Moments later he taps out. “Alright,” he says. “I give in.”
I get up off him and watch as he gets himself to his feet. He eyes me once again. “I wasn’t expecting that,” he says.
“No shit,” I grunt.
“What’s your name?” he asks as he grabs a towel and wipes down his face.
“Xander Phillips,” I tell him.
“I’m Cole. This is my gym, I own it with three of my friends, Caden, Luke, and Jace,” he explains as he climbs out of the ring. I follow behind as he continues. “What’s your story, Xander?”
I pull my shirt back over my head and follow him into what must be his office. I take in the room and notice his back wall is lined with photographs of himself in competition and some others which must be his students, all winners, of course. “I started training in MMA when I was a kid. My trainer passed a few years ago.”
“So, what’s with the Ice Hockey then?”
“Consider it a requirement of being my father’s son,” I explain.
“Right, so I’m assuming he doesn’t know about this, then?” he asks as he gestures to the gym around him.
“Nope and neither do any of my team. If I get caught fighting, I’m off the team and lose any chance of signing with the NHL.”
“Well, that explains why I’ve never seen you in the competition rounds. Correct me if I’m wrong but I don’t get the impression you’re really interested in the NHL,” he questions.
“No, sir. I want to fight,” I tell him before explaining my father and his conditions a little further.
He considers me for a moment. “You’re serious about fighting?”
“I am,” I tell him, letting him see just how serious I am.
“Look, I think you’re good. One of the best I’ve seen come through that door in a while and with the right training, I think you could go all the way,” Cole says. “So, competing publicly isn’t an option. What If there was another way?” he asks with an excited gleam in his eye.
“What do you mean another way?”
“Ever heard of the Underground? A new season starts in a few weeks.”
Holy shit. Of course, I’d heard of the Underground. You can earn a shit load of money but it’s dangerous and not to mention illegal. Hardly any rules. It’s basically an illegal fighting competition where anything can and does go wrong. It’s complete with drugs, alcohol, betting, dirty money, mob bosses and of course, there is always the risk of death for the fighters. All it takes is one wrong punch to the head and it’s lights out.
If I fought in the Underground and actually succeeded, I’d be raking it in, it would be dirty money but it’s all the same to me. That money would be just what I need to get out from under my father’s umbrella. I could quit the team, get my own place without relying on my father, start competing professionally and eventually buy my own gym. Though, there is always the risk of getting caught early on and getting kicked off the team only to be left with nothing.
It would be a massive risk, extremely dangerous and incredibly stupid but in the end, it’s a risk I’m willing to take.
A grin creeps across my face as I look Cole in the eye. “I’m in.”
Chapter 2
Charli
The rain pours down as I rush out the front door in the middle of the night with my suitcase dragging behind me. I try my best to close the door quietly in fear of waking her but I should know better, with all the alcohol in her system, not even a hurricane could wake her. I have no idea where I’m going to go, all I know is that I need to leave, to go somewhere she will never find me again.
I run down the walkway as the rain buckets down, drenching my clothes instantly. I bypass the mailbox and turn onto the concrete path. I hurry past her old beat up car and consider climbing in and hotwiring it, just like my dad had taught me before he passed but I know that will only give her yet another reason to come after me and let’s face it, my driving skills are well… non-existent.
My dark hair sticks to the side of my face as I turn my eyes down, trying my best to concentrate on the pathway before me while shielding my eyes from the heavy rain. I dodge massive puddles as the streetlights flickers and make it nearly impossible to see where I’m going.
I continue my way down the path, heading towards the city, impatiently waiting for a car to come by that I can flag down but I honestly doubt anyone will be driving past this late at night, especially in this ridiculous storm. They would have to be as stupid as me to be out tonight.
I pick up my pace as the cold starts to seep through my clothes and chill me to the bone. My hands shiver and shake while my teeth begin to chatter. A lump forms in my throat as I realise what a shitty situation I’ve just gotten myself into.
What the hell am I going to do? I have no family, no friends, nowhere to go. It’s most likely going to be my first night sleeping on the streets and I mentally scold myself for being so stupid. I should have waited for morning but who knows what might have happened had she woken before I had a chance to leave.
I reach the peak of a hill and look up. I must have been out here for hours, one, two, maybe three? Who knows? My feet are aching, my body is violently shaking from the cold and my nose hasn’t stopped running.
As my eyes raise on top of the hill, I finally see the glow coming from the city lights below and tears fill my eyes. I’m nearly there. I can do this. I will not give up, my Daddy didn’t raise a quitter.
I pick up my pace, despite my aching feet and push myself forward. I make my way down the hill and continue on for another thirty minutes or so, making sure to keep my eyes open for somewhere to crash for the night but come up blank.
I finally make it into the city streets and a sense relief comes over me. She won’t find me here. It’s too busy, she always said she hated the city as she could never navigate her way around.
I make my way through the streets, looking for any ‘help wanted’ signs in shop windows or any adverts for places to stay that I could check out come morning, but there’s nothing. Nada. Zilch.
My feet begin dragging as my heavy eyes beg for sleep and I know I need to stop. I look up and down the streets desperately looking for somewhere to crash for the night but it’s so late that everything is closed. I find some sheltered steps that lead up to a storefront and I sit down, relieved to finally be out of the rain, though the shelter doesn’t do anything for the chill in my bones.
I pull my suitcase up beside me and quickly look through to find something warmer to put on, only with all the rain and puddles I’ve put my suitcase through, the clothes inside are just as wet as I am.
A sob rips itself from my throat. I’m in serious trouble here. I just need to make it through the night and I’ll be ok in the morning. I can’t sort it all out then.
I drop my face into my hands and rest them on my knees as the tears stream from my eyes. I try my best to concentrate on my breathing to get myself under control. I listen to the sound of the rain coming down around me and it’s not long before I managed to calm down.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here all by yourself?” A voice says from above me.
My head snaps up as my heart attempts to leap out of my chest. A man stands on the step below me but still manages to tower over me. With the sound of the heavy rain pelting down around me, I hadn’t noticed him sneaking up. Something dark lingers in his eye as he looks me up and down and licks his lip. The intention crystal clear in his dead eyes.
No, no, no. This can’t be happening.
The man begins to reach for me and I snap to my feet with a speed I didn’t realise I was capable of. He smirks at my movement and I realise he is probably getting off on my fear. He lifts his foot to step up to the same step as me. “That’s more like it, baby,” he slurs as he reaches for his belt buckle.
Oh, fuck no!
My fist slams out and I punch the guy in the face but my lack of energy and strength only gives him a slight wobble and makes him angry. I’m
pretty sure I might have broken a bone in my hand but I don’t have time to dwell on it. He reaches out for me and I take a quick step back out of his grasp but he keeps coming forward.
I have to get out of here but he is blocking my way. So, I do what any sane woman would do in my situation. I knee the fucker in the balls as hard as I can. He doubles over and groans out. “You’re going to pay for that, you little bitch,” he promises.
My heart continues beating out of my chest but I know this is going to be my only opportunity to get out of here before he recovers.
I lean back on the railing and grab it with both hands before using it to propel both my legs up into the air and kick him hard in the chest with every ounce of strength I possess. The fucker gasps as he is thrown backward and falls down the stairs. He lands on the walkway with a loud thud as the water on the pavement splashes up around him. I dash down the stairs not wasting a single second as I bolt down the pathway, leaving the very last pieces of my belongings behind.
I don’t look back so I have absolutely no idea if he is following me or not, I just keep running, dashing through walkways and alleys. My blood pumps through my veins so loudly that I can no longer hear the sound of the rain coming down around me.
I spot what looks like a bar but in the dark, I can’t really tell. There is a light on inside and it’s clear the place is definitely closed for the night but I just don’t care, I continue running right up until I am standing at the locked front door.
I raise my fists and desperately bash on the door with what little energy I have left. “Help,” I scream over and over again with tears streaming down my face. “Please, someone, help me.”
I hear the sounds on the other side of the door telling me that someone is fiddling with the lock. The door is pulled open and I practically fall inside. “What the hell’s going on out here?” an old man grumbles.
I ignore him as I rush inside and hastily close the door behind me. I lean up against the closed door and shut my eyes as I desperately try to catch my breath. I feel the tears still streaming down my face and I do my best to wipe them away but after a moment, I realise they are here to stay.
“My god, child. What the hell is going on?” The man demands, repeating his question.
I open my eyes and finally take a moment to take him in. He is sort of a younger version of Santa Claus and instantly makes me feel at ease. “I’m so sorry,” I begin to stutter out through my ragged breaths. “I just... I didn’t have… There was a man… and he…. he…” A big sob rips through me once again and the man stares at me blankly for a short moment.
“Come on,” he suddenly says, walking over to a bar and pulling out a chair for me to take a seat. I do as I’m told as he makes his way behind the bar and pulls out a box of tissues and places it beside me. I greedily pull out a few tissues and get to work sorting myself out.
The man grabs a shot glass and places it down in front of him before grabbing a bottle of vodka and filling it up. He pushes it in front of me before pulling it back. “Wait, are you 21?” he quickly asks.
I don’t know why, but the question brings a smile to my face. “Yes,” I laugh before he pushes the shot glass back and allows me to down the shot with ease. I pull a face as the vodka burns its way down my throat.
“Right,” the man says, pulling my attention back to him. “Start from the beginning.”
I’m not particularly proud to tell him my story but it’s the least I can do for the man who has just saved me from the ugliness of the past few hours. “Well, it sounds really childish but I sort of ran away from home tonight but I just couldn’t stay there any longer. It wasn’t safe. I waited for my step-mum to pass out and I packed a suitcase and left. It’s just my luck that it’s pissing with rain right now.” I see his eyes narrowing on me, filled with a million questions but he lets me continue. “I, ah, walked for maybe three hours until I made it into the city and thought I could find a motel or a shelter or something like that but there was nothing so I stopped to rest on this storefront that offered a little shelter and that’s when this man just… appeared. I don’t know, there just seemed something really off about him, like I knew what he wanted straight away, so I nailed him in the balls and ran and now… I’m here.”
“Well, shit,” he murmurs, grabbing my empty shot glass and filling it up once again. I nod in agreement as I down the vodka. “First of all. You’re a damn fool for leaving in the middle of the night, during a storm without a ride or a place to stay. I’m also betting that you have no money. I’m not going to pretend like I know why you did it but I’m sure you have perfectly good reasons for that,” he says, sounding like a disappointed father scolding a daughter.
I don’t know why but the thought of disappointing this man does weird things to me. My head hangs, ashamed of how I’ve handled myself tonight. “Alright, darlin’, what’s your name?”
My eyes come back up to meet his. “I’m Charli,” I tell him.
“Nice to meet you, Charli. I’m Micky and this is my bar.”
I nod my head as I take the chance to have a quick look around and realise, even in the low lighting that the place is pretty damn awesome and massive. There are big tables up the back for big groups, little single tables for intimate dates, a dance floor for the girls to shake their asses while their boyfriends drink beer and talk shit. The place looks well worn like it could be a popular hangout spot. “I like it,” I tell him honestly.
“Thanks,” he says with sincerity. “Now, down to business. You got any friends or family you can stay with or even a plan on what you’re going to do now?”
I cringe, knowing he may not like my answer. “No. I have no one. No job, no money, no car, nothing,” I sigh. “I thought I had a suitcase filled with clothes until I left it on that storefront with that man.”
He considers me for a moment before coming to some sort of decision. “Alright, here’s what we’re going to do,” he starts. “I have an apartment upstairs that I crash in every now and then. Consider it yours. You’ll work in the bar each night and you can start paying rent in a few weeks when you’re back on your feet.”
“What?” I gasp, “I couldn’t possibly put you out like that,” I say, desperately wanting to take him up on the offer but it’s too kind, I couldn’t take advantage of his hospitality like that.
“You can and you will,” he demands. “Now shut up and listen to what’s going to happen.”
I swallow my refusals and nod my head as Micky continues. “For the next week, I’ll get my daughter to come in and train you on everything you need to know about being behind a bar. Layla is a star, she’ll have you owning this place in no time but I’m assuming serving drinks for the rest of your life isn’t particularly your dream?” he asks.
“Well, no,” I admit. “I’ve always dreamed of owning my own hair salon,” I tell him bashfully, never having actually said those words out loud.
“Hmm, that’s manageable,” he says. “Have you started studying for that?”
“No,” I say with a shake of my head, “I’ve never had the chance to go to school. I was pulled out of school when I turned fifteen to work for my step-mum’s cleaning business so she could stay home and drink.”
Micky let’s out a sympathetic sigh then reaches out a hand and gently squeezes my shoulder. “That’s going to change real soon, Charli,” he tells me. “We’ll get you enrolled in classes in the morning.”
“That sounds great and all but how the hell am I going to afford beauty school?”
“Don’t worry about that, I’ll sort it out. You can pay me back through your wages,” Micky suggests.
“I can’t,” I say with a shake of my head. “It’s too much.”
Micky is thoughtful for a moment when he gets this look on his face, almost as if a lightbulb has gone off in his head. “Have you ever heard of a traineeship?” he asks.
I look at him blankly, completely confused. “Um… no,” I admit.
He lets out a small
chuckle. “I had a feeling,” he says with a smirk. “It’s where you would go to work in a hair salon every day and the senior hairdresser will teach you everything you need to know. So, you basically get paid to learn.”
“Seriously?” I ask in shock. I’ve never heard of such a thing.
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s a little more technical than that but leave it with me, I’ll look into it in the morning. For now, you should get upstairs and get settled. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
What the hell? Is this man an angel sent to earth to rescue me? “Why are you doing all this for me? You barely know me.”
“One day, when you have kids, you’ll understand,” he explains. “And I hope to god that if my daughter was ever in this situation that there would be someone out there who would look out for her.”
“Thank you, Micky,” I say.
“Alright,” he says. “Enough of that. I’ll show you upstairs. I think Layla has some clothes up there you could borrow until you can get some of your own,” he adds as he walks out from behind the bar and gestures for me to follow him. “I’ll show you the way.”
I follow him out a side door which leads up some stairs, thankful that he flicks on a light at the bottom, showing me exactly where we are going. We reach a door at the top and he pulls out a bunch of keys from his pocket before fiddling around with them for a while and releasing one silver key from the keychain.
He slides the key into the lock and opens the door before handing the key to me.
He pushes his way through and I follow behind. Micky flicks on a light which brightens up the whole room. It is a small one-bedroom apartment, which surprisingly, is actually quite nice and modern.
He leads me around the apartment showing me where everything is and explains that there should be enough food and water in the fridge to last a few days but then I’ll need to go shopping. Tears begin to prick my eyes for the millionth time tonight and he takes that as his cue to get going.
Xander_Kings of Denver Page 2