Full Body Contact

by Carolyn McCray

  Well, screw ’em.

  Dekker fell back onto the bed as Jaws readjusted his big snout. Finally, they could get back to sleep. He cracked open an eye to check the time. 12:11 p.m. flickered back at him. Wait. He hadn’t gone to bed until 3:30 a.m.

  He jerked upright. “Shit!”

  Jaws whined, trying to readjust and find a nice, soft spot again.

  “How’d you let me sleep so long?” he chided the dog. Usually the beast was up at the crack of dawn.

  Dekker pushed himself out of bed and strode across his loft to the kitchen. Empty Jack bottles littered the floor. An empty pizza box lay open on egg crates that served as his coffee table. And then there was the weight bench and heavy bag. His in-home studio.

  Tugging open the refrigerator door, he searched for something edible. “Time for breakfast, huh?”

  Cracking six eggs into a dirty glass on the counter, he chugged the slimy brew.

  “Hmm … not bad,” he said, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. Dekker set the glass down on the floor for Jaws. He tousled the pit bull’s ears. “Now it’s time to sniff out Ratface.”

  * * *

  Alexis looked at her watch. Ten after one. She impatiently tapped her foot while Nick was on the phone. As of ten minutes ago, there was still no word on Reggie. Beck stood on the opposite side of Nick’s desk.

  This meeting needed to wrap up quickly if she was going to have time to change and get over to the studio.

  “Thanks,” Nick said into the phone. “Call me if you get anything else.”

  Alexis asked, “Well, did they find Reggie?” before Nick could hang up the phone.

  “No,” Nick answered slowly. “They’ve raided all his usual hangouts, but they can’t shake him loose.”

  Beck placed his palms on the desk. “How about the hospitals and morgues?”

  “Nothing yet.”

  “Sounds like he’s gone underground, then,” Beck concluded.

  Alexis shook her head. “But why? He couldn’t have known that we were looking for him.”

  “I don’t think he’s hiding from us,” Nick corrected.

  Her partner didn’t have to clarify who Ratface was hiding from. But would Dekker be that incredibly stupid to go after Reggie right after a fight like last night? With a witness? She probably wouldn’t find out sitting around here.

  “I’ve got to go,” she said, standing up. “My lesson is in—”

  Nick blocked her exit. “Alexis, we can’t afford to have you wind up missing.”

  She didn’t bother to respond to Nick. He wasn’t the one making the decisions.

  “Sir,” she said to Beck. “You said if nothing panned out with Reggie, then I would be going back in.”

  “That I did.” Beck pinched the bridge of his nose. Right about now he was probably wishing that he hadn’t promised her father that he would look out for her. “Be careful,” he added.

  Alexis opened her drawer and grabbed her purse. She needed to get out before Beck changed his mind.

  “I’m good to go,” she declared.

  Nick shook his head, though. “I wish I could be so sure.”

  “It’s a lesson in broad daylight with a nice old lady as a witness. Nothing’s going to happen. I promise.”

  Seeming resigned, Nick asked, “You’ll tell me everything that happens at dinner, right?”

  “Right,” she reflexively answered. Anything to get out of here.

  Without a backward glance, she left the station.

  CHAPTER 6

  As Alexis entered the studio, she found it empty—except for Dekker working out at a punching bag. His fists jabbed at a speed that nearly blurred the motion. His breath hissed with each jab. The muscles in his back bulged with each movement. Each one was precise in hitting its target. She imagined him using that force on someone’s face.

  He picked up a towel and swiped across the back of his neck, and then pressed it to his face. When he pulled it away, he caught sight of Alexis.

  Dekker glanced up at the clock, his mouth curled up in a half smile. “I was just about to give up on you.”

  “But I’m ten minutes early.”

  “Like I said, you’re late.” He wiped his taut six-pack of a belly. “Someone like you, I expected at one-thirty.”

  Alexis’ lips drew downward. “I’m not always that predictable.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Dekker said as he tossed the towel to the floor. “Now let’s work on some combinations, shall we?”

  As Dekker demonstrated a jab with his right arm, then a hook with his left, Alexis noticed a long cut on his forearm.

  “Ouch. What happened?” she asked, pointing to the wound.

  “Oh, I went to take care of a squealer, and we got into a wicked knife fight. I got slashed before I took him down.”

  Even though she willed them not to, Alexis knew that her eyes dilated. Was he talking about Reggie? Was that why they hadn’t heard from Ratface? Was Dekker giving a confession?

  “Humor, remember?” Dekker chuckled. “Joking, hon. Damn, woman, you really need to lighten up.”

  What was it about the way he called her “hon” that made her muscles clench? And was it out of fear, or something else?

  “You are such a sucker, lady.” He motioned toward the vending machine across the studio. “I was moving the machine and a piece of steel caught my arm.”

  She followed the direction his arm was pointing, and there it was. Shining under the fluorescent lights. A thick shard of jagged metal protruded from the side of the machine.

  Coincidence, or convenient?

  Alexis met Dekker’s questioning gaze. Trying to keep the doubt from her voice she said, “Sorry. I’ve just heard so many stories …”

  For a moment Alexis thought she saw pain in Dekker’s eyes, but in a blink his warrior mask was back on. “Don’t believe everything that you hear … or do, but know that there is always another side to the coin.”

  Blushing, Alexis dropped her gaze. She shifted from foot to foot. Was there another side to Dekker? Could a boy raised in violence find peace as a man? If he was innocent, what was his life like? Always judged, put under a microscope, and dissected. And here she was spying on him.

  “I’ll keep that in mind …” she said.

  “Good enough,” he said turning back to the punching bag. “Now back to combinations.”

  “Come on, what else?” she coaxed.

  Dekker’s eyebrow went up. “Such as?”

  “I don’t know,” Alexis said with a smile. “I was thinking about a little sparring match … with you.”

  “Spar?” Dekker chuckled, shaking his head. “With me? You are learning about the whole funny thing.”

  Alexis bounced on her toes, dancing from side to side, shadowboxing. She flicked her nose with her thumb. “Too scared?”

  His eyebrow shot up even higher. She guessed many people didn’t challenge Dekker like that. She wasn’t even sure why she had, but she had to commit to it now.

  “Afraid of the damage I could do?” she taunted.

  Dekker spread his arms wide. “Do your worst.”

  Panting out three quick breaths, Alexis spun on the ball of her foot, gaining momentum until she lashed out with a spinning back kick. Unfortunately, her aim was off a bit. Clearly, Dekker didn’t think she could miss by that wide a margin, either, because he couldn’t duck in time as her blow clipped him in the teeth, splitting his lip.

  Blood spurted across the bright blue mats.

  “I’m so sorry!” Alexis cried as Dekker tapped the wound with his finger, which came back red. She knelt down and picked up Dekker’s discarded towel and tried to put pressure on the wound. “Let me.”

  But he brushed her efforts aside. “It’s nothing.”

  “But if you don’t get that stitched up, it’ll scar.”

  “Please,” Dekker snorted. “Look at this face. One more will hardly be noticed.”

  This close, Alexis could see every scar on his face.
They seemed to want to tell her a story. A story filled with pain and violence.

  Dekker put his hand over hers. Heat flared up her arm and settled in her groin.

  “But I must admit,” he whispered, “I’ve never had one caused by such an attractive opponent.”

  His head tipped a fraction of an inch closer to hers. She didn’t stop him. Why wasn’t she stopping him? Their eyes met and he held her gaze as he leaned in further. Undercover work required cops to put themselves in all kinds of messy situations—intimate situations. Seduction was not an uncommon tool. However, Alexis didn’t exactly feel in control as their breaths mingled. Then blood dripped from his lip onto her hand.

  Brought back to reality, Alexis backed away.

  “You shouldn’t have let me hit you like that,” she said to cover her discomfort.

  Dekker shook his head. “I didn’t.”

  “Really?” Alexis retorted. “Exactly how many world championships do you have? I don’t want you going easy on me.”

  “I’m not,” he said gruffly.

  Alexis studied Dekker. He was pissed, but she had no idea why. “But then, how did I—”

  Dekker strode to the water fountain and took a big gulp of water. He swished a mouthful, and then spit it back out, red staining the basin. Swiping his hand across his mouth, he leaned his back against the wall, and looked past Alexis’ shoulder.

  “I’ve taken a lot of hits over the years. One of them ...” Dekker paused.

  Alexis wasn’t sure that he would finish. His eyes were unfocused, seeing through her to a different time. Pain etched his features again. How many horrible memories could one person hold onto before they themselves became horrible?

  “I’ve got a blind spot on my right side.” Dekker pushed off the wall, acting as if nothing had happened.

  This time, though, when she approached with the towel, he didn’t push her away. She gently blotted his face, cleaning the stream of blood off of his cheek. He sucked in his breath when she pressed the towel to the cut on his lip.

  “You should have told me.”

  “So … you wanna know all my secrets?” he asked, husky and oh so close.

  “Most of ’em.”

  Dekker pulled Alexis’ hand away from the cut and pressed their bodies together. “I liked seeing the fire in your eyes. It felt good, didn’t it? To feel that connection of your fist and my face?”

  When she didn’t answer, he brought his lips up to her ear and whispered, “Didn’t it?”

  It did feel exhilarating. Was that what attracted fighters to the ring? The power, the thrill, the domination over another? All of that came with being a cop, but this was different. This seemed … forbidden. She could still feel her heart pounding in her chest. Or was that because Dekker’s ripped body leaned against her in all the right places? An equally forbidden feeling.

  A shy smile spread across her face. “A little, yeah.”

  Dekker opened his mouth to speak, but his eyes snapped to the door as it opened. A couple of students, gym bags slung over their shoulders, stepped into the studio.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Dekker said. Linking his fingers with hers, he walked toward the door.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, trying to keep up. Alexis should have released his hand. But it felt natural to hold it. To let Dekker take control.

  He glanced over with a mischievous smile as they stepped out onto the street. “We’re going to get you whipped into shape for the next stage.”

  Alexis looked up at Dekker, shading her eyes from the sun. She asked warily, “Next stage?” She pulled them to a stop. “And what’s wrong with my shape?”

  Dekker looked her up and down appreciatively. “It needs a slight whipping, but I’ll go easy on you.”

  * * *

  Dekker led Lexie to the park around the corner from the studio. A couple lounged on a blanket, eating a late lunch. An elderly woman sat on a wooden bench, reading. Kids laughed in the distance, chasing each other around the playground.

  He glanced at Lexie out of the corner of his eye. Her hair was pulled back in a messy knot. He figured that if she let it down, it would tumble down just below her shoulders. Her cheeks were rosy. Not from makeup, but from the heat of battle. Such power in such a timid package.

  The jogging trail was just ahead. Dekker lifted an eyebrow to Lexie, before running up the dirt trail. She quickly matched his pace and fell into step next to him. They ran for a while, matching strides and falling into complete synchrony. The anger he had felt back at the gym faded. He’d never been angry with Lexie. Hell, he goaded her into nailing him. He’d been mad at himself. It was so easy to forget he’d grown older. Soft. Lax. That a lightweight like this had made him taste blood was a serious wake-up call.

  Dekker stopped on the trail. Lexie jogged in place a few paces ahead of him.

  “Why’d you stop?”

  “Time for your lesson.”

  “Here?” Lexie asked, looking around.

  In answer, Dekker circled her, throwing air jabs at her. Her eyes widened as he grazed a light blow off her shoulder.

  Frowning, Lexie put her fists in front of her face. She tried to stalk Dekker. Tried to get a bead on him. He threw an uppercut, and she threw her arm down—blocking it. Lexie feigned a right jab, and then followed with a left hook. Dekker easily dodged it. He would not make the same mistake that he made in the gym. She was untrained, but had some natural talent.

  Lexie threw another punch at Dekker’s head. As he ducked, he swept his right leg into Lexie’s, throwing her off-balance. Before she could fall, Dekker caught her. Pressing his body over hers, he pinned her to the soft ground.

  Her face flushed in anger, Lexie tried to push Dekker off. He held her hands in a tight grip over her head. As he leaned closer, Lexie’s body stilled, her chest rising and falling with each breath. His lips just inches from hers. He could feel the pulse in her wrists quicken as she licked her lips. Her tongue almost touching his.

  He tilted his head, as if he were going to kiss her. Only he gave her a valuable lesson instead. “Tip of the day. Never let your guard down. Got it?”

  Lexie gave a grunt. She ripped her hands out of Dekker’s grasp and shoved him to the side. Standing, she brushed leaves and dirt from her pants.

  “Loud and clear,” she replied.

  Hmm. Could it be that stiff little Lexie actually wanted a kiss from Dekker, the big, bad wolf? She turned her back to him, though, not allowing him to get a read on her. Which made him all the more intent on getting one on her.

  But duty called. His students would begin to wonder if he’d skipped town. “Come on, I have to get back to the studio.”

  Dekker went to put his hand on Lexie’s back to escort her down the trail, but she quickened her pace, striking out ahead of him.

  * * *

  Alexis entered the gym with Dekker right behind her. When she looked back at him, it was hard to imagine that he was the same man who’d admitted his weakness just a few minutes before. But as soon as he entered the studio, his relaxed posture became rigid. His face hardened like a stone slab.

  He didn’t even give Alexis a backward glance as he approached his students.

  “Wait! When’s my next lesson?”

  Dekker’s eyes swept over her face. She tried to remain calm, cool, and not at all flustered by his gaze. “You ready for the next stage?”

  “You know I am.”

  “Yesterday, you said that you wanted to see some of my more …” Dekker lowered his voice. “Dangerous moves. Still game?”

  Alexis had already seen some of his more dangerous moves. Those usually landed people at the least in the hospital, at the worst in the morgue. The sound of men sparring filled the gym, making it all feel too real. Their grunts and groans had probably kicked up a notch when Dekker had entered the studio. But if Alexis was going to find out what happened to those other men and Ratface, she had to go along.

  “Bring it.”

  “Go
od,” Dekker replied, placing his hand on the small of her back as he led her to the door. “There’s a match tonight. Thought you might want to see those techniques in action.”

  “I didn’t hear about any competition going on.” Any major event would be cleared through the department. Cops needed to patrol the event.

  Dekker chuckled at her naïveté. “Honey, this ain’t going to be on no ESPN. It’s a live street match.”

  “Aren’t those illegal?” she blurted.

  “Why? You a cop?”

  Shit. Beck was wrong. In some ways, she did think like a cop. Damn it, how could she walk that back? Out of ideas, she channeled Callie, her roommate.

  “Yeah right! You wish you could find a girl with her own set of handcuffs.”

  Dekker winked. “How right you are. Give Agnes directions to your place. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  Uh-oh. This was not good. A suspect knowing where she lived.

  “Um. I don’t like guys coming to my house. How about I meet you here?”

  Unwavering, Dekker ordered, “I’ll pick you up.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  Dekker turned away from her and walked back to his class. “Then, I guess you won’t be going …”