Memphis nodded, taking a deep breath, once again settling into her stance. She blew her breath out slowly, then spun and kicked, hitting the pad exactly where Remington had indicated.
“Perfect!” Remington said, shaking her head. “You learn damned fast.”
Memphis glowed with the praise.
“Okay, let’s see it again,” Remington said, holding up the pads.
Minutes later, Memphis had perfected the move and was ready to try more.
Remington showed her a few more moves, explaining to her about staying light on her feet and how to avoid hits.
“Now,” Remington said. “You ready to spar with me?”
“Are you kidding me?” Memphis said, looking shocked.
“No, I’m not. Or do you want to try it with one of the kids?” she said, indicating a couple of the younger men standing around watching them.
Memphis shook her head. “No men,” she said, her voice flat.
A look flickered over Remington’s face as she took note of the tone, but she nodded to cover her surprise. “Then let’s go,” she said, smiling. “Jack, can you give me some music here? Memphis works better to that. I’m thinkin’ Linkin Park. What was that one you played at the track?” she asked Memphis, even as the other girl grinned.
“‘A Light That Never Comes,’” she said. “The one with Steve Aoki.”
A couple of minutes later the song flowed out of the speakers.
“Now come on,” Remington said, grinning, and motioned to Memphis with her hands up.
Memphis put her hands up as well and moved to her left. Remington moved with her. Without warning, Remington’s arm whipped out, missing Memphis’ face only because she pulled the punch. Memphis moved back, looking wary.
“It’s okay, just keep your attention on me,” Remington said. “Watch when I tense, see what I tense. If I tense my right arm, I’m probably going to try hitting you with it, so you need to be ready to respond with a block or by moving.”
Memphis nodded, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“Ready?” Remington said.
“Yeah.”
Remington sidestepped to the right, and Memphis watched her. This time, when Remington came at her, she was able to block the punch and duck the right cross that came next.
“Perfect!” Remington exclaimed, even as she continued to move. “Now, come at me. Just step into it… right there. You have to watch, right here… right here…”
Memphis listened to everything Remington said, moving and shifting as the other woman did. Within minutes they were sparring and Memphis was holding her own. She’d just avoided a side kick and ducked a jab when she shocked Remington with a spinning roundhouse kick starting from a low crouch. Only Remington’s legendary speed and reaction time saved her from getting kicked square in the face.
“Ho!” a number of the people observing cried.
“Bondye!” Remington exclaimed. She looked shocked. “Kisa kaka sa?”
Memphis’ eyes widened. “Huh?”
“Basically—holy fucking shit, what was that?” Remington said, a wide smile on her face.
Memphis shrugged. “I dunno, I just kinda did it.”
Remington laughed, shaking her head. “Okay, I think I’ve put myself in enough danger for the day.”
Remington recounted the sparring with Wynter and Kieran at lunch. “Still don’t know where that came from,” she said, looking at Memphis. “But it was damned good.”
Memphis smiled, her blue eyes sparkling as she took a drink of her beer.
“You sure you don’t want to take up MMA fighting?” Remington said, grinning.
Memphis grinned back. “Do they have a featherweight class?”
“They have an atomweight. How much do you actually weigh?”
“Uh, about a buck.”
Remington shook her head. “You’d have to gain five pounds, but that’s doable.”
“Good luck,” Memphis said. “I usually average about ninety-five to a buck five, but that’s on the high side for me.”
“How tall are you?” Wynter asked, looking surprised.
“Five-five, why?”
“That’s a pretty low weight for your height.” Wynter sounded concerned.
Memphis shrugged. “I like it that way.”
“Why?” Remington asked.
Memphis didn’t answer. She just shook her head and took another drink of her beer.
Remington and Wynter exchanged a look. Kieran saw it and knew they were worried. She’d seen that Remington was very protective of Memphis; it made her like the retired MMA fighter even more. Quinn was very protective of Memphis as well. It made Kieran happy to know that she had these warriors on her side.
That night they went to dinner at the world-famous Gotham Bar and Grill. The wait staff fell all over themselves to serve not only Remington LaRoché, someone they considered one of their own as a New Yorker, but also the very famous Wynter Kincade. Memphis and Kieran found all the fawning amusing. Remington, as always, was humble and kind. Wynter had learned quickly not to get too annoyed with people around her girlfriend, because the last thing Remington liked was a scene. However, when one person got a little too pushy with Wynter, Memphis and Kieran got to see the protective side of Remington.
The man, who was from another country, was very insistent on getting her autograph, and once he got that he wanted a kiss. He couldn’t seem to understand the idea of “No,” and continued to grab at Wynter.
He was standing behind them, in-between Remington’s chair and Wynter’s. When he reached for Wynter one more time, Remington stood up, facing him.
“You need to back up, now,” she said, her tone indicating how serious she was.
The man looked up at Remington. He seemed confused, but also made the mistake of taking a step toward her. Remington’s chin came up. He was taller than her by an inch or two, but the deadly look she gave him had him backing up that step.
“Go back to your table,” Remington said, her tone low as she pointed.
The man said something in his language, which sounded like German, and his expression indicated that it wasn’t a very nice thing. Remington narrowed her hazel eyes at him and reached up to take off her jacket, exposing very well-muscled arms that flexed as she moved her neck around to stretch it. The man’s eyes widened significantly then. That was when the wait staff decided a confrontation was best avoided and assisted the man back to his table. Remington watched the guy go, her lips twitching in irritation. After a long moment, she turned and sat back down.
“See how much fun being famous is?” Wynter said, grinning.
Remington shook her head. “People like that just have no concept of acceptable behavior.”
“Looks like you were ready to set him straight,” Memphis said.
“No one grabs at Wynter like that,” Remington said seriously.
“Noted,” Memphis said, widening her blue eyes as she grinned.
After that they had a nice meal with a lot less interruption. Afterwards they went to a club. This time it was Memphis who was recognized and set upon by people who wanted to get her attention—all women, naturally, since they were in a gay club. Kieran made a point of staying out of the way, wanting to make sure Memphis didn’t feel in any way pressured after their discussion about her wanting only Memphis sexually.
Once the DJ found out Memphis McQueen was in the club, she called her up to the booth. Kieran saw the woman smile seductively at Memphis as she walked in. The other DJ was definitely hot, with long dark hair and dark eyes, and a body that looked like it had been made for sex. Kieran felt frumpy just looking at her.
Everyone in the place clamored for Memphis to spin for them. Memphis couldn’t resist and began working the board. Music pumped from the speakers and the dance floor filled up. As usual, Memphis worked her magic and had the floor packed for the next hour. She finally turned the board back over to the house DJ and walked over to where Remington, Wynter, and Kieran stood a
t a tall pub table. She signaled a waitress, asking for a beer and a shot of tequila.
When the waitress came back with her order, she said, “On the house,” and winked at Memphis.
“Thank you,” Memphis said, smiling.
“Any time,” the waitress said as she smiled broadly, then walked away.
Memphis turned her head to the side, tilting it slightly to watch the girl. She glanced over to Remington and saw that she was shaking her head, a smile on her lips. Memphis did her shot and then drained half the bottle of beer. She grabbed Kieran’s hand and took her out to the dance floor. They danced for the next half hour, Memphis often moving close and sliding her hands up Kieran’s body seductively, even leaning down to kiss her on the lips a few times. When they went back to the table, Memphis had been sent shots by three different women, each with an invitation to dance.
She did the first shot, looking around to see if she could figure out where it had come from. A blond walked up. She wore a miniskirt that was barely a skirt, a midriff top, and high heels that put her eye to eye with Memphis.
“Is that a yes?” the blond asked.
Memphis smiled. “I guess so.”
The girl took her hand and, lifting it above her head, led Memphis back to the dance floor.
“Well, it’s no wonder she doesn’t weigh anything,” Wynter said, grinning.
Kieran watched as Memphis danced with the blond. The woman was obviously used to getting what she wanted and had absolutely no problem showing Memphis what that was. She kept her body glued to Memphis’ the entire dance, grinding on her in an almost obscene way, and Memphis didn’t seem to mind at all. The fact was, Memphis was damned attractive, wearing all black with her silver jewelry, and with the air of complete confidence that she had about her all the time. Kieran couldn’t help the stab of jealousy that ran through her when she saw the woman reach up and grab a handful of Memphis’ white-blond hair, pulling her head down to kiss her. Kieran saw Memphis’ hands open wide for a moment, like she was shocked by the action, but then they moved to the woman’s hips and pulled her closer as they kissed.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” Kieran said abruptly, and then turned and walked away from the table.
Remington and Wynter looked at each other. They’d seen Kieran watching Memphis and knew she was getting jealous.
“I’ll go,” Wynter said.
Remington grimaced, not liking the idea of Wynter walking around a strange club by herself.
“I’ll be fine, babe,” Wynter said, reaching up to touch Remington’s cheek.
Remington still didn’t look pleased, but finally nodded.
Wynter found Kieran in the bathroom, leaning her forehead against one of the walls.
“You okay?” she said, leaning next to her.
Kieran shook her head, not moving it from the wall.
“What’s actually the deal with you two?” Wynter asked.
“We’re… friends with benefits.”
“Oh,” Wynter said, grimacing. “So what she’s doing out there is technically okay…”
Kieran nodded, not looking happy.
“So go find yourself a girl too,” Wynter said.
“I don’t want anyone else,” Kieran said sadly.
“Oh. That sucks.”
Kieran chuckled at that. “Yes. Yes, it does.”
“Well, come on,” Wynter said. “We’ll go get drunk and then you won’t care.”
Kieran smiled, looking over at her. “You’re really very nice for a rock star.”
Wynter laughed. “Well, thanks, I think,” she said, blinking a couple of times.
Wynter took Kieran’s hand and led her out of the bathroom. As they were walking back to the table, a man who was there with his friends and had apparently decided it was his night to score a lesbian moved into their path.
“You’re Wynter Kincade,” he said with a drunken leer.
“Yeah,” Wynter said, then started to move past him.
He reached out to stop her. Remington was behind him immediately. “Touch her and you’ll be sorry you did,” she said, her voice low and right next to his ear.
The guy had surprisingly quick reflexes. He jammed his elbow back toward Remington’s mid-section and would have connected, except that Remington was also quick. She sidestepped and threw her arm around his neck, yanking him up in a choke hold, her face right next to his.
“I warned you,” Remington said, her tone still low.
The guy struggled, and Remington tightened her hold. She was focused on him, so she didn’t see the other guy coming up from the side. The man launched a punch, catching Remington in the cheek, which had Wynter screaming and broke Remington’s hold on the first man, who turned to grab her. That was when Memphis threw herself into the mix, throwing a punch at the guy grabbing Remington and kicking the other guy in the face with her newly learned roundhouse. Remington was able to grab the first guy by two handfuls of his shirt and backed him up into the bar three feet away, punching him in the face twice. He went down. She turned to see that Memphis was standing over the guy she’d kicked in the face.
“Go ahead, get the fuck up!” Memphis yelled. “And I’ll let her kill you.” She pointed at Remington, who was now walking back over to them.
The man, whose mouth was bleeding where Memphis’ boot had connected with his lip, held up his hands in surrender.
“Jesus,” Wynter said a little while later. “We can’t take you two anywhere.” She was grinning.
“You did pretty damned good there, little one,” Remington told Memphis.
“I had surprise on my side,” Memphis said with a grin. “I see two punches took Mr. Big Britches down.”
Remington chuckled. “Nice roundhouse.”
“I learned from the best.”
“Are you okay?” asked the DJ, who was on a break. She was looking at Memphis with excessive concern.
“Oh yeah,” Memphis said, nodding at the girl.
“Gonna come back and show me a thing or two?” the DJ asked, her look suggestive.
“Sure,” Memphis said with a grin, grabbing her beer and following the other DJ back toward the booth. “I’ll be back,” she mouthed to the girls.
Half an hour later, Wynter wanted to go; she wanted to clean up the cut on Remington’s cheek. Kieran went to tell Memphis they were leaving. Memphis told her she’d meet them back at the apartment later. Kieran knew what that meant. She walked back to Wynter and Remington and let them know. Wynter put her arm around Kieran, hugging her to her side as the three of them left the bar. The owner, who’d appeared after the fight, apologized to Remington again for the trouble.
“No worries,” she told the woman, smiling.
It was two in the morning when Kieran turned over in the empty bed and looked toward the windows. She was surprised to see Memphis sitting in the same spot they’d sat in the day before. She had taken off her jacket and her boots and had a bottle of beer in her hand. She was looking out the window.
“Memphis?” Kieran said softly.
Memphis turned her head to look at her, a gentle smile on her lips.
“Is everything okay?” Kieran said.
Without a word, Memphis set the bottle down and hopped down from her perch. She walked over and knelt next to the bed, reaching out to touch Kieran’s face fondly, her eyes searching Kieran’s. Worried, Kieran sat up, looking down at Memphis.
“What’s wrong?” Kieran asked, disconcerted that Memphis hadn’t said a word yet.
Memphis smiled, closing her eyes slowly. Kieran realized she was drunk, or at least close to it. “Come to bed,” she said, reaching out to take her hand.
Memphis allowed Kieran to pull her up onto the bed and surprised her by moving to kiss her as she did. Kieran immediately reacted by putting her hands around Memphis’ neck. Memphis continued to kiss her, removing Kieran’s T-shirt and panties, then her own clothing. They made love then, and afterwards lay together, side by side, looking at each other.
Memphis reached up, stroking Kieran’s face as they looked into each other’s eyes.
“I don’t want anyone else but you either,” Memphis said softly.
Kieran bit her lip, smiling. She leaned in, kissing Memphis, brushing her hair back.
“I just want you,” Memphis said, her tone wondrous.
“I just want you too.”
Memphis stared back at her for a long moment, her eyes searching Kieran’s.
“I’ve never let anyone this close to me, Kier,” she said, her voice a soft whisper, with a look of trepidation.
Kieran looked back at her, surprised.
“Please don’t hurt me,” Memphis said then, with tears in her eyes.
Kieran’s eyes filled with tears at such a plea. She put her hand to Memphis’ cheek. “I won’t hurt you, Memphis. I promise you that,” she whispered.
Memphis nodded, looking very emotional. Kieran hugged her, wrapping her arms around her and gathering her close. She could feel Memphis shaking and thought she might be crying. She hugged her closer, kissing the side of her head. She knew Memphis was drunk and that was likely to be what had prompted her admission, but she also believed what Memphis had said. It tore at her that Memphis was obviously used to getting hurt, so much so that she didn’t let people close to her.
Chapter 8
“You’ll make the prettiest bride,” her mother said, brushing her long blond hair.
“I don’t want to marry him,” she said, then winced as her mother yanked at her hair.
“Don’t ever say that! You are being given such an honor, Cassidy. How can you say that? He is our blessed prophet. He is going to deliver us from this hell on earth.”
“I don’t like him,” she said, her voice low.
Her mother hit her with the brush then. It wasn’t the first time. Later she woke, dazed, with cuts on her hands from trying to stop the beating. She knew her head was bleeding. She lay silently, just wishing she would die so this would be over.
She felt a hand on her leg and jumped.
In Plain Sight Page 19