Charm City

by Mason Dixon

  Pepper had been representing King’s crew for about six months. She was undefeated and all her wins had come by knockout, but Raq thought that had more to do with the quality of Pepper’s opponents than her power. She’d know for sure, though, the first time she got hit.

  “Touch hands, go to your corners, and come out fighting,” the referee said.

  “You’re going down,” Pepper said as she pounded her fists against Raq’s.

  “Is that a prediction or an invitation?” Raq asked, blowing her a kiss.

  Pepper snarled and backed away. People who fought angry were easy to beat because they made too many silly mistakes and left themselves open.

  “Three rounds?” Raq said under her breath. “I could take her out in three seconds.”

  When the bell rang, she was tempted to rush across the ring and show Pepper what real power was, but seeing Ice in his ringside seat reminded her what she had been asked to do.

  Pepper came at her with a flurry of punches, windmilling her arms like a teenage girl in the middle of a schoolyard brawl. Raq either ducked the punches or let them bounce harmlessly off her shoulders. Halfway through the round, Pepper was gassed and holding on to her just to stay upright. When Raq pushed her off, Pepper nearly tripped on her own feet and went down.

  “Do you want to change your prediction?” Raq asked after the bell rang to end the round.

  Pepper’s chest was heaving and she was breathing through her mouth, both signs of fatigue. “Next round.”

  Raq nearly laughed out loud. Maybe Ice was right. Stringing the fight along would increase Pepper’s misery—and her enjoyment when she finally put her out of it.

  As she stood in her corner, she watched money change hands, Ice’s men collecting from people who had bet on a first-round knockout and come out on the losing end.

  “When did you turn into a dancer, Raq?” someone called out as he grudgingly paid what he owed.

  “Can you blame me?” Raq winked at him. “Take a look at my dance partner.”

  Pepper pointed across the ring and spit on the canvas. “Shut your fucking mouth, puta, or I’ll shut it for you.”

  Pepper’s visible anger riled up the fans even more. Ice smiled as more bets were laid down. Raq should have known better than to question his business sense, because when it came to making money, there wasn’t anybody better at getting that shit done.

  When the bell rang for round two, Pepper rushed her again. Raq turned all Floyd Mayweather on her, bobbing and weaving, landing a jab or two to piss her off, then dancing out of reach to piss her off even more.

  “Are you going to run all night, or are you going to fight me?” Pepper asked after she managed to get her in a clinch.

  Raq threw Pepper’s own words back at her. “Next round.”

  She was so eager to get the fight over with, she almost couldn’t stay in her corner between rounds. Pepper looked like she actually thought she had a chance to win, but she had no idea what she was in for.

  The bell rang, signaling the third and final round. Raq turned to Bathsheba to make sure she was watching. Like they had been all night, Bathsheba’s eyes were on her. Watching her. Seeing flashes of what she could do. Now she was about to see her at her best.

  Raq looked at Ice to make sure there hadn’t been a last-minute change in plans. When he gave her the nod, she felt like a kid on Christmas morning. She bulled forward and met Pepper in the center of the ring.

  “It’s about time.”

  Pepper smiled as if she’d finally gotten what she had been waiting for, but when she drew back to throw a right cross, Raq was the one who felt like celebrating. She took a step to her right and threw a short punch that landed on the side of Pepper’s jaw. Pepper’s eyes glazed over and she went down like she’d been shot.

  Raq raised her arms in victory as the referee counted to ten. He could have kept going to a thousand and Pepper still wouldn’t have gotten up in time. She was still woozy when a couple of King’s men picked her up and dragged her toward her dressing room. Raq suspected she’d be seeing stars for a while. She’d clocked Pepper a good one and her hand still throbbed from the blow.

  “That’s my girl,” Ice said. His voice was quiet, but it somehow carried over the roar of the crowd.

  Raq sought out Zeke next. “You could have gotten that done in round one,” he said. He was sitting with his arms and legs crossed and one foot was twitching like he had a nervous tic. He was frowning, but she could see the smile in his eyes.

  “Next time.”

  She sought out Bathsheba last. Most of the females she kicked it with asked her why she did what she did. Bathsheba’s expression said she already knew. For the sense of accomplishment that came from proving you were better at something than someone else was.

  Raq patted the air with hands that had already started to swell. “Wait there. I’ll be right back.”

  Bathsheba nodded in response.

  Raq headed for the dressing room, accepting congratulations from well-wishers in the crowd as she went. She washed up with water from the sink, changed clothes, and joined Bathsheba in the audience. “You came,” she said, taking a seat in the chair Bathsheba had saved for her.

  “I told you I would. Didn’t you believe me?”

  Raq had grown so accustomed to people breaking their word she didn’t know how to react when someone actually kept it. “You look good.”

  “Thanks. So do you.”

  Raq was wearing Tims, jeans, and a red Henley. She would have preferred a hoodie or her Ravens jersey, but the dress code at Club Peaches banned both. “Do you want to get out of here, or do you want to stay and watch the other fights?”

  “Now that she’s seen the best, why worry about the rest?” Ice asked in his Denzel Washington voice. Raq hadn’t seen him walk up on them or sensed the crowd part to give him room. “Nice fight, Raq. Who’s your friend?”

  Raq felt Bathsheba stiffen next to her. Ice had that effect on people. She provided introductions like she was the hostess of some weird-ass cocktail party.

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Bathsheba. Any friend of Raq’s is a friend of mine.” Ice stood back and gave Bathsheba an appraising look. “I hear you’ve been working out at Pop’s. You look like you’re in great shape. Do you fight?”

  Bathsheba shrugged. “I’ve mixed it up a time or two. Just not in the ring.”

  “Do you want to get in the ring?”

  “I haven’t thought too much about it.”

  “You should. If you decide this is what you want to do, let me hook you up. I recognize potential when I see it, and I like to see it rewarded.”

  When Ice reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, Raq hoped Bathsheba would refuse it. She didn’t want her to get caught up in this business. Her face was too pretty to get rearranged.

  Bathsheba turned the card over in her hands indecisively. “What would I have to do?”

  “Whatever he tells you to do,” Raq almost said.

  “Raq can tell you how everything works. If what she says interests you, give me a call and we can talk specifics.”

  He was still using his Denzel voice. Raq hoped he didn’t think he could use it to get into Bathsheba’s drawers because she had already called dibs on those.

  “Have a good evening, ladies. If you’ll excuse me, I have some business I need to attend to.”

  Bathsheba looked starstruck as she watched him leave. Raq couldn’t compete with Ice’s money or his power. Few could. Raq lowered her head. She felt like Ice had stolen her shine.

  Then Bathsheba turned to her and said, “How about that drink?”

  Chapter Five

  The music was bumping and the dance floor was crowded. While she waited for Raq to make her way back from the bar with their drinks, Bathsheba watched dozens of people perform the synchronized movements of the latest line dance. She knew how to do the usual party favorites—the Bus Stop, the Cha-Cha Slide, the Cupid Shuffle, and the Wobble—but the new
dances were beyond her. They were fun to watch but hell to learn.

  She could feel Ice’s card burning a hole in her pocket. She wanted to pull it out and put it to use right away, but she didn’t want to appear too eager. If she were as indecisive as she was pretending to be, she needed to let some time pass before she acted on the offer she had been given.

  She wondered what Ice had in mind for her. Did he want her to be Raq’s contemporary, or her successor? Did he want them to fight alongside each other or against each other? Raq was probably wondering the same thing. She hadn’t had much to say during the short walk from Pop’s to the club. Bathsheba was still trying to earn her trust, and it was already being tested. She needed to figure out how she was going to play this unexpected card she had been dealt and she needed to figure it out fast.

  She walked the edges of the dance floor, trying to find an empty booth.

  “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

  The question made Bathsheba stop in her tracks. The club was packed, filled with people she didn’t recognize, but someone had apparently recognized her. She slowly turned to see who had spoken, hoping against hope she wasn’t about to come face-to-face with someone from her past.

  The speaker was a young woman who didn’t look old enough to drink, despite the colorful cocktail in her hand. Her clothes were too tight and too short, and either her heels were too high or her drink was too strong because she was unsteady on her feet.

  “I do know you, don’t I?” she asked with a hopeful smile.

  “No,” Bathsheba said, loosing a sigh of relief, “I can honestly say we’ve never met before.”

  “Oh, my bad.”

  “But keep trying, though. I’m sure there’s someone here tonight who can’t wait to get to know you.”

  “Thanks.”

  As Bathsheba slid into an empty booth, she remembered when she was young and yearning. She had made sure not to move too fast, but she didn’t think her young friend could say the same.

  “Was Cinnamon bothering you?” Raq asked when she finally showed up with the drinks.

  “No, she was just saying hello.” Bathsheba took a sip of her drink. Just a tiny one, though. Alcohol dulled the senses and she needed to keep her wits about her. “Cinnamon. Is that really her name?”

  “Yeah. She has sisters at home named Sugar and Spice. They’re twins, but they aren’t identical.”

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  Raq broke into a smile. “Yeah, I am, but I had you going for a minute, didn’t I?”

  “That you did.”

  Raq spread her arms across the back of the booth. “Are you going to take Ice up on his offer?”

  Bathsheba tried to read her, but Raq’s poker face was too good. “I don’t know. What do you think I should do?”

  Raq shrugged and reached for her drink. “What works for some people doesn’t work for others. You might like it. You might not. Everybody’s different.”

  “It works for you, though, right? You seem to be doing okay.”

  “I can’t complain.”

  “So tell me how it works. Do you have a say in who you fight?”

  Raq shook her head. “The promoters book the fights and the fighters fight. Sometimes, I don’t know who I’m going up against until I step into the ring.”

  “How do you know what to expect?”

  “I don’t. That’s what keeps things interesting.”

  “How’s the money?”

  “The money’s good, but you won’t get rich doing this, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “So even if I say yes, I won’t be trading my apartment in the complex for a penthouse downtown any time soon.”

  “Not unless you know something I don’t.”

  “I doubt that. You’ve been at this a lot longer than I have.”

  “Are you thinking about doing this full-time or do you have a steady gig and you’re just looking for some excitement?”

  Bathsheba trotted out her cover story. “I do some office work part-time. It’s a temp job that pays the bills, but it doesn’t excite me, you know what I’m saying?”

  “Yeah, I know. I saw your face tonight when I was in the ring. I could tell you know how good it feels to prove yourself against someone one-on-one. But have you thought about what you’d say to your boss if you showed up at the office with a black eye and a busted lip? If he thinks your boyfriend is tuning you up, he might march you down to the police station and make you fill out a report.”

  “I doubt it. Once he found out I prefer to date women, he stopped asking me questions about my personal life. But you’re right. If I show up with bruises, I’ll have to tell him something. What excuse do you use?”

  Raq shifted in her seat. “I don’t keep office hours, so no one cares what I look like during the day. Besides, I haven’t had a black eye since I was fifteen and that one didn’t come in the ring.”

  “How did it happen?”

  Raq cracked her swollen knuckles. “My old man ran out when I was two. My mother had a string of boyfriends after he left. Her last one used to use me as a punching bag because I wouldn’t put out for him. That shit stopped right quick as soon as Pop taught me how to lay that motherfucker out. Ice heard what happened and set me up with my first fight. The rest, as they say, is history. What’s your story? Are your people from around here?”

  “I grew up on Bradford Street, but we didn’t stay in one place long enough to call any of them home.”

  “I hear you. Sounds like we both had it hard coming up.”

  “No doubt, but a difficult past makes for a sweeter present.”

  “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Raq slid closer. “The day we met, you said I had to earn my time with you. How am I doing so far?”

  “Well enough that you don’t have to ask.”

  “That good, huh? Would you like to dance or should we skip straight to the after-party?”

  Raq leaned in for a kiss, but Bathsheba stopped her by putting a finger against her lips.

  “Why don’t we try the appetizer before we start in on dessert?” She pulled Raq out of the booth and onto the dance floor.

  “You’re only delaying the inevitable, you know.”

  “What’s the matter?” Bathsheba moved her body to the music, rolling her hips to the rhythm of the thumping bass line. “Don’t you think I’m worth the wait?”

  Raq’s eyes moved hungrily over her. “I know you are. That’s why I don’t want to wait.”

  Teasing her, Bathsheba stroked Raq’s earlobe and sensually ground her hips against her. When she felt Raq start to respond, she moved away. “What did you say in the ring? Next round.”

  Raq grabbed her and pulled her to her as the music slowed. “I’m going to hold you to that,” she said as her hands locked around Bathsheba’s waist.

  Bathsheba ran her hands up the rippled indentations in Raq’s stomach and circled them around her neck. “I hope you do.”

  Raq leaned back and gave her an appraising look eerily similar to the one Ice had given her back at the warehouse after Raq’s fight. Raq not only took her cues from him, she seemed to get her moves from him as well. He was obviously much more than her employer. He was her mentor and idol as well. Coming between them might be harder than Bathsheba had expected.

  “Do you want me to come with you when you talk to Ice?” Raq asked.

  “I haven’t made up my mind yet about meeting with him. How do you know I’ll decide to hear what he has to say?”

  “You’d be crazy not to. Look around. No one else around here is hiring. And if I go with you, I can make sure he offers you a good deal. It won’t be as good as mine, but I’ll see to it he treats you right. Then I can take you under my wing. Look out for you. Show you the ropes. Make you my protégée. Isn’t that what they call it?”

  “You’d do that for me?” Bathsheba stroked the back of Raq’s neck, feeling the corded muscles move beneath her palm.

  “That and a wh
ole lot more. If you let me.”

  Raq’s voice deepened and her eyes went dark. She leaned in for a kiss like she had in the booth. Bathsheba backed away once more, but she knew she couldn’t put Raq off forever. She had to do enough to keep her interested, but how long would it take before Raq started asking for more?

  “You mean to tell me I haven’t earned a kiss yet?” Raq asked.

  “Ask me after we talk to Ice and we’ll see.”

  Chapter Six

  “Bathsheba’s brand new to the game, but I know she could be something special. You don’t want her making money for someone else, do you? We need to lock her down before King gets his hands on her.”

  The leather chair creaked as Raq sat back in her seat. She wasn’t much of a public speaker, but she thought she’d done a pretty good job laying out her case for bringing Bathsheba into the fold.

  “We?” Ice snapped his fingers, and one of his bodyguards rushed over to refill his highball glass with Scotch. “Are you trying to be the leader of this outfit?” he asked after he took a sip of his fresh drink. “Because I thought that job was already taken.”

  “I’m not trying to step on your toes, Ice. I told Bathsheba I’d look after her, and that’s all I’m trying to do.”

  “Did you take a trip to DC and get married or something? Because you’re acting like she’s your personal property.”

  “Nothing like that,” Bathsheba said, the first words she’d spoken since she and Raq had set foot in the apartment. Raq turned to look at her. Bathsheba looked awed but not overwhelmed. That was a good sign. If she couldn’t stand up for herself, she wouldn’t last long. “Yes, Raq and I have been out once, but one date or a hundred, no one owns me.”

  Raq nodded in agreement. Bathsheba was fine, all right, but she wasn’t trying to wife her up. She was glad they saw eye to eye. She couldn’t imagine putting a ring on anyone’s finger. What did marriage get you? Nothing, as far as she could tell, except pussy-whipped.

  “That’s good to hear.” Ice turned his attention back to Raq. “Since you don’t have a vested interest in today’s proceedings, I need you to step out for a minute so Bathsheba and I can talk in private. Hercules will show you to the elevator.”