Full Body Contact (10 page)

“Dekker … Dekker …” Then the entire crowd picked up on it. “Dekker … Dekker … Dekker.”

His arms tightened around her, as all eyes swung toward them. Alexis’ rib cage strained under the pressure.

The announcer caught sight of them and gestured for Dekker to join him on the stage. Keeping Alexis close, Dekker guided them ringside as people patted him on the back. Shouts of approval and shrill whistles circulated around the room.

Alexis felt both relieved and disappointed as his arms dropped from her waist. Dekker then vaulted over the ropes in one swift motion and joined the announcer at the center of the ring. He lifted his hand in acknowledgment of the crowd’s adulation.

“This crowd wants you back, Dekker!” the announcer shouted, sweeping his arm wide.

A roar of approval filled the room. Apparently the fans loved Dekker. Especially the women. They frantically waved their hands in Dekker’s direction as they screamed his name.

Dekker shook his head as he jammed his hands in his front pockets. “Only as an official, I’m afraid. Too many war wounds for the ring.” He gestured toward his face.

Not pleased with his announcement, the crowd booed and hissed at Dekker. How quickly their affections could change. Apparently, they were rabid for a real fight.

Raising his voice, Dekker shouted, “But what if I offered you a catfight to end all catfights?”

The crowd split on both sides of the ring as two women—at least Alexis thought they were women—walked toward the ring. With bunched muscles and thick necks, if it weren’t for their sports bras, it would be hard to tell that they were female.

After the fanfare, Dekker gave the signal to start the fight. Clawing, kicking, biting, and punching. There was nothing off-limits, and these women took full advantage of it. Through it all, Dekker danced around the fighting, shouting encouragement. Alexis’ stomach turned as one of the women pulled a fingernail out of her arm, tossing it on the mat. The other woman spat a mouthful of blood that landed inches from where Alexis stood.

One woman pinned the other to the rope, and then proceeded to pull a chunk of hair out by the roots. Enraged, the woman picked up her opponent, lifted her over her head, and flung her down on the mat. With a fistful of hair, she repeatedly slammed her opponent’s face on the mat. Dekker wrapped his arms around the woman and pulled her off, kicking. She looked like a crazed animal.

The crowd went wild, praising her ferocity. Dekker lifted her arm, announcing her the winner. The other woman was quietly dragged out of the ring. The scene was like Darwin’s theory playing out in real time. Survival of the fittest.

Alexis nodded as her head swam. She wasn’t sure if it was from the adrenaline rush of the fight or the stifling heat of the warehouse. As they wove their way through the crowd several bystanders tried to stop Dekker, but he plowed on.

When they exited the building, Dekker turned to her. “Now, just think. If you get good enough, that could be you up there.”

Over Dekker’s shoulder, she watched as the woman who lost the fight was carried out and loaded into the back of a van.
That’s
what he wanted for her?

Dekker squeezed her arm playfully. “Jeez, woman. Joking.” But his smile faded, and his expression turned serious. “I’d kill before I let someone hurt you like that.”

Alexis met his gaze. The shouting from inside faded away. Dekker raised his hand, cupping her cheek. The pad of his thumb brushed across her bottom lip.

This time, he wasn’t joking.

* * *

Dekker reluctantly tore his gaze from Lexie. Shouts and muffled grunts came from the end of the alley. He caught a glimpse of Bull’s hulking form on the ground, curled into the fetal position. Five men surrounded him, kicking and punching. Dekker recognized them as Bull’s opponent and the opponent’s training crew.

Sore losers. He charged over, grasping two of them by the neck. Dekker yanked them off his student, slamming them into an overflowing Dumpster. An uppercut and a right hook left them both unconscious.

“Behind you!” he heard Lexie scream.

Dekker jumped into a spinning side kick, nailing the guy approaching. The pipe he was holding clattered to the ground. He was knocked off his feet, and the air left his lungs in a
whoosh
.

Another guy approached from the side—his teeth bared. Dekker rushed him, wrapping his hands around the back of the guy’s head. Dekker smashed the guy’s face into his knee. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

Three down. Two to go.

Bull moaned, trying to push himself up. Eyebrow split, eye swollen shut, and a tooth dangling by a thin piece of tissue. Tomorrow, Bull would probably brag in class how he took on five thugs single-handedly. Since Bull held his own in the ring, Dekker just might let him own it.

Dekker backed up a step, keeping the last two guys in his sights. The one who had the pipe pulled a serrated blade from his waistband, waving it in front of him. Coward. The guy didn’t have a problem with beating a man with his bare fists when the odds were five to one. But now that he was matched up—well, not even close to matched—he was going to hide behind his knife.

Blocking the knife with his left arm, Dekker yanked the blade out of the guy’s hand. Bringing it around to bear, Dekker pressed it to the braggart’s throat.

“Like I was saying,” Dekker said, pressing the knife hard enough to draw a thin line of blood. “In the ring. Understood?”

“Yeah. Sure,” the guy stammered.

Dekker kept the blade biting into the guy’s flesh so that the lesson would be remembered with a scar. Then, he lowered the knife and shoved the guy down the alley. Tossing the knife from hand to hand, Dekker looked at the other guy.

“You next?”

The guy’s eyes widened. Then he simply turned and ran. Smart move.

As he crossed over to Bull, Dekker chucked the knife into the Dumpster. Lexie already knelt next to Bull. Concerned, she looked at Dekker.

Dekker watched Bull limp around the corner, feeling like a proud father. All the lessons and beat-downs finally paid off. “He’s a big boy. He can make his own decisions.”

She didn’t look quite so convinced. But hey, at least she didn’t puke or anything. That was many a woman’s reaction to what just went down—both in the ring and out here. He took her by the hand and strolled down the alley toward the car. Their hands swung gently forward and back, forward and back.

As they reached his Mustang, Lexie stopped. “May I ask you something?”

“Depends,” he answered, a little wary of where the conversation might lead.

“Why did you let them go?” she asked. “You could have left a swath of broken men back there. What is rule number three? Never let them get up?”

Dekker chuckled. “In the ring, my dear. In the ring.”

“Really?” she said as her eyebrow shot up. “You never took on five-to-one odds in a back alley?”

“There was a time when I would have,” Dekker shrugged, but then lowered his tone. “But right now, I can think of better ways to expel my energy. Can’t you?”

He pulled her close to him, their groins separated only by their clothes. Lexie’s cheeks flushed red as her breath came in starts. He loved it when he threw Lexie off guard. Yeah. There definitely was a wildcat under that shy exterior. And that beast was slowly clawing her way to the surface.

That’s my girl,
he thought. He knew that she wouldn’t turn down a challenge. She was too stubborn for that.

* * *

“Bowling?”

As the crash of pins sounded around them, Alexis stood shocked. This was so not what she expected. Dekker didn’t seem like the bowling type. Football, rugby, fighting a bear with his bare hands, sure. But
bowling
?

Dekker offered Alexis a pair of bowling shoes. The only other people in the alley were two teenagers at the far lane. The sign above the pins advertised eighties night. The lights were dim, and a disco ball spun a rainbow of colors around the room.

“Yeah. Where did you think I was taking you?”

Um, someplace that involved several Class A felonies,
but she didn’t want to voice it out loud.

“Back to your house so you could have your way with me?” she offered, trying to channel Callie.

Actually, wasn’t she a little disappointed that he hadn’t done just that? Trying to cover up her momentary lapse, Alexis rushed on. “Instead, you choose to throw a ball down a lane and hit pins?”

Dekker lined himself up, stepped forward, and released the ball. It crashed into the pins, sending them ricocheting off the walls.

“Impressive,” Alexis said as she grabbed her own ball. Was there anything that this guy couldn’t do?

Once the pins were reset, Alexis swung the ball down the lane and watched it head straight for the gutter. Now she remembered why she hated bowling. Because she sucked at it. Her high score ranged in the double digits.

“You aren’t picturing your target.”

Dekker retrieved her ball and placed it in her hand. He stepped behind her, guiding her arm. His voice lowered. “This is just like fighting. Paint a bull’s-eye in your mind, and then strike without thought.”

Alexis turned her head, giving him the “Are you crazy?” look. “Okay. Now you
really
are scaring me.”

“See it. Then make it happen.”

Right. Wax on. Wax off. Humoring him, she took a deep breath, lined up the ball, took two steps forward, and then went to release the ball.

Focusing her attention on the ball, she willed it to hit the front pin. Still the ball angled toward the gutter, then grazed the edge, sending it spinning back toward the pins. It knocked down five, which fell into the other pins. The only one left standing teetered until it finally fell over.

Alexis squealed, threw her arms up in the air, and spun around. Dekker picked her up, spinning her. As he lowered her, he let her body slowly slide down his. Her arms wrapped around his neck. His head dropped until their foreheads touched.

“I knew you had it in you.”

A small part of Alexis’ heart ached for Dekker to be innocent. He had been through so much. Was it wrong to wish that this tenderness was real? That he had left all that violence behind? He could have seriously messed up Bull’s attackers, but instead, he had simply scattered them to the wind. And look at where he brought her. All-American family fun.

Alexis let her hands slide down Dekker’s chest. His muscles were hard and warm under her palms, his breathing was slow. The laughter washed from his eyes, replaced by a burning desire. Her gaze dropped to his lips. She wondered what they would feel like on hers. Would his kiss be passionate or tender?

As if reading her mind, Dekker leaned in until his lips softly brushed hers. He leaned back, judging her reaction. Alexis gripped his shirt, her lips parted. She didn’t want Dekker to stop. The flutter in her belly demanded more. Tugging him closer, she captured his lips. When his tongue touched hers, she moaned into his mouth. Dekker’s solid arms kept her from falling to the floor. An ache spread from her navel, traveling down between her thighs.