Brooklyn's Baddest: A Bad Boy Fighter Romance

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Brooklyn's Baddest: A Bad Boy Fighter Romance Page 4

by Susan Westwood


  She held the door open for him when they reached it, and as she did so, she glanced at him over her shoulder and saw that he was checking her out. He grinned and she looked away from him, feeling her cheeks warm as she walked to the car. She knew she was going to have to keep clear boundaries with him if he did wind up fighting at the dojo. They got into her car and buckled up, and he looked around at it and raised an eyebrow. “This is a nice car,” he said appreciatively. He’d seen cars like hers in magazines, but had never been in one, and had certainly never worked on one.

  She slipped her sunglasses on and shot him a smile. “It is a nice car,” she answered, shooting him a smile. “Win a competition and you can buy one for yourself if you want to.” She took off down the road.

  Jake chuckled and gave a nod. He looked out of the window. He knew what she was saying and what she was doing, but he didn’t want to let himself dream too much or think of what may come. He didn’t want to think past the present and what was happening just then, and looked over at Lisa and admired the shape and length of her legs that were showing just a little bit more as she sat in the driver’s seat. Skirts had a way of rising up when a lady sat, and he smiled and lifted his eyes to look at her face.

  “So, Lisa… do you have a boyfriend?” he lifted his chin, hoping that she would say no, and not really caring if she said yes. He was still going to go after her, no matter what the answer was, but he knew it would probably be a lot easier to go for her if she didn’t have one at all, or if she was mad at the guy who she was with. He was going to find a way.

  Lisa hadn’t expected him to come on to her quite that strong that fast, but she kept her guard up. She didn’t even look at him when she answered him. “I don’t ever discuss my private life with anyone I do business with.” It was short and simple, but more than that, direct. She hoped that it would be enough to dissuade his interest, though she doubted it.

  His eyes stayed on her and he leaned a little closer, lowering his voice slightly, speaking softly. “That’s too bad. You should talk about it, because you’re missing out.”

  She cleared her throat slightly, trying to swallow the small knot that had formed there when he drew nearer to her. “So what do you do when you aren’t at the gym or out street fighting?” she asked lightly, trying to change the subject and learn a little bit more about him.

  He sat back in his seat and looked out of the window. She was going to play hard to get. He could do it. He loved a challenge. “I’m a mechanic. I have a shop, and I fix cars.” He turned his head slightly toward her, eyeing her profile from head to toe. “What about you? How did a nice girl like you wind up working for a dojo? You don’t really seem like…” he paused, “the fighting type.”

  She glanced sidelong at him for a moment and the corner of her mouth turned up in the slightest smile. “Well, the owner wants competent people working there, I’m smart and he likes that, and I like to find good fighters and help them to become great fighters. I like seeing people do well and better their lives. So, really, it’s a perfect fit.” She was quiet a moment, thinking about just how she had come to the dojo and how important it was to her.

  “It’s never good to judge a book by its cover. Imagine what the dojo might be missing if I took one look at you and just assumed that you were a no good thug because of the way you present yourself. I have a feeling there’s a lot more to you than what meets the eye, and I have a feeling that the possibilities for your future are a lot better than what anyone might guess just by looking at you. Just because I have a professional look doesn’t mean that I don’t belong in a dojo; it just means I take my job seriously and I prefer to look like a professional when I’m working.” She gave him a meaningful look.

  He nodded silently, wondering what she dressed like when she wasn’t working, and he smiled a little to himself. His thoughts turned then to the deeper message that she was sharing with him, and Muldoon’s words came back to him as well. Her words echoed his, and the parallel between them made him think of his future and what might be ahead for him if things worked out.

  He told himself not to think of it, but as she pulled up to a massive building designed in a stunning Asian style, he couldn’t stop his heart from beating fast. Just the smallest bubble of hope rising up a little inside of him.

  The building was mostly hidden behind a tall wall with a carved wooden latticework atop it, and beyond the wall he could see the upper walls and roof of the building as well as the tops of several well-placed trees.

  Jake followed Lisa in through the huge thick wooden gates that were opened at the center and pushed back. There were two great stone dragons guarding the outside of the gates and he looked up at them as he walked by them, admiring them. As they went through the gate he walked a few feet and stopped in his tracks and stared, open-mouthed, at the grounds around him.

  Lisa stopped and turned to look at him. She smiled at his astonishment. He looked around at the delicately designed garden; the meticulously raked gravel, the trees trimmed with absolute precision, the reflecting pools filled with koi, and the small streams that ran from under small arched foot bridges. There was a squared arch before them that could have allowed a truck access, and beyond that he could see a courtyard where a gazebo stood in another garden, at the center of the building structure.

  “Are we still in Brooklyn?” he asked in amazement.

  Lisa chuckled and nodded. “Yes, at least just outside of these walls we are. Inside the walls, we are in the Hayashi Dojo.”

  He turned his head and stared at her then. “This… this is the Hayashi Dojo?” he asked in a quiet tone. He’d heard of it, but he had never seen it, and he had never dreamed for a moment that he ever would see it, or that he would one day be standing in the front garden of it, or walking through the wide open gate to try out for the position of one of its revered fighters or competitors.

  She let him look around for a moment and then she turned and walked again, and he followed her, his breath stuck in his chest as he looked around him at everything that he could take in all at once. He hadn’t remembered feeling so much in awe since he was a small child on Christmas morning.

  He caught up to her and she slowed her walk, pointing things out to him and telling him about the facility and what they featured. The gardens, the studios, the meditation room, the tea ceremony room, and there was even a small museum featuring historic pieces of Japanese culture and martial arts history. She shared some of the finer points of it all with him, and he soaked in every word she said. He was incredulous at where he was, and felt tendrils of hope moving through him that there may be some sliver of a chance of him becoming a part of it.

  All of the doors were made of wood and slid open sideways, and all of the buildings were made of traditional thick wooden beams. He felt as if he had stepped into Japan. He had never seen anything like it in his life, and cool or not, he let himself be enthralled by it and feel every moment of excitement and possibility, because he knew that if he wasn’t accepted at the dojo, he wasn’t ever coming back, and knowing that, made every second there priceless; he didn’t want to miss any of it or blow it off in misplaced indifference.

  As they passed one studio, he could see that there was a class going on inside the room, and he watched closely for a moment before they continued on. The class moved with every bit of precision and exactness that he saw in the design of the gardens and structure around him. He wondered with some doubt how someone like him could fit into a place like this one. He thought of himself as the definition of chaos, and he couldn’t see a good fit, but he wasn’t about to let himself think on it.

  Lisa watched him closely, wondering with a silent smile if he would make it through the tryout and if he would be able to be there. She hoped that he could be; she had seen many people walk through the front gates and take a tour of the facility, and few of them had been as truly touched by it as she could see that Jake had been. It gave her hope that he might be able to move from the ratty old gym whe
re she knew that he was limited by his environment, into the dojo where every possibility could be his if he worked hard for it.

  She led him, wonderstruck as he was, to the main offices when the tour was over. He stepped into her office, and looked around at her desk, cabinet, table, and sofa. All of it was done in fine Japanese wood, all hand crafted, and all of it looked as pristine as the grounds outside.

  Lisa turned and looked at him then, leaning against the side of her dark wooden desk. “So, what did you think of the grounds and the dojo?”

  He gave his head one shake. “It’s incredible. I haven’t ever seen anything like it,” he answered, looking at her and finally understanding completely how a woman as classy and beautiful as she was could fit in so well in the dojo. She belonged there, though he still had no idea how she had ever come to be there.

  “Is this a place you’d be interested in training at and fighting competitively for?” she asked, certain she already knew the answer.

  A smile spread over his face until it was a grin, and she saw the fire light in his eyes. “Definitely,” he answered immediately.

  She turned away from him, going to the tall dark wooden cabinet against the wall, and she opened one door of it, reaching in and pulling out a gi. “You’ll need to put this on for your tryout.” Lisa said as she went to him and reached her hand out to give it to him. When he took it, he stretched his arm out and ran his hand down her bare forearm and over her hand, closing his fingers around her hand as he touched it.

  “Do you want to stay in here with me while I change into it?” he asked, the grin still on his face and the spark of a gleam in his steel blue eyes as they locked on hers, challenging her; taunting her with possibility.

  Her breath caught and she pulled her hand from him quickly. Her expression did not change at all, and she did not look away from him for a moment, but then she turned and simply walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. He watched her go and heaved a breath, chuckling and shaking his head as he looked down at the fighting clothes in his hands. She was going to be a challenge, he thought to himself, but he was going to do everything he could to change her mind and get her to tell him yes.

  Lisa stood outside of her office and planted her back firmly on the wall, closing her eyes and exhaling the breath that she had been holding. She told herself that she absolutely could not under any circumstances let a student at the dojo have any kind of effect on her. She forbade herself to feel anything, and reminded herself that she was there to work and that she had an obligation and duty which was more important than anything.

  Nothing else could interfere with that, especially not a gorgeous, wild, hot looking man who was there to train and fight. She was going to have to be extra careful with him until she had pushed him away enough that he didn’t have any effect on her at all. It wouldn’t take long. If he did make it into the dojo, he would be training and she wouldn’t see him much.

  She shook her head as if to clear it and opened her eyes again. Telling herself that it was just the fact that it had been a long while since a man had touched her, and certainly nothing more, she shrugged it off and waited. When Jake finally came out, he looked as if he fit into the scene of the dojo around him perfectly.

  Giving him a nod of approval, she turned and walked toward the studio where the class had been going on, and they entered, staying against the back wall. The class moved in unison, ending their session, and bowing low to their instructor, who bowed back to them out of respect. They filed out silently, and Lisa looked over at the two men at the far end of the room and gave them a genuine smile.

  She prayed that both men would approve of Jake. She knew that Jake was different than the kind of young men they normally took into the dojo, but she was a good judge of character, and she had an excellent track record when it came to discovering good competitor talent and introducing them to the dojo. Many of the fighters she had found had gone on to become world class competitors and champions.

  Jake seemed the type who didn’t quite take to discipline, however, and discipline was the first rule of the dojo. It was why the place had succeeded for so many years, and why it worked like a well-oiled machine. It was easily the most respected dojo on the entire eastern coast of the country, if not the best in the country.

  Part of her own work over many years had contributed to that, and though Jake might not be quite the same sort of fighter that they took on, she hoped that the two men walking toward them would be able to see what she could see; even through his attitude and flirtatiousness.

  One of the men was older, with white hair and slightly browned skin. He was obviously of Japanese heritage, and he moved with a gracefulness that bespoke gentility and power; not unlike a tiger who came with watchful eyes, padding silently through grass. The other man was younger than the old man, but still older than Jake by at least ten years. His hair was black with silver streaks at the temples, and his eyes, while youthful, showed a few fine lines at their corners. He too was of Japanese blood.

  The two men reached them and bowed to Lisa, who bowed back to them, and they turned and bowed to Jake, who took Lisa’s hint, and returned their bow.

  Lisa spoke as Jake watched them silently. “Jake, this is Master Masahiro Hayashi, owner of the Hayashi dojo.”

  He held his hand out to Jake, and Jake took it. Lisa looked at the younger man. “This is Master Koichi Susaki; he is our head instructor.”

  Koichi shook Jake’s hand, his eyes keenly focused on Jake. Jake felt as if the man was looking straight through him, and as though there was no secret he could keep from him. It unnerved him completely, though he tried with everything in him not to show it. His heart began to beat swifter.

  “Gentlemen, this is Jake Allen. I am bringing him in to try out here for a fighter position.” She smiled at both of the older men.

  Masahiro nodded and moved to stand beside Lisa. Koichi regarded him silently for a long moment and then nodded. “You will come and spar with me.” Then he turned and led Jake to the center of the room. Jake’s heart began to pound as he followed the older man. He could not believe that he was where he was, and about to do what he was about to do. It was more than he had ever even let himself imagine, and he wasn’t sure about any of it, other than that he was going to do everything he could to pass the tryout so that he could be taken on as a fighter for the Hayashi dojo. He knew there would never be another chance like it in his lifetime.

  Koichi faced him and bowed again, and Jake bowed in return. They stood then, and Koichi moved subtly into form, his dark eyes locked on Jake’s blue ones. Jake took his own form and waited. Koichi did not move; he only watched Jake. Jake waited a few moments, realizing that Koichi was doing exactly what he always did with the men he fought in the street. Watch and wait; let them make the first move.

  He began to circle, wanting Koichi to move first, but knowing in his core that Koichi would not. The older man circled with him, keeping an exact equidistance from him. Jake took his time and tried to calm his pounding heart and slow the blood that rushed through him. He focused with everything in him, trying to find the anger and rage that always drove him to success in a fight, but he was quickly discovering that it was almost impossible to be angry in a place as peaceful and beautiful as the studio and the dojo that he was in.

  Anxious to do his best, he began to search through his memories and grasp tightly to the ones that had hurt him the most. He could feel the pain and anger of his youth building up in him and he focused on it with everything in him until it began to course through him. It was slow and subtle at first, but then as he concentrated on it, it began to burn in him until he could feel it moving through him, almost as if it was alive.

  Both he and Koichi continued to circle one another, and in his anxiety and rush of anger and adrenaline, he did something he never did. He made the first move, as Koichi watched him like a silent bird of prey, waiting patiently; unmoving on the wind above its target. Jake’s arm flashed out toward Koi
chi, and Koichi seemed to move like water, turning and bending, simultaneously fluid and strong, and Jake never touched him, but Koichi lightly struck him, and it sent him to his knees momentarily.

  Jake launched himself back up and sucked in his breath, trying to steady himself. He forced himself to regain his focus and concentration, and he centered all of his attention on the man in front of him. He watched carefully as they circled and moved, and Koichi’s eyes never left him. He grew uncertain and anxious, and from the corner of his eye, he saw the older man’s hands and feet moving in strange ways that he thought might be the precursor to a strike, and for a split second, he looked away from Koichi’s eyes toward his feet, and in that moment, Koichi struck him lightly again, bringing his hand to Jake’s chest and sending him backward, flailing for a short distance before Jake regained his balance and returned to the match.

  Frustrated with his lack of success, Jake channeled all of his angry energy and directed it in what he hoped was a surprise kick toward Koichi’s chest. That style of kick had landed several men bigger than Koichi on their backs. Once again, he never touched the older man. Koichi moved again, like water, twisting and gliding; one moment he was in a new place, and the next moment he was gone again and in another place. Jake couldn’t tell where he was going to go next or how he would move. He was completely unpredictable, and that only served to frustrate Jake even more.

  Lisa watched from Masahiro’s side, her eyes taking in every movement. She knew exactly what was going on, and the more she watched, the more she hoped that Jake would make it through the tryout and that he would be accepted. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and though she seemed calm and unruffled on the outside, her heart was beginning to beat faster just watching the match, and her fingers closed snugly around each other.

 

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