by Marie York
“Sal, talk to me, baby.”
“I got two fights set up for you. Both next month, one at the beginning the other at the end. One in Reno and the other in San Diego.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Who is it?”
“Tanker and Biggs. You’re going to have to drop seven pounds to go against Biggs so stop with the carbs and beer two weeks before, so you make sure you hit weight. We don’t want to take any chances.”
“No problem.” I was used to dropping and gaining weight. I didn’t need two weeks. I could do it in a week, but Sal worried about every little fucking thing. I told him he needed to take some Xanax, or he’d be dropping dead of a goddamn heart attack before he hit forty.
“There is one other thing.” The tone of his voice turning serious.
I didn’t need the dramatics just get to the damn point. “Yeah?”
“Seth ‘King of Kings’ Kingston’s agent reached out to me. He wants to set something up.”
“And you’re just telling me this now?” Seth was the Brian “Brick” Johnson of the South, and I’d been dying to get in the cage with him. He was an arrogant douchebag that talked more smack than a twelve-year-old girl on the playground. I wanted to pummel his ass. Declare another victory and get my name traveling across the circuit more than it already was.
Nobody got to the top by standing still. Each victory brought me closer to my ultimate dream and I was ready to take down whoever stood in my way.
“Book it,” I said.
“Here’s the thing. Seth is known to harass his opponents. Find their weak spots before a fight and use it against them. And I’m not talking about a bum knee or a strained shoulder. He gets in their heads, and plays mind tricks, getting their focus off of the fight.”
No wonder people were so scared to fight him. Fucking pussy. If he needed mind games to win, then taking him down would be easier than I thought. “Lucky for me, I have no weak spots,” I spat into the phone.
“Everyone does,” Sal said. “Family?”
I practically laughed into the phone. “Hate them.”
“Girlfriend?”
I had no idea why Brooklyn popped into my head. I barely even knew the damn girl. It was probably because she told me she’d never be one of my whores. Women didn’t cast me aside, they fought for my attention. Or maybe it was because she was first on my schedule today. Either way, it didn’t matter. I had much more important issues at hand.
“You’ve known me for over a year. Do you really have to ask that question?”
“A girl from the past? Some deep dark secret you’re harboring?”
Never had more than a casual fling with a girl, and I didn’t do secrets. At least not secrets that could be used against me. “Book the fight, Sally D.”
“I’ve told you a million times not to call me that, Viper.”
“Then stop acting like a goddamn chick, and book the fucking fight already. Let me worry about the rest.”
“Alright, fine. I’ll call his agent back and see what his schedule looks like.”
“Now, was that so hard?”
“Fuck you. I’ll call you when I have more info.”
I hung up, slid my phone back into my pocket and headed into the gym. I needed to work out a meal plan for Brooklyn before she got here. In our last session, she had told me she wanted to build up her strength, and shed a few pounds. I wasn’t sure how much she had to lose since her clothes were so fucking baggy and she refused to get on the goddamn scale. She swore it had nothing to do with me seeing because she didn’t care if I knew her weight, but she didn’t want to know what it was. I told her she made no fucking sense, but she wouldn’t budge.
So I sat at the desk, guessed she was 5’3 155 pounds, and, because she said she was a waitress and on her feet for a good portion of her day, I aimed for a 1400 calorie diet. I wrote it all down and finished just as she walked in the door.
I was so used to seeing girls in spandex and barely-there outfits that I kind of found Brooklyn’s baggy shirt and sweatpants… cute. Undressing her would be like a present because I’d have no idea what I’d be finding once the wrapping was gone.
“Morning,” I called out, and she actually smiled. It surprised me at how it lit up her entire face. It was like she was a different person. Who knew that hiding beneath the scowl was a beautiful face? A face that made me think of peaches and cream. She wore no make-up yet her complexion was flawless. Made me want to touch her to see if she was as soft and smooth as I imagined her to feel. And her lips were lightly glossed and looked so kissable I wanted to sample them to see if they tasted as good as they looked.
What the hell was I thinking? I didn’t do sappy. I was not that guy. Yet here I was waxing poetic about this chick who made it perfectly clear she didn’t want me.
I shook my head as I left the desk and waved a finger at her to follow me. Time to get my head out of my ass and put her through the paces. I walked over to the treadmills. A little cardio today would be good to help her shed some weight before we started working on building her strength.
“Get on,” I said, and typed in her estimated weight. I chose a random workout, so she’d get a mix of speeds and inclines. She started, and I stepped back, enjoying the view, as her tits bounced when the speed picked up.
Some douchebag a few treadmills down slowed his run and started staring at her chest. Anger surged through my veins, and I wanted to fucking knock him out. I had no idea why. I’d seen a million guys stare at a million different girls, and it never bothered me once. I usually understood, and nodded in agreement, admiring their bodies with the asshole.
This time, I crossed my arms over my chest, flexing my biceps, and turned to the douche. It took him a minute to pull his attention away from Brooklyn, but when he did and spotted me, he quickly grabbed his towel and took off to the locker rooms.
I was about to follow him in there and teach him some fucking manners when Brooklyn clapped her hands together, knocking me out of my rage. Sweat coated her skin, and I wondered how hard I’d have to fuck her to get the same results.
“Done,” she announced, and then downed the water from her bottle.
I got my head back in trainer mode. “Not bad. I thought for sure you’d be gasping for air and sitting on your ass halfway through.”
Her gaze turned dark, and damn if it wasn’t the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. “I don’t pay you to be a dick.”
“No, you don’t, but lucky for you, I throw it in for free.”
She grabbed her towel and patted her face, ridding herself of that just fucked glow. “If I was only as lucky as you claim me to be.”
That sadness I noticed at our first session, flashed across her face, but it was gone just as quickly. I wasn’t one to engage my clients—or anyone for that matter—in deep conversation. I didn’t care about other people’s personal lives, so I did what I always did and fucking ignored it.
“What now?” I was grateful she asked before I did something fucking stupid like ask her what was wrong. “I mean is that all you got?” she joked, which was a big mistake. If she wanted to see all that I had, she was going to see it. Not today. She already started out too easy. I would show her everything I had, though, and in the end, she’d be begging for mercy.
I nodded to the far corner. “Let’s do some squats and a few weight machines, then call it a day. But fair warning. Next time, this session will feel like a walk in the park.”
She stepped up to me, surrounding me in that flowery scent of hers. “Bring it,” she said with a determined lilt in her tone.
I made a mental note to work her to her breaking point next time. “Consider it brought.”
Thirty minutes later, she finished her workout and took off. A second after she walked out the door, I realized I forgot to give her the menu plan I created. I ran out after her and found her at her car.
I grabbed her arm. She froze and her entire body went rigid.
“You forgot your meal plan,”
I said, and her tightened muscles relaxed beneath my touch. Jesus, she was jumpy.
“I was hoping I’d get away without it.” She turned to face me, a smile on her face. I could tell it was fake though. It didn’t light up her face like the smile from earlier.
I did what I did best and ignored it. “You should know I would never make it that easy.”
“Thanks.” She plucked the menu out of my hand and shoved it into her pocket.
She had parked in the same place as the first time I’d seen her, and I laughed at the memory.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Nothing. Just, the last time you were in this spot, you caught me in a compromising position.”
“Thank you for the reminder. I’ve been trying to erase it from my memory.”
I leaned against her door frame, squeezing into the small space between her and the door. She acted like it didn’t affect her, but I could see the red slowly creeping up her neck into her cheeks. “Doubtful. I bet you got off on it.”
Her eyes widened for the briefest of seconds before she gained her composure. “Oh yeah. I went home and immediately started playing with myself.”
A vision of her sliding her finger into her dripping wet pussy popped into my mind. I licked my lips at the thought and wondered if she would feel and taste as good as I imagined.
“Are we done here?” she asked and went to push past me into the car.
“Yes.” I reached out and brushed a stray curl back into her ponytail, wanting so badly to turn her around and show her what ponytails were really made for. “Unless you want to rescind your condition.”
“Goodbye, Viper.”
“Maybe next time,” I said, and she rolled her eyes.
She could roll those eyes all she wanted because I knew damn well that one of these days, I’d have her bent over the hood of her car, and she was going to love every fucking second of it.
***
Brooklyn
I got home, locked all the locks and made a quick check of the apartment. Once I knew I was safe, I pulled out the paper Nixon had given to me. I scanned it over and sighed. Nixon’s meal plan wasn’t going to be easy, especially on my salary, but I was determined to get healthier and stronger. I would pick up extra shifts at the diner if I had to. Tips weren’t the greatest, but some customers were generous enough and those few would make all the difference.
Besides, I couldn’t continue to live off of Ramen and dollar store frozen dinners. If my past didn’t catch up and kill me then the sodium intake alone would.
I opened my cabinets and scanned the little bit of food I had stacked away. It wasn’t much, but I was trying to save my money in case I needed to drop everything and leave. Wasting money on food seemed pointless to me. But I made the first step by going to that gym, the second step by meeting with a trainer and a third by committing. All baby steps, but they were leading toward the biggest step of all. They were leading me toward putting roots in a place.
I was done running. I grabbed a garbage bag and filled it up with all the food that wasn’t on my meal plan. I couldn’t bring myself to throw it out though, so I placed it to the side.
After a much needed shower, I lifted a floorboard in my bedroom and pulled out the cookie tin I kept hidden beneath the surface. I opened it, revealing my emergency stash: cash, passport, Fake ID and a list of places where someone could go and disappear.
I took a hundred dollars and put everything back in place. One day, I wouldn’t need an emergency stash. One day I’d be able to live in harmony instead of fear, but until then, I continued to take precautions.
I dropped the food off at the church down the road before heading to the supermarket.
The priest was happy to take the food for their soup kitchen and I felt good knowing it wouldn’t go to waste. I had been in those shoes myself and to give back was the least I could do.
Cars filled almost every spot in the supermarket parking lot. I drove up and down the aisles, looking for a place to park. A spot opened but it was between two big pickup trucks, so I decided against it. I preferred something that wasn’t so tightly hidden.
Finally, a spot next to a Prius and a Camry opened up and I claimed it as mine. With the car in park, I gave a quick glance around the parking lot before getting out. I kept my focus on the door, but let my eyes continue to comb the surrounding areas. My muscles tightened as I hurried to the door. Inside with people and security cameras, I’d feel safer.
I continued and all seemed to be clear. Thank God. The tension in my shoulders eased as I stepped through the sliding glass door. I grabbed a cart and took out the list.
Nixon’s handwriting was barely legible but that didn’t surprise me. He was active and full of energy, I’m sure it was hard for him to sit still for long to compose a list. I headed to the vegetable aisle first and looked at all the options. I usually bought canned vegetables since they had great shelf life, buying fresh seemed like a luxury that I never had.
“You look lost.” I jumped at the unexpected voice and the slight caress of warm breath against my ear.
I spun, annoyed that I let vegetables take down my guard. My fear dissipated when my eyes met Nixon’s. He was still in his gym clothes, but smelled like freshly applied deodorant.
“I…” I took a deep breath, swallowing down my nerves. “I’m afraid I won’t eat all these vegetables in time and they’ll go to waste.”
“Frozen works too,” he said.
“It does?” The excitement in my voice was impossible to ignore and Nixon laughed. It was far from the stone-cold demeaner he tended to carry at most times. The simple movement, curved his lips and softened his features.
“Of course.”
“Okay then I’ll get frozen.” An awkward silence spread between us, though I doubt much made Nixon feel awkward. I glanced down at my list and pointed to a word I couldn’t read. “What’s this?” I asked.
“Can’t read my handwriting?”
“It was a bit of a challenge.”
“I never did have nice handwriting. My parents used to give me hell for it. My dad called it chicken scratch and an embarrassment unlike my sisters whose was perfect.” A darkness swept across his features at the mention of his sister. “Anyway, let me see.” He looked at the paper and nodded. “Stevia, it’s a natural sweetener and better than sugar, but also much sweeter so you don’t need nearly as much.”
“Where would I find that?”
He smirked, and though I never thought I’d be able to swoon at man’s charm ever again, I found my legs weakened. “I’m heading that way. I’ll show you.”
Years of experience, told me to walk away, men were evil and he’d hurt me. But I knew that wasn’t true. Nixon might have been a fighter in the cage, a vicious animal, but outside the octagon, though he had rough edges, he wasn’t evil. He’d never hurt me, physically at least, and I had vowed to trust him.
I pushed aside years of embedded irrational thoughts and followed him. I still hadn’t won the battle, but bit by bit, I was building my strength, and whether Nixon knew it or not, he was the one helping me get there both physically and mentally.
Chapter 6
Nixon
The sun began to rise, as I rounded the block and slowed my pace. Sweat dripped from my forehead, and my t-shirt clung to my chest. Five miles before six a.m. was the only way to start my day.
I jogged up to my apartment and watched as old man Peters stuck his head out of his curtain and looked down at me. I swore he had supersonic hearing because every single time I came and went from this building, he poked his goddamned head out. I assumed he was a paranoid old bastard, so I always made sure to look suspicious just to fuck with him.
I stuck my hand in my pocket and looked around like I just came from a drug deal. His eyes followed every movement, and with one last glance around, I ran into the building.
Think on that, you nosy asshole.
Inside my apartment, I grabbed a towel from the cl
oset and wiped the sweat from my face, which only made me think of Brooklyn once she had finished her work out on the treadmill. That fucking chick. I couldn’t get her out of my head. Then I had seen her at the store and couldn’t help but to walk up to her. I could have easily walked away, but watching her standing there in the middle of the vegetables, I felt compelled to get as close to her as possible. Smell her flowery scent and get another glimpse of those eyes, gray pools that seemed to go on forever.
She was like a gnat that just wouldn’t go away. She wasn’t even my type. One of her tits alone weighed more than most of the girls I’ve fucked.
Thinking about her tits made my dick rock hard. I tossed the towel in the laundry, stepped in the shower, grabbed hold of my dick. I stroked from root to tip, and imagined fucking her pretty little mouth. It didn’t take long before I blew my load. As it poured out of me, and down the drain, I wondered if Brooklyn would spit or swallow.
Not that it mattered, I’d probably never know. I was pretty sure she was scared of me. It was the only explanation of why every time I went near her, she jumped. I knew I had a reputation, but that didn’t mean I was going to try and fuck every girl in my sight, especially if they weren’t willing. I might’ve been an asshole but I wasn’t a fucking monster for crying out loud.
I dried off, wrapped the towel around my waist, and went right to the fridge to grab a cold bottle of water. A soft ball of fur rubbed against my leg and I bent down to scoop up Sassy, the stray cat that I found under the dumpster outside the gym.
At first, like everything else, I ignored her. But, for some reason, every goddamn time I walked to my car, she would come out from the dumpster and follow me. It wasn’t until a rainstorm one night when I found her drenched and shivering in a puddle that I decided to take her home for the night just for some shelter. That was three months ago. One of these days, I’d take her back.
“Hey girl. Are you hungry?” I asked and walked to the cabinet while she purred and rubbed against my hand. I got the bag of food, placed her back on the ground, and poured a little of the dry shit in her bowl.