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Authors: Nikki Wild

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BOOK: KNOCKOUT
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Seven
Bria

I
t sounded
like a giant was banging on my front door. I had to practically pry my eyes open to see the clock. 9:30 AM. Whoops. I guess I overslept.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Hang on, I’m coming,” I yelled.

Bang! Bang! Bang!
It was more frantic this time.

“I said I’ll be there in a second!”

As soon as I turned the lock my door flew open and Kaitlyn wrapped me up in a giant hug.

“Oh my God, Bria, what the hell!?”

“I… What?” I said, as I tried to shake the disorienting feeling of being awakened from a dead sleep.

Kaitlyn threw her arms out in exasperation.

“Uh, hello? You were supposed to text me when you got home!”

“Oh, sorry,” I said. “I had a really rough…”

“And then I called your work and they said you never came in this morning. I thought you were dead!” She was practically shrieking at this point.

“Okay, I’m sorry, but something did happen.” She quieted when she saw the look on my face.

“What? What happened?” she asked, now in a more reserved whisper.

“Someone attacked me when I was walking home. He tried to rape me…”

“Oh my God, are you okay? Oh no, oh no, oh no, I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone. I’m the worst friend in the world!” Tears were already streaming down her face.

“It’s okay Kaitlyn, I’m fine. Someone saved me.” I placed my hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye so she would know I was okay.

“It was a really close call but this guy, he came out of nowhere, and rescued me. I guess I was just so freaked out by the whole thing I passed out.” All of my senses were now beginning to return.

“Did you call the police?!?”

“I called them… But there isn’t much they can do. He’s a big white guy in an old Buick… And I didn’t get a look at the other guy…”

“There were TWO of them?” Kaitlyn shouted.

“It’s ok. They didn’t hurt me… Who did you talk to at my job? Did they sound mad?”

“No, I think your fine,” said Kaitlyn. “I talked to the receptionist or whatever and she said they were concerned though. She said it’s not like you to not show up without giving someone a call.”

“Okay, good,” I said, collapsing back onto the couch. “I’ll call them in a minute.”

“So, wait,” said Kaitlyn. “You said somebody saved you. Like some random guy, or what?”

I fiddled with the tv remote control while I tried to remember everything that had happened the previous night. It came to me in flashes like I was trying to remember the details of a dream.

“I was just walking home. I mean, there was this guy in line behind me at the gas station who gave me the creeps. It was weird too because I never even looked at him in there. He was just kind of
off
, you know?”

Kaitlyn nodded her head. It wasn’t often she stayed silent. She was hanging on my words like they were the difference between life and death. In a sense they were.

“Then,” I continued, “I tried to brush it off like it was my imagination getting the better of me. I convinced myself he was just some drunk in there to buy cigarettes.”

Kaitlyn’s brow furrowed. She could tell what was coming.

“Anyway, I started to walk home. I was thinking about things, kind of in my own world, you know? It was stupid but I wasn’t even paying that much attention to anything around me.”

“Dude,” Kaitlyn interrupted, “you always should pay attention when you’re out alone. Even I know that.”

Thanks for the great tip.
I thought, sarcastically.

“Yeah, well, it was my bad, like I said.” The words came out with a bit more of an edge than I would have liked but she understood.

“So I was about halfway home when the psycho started chasing after me.”

“The guy from the store?” she asked.

“Yeah, I told you I didn’t look back but I could just feel it was him.”

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed in a low whisper.

“I ran and ran as fast as I could. He kept gaining on me. He caught up to me when I reached the corner at my street and tackled me.” Telling the story to her was more draining than I would have imagined. My stomach was starting to churn just thinking about it.

“He dragged me to his car and took me over to the other side of town. I didn’t even really recognize the area. There were a lot of empty office buildings and factories and stuff, but mostly I just remember it being really dark.”

“Was he saying anything to you?”

“Not really. He told me his name was Rick for some reason. I knew I was in deep shit though because he kept looking at me like I was some piece of meat or something. Kept licking his lips and staring at my chest.”

“What happened next?”

“Uh…,” I searched for the best way to describe what happened next. My head was starting to pound. “He started to grab me. He had a knife and was holding it to my neck while he tried to pull my pants down with his other hand.

The blood drained from Kaitlyn’s face. “Did you fight back?”

“At first, yeah, but he was too strong. I kicked and squirmed as much as I could be he was big. I could hardly breath under all his weight let alone get away. He had my door blocked in too, so there was no jumping out and running.”

“This is disgusting,” she said.

“But then, right when I was about to give up, I saw him.”

“Who?” she asked, now with a bit more life in her voice.

“Some guy. He was out for a run when he heard me screaming in the car. I guess he wanted to help me so he came over. He just threw open the car door and ripped the asshole off of me. It’s like, one-minute I was ready to accept the horrible thing that was about to happen to me and the next my problems were gone.”

“What happened after that?”

“He beat the shit out of him is what happened. That fucking wannabe rapist probably has a few broken bones and his face is all busted up from what I could see.”

“But what about the other guy? You said there was two of them?”

“I didn’t see the other guy… I think Rick was waiting on someone in the alley but I didn’t see him until he almost ran me over with the car.”

“Did the cops get anybody?” Her questions were coming a mile a minute.

“They didn’t.” I said, plainly. “They got away...”

Kaitlyn grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen for me. My voice was starting to crack. It was more from the emotion than being parched, either way I accepted it gladly. I took a long cool drink to help me collect myself.

“So… Does this hero of yours have a name?” She was still tentative but her tone was more relieved.

“His name was Luke, he had a gym nearby and that’s where his car was parked so he gave me a ride home.”

“He had a gym, like, what do you mean? He was working out after midnight?”

“I mean he owned it. It was his place,” I answered.

“And his name was Luke?” she asked. The way she was looking at me told me she knew something I didn’t.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just keep going,” she said.

It was an odd thing to say but I continued. “I called the cops and told them what happened, then he drove me home. That’s it.”

“What did he look like?” Kaitlyn asked.

“I told you he was a fucking creep. Nasty teeth…”

“No, the other guy… Luke,” she asked.

“Seriously, Kaitlyn?” I replied. “A fucking crazy pervert assaults me and you want to know about the
other
guy? Give it a rest.”

She shook her head and a small smile crossed her lips. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you’re okay. It’s just…”

She walked across the room and picked my macbook pro up off the floor. “Sit down,” she said.

I watched as she pulled up the browser and punched something into Google.

She flipped the macbook around in her hands and faced the screen toward me.

“Was this the guy?” she asked with a triumphant smirk.

I couldn’t mistake those piercing dark eyes. It was definitely my hero from the night before. The reaction on my face said what I didn’t have to.

“I’m right, aren’t I?!” she exclaimed. “How do you not know who Luke Greer is?”

“I… what?” I said, now more confused than ever.

I tried to read the headline of the article she had brought up but she snapped the machine shut and almost fell over backwards, laughing.

“That’s crazy,” she yelled in astonishment. “Have you been living under a rock for the last year?”

“Why, who is he?” I asked. I remained guarded, although her excitement was peaking my interest.

“Bria Hudson I told you that stupid job was consuming you. The only way you wouldn’t know about Luke Greer is if your head was buried in legal documents. Do you ever even talk to anybody besides me?”

“Okay, shut up,” I said, this time with a little more force. “I get it. Just tell me who he is.”

“Wow!” exclaimed Kaitlyn. “He’s only the biggest sports star in the world right now.”

She covered her broad smile with both hands and rocked back again. I nodded for her to keep going.

“He’s practically put Atlas City on the map all by himself. The guy is a HUGE star.”

“Okay, but what does he do?” I asked.

“He beats other guys into the ground and he make A LOT of money doing it. They said on the news he made over a million dollars for his last fight. That gym he owns is legendary. Top athletes and fighters come from all over the world just to train with him.”

“So, he’s a cage fighter.” It was more of a question than a statement. As Kaitlyn talked on excitedly the pieces all fell into place. The vague familiarity I’d had with him that I just couldn’t place, the gym with that big cage inside, all that flash with the car and everything. I couldn’t believe it.

“Yes he’s a fighter! Like the best fighter in the world! The man is a complete and total stallion.”

“Alright, I get it. Calm down already, he’s just a jock.”

“He’s not just some stupid jock, Bria. Luke Greer is about to be a superstar and he just saved your ass like in some kind of movie. Oh my God, you said he dropped you off, did he come inside?”

I hesitated and she jumped all over me like a shark on fresh blood.

“He did!” she screamed. She had to cup her mouth again so she didn’t wake up everybody in my building.

“Luke Greer was in your house,” she squealed like a schoolgirl. “Oh my God… Did you?!?”

“Nothing happened!” I warned before she got too carried away. “He only wanted to make sure I got home safe.”

“Yeah right,” she said enthusiastically. “He could have made sure you were home safe from the parking lot. No way, Bria, he wanted to make sure your bed was nice and warm.”

I thought about our embrace and decided against telling her.

“No he didn’t Kaitlyn. He was just concerned about my safety and that’s it.”

“Whatever,” she said, barely letting me finish. “You can lie to me but I’m your best friend. I can tell something else was going on. What did he look like, at least?”

“You know what he looks like,” I replied nodding toward the macbook in her lap. Besides, you’re the one who seems to be so infatuated with everything about him.

“No, I mean, what did he look like in person. Was he tall?”

I sighed and decided to give her a little bit of what she was after.

“He was tall,” I said. “Well over 6 feet.”

“You said he was out for a run… was he sweaty?” she asked.

“Kaitlyn, I…”

“C’mon! How did he look?” It was more of a demand than a question.

“Good. He looked really good.” I sighed, finally giving in. “He was wearing this skin tight shirt, you know, like the ones made of that neoprene stuff?”

She nodded in anticipation.

“His arms and shoulders were big, but he didn’t look stiff in the way he moved them. A lot of times guys who lift weights will get this stiffness in their upper body that I don’t like, but he didn’t have that.”

“That comes from doing a lot of flexibility exercises,” Kaitlyn giggled. “I bet he stretches a lot too.”

“Yeah, and he had a really nice “V” shape too,” I continued. “His broad shoulders tapered down toward his thin waist perfectly.”

“What about his face? He looks really handsome on tv. Was he like that in real life?”

I thought about it for a second. “Yes,” I said. “In fact, if you hadn’t told me he was a fighter, I never would have guessed it. His face was flawless. I’d expect a guy like him to have broken his nose a few time, or whatever. But he looked really good.”

“Mmm hmmm,” said Kaitlyn, encouraging me to continue.

“His skin was this really nice tan, but real, not the kind you see on those Jersey douche bags. But his eyes, Kaitlyn, OH MY GOD! I swear, I think he could see everything that was going on in my head with those eyes.”

She threw her arms around me and laughed. “You’re so lucky. You have no idea what I would do to have Luke Greer save me and then come to my house. So what time did he leave in the morning?”

“I told you nothing happened,” I laughed. “He came in, we had a little moment, and he took off?”

She gave me a look that said
‘yeah, right.’

“I’m serious. He knew what I’d been through, and I think he just wanted to be a gentleman.”

“Okay, so what now?” she asked.

“Nothing now,” I replied. “That’s it. What do you want me to do, send him a thank you card?”

“No! Go see him! You have to go talk to him, Bria.”

“I can’t.”

“But you have to,” she pleaded. “What if he was really interested in you? We were just talking about this. It’s the perfect chance to do something that will take your mind off of Kevin.”

“I don’t know, I’m not the kind of girl who chases after guys like that. It’s not really my style.”

“What
is
your style,” she asked, pointedly.

“I have to go to work,” I sighed. “See you later?”

“Of course,” she said. “But you better at least think about it.”

Eight
Luke

W
hack
! Whack! Thump!

I swear, the sound of gloved hands destroying a 100 pound punching bag was enough to jack my testosterone through the roof.

“Let’s go, Luke. One-two, one-two-three. Throw you combinations!” Jimmy barked. “Push hard! You’re almost done.”

I unloaded two more left hands and a high kick that let off a window-shaking thud.

“That’s the way to do it, Kid!” Jimmy was in his late fifties and had been training boxers his whole life. He brought me into his gym when I was a kid and taught me everything he knew about the fight business. When I hit it big, I flew him out to Atlas City and gave him a job as my top striking coach. He loved every minute out here.

“Thanks, Jimmy,” I said, swiping a bead of sweat from the end of my nose. “No matter how big I get, it doesn’t stop you from torturing me in the gym.”

‘That’s right, Kid. That’s why you’re gonna beat Simmons, too. Not only are you the most skilled, but you’re gonna be in the best shape.”

“Not to mention the best looking, too, right?”

“Shit, Luke, you might wanna ask one of these young gals runnin’ around here that question, not me.” He wrapped the nylon string around his stopwatch then clapped a big hand on my back. “But, yeah, I bet your face wouldn’t look too bad on a Wheaties box one day.”

Jimmy rolled his shoulders the way all old boxers do, and made off for the locker room. I surveyed my gym to see just who was left.

Other than a pair of new guys working on grappling techniques in the corner, there were only a handful of girls hanging around the entrance. That’s where they always waited at the end of the day. They just wanted a chance to take a shot at me as I walked out.

It was the usual mix. Some tall and leggy, others short and stacked. They all seemed to have some sort of blond or colored streaks in their hair. I guess creativity is at a bit of a premium these days…

On the way to the showers, one of the shorter girls called out to me. “Hey Luke, you need any help soaping things up in the shower?” They all giggled.

I stopped to eyeball her. She was about 5’1” with dark, loosely curled hair that almost reached her ass. It was thick, shiny hair that seemed almost silky. She wore that all-to-familiar pouty expression on her face.

“How about we go back there together?” she suggested.

“Not today, ladies, sorry.”

They all booed and whined at me in that playful and immature way those kinds of girls do.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t you like us,” one said.

Another one yelled, “My friend and I could go back there and give you a massage.” She poked her hip out to bump another girl forward.

“Yeah,” said the friend. “She could get your back and I could take care of the front.”

They all exploded in laughter. I didn’t break stride. Instead, I beamed a confident smile and slipped into the locker room.

My gym bag was vibrating.

Buzz, buzz. Buzz, buzz.

Shit, I bet it’s that promoter again.

I snatched my phone from the side pocket.
Don Buting.
Yep, one slimy promoter coming up.

“Yeah?” I answered, indignantly.

“Luke, it’s Don. How ya doing man?”

“Wondering why you’re calling me Don,” I said. “You know my rate. Unless you’re ready to write a check we don’t have any business to discuss.”

“Easy, easy,” he said. I could almost imagine him holding his hands out in the over-exaggerated way that he had. “I think I have something that might work for you.”

“I’m listening,” I said. My thumb danced around the ‘end’ button.

“Simmons is willing to give you the majority of the gate. He said you can take the thirty-five percent and he’ll get fifteen. He wants to make this thing happen.”

“And my contract purse?” I asked.

“I can do a million. That’s what you want right?”

“It’s a million-five, now,” I said. “That’s the tax you’re going to pay for disrespecting me last week.”

There was dead air.

“You want one point five million? You greedy son of a bitch, I should tear up the contract right now…”

Beep.

I ended the call and tossed the phone. It had barely hit my gym bag before it started vibrating again. I accepted the call but didn’t say a word.

“…Luke, are you there?”

“Now it’s two,” I said. “And if you ever talk to me like that again, I’ll go fight for another organization so fast your fuckin’ head will spin.”

“Geez, okay, I’m sorry,” he sputtered. “But let’s not be unreasonable. Two million dollars is a lot of money, Luke, and with your take on the ticket sales your gonna have more than you know what to do with. How about we do the one and half. I can make that happen.”

“Two million,” I said, firmly. “You do that and my thirty-five percent and we have a deal. No talking to my agent of any of that bullshit. You can make the deal right now, Don.”

“Okay, Luke. Just let me put in a quick call the other shareholders and I’ll see what they have to say about it.” He was on the defensive, big time.

“That’s not what I said, Don.” We make this deal right now, or it’s not going to happen.”

He let out a long sigh that made him sound like a deflating air mattress over the phone. “Okay Luke, you’re killing me here.”

“I’m not even close to doing to you what I
could
, and you know it,” I said. “So do we have a deal, or not?”

“Fine,” he said, with forced enthusiasm. “It’s a deal. You are going to fight Eric Simmons for the world title this coming April. I’ll get on the phone with his people and iron out the details. How does that sound, ch-”

I ended the call before he could get the words out.

BOOK: KNOCKOUT
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