Elijah snorted at Zander’s telepathic thought. He didn’t have the ability, so he couldn’t respond, but he was going to have a good fucking time proving Zander wrong. Nine years changed people, and Elijah figured that the Sawyer in New York wasn’t going to be the same Sawyer they drank cheap moonshine with as teenagers.
6
SAWYER
Two weeks went by slowly, and, by the end, Sawyer was in the gym pushing herself to make sure she didn’t grow complacent. She kept a strict workout routine and no injury was going to keep her from pushing her body to the limit.
Two hours of weight training every day. One hour of cardio every day. Three days a week, she went to judo classes. Two days a week, she trained alone with Charlie. Then she taught two self-defense classes every week for minors, though Liam had been slowly taking over that for nearly a year.
“Sawyer,” Charlie called her from the ring in the middle of the gym. She put down the barbell she was using and walked over, eyeing the quiet teen from a week before. “You were right.”
“I always am,” she smiled at the young man. “What’s your name?” She wasn’t going to forget again.
“Trevor,” he mumbled, looking at the ground.
“Anyone know you’re here?” She asked him plainly.
“No,” he continued to mumble. She was used to the kids she trained being quiet. They were either terrified of her or defiant and ready to fight the world. They were all full of the same two things, though: anger and shame.
“Good,” she patted his shoulder. She had nearly eight inches on the small kid. It reminded her of when she had first met Liam. He looked up at her and frowned.
“You said you trained minors self-defense?” He looked from her to Charlie, and they nodded. “I want to learn.”
“Who?” She asked softly.
“Step-dad,” he mumbled. “Not me, though. He goes after my mom, and I want to protect her.”
Sawyer tensed and looked up at Charlie. Their eyes met, and she knew he would be okay with it. If it had been another teenager, she wouldn’t get involved, but if an adult beat up on kids or defenseless people, she stepped in when she found out. She couldn’t stop herself. She refused to see people beaten on like that for nothing more than existing, and that was really the only reason some abusers needed.
“Good thinking, young man,” Charlie waved him closer. “Let me get your information and give you the schedule. If you want private lessons so you can advance quickly, we allow anyone over fourteen to work around the gym to earn hours of training. Ten hours of work for one hour of private training. You’re allowed to work twenty hours a week in exchange for time with me or Sawyer.”
She watched them walk off and clenched her fists. He was a good kid. Defending his mom? That was some noble shit right there. She and Charlie would make sure Trevor knew everything he needed to achieve that goal.
But Trevor wouldn’t be dealing with the step-dad. She would be.
“Liam,” she called him over. “Remember what I had you do the night we dealt with your brother and his friends?”
“Yeah,” Sawyer could hear how uncomfortable he was. She had handled all five of the guys with ease right in front of him. He’d gotten the full show on how her powers worked and how she used them to fight. It was efficient. His entire job was to help her throw them into the truck they drove and get them to a hospital.
“Want to do it again?” She raised an eyebrow. She knew his answer. She had purposefully roughed up Carson more than necessary to put some fear into Liam at the idea of initiating violence. He was a non-Magi, and he would have no idea when he was in over his head if he accidentally picked a fight a Magi. She had shown him that.
“Not really,” he mumbled.
“Good,” she chuckled and slapped his shoulder. “Go help Charlie with Trevor. I’ll handle the rest.”
“Alright,” Liam nodded. “You won’t be around for the rest of the day?”
“Nope,” she said softly, giving him a deadly smile. He only kept nodding before walking off. He knew what she was planning, but she figured it looked different now that he knew she was once an infamous and proficient assassin.
Sawyer waited patiently. She knew he would show up. A few easy questions around the neighborhood had told her what she needed to know in order to corner this guy on his way home.
It was nearly midnight when the asshole got home, drunk as fuck, trying to stumble up the stairs to his apartment where Trevor and his mother were. This dick wasn’t going to make it up there, though. In fact, if he knew what was good for him, he was never going to see them again.
Charlie had gotten the boy’s home address and his mother’s name for paperwork. It was standard. Then Sawyer would use that information to fix the youth’s problem. All the teenagers she trained knew it was her, but none of them ever confronted her; and they didn’t tell anyone else.
She walked across the street to the man leaning against his building’s door.
“Mr. Green?” She asked quietly. She didn’t wear a mask, she didn’t hide who she was when she showed up for these… meetings. She wanted these assholes to know exactly who was sending them on their way.
A little more side research during the day had told her that Trevor’s mother was a hard worker, but her husband kept screwing things up for them. He was spending all their money on alcohol, then beating on her when there were no groceries. He refused to work, making her handle everything. Instead of the one steady job that could have covered her and Trevor, she was working three to keep up with his demands.
“Yeah?” He eyed her and then grinned. “What’s a hot thing like you doing out here?”
“Fixing a problem.” She smiled. “I’m only going to say this once. Listen closely.” She pointed to the door. “I had the locks changed today, so your key won’t work. All the other tenants have been taken care of, but I’m here to inform you that you won’t be getting a key.”
“Why the fuck won’t I be getting a key? I fucking live here,” he glared at her.
“Your name isn’t on any lease for this building,” she shrugged, “therefore, you don’t need a copy of the key. Now, on to part two. Find a new place to live. You don’t live here anymore.”
“Why?” He growled at her. “My fucking wife lives here, and I’m going to live with my wife and good for nothing step-son. He needs a father-figure in the home.”
“He doesn’t need one who beats his mother.” She stepped closer. “We can do this the easy way, Mr. Green. You can leave and never turn back. When divorce papers show up, you’ll sign them and pretend that Alicia and Trevor never existed. You will never hit another woman or her kid again. Trevor said you didn’t hit him, but I have a feeling that it wasn’t truthful.”
“And if I say, ‘Fuck the easy way’?”
“Then I send you to the hospital.”
“Try me, bitch. No girl can-”
She didn’t wait for him to finish. They never chose the easy way, but she always offered the choice just to see if they were even a tiny bit redeemable. She felt bone crunch under her right fist. She had hit him hard enough to give him an orbital fracture. She didn’t wait for him to recover, grabbing his shoulder with her left hand and sending three solid upper cuts in his gut, making him vomit on to the stairs. She kneed his face, sending him flying back into a bush. He tried to stand up, and she let him wobble around, bringing his hands up. She gave a dark laugh and sent a left hook into his jaw. He staggered, and she stepped in close, leaning until her lips nearly touched his temple.
“You want to fight with a woman?” She snarled in his ear. “Then find one who can fight back, coward.”
His groaning reply was satisfying and not enough for her. She stepped back and landed a kick into his knee, buckling it backwards, and sending him to the concrete, screaming in agony. Now that was the response she wanted.
“You are never coming back here,” she knelt and whispered to him. “Is that clear?”
“Ye
s, please! I beg you, stop. I’ll never come back. I’ll leave them alone. I’m sorry!”
She’d heard the same thing one hundred times, at this point. She would keep his information on hand and check in every now and then, just to make sure he did what she asked. So far, none of the people she went after ever repeated their offenses. It wasn’t just men, either. She’d taken out a couple of women who thought that they could treat their kids badly.
She and Charlie would let the kids stay with them until other family arrived. If there was no other family, they had a list of trusted and respected foster homes to put them in. They didn’t let anyone get lost in the system. Trevor was lucky to have his mother. Most of the kids she helped had no one. Liam had only been the first, but he wasn’t close to the last.
She hauled the man up and dragged him to the pickup truck she used only for this. No plates, all black, beat-up. If the cops got onto them for this, it was hard to identify and harder to find. She pushed him into the passenger seat and drove them to the hospital. She didn’t bother getting out to send him in. She kicked him out his side once he opened the door, speeding off the moment she knew she wasn’t going to run him over.
She couldn’t leave them bleeding on sidewalks—it drew unwanted attention if they accidentally died—so she dropped them off at hospitals all over the city.
She slammed the truck door closed when she got back to the gym. She didn’t bother checking to see if Charlie was around or out with his friends. Liam was tucked away in his apartment, now that they had run his brother back out of the city.
She hit the kitchen and began scrubbing. Blood covered her hands, and she bit back the revulsion at the sight. Blood didn’t really bother her, but the sight of it on her hands brought back memories.
She was looking down on an old man, choking on his own blood. Her hands were covered in it, her shoes were soaked. She reached to pull the dagger out of his chest, causing another pulse of blood to pour out and cover her shoes. A hand touched her shoulder, and she shook, fighting the urge to vomit at the scene as the hand led her away, telling her how well she did.
She swallowed and felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. A door opened and closed as she scrubbed. The water was scalding hot. She never really felt good at the end of these things, but, in her mind, it was a necessary evil. She would deal with the nightmares of blood if she could help people make a step toward rebuilding their lives in safety, away from those who would force them to live in fear.
“Sawyer…” Charlie whispered, stepping to her side. “Your hands are clean, Sawyer.” He reached out and turned off the water. She kept trying to scrub, her eyes still closed. She felt him grab her wrists, and she opened her eyes. Her hands had gotten red and would have started blistering if she had kept them in the water. She didn’t feel the heat from Charlie’s hands when he healed her this time, indicating she had probably screwed up the nerves in her hands.
“You normally don’t do this,” he said after releasing her. “It’s never this bad.”
“I think it’s because I ran into Axel. Everything has been fucked up since then,” she mumbled. “Will they be alright, old man?”
“Yeah, I stopped you before you did any real damage to yourself,” he rubbed her shoulder. “And that problem you dealt with?”
She met his eyes, showing no emotion.
“Trevor and his mother will be fine,” she whispered. She never told him more. If anyone ever found out what she was doing, her story was that she was breaking into his records without his knowledge. She wasn’t going to tell him details. Details got people arrested instead of just questioned.
“Good,” he nodded. “Friday Fight Night is in three days. Work out whatever is riding you there.”
“I will, have no fear,” she stepped past him and went to her room. The moment the door closed, she turned off all her lights, stripped, and climbed into her bed. Sleep wasn’t going to come but she wasn’t going to do this on the floor.
She curled into the fetal position and shook. At some point, Charlie walked in and put a blanket over her, but neither said anything. She didn’t move until dawn.
“Henry! No!”
She thought she screamed it, but nothing came out of her open mouth.
A thud.
Blood on the tiles.
Cracks in the wall.
7
SAWYER
Fight Night, Fight Club, illegal fighting ring that shouldn’t exist. Whatever anyone called it, they all meant the same thing. A good time.
Sawyer walked in, waving to the two guys who had volunteered for door-duty that night. She never did door-duty personally, but that was because she ran security for the entire thing. On Fight Night, the gym was hers and no one else’s. Charlie even asked for her advice on matters.
Tonight though, she was also another fighter. She didn’t participate very often, but she needed it tonight.
She wore a standard pair of low-rider jeans, torn thanks to actual work, and a black tank. She purposefully stepped heavier, so people didn’t realize how silently she really moved. She nodded to Charlie as she passed him, not stopping to tell anyone hello on her way to the locker room. She could have just used the apartment, but she liked getting into the locker room and meeting the other fighters, or at least getting eyes on them.
She dropped her bag onto a bench and looked over at the other fighters. Sawyer was the only woman who showed up regularly to fight. She hadn’t seen another female fighter in months, actually. The other women were girlfriends, ring girls, and patrons. So, when she looked over to the other fighters, she only saw a ton of dudes and nearly half were staring at her back.
“Can I help you?” She raised an eyebrow and began to untie her boots. Most of these guys knew who she was, but she saw more than a few new faces as well.
“You here to get with someone?” A new guy asked, causing a few of the other regulars to start coughing. A couple chuckles rang out, including one from her. “Because I’m single.” He said it with a tiny smile and a suave voice.
“No,” she grinned, kicking off her boots. New guys always thought they were cute. This one seriously was. Not her type, though. Too Italian. Not that she had anything against sexy Italians, they just reminded her of Axel and that made them… not her type anymore. She also wasn’t sure she would ever want to get involved with a guy with a scar like his. Nearly two-inches wide and cutting his pec in half diagonally, it was a nasty piece of work. “I’m here to fight.”
She pulled her tank off to reveal the black sports bra she wore to fight. She didn’t have large breasts, so it wasn’t like she was showing off anything. She saw the guys appreciate her abs.
“Well,” the newbie continued, looking her over. “If you’re interested, I’m game.”
“I’m not, but thanks for the offer,” she shook her head, still smiling. She got into her shorts quickly, ignoring the guys all talking shit before their own fights. No one knew who was fighting whom until they were called to the ring. There were rare occasions that they would know, but those fights were planned well ahead of time—rivalries and rematches, drama fights.
The locker room emptied, and she was still taking her sweet time getting ready. They wouldn’t start until she got out there. Charlie found her as she was wrapping her hands. He pointed to her left hand and she sighed.
“What, Charlie?”
“Someone was asking how you lost it,” he told her. She nodded slowly. “One of the new fighters, probably too scared to ask you himself. That Italian.”
Of course, the one that hit on her. Cute.
“What did you tell him?”
“Same thing I tell everyone,” Charlie chuckled. “If you wanted people to know, you would tell them. I wasn’t going to offer the information.”
“Thanks,” she grinned at him. “Who am I fighting?”
“You know I’m not telling you that.” Charlie patted her shoulder. “But you’re in the prime spot tonight. People missed you while yo
u were in LA.”
“Well, I’m here now.” She stood up and looked herself over one last time. When she was satisfied that she was ready, she gave him a cocky grin. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
They walked out together, and Sawyer waved to the crowd. The prime spot was first fight, the show-stopping opener that everyone spent most of their gambling money on. People cheered, and ring girls riled the crowd up further, strutting around and showing off. One helped her into the ring, and Sawyer planted a kiss on her lips, making the crowd holler wildly. Sawyer wasn’t the type to sleep with other women, but even she could appreciate some of the gorgeous ring girls they had show up.
Plus, it was good for her image to be involved like that. Something sexy, fierce, and completely out the viewers’ leagues.
Being a fighter was as much show as it was fighting. A fighter developed a reputation as a hero or villain, a player or reserved character. She liked the limelight from fighting. She lived in the shadows for so much of her time, that when she got in the ring, she reveled in the lights and the crowd. It made her a fun fighter to watch, and people recognized her. No one in this group was going to give her up, either. They were all hiding from something outside of the gym. This was sanctuary.
“Tonight, we have a treat for you!” Charlie stood in center ring. “My very own Dark Darling is back in town, and tonight, we’ll be seeing her bring out all the stops in a Magi fight against the up-and-coming star, Brick!”
People screamed, and Sawyer bounced on her feet, trying to get a little more limber before the punches started flying. She rolled her eyes at what Charlie called her, making him laugh as he continued.
“Now, we all know the rules, and there are very few!” Charlie pointed at them both. “No leaving the ring, and no letting your magic leave the ring. We don’t call rounds here, you fight until you drop. Once someone is on the ground, you back off. If they get back up, go for it. If they don’t, you’ve won the match. Finally, keep it short of killing each other. Fighters, ready to get started?”
A Life Of Shadows Page 6