“Fucking guy has an entourage,” he mumbled.
“See what I mean? That’s all you see. That’s why you’re falling from grace. This Tiger Desmond has submitted to drug testing so many times I'm surprised the guy has any blood left. You’ve been a lucky motherfucker. But this guy, he’s on the up and up, that’s why he’s where he is.”
“Okay, Mack. I hear ya. I’ve heard you for months, and I’ve been trying.”
“Trying isn’t enough, Joe. You’ve been lucky. Now, there are rumors, and the media has gotten hold of your Goddamn dalliances. It all stops now. Do you hear me? I’m trying to butter up these guys. Let them see you’re a contender and maybe get these people to take you seriously.”
He heard Mack. For the first time in a long time, he experienced the hunger. That knowing presence, the one that made you train hard, made you do everything you could to excel in the ring. Tonight he had to be on his best behavior. He needed to show this Tiger Desmond that he was worth setting up a bout with.
“You can count on me. I’m tired of fucking up, Mack. I’m heading for Bernie’s now. He’s been calling me for weeks, reading me the riot act as far as training goes. He’s right. Even when there is no fight scheduled, I should still be training like there is one.”
“Joe, I hope you’re right. You blow this chance, and you’re finished. You’ll never fight in any of the big venues again.”
There was dead silence on the other end of his cell. Mack had hung up. He shoved the phone back into his pocket and got in his car. He needed some sleep. The trip was short. He pulled up in front of his apartment building and was in his place in minutes, stripping off his clothes. He needed to jump in the shower and clear his head.
He had another chance at setting up a few good fights. He wasn’t going to blow it now. When he was done, he wrapped a towel around his body, went to his dresser drawer, and pulled out a small black box. The box was filled to the brim with cocaine, a few hundred dollars’ worth. For the first time in months, he was able to look at the white dust with disdain. Here was his downfall. His hands shook. He knew what he had to do. He flipped open the lid to the toilet and let the white dust hit the water. He flushed. He wasn’t looking back any longer. He threw the box in the garbage, went to the kitchen, and opened his refrigerator. He grabbed some orange juice, guzzled down a few ounces, and put it back. He needed sleep. He needed peace. He needed more. Darlene Russo might fill that need if he was lucky.
He felt the corners of his mouth lift in a small smile. The woman made him feel like no one else could. He liked how it felt. He wanted to experience more of her. What if she was pregnant? The thought rushed blood to his cock. A baby, his kid, Christ, he was thinking like a besotted fool. He fell onto his bed and closed his eyes. He really needed some sleep.
****
The room was spinning. Darlene held on to the wall. What was wrong? Had she gotten the flu? Oh, damn, Devon; she didn’t want her little boy to get it. He’d had his flu shot, but she had passed on it. She broke out into a sweat. She ran into the clubroom, into the bathroom, and heaved up her guts.
“Christ, I forgot what it’s like to have the flu,” she whispered aloud. She got up and rinsed her mouth with cold water, and then she caught sight of her image in the mirror.
“Oh, no!” she yelled. “Oh, fucking, no!” she screamed. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening. What was I thinking? God, please, no,” she said, pacing the cold marble tiled floor. “I can’t be. Nope, this is not happening.” She stopped to look at her image again. “You stupid woman,” she uttered quietly. “You’re knocked up. You’re pregnant. Don’t even think that Joe Murphy gives a shit, because a man like that doesn’t.”
Darlene Russo broke into tears then hysterical sobs as she slid down the wall of the bathroom to the floor. Despair encompassed her. However, before she let herself fall completely apart, she needed to take a pregnancy test to confirm her fears.
She stood up, feeling a little better, and began to clean the large room. Her mind settled down as she realized everyone around her at work had been sick. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, what she needed to do was her job. She’d make the lavatory sparkle, then she’d get a home pregnancy test and pray.
Chapter Eleven
Joe knew the routine. He showered and shaved, leaving just the right five o’clock shadow. He chose his clothing carefully, white custom-fitted shirt, black leather sport coat, baggy designer jeans, and a pair of Italian leather motorcycle boots. He needed very little to set off his six foot two inches and over two hundred pounds of muscled physique. He was the epitome of a heavyweight boxer.
Tiger Desmond was six foot three inches tall and a two hundred and twenty-five pound wall of muscle. His skin was ebony, his hair short cropped, and his mannerisms impeccable. The guy oozed sexual appeal and dominance, in and out of the ring. He had an entourage of women and men of all races who followed him and served him. And most important of all, not one reporter or VIP who met him could call him anything but a gentleman. He’d wooed the public and played them like a fiddle.
Joe checked his reflection. He did have an edge over Tiger Desmond. The heavyweight champion didn’t have his rugged good looks. He’d always had an edge because he was handsome, but he’d let that get the better of him. He let it go to his head. He needed to take what God gave him far more seriously, and it wasn’t just his good looks, it was his talent. When it came to boxing, he had a gift. He had a right hook, that when it was on, had the ability to take a man down with one punch. He was incredibly strong, always was, even as a kid.
He headed toward Bernie’s Gym. He needed a good workout. He needed to start training. He needed to sweat and have every muscle in his body ache. He needed to come alive again. He wanted a crack at the title. For the first time since he began his professional career in boxing, he wasn’t so sure of himself. She was responsible for that. Darlene. She made him think and for the first time in a while, he didn’t see himself as all that. He was a man and like any man had to prove himself.
As he sank deeper into self-decline, he’d lost a great deal of his cockiness. But that was a good thing. He began to realize if you wanted something bad enough, you had to work for it. Fame and fortune had come too fast for him. Perhaps Darlene was rubbing off on him. Without telling him her life story, she volunteered just enough information to let him see her road hadn’t been easy. There was something so good about her, something so enticing. He realized with her, it was the whole package.
He wanted to impress only one person as he opened the heavy door to the gym, and it wasn’t Tiger Desmond. He shook his head. How had one woman affected him the way she did.
He heard that familiar sound, the pounding of the punching balls, as young and old trained. He was eager to begin, and his hands were itching. Bernie grinned like a Cheshire cat as he approached him.
“Well it’s about fucking time you got your ass back here,” Bernie said.
“Yeah, yeah, let’s not rub that shit in, you old bastard. I’m here. Who do you have who is willing to spar with me?” he asked as he shook the old trainer’s hand.
“You’re not sparing with anyone. You need to train, punch the shit out of that ball. I need to see how far your neglect went.”
Then he saw her. She came walking out of the back room in a pair of torn jeans and a black tank top. She sported a helmet and red boxing gloves and had to be at least five foot nine inches tall. She wore her blond hair pulled back in a low ponytail, and her arms were impressive, muscular, yet feminine.
He wondered if his mouth fell open at the sight of her. He touched his chin. Yes, it had. He’d seen female boxers train at Bernie’s before, but no one like her. He caught sight of his trainer’s face, and the old coot smiled at him. He walked up to Bernie.
"What the hell are you smiling at?” asked Joe.
“You. I saw your face when you saw her. Forget it. She likes pussy just as much as you do. You think she’s something? Wait until you see her
girlfriend.”
Joe turned around slowly and watched her beat the shit out of the overhead punching bag. Damn, she was strong. He kept his eyes on her ass. It was firm and perfectly shaped. Shame, he thought, only pussy. He would, if they’d let him be the cream in the middle of that sandwich cookie. As much as some of the lipstick lesbians told him they didn’t like cock, he’d had some wild threesomes with a few so-called lesbians.
Joe began to saunter over to her, but stopped. Was he ever going to take his career seriously? This is how he had fucked up. Sniffing blow and chasing pussy were his downfall. Then Darlene’s face came to mind and his thought process came under control. There was no way you could think of Darlene as a piece of ass. Man, he was in trouble. Thoughts of her turned him on, made him hot, and made him want more. He turned, passed Bernie, headed straight to the dressing room and his locker.
As he passed Bernie, he smiled at his remark. “Now that’s a first, passing up some possible pussy. You must be serious.”
Before he entered the locker room, he stopped. “I guess I am, Bernie. She’s not my type anyway,” he said as he passed the old trainer.
“Since when do you have a type? Christ, I think you’ve nailed everything female that has walked through this door.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Maybe it’s time to get serious.”
He stopped at his locker and entered the combination code. He’d almost forgotten it, and that’s when he realized how neglectful he’d been about his training. It was time to get back on track. It was time to forget about stray pussy.
When he opened his locker, he saw that Bernie had obviously been in there. His trunks were clean and folded, along with his towel, and socks. His training shoes were shiny and almost looked brand new. Once again, he felt that small ache in his chest. People cared about him, and he was letting them down. Then his thoughts went to Darlene. Was it possible the woman could care about him? She’d rattled his brain. Was it just the sex? Joe knew it was more, much more.
Joe had begun to wrap his left hands when Bernie came in.
“Let me do that. It’s hard to do it yourself.”
It felt like old times as Bernie wrapped his hands. When the old trainer was done, he slapped Joe on the back and left him sitting there. Joe could only grin. He came out onto the gym floor and toward a free small red punching ball hanging from the ceiling. He began his ritual, and the punching and the rhythm took hold. He’d punch that sucker until his hands ached then he jumped rope until his knees felt like they were on fire.
Something had snapped inside of him. He was ferocious as he slammed into the ball. He’d be ready tonight to meet with Tiger and his so-called entourage. He and Mack would show up, and he’d ask Bernie to clean up his act and come along. A few more serious matches and Joe hoped he could convince Tiger Desmond to consider setting up a match with him. He’d come close but then the losses began.
As he punched away, he let his mind clear. It was when she approached him, the tall female boxer training, that he realized he was back. His hunger had returned.
“Hello, you’re Joe Murphy, right?” the blonde asked.
He turned and gave her a quizzical look. “Yeah, I am,” he answered.
“You have a great right hook. I’ve seen you knock a few guys out with one punch.”
“Nice of you to notice. Had a bit of bad luck lately but then I wasn’t serious about this sport or winning.”
“Well, at least you’re not a woman. Harder, you know, at this end,” she told him as she punched away at the overhead ball.
He could see her face plainly now. She was pretty. But she wasn’t Darlene. Maybe he should punch himself in the head. He needed to stop his foolish thoughts. A woman like Darlene, once she came to her senses, wouldn’t consider him anything but a good fuck.
Chapter Twelve
Darlene heard her phone ring, but she could only think it was her mother calling to lecture her as she always did. She wanted her and Devon to come live with them now that her father was ill. What she really wanted was Darlene’s help but was too stubborn to ask for it. Life would be easier if she did. She might even be able to get a day job. However, that decision was up in the air now that she was pregnant again.
She toweled herself off and wrapped it around her as she walked to her cell phone. When he checked the number, she broke out in tears. It wasn’t her mother but her doctor. The news was on the way. She redialed.
“Hello, this is Darlene Russo, I’m returning Dr. Aaronson’s phone call.”
“Please hold. I’ll get the nurse,” the receptionists said.
Darlene could hardly breathe. Life had to be so difficult, and hers had always been a nightmare. Devon was the only person that ever shed any light on her life, so maybe another baby might just her destiny.
“Hello, Miss Russo, I’m not sure if this is good or bad news, but you’re not pregnant. Well, let’s say not anymore. You said a pregnancy test concurred you were?”
“No, no, I never took a test. I decided to see a doctor right away instead. I never put much faith in anything over the counter.”
“Well, all the blood work confirms you’re not pregnant. I hope it was the news you were waiting for.”
“Yes, doctor, yes it was. Thank you,” she answered, pushing the button to end the call.
Disappointment wasn’t an emotion she expected to experience. She sunk to the floor crying but wasn’t sure why she was so upset. After all, how could she possibly afford to have another child? How could she tell Joe Murphy? That was out of the question.
For once God had listened to her pleas. Everything was over. No babies and no more Joe Murphy. Life would go on. Another decision she knew she had to make was not moving in with her parents. When she needed them, they had turned their backs on her. Now that they were older, she helped when she could, but living there was a big mistake.
In a few minutes, life had taken such a sharp turn. Her tears ran down her face, her nose stuffed up, and her life was the same, exactly where she’d left it, alone and unloved. She climbed into bed.
****
He showered and left the gym, his body already feeling the strain of his workout. He smiled. It was a great feeling knowing that every muscle in his body ached. It has been a while since he’d worked out to the maximum and it felt good. He was on the right track.
He grabbed his keys and checked his watch. He still had a few hours before he had to be at the Coliseum. His thoughts were in one place and on one woman. Tonight could possibly be the beginning of a new era in his life, and he was tired of being alone. He wanted and needed to share this night with someone, and Bernie or Mack didn’t fit the bill. Darlene did.
He pulled up in front of the Coliseum. He needed to shake down someone in there to find out where she lived, or at least get her phone number. He wanted her with him tonight, and Goddammit, he would do anything to get to her. He drove around the back and went to the employee entrance. He rang the bell.
An older guy came to the door. He recognized him as being one of the supers from the cleaning crew. “Hi, I need your help,” Joe said.
“Mr. Murphy, the meeting isn’t until eight p.m. tonight. You’re really early.”
“I’m not here for the meeting. I need a favor,” Joe said, hoping he could convince him to give him what he needed.
“Please come in, Mr. Murphy. I’m Charlie Adams.”
Joe had to be cool and come up with a good reason why he had to get in touch with Darlene. He stood there thinking, hoping he was looking pensive and serious. “Excuse me, but I need to get in touch with one of your employees, Darlene Russo,” he said, trying to show no emotion on his face,
“Darlene? Has she done something wrong? She’s one of our best employees,” he said.
He had to think quickly. “No, not at all. I bumped into her a few nights ago, and caused her to drop her phone. I might have even broken it. I’d like to buy her a new one. Sometimes I can be a clumsy oaf.”
“Hold o
n please, Mr. Murphy, I believe she’s off tonight. Let me check the schedule.”
“If she is, then would it be all right if you gave me her address and her phone number? I’d like to try and text her to see if it’s working. If not, like I said I’d like to buy her a new one. Better yet, if you give me her address−I’d never bother her. I could have a new phone delivered.”
“Sure. I have it right here in my phone.” Charles pulled up Darlene’s number and address then let Joe see his screen. Joe copied it. “Thanks. I appreciate it. She lives close, that’s a good thing,” he added.
“Yes, thirty-ninth street. Riverdale apartments you can’t miss them. I’m not supposed to do this, but since it’s you Mr. Murphy.”
“Thanks,” Joe said. “I hate when I’m so clumsy. After all, she’s a working woman and phones are expensive. Oh, and Charlie, mums the word here.” He almost added that he knew she had a kid, but he stopped himself. That would definitely be far too much information. He didn’t want to cause any suspicion.
He texted Darlene first, figuring he’d break the ice that way. Then he’d ask if she could do him a favor.
Hi!
She texted him back.
How did you get my number?
Charlie Adams. I lied to him … told him I broke your phone. Darlene, I need your help tonight. I need a date.
What? She texted back.
You read it right. I need a date, and I’d like that date to be you. Can I come over to see you? You’re only a few minutes away. Please?
Charlie threw me under a bus. Yes, Joe, you can come and see me. I presume he told you where I live also.
Yup.
I’m going to have a little talk with Charlie. She texted.
Not his fault. Mine. I am Joe Murphy, you know.
Right. She texted. How can I forget that!
Her last remark made him smile. He put his phone back in his pocket and left through the back door. His heart was racing. Christ, he felt like a seventeen-year-old going to see his girlfriend. However, Darlene Russo wasn’t his girlfriend. He had to behave himself. He smiled. For some reason when he was around her, all of his good sense went out the window. Damn, he had enjoyed fucking her.
A Dominant Anthology Page 24