by Amelia Fox
“Yeah, this is it,” she said. “You’re not going to make me go in, are you?”
“It’s okay.” I nodded.
She hesitated but came forward nonetheless. She trusted me. I have that effect on people I guess. We approached the counter where a different Wolf Brother, Terrell, was standing. He had his arms crossed and looked bored as shit. I looked around the gym and could see that pretty much all of the guys who had yelled stuff were still training. I approached the counter. I turned to Emily over my shoulder.
“How long are you working at the courthouse?” I asked.
“A month.” She croaked.
I turned back to the counter where Terrell was raising an eyebrow with mild interest. Most of the guys in the gym had already noticed my presence and had started to watch.
“Emily is gonna start training here,” I said. “She will take some MMA classes with me.”
“Okay, man,” he said. “We never had a woman train here before though.”
“So what?” I said. “If any of these guys gives her a hard time because she’s a woman, there will be blood on your gym’s floor.”
Terrell shrugged. I looked around the gym to see that practically all of the guys had stopped what they were doing. They had stopped jumping rope, punching bags, and grappling to gawk at me and Emily. The anger rose again as I thought about knocking every single punk out, broken home or no broken home. I don’t give a fuck. I widened my eyes and spread my arms as if to say ‘what are you looking at?’ and they soon went back to their business. Not one of them said a word to Emily.
“Come on.” I said.
We walked out of the gym into the chill New York air. We proceeded towards the bus station and I waited with her for the bus to arrive.
“Thank you again,” she said. “When should I start?”
“Tomorrow,” I said. “Drop by once your finished at the courthouse. Bring sneakers and comfortable clothes. I’m gonna teach you a few things.”
The bus came. Emily smiled and reached out to squeeze my hand. I felt my stomach churn. It was awkward being touched but I liked it when she did it. Her hands were so warm and her smile was radiant. I nodded and watched her leave on the bus. The bus departed, leaving me in the empty street as darkness fell. That’s when I heard it.
“That’s him.” A voice behind me said.
I had a bad feeling about what was behind me. I turned around to see the three guys I had beaten up the other night. Their faces were battered and bruised. They were not alone. Another four guys were standing with them. Each man had a bat or a piece of lead pipe in their hands. One of them, the guy who had pulled his dick out the other night, lifted his shirt to reveal a pistol tucked into his waistband. A chill ran through me.
“That’s him alright,” one confirmed. “I’m looking forward to this.”
Chapter Six
Emily
I hit the pillow with a smile on my face. What with the criminals I saw walking in and out of the courthouse, the lawyers included, and my attack the other night, and the way the guys at the gym had yelled at me, I was beginning to think there were no good men left in this world.
But then I had met Blake. He was a real life superhero. I had to work out what his story was. He came out of nowhere and saved me from being raped. He had knocked out three armed men. Blake had said that he was trained but I didn’t know what that meant. Was he a bouncer? A bodyguard? A soldier?
One thing was for sure, he was so damn dreamy. Okay, so he was a little rough around the edges, what with the tattoos and the muscles and the blunt way he talked, but he was a gentleman through and through. Blake was a dying breed. Even if he hadn’t saved me, I felt like I could have trusted him with anything anyway.
I felt warm inside knowing that tomorrow evening I would have him training me. Would he have to touch me? He seemed awkward about doing that but I still hoped that he would. I had seen some of the guys in the gym grappling on the floor with each other. Would we have to do that? Just the thought of having that heavy sexy man on top of me made me stir between the legs.
He probably has no interest in me, I thought. That’s why he is so awkward about touching and eye contact. Maybe he has a girlfriend or a fiancée or a wife. Maybe she’s jealous and controlling and that’s why he’s distant around me. Or maybe he’s gay. No, he couldn’t be gay. My gaydar was pretty good. I’d had a lot of gay friends growing up and Blake was nothing like them. It was no use speculating though. He definitely seemed to be off the market.
A girl can dream though, I thought, slipping my hand under my pyjama bottoms and reaching for my pussy. It was already slick with come. Truth be told, I had been a little frustrated all day. I imagined I felt like Gwen Stacey if she had been allowed to have coffee with Spiderman after he rescued her. Not that you could compare Blake to Spiderman.
My clit was slippery. I ran my fingers delicately over it in little circles. Then I thought about what it would feel like if it was Blake’s hand on my pussy and not mine. That made me increase the pressure. I pressed down firmly and picked up the pace, increasing my sticky arousal. He would definitely be rough about things. He definitely wasn’t a gentleman in the sack. I bet he was a wild animal.
I grew more and more excited thinking about how he was going to pin me down in the gym. They say you can tell if a guy is any good in bed by how he dances. I’m sure it’s the same with fighting and grappling. Running my fingers in faster circles, I reached my hand up to my breasts and squeezed them hard, imagining that it was Blake gripping them as he entered me.
I kept rubbing myself and my legs tensed up. I was approaching orgasm. It was going to be so delicious as I imagined Blake thrusting deep inside me. But then my eyes filled with the shadowy figures of the three men who had assaulted me. My mind was consumed with them. It felt as if I was back in that alley, down on my knees again. I pulled my hand off of myself and opened my eyes wide. Damn it, I thought.
I suddenly became frightened that I was in my flat all alone. Living by myself was not a new thing for me but I felt vulnerable, which had never been the case before the attack. I got up and switched the lights on. That made me feel slightly better. Molly, my black tabby cat, strolled by and nuzzled against my leg. Thank God for her, I thought. I didn’t feel so alone. I picked her up and cuddled her close, walking to the kitchen to make myself a drink.
I dumped a bunch of green tea leaves through a strainer and poured some boiling water over them. It was my new thing. With the stress of law school and the hours the firm expected me to keep, I needed something to calm my nerves. Green tea tasted like swamp water but it did the job. I sat down at the kitchen table and pulled a copy of the previous day’s newspaper towards me. I took a deep relaxing sip of tea and flicked through the pages.
An article caught my eye in the middle of the paper. It caught my eye because it had a picture of a man who looked remarkably like Blake. Well, it looked like a bald version of Blake. It couldn’t be him, could it? The guy in the photo was wearing soldier uniform. The photo looked like a mug shot or passport photo. I inspected the photo closely. It was a remarkable likeness but surely it wasn’t him. Underneath the photo, the tag line said: ‘Matthew Harvey: The Missing Hero’. The title of the article was: ‘Another Accolade for AWOL Hero’.
‘Yet another member of the US Armed Forces has come forward to tell of Afghanistan hero, Matthew Harvey’s heroic exploits. The soldier, who wishes to remain anonymous, has provided a video that depicts an extraordinary feat by the, currently still missing, American hero. It is shaky footage but we can see clearly enough from these stills that Matthew Harvey saved 20 Afghan children from a burning building. The school was the target of a suicide bomb in an extremely volatile district of Southern Afghanistan last year. Matthew Harvey entered the building, despite gunmen opening fire on the soldiers, and pulled the children from the chaos.’
The article didn’t do much to alleviate my tension. It was impressive to read about this hero but it just made
me even more convinced that the world was a violent and terrible place. I took a long sip of tea and closed the newspaper.
I stroked Molly, who was purring in contentment on my lap, and began to think about Blake again. My curiosity about that man was unsurpassed by any other person I had ever met. I couldn’t wait to learn more about him.
The next morning, I got dressed as usual and put on my suit for the courthouse. But I did something different. I grabbed a small sports bag and stuffed my high heels in there, a pair of tracksuit pants, a t-shirt, and a sweater. I threw some comfortable sneakers on my feet and began the commute to work.
The ghetto didn’t look so bad in the early morning. You could almost forget that it was a ghetto. Aside from the windows with bars on them, graffiti, and rows of closed down stores, the place looked quite normal. There were a few bums and a few people wandering aimlessly but there were also quite a few people going about their business and heading to work. I didn’t feel so vulnerable in the morning. Also it helped that I had donned a pair of comfortable sneakers. They definitely gave me the freedom and confidence to know that I could run fast if I needed to.
I climbed the steps to the courthouse, moving past criminals in ill-fitted suits and lawyers, not that there was usually much difference between the two. A couple of policemen were standing around, chatting with coffee cups and morning bagels in their hands. They said hello to me. I was starting to see some familiar faces and get to know the people of the courthouse.
I waited in the lobby for Daniel Sanders, the dickhead lawyer I was shadowing. He walked passed me in a hurry without even looking at me. He just clicked his fingers and motioned for me to follow. I hated that guy. He thought he was a bigwig but he was just an ambulance chaser.
The day went by just as it normally does. I drank too much coffee, tried to stay awake, made some notes, and watched as the revolving door of the courthouse churned out scumbag after scumbag to receive their sentence. The day ended early at five o’clock because Sanders’s client received his verdict. He was found guilty and convicted of Assault with a Deadly Weapon. Sanders managed to get his client a reduced sentence. The guy was only going to spend two years in the slammer.
I went into the women’s toilets and changed out of my suit and into my comfortable clothes. Heading out onto the street in those clothes made me feel a lot safer. I felt like I was less of a rich-girl-looking target. I still got some stares and cat calls but nothing more aggressive than you would get anywhere.
I stood outside the Wolf Brothers’ MMA gym and took a deep breath. It’s okay, I told myself. Blake will be in there. I walked in and went to the desk where the guy from the day before was drinking a protein shake and watching an MMA fight on a small TV. I approached the desk and drummed my fingers nervously on the counter. I craned my neck around and did a quick scan of the gym. It was bustling, full of young guys lifting weights and sparring, but I didn’t see Blake anywhere.
“Excuse me,” I said. “Where is Blake?”
“Blake didn’t come in today.”
“He didn’t? Why?”
“I dunno.”
I wasn’t sure what to do. I was in the heart of a sweaty lions’ den, surrounded by a pack of animals, and my savior was not there. I could just walk out. He could have just forgotten and will come in the next day. He couldn't have forgotten, I thought. Maybe something bad happened. I started walking towards the door but the guy behind the counter called out.
“Don’t you wanna train?” He asked.
“But Blake’s not here.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “There are other trainers. You’re a beginner, right?”
I nodded. It looked like I was going to have to train without my hunky hero. I felt my stomach sink.
Chapter Seven
Blake
Fuck.
I winced and tried to open my eyes. They were sore and felt bruised. Everything felt sore. My head was pounding. It hurt when I breathed. It felt like shards of glass were in my lungs every time I inhaled. My ribs felt like a punching bag. My jaw was heavy and ached like hell.
Where the fuck am I?
Blue walls. Beeping monitors. I’m in a hard bed. Tubes were going into my hand, arm, and a few other places. I was in hospital. There was nobody in the room. Just me. I growled hard as I tried to crane my neck to look out the door. Just as I did so, I caught the eye of a nurse scurrying by. She did a double take and rushed into the room. She plastered a smile on her face and hit a button on her walkie-talkie.
“Mr Harvey is awake,” she said. “Hello, Matthew!”
I groaned. She approached the bed and put her arm on mine. With the pounding in my head, like a bongo drum, I couldn’t keep focus on her face. I could tell she was young and inexperienced though.
“How are you feeling?”
My mouth was dry. I tried to move my mouth in order to say something but my jaw hurt too much and nothing but a raspy croak came out.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Don’t try to speak if it’s too difficult. Your doctor will be here in a moment to explain everything that happened.”
Sure enough, an older and more experienced looking doctor entered the room. He patted the nurse on the back and approached the bed. He put his face close to mine and examined me with a look of relief on his face.
“Mr Harvey,” he said. “I’m Dr Harris. Allow me to explain what happened.”
I tried desperately to remember myself before the doctor began explaining. A few images shot through my head but they were kind of hazy. I remembered taking Emily to the bus stop. I remembered turning around and seeing seven guys with bats and pipes. They wanted to hurt me.
What else? I remembered turning and running as fast as I could. I ran down the middle of the street and managed to gain some distance from the gang. I also remembered being struck in the back of the head. One of the gang members had launched a baseball bat and it had hit me. I crashed to the ground. I had got up almost immediately and tried to start running again. But they had been upon me and unleashed a barrage of kicks and strikes. I was sure I had knocked one of them out in the fray but I don’t remember anything after that. It all turned to black.
“You were the victim of a gang beating,” he said. “Luckily the beating took place around the corner from a police station. A group of officers saw the attack commence and managed to halt it soon after it began. You have taken quite a beating but there will be no permanent damage. You suffered a concussion and have been unresponsive for one day. Do you remember any of this?”
I took a deep breath and tried to respond but it still felt like my lungs were filled with shattered glass. I decided that I wouldn’t respond. Instead I just shook my head. I noticed that the young nurse was looking at me strangely. She had this little smile on her face and seemed to be stuck in a daydream.
“I’m sorry to cut in,” she said. “But I just want to say that I have read all about you in the papers and I think you’re such a hero. You should be really proud.”
“Okay nurse,” the doctor said. “That’s another thing, Mr Harvey. Your appearance here has caused quite a stir. We have some officers here who will explain some things to you shortly, once your condition improves. You will also need legal representation. But we will discuss that later. For now, you need to rest.”
Oh, fuck, I thought. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The doctor and the nurse left the room. I saw them stand outside the door and talk to two police officers. One of the officers looked in the room at me and nodded as the doctor spoke to him.
It looks like I will be needing legal representation after all.
Chapter Eight
Emily
A few days passed. I went to the gym at the end of each day. But Blake was not there. I felt almost heartbroken. I had so looked forward to seeing the hunky tattooed hero again. Did he just change his mind? I never could take rejection well but this especially hurt.
I had been assigned an instructor who was teaching me strikes. He
was shocked that I knew literally nothing. We had to start from the very beginning. When he first asked me to make a fist he just shook his head and muttered something under his breath. Apparently you’re not supposed to tuck your thumb inside your fist when you want to throw a punch.
My trainer split his attention between me and five guys who were all much more advanced than me. It seemed as though the trainer was definitely giving his time to the others and seemed to have a lot of disdain for me. He would teach me a punch and then tell me to practice on my own for five, ten, sometimes fifteen minutes, while he went away and concentrated on helping the other guys. I didn’t care though. I just needed the instructions and then I was content practicing on my own. I didn’t need some hood rat breathing down my neck in disappointment while I struck a boxing bag.
After we nailed the basic strikes and punches, the trainer went on to explain what Krav Maga was. He said that we need to focus on some basic stuff that will also be the most helpful in a dangerous situation. He explained that Krav Maga was the Israeli martial art and would help me to defend myself against ‘big bad motherfuckers’ as he put it. He also called Krav Maga the ‘dirty fighter’s choice’ and said that it was essential for women to know.
I was practicing open-palmed strikes against a punching bag when I heard a commotion near the front of the gym. A few men had begun to saunter away from their training. I looked over and there was Blake. Jesus Christ, I thought. He looks like shit. My heart hammered furiously against my chest. I couldn’t believe what I saw.
Blake limped into the reception area. He was battered and bruised. It looked like he had been jumped. His gorgeous face was covered in purple bumps. One of his eyes especially had swollen quite aggressively. There were cuts on his lips, the bridge of his nose, and around his eyes. I didn’t know what to do. I barely knew this man and yet I felt the urge to run over and throw my arms around him. I wanted to hold his face and inspect his wounds. I wanted to patch him up. But instead, I stood next to the punching bag, letting the shock wash over me, as I watched the young men in the gym go over to him.