his anger getting the better of him. He stepped off the scales as the ringside physician and an official re-calibrated them. 15

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht “Alex, go down and pretend to know what you’re doing. Somebody from our camp needs to be there,” Cristiano said, his voice low enough that Alex and Angel could hear him, but not the now-buzzing media. Angel knew they were enjoying the fact that the great Miguel Angel Marquez had failed to make weight. Alex hurried down and joined the huddle at the foot of the scales. In that moment, Angel loved Alex. He wasn’t a tough, successful hockey superstar for nothing. “Wait,” Alex said. “I want to check for myself that they’re even.” Cristiano used the extra minutes to massage Angel’s shoulders. “Relax,” he said, his voice soft. “We’re cool. It’s gonna be okay.” Angel felt the tension drop, the pain in his left shoulder excruciating, washing over him in waves. It hurt so good. Cristiano released so much tension in Angel, he felt it numbing his fingertips. Cristiano kept it up. He couldn’t have known that Angel’s broken shoulder, courtesy of defending Cristiano against his abusive stepfather was still a huge problem. He would need surgery after this fight he was certain, but for right now…Cristiano has his hands on me. Oh, man… 16

A Hundred Fires Once again, Alex was back on the stage after making a lot of noise on Angel’s behalf, and again, Angel was a pound over the one-hundred-andforty-seven-pound limit. “Take off your T-shirt and socks,” Alex instructed. Angel wouldn’t take any chances. He took off everything except his tiny black underpants. The few women in the crowd beamed their approval. Angel knew he had a massive cock, but he was into men, not women. He raised his arms, another old boxer’s trick. Fuck. Half a pound over. “Take off your underpants,” Cristiano said. “We need a towel,” he announced loudly to the official standing in front of them. A couple of guys held up a towel and Angel stripped completely. It didn’t help. He put on his underpants and jeans, really wanting to kill somebody now. The rules were that he had two hours to melt off the extra half pound. He needed the seventyfive thousand dollars from this fight. If he didn’t make weight, he would be allowed to fight, but his purse would be deducted twenty-percent and he would not be allowed to win Gonzalez’s crown if he was victorious. And it would look bad to everybody back home in Cuba. 17

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht I hid in the back of a fucking car to make my family proud. To get over the border from Mexico. Okay, the International Boxing Group is a small title, but it’s still a world championship. I’ll be on my way! He simply had to win this fight. Cristiano grabbed his hand. “Dressing room,” he yelled. The three men thundered down the dark corridor of the hotel. In the dressing room, Cristiano held the spit bucket between Angel’s legs as Angel sat on a chair and spat again and again into the bucket. “You need to pee?” Cristiano asked several times. “No.” Angel shook his head. He wished he did. They moved into the bathroom where Cristiano turned on the taps and Alex held the bucket, instructing him to spit. “This feels like child birth,” Angel gasped in English. “Then I should say push.” Alex grinned. “Come on, Angel. Spit!” God, this was real friendship, helping a guy losing his sanity over half a pound. “You’re doing great,” Alex said. “Think about how good it’s going to feel being world champion. Come on, spit. Come on. You can do it.” A knock at the bathroom door. “Go away,” Angel screamed, his last nerve 18

A Hundred Fires shredded. He could see liquid in the bucket now and he felt faint. “It’s me, Derik,” a voice said and in popped a friend of Alex’s. Angel stopped spitting, drool plopping from his bottom lip into the bucket. Even though he’d heard Derik’s name mentioned several times, Angel had never seen him before and it suddenly hit him what he’d been missing. With short brown hair that barely reached his collar and the softest pair of grey eyes, the man had a sensual appeal that instantly called to Angel. Fuck. What a way to meet the most handsome bastard who ever fucking lived. With my head in a bucket. Great. “I took you up on your offer. Boxing in Tijuana. Why not?” Derik said with a laugh as he came all the way on and shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I had nothing better to do than stay home and watch baseball.” Alex introduced them. Angel’s famished gaze took in the big, hulking hockey player. Not an ounce of body fat, just the way he liked his guys. Meaty and hot. “Derik Grasser, meet Miguel Angel Marquez, Olympic Gold medalist for Cuba and the next world boxing champion.” “Hey,” Derik said. 19

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht Angel didn’t want to make a fuss about the newcomer, but he felt weak and dizzy. He was certain someone screwed with the scales. “Angel,” Cristiano said with urgency. “You need to pee?” At last, Angel needed to pee. The running water had helped and the power of Cristiano’s suggestion was strong. He slipped into a cubicle and peed. “I can’t spit anymore,” he said. “That’s okay. I think we’ve done it,” Cristiano said. “Let’s run up and down the fire stairs,” Derik suggested. Angel agreed. He was beyond tired, but a champion never quit. He was sweating and half-dead when Alex and Cristiano dried him off with a towel. “You want iced water or Gatorade after making weight?” Cristiano asked. “You’re confident,” Angel said. “Of course I’m confident. I wanna be the guy who sparred the next world champion, remember?” Angel wanted to hug him. There was a time when Cristiano had been a serious, talented contender himself. “I want a juicy hamburger right after the 20

A Hundred Fires weigh-in,” Angel said, recovering his dignity and pride. “That sounds good,” Derik said. “I think you should put your T-shirt back on. Your opponent’s talking some serious shit about you. Let’s show him, huh?” “No.” Angel wanted to take no chances. He stripped to his underpants, surprised that the three men stood on stage with him as he took to the scales again. It was a wonderful show of solidarity. This time, he not only made weight, he was half a pound under the limit. Cristiano, Alex and Derik applauded loudly, others in the room following. There was an obligatory photo of Angel and Ruben Gonzalez required. The two men posed side by side, then nose to nose, their mutual hatred palpable. The large, bulbous-nosed president of the International Boxing Group, IBG for which Gonzalez was the reigning and defending champion, stood between them for another. Ruben was the local hero, the darling of Tijuana. He’d been the champion for two years, carefully picking marginal opponents. When he was forced to pick one of the top three opponents in his division, he’d selected another guy who wound up in jail on DUI charges. He then picked 21

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht the second guy who’d injured his arm in training, giving Angel the opportunity of a lifetime. Now that Angel had made weight, the buzz had died off a little. He decided to put it back by grabbing Ruben’s face, kissing him full on the lips. “You’re so pretty,” he said, humiliating the young stud, who went nuts. His own team was forced to pull him away. It was all for show, though. Ruben wasn’t Angel’s type and Angel wasn’t hitting on him. He was pretty much in the closet as far as that went. No, he was showing the fighter he had no respect for him. Angel let loose the manic laughter that had unnerved even the most seasoned opponent. He saw the fear in Ruben’s eyes for the first time. And there should be fear. This is a lonely, dangerous sport. He can have the love of his people, but in that ring, his ass is mine. Satisfied that he’d set the tone for uncertainty, for fear and panic in Ruben, Angel was ready for food. His legs wobbled with the rapid weight loss, the dehydration making him shaky. His starved mind focused on burgers. He wanted two doublecheese burgers and fries. Cristiano was the one who snapped the cap off a whopping big bottle of Gatorade and held it to Angel’s gasping lips. Derik wound up helping Angel back into his street clothes. Angel was certain he hadn’t 22

A Hundred Fires imagined it, but maybe he had. The back of Derik’s hand seemed to linger as he pulled Angel’s jeans back up over his cock and up to his hips. The two men’s eyes locked for a moment. “Thanks for your help,” Angel said. “Any time,” Derik responded, a slow smile spreading across his handsome face. Angel almost came on the spot.

23

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht

Chapter Two

W

illie Guzman, Angel’s manager, was an exboxer who looked like a giant bulldog and wore more bling than Donald Trump’s wife. He showed up after it was all over and broke the news that Lenny had been denied entry to Tijuana at the airport. Something about an old parking ticket. “A parking ticket?” “These people are clowns,” Willie said. “They don’t know who they’re dealing with.” On the whole, Angel thought he took the news pretty well. No trainer. For eighteen months, Lenny had been his man in the ring. What the fuck am I gonna do now? “I pulled some strings,” Willie said. “He’s gonna be here for the fight tomorrow. No problem.” Willie hadn’t let him down yet, so Angel reserved his rage for the ring. Willie was a 24

A Hundred Fires character. His most prized possessions were a pair of gold boxing gloves dangling from a thick chain around his neck and a massive gold watch. He blew his portion of Angel’s last purse by getting drunk on Dos Equis early one the morning on Las Vegas Boulevard. None of the team could believe that Willie had fallen for the oldest con in the book—some sob story from a Vegas grifter. It was no heirloom as the gravel-voiced seller had promised. It was gutter-ugly and ghetto fabulous. Only Angel and Willie’s three sons knew it was worthless garbage, but to Willie, it represented Angel’s victory and so he wore it with pride. Little boys who wanted to grow up to be prize fighters liked to touch Willie’s watch and more than a few round-card girls who strutted the square boxing ring between rounds had been magnetized by it, but Willie waited for some other poor schlub to make an offer on it. So far, none had. Willie managed, no matter which town Angel fought in, to find minivans that were large enough to hold Angel, Willie, Lenny, the trainer, Willie’s three sons, the three-piece Mariachi band he loved to travel with and in this instance, Cristiano Alex and Derik. When Willie discovered that Cristiano was gay and proud of it, he’d initially balked about having 25

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht him close to Angel’s camp, but Angel had insisted on it. Now Cristiano and Alex were family. Once Willie showed up at the Grand Hotel, he showed them the van and off they went to find hamburgers. Angel stared out the window at the long, flat land of Tijuana with its river in the distance. It felt strange and unfamiliar here, and yet, oddly, the streets were very clean. “It’s got a mixture of old and new, like any city,” Willie said. “Everybody want burgers?” The chorus of yeses sent Willie careening away from the city center toward the river. Angel was impressed with Willie Senior whose wife had left him to raise his kids when the youngest, Fernando, was two. Willie was a magnificent, if unusual, dad. They lived in the dirt-poor almost entirely Mexican immigrantpopulated, Mira Loma in the far east corner of Los Angeles before you jumped on the I-15 and headed east to Vegas. These weren’t disadvantaged kids. Willie also owned a massive mobile home they traveled in, around the state of California each summer. He chose river, mountain and desert locations to teach them about the natural world. He home schooled his sons who were bright and articulate. He cooked their meals, forbidding junk food and candy, all the things Angel loved. 26

A Hundred Fires Tonight’s hamburgers would be an exception. Willie’s three sons, who were all in their teens, were very close. Considered as affectionate oddities in the world of boxing, nobody could deny the kids’ politeness or their knowledge of the sport. There wasn’t a fight they hadn’t seen either on video or live. Alfonso, at nineteen, enrolled in college, the first of the Guzman boys to formally attend school. He also had some real boxing skills, but had fallen for his childhood sweetheart and impregnated her. She’d given birth to baby Willie, but left Alfonso with the infant. History seemed to repeat itself in the Guzman family. Last heard, the baby mama was in Rosarito Beach and Alfonso planned to take his son in search of her before the fight the next day. Seventeen-month-old Baby Willie sat in his car seat, the one that had traveled the entire US and a few South American countries. He was a very good kid. He rarely cried, laughed often and right now, he was teething. He chewed on a corner of Angel’s suit bag. His teething toys didn’t hold the same allure, apparently. Angel didn’t care. He had two daughters back in Cuba with his wife, Mariposa, and missed them dearly. Actually, he’d long since discovered they were not his biological kids, but he loved them all the same. He learned, only after he defected that 27

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht Mariposa had cheated on him. She was now openly living with the man who’d fathered both children, his own trainer back home. It had been a shocking revelation. Being Catholic, he had never sought to divorce her even though their whole relationship had been rocky. Although she had been the one to urge him to defect to the US, once he did, she told him she would never move there. She had been forced to reveal the truth because the trainer wanted to marry her. Angel agreed to a divorce until Mariposa realized she could get more money out of Angel once he began earning lucrative purses with each fight. She might have bungled badly by confessing their children weren’t his, but she held a very tender, juicy carrot over his head. For the price of monthly checks, she would take care of Angel’s mother…and Angel adored his mother. It still rankled to this very moment that he had been working like a dog and his wife and trainer, the two people he thought he could trust, deceived him. It was his secret sorrow. He found freedom and plenty of opportunities to indulge in his growing passion for men once he moved to Los Angeles. The flipside was that the Cuban government had forbidden him entry back into his country. He couldn’t see his daughters or his mother. It had been two years since he’d defected and seen his mom, though they spoke 28

A Hundred Fires daily. As for Mariposa, she had dumped the trainer for another man. She now had two new children with him. Angel still sent her money each month, but for Mariposa, it was never enough. “Here we are.” Willie pulled up outside a place on the corner of First Avenue with a homemade sign saying Burgers out front. It was typical of the kind of places Willie loved to frequent back home in Mira Loma. Formica-topped tables and seats that looked like church pews cut in half—turned out they were—pictures of religious icons and Mexican crooners covering the walls could have spelled disaster. They didn’t. Angel had never tasted such sublime burgers cooked to order. He usually supervised his own food preparation before a fight, but with Willie in control, he knew he was safe. Willie trooped into the kitchen with Baby Willie in his arms and a host of protein supplements he wanted to blend with juice and milk. “These are good,” Derik said with some surprise when the burgers arrived. They all fought over the French fries and Angel downed his fourth gallon of Gatorade. He was sharing his hotel room with Willie’s middle son Ernesto, who at 29

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht seventeen had his eye on a career in criminal justice. “You want to be a CSI guy?” Alex asked him. “No,” sweet-faced Ernesto replied. “I want to be a prison guard. Alfonso wants to work for the FBI.” Alfonso, who held Baby Willie as the child chugged on a disgusting-smelling concoction in a sippy cup, nodded. Something about Willie’s sons made you feel their quiet determination would get them wherever they wanted to go. “What’s in that milk bottle?” Derik asked. “I smell fish oil.” “Don’t ask,” Angel warned him. Big Willie reeled off a list of essential fatty acids blended in milk and six different fruit and vegetable juices. “Stop,” Derik said. “I’m getting a stomach ache listening to it.” “My kids have never been sick a day in their lives,” Willie said with pride, as the mariachi band began playing something that sounded like a dirge. “Play something happy,” Cristiano urged as his hand went under the table he shared with Alex, Derik and Angel. Angel had a pretty good idea where Cristiano’s hand was going. 30

A Hundred Fires They drove back toward the town center and Angel felt pretty good by the time they returned to The Grand. He sensed Derik’s disappointment when he declined going out to play pool. Fighters did nothing the night before a fight except eat and sleep. In his room, he showered and changed into pajamas as Ernesto worked feverishly on his laptop at the small table by the window. They each had a huge bed and Angel knew he would sleep regardless of how many lights were on in the room. The room phone rang. He was surprised Willie had forgotten to remove it. Ernesto took charge. He didn’t look pleased when he heard Derik’s voice. Angel on the other hand, was pleased. Very pleased. “I really don’t know much about boxing,” Derik said. “I’m sorry I got grumpy when you said you couldn’t hang out. I wanted a chance to talk to you. Cristiano just explained things to me. Our sports are so different. Hockey’s a different mindset.” Derik took a breath. “Don’t worry,” Angel said. Derik plunged ahead. “Cristiano said you would need a walk in the morning, shake yourself loose a bit. I’d like to walk with you, if that’s 31

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht okay?” “Derik, I’d love that.” They planned to meet in the lobby at eight. Angel went to sleep with a smile on his face and for the first time in months, didn’t dream of Cristiano. **** “So, what made you finally decide to come?” Alex asked, as he lined up his cue and took his shot. Derik shrugged as he took a drink of beer. Swallowing, he gave a short, “Val.” “Ah,” Alex nodded, knowingly, “I should have siced her on you in the first place. Then you could have just taken the same flight we did and saved all the drama.” “What drama?” Derik pulled a face. Alex rolled his eyes. “Fuck, Derik, it’s like pulling teeth to get you to leave the house anymore. The only time you do is for hockey or to go trolling at the bar.” Derik drained the last of his beer and looked around for the waitress. “I think we should get a round of tequila or something.” “I’ll go get it,” Cristiano said with a sigh as he got up from the stool he’d been sitting on. “You’ve got to stop this,” Alex said, his eyes growing serious. 32

A Hundred Fires “What? It’s just one beer and a shot of tequila,” Derik replied with an innocence he knew Alex would never buy. “Damn it, Derik.” Alex set his cue down on the table and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Yet, you accused me of being the one with all the drama.” Derik looked around, anxious, wishing Cristiano would hurry up with the shots. “When’s the last time you dated a guy? I don’t mean a one-night hook up, but an honest date?” “Are we really going to have this conversation?” Derik cracked a smile he so didn’t feel at the moment. “What’s next? We sit around and knit sweaters while we talk about soap operas?” “Just shut the fuck up and answer my question,” Alex snapped. “I’m good, Alex, but not even I can shut up and talk at the same time.” Alex just turned and glared at him. A lot of other guys might have gotten into Derik’s face and yelled and shoved him around. In fact, that kind of aggression Derik could deal with, hell, there were days he thrived on it, but one thing he couldn’t stand was to get that look from Alex. While Derik didn’t mind pissing off the rest of the world, his friendship with Alex meant too much for him to fuck it up. “What do you want from me?” Derik 33

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht demanded as he braced his palms against the edge of the pool table and lowered his head. Looking at the grimy floor rated much higher on the desirable list than meeting Alex’s probing gaze at that moment. “You haven’t moved on from Eric,” Alex said, softly. At the mention of Eric, Derik’s gut grew heavy with guilt and anger. “Of course I have. He’s been dead for years now. Besides, I got over him the day he dumped me for you,” he lied. “Do you remember that one time you told me that I needed to stop blaming myself for the choices Eric made and move on? How it was his fault for abusing drugs and ruining his life and I needed to stop taking the blame for that?” “Of course I do,” Derik bit out, still refusing to look up. “Then why in hell can’t you take your own advice?” “Because it’s different.” He closed his eyes and prayed to everything holy that Alex would just let it drop. Shit, Derik didn’t want to dredge all this up. Because plain and simple, it still hurt so fucking bad. “How?” Alex persisted. Derik’s grief and rage finally made him blurt out the damning secret he’d kept close to his gut all these years. “Because I talked to him that night 34

A Hundred Fires he killed himself. I begged him…” Derik took a deep breath and blinked hard several times. “I begged him to get help for us. That I’d care for him and help him get healthy. You want to know what he did?” “What?” Alex asked, his voice sounding a little strained. “He laughed and kicked me out of his house. That was one hour before he killed himself.” He finally glanced up. Alex’s face was devoid of any color, his eyes suspiciously wet looking. “I know where you’re going with this and you’re wrong.” Alex shook his head. “How can I be? The facts are there all laid out on display. I offered to take Eric back. Instead, he chose death over me. So you’ll have to excuse me if I never want to put myself in that position again. Because I won’t survive going through that kind of pain a second time.” The next morning, Derik almost chickened out on going to meet Angel. It was only after reminding himself how excited Angel had sounded the previous night on the phone that he was able to force himself to get up and go downstairs. Alex and Cristiano were already downstairs, both of them dressed in their workout clothes. When he didn’t immediately see Angel, Derik 35

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht shocked himself by feeling a tinge of disappointment. “Angel said he’d be down in a minute,” Cristiano explained even though Derik hadn’t said anything. Derik shot a sideways glance over at Alex, as the memory of his one-man pity fest from the previous night plagued him. Alex gave him a small grin, but that was all Derik needed to know that things were still good between them. Derik let out a sigh of relief and suddenly felt lighter. Angel came walking over and Derik sucked in a breath at the sight of the sexy boxer. He wore a tight blue T-shirt that clung to his muscles and a pair of shorts that showed off his strong legs. Angel waved and Derik quickly returned the gesture, his gaze still drinking in the man. Derik shifted nervously, hoping the bulge in his pants wasn’t so obvious, it was shouting its own good morning greeting. He noticed Alex smirking at him and Derik barely restrained himself from flipping off his friend. Okay, Derik couldn’t deny it any longer. He wanted Angel in the worst way. But fucking somebody and actually having a relationship with them were two completely different things. He noticed Angel’s expression appeared tight, his posture rigid. Derik didn’t take it to heart, though. As an athlete himself, he knew all about 36

A Hundred Fires pre-game jitters. Derik had always had a team to share the tension with, even as a goalie. He couldn’t imagine having to go through it alone, like Angel was. Angel still had a warm smile for him. “Good morning,” he said, his voice tinged with that accent that always made Derik hard. “It is now.” Derik inwardly cringed at the cheesy comeback. Way to go, slick. Why don’t you add a do-you-come-here-often to make it even more creepy? Angel didn’t seem to mind, though, his grin growing wider as his body seemed to relax some. “You running this morning?” Alex asked. When they visited each other, they often did their morning job together, often taking Cristiano with them. Derik gazed up at Angel. At that moment, nothing could have made him leave the man’s side. “You go ahead without me.” Alex didn’t seem too surprised. **** Cristiano and Alex ran ahead of them, Derik walking beside him. He never trained much the morning of a fight. You couldn’t leave all your aggression out of the ring. You had to be warmed up, not spent. 37

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht “Tell me a little about yourself?” Angel urged. He wanted to know everything about Derik. Derik shrugged, a slight breeze ruffling his brown hair slightly. “Not much to tell. I grew up in Minnesota. Had a pretty normal childhood.” “How long have you been playing hockey?” “For as long as I can remember. It was expensive, but my dad worked two jobs to pay for it. It still wasn’t easy. We lived in a crappy single wide trailer and he always drove cars that were two coughs from dying out.” “What about your mother?” Derik looked in the other direction for a second. Almost as if he had to compose himself. “She wasn’t around that much. When I was thirteen, she finally left for good.” “I’m sorry to hear that.” Angel had to resist the urge to reach out to comfort Derik. “It’s okay. I’m sure she’s happier wherever she is. When she left, it was around the time the coaches started to tell Dad I had real potential as a goalie. After that, he got even more obsessed and started to push me harder. When I finally got drafted into a team, he was so excited.” It struck Angel as odd that Derik used the word excited and not proud. “Is he still around?” “No,” Derik drew the word out long before his lips twisted into a bitter smile. “Not since he 38

A Hundred Fires found out I was gay. He loves to brag about his profession hockey player son and he loves the money that son sends home, but he doesn’t want to claim a fag as his own.” Derik made air quotes when he spoke the derogatory word, letting Angel know he was phrasing it exactly as his father had said it. “That has to hurt.” Derik did that shrugging thing again. “It doesn’t really bother me anymore. I have my own life now.” Angel cut to the chase. “You have a boyfriend?” Derik smiled, although there was a lingering sadness in his eyes. “Not yet, but I met this hot boxer and…I’m hoping.” Angel laughed. “You’re from Cuba, Miami’s so close. You should come visit. Alex and I are teaching at a camp and doing an exhibition game there next week. After it’s over maybe we can pop over to Cuba.” Angel shook his head. “I’ll come visit you, but I’m not allowed in Cuba. They punish me, the government you know, for defecting.” “Wow, that’s tough. I heard that professional boxing is illegal there. How are boxers supposed to support their families?” “They’re supposed to get jobs and survive on glory.” Angel took a deep breath. “The greatest 39

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht Cuban boxer ever, was Teófilo Stevenson. He is only one of three boxing champions ever to win three Olympic gold medals. I have only one. He stayed in Cuba and he never made money. I think that’s sad. He had to become a trainer to make money and Fidel Castro gave him a beautiful mansion, but I wanted more than that. I wanted a career.” “I can understand that. You got family there?” Angel never spoke of his wife and kids. He often spoke of his mother. Being denied access to her was his Achilles’ heel. “My mother.” “You’re close?” Angel nodded. They rounded a corner and in a tiny, ancient bricked walkway, the unmistakable sounds of passion reached their ears. Cristiano was on his knees, sucking Alex’s cock. Alex, who stroked Cristiano’s head, had his tracksuit pants pooled around his knees. His muscular thighs and ass were a turn on. Angel hadn’t had a man for weeks. Even then, the guy hadn’t been much. Alex had a huge cock and Cristiano was giving him such obvious pleasure, Angel found himself growing hard. Alex gazed down at Cristiano working on him. Angel caught the feverish expression. Yes, there was nothing like watching another man sucking 40

A Hundred Fires your cock. It was the ultimate pleasure in the universe. Derik drew him away, past the walkway. “They’re always at it, those two. I almost didn’t come down here, but Alex said a boxing match is fun.” Angel smiled. “It is.” “You like taking punches?” Angel laughed. “I’m used to it.” “I’ve often wondered. What hurts more? Body shots or head shots? When I fight on the ice, I always have so many pads protecting me, the only shots I feel are the face ones.” “Body shots,” Angel said without thinking. “The head shots hurt more later. If you fight somebody who knows what they’re doing, the right shot to your liver or kidneys almost cripples you right where you’re standing.” “Oh boy, you have this big smile on your face when you say that. Maybe boxing and hockey aren’t so different. You’d be right at home on our team. You ever been to a hockey match?” It was on the tip of Angel’s tongue to say, Hockey is for rich people, not poor people like me. He had to remember that he wasn’t so poor anymore. He was making money. He no longer had to worry about having enough food on his table. He settled for a simple, “No.” He listened as Derik talked about his passion for his own sport. 41

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht Angel might not have watched a hockey match, but he envied the idea of a ton of people on the ice with you, having your back. Angel tried not to fret that Lenny was still being held in police custody and wasn’t here to talk to him, too soothe Angel’s jangled nerves. He tried hard to remember what his father used to say to him when he was a kid getting into the ring, but it caused a lump in his throat. “You okay?” Derik asked as he broke off a description of a huge fight on the ice. “I’m fine,” Angel said. “You beat each other with hockey sticks?” Derik laughed and described getting a puck to the eye, the head and in the groin. Angel liked Derik’s humor and toughness. He had a self-assuredness Angel found so sexy. He listened, but his mind also drifted a little. He had to face facts. Somehow, the other time had removed Lenny from the equation. He had Willie and Cristiano in his corner and trusted them both. Willie had negotiated cleverly with the promoters of the fight. He got a decent payday, plus training expenses for stepping in late. There was enough to pay Lenny and Cristiano and have a couple of nice meals in Tijuana. The promoters were supposed to give them tickets to eat for free at the hotel, but both Willie and Angel had decided the other team would try sneaky tricks in 42

A Hundred Fires the hotel kitchen. With their own money and no advanced warning, they could show up at a restaurant and supervise their own meals. They’d be gone by lunchtime tomorrow, on their way back to the US. Cristiano and Alex caught up with them. Cristiano was in charge of the cell phone. He held it up. “They’re not releasing Lenny.” “Oh, shit,” Derik said. “Por nada, it’s nothing,” Angel said. “I need some pasta, a little nap and then I am gonna kick Ruben Glonzalez’s ass.” “Good for you,” Alex said. “We’ll be right there with you.” Angel liked plain pasta with lots of cheese, chopped vegetables over the top and strawberry ice cream right after it. This was his favorite prefight meal. He shared some of his ice cream with Baby Willie who gave him a big hug as he returned to his room to rest. “You have ice cream on your face,” Derik said, riding the elevator with him. He leaned forward and licked it from Angel’s cheek. Angel stiffened but didn’t pull away. “After the fight is over, we can be together,” he said. He took hold of Derik’s big hand in his. He looked at it a moment and kissed it. 43

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht “Wish me luck.” “Good luck,” Derik said. “I can’t nap with you?” “If I nap with you, it won’t involve sleep and I need my legs. I need to stay angry.” “I understand.” Derik stayed in the elevator as Angel got out. “Can I kiss you for good luck?” Angel shook his head. “You can kiss me when I’m the new boxing champion of the world, okay?” “Deal.” Back in his room, Angel wanted to call his mother, but Willie hadn’t forgotten to remove the phone this time. He lay on his bed, napping on and off, afraid of oversleeping. He knew he wouldn’t, that Ernesto would be here to waken him. When he felt the hand at his shoulder, however, he was surprised to see it was Cristiano. “You want to take a shower?” Angel nodded. His whole body was tense, his mind playing an endless loop of his game plan. He toweled off, slipped on jockey shorts. Tightie whities were the thing to wear in the ring. You didn’t want fancy underwear. You needed cotton against your sweating ass and balls. He slipped on black bicycle shorts over these, slathered on deodorant and stared at himself in the mirror. He knew he still looked good, very good. No obvious cuts or bumps. He attributed this to good 44

A Hundred Fires genes and a ferocious left hand jab that had saved him in the ring and on the streets. He’d also gotten first-class plastic surgery the one and only time he got punched in the eye so bad it opened up. There was no scar tissue, no red flag to any opponent who might think the eye was an easy target. He was quick on his feet and with his hands. He pumped his fists in the up-stroke brush style that was his stock in trade. Opening the bathroom door, he saw the room jammed full of people. His gaze zeroed in on Lenny and he felt his heart swell with emotion. Some of the fancy dudes in boxing mocked his ragtag entourage, but Willie always had his back and had never let him down. Willie pumped his fists in the air. “Here he is…the new world champion!” Lenny rushed to him and hugged him. Angel had known, always known that he was destined to be a world champion. He knew when he accepted the fight with Gonzalez that he would beat him. The only question in his mind was how badly he would fuck the kid up. “Can you call my mother?” Angel asked Willie as he took in the smiling faces that were in his room, in his corner. Angel had Willie, Lenny, Cristiano, the three Guzman brothers; Ernesto, Afonso and Fernando all smiled at him. They all wore the black satin jackets with Team Marquez 45

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht emblazoned on the back. Baby Willie was nowhere to be seen. “Where is he?” Angel asked. “In my room with Alex and Derik,” Willie said, handing him his cell phone. “They’ll walk to the ring with us.” Angel spoke to his mother who sounded excited, but begged him to visit her soon. He almost teared up. “I will, Mama,” he lied. It was time. He pulled on his groin guard and the shorts that now had a white stripe going up the outer seams. “Who did it?” “I did,” Willie said, “with some super glue and a steam iron.” They high-fived each other. Angel sat and rolled up his white socks, his black ring boots going on over these. Willie bent and laced them as Angel stood, slipping on his ring robe. It always did something to him, putting on the robe. He felt like Marvelous Marvin Hagler, his favorite boxer of all time. Together, Team Marquez walked down the corridor. They took no chances with the elevator, taking the fire stairs. At the lobby level, some fans jeered him and some wanted their photos taken with him. Angel was dimly aware of Derik and Alex in their team jackets, but his focus was on the movie 46

A Hundred Fires in his mind. He remembered the plan of attack. Swarm him with punches. Dominate from the bell. Cut the ring off. Don’t let him get you up against the ropes. Box him in. Don’t stop throwing punches. In the dressing room, he started skipping rope. Cristiano handed him his iPod and he slipped the ear buds in his ears, the iPod secured in an armband. He always played bachata music for fighting. His body worked up a nice slick sheen of sweat. He kept his feet moving as Willie taped his hands. He only trusted Willie with his hands because without his fists, a fighter had no career. The Boxing Commission official came in to supervise this, to make sure no one secretly slipped magnets under the wraps to deaden his punches. The official signed his name on the massive packaging of bandages and gauze on both fists. As was the rule in his team, Angel extended his left hand to each man in the room and everybody touched up with him. Even the official who then helped Willie get the gloves on him. The Commission kept the boxing gloves in locked boxes until show time. Once again, the official watched as the gloves went on. He made sure the laces were taped over with masking tape, so the fighter couldn’t use them to blind his opponent. He made sure there was no liniment on the 47

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht leather, again to use against his opponent and blind him. The Commission repeated the process right up until the moment the fight started. Angel never wanted to know the results of previous bouts on a card. Especially if a fighter he cared about was involved. Nothing could distract him. They reached the ballroom. It was all the marbles now. He glanced behind him and saw his team and the hope of shiny expectation on their faces as he led the way, once baby Willie was secure in his arms. Baby Willie was the team mascot. Somebody had slicked the kid’s hair back in Angel’s trademark style. He even had his own team jacket and wore baby boxing gloves. Lenny took the iPod and ear buds from him and Willie did the honors of slipping the long hood up and over the champion’s head. Willie said a prayer and waited in the makeshift tunnel in the catering kitchen leading to the ballroom. Angel was the one who decided when it was time to start the ring walk. “Game on,” Angel said as Lenny stood behind him, jostling for prominence with big Willie. “Cristiano, where are you?” Angel barked. “Right here,” came the response. They walked to the ring, the crowd chanting and cheering. There was always a moment when the fight popped for him and this was it. He 48

A Hundred Fires mounted the stairs to the ring, baby Willie holding on tight as Cristiano held down the top and second rope. Angel began to dance, baby Willie’s fists in the air. He might have been here to remove the championship belt, but the crowd loved babies. And they loved mariachi music. Willie’s band launched into a spirited song in the ring, Angel dancing around. He felt good. He felt alive. Cut the ring off. Don’t let him get you up against the ropes. Box him in. Don’t stop throwing punches. Ruben entered the ring with his IBG belt held high over his head by a bodyguard and with his bravado. A young girl mangled The Star Spangled Banner and soon, Cristiano removed the baby from Angel’s arms. Lenny removed his robe, slipped the mouth guard into Angel’s mouth and wiped a thin layer of Vaseline on his face. “You lead with your left. Remember the ribs. He broke three last year. Aim right for them,” Lenny said. Soon, everyone left the ring. Like a mini-Coliseum, the eighteen-foot ring was down to the two fighters, their trainers, the ref, and the ring announcer. They stood in the middle of the ring, the announcer standing behind the ref, holding a mike under the ref’s armpit so the crowd could hear the final instructions. 49

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht There was so much fear in Ruben Gonzalez’s eyes. Angel enjoyed seeing the uncertainty, the anxiety. He liked knowing he was the one who’d put it there. Now it was the two fighters and the ref. Angel waited for the opening bell and for the ref to get out of the way. He charged Ruben who surprised him with a right hook to the head. The crowd roared. For half a round, Angel let his fists fly, taking shots he didn’t want to take, hustling the kid to the ropes. Ruben Gonzalez didn’t know what hit him. A series of right and lefts to the body sent him through the ropes. He almost went through except that Angel pulled him back. The kid was out on his feet, but he was standing. One more punch straight down the middle blew Ruben into the ropes and face forward onto the canvas. The ref counted him out, but Ruben rose to his feet long after the ten-second count. The punch had been so hard, he hadn’t realized he’d been knocked out. Confusion played across his face. His lip was torn and his pupils looked huge. Angel hung back. The fight was over. He had won, but he knew, before the trouble even started that he was in deep shit. Willie, Lenny and Cristiano were by his side. The entire arena went nuts when Ruben Gonzalez started acting a fool, throwing his ring 50

A Hundred Fires corner’s stool across the ring. He raged at the ref, the judges, his team. He saved his special rage for Team Marquez. Then the crowd started throwing chairs. Alex and Derik got into the ring, helping to form a protective barrier around Angel, whose only concern was baby Willie. He saw Alfonso hurrying from the ballroom with the sobbing baby in his arms. A chair hit Willie in the head but Willie shrugged it off. Team Marquez got out of the ring without any police or security help. Derik and Alex took on anyone who dared come near the new champ. It was mayhem. Outside the ballroom, they ran to their rooms and packed frantically. They all met by the fire stairs in their street clothes. Angel and Willie met the Commission officials in the lobby, who apologized for the disgraceful display. Derik hovered close, in case any renegade fans chose to attack the champ. Outside, security tossed a few unruly and unrepentant fans into police vans. Angel allowed none of it to rob him of his victory. He’d won. He learned that Ruben Gonzalez was on his way to a local hospital. The officials gave Angel a piece of paper allowing him medical treatment should it be required. They also gave him his check. In the driveway, Alfonso 51

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht waited at the wheel. The new world IBG welterweight champion and his entourage left like thieves in the night as the fight raged on in the hotel. “We did it,” Willie said. “We did it!” Across the seat from him, Angel saw Derik smiling. “Man, I don’t know which fight was better. The official one, or the unofficial one.” Baby Willie sucked on a fresh bottle. Tears still glistened on his cheeks. Angel held out his arms and the kid climbed into them. “Play some music,” Angel instructed and Willie turned on the radio. “Where’s the mariachi band?” Angel asked, suddenly realizing they weren’t there. “They wanted to stay,” Willie responded. Angel leaned forward to Alfonso who sat up front with his dad who’d taken over the wheel. He touched his shoulder. “How did it go with the baby mama, today? Did you see her?” Alfonso shook his head. “The address she gave me was a vacant lot.” “So sorry, amigo,” Angel said. Alfonso smiled. “Now we have a new world boxing champion in the family. You watch. She’ll call.” Angel laughed. He was probably right. He 52

A Hundred Fires tapped big Willie on the shoulder. “Don’t even say it,” Willie said, lifting a hand. “I know you. You want to go check on Ruben Gonzalez. We’ll do it. Then we’re heading home.”

53

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht

Chapter Three

A

ngel felt like he’d waited a long time to get Derik naked. “Are you sure you’re not in any pain?” Derik asked. “He got you pretty good, you know, with that first punch.” “I’m fine.” Angel’s head hurt, but no more than usual. He was pleased with the fight, which they’d watched at Willie’s favorite seafood restaurant in San Diego, before heading back to L.A. He couldn’t wait to deposit his check and pay out everybody. Once the madness of the post-fight melee had worn off, it seemed that in spite of Gonzalez’s protests, the Commission deemed the fight clean. There would be no investigation. “I’ve never seen such a hard punch,” Alfonso said. “You knocked him clean out.” “That’s gonna go down as one of the best knockouts of all time,” Willie predicted. His cell phone hadn’t stopped ringing, but he 54

A Hundred Fires ignored all the calls. Food and sleep was on everybody’s mind. The fight was so short, they watched it six times as they gobbled their wonderful fish and shrimp dishes. “I don’t know about anyone else,” Angel said as he watched the tape again, “But I think baby Willie stole the show.” “I think so, too,” Alfonso said. “He was stylin’.” Everybody applauded the baby who laughed as his grandfather spooned fresh abalone and asparagus soup into his mouth. Their bellies full, the cheerful crew climbed back into the van, baby Willie asleep in his car seat. Willie dropped Cristiano, Alex, Derik and Angel back at Angel’s apartment and they all hugged. “I have to return the van tomorrow, but I might take it for a drive to the beach first,” Willie said. “I think it’s time to teach the baby to swim.” Angel nodded. He hoped to be too busy with Derik to think about anything else. Now, as they stood in his room, the door shut against the world, they laughed as they heard the moans coming from the guest bedroom. “You know,” Derik said, “I’ve never given head to a world boxing champion before.” Angel grinned. “Think you can handle it?” “Oh, yeah.” Derik pushed him to the bed and Angel laughed. He was used to being the 55

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht aggressor and this was total pleasure, having a huge, hot, hung guy wanting him. They swapped a few delirious kisses, Angel sighing at the sublime feeling of a warm, hard body with a gigantic cock ready for him. It had never felt like this with women. He already knew Derik would fuck him. Usually Angel was the one who topped, but he wanted Derik inside him, rocking his world. Derik moved down Angel’s body, his lips and tongue bringing him back to sensual life. Derik knew where and how to lick a man, that’s for sure. By the time his mouth closed over the head of Angel’s cock, the fighter was kicking the sheets, begging for release. “Not so fast, champ.” Derik came off Angel’s cock quickly. “What? What’s going on?” “On your knees.” Angel turned over, raising himself up, shocked when Derik’s face pressed into him. Angel thought he’d died and gone to heaven. Derik ate him as if this was his last supper. Angel arched up into him, Derik’s tongue laving at his hole, slipping inside him with the aid of a finger. “Oh, fuck,” Angel moaned. Derik stopped. “Turn over,” he demanded again. Angel was on fire. 56

A Hundred Fires “You look like you’re ready to come,” Derik said, his own cock bobbing and leaking. “I won’t have you coming until I’m ready.” He got off the bed. “Stay there. Or else.” Derik left the room, the door open wide. What the fuck? Angel heard him in the kitchen. I can’t believe he’s out there, walking around naked. Alex and Cristiano might see him. I want his cock! Derik came back with a bag of frozen peas. He closed the door once again and advanced toward Angel. He held the peas against Angel’s hot, swollen ball sac. Angel yelped. “Let me kiss it better,” Derik crooned, taking Angel’s balls into his mouth one at a time. Derik didn’t touch his cock again, but pressed the peas against his ass and balls. He sucked Angel’s tongue into his mouth, making Angel’s cock leap in frantic desire. He moved down sucking Angel’s nipples. Finally, his hand moved back to Angel’s cock. He fondled it, then bent to suck the nowslick head. He moved Angel back to his knees again. “You got rubbers?” “Yes, yes.” Angel pointed to the nightstand. Derik reached over and pulled out the box. “Fuck me. Oh Christ, fuck me.” “I’m gonna fuck you, Angel. The first time you come with me, it’s gonna be with my cock in your ass. I never want you to forget our first time.” 57

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht “I won’t forget.” Angel practically begged for the dick that smacked at his ass. Derik slid the rubber on and Angel’s ass angled up, waiting, wanting as Derik finally took possession of him. “You won’t come until I tell you to,” Derik said, but it was too late. Angel came so hard, he saw stars. Derik fucked him with the assurance Angel knew he would. Angel’s cock was still hard. “I think your cock likes me,” Derik said, reaching down to touch it. “Yeah,” Angel muttered. He forced himself not to scream for the cock. He loved each and every hard stroke inside him, searching, stroking, massaging his prostate. Derik grunted. “Angel, your ass is too hot for me, baby.” Derik reached down and stroked him off. They came together, their hearts pumping. Fuck…what a hot goddamned fuck. Derik turned him over, pulling out of him and abandoning the rubber hanging off his own cock. “This time, you’re gonna come in my mouth,” Derik said, bending down to him, two fingers sliding into Angel’s hot, tight ass. You own me. Angel loved the thought. He’d never had such incredible sex. “Angel?” “Uh-huh?” Derik lifted his head. “You gonna come to 58

A Hundred Fires Miami with me?” “Fuck, yes.” He didn’t care about anything. Not boxing, not anything. He just wanted this, to be alone in bed with Derik. Willie and Lenny will have a fit. I don’t care. Fuck…I’m gonna come again! **** Derik had just had one of the hardest orgasms of his life, yet he already felt his cock stirring again. Damn, he hadn’t had this fast a recovery since he’d been twenty. It shouldn’t have come as a shock, though. Everything about Angel turned Derik on. The way his muscles rippled under his golden skin. How his eyes almost grew black with passion. Even the sounds Angel made when he came made Derik hard. Still, what in the fuck had possessed Derik to ask Angel to come to Miami? Hell, he’d done more than asked, he’d practically begged. Ever since Eric, Derik had vowed never to let anyone get close to him, again. Sure, he was still quick to get into bed with guys, but he was just as quick to get out. Never once had he thought about looking back as he walked out the door. It had been happening so frequently lately that, even before the confrontation at the bar the other 59

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht night, Alex had started to call him to task for it. Jokingly calling Derik a man-whore, even though they both knew Alex was more than a little worried. Derik pushed all that crap to the back of his brain and instead returned his attention to the man who was under him. Thank God, Angel hadn’t noticed that Derik had kind of drifted for a minute. Derik dipped his head down and took Angel’s slick cock into his mouth. As the lingering tang of come washed over his tongue, Derik allowed himself to give over to the high that always came with sex. It was only then that he could forget about everything else. Only then, that he truly felt worthy. In the morning, when Derik woke up, at first, he didn’t know where he was. Then Angel made a slight humming sound as he moved closer to Derik’s chest, and everything came slamming home with heart pounding clarity. He had mind-blowing sex with the hottest man he’d ever met and then he’d spent the rest of the night actually cuddling with him, while they slept. That had to be a first, for him. Not the mindblowing sex part, but the spooning afterward. Even when he’d been with Eric, he never actually slept in the same bed as him. As soon as the fun 60

A Hundred Fires part was over, Eric had always been quick to boot Derik’s ass out. So…actually waking up with someone in his arms was new. As he kissed Angel on the top of the head, he had to admit to himself it wasn’t that bad. Still, a quick look at the clock told him he only had twenty minutes until he was due to meet Alex for their usual morning run. Easing out of bed carefully, so as not to wake up Angel, Derik got up then padded to the bathroom. He took a quick shower even though he’d have to take another one after the workout. The previous night’s activities had left him sticky in all kinds of interesting places. After he finished washing up, he brushed his teeth and got dressed in a pair of shorts and a USA Hockey tee. Giving the bed and Angel one last longing look, he left the bedroom. He found Alex gazing into the fridge, a look of disgust on his face. “Nothing but lettuce and a few condiments,” Alex groused as he shut the door. “I saw a donut shop, just down the block from here. We can pick up something on our way back from the run,” Derik offered as he sat down to lace up his shoes. “I’m hungry now,” Alex bitched as he sat down to do up his own shoes. “Stop being such a girl and whining. We both 61

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht know you puke every time you eat before we run, so why do you keep doing it?” “Because I love to watch you gag when I do it.” Alex stood and started to stretch his arms. Derik grunted. Knowing Alex, he probably did get a kick out of grossing him out. Even though the hockey world thought Alex was the sweetheart and Derik was the bruiser, they both knew Alex bent his halo in more than one place. As they walked outside, Derik groaned as he breathed in the still-cool air. Los Angeles had become more and more desert-like over the years he’d visited the city. He knew within hours, he’d be breathing hot, muggy air. Even given the early hour, the streets were already heavy with traffic, too. He suddenly missed his quiet neighborhood back home in Montgomery, Ohio. “So, no Chris this morning?” he asked as they started jogging. “He hates it when you call him that.” “I know. Why do you think I do it?” Derik gave a grin he knew was wicked. Alex shook his head. “Cristiano was still sleeping when I left. How about Angel?” “The same.” Derik tsked. “Boxers just don’t have our stamina, I guess.” They both laughed, before Alex switched subjects. “Are you ready for Miami?” “Yeah, I just have to call and book another 62

A Hundred Fires ticket for the flight.” When Alex gave him a questioning look, Derik added, “I asked Angel to go with us.” “With us or with you?” Alex pointed out in that maddening succinct way of his. “Shut up. I just thought the kids at the camp would get a kick out of meeting him.” Before Alex could respond, Derik picked up the pace. He knew from experience, that if Alex had enough breath to talk, he’d keep yammering away. So Derik would just make it so they were too busy sucking wind to think of anything else but getting through the run. By the time they were finished, both of them were sweaty and gasping. Derik’s lungs and legs burned as the endorphins kicked in. Sick as it sounded, he always looked forward to the feeling. It only ranked second to a good sex. Good sex led him to thinking about Angel, and Derik smiled as they stopped in front of the donut shop. Bending over at the waist, he panted for several minutes before he finally was able to breathe normally. “You are one sadistic slave driver,” Alex moaned. “You should be thanking me. With the way you eat, you’d never fit into your goalie pants if I didn’t make you burn some of that shit off.” As if on cue, Alex jerked his head toward the door. “Can we go in, now? I can smell the coffee 63

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht and if I don’t get some soon, I’m going to lose it.” Derik rolled his eyes, but allowed himself to get pulled in because, truth be told, the coffee did smell damn good. They got a dozen donuts and four coffees to go and returned to the apartment to find Cristiano and Angel just getting up. Alex set the tray of drinks down and immediately went over to kiss Cristiano. Derik hung back, not quite sure how he should greet Angel. He finally settled for a small grin and an offer of fattening, sugary goodness. “Want one?” he held the box up. “So, that’s where you took off to this morning?” Angel asked, in that sexy accent. “That and running. We have to stay in shape, even off-season, or else we won’t pass our physicals.” Derik set the box down and Alex immediately attacked, grabbed a Bear Claw and dragged Cristiano over to the couch. Derik held back, enjoying the sight of a sleep-tousled Angel instead. A lock of hair was sticking up in the back of his head and before he realized what he was doing, Derik moved closer so he could smooth it down. Angel wore just a pair of sweats giving Derik a good view of the man’s tempting chest. He frowned when he noticed some bruising on the side. How had he missed that last night? He 64

A Hundred Fires lightly fingered the spot. “Is this from the fight?” Duh, where else do you think he got it? The sex wasn’t that rough last night. His inner dumb-dumb voice chided. “Yeah.” Angel gazed up at him. His brown eyes full of an emotion that Derik had never seen directed his way before. “Does it hurt?” No, it tickles. Of course it hurts, you idiot. “Not too bad. I’m pretty used to it.” Angel grabbed Derik’s hand and pressed a kiss to his fingers. “I guess it’s an occupational hazard,” Derik joked as his heart thudded in his chest. How was it possible that one touch from Angel could affect him this much? “So says the guy who willingly throws his body in front of a puck that’s moving over eighty miles per an hour. Besides, Alex has shown me some of your news articles. You get into plenty of fights yourself.” Derik shrugged. “Just a few.” “A few?” Alex snorted from across the room. “He racked up the most penalty minutes for any goalie in the league last year.” Derik flipped him off. “Someone had to make up for your docile ass. You were giving all of us goalies a bad rep.” Alex returned the rude gesture, but chuckled, 65

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht showing he wasn’t too offended. A tug on Derik’s shirt made him return his attention back to Angel. The boxer nodded to the box. “What’s your favorite kind?” “Chocolate,” Derik replied, suddenly getting very serious under Angel’s intense gaze. Angel reached in the box and pulled out a donut slathered with chocolate frosting. He lifted it up and Derik parted his lips without a second’s hesitation. Angel slipped the treat in his mouth and Derik bit down, not even trying to hold back a moan of appreciation. Unlike Alex, Derik rarely indulged in junk food and this tasted like heaven. First, the ice cream the other night, and now this. He was going to have to go out for an extra run just to stay in shape. Angel snagged a bite for himself before he held the donut up to Derik’s mouth again. Angel did that a few more times, until they had consumed the whole thing between the two of them. “Thanks. I think that has to be the best donut in my life,” Derik said, only half teasing. Angel stood up and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go take a shower.” Without sparing Cristiano or Alex a parting glance, let alone a goodbye, Derik allowed Angel to pull him to the large master bathroom. As soon as they got the door closed, Derik kicked off his shoes and peeled off his workout 66

A Hundred Fires clothes while Angel turned the shower on. Angel turned back around, an appraising expression on his face as he looked Derik up and down. “Damn, I had no idea hockey players have such hot bodies. Now I know why Cristiano likes Alex so much.” Derik reached out for Angel, but the boxer stepped back, out of reach. “Oh, no you don’t. This time I run the show.” The breath hitched in Derik’s chest at that declaration. Since Eric, he’d never allowed anyone to control things, to be in charge of his pleasure. He knew that it would be total submission, too. Meaning Angel would want to fuck him. Something that Derik had only permitted Eric to do. His hesitation must have shown on his face because Angel said, “Come on. It’ll be okay.” The irony of the whole situation wasn’t lost on Derik. Here he stood, the bad boy of hockey, acting like some hesitant virgin in the back seat of a car on prom night. Finally, he nodded, his head moving in a short jerky motion. Angel shucked his sweats, revealing he’d been wearing no underwear. His cock jutted in front of him, thick and long. The night before, Derik had admired it, now that he knew it would soon be filling him, his stomach clenched in trepidation. Then Angel moved forward and kissed him, and some of that worry melted away. Fuck, the 67

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht things the boxer could do with his tongue. He nearly made Derik come just by stroking the inside of his mouth. Derik even leaned in and let out soft noises as he begged for more. Angel’s fingers wrapped around Derik’s wrist to pull him in and this time, he went without any protest. The stall had one of those contraptions that had several showerheads and Derik moaned in appreciation as the warm water hit his tense muscles. The walls were black marble, just like a lot of the stuff in Angel’s apartment. Not that Alex was one to critique. His own attempt at interior decorating was his coffee table fashioned out of broken hockey sticks. So, in comparison, Angel’s place looked classier. Angel came in behind and tenderly washed Derik, even going so far as to wash his hair. Derik closed his eyes and reveled in the sensation of someone taking care of him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had actually given damn enough to treat him this way. While Angel ran a soapy washcloth all over, he only briefly touched Derik’s aching cock. After several, frustrating seconds, Derik braced his hands on the tile wall in front of him and started to thrust his hips forward into empty air, hoping that Angel would get the hint. Angel’s chuckle reached his ears. “You don’t 68

A Hundred Fires think I’m going to make it that easy for you?” “Please,” Derik shocked himself by begging. Angel spun him around and gave him a hard kiss before he dropped down on his knees in front of Derik. At first, Derik thought that Angel had finally given in, but he soon discovered this was just a whole new way of torture. He would lick and suck Derik just to the breaking point and then pull back at the last second. He did this repeatedly until Derik was nearly pleading for mercy. “Please, I need…I need,” Derik broke off, not able to finish. He should have known Angel wouldn’t let him get away with that. “You want what?” he demanded, as he let Derik’s cock slide from his lips. Derik gazed down at him seeing, the way the water slicked Angel’s hair back, how his lips were swollen from sucking. Most of all, he saw the unspoken emotions in Angel’s dark eyes and that proved to be Derik’s undoing. “I need you,” he finally confessed in a broken voice. Angel stood up and reached around him to turn off the water. His lips just inches from Derik’s ear, Angel whispered, “You’ve always had me.” Derik expected Angel to fuck him right then. Instead, the boxer opened the shower door and led him back to the bedroom. Once they got there, 69

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht Angel urged Derik onto the mattress and started to kiss a slow path up his body. By the time Angel had worked his way back up, Derik was fisting the comforter and panting, his eyes closed tightly in passion. “Do you have lube?” Derik asked. When he felt a cool, slick finger slide into his ass, his lids shot open. “Guess that answers that question.” “Do you need to get on your knees?” Angel asked as he added another finger, making a delicious burn build up in Derik. “No, I want to watch your face as you fuck me.” He gasped when Angel’s fingers curled and caressed his sweet spot. “You like that?” Angel quizzed, softy. Do I like it? If Derik hadn’t been panting for breath, he may have laughed. Angel had to know how much his touch was making Derik lose control. Then Angel added a third finger, slowly twisting his wrist as he did so and Derik almost came off the bed. “Fuck me, now!” he all but snarled. Angel laughed and muttered something that had the word bossy in it, but he removed his fingers and slicked a condom over his cock. Even though it still looked huge, Derik didn’t feel any fear anymore. He even tilted his hips up in a blatant plea. Angle slowly pressed past the tight ring of 70

A Hundred Fires muscle, his face a beautiful mask of passion. Derik slowly breathed out, not stopping until Angel was all the way in. It hurt, but it felt good, too, as Angel filled him like no other had before. What do I mean no other? The only one who ever fucked me was Eric. Derik closed his eyes, hating that, once again, he was thinking of Eric. Especially since this encounter was nothing like what they’d shared. Eric would just use Derik to get off and then leave. Never had he taken the time to make sure that he was comfortable and finding pleasure, the way Angel did. “Stay with me,” Angel shocked him by saying. Derik opened his eyes, stunned the man had noticed him slipping back into the past. “I’m good,” Derik replied, not sure if he was talking to Angel or himself. Angel reached out and grabbed Derik’s hand, their fingers lacing together. Only then did he slowly start to move, his cock thrusting into Derik’s ass. “It’s just you and me, now. Just focus on us.” “How do you do that? Know when I’m drifting?” Derik asked, his voice hoarse. Angel licked a fingertip and ran it around Derik’s nipple. It was so sensitive when he was super-horny, jolts of electricity went through him. His mouth hung open as Angel stroked first one 71

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht nipple, then the other into life, a focused expression on his face. Man, he is such a sensualist. “I’m a boxer. I am trained to read people.” Derik nodded. Right now, he didn’t care that Angel could read his mind. He hooked his feet behind the boxer’s muscular calves, urging him to pick up the pace. He was half-expecting Angel to ignore him and still insist on keeping control. Instead, Angel started to fuck him in quick hard strokes. “Damn, you just had to get me worked up in the shower,” Derik said with a groan as he quickly found himself growing tight. It took only a few more strokes and he came, the sticky fluid hitting both of their stomachs. After a few more seconds, Angel joined him. His eyelids fluttering shut as he filled the condom. Derik rubbed his back and whispered stupid nonsense words the entire time. As Angel collapsed on top of him, Derik realized that at that moment, he couldn’t think of any place, any one, that he wanted to be with more. The thought scared the ever-living hell out of him, too.

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A Hundred Fires

Chapter Four

“W

e have never seen something like this before in Miami. All Cubans around the world should know that the day is coming! Thank you, Miami, which shows that we are one people. We are the people that love and defend freedom. It doesn’t matter what country, where we came from, we are united in this great country in freedom. At this moment, the Ladies in White are marching in Cuba. At this moment, they are receiving violence, again. They are joined with us here. Let us pray for them right now and show them peace.” Pop singer Gloria Estefan’s impassioned speech was interrupted by the screams and shouts of support from the myriad Cuban refugees stuffed into the banquet room of Noches, a small Cuban nightclub in East LA, watching her on a large overhead screen. Estefan’s historic moment, leading thousands of men and women in Miami in support of the 73

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht women in Havana, Cuba, was a stirring moment. After fifty-one years of the Castro government, the female citizens of Havana were staging their first democratic protest along the Malecón, the city’s famed promenade. Images switched back to Miami where men and women wearing white, marched in the hot sun. Back in Havana, Cuban women, holding flowers and photos of their jailed husbands, sons and fathers, walked with varying stages of emotion. They were protesting the government’s repressive regime, the report playing over the club’s huge sound system. Angel and everybody else present, watched the astonishing images of tens of thousands of women dressed in white swarming through the streets of Havana. At the same moment, thousands of men and women walked in solidarity in Miami. The TV coverage flicked back and forth between the two cities. In Miami, all was calm. The right to protest, a given. In Cuba, violence erupted against the peaceful protestors. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Angel whispered. As Estefan repeated her words in Spanish, Willie lowered the sound. 74

A Hundred Fires Angel walked to the small dais, erected for his celebratory press lunch. He’d chosen this day to bring attention to his country’s plight. Willie had organized everything, amazing Angel, once again, with his abilities. He’d wanted badly to be in Miami, but Willie had insisted, and rightly so in hindsight, that Angel belonged to the people of LA. He needed to hold the press conference here. “I cannot be in Cuba today, which kills me,” Angel said, barely holding back tears. “I cannot be there to march with the Women in White. I wish I could be in Miami to march with my brothers and sisters, but I want to be with you all here today to tell you that I love what I do. If I have a message, it is a message of peace. A message of freedom.” Angel swiped at pooling tears as cameras clicked. His entire team stood beside him. Angel knew his mother was marching in Havana and he was sick with worry. He hadn’t glimpsed her in the crowd, but he knew there was violence. He knew she could be injured. All those present applauded and threw out questions. “I do not regret defecting,” Angel said. “A friend drove me across the border into Los Angeles and got me a room at the Hilton Hotel in Universal City. Since then, Since then so many people have helped me. All of them are here today 75

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht and I thank them for that.” Angel glimpsed his immigration attorney’s face and smiled. “I see the people here who brought me clothes, when I had none. Food when I was hungry. I came here with nothing.” A rogue tear streaked down his cheek. “I was forced to leave by car, an amateur bout in Mexico, leaving everything behind. I am grateful to all the people who helped me. Who loved me and supported me and—” he glanced at Willie, “who believed in me.” “Any regrets?” somebody asked. “I regret only that I can’t see my mother. Today is especially difficult for me because I know she is marching. I know she wants to live in freedom, not violence.” He answered all the questions. Alex and Derik had left for Miami, but Cristiano was here. Baby Willie reached over and wanted Angel to hold him. Angel dutifully took him in his arms, insisting on a group shot with the two Willies, the three Guzman brothers, and Cristiano, whose sparring had helped him become world champion. “I didn’t become world champion alone,” he said. “I did it with the help of all these people. Thank you Los Angeles, for making this Cuban refugee find a new home.” 76

A Hundred Fires Behind him on the screen, Gloria Estefan and her husband began to walk. In Matanzas, east of Havana, images showed the women being attacked without provocation, by pro-government forces. My God…she really could be hurt. And she worries about me getting into a boxing ring. Angel’s head was spinning. His mother had promised to call as soon as she was home. He’d begged her not to go, but his own father had been jailed as a dissident. He’d been a poet. He’d died in jail under mysterious circumstances, leaving the young Angel to take care of his family from the age of six. He took a deep breath, trying to exude the aura of the conquering hero. All he felt was helplessness. He left all discussion of future opponents to Willie. He didn’t care who he fought. He’d beat them all. Willie wasn’t thrilled about Angel traveling to Miami. After an initial near-argument, they sat silent, inside the Bank of America branch on Limonite Avenue in Mira Loma. He’d only accommodated Willie’s demands for a press lunch, but it had been a huge success. “Freedom is alive and we care for the people of Cuba. We love them!” Estefan had shouted. The boxer longed to be part of the movement. Many 77

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht celebrities had marched with Estefan. Even if he’d been in Miami, he might not have been asked to walk with them. Now his new world champion status was starting to get him attention as some sort of Cuban celebrity. Maybe next year, he could be involved. He was certain there would be another protest next year. Angel felt the seeds of change taking place in his life. Change, except for the absolute freedom of being able to go home. Just once, he wanted to sit under the olive tree with his mother and hear her stories, her wonderful laugh and he wanted to see his children again. “I want you to get a fight as soon as possible,” Willie said as they waited in the bank. “You’re in the best shape of your life. We should get you a nice, easy fight, something fast.” Angel agreed. He knew this would make Willie happy and dammit, the man was right. He’d taken a couple of shots and nothing more in the fight. It was a little disorienting to have people honk him in the streets and waving, calling him champ. Occasionally, he got a Ruben Gonzalez fan giving him the finger and he’d just wave back. As they waited in the bank for the manager to clear his fight check, Angel counted the hours until he would board the flight to Miami. And Derik. The seats were plush, the wall paint smelled 78

A Hundred Fires new. The plants had that just-bought feel to them. But outside, it was still Mira Loma. Miles from nothing. Flat rural land being developed, but mostly, it was a haven for the poor, poor, poor. Angel tried and he knew Willie tried not to look anxious as they continued to wait for the manager to approve the check from the fight. Both Angel and Willie had some celebrity status in Mira Loma. Willie, particularly, had some cache since his day job was the tow-truck company he owned and operated out of his house. Willie was clever enough to give free tows to local businesses and free coupons for oil changes. They had been waiting twenty minutes. Angel wasn’t worried. He’d only ever been screwed over twice and that was in Northern California by a small-time promoter. Both times the banks honored the bad checks—eventually. He and Willie had insisted on his purse from the Gonzalez fight paid into a local Escrow account in Los Angeles. The check should be fine. Just to be sure, Angel and Willie wore their best suits and made sure their breath wasn’t stinky. They were in good spirits. The branch manager approached them. Angel felt the tightness in his gut evaporate. He could tell the news was good. “Wonderful,” Willie said, lurching to his feet, handing out oil-change coupons, which the tellers 79

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht snatched up with eager hands. The branch manager hustled them to an empty desk. He transferred Willie’s fifteen-percent management fee from the check to his account. The rest he electronically deposited to Angel’s account. “You need money for the trainer and the corner man, right?” Angel smiled and nodded. Until the banker had met Angel, this was not the kind of language he knew. Now he got free tickets to Angel’s fights and often came to the gym to watch him train. “One last thing.” The branch manager held up his cell phone. “Do you mind?” “Of course not.” Angel stood and Willie’s thick fingers grappled the tiny cell phone as Angel posed, the way boxers always posed—one arm around a fan, their free hand curled into a fist. Willie snapped off a few shots. “I can’t wait to put these on my Facebook page.” The branch manager slid Angel some cash and his receipts. “You did Mira Loma proud, Angel.” Outside, Willie twirled his car keys in his hands. Of course, a mini pair of boxing gloves dangled from them. “Give this to Lenny,” Angel said, handing 80

A Hundred Fires Willie some notes. “I’ll pay Cristiano in Miami.” “You’re really gonna do this.” “Yes.” Willie narrowed his eyes. “I never knew you were such a fan of hockey.” “I love it.” “You’re really leaving this afternoon?” Angel nodded. “A week, right. Just a week?” Another nod. “You’re not leaving me for that big-time Cuban promoter in Miami are you?” Willie’s alarm seemed real. Angel stared at him. “I—Willie, are you nuts? We’re a team.” Willie still seemed unnerved. “I want to have a little fun, that’s all.” “Okay.” Willie’s eyes shifted back and forth in his head as if the word fun was not something he was used to hearing from Angel. And, as a matter of fact, it wasn’t. Angel was throwing caution to the wind. He was gonna roll with the punches and lead with his heart. He wanted to be near Derik. He wanted to be so close, he could see the hairs on his arms. He wanted to touch his chin as his five o’clock shadow started to show. He wanted to kiss the man until he saw stars. “So, no time for a late lunch?” Willie sounded 81

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht bummed. Angel laughed. “Of course I have time for lunch. Neither of us got to eat at our own press lunch. Any idea if the food was good?” “I don’t know. I wouldn’t let my kids eat anything since I didn’t inspect the kitchen.” Angel’s laughter was from the heart. Good ol’ Willie. And just like that, things were okay between them again. “Lunch,” he said. “Then I need to get to the airport.” Willie brightened. “We have a sandwich and a nice salad at the Cowgirl Café and then I’ll drive you. You can leave your car at my place.” “Okay.” Behind Willie’s back, Angel crossed himself. He loved his car. He wondered how much of it would be left after the neighborhood chop shop thieves got done with it. Oh well…it was just a car. It was worth keeping Willie happy, even if he came back to a burned-out shell of a car. Just like the last time he left his car in Willie’s driveway… Once settled on the Jet Blue flight, Angel started to relax. Cristiano was working on some paper for his college thesis. He had his laptop open, pecking away furiously. Angel admired his dedication as he flicked through the channels on his private TV 82

A Hundred Fires screen. He saw himself on ESPN, his championship belt raised high. It wasn’t his belt, but one that his sanctioning body had lent him until he received his own, but it still felt good. His thoughts strayed. They were not of belts, of protests or violence…he thought of his mother who still hadn’t called by the time he’d been forced to turn off his cell phone. His thoughts were of Derik and how a simple grin from the guy could make Angel get rock hard. He took out his cell phone and studied Derik’s last text message. I’m so proud of you, can’t wait to see you. xoxo Angel’s thumb ran over Derik’s name on the glass screen. I am in love. For the first time in years, my heart feels something more than hurt. **** Derik found himself pacing. The whole of Miami had come to a standstill over the Ladies in Waiting march. He and Alex had flown into the city and the news was everywhere. How come I never heard about this before? His gaze fell on the silent TV screen still playing scenes from the march held earlier in the day. The Ladies in White was a political movement started some years ago due to seventy-five dissidents arrested in Cuba. They consisted of poets, writers, 83

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht journalists and librarians, some of them jailed for eighty-five years. Eighty-five! He’d watched Angel’s press conference, seen the emotion on his lover’s face and learned things about him that he never knew, like his dad being an early dissident long missing, presumed dead at the hands of the Cuban government. Derik knew this day had been hard for Angel not being able to support his mother, apparently an active participant of this group. He was impressed that the women walked to church each Sunday in white, conveying their message of peace. Frequently the victims of violence, they had struck out today and marched. We really take our freedom of speech for granted here. Now, the world knew their plight. They had made history, and Derik had a whole new respect for singer Gloria Estefan. Cuba starting to experience revolution was a good and beautiful thing. He was glad. Except…Derik felt selfish. He’d shared Angel with the world and now that they were finally alone together, he was still sharing him. With his cell phone. Alex and Cristiano were already in their room bringin’ the house down like friggin’ bionic bunnies. They were meeting in an hour to head to Little Havana. The Cuban neighborhood was still celebrating the 84

A Hundred Fires day’s march. Alex and Derik wanted to surprise Angel with a late supper at La Camaronera, one of the oldest and best Cuban restaurants in Miami, according to the hotel’s concierge. And all he’d had so far was a kiss. A single goddamned kiss! He couldn’t fortify himself on that, for God’s sake. Angel was on the phone having finally tracked down his militant mother who’d been marching in Havana. “Sorry,” Angel said, turning back from the magnificent view of the Key. Derik had been relentless in choosing the best room he could get for Angel. The Mandarin Oriental, right on Miami’s shoreline was about the best hotel in town. His teammates were all here, Alex and Chris right next door. Angel didn’t even seem to notice the glorious colors shimmering like silken rainbows on the water. Even with the hotel lights strategically placed to make it seem a nighttime wonderland, Angel was oblivious. He’d been busy arguing with his wayward mama who was proud of having been arrested. Angel ended the call saying, “Buenas noches, Mama.” He turned to Derik, looking relieved. “She’s okay. A little bruised, but she is okay.” Derik saw the haunted expression in Angel’s eyes and his fury melted. 85

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht “I’m glad, babe.” He put his arms around Angel. “I had a conversation with my mother I never thought I would have,” Angel said into Derik’s shoulder. “She asked how to wash off fingerprint ink.” He pulled back and laughed, and finally seemed to take in the rooms and their sumptuous surroundings. “This is really something.” He turned back outside. Derik pulled Angel to him, his cock rubbing against his lover’s ass. Angel pressed into him, leaning closer. “I missed you,” Derik said, his lips brushing Angel’s throat. He could feel the humming vibration of Angel’s quickening pulse. He loved knowing he was the one who made the man’s heart race. He touched his tongue tip to the little beat and heard Angel gasp. Angel turned and tilted his head up for a kiss. “I missed you, too,” he said as Derik kissed him hard. His hands moved down to Angel’s jeans, to the bulge leaning across the right side of the tight stretch of denim. He looked so good in his jeans…and out of them. “Do you miss Cuba?” Derik asked, his fingers probing, stroking Angel’s thickening cock. “A lot. This was a big day for our island. The 86

A Hundred Fires people spoke.” Derik watched the emotion in Angel’s eyes. God, this guy was so different from anyone he’d ever known. He wanted to shield him from hurt. And yet, here he was, a man who absorbed brutality for a living. Angel rubbed his ass against Derik’s cock, which also hardened by the second. “You know how I want you to fuck me?” Angel asked. Derik gulped. Fuck, he thought he’d never hear those words. “How?” he asked throatily. “Right here, looking at the water.” Man, he was a hot mofo. Derik slid his man’s jeans and black boxer briefs down his smooth thighs. “You are such a bad boy, Angel. Your cock is so hard.” He gripped it in a possessive way. “It’s so hot, too.” Angel’s smile was slow, seductive. “My real last name is Cienfuegos. It means a hundred fires.” “You sure light up about a hundred in me.” Derik ran his hands over Angel’s hips and ass. Yeah, he wanted to be in him again, to feel Angel’s excitement as he came. He took him away from the balcony and into the room, lifting him to the dining table in the room. Angel said nothing as Derik tossed away Angel’s running shoes, jeans, 87

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht and underpants and began licking his ass, balls and cock. Angel lay back, his ass on the edge of the table, his sock-covered feet running along Derik’s shoulders. Derik fumbled for a rubber. Angel had to open the package for him his fingers shook so much. He pushed down his jeans and his own underpants. Angel handed him the lubed disc. “You ever fucked Cristiano?” he asked. He had no idea why, but he was certain they’d gotten it on. “No…fooled around some. A long time ago. Before he met Alex. Now, am I gonna get fucked, or do I have to beg?” “Begging would be nice.” “Please, please, please,” Angel began to chant. His voice grew softer as Derik rolled the condom over his shaft, smoothing it out. Angel stopped chanting as Derik entered him. Angel’s legs moved up and around Derik’s neck. Oh man, he was in so deep he couldn’t believe it. “I—” Words failed Derik who felt Angel’s ass fastened down on his cock. He knew Angel was going to come. The sensation of being gripped by that hot, tight ass flooded his system and he came hard, deep inside his lover’s ass. Angel’s legs tightened as he too, began to come, his hand curled around his cock. 88

A Hundred Fires Derik nudged Angel’s hand away. He wanted to guide the eruption himself, to feel Angel’s hot flash all over his fingers. At last, their echoed sighs subsided. “Is this how it’s gonna be with us?” Derik asked. Angel, still gripping Derik’s cock inside him, looked up into his eyes and nodded. Yes. Angel’s eyes shone as they walked through the loud and happy-sounding Little Havana. They stopped at the Eternal Flame memorial erected for the Bay of Pigs crisis. Old men played dominos under fairy light-lit trees. Children ran around, the smell of Cuban cigars was strong and guitar music filled the air. He was so unassuming, he seemed surprised when people went crazy at the mere sight of him. Dozens of people wanted their photos taken with Angel. More followed him as they walked to the La Camaronera, a fish market and restaurant. “The concierge told me that they cook the food right in front of you,” Derik said. “Oh, Willie would love this place.” Angel leaned across the counter, studying the fish lined up in ice across long benches. Everyone jostled for space. Derik nearly keeled over when he realized there were no seats. You were supposed to eat 89

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht standing up at the counter. He thought he was bringing his lover to a gourmet establishment. He’d speak to the concierge about his lousy sense of humor when they returned to the hotel. Angel seemed to be in heaven, though. Alex and Cristiano wanted the local lobster. “You have fish cheeks?” Angel asked pointing to the menu. “Not right now.” The food server shook his head. “They’re grouper cheeks and right now there’s a moratorium on grouper fishing.” “Okay,” Angel said. “Our fried lobster chunks were featured on the Food Network’s Diners, Drive-ins and Dives,” the food server said. “They’re really great. And the shrimp, too, of course.” Angel and Derik went for the Pan con Minuta. “I have to have it,” Angel said, his eyes pleading. He bounced on his toes until the slab of fish with the head gone, but tail intact, arrived breaded and fried, smothered in onions and garnished with tartar sauce. He bit into it, offering some to Derik. It was good stuff. Derik’s fish arrived next and he tried to overlook the crispy tail. Were you supposed to eat it? He was just glad it hadn’t come with a head and an opaque fish eye staring up at him. Angel held a fried shrimp to Derik’s mouth. 90

A Hundred Fires “I want to kiss you,” Angel whispered. “But people are watching us.” “Fuck them. Kiss me anyway.” Angel just laughed. The crowd waited until the champ demolished the last bite of fish tail and everyone applauded. Angel looked surprised. “Who are all these people?” he asked Derik. “You didn’t notice them following us?” “No. I thought they were here for the fish. Hey, Alex, you gonna eat all those lobster chunks?” Angel kept Derik awake through the night, not that Derik was complaining as they drove up to the hockey arena the next morning. His balls and cock ached from unaccustomed manhandling and his ass reminded him, it too, got a rigorous workout. Twelve rounds, Angel had joked. Man, being with Angel was like a beautiful, fast car running you over. You didn’t know what hit you and it left you in a daze. A part of him was still in that beautiful hotel, all tangled up with his gorgeous man. Another part of him was excited to get on the ice and show off for him. As they arrived in the arena’s parking lot, Derik felt a bit of nostalgia hit him. The sight of the SUVs with hockey decals in the windows and all the kids lugging in their heavy bags, brought him back to his childhood days at the rink. He reached 91

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht across the seat and grabbed Angel’s hand, glad that he was finally getting a chance to share a piece of his world with the man. “Did you bring a sweatshirt, like I told you to?” he asked. Angel cocked a brow as he stared outside at the sunny day. “It’s got to be around ninety outside.” Cristiano laughed from the passenger seat. “Trust him, you’ll need it. I didn’t believe it at first, either. I nearly froze my balls off, too.” Angel feigned horror. “Derik wouldn’t want me to freeze those off.” Derik laughed. “No, Derik wouldn’t.” Alex parked and they all got out and unloaded the gear. The sun beat on his back and Derik couldn’t wait to get inside and into the crisp air that always surrounded the ice. “Did you ever find out who else is going to be teaching at the camp?” Alex slung his pads over his shoulder. “A few guys from the local league team and Snyder,” Derik said the name as a sneer. “Fuck,” Alex cursed as he made a face. “Not a friend of yours?” Angel asked. “No way in hell. Not only does he crowd the net, but he loves to charge the goalie after the whistle’s been blown,” Alex bit out, his face tight with anger. “Plus, he has a nasty habit of swinging his stick 92

A Hundred Fires while we have the puck covered,” Derik added, thinking of all the bruises he’d got courtesy of the jackass. “I’m pretending I understand everything you are saying,” Angel said. Only Cristiano laughed. “Babe.” Derik looked wounded. “I showed you my best fights…I mean games on DVD last night.” Angel tilted his head to the side, looking at him. “You can’t be serious. We were naked in bed. I remember nothing else.” Alex joined in Cristiano’s laughter. “You’ll pick it up in no time,” Derik said. “Honest.” “And this Snyder, what’s wrong with him?” Angel asked. “Yeah, are you going to be able to behave yourself around him?” Alex’s lips curled up into a knowing smile. “I promised Rick that I would be good and not mess up his camp. Now, the exhibition game at the end of the week is a whole different story, though. I just hope Snyder and I are put on opposite teams, since they do frown on taking a swing at your own teammate.” “The nerve of them.” Angel grinned. “Next they’ll be asking you to stay in the net during the game and not skate out and challenge players from the opposition to a fight,” Alex 93

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht quipped, adding a heavy layer of sarcasm. “Oh, I get that email from the league daily. I just tell them to back off because they’re stifling my creativity.” Angel snapped his fingers. “I must remember that line the next time a referee tries to penalize me for hitting below the belt.” They walked into the rink. The lobby was nice, as far as rinks go. A snack shop off to the left, the other side taken up by a large room, filled with video games. When he’d been a kid, Derik had usually spent his entire allowance, feeding quarters into the machines that had been at his rink. He’d always made sure to save enough to get a slurpy, though. He’d lived for those things. The place was wall-to-wall kids and parents. Many of whom recognized Derik and Alex right away. A boy, who appeared around ten, waddled over. He wore a set of goalie pads that looked bigger than he was. Derik smiled when he noted his name and number on the jersey the kid wore. Even after all these years, it still humbled him when he saw a kid look up to him like that. The young goalie held an eight by ten photo up. “Will you sign this for me, please, sir?” Derik had to bite back the laughter when he saw the picture. Signing it, he held it out to Alex. “Here, since you’re in it, why don’t you sign, too?” Alex looked over then got a sour expression on 94

A Hundred Fires his face when he saw it was a shot of the one and only fist fight the two of them had ever gotten into. The one that not only did Derik win, but had been broadcasted nationally. In the picture, Alex was on the ground, Derik on top of him, fist drawn back to punch. Alex had his eyes closed, while Derik had a snarky grin playing across his lips. The poor kid’s eyes grew as large as his pads as he stared at Alex. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Hunter. I didn’t mean to diss you or nothing.” “It’s okay, that’s Alex’s favorite picture, too. He likes it so much that I email him copies of it whenever I see it on the internet.” Derik ruffled the kid’s hair. Alex still played the part of good sport and signed the picture. As he handed it back, he smiled at the kid. “See you on the ice.” Rick came rushing up. Once a professional player, he’d turned to coaching when an injury had cut short his NHL career. Good looking, with dark hair and eyes, he still had the build of a highly trained athlete. “About time you guys got here.” “Sorry, we made a little pit stop to Mexico on our way here.” Derik smiled as they shook hands. “Yeah, I saw it on Sports Center.” Rick glanced over to Angel. “Great fight, by the way. That was some knockout.” 95

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht “Thanks,” Angel replied, almost shyly. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in hanging around and speaking to the kids? Maybe run a couple of the dry land sessions?” “Dry land? You mean not on the ice? No, problem,” Angel immediately answered. “Better dry land for me.” He grinned. “I leave the real fancy footwork to Alex and Derik.” “Great! They’re going to love you.” Rick motioned for Alex and Derik to follow him. “I’ll show you guys to the coaches’ locker room. You’re due on the ice in thirty.” They said goodbye to Angel and Cristiano and rushed to the locker room, getting into their gear while Rick gave them a rundown of the drills they’d be responsible for running. **** As soon as they were alone, Cristiano blurted, “Alex says I should mind my own business, but I have to know. Are things good with you and Derik?” “Very good.” There was so much Angel wanted to say, about life, love, losing Cristiano…but this was a guy who’d had enough shit in his life. He didn’t need the burden of knowing Angel’s regret. He paused and Cristiano kept an eager gaze on him. He searched Angel’s face. 96

A Hundred Fires “You’re happy?” “I’m happy.” Angel looked at Cristiano for a moment. In the almost two years they’d known each other, they rarely talked about their private lives. Cristiano never ever hinted at problems in his relationship with Alex. Their only tremors occurred with separation due to training. Angel found it endearing that they preferred to travel together. He admired it. Now that they were alone, Angel felt the need to clear away the past. “How’s your mama?” Cristiano’s face clouded. “She’s still the same. Still with my stepdad.” He shrugged. “I didn’t even visit her this time.” Angel was surprised. She was his weak and blind spot. He loved his mother who, in Angel’s mind was an evil woman undeserving of his adoration. “She didn’t take my calls or return them, even though Alex and I are paying the bills on her secret cell phone.” “So you didn’t go visit her?” “No.” Cristiano was quiet. “Good. I think that’s very good.” Angel covered Cristiano’s hand with his own for a brief moment. “I wish I’d killed the bastard.” Angel had his shoulder torn up defending Cristiano who was taking a beating from his crazy 97

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht stepdad. Cristiano might have been able to handle it, but Angel knew the stepdad was barking mad. Crazy men were dangerous men. He stepped in and beat the crap outta the guy. And hurt himself in the process. “Hector, you know? My twin brother?” Cristiano asked. “Yeah. Who could forget that…conman?” “He’s not so bad. He moved to Barcelona. Married some girl. Maybe it’s better, you know, for me to move forward. Without him…without my mother.” “Your mother threw you out of the house when you were fifteen,” Angel reminded him. “She abandoned you. I don’t understand any mother doing that. You’re a good man, Cristiano. And you are my friend. I am sorry she couldn’t love you more, but you know, I think you found so much with Alex.” Cristiano smiled then. “I did. I really did. I really love him, Angel.” Angel nodded. “I know.”

98

A Hundred Fires

Chapter Five

D

erik’s heart skittered when he saw Angel touch Cristiano’s hand. He knew something had gone on between the two men before Cristiano had met Alex, and certainly nothing was going on now. So why did it hurt so fucking much? Focus, idiot. He skated out with the others. After they took the ice, the rest of the morning passed by in a blur as group after group came to Derik’s station. His favorite ones were the youngest kids. Some of them could barely stand in their full goalie equipment, let alone skate. Still to see the look of delight in their eyes when they made a save was a thrill. Even though half the time they made said save just because they’d been lucky enough to fall in the direction of the puck. When the whistle blew, indicating it was break time, Derik led his pack of mini-me’s off the ice. He went back to the locker room to take off his pads so he could eat before he went back out on 99

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht the ice. He walked to the lobby to find Angel. Derik was miffed, but not surprised to see one of the moms deep into conversation with Angel. She had on tight blue jeans, red high heels and a black slinky top. Derik felt both annoyed at her blatant dress and a little embarrassed for the poor kid who had to claim her as his. Angel, for his part, seemed to acting polite, but Derik could tell from his body language that he did not want the special attention he was getting from the woman. Derik sympathized. He’d been on the receiving end of many an aggressive admirer to know how awkward it could be. When she put a hand on Angel, her bright red nails trailing along his arm, Derik had enough. “Hey, Angel. Ready for lunch?” The woman’s gaze drifted over Derik’s way before a wicked smile curled over her lips. “Oh, look. It’s the Bad Boy of hockey. Today really must be my lucky day.” Derik had to work hard not to roll his eyes at her clichéd wording. Had she watched every Hollywood sports movies out there? “Sorry, ma’am. We have to go to a coaches’ meeting.” He gave his best, awh shucks grin. “Don’t worry. We have all week to get to know each other.” She gave a flirtatious wave before she left, her walk all hips and ass. “Does that happen a lot?” Angel slowly shook 100

A Hundred Fires his head as they watched her leave. “Some of the moms like to lay it on a bit thick. I should have warned you.” Derik held back a laugh. “Come on, you can’t tell me that’s the first time you had a woman throw herself at you?” “Of course not. It’s just the first time one has done it while her kid is standing there watching.” Derik noticed that Angel had changed into the same kind of workout pants and jacket all the other coaches were wearing. “I see Rick tagged you.” Angel looked down at the outfit. “Yeah, he got one for Cristiano, too.” “You know why they do that?” “No, why?” Angel grinned. “That way you can’t escape and try to teach at another camp. Now that Rick has you marked as his, he can just round you up like a lost calf from the herd,” Derik joked. “Like I would go to another camp.” Angel chuckled. “I wouldn’t be so quick to say that. There’s one full of college-aged gymnasts just down the road.” “You’re the only one I could ever want,” Angel said, suddenly serious. It was on the tip of Derik’s tongue to return the sentiment. At the last moment, he chickened out. “Come on, Alex and Cristiano are waiting.” 101

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht The week passed by quickly for Derik. He filled the days up with teaching at the camp, while he spent every night with Angel. Derik was shocked to discover he actually liked waking up in Angel’s arms. He loved their morning runs, their late night walks through the streets of Miami. Angel liked coffee late at night and they talked of the things that meant a lot to them. For Angel, it was Cuba. “The women there are very superstitious. If you ever go, you will see the women come out of their houses at noon and throw a bucket of water into the street. It’s a sign of good luck.” His mother, though a devout Catholic, followed a lot of superstitions from the Cubo-African religions. “She leaves fruit offerings for the gods. She does it all. She is petrified of bad luck.” Angel was a fascinating storyteller and the sex between them grew more insistent each day. They could not get enough of each other. More than that, he just plain liked having Angel around. Derik found that for the first time ever, he could totally open up to someone and be himself. Derik described his own fascination with Montgomery, one of the biggest communities near Cincinnati. “It used to be a coach stop a few hundred years ago and it’s still very quaint. I was lucky to buy a house when I was playing in 102

A Hundred Fires Cincinnati. I kept seeing this pretty house and one day I saw a For Sale sign. I love that house. It’s my sanity. I want you to see it, Angel. I think you’ll love it.” “I’m sure I will,” Angel said. There was something erotic about showing Angel his photos on his Facebook page, showing him Montgomery’s points of interest when they were naked in bed together. “Even the cemetery is classy,” Angel said as Derik licked a path up Angel’s hard thigh. “When I moved to Ohio, I thought I was making a mistake.” “Why?” Derik shrugged. “It’s a town full of families. And couples.” “And dead people. That cemetery is really crowded.” Derik laughed, moving between his lover’s thighs. “Think you want to visit me in the old stage coach town?” Angel scooted down so his mouth placed squarely on Derik’s taut belly. “Yes.” He kissed his way down. Derik remained in position as he waited for the moment of mouth-to-cock contact. It was like doing press-ups with a special reward on each uptake. 103

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht “Feed me,” Angel said, swallowing Derik’s cock head. Derik’s legs buckled. Angel worked on him at a feverish pace. Derik rolled back onto the bed. He tried to grab onto Angel’s cock, but Angel stayed just out of reach. Oh, man…Derik watched his lover suck him off. Angel just did it for him. “You enjoying yourself?” He chuckled. Angel came off his cock. “Oh, very much. I like the taste of you. You know…” He bent his head back to his task and came off again. “In Cuba, we have these candies.” “Oh…uh-huh.” Man, just suck me. Your tongue does amazing things to me. “They’re called capuchinos. They have them in every corner bakery. I haven’t thought about them for a long time. They’re cone-shaped. Very tasty.” Angel’s eyes were dark and intense. “You don’t say.” “Yeah. I say. I can taste ‘em even now, They taste like your cock. Rich, thick, sweet and delicious.” “My cock tastes like candies?” “Uh…yeah. Like cake. I can’t get enough of your capuchinos.”Angel bent his head again, this time, he didn’t come away. He sucked, somehow putting extra force around the rim, sending Derik’s ass off the bed and his orgasm deep down Angel’s throat. He felt his cock throbbing in 104

A Hundred Fires Angel’s ever-tightening mouth. Shit! Derik’s body just shook. “We must see if we can find those pastries in Little Havana,” Angel said, when he relinquished his hold on Derik. “You just taste so good.” As Derik listened to Rick give the farewell speech, he was almost sad it was the last day of camp. He’d grown close to all the kids and hated to say goodbye to them. It had been an eye opening experience for him and he wondered what it would be like to run a camp of his own someday. He made a decision to bring up the subject with Alex. With Cristiano and Angel’s help, they could make up a really great program. Derik started. Where did the idea that Angel would still be around next summer, come from? Sure, they’d had a wonderful week. The sex was beyond mind-blowing, but that didn’t mean they were going to get married or anything. So why did the thought of Angel flying back to LA while Derik went home to Montgomery seem so depressing? He cast a sideways glance at Angel. The boxer continued staring at the front of the room, unaware of the emotions currently battling inside Derik. God, I don’t think I can live without him. Derik’s 105

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht gut clenched in dread as he realized that as of tomorrow, he’d have no excuse to be around Angel. Could he take it if Angel just gave a casual goodbye and walked away without looking back? When the group broke up, Derik felt relieved to shake away of his troubled thoughts. The next hour went fast, as he, Alex and Angel signed all the kids’ camp jerseys and said good bye. Before he knew it, though, it was time to get ready to go leave to the bigger arena where the exhibition game was taking place. They piled in the car, he and Angel taking the back seat and made the drive across town. Thank God, Cristiano and Alex kept up the conversation because at that moment, Derik didn’t feel too chatty. When Angel reached across the seat and took his hand, Derik didn’t know whether he wanted to smile or cry. Don’t leave me, please. Damn, how he wished he had the courage to say those words aloud. Instead, he just kept his yap shut. Derik stood by Alex on the ice as the National Anthem played. Although it was just an exhibition game, Derik still had his pre-game butterflies doing the jitterbug in his stomach. Even though he wasn’t set to take the net until the second half, Derik shuffled his legs around on the ice as if he 106

A Hundred Fires was worried about his muscles tightening up. Across from them, the other team lined up. Both he and Alex had been pleased earlier in the week when they went to a practice and found that Snyder wasn’t on their team. Now, the punk glared at them, shooting them, let’s-fight looks, which in Derik’s opinion was a highly unpatriotic thing to do during the Star Spangled Banner. Even before the teams left the ice, Derik knew there was going to be trouble. Sure enough, as Snyder skated by Alex he gave him a hard jab with his elbow. “Is your little boy toy in the crowd watching, or is he back at the hotel sucking off some other guy?” Derik growled. That did it. Snyder could be a jerk all he wanted and he could give Derik the evil eye all day long, but no one…no one talked to his friend that way and got away with it. Shaking his blocker and catcher free from his hands, Derik took his helmet all the way off and skated over to Snyder. Giving the ass a big shove, Derik shot off his best shit-eating grin. The one he knew pissed his opponents off the most. The crowd was already beginning to react, rumbles rising up from the stands as several of the spectators jumped to their feet. “Hey, Snyder,” Derik drawled out his name, like an insult. “That wasn’t very nice.” 107

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht “Fuck you!” Snyder yelled as he shoved Derik back. “Not even with a six pack in me, asshole.” The two started to circle each other, fists in the air. By now, the noise from the crowd rose to a steady cheer. Hockey fans did love a good fight. Some things never changed. Derik laughed as he felt the high of adrenaline rush through his veins. Nothing like a good round of kicking someone’s ass to make him feel better. “Knock it off guys. This is supposed to be a fun, friendly game,” one of the refs pleaded, but he made no move to separate the two players. “Oh, come on, Hank. This is going to be real fun for me. I’ve wanted a go at this waste of space for a while now,” Derik countered. Due to his history, he was on a first name basis with almost all the officials. “Why do I even bother?” Hank threw his arms up in disgust. Derik and Snyder charged at the same time. Derik knew he had the disadvantage because he had to navigate around his bulky goalie pads. As a center, Snyder didn’t have nearly the same amount of gear on, but Derik was pissed and a dirty fighter, so he knew he’d come out of this on top. Snyder got the first blow, clocking Derik in the jaw. Derik shook his head, to clear free the stars 108

A Hundred Fires before he laughed right in Snyder’s ugly mug. Derik swung, his fist clipping Snyder on the right of his head. The center reached out and jerked on Derik’s jersey, making them both tumble to the ice. As they were falling, Derik twisted their bodies, so he ended up on top. Now the crowd was on its feet, chanting, “Fight! Fight! Fight!” as they pumped their fists in the air. A couple of the more rowdy ones pounded on the glass. Dimly, Derik could hear his own teammates egging him on. Seemed that he and Alex weren’t the only ones who hated the prick. Sitting up on his knees, Derik drew back his fist to hit Snyder until a wicked idea crossed his mind. Taking a page out of Angel’s book, Derik leaned down and pressed a hard, mocking kiss on Snyder’s lips. Snyder started yelling, calling Derik all kinds of interesting names as the refs finally pulled them to their feet and apart. “I can’t believe you did that!” Snyder screamed as he tried to lunge at Derik again. The ref tightened his grip, so Snyder didn’t get very far. “I’m more shocked at you. Don’t think I didn’t notice you slipping your tongue in there, you little slut, you,” Derik taunted as he let the ref drag him toward his bench. Actually, his jab wasn’t entirely without merit. Toward the end of it, he did sense Snyder start to 109

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht get into the kiss. Not that Derik would do anything about it. Even if he didn’t hate Snyder, the only one who interested him anymore was Angel. As he turned to face his bench, one of the coaches threw his arms up in disgust. “Really, Derik? Who fights during an exhibition game?” “Just making sure the fans get their money’s worth,” Derik said, as Alex handed him his equipment. Despite his flippant attitude, he did feel better when the ref announced that he and Snyder would be getting matching penalties. At least his team wouldn’t be down a man. The game turned out to be an exciting, close match. Both he and Alex only let in one goal apiece and it was tied until near the end of the third. In the last seconds, their team scored. Even though his team was now ahead, Derik still didn’t relax until the final buzzer sounded. He pumped his blocker hand in the air. Damn, call him petty, but it felt good to beat Snyder’s team. As they all lined up to congratulate each other, Snyder made a big show of lowering his arm and refusing to shake either Derik or Alex’s hand. When the crowd booed in disapproval, Snyder’s face grew red. “I guess he’s not getting an invite to my wedding,” Derik cracked. 110

A Hundred Fires Alex tilted his head to the side in confusion. “You’re getting married.” “No, but like Val said, it’s never too early to start crossing the jerks off the list.” After the game, they went out to dinner with several members of the team at Café Sambal in the hotel lobby. Since nobody could agree on any one place, they decided the hotel would work since everybody was leaving in the morning. Derik took Angel with him. All during the meal, Angel remained strangely quiet. At first, Derik just assumed it was because he didn’t know anybody. Or maybe he really didn’t dig sushi? He didn’t eat with his customary gusto. He picked at his plate, sipping a single beer all night. He seemed really down. When Angel continued to be quiet on the elevator ride back upstairs, Derik started to get more than a little annoyed. He’d just won a game. Didn’t he at least deserve an ‘atta boy or a congrats? Sure, it wasn’t for the world championship title, but it wasn’t exactly a pond pickup game, either. When they were alone in the elevator after a giggly celeb couple got out on the ninth floor, Derik finally confronted him. “Why aren’t you excited? Was watching a hockey game that boring to you?” “Did you have to kiss him?” Angel grumbled, 111

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht as he nervously shuffled his feet. Derik felt himself go slack-jawed with shock as he finally realized the reason for Angel’s sour mood. He was jealous. It shouldn’t have warmed Derik the way it did, but he couldn’t help it. “Why would that bother you? It was just something I did to get under his skin. Kind of like when I do that laughing thing in the other player’s faces.” “It matters because you’re mine,” Angel snapped. Derik ducked his head to hide his expression. A week ago, that comment would have scared the hell out of him. Now it made him so happy, he couldn’t stop grinning. “I swear it was nothing. You’re the only one for me.” “Do you mean that?” Some of the anger seemed to leave Angel’s face. Derik took a deep breath, then blurted, “I love you. Only you and no guy can ever take your place. Besides, you gave me the idea. You kissed your opponent on the goddam scale!” Angel grinned. “Did you see the look on his face? Like a little kid that just tried eating dirt from the garden. But wait a minute. I wasn’t with you then. I wouldn’t kiss another man when I’m....” Angel’s voice trailed away. He just stared at 112

A Hundred Fires him and didn’t say anything. Derik searched his face for a clue to what he was feeling, but Angel’s expression remained blank. The elevator doors pinged open. Angel grabbed Derik’s hand and practically dragged him down the hall to their room. The entire time, Derik’s heart pounded painfully in his chest. What if Angel didn’t feel the same way? Was he taking Derik to the hotel room just so he could let him down in privacy? Could it be that he’d misread all the signals Angel had been sending out and all this was just one week long hookup? They got to the room and Angel opened the door. It wasn’t until the door had swung shut, that he turned back to Derik. Angel kissed him, pinning him to the door so hard that his back hurt. Derik moaned, opening his lips so Angel could slip his tongue inside. Angel took his time, slowly licking every inch of Derik’s mouth. Almost as if he had to get rid of every trace of Snyder and claim Derik as his again. Pulling back, Angel gazed at him. Derik sucked in a breath as he saw the raw emotion on Angel’s face. Fanning his thumb over Derik’s lips, Angel whispered, “I love you, too.” “This is crazy. I live in Ohio and you’re in LA. How are we every going to make this work?” 113

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht Derik shook his head. Angel pinned him down with another kiss so heated, that by the time he pulled back, they were both panting. “We’ll figure it out,” Angel assured him. “But how—” Derik started, only to be caught short when Angel put a finger to his lips. “We’ll find a way. I promise you. All I know is that there’s no way in hell I’m giving you up.” With that declaration, the last little bit of doubt Derik had been clinging to, evaporated as he realized maybe all the crap he’d went through in the past few years had been so this moment could be possible. After everything Angel knew about him, he still saw Derik as worthy enough. Who was he to doubt the sincerity of Angel’s love? Especially when Derik was now certain he cared for Angel more than anything in this fucked up world. Angel grabbed Derik by the chin and slightly turned his head to the side. He gently kissed the punched jaw of Derik. At first, Derik hissed in pain as the tender spot got touched, then he moaned in delight as Angel gently licked and kissed the area. “Going to kiss it all better?” He laughed weakly at his lame wording. “Did he hurt you anywhere else?” “Nah, I took him down pretty quick. Other than 114

A Hundred Fires the one punch…” Derik trailed off when Angel cocked a brow and shot off a will-you-go-alongwith-this look. Giving a vigorous nod, Derik said, “Yes, my whole body is in really, really bad pain. I think you need to check it out.” Angel pulled off Derik’s shirt before he slowly began to explore and kiss his chest, his lips managing to cover each inch. Derik allowed his head to fall back against the wall as he closed his eyes in pleasure. Already, his cock pressed against his jeans so hard, it was the point of being painful. He yearned to reach down and rub it some to relieve some of the ache. As soon as he moved his hand to do so, Angel grabbed him by the wrist and denied him. “Please.” Derik realized he sounded whiney, but things had started to get pretty desperate. “No, that cock is mine, now, and only I give it pleasure.” Derik let out a little whimper of protest, but he obeyed and kept his hands away to himself. It got harder, though, as Angel continued to lavish attention to his chest and stomach. When Angel got really vigorous with the sucking, Derek moaned, “There goes going shirtless for the next few days. I don’t even want to know how many hickeys you’re giving me.” “Do you want me to stop?” Angel asked between licks. 115

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht “Are you kidding? No, it feels too damn good.” Derik did pause the action long enough so he could strip Angel’s shirt off, though. Nothing turned him on quicker than the sight of the boxer’s tight abdomen. Derik vowed he’d take his time later to slowly nibble that six-pack. Angle cupped the back of Derik’s kiss and brought him back in for another kiss before he pushed away from the wall. They started to stumble toward the bed, both of them clumsily kicking off their shoes along the way. Once they got to the edge of the mattress, Angel gave Derik a gentle shove. Derik fell back onto the bed and immediately got up on his elbows so he could watch Angel finish stripping. Angel eased his pants down, revealing his thick cock that already leaked with pre-come. “Wow, you’re not wearing any underwear,” Derik quipped. He gave himself an internal bitch slap. Would he ever learn not to blurt out the first thing that came to his mind? Angle didn’t seem to mind, though. He smiled as he crawled on the bed, his legs straddling Derik’s knees. “I just want to make sure you can get to me easily,” he said as he undid the button on Derik’s pants. “You should have told me that sooner. It would have made things a lot more interesting at the restaurant.” Derik gave what he hoped was a 116

A Hundred Fires wicked looking grin. Angel tugged Derik’s jeans and underwear down then tossed them to the side. “I got so jealous when I saw you kissing that jerk,” Angel confessed as he wrapped his fingers around Derik’s cock. “I’m sorry, really it didn’t mean anything.” Derik gasped as he thrust his hips up. He would have argued more, but Angel leaned down and took Derik’s cock deep into his mouth. After that, Derik couldn’t think, let alone have a debate. Hell, the whole hockey team, announcers and the zamboni could have paraded through the room and it still wouldn’t have registered. “Fuck,” Derik breathed as Angel sucked hard, his cheeks hollowing in. At the same time, he reached between Derik’s legs and squeezed his balls. Derik let out a sharp cry as he jerked. Already he felt himself reaching the edge, as the pleasure became almost too much. It almost seemed like Angel was trying to make Derik come in a matter of seconds. Angel lifted his fingers to Derik’s mouth who immediately opened his lips and took them in, swirling his tongue around each digit. Little whimpers were bursting from his chest, the sound muffled against Angel’s flesh. Once his fingers were wet, Angel took them out and moved them down to Derik’s ass. 117

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht A broken moan of passion slipped past Derik’s lips as one finger slid into his hole. All the while, Angel continued to nearly devour his cock, his teeth, and tongue working Derik like never before. Derik threaded his fingers through Angel’s dark hair and urged him on by thrusting up his hips. For the first time ever, Derik felt as if he could be free with his wants and needs—that he didn’t have to guard himself anymore. This is friggin heaven. Why was I so afraid of this? Derik silently questioned himself. Derik jumped as Angel thrust another finger into his ass. The burning lash of pleasure had Derik biting his bottom lip as he fought not to come. It felt so damn good to be with Angel like this, that Derik never wanted it to end. “Please, babe, I need you to fuck me,” Derik begged in a broken voice. Angel pulled back, Derik’s cock leaving his mouth with a loud pop. “Go get the stuff.” Derik got up and rushed over to his carry-on bag, grabbing the lube and condoms. When he returned to the bed, Angel rolled on his back and crooked his finger at Derik. Heart pounding with excitement, Derik obeyed getting on the mattress and crawling over Angel. He dipped his head down, pressing his lips against Angel’s soft mouth. “Say it again,” Derik demanded in a near 118

A Hundred Fires whisper. “I love you.” Angel ran his fingers down Derik’s side, making him shiver with passion. Derik started slowly to nuzzle his neck, savoring the smell that was Angel. “I love you so much.” He trailed kisses down Angel’s chest, stopping to suck on his nipples. It wasn’t until Angel started to pant and writhe that Derik finally straightened and used his teeth to tear open the condom. As he slid it over Angel’s shaft, he allowed his fingers to linger a little longer than necessary. “Hurry,” Angel urged, his breath hitched when Derik slathered lube on his cock. Grabbing the base of Angel’s shaft, Derik lined it up to his ass then slowly impaled himself on it. Once he’d taken all of Angel in, they both groaned in unison. Derik paused, savoring the burning pleasure of Angel’s cock filling him. It wasn’t until Angel thrust his hips up once, that Derik took the hint and started to rock. “You look so perfect like that,” Angel rasped as he fisted Derik’s cock. Derik gazed down at him, a sense of satisfaction going through him when he saw Angel’s eyes darken with passion. How the man’s lips were kiss-swollen. The way Angel managed to look strong, yet sensual at the same time. 119

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht And he’s all mine, too. Nobody has his love but me and it will always be that way. Derik started to move faster as the need built up in him. Angel used his free hand to grab Derik’s hips and started to thrust up to meet the strokes halfway. With the other hand, he continued to stroke Derik’s cock, his strong fingers making a heated friction that drove Derik wild. It finally became too much and Derik had to give in to the orgasm. His cock erupted, thin ropes of semen hitting Angel’s chest. After a few more thrusts, Angel’s body grew tight before he shuddered and his cock pulsated in Derik’s ass. Angel closed his eyes for a second as he took a couple deep breaths. “Damn, Derik. If that’s Ilove-you sex then I can’t wait for our first afterfight-make-up fuck fest.” Derik sat straighter on his knees, so Angel’s cock slid free. Rolling to his side, he grabbed a pillow and bunched it up under his head. “Sorry, not to be one of those guys, but I really am tired. Between the game, the fight, and that amazing sex we just had, I am drained in more ways than one.” Angel chucked before he gave Derik a small kiss on the cheek. Derik closed his eyes, not even cracking his lids when Angel got up and went to the bathroom. After a few minutes, he came back and crawled into bed with Derik, pulling the 120

A Hundred Fires covers over both of them. After a week of sleeping in the same bed, it seemed so natural to Derik to snuggle into Angel’s chest. With Angel’s warmth surrounding him, it only took Derik a few minutes to drift off to sleep.

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A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht

Chapter Six

A

ngel couldn’t remember feeling this horrible when he left Mariposa to go to training camp in Mexico. No, he hadn’t. He remembered being excited about the future. His fantasy had been to move Mariposa, the girls and his mom to a mansion in Beverly Hills. In time, if he still wanted it, he could probably get that mansion. All he could think about now was how awkward things were between him and Derik when they said goodbye. They’d exchanged addresses, phone numbers, email addresses, and Angel promised to visit Derik in Montgomery. Derik was getting ready for his big season. Angel was going to get therapy for his shoulder, get back into training. And take yet another frickin’ fight. He thought about how excited he’d been to go to Mexico. He’d been on the Cuban team and knew that he couldn’t trust anybody with his secret. He realized with dismay that he talked to 122

A Hundred Fires very few of his former teammates. He knew there was both resentment and jealousy. He closed his eyes. A smile came to his face remembering how nice it had been waking Derik with kisses. I should be tired but he energizes me. I love him. He tried finding something to watch on his personal screen. Oh boy, when he got back home, Willie would have him on his crazy diets and back in training again. He wondered what Montgomery, Ohio was like and if there were any boxing gyms there. But Derik hadn’t invited him to move there. He just said a visit. Yeah, but when? **** “You know, I wish you two would have an argument occasionally ‘cos you’re really making me sick.” Cristiano pushed his sunglasses up to the top of his head and sat up. Well, as best he could with Alex draped all over him. “Angel’s only been gone an hour and you’re already grumpy?” Derik threw the Sports Illustrated he’d been reading onto the ground. “I need a twelve-step program. An Angel intervention.” 123

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht Cristiano laughed, but Alex didn’t. He moved around on the chaise on their private balcony and rose, an obvious erection protruding from his shorts. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s leave the love addict to pine.” He reached under his towel and tossed Derik his cell phone. “Call him, will ya? Fly out there. Get with the program because life’s too short.” Alex’s words fell away as Cristiano dragged him inside. Derik heard their laughter. Could he…would he go? He flipped open the phone. He realized quickly it was Cristiano’s phone. Alex and Cristiano used almost identical phones, the last two digits of their numbers transposed. The phone rang and he squinted at the readout. Willie. 911. 911? What the hell kind of emergency could it be? Angel was still in the air. The phone rang a second time. Should he answer it? Willie could only be calling in case of an emergency to do with Angel. His Angel. He took the call. “Hola,” he said, practicing the only clean Spanish word he knew. Angel had taught him some dirty ones this past week, words Angel instructed him to use only in bed with him. 124

A Hundred Fires Willie jumped into a rapid stream of Spanish. “Wait…Willie, it’s me, Derik.” “Derik?” Willie paused mid-flow. “Hockey player, Derik?” “That’s me.” “Where’s Cristiano?” “He’s…ah busy right now.” Derik could hear the unmistakable cries of passion coming from the room behind him. His plane didn’t leave for another four hours. He might leave right now and wait at the airport. He could stand all the lovemaking anymore. “Is everything okay, Willie?” “Did Angel leave?” “He’s on his way back.” “And Cristiano is busy?” “I can get him…Willie, what’s wrong?” “It’s Ofelia.” “Who?” “Ofelia. Angel’s mother.” Willie’s charming accent made it sound like muth-air. “What’s going on?” Willie took a sharp breath. It sounded like chalk scratching a board. “She’s been injured.” Derik felt his stomach drop. “In the march?” “Yes. I got a call from Angel’s sister. Angel’s wife has disappeared.” 125

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht Derik felt faint. “His…wife?” “Yeah you know…Mariposa.” “No. I don’t know.” Geez…a wife. “They finished a long time ago. She’s with a whole different guy now. Anyway, Angel sends her money to take care of his mom. She just vanished. The sister says the mom is all alone and she was hurt in the protest. I was hoping Cristiano could go into Cuba with me and get her. I have a friend, an attorney who says we can bring her back here on compassionate grounds because the police arrested her right after the protest. We can argue for political asylum.” Derik felt rage course through his body. Angel paid his ex to care for his mom and she’d vanished? “Willie. Let me help. I have my passport right here because we went to Mexico. Let me go bring her home.” “You…would do that?” “Of course. Angel’s my friend. I love him…I want to help.” “But you don’t speak Spanish.” “Cristiano and I will go.” Willie paused. “I will pick up Angel at the airport. We’ll fly to Miami and meet you when you come back. I will have a lawyer waiting in Havana to meet you.” “You’d do that for Angel?” 126

A Hundred Fires “This is our one chance to help her. Listen, I love him, too, though I think not the same way you do.” Derik laughed. “I hope not, otherwise I’d have to beat you up.” He made fast arrangements with Willie, exchanging numbers. They would keep in touch via cell phone. Derik rushed into the room where Cristiano rode atop Alex’s body. Derik glimpsed Alex’s cock disappearing into Cristiano’s ass. “Are you crazy?” Alex asked, gripping Cristiano to him in a protective way. “Get outta here! “Sorry, cowboy. We’ve got an emergency.” “Emergency?” Cristiano turned, sweat streaking down his face. Derik nodded. “We’re flying to Cuba. We’re going to rescue one of the Ladies in White.” Derik didn’t know what to expect flying into Cuba. He, Cristiano and Alex got a fast education. They couldn’t even book through any online sites, no matter what Cristiano tried. They had to buy tickets at a licensed travel agency. They found one in Little Havana, thanks to the concierge. Derik remembered his restaurant suggestion and was wary, but they had no choice. 127

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht The travel agent was waiting for them when they arrived. She explained they would need to fly to either Nassau or Cancun and from there, into Cuba. There were no direct flights from the US into Cuba. They would also require Cuban visas. She was glad to arrange these in an emergency for a few extra bucks. Valid for thirty days, she advised them not to overstay the visa, not that any of them were planning to. She managed to get them on an Air Mexicana flight later that day into Cancun. From there, they’d have a two-hour wait before boarding their flight into Havana, via the same airline. “You’ll need a place to stay, right?” She booked the trio into a casa particular in Havana, which she said was a very nice bed and breakfast type place located near the address Willie had given them for Ofelia. She also booked them a rental car. “Take cash, in small denominations. US dollars are very acceptable.” She looked each of them in the eye. “It’s practically impossible for you to use your credit cards there so get plenty of cash and er…keep it safe.” The three friends packed in record time and hustled to the airport in a taxi. Derik fretted that they wouldn’t find Ofelia, or that they wouldn’t be allowed to bring her back. Even worse, what if she was dead or dying? 128

A Hundred Fires “Don’t think negative thoughts,” Cristiano said as they waited to get through security at the airport. “How do you know what I’m thinking?” “I’m a boxer,” Cristiano said. “We read people.” “You and Angel both.” Cristiano grinned. “Who do you think I learned it from?” Derik’s cell phone rang. It was Angel. “I can’t believe you’re doing this for me,” were his opening words. “I love you. I think I mentioned that, right?” Angel was quiet. Derik felt his partner’s pain. “She’s going to be fine,” he said with a conviction he didn’t yet feel. “Willie and I are on our way back. I wish I could see you.” Angel sounded wistful. “I really miss you.” Derik fought to stay positive on the short flight to Cancun. He talked with Angel the second they landed, but he, Alex and Cristiano felt stressed out until they finally landed in Havana. It was hot and muggy the second they stepped out of the plane and walked across the runway to the building ahead. All his clothes clung to him, but Derik was relieved when they had no trouble at immigration and they got their rental car, surprisingly a pretty decent sedan. 129

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht It was late when they arrived, eleven PM, but the city of Havana was jumping. They found their way to the casa particular without much trouble. Thank God Cristiano spoke and read fluent Spanish and had a sense of direction. The casa particular was tucked into a narrow street located in the neighborhood of Vedado. It was close to midnight when they pulled up outside the quaint-looking building. It was quiet, but the local square was jumping. Their landlady showed them their room. Inside were a double bed and a single bed. A fridge, a couple of fans that were frankly going to be useless in the extreme heat and a small sofa and a couple of chairs, made up the rest of the furnishings. They had a nice clean bathroom. “You’re going to be okay in here?” she asked, sounding anxious. “I hope you all don’t mind sharing. It’s the only room left.” She showed them around. The house was clean and very comfortable. “Should we go look for Ofelia?” Cristiano asked. They all wanted to, but when they called Willie, he urged them to wait until the morning. “She’s not at the house. I had the neighbors check. They have all your cell phone numbers. They know to call you. She went to a friend’s 130

A Hundred Fires house because she was afraid to be alone. “ He sounded bitter. “She said she’s been getting harassed. You can imagine what that’s doing to Angel.” Willie had to go. He and Angel were about to board the red-eye into Miami. “The attorney is waiting to hear from you. Call him in the morning,” was the last thing he said. All they could do now was sleep. And wait. Cocks crowing at the base of dawn woke the three men in the room. They all awoke at the same moment, looked at each other and laughed. They took turns in the bathroom, showered, changed and checked their phones—no messages from anybody. Keeping their wallets, phones and passports on them, they went to investigate breakfast. “I probably can’t get online here so I won’t even try,” Cristiano said. “Or should I?” he asked their landlady, who told them to call her Lola. She had made coffee. Four couples from all over the world filled her home, but the only other American couple apart from Alex and Cristiano had come from Pittsburgh and this was their third visit to Havana and to Lola’s. “You can use my computer,” she said. “If you need to check emails, no problem.” Cristiano went to check as Alex and Derik 131

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht milled around the huge living room. The happy sounds of the radio and cooking made Derik feel relaxed. He was glad they were here. He would be even happier when he could put his arms around Ofelia. “No news. Nothing,” Cristiano said when he returned. Lola rushed in with bowls of scrambled eggs, spicy sausage and sweet toast and coffee. It was the perfect start to the day. Eager to explore, Alex, Cristiano and Derik left their room, grabbed one of the photocopied street maps Lola gave her guests and they walked out, looking for Ofelia’s street. “God, it’s just like Miami,” Derik said. “I was just thinking the same thing,” Alex said with a laugh. “In the light of day, I see these tall white buildings…the palm trees. An upscale Little Havana.” Cristiano studied the map. “Wow, she’s only six blocks away. Should we walk or drive?” “Drive,” Alex said. “If she’s injured, we may need to bundle her in the car.” Cristiano called Ofelia, reached a machine, and left her his cell phone number. They drove to her house, a neat little box on a street called Calle. She still wasn’t home. Her neighbors came out, one woman carrying a 132

A Hundred Fires broom. She looked like she would use it, too. Cristiano spoke with her in rapid fire Spanish. “She’s staying with a friend in the country. Until she speaks to Angel herself, she won’t tell us where she is,” Cristiano reported to Derik and Alex. As if on cue, Derik’s cell phone rang. It was Angel, sounding hoarse and utterly exhausted. “We just landed. You have no idea. We couldn’t land. We circled for hours. Then they diverted us to another airport. Still couldn’t land. Now we’re in Fort Lauderdale and they’re busing us back to Miami.” Derik quickly told him what was going on. “Let me speak to her.” Within minutes, the neighbor was satisfied. She gave them the address where Ofelia was staying. Cristiano beamed. “It’s Cojimar!” “Is that meant to mean something, darling?” Alex asked. Cristiano was practically doing the Snoopy dance. “Cojimar!” he said again. Even the lady with the broom laughed. “It’s a seaside village. Hemingway lived there. It was his inspiration for The Old Man and the Sea.” “Now I get it.” Alex’s smile was wide. To Derik he said, “He’s doing his thesis on Hemingway.” 133

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht He turned back to Cristiano. “Lead the way, sexy pants.” Once again, Derik took the wheel and Cristiano bent over the driving map. “It’s about fifteen miles from here. Shouldn’t take us too long. Guess what, we’re about to see parts of Cuba most visitors don’t see.” They headed north along the coast. It was spectacular. At last they reached the village and had to stop and ask several times for directions, but Derik almost laughed when a woman came out of a house with a red handkerchief, some fruit and a couple of palm fronds. “That’s her.” Cristiano said something, but Derik threw the car into park in the middle of the street and got out. “Ofelia.” She turned slowly, as if in a dream. “Si,” she said. “I’m here for Angel. I’ve come to take you home.”

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A Hundred Fires

Chapter Seven

O

felia cried when Derik held her. Her injuries were obvious—bruises on her arms and legs from an obvious beating. She wobbled from an obvious limp. “Your foot is really swollen,” Derik said. She shook her head. Cristiano repeated Derik’s words in Spanish. “I speak English a little,” she said. “I watch Desperate Housewives!” She looked a lot like Angel. A smaller, skinnier version, but she was a feisty woman. He held her as she talked to Angel on the phone. She was afraid to return to Havana, so they all stayed with her until they could make arrangements to meet with the immigration attorney. Angel was a wreck back in Miami. “Willie’s flying over there. I can’t handle this. I feel sick. Is she okay?” “Yes,” Derik said. “She’s doing great. She was 135

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht leaving an offering to the gods when I found her. Angel laughed then. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Derik had to agree. At last, the attorney called them. They were to meet him at his office in Havana. Cristiano persuaded Ofelia to come with them. Nobody was going to hurt her. She was safe now. Poor Cristiano might have been in his hero’s paradise, but he wasn’t able to see none of it. They headed back to Havana. At the attorney’s office, he took photos of Ofelia’s body. Cristiano stayed with her as she removed some of her clothing. He looked shaken when he reported to Alex and Derik that she looked even worse underneath her long dress. A doctor came in to examine her and filed an official report. “She says the police did this,” Cristiano said. “I’m a boxer. I know from beatings I gave and received. I can’t believe she’s even walking. She’s got cracked ribs. A sprained foot—” “Thank God Angel isn’t here,” Derik said. “He’d kill somebody.” The doctor dressed Ofelia’s wounds. She’d been treating herself with homemade remedies but she looked a lot happier when Cristiano put a bag of frozen peas against her now-bandaged ankle. They returned to Ofelia’s house with her. “You’ll need to pack,” the attorney had told her. 136

A Hundred Fires “Take only what you need.” It was obvious that the police targeted Ofelia because of her prominence as Miguel Angel Marquez’s mom. At her house, they ransacked a virtual shrine to her son, much of her memorabilia. “Oh, yes,” she told Cristiano. “They grabbed me and went straight for all his trophies and medals.” She packed a small bag. She said she didn’t regret leaving Cuba. She’d been very lonely and confessed to Cristiano that Mariposa grudgingly helped her occasionally, but had moved to a big house. “All that money my son gave her. She bought a fancy house. She cut off her phone numbers. I can’t reach her.” After her arrest, Ofelia said she’d been abducted in the middle of the night and beaten. She woke up in a ditch and walked for miles to her neighbors. She packed a few remaining ribbons and a trophy of Angel’s. Derik saw a few childhood pictures of his boyfriend. He was a gorgeous kid and an even more wonderful man. “Take them,” Cristiano said. “She’s in a daze. We need to get her out of here.” They gathered Ofelia and her belongings. She 137

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht gave her neighbor her house key and they returned to the casa particular. The three friends packed. Lola was dismayed. “It was a three-night minimum. No refunds.” “That’s no problem,” Derik said as they tossed their belongings into the car. They drove to the attorney’s office. “I have a friend you can stay with,” he said. “I hope to get you out of the country tonight.” The friend had an apartment several blocks away. It was a holiday-type apartment. They trooped up to the first floor and found the hidden key. They unlocked the door. Ofelia limped to the sliding glass doors, her little hands pressed onto the glass. She stared at the magnificent ocean view. “My son,” she said. “My son.” A couple of hours later, Alex and Cristiano went and bought some food. Ofelia lay on the sofa, her foot raised and trussed in bags of frozen peas and ice. Derik stayed with her. A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. He opened it. And almost fell over. There stood Willie, his three sons, and Baby Willie, brandishing a candy cigar. Derik had to laugh. 138

A Hundred Fires “You’re all here?” “Of course. My sons have to see Cuba.” Ofelia sat up. She looked so excited, until she realized Angel wasn’t with them. Derik called Cristiano and told him to bring extra food. “No need,” Willie said. “I took care of all that.” Alex and Cristiano returned empty-handed, just as large deliveries of food arrived. “You like chicken?” Willie asked Ofelia after he examined her bound foot. He didn’t like the way the doctor had dressed it and re-did it himself. Derik noticed a bit of chemistry going on there. Oh, boy. They tucked into plates of chicken, rice, black beans, and plantains. Baby Willie played with the empty box used to bring in the food. He climbed into it, hiding, thinking nobody could see him. Every now and then, his little face peered over the edge and if one of the adults in the room made eye contact, he slid down again, giggling. At last, late that evening, they got the call. They were on the next flight out of Cuba. Ofelia and her entourage flew to Cancun. She clung to Cristiano’s hand and then Willie took over, swapping seats with him. Derik watched them together. They would make a damned 139

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht handsome couple. He wondered how Angel would feel about it. Well, Angel liked Willie. Derik wondered how long Willie would last in that traveling van if things worked out with Ofelia. First things first. They had to get her to Mexico. Angel waited at the small airport in Cancun. He couldn’t believe this day had come. It wasn’t America…yet But she was out of Cuba and he would soon see her. The plane was about to land. His heart raced. One day, he would return to Havana and avenge his mother’s beating. But for now, she was safe. She would soon be here. He felt the tears hovering close. He could never thank his friends enough for what they had done for him, or his mother. He smiled, thinking about the way she described Derik, Alex and Cristiano as three beautiful angels who emerged from their shiny new car and rescued her. “They are so handsome,” she said. Now she talked non-stop about Willie and his boys. Willie. Was he imagining it or was she kinda sweet on him? The plane landed. He fully stopped breathing until he saw her, poised between Willie and Cristiano, the entire troop following. He rushed to his mother, who sobbed in his arms, screaming his 140

A Hundred Fires name repeatedly. “I’m here, Mama. I’m here.” She clung to him. He could not stop hugging her. Then he became aware of Derik and had to hold him, too. He didn’t care who saw him kiss the man. He loved him. Derik had done the impossible for him. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you.” Derik hugged him hard. “You are definitely not American,” Derik said, when Angel got his arms around him. “If you were an American, there’d be news crews here. Cameras…” “Not me,” Angel said. “I just brought my mariachi band.” He indicated Willie’s musicians who all rushed over to greet them. “I’ve gone through hell, waiting.” Angel wouldn’t let Derik go. “You wanna show or tell me about that?” Angel laughed. “It depends. How much you remember all of the naughty Spanish I taught you?” “I remember all of it,” Derik said. “Dirty words are the easiest to remember.” **** Since both Derik and Angel thought it best that 141

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht Ofelia get checked out by a doctor first thing, it was late by the time they got everyone situated into their hotel. When Derik finally had Angel all to himself, he attacked him, pulling at his clothing. “Easy,” Angel teased, even as he started to tug of Derik’s shirt. “I’m sorry. It’s just I missed you so much.” “God, I missed you, too.” Angel’s confession set Derik even more on fire and the urgency built, both of then quickly stripping each other. Derik assumed that they’d move over to the bed. Derik was surprised when Angel slicked on a condom and then bent him over the desk by the window of the hotel room. Angel quickly pressed inside, Derik thrusting back to meet him halfway. “You feel so good,” Angel breathed as he ran the palm of his hand over Derik’s ass. “Show me,” Derik demanded, echoing his earlier words. Angel moaned before he started to pound into Derik. “Love you,” Derik bit out as he gripped the edges of the desk for purchase. Angel muttered something in Spanish that Derik couldn’t translate as he continued to thrust forward. The sounds of flesh hitting flesh mixed in with their moans. Derik knew his wasn’t going to last long, but he 142

A Hundred Fires couldn’t make himself ask Angel to slow down. Not when they both needed this so badly. Derik cried out as he came, even without a hand on his cock. He shot all over the desk, making a real interesting mess they’d have to deal with later. At that moment, though, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Angel continued to thrust into him. Derik reached behind and grabbed the boxer by the ass, urging him on. Finally, after a few more thrusts, Angel’s breath hitched as he found release, too. As he came, Angel moaned, “Love you, too.” After a shower, they settled into the bed, Derik lying in the warm cocoon of Angel’s arms. “When do you have to go back to Ohio?” Angel asked, as he ran his fingers up Derik’s arm. “Pre-season starts in September.” Derik sighed as he realized he’d soon be leaving Angel again. It’s not like he’d just up and leave for LA either. His contract with the Ohio team was for five years and he’d just signed it at the end of the previous season. “Wait right here. I got us a present.” Angel gave him a kiss before he got out of bed. Derik flung his arm over his eyes as he waited. God, this just sucks. Leave it to me to fall for someone I can’t ever really have. He was so lost in gloomy thoughts that he jumped when something small 143

A.J. Llewellyn & Stephani Hecht bounced off his stomach. Sitting up, he picked it up, frowning when he saw it was a credit card. “What’s this?” he asked still frowning as he studied it. Angel climbed back on the bed and wrapped his arms around Derik’s chest. “I got that for us to charge our plane tickets whenever we visit each other. Of which, I hope we’ll be doing a lot of.” “I can afford to pay for my own flights. The NHL doesn’t exactly pay me minimum wage.” “I know, but I thought if we had this in our wallets, we’d always be reminded that we’re only a short plane ride apart. I know it won’t be easy, but I love you and I know we can make this work.” Derik smiled, a warm feeling replacing some of the despair he felt earlier. Stupid how something so small could make him so happy, but it did. “Are you sure? Because I’ll be coming every time I get a chance. I might become a pest.” Angel gave him a long lingering kiss. “Positive.” “What did you say to me earlier, when you spoke in Spanish?” Derik asked, as he rested his head against Angel’s shoulder. “I told you that you were my life, my reason for living.” He paused. “Is that sappy or what?” “No, because I feel the same way about you.” Nothing could be more true, either. Before 144

A Hundred Fires Angel, Derik had no idea of how powerful love could be. Now that they had each other, he knew nothing would ever tear them apart.

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About the Authors A. J. Llewellyn lives in California, but dreams of living in Hawaii. Frequent trips to all the islands, bags of Kona coffee in his fridge and a healthy collection of Hawaiian records keep this writer refueled. A. J. loves male/male erotica, has a passion for all animals (especially the dog, the cat and the turtle). A. J. believes that love is a song best sung out loud. A. J.’s website is located at: http://www.ajllewellyn.com A. J. can be reached at this email: [email protected] Visit his MySpace page at: www.MySpace.com/ajllewellyn Stephani Hecht is a happily married mother of two. You can usually find her snuggled up to her laptop, creating her next book. Visit Stephani on the web at: www.stephanihecht.com http://www.myspace.com/stephanihecht Email her at: [email protected]