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Daniel
Daniel woke to the late morning sun streaming in through his window and hitting him right in the eyes. He groaned, throwing the covers over his head, then just as quickly throwing them off, sitting up, and looking around the room. The sun’s rays seemed to taunt him, reminding him of brighter times… happier times. He used to love December. His parents had been a mixed marriage of “we only went to church on Christmas and Easter” and “we only went to temple on the High Holy days.” Thus, they celebrated what they wanted, how they wanted. Their family holidays were a strange mix of the two. There was a silly Jewish star advent calendar, and a stubby Christmas tree covered in ornaments that he and his sister had made in school alongside an electric menorah. They all loved to sing every single crazy and sweet holiday song that came on the radio.
He rubbed his chest as he recalled the deep bass of his father’s voice melding with his mother’s alto in perfect harmony as they sang their favorite song: Walking in a Winter Wonderland. Daniel and his sister, Debra, would chime in on the chorus sometimes, but more often than not, they let their parents have that one and then joined in on the next song. There had been holiday movie marathons… andholy shit, was the Ghost of Christmas Past going to show up any second now? He bolted out of bed, determined to at least be dressed, just in case.
Thinking of angels… Daniel smiled, remembering how Theo had seen him safely home and into bed. He’d fallen asleep with Theo’s weight beside him, the delicate stroke of fingertips caressing his brow. Come to think of it, he hadn’t slept that well since… well, since… He sighed. Forever. Since his parents’ deaths, at least. There’d been drugs then. And alcohol. And then the gambling and rising debt, and hitting rock bottom. That was followed by March employing him.
While witnessing the destruction wrought by the vile Mr. March and his men, Daniel had slowly cleaned up his act. He stopped drinking away his paychecks and hit up a few AA meetings. Whenever he had to head into the office, he kept his butt in the elevator, skipping the casino floors. He wanted out; he just didn’t have the money or connections to do so. With March gone, he thought he might have had a chance until Troy sent his goons to collect him. Every penny he’d saved, he ended up owing the hospital after defying his boss and Bull’s subsequent beatdown. He wished that had been a dream and not his miserable reality.
And now he’d dragged Theo into his mess. He should have done more to convince Theo not to take Troy up on his offer. Those fights were brutal, and they scared the ever-living shit out of him. There had to be another way.
The faint ping of his phone distracted Daniel from making his coffee. He tossed the measuring spoon onto the counter and went in search of the rogue device, finding it on the far bedside table… the one he didn’t use, but would have been closer to Theo if the angel had fallen asleep.
The phone’s notification flashed red, so even before swiping it on, he plugged it in to charge. He was shocked to see it at three percent, and happy that he caught it in time. Mr. Troy didn’t like it if he wasn’t always available.
A slew of previews lined his screen. He chose Theo’s first to read.
You’re kinda cute when you sleep. See you tonight.
There followed a picture of Daniel curled around his pillow, which meant that Theo had a picture of him now. Did angels even need cell phones?
Sabre texted that he’d told Troy about his not feeling well and leaving early and that Troy gave him a pass since he’d brought in a new fighter.
The next message Daniel opened was from his boss.Good job bringing in a new guy. I like him. I expect to see you working the door tonight. Sabre will cover during Theo’s match so you can cheer on your friend.
Daniel didn’t know what to feel after reading Troy’s text or the ridiculous eggplant, peach, and winking emojis that followed. On the one hand, he got off on the praise. Lately, he seemed to be doing everything right in his boss’ eyes. He got the money from the salon. He’d fulfilled his duties collecting money at the door, and he had apparently presented Theo on a silver platter for the ring. His mind conjured the image of blood trickling down the angel’s face from a surefire punch to the nose, and his stomach twisted. Theo’s regal nose looked like it had been broken before, yet it suited the Viking of an angel.
Now why the heck was he picturing Theo flying, his wings outspread, wielding a battle axe?
On the Fourth Night of Chanukah
Tuesday: Sunset
Thelial
Arriving in a dark corridor, Theo recognized the hallway as the one he’d traversed the night before when escorting an ill Daniel away from the fight club. Sensing this shouldn’t be the way to enter, since he wasn’t supposed to know about it, he quickly exited into the garage and then wound his way to the front entrance, where he saw Sabre and the other guard. Satisfied he’d made the right choice, he raised a hand in greeting.
Sabre gave him a tight smile and jerked a thumb at the guard opposite him. “That’s Bull.” He motioned for Theo to step closer and when he did, Sabre leaned in. “Stay clear of him if you can. He’s Troy’s man, through and through.”
Theo filed that away as he inquired where should he go. After receiving directions to the locker room, he wished them an easy night and headed inside. He stopped by Daniel’s table, hoping to catch a glimpse of his mate, but after a few minutes passed without him appearing, he moved on.
The locker room was already occupied by fighters, trainers, and coaches. A man in scrubs checked over the fighters, inspecting bruises and sutures, and watched over the wrapping of wrists and ankles.
“You must be our fresh blood.”
Theo turned to face a man almost as tall as him, definitely wider. He might have been impressed if he also hadn’t noticed the gut on the elder greying gentleman. Sporting a cocky grin, he shoved out a hand. “Name’s Theo, and yeah, this is my first time.”
“Ooo… a virgin.” The guy threw back his head and guffawed at his ridiculous joke—not even knowing how true it was—as he shook Theo’s hand in a steel grip. “Don’t let the pretty boys hear.” He winked, then sobered. “I’m Walt. In here, you do as I say. I make sure wraps are done right. Solid. No metal or shit like that. When it’s over, if I say you need stitches, you get ‘um. If I say you need the hospital, you go. Nobody dies on my watch. ‘Eh, plenty of broken bones, though.”
Theo swallowed. “Sounds good.”
Walt chuckled. “It don’t, but it is what it is. I got a spot for you over here.” He led Theo across the room to a set of open lockers. “Let’s see what you’re wearing. You got a cup on, right?”
“A cup?”
“Gotta protect the family jewels.” Walt crudely grabbed his crotch.
Theo shifted his legs as he watched Walt, suddenly feeling uncomfortable… down there. He touched his groin, and encountering a rigid cover, he knocked on it. “Cup.”
