by Tiffani Lynn
As soon as they are out of earshot, Ahmod whirls on me. “Okay, missy! Why do you hate the guy?”
“What?” I ask, wondering how he knows, considering I didn’t get a chance to even fill him in.
“You were strung so tight with him standing here, I thought you might slingshot yourself into orbit. Although I don’t know how. That guy melted me like butter. Oooh-wee! Between those broad, muscled shoulders and the deep voice, girl, don’t get me started!”
“Is sex all you think about?” I deadpan.
“I never said anything about sex. Are you thinking about sex with him? I should have known.” He winks at me and giggles again.
“Wait, what? No!” I protest, praying he can’t read my secret thoughts. As much as Keegan irritates me, he also has me thinking of things I haven’t thought of in quite a while.
“You are full of shit, girl! The tension coming off you while he was close was so thick, I’m surprised anyone could breathe. I thought it was hate, but it was definitely lust. Oh, yeah! My girl has burning loins for the smokin’ fighter man.” Then with a little squeal, he bounces on the balls of his feet and claps his hands together. “If we can soften you up a little, I bet he’ll be interested. I mean, who wouldn’t be? That beautiful red hair, perfect skin, great ass. Yes, let’s work on this while I’m here.”
“No! I have no interest. I’m not a project to work on either. Besides, guys like him go for super bimbos, not for women who’re strong and have a mind of their own.”
“Wrong! I sensed some interest from him and he is not the type to go for bimbos. He can actually carry on a conversation and has a little spunk to him. Not your typical boxer. I think it’s time to get to know him.”
Before I can say another word, Ahmod’s sashaying in his flouncy skirt and kitten heels toward the kitchen, where Sam and Keegan disappeared to. I slap myself in the forehead and stand there a second before I head over to locate a glass of wine. I obviously need one. Once Ahmod gets something in his head, he won’t be deterred, even if I’m adamant that I don't want it. It’s bad enough that Sam keeps bringing him around, but now Ahmod too? I don’t know if I can take it.
Five
Keegan
If Collins were capable of breathing fire, I would have been toast tonight. She was so pissed that I was there, it was almost laughable. I could sense her discomfort when I met Ahmod. She was waiting for me to pull some bullshit macho crap and when I didn’t, it threw her for a loop. If this were a cartoon, there would have been bold question marks above her head. I know a lot of dudes, especially gym rats and boxers, would have something to say to or about guys like Ahmod. I mean, it’s not like you see a six-foot-tall African American guy in a girly skirt, floral blouse, high heels and full makeup every day. But Sam obviously loves the guy, so I’ll give him a chance. Besides, I don’t care what his sexual orientation or identification is; my type is more his redheaded friend than him.
Personally, I don’t give a crap about that stuff. As long as someone is comfortable in their own skin, who am I to judge? Ahmod was funny as hell. The world could use a few more like him. I see where he fits in in L.A. easily. You find all kinds of people there. Here, not so much. I imagine, even as nice as the people in this town are, he probably didn’t find it easy growing up. Before I met Lou, I probably would’ve been rude and said something nasty to the guy, but he taught me never to judge someone before you get to know them. He said if my gut gave me a bad vibe, then I should proceed with caution, but otherwise give everyone the benefit of the doubt. He knew what he was talking about, considering he grew up during desegregation as a dark-skinned black man in the South. He was constantly judged by the look of him.
As I’m standing there quietly remembering Lou, a guy whose whole physique and demeanor screams cop, approaches with a confidence you usually only see in fighters. He has an easy smile and a hand held out, ready to shake. “Hi, I’m Grant Malone. I can’t believe The Punisher is here in Sunnyville.”
“Nice to meet you. Please call me Keegan. I take it you like boxing.”
“Yeah, my brothers, Grady and Grayson, and I get together for all the big televised fights. Those two drove to Vegas to see your last fight earlier this year. Now Grayson has a man cave where we can watch the fights. What are you doing in Sunnyville? Retired already?”
“Not sure yet.” I take a drink of my beer as I stall a little. “Right now, I’m just taking a break. Decided to open a gym, and if I want to go back to fighting, I will; if not, this suits me fine.”
“I didn’t realize boxers were so laid-back.”
“They usually aren’t, but I lost my coach earlier this year and I’m just trying to figure out what’s next.”
Grant nods his head. “I get it. So, will you have lessons? I’ve always wanted to try boxing. My brothers and I used to duke it out all the time, messing around, but none of us had training.”
“Yeah, I’m offering lessons and plan to start a boxing league soon. It’s good to see some interest. I’ll let you know when I get the details worked out.”
Grant pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and passes me a business card and I read it. “Detective Malone.” I glance up and ask, “So you must work with Collins Sutton?”
“Yes and we’ve been friends for years. She's the same age as my brothers, but I remember her eating mud pies, so I’d say we go way back. Why do you ask about Collins?” His gaze goes from curious to slightly protective in half a second.
I sense the big brother routine coming on so I try to head it off. “Her brother, Sam, works for me and he and I are becoming friends, so I’ve been around her a few times. That’s how I ended up here tonight. Sam invited me. I don’t think Collins likes me very much though.”
“Collins? You don’t want to be on her bad side. That woman defines redheaded temper, but if you avoid pissing her off, she’s one of the coolest women I know, besides my wife, Emmy. Collins was around for most of the trouble my brothers got into when they were younger. She was always up for an adventure and it was usually with them. She’s not a big fan of injustice but what really gets to her is people messing with Sam or Ahmod. She will fight to the death for either of them. What did you do to make her dislike you? Obviously nothing to Sam or Ahmod since they were both smiling at you.”
I lift my hands in an I’m-telling-the-truth gesture. “Nothing. I gave Sam a job and made friends with him. I met Ahmod a few minutes ago and I thought it went okay. She seemed to hate me on the spot the day I hired Sam and that hasn’t changed in the few meetings since.”
“That’s not the Collins I know at all. Maybe you just rub her the wrong way. I guess that happens sometimes, even with the coolest of women.”
I laugh when he says “coolest” referring to Collins because she does throw out that frosty vibe, but I know that’s not how he meant it.
“What’s so funny, Keegan?” Sam wanders up to us and asks.
Grant chimes in, “I was just telling him that I remember when your sister used to eat mud pies with my brothers.”
“That’s gross. No one should eat mud.” Sam’s nose wrinkles.
“Yeah, that’s what my mom always told me, but my brothers were dumb and I think they ate ‘em too.” We all laugh this time.
About that time, two other guys who look eerily similar to Grant approach us, one of them smiling like a loon as if he can’t contain his excitement.
“Dude! Someone told us The Punisher was here, but I thought they were full of shit. Wait till Luke hears about this. He’s a huge fan!”
Grant laughs. “My nephew. He’s quite the fan. I’m pretty sure he has a poster with you on it in his room.”
That’s something I don’t think I’ll ever really get used to—people excited over my boxing persona. In my head, I’ll always be the punk kid who Lou pulled off the street. “Bring him by the gym so I can meet him.”
I shake hands and exchange introductions, but it’s Grady who looks at Grayson and says, “Holy shit! Luke’s gonna go nuts
! That would be awesome; I want to be there when you do it.”
When I glance around the room to locate Collins again, I find her talking to a cute, short-haired, curvy rocker chick who looks familiar. She stands out a little in this crowd. Grant leans over, following my line of sight. “I see you spotted Dylan.”
“Is that Dylan McCoy?”
Grady’s voice drops. “Malone. She’s now Dylan Malone, but yes, it’s her.”
Grant takes the conversation back over. “Yeah, she married my brother last year and has been hanging out here ever since. She’s still writing songs and now performing them, as you know, without her ex.”
“That’s cool. She’s got an amazing voice. Does she really write all her own music?”
“Yeah, she disappears into the guest bedroom for days at a time and I have to drag her out to be social,” Grady replies.
“I’ll introduce you when she heads this way, and she will. She and my brother can’t keep their hands off each other. They’ve probably met their allotted time across the room from each other by now.” Grant and I laugh at his remark, but I can’t help but be envious of that. Not because of who she is, although she is a curvy, sexy little thing, but because I’d love to settle down and have a family. I’d love to have a wife I can’t keep my hands off of and teach my kids what Lou taught me. If it weren’t for him, I’d be dead or in jail. But more than that, he didn’t just teach me how to be a man, but how to be a good man. There is a difference.
We make small talk for a while, until Sam gets antsy and tugs on my sleeve to leave the conversation. I reach out to shake with all the guys and remind Grayson to bring his son by after school one day. The rest of the night is uneventful, except for the fact that every time I scan the room, I find Collins watching me. Of course, she quickly averts her eyes, but it’s too late to pretend like she hasn’t been looking at me.
Around ten o’clock, I notice she’s chewing on the inside of her lip a little as she watches Ahmod tell an animated story using his hands. She jumps slightly as Ahmod smashes a hand into the drink of someone from a group close to them, causing it to spill all over the floor. She laughs as she tries to find a paper towel to help clean it up. Her laughter is quiet, kind of like her, but still sweet enough to keep my attention.
Ahmod leaves the group to clean up the mess that ended up down his arm, and the others disperse. I decide to approach, thinking maybe she won’t be quite so defensive.
“You need some help?” I query as I squat down next to where she’s wiping the floor.
“Nope, I’m good. Just finished.”
I attempt to help her up but she brushes me off.
“Where’s Sam?” she asks as she balls up the paper towel and launches it to the trash can like a basketball. When it goes in, she gives a little fist pump and a quiet, “Yes,” heavy on the s sound. I chuckle.
“He’s over there talking to someone I haven’t met yet. I saw you over here alone and I thought I’d join you.”
Her eyes narrow on me. “What’s your deal?”
“What do you mean?” I wonder out loud.
“Do you always spend your Saturday nights hanging with handicap kids and mooching off of their hospitality?”
I jerk back like she slapped me. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I lower my drink and tilt my head, trying to get a better look at her. Hoping the ugliness she just spouted didn’t really come out of her beautiful mouth.
“You know exactly what I mean,” she hisses.
My eyebrows hit my hairline and I stand quiet for a second, watching her anger bubble below the surface. We stand there, locked in a stare down, and I lean in so close she can probably feel my breath. If I was a different man, I would kiss that mean mouth of hers, God knows I want to, but I won’t get near a vicious woman.
“I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m not who you seem to think I am. I’m not hanging with some handicap kid on a Saturday night. I’m hanging out with a grown man, my friend. The only real one I have in this town so far. If you don’t like your brother being my friend, maybe you need to talk to him about that, but don’t make this about a disability. I don’t see any of that when I look at him. I see a kind heart, a good soul and the first person to really reach out to me here. You can stop worrying; now that you’ve shown me what kind of person you are, I’ll stop trying to put any effort into friendship with you.” After I lay that on her, I dump my empty water bottle in the recycle bin and stalk away.
“Sam,” I say loud enough to get his attention when I reach him. “I think it’s time for me to head out.”
“You have to leave?” His disappointment is clear.
“Yeah, pal, I work out early tomorrow, and it’s getting late.”
“Okay. I will see you on Monday.” He reaches out to do our handshake and when it’s done, I address the others in the group. “Goodnight. It was nice meeting you guys. I’ll see you around.” Then I make my way out of the house and into the night. It’s way too early for me to go home, but I have a lot of crap running through my head. I worked out hard this morning and don’t think working out again would be good for my already tired muscles, so I take a left and head to the local bar.
The place is busy but there is an empty barstool that looks like it was once occupied, if the two empty glasses are anything to go by. I push the dirty glasses out of the way and catch the bartender’s eye. “Can I get Woodford Reserve on the rocks?”
The middle-aged bartender nods and moves away to prepare my drink. When he returns, he asks, “Want to run a tab?”
“Nah, I only allow myself one.” My dad taught me early in life that drinking too much is the fastest way to ruin your life.
He nods again and drifts away, returning after a few minutes with a receipt. “I hate to ask this, but are you The Punisher by chance?”
I give him a polite smile and nod. “Yeah.”
“I heard you were here but didn’t believe it. Is that really your gym, the new one?”
“Yeah, we just opened.”
“That’s pretty sweet, man.”
“I think so. You should come check it out.” I pull out a card and pass it over to him. “I’m there every day except Sunday.”
“I’ve never boxed before.”
“Maybe not, but if you’re interested, I’ll be giving lessons and starting a boxing league. It may be worth a look and even a try.” I shrug, excited for my new business venture, but not wanting to oversell the place. Nothing turns me off faster than pushy sales people. There seems to be a lot of interest in this town for boxing; maybe with the lessons and league, some people will wander in and sign up. That isn’t why I opened the place, but it would be a good way to keep the doors open and feed the love of the sport.
I’m about halfway through sipping my drink and watching a San Francisco Giants game on the television screen behind the bar, when a dose of strong perfume assaults my nose and a warm body slides in way too close to me. Ugh. This is why I stay out of bars most of the time. Because I stay in shape and I’m a big guy with a couple of scars, women expect me to be some kind of bad boy that can bring a little trouble to their bedrooms. Once I figured out their game, with Lou’s help, of course, I stayed away from women like that. It didn’t take long.
“Hey there, handsome,” the squeaky-voiced blonde whispers way too close to my face.
“I’m Chris, short for Chrysanthemum.” She licks her lips in what she probably thinks is a provocative gesture, but it only serves to turn my stomach a little. “My friends told me you’re The Punisher. I’ve got something you can punish.” She bats her eyelashes at me and I can’t help but cringe a little. It’s not the first time I’ve heard that play on words when it comes to women, but damn, that’s not the kind of woman I want to take to my bed. Time to shut this down.
I pull a couple of bills out of my wallet and put them on top of the check before I glance over at Chris. “It was nice to meet you, but I have an early morning, so I need to hit the ro
ad.”
“You haven’t even finished your drink,” she whines.
I pick up the glass and toss the rest back. Then I turn and leave before she can get her fluorescent pink claws in me.
Six
Collins
I’m such a bitch. I’m so busy trying to protect Sam that I sometimes forget how easy it is to love him even if he’s not a member of your family. I probably owe Keegan an apology but he already left. As I’m standing there pondering this, Emerson, Grant’s wife, and her best friend, Desi, move in next to me. Desi speaks first. “Alright, spill the beans, girl.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I saw Keegan come up to you and try to help you clean up. Then I saw you say something. I watched him go from relaxed and laid-back to locked up and ready to rock in half a second, followed by his quick exit. Did you tell him you kick puppies or something? I take him for a dog guy.”
I roll my eyes at her attempt to lighten the subject a little. “No, I was a bitch.”
Her head jerks back. “You? Our mild-mannered, ass-kicking lady cop?”
“Ugh. I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Too bad; I’m over here and I’m already in your business. So spill it.”
I sigh, embarrassed to admit what I’ve done. “I accused him of taking advantage of Sam.”
“You didn’t!” She smacks my arm, admonishing me as she stands there, staring at me, her eyes wide and shocked.
“I’m not proud of it, but when some hotshot boxer moves to town, hires and befriends your Down’s syndrome adult brother, it makes you wonder what his play is.”
Emerson groans, obviously frustrated with me. “Okay, time for you to listen.” She rests her hand on my arm. Desi tries to interject, but Emerson holds up her other hand to stop her.
“Being suspicious is what makes you a good cop, but, and I mean a big fat but, you have to remember how likable Sam can be. He’s everyone’s friend and we all watch out for him. We know there’s a lot on you since you moved back after your mom died, but we’re all here to help in any way we can, but especially with Sam. We all look out for him. Even when your mom was alive. She gave him more freedom than she was comfortable with because she knew most of the town was looking out for him and wouldn’t let any harm come to him. As for Keegan, you know what it’s like to move to a new place and not have any friends. Wouldn’t you like to have met someone like Sam your first few weeks in Colorado Springs? Who better to show the new guy around than your brother? He knows the whole history of the town, along with practically everyone around here, and he’s a hard worker. Your mom always praised him for that. He’s probably a huge help to the new guy in more ways than one. If you’re nervous about Keegan, do a background check, and if something isn’t right, you’ll know it pretty quick. Though I did meet the guy, and none of my douchebag alarms went off.”