Slam: A Bad Boy Romance (20 page)

Here we go, asshole.
I thought to myself, stepping to my side as we circled each other.

I watched his chest, the pace of his breathing, looking for the hint of him coming in to strike. My first teacher had spent a lot of time on the body movements of your opponent. You could read them, see where they were going to go, when they were going to make their move.

That small lesson, it helped in more ways than one. When it came to women, I could read them like a fucking handbook.

Now, All I wanted was to fill my library with Cadence. This was going to be the last time I would ever need that trick.

I watched his eyes and where they went, his fists and where they were placed. I looked for a twitch, a heavy inhale, all of it would help me stay one step ahead.

Big D shook in his left leg, suddenly he lunged in my direction, his leg coming up in a high kick. On reflex, I ducked and swiped his stable leg out from beneath him. Hitting the mat hard, he grunted in surprise.

Stepping back, I let him pick himself up. I could have jumped on him, gave him some quick jabs to the head, but I didn't want to lose it like last time.

I glanced over at Cadence, she watched nervously, arms folded. A hand twisted a strand of hair in a spiral, bound so tight, the tornado shaped strip reached her scalp.

The floor began to vibrate, Big D had started to charge in my direction.

Well, I guess he hadn't seen that coming.

He bowed out his elbow, trying to drive it into my head. Dipping to the side, the thick mass crashed into my shoulder. A throbbing pain shot down my arm. His once thin lips curled up in a smile.

In one swift motion, he spun around, his knee raised high, ready to meet my back. Jumping forward, I avoided the blow. Spinning on my toes, my leg flew up, shin connecting with the muscle of his neck.

Big D stumbled back. Holding his throat, his teeth emerged. Every muscle in his body firmed, his solid jaw cocking out in anger.

I wasn't sure how long I was expected to keep this up. Louis wanted me to go down, to give in to the beast ready to tear my fucking head off.

The energy in the room was electric, the screams and hoots filled my ears, every eye was fixed on us in a hungry gaze.

Turning my attention back to my opponent, his hands jetted up, again he charged at me. Gripping my shoulders, he tried to throw me to the ground. Grabbing his wrists, I twisted out and kneed him in the ribs.

Releasing a gut wrenching growl, Big D landed on his knees. Holding his side, he tried to stand. Quickly I laid into his face, connecting with his jaw. His head whipped towards his shoulder, falling on the mat, he sat dazed.

Catching the Macro in the corner of my eye, he jumped from his seat, eyes wide, eagerly watching, waiting for him to pick himself back up. That was the first sense of fear I had seen in Cadence's father. His face flooded with worry, hopeful I hadn't just fucked up his plan.

He was expecting me to give in, take the loss for him and let his ego grow.

But I had decided right when I entered that fight, I wasn't giving in to him.

I was going to win.

Cadence was clutching her chin, a slender finger divided her lips. Her eyes were on me, but her mind was someplace else. She looked terrified.

Big D pushed himself up, his feet unsteady, eyes spinning in his head as he tried to regain his balance.

I drew my hand back, fist tightly rounded, fingers tucked in deep. I was going to finish this, knock him the fuck out and be done. It didn't bother me anymore that Louis had tried to use her against me. I had already won Cadence, and now I was going to win this match.

There was no way he could actually force her into the arms of someone else, not anymore. That brought me comfort, knowing she had tore herself from him.

A loud bang rang out through the room, the roar of the crowd was replaced by screams. The words started off muffled, people began to dart in all directions, the hoard of onlookers bounced into each other in confusion.

“This is the police! Everybody freeze!” A group of cops had stormed in from the entrance, their guns raised high, some were dressed in full swat gear, sweeping their weapons around the crowd.

Immediately, I looked at Cadence, her head spinning wildly, trying to grasp what was going on. She was getting tossed around like a rag doll, her small frame jostled forcefully between people shoving and pushing their way through.

Leaping from the ring, I cleared a path. Reaching out, I grabbed her arm. Her eyes were filled with shock and fear. “Are you alright?”

Shaking her head 'yes', she clenched my waist. “What's going on?”

“It's the cops.”

“Come on!” she yelled, pulling me towards the back inlet where the fighters got ready.

There was so much confusion around us. A whirlwind of bodies running in every direction, screams from the police sliced through the air. Making our way through the sea of debris and people, we tucked into the shadows of the back cove.

Glancing over her shoulder, she eyed the scene behind us. Ducking into the blackened wall, she tugged on a small latch. “In! Go!” A half sized door was hidden in the wall.

A subtle glow emerged from inside as I bent and ran in, Cadence followed closely. Shutting the door behind us, she pulled a thin lock across the top.

“What the hell is this?” I asked.

“Go, keep walking.” She pressed her palms into my shoulder blades, guiding me forward.

We were in a small corridor, the ceiling was high, wood beams ran down the side with small, dull lights that lit the way.

Brushing the webs from my face, I asked her again, “What is this?”

“It's our way out.”

“Okay, where does it go?” I tried to look back over my shoulder. We were walking single file, my arms barely a few inches from brushing each wall.

“We're in between the walls, it's an old maintenance hallway, it'll lead us out, I hope.”

“You hope?” Her split second of doubt wafted over my brain. I tried to turn around, my shoulders brushing the dusty walls.

Cadence pushed me forward, refusing to stop. “I don't know what's waiting for us at the end, if the cops are all over, then we're screwed.” Her voice reverberated off the narrow hall.

Reaching the end, another door of the same small stature outlined the bottom of the wall. Cadence inhaled a deep breath, I could feel her uncertainty riding her lungs. “Open it slow, we'll be in the alley on the side of the building.”

Sliding over the metal latch, I cracked the door. A cool gust of clean air spilled in, the freshness filled my nostrils, climbing over my skin with relief.

The alley was quiet, no lights filled the darkness, the white noise of walkie talkies echoed in the distance. “It's clear,” I said, opening the space wider and stepping onto the sidewalk.

Cadence poked her head out and turned it left to right, emerging into the glow of the streetlight. “Well, I didn't see that coming.” She ran her fingers through her hair, hand falling to rest on her hip.

“We should go, I don't think we want to hang around here,” I said. The sirens enhanced in volume, red and blue streams faintly colored the night sky.

“Here, you might need this.” Cadence tossed me the shirt I had left with her. “Sorry, I didn't have time to grab your shoes.” She eyed my bare feet, now dirty and dusty from the path we just crossed.

Wriggling my toes, I chuckled. “Well, hopefully we don't hit any rough terrain.” Holding out an open palm, her delicate fingers wrapped around mine.

I couldn't stop staring at her. Mascara ran under her eyes, dirt smeared her cheeks, long wisps of dust were draped in her hair.

And all I could think was how beautiful she still looked, how happy I was to be standing with her in this alley, barefoot and dirty.

Nothing mattered, she was here with me.

That was all I wanted.

And all I needed.

Cadence

S
tanding half off the sidewalk, I waited for the walk sign to light white. The wind blew through my hair, tousled strands danced in the breeze, blocking my view of the street.

'Walk' lit brightly and I scurried across the crosswalk, feet pounding the pavement like I was in a power walking marathon. The thumping of my sneakers sent vibrations through my thighs, chest heavy as my lungs tried to keep up with my stride.

I was supposed to meet Quinn in half an hour, our plan was to go grab lunch before his next class at the center. After all his hard work with the kids, the center finally offered him a paid position.

And with his knowledge, experience, and love of fighting, some of those kids have ranked top in the state in league competitions.

He had something he was finally proud of, and he deserved every bit of it.

I was happy for him, it was nice to see him wear a coat of pride. He stood holding his head high, walked with a sense of meaning. He had found his place in this world, and it showed.

Gripping the metal pull, I stepped into the building. The flurry of voices and grunts filled the hall. Slowly, I tugged the door, not wanting to startle anyone inside.

Stepping onto the platform, my hand freed the door from my grip.

'Clank!” The loud pop rang out across the walls, fifty sets of eyes all flicked up in my direction.

Smiling with my lips tight, my arm bent at the elbow waving uncomfortably. The pause in the room seemed to last forever. “Alright guys! Focus!” an instructor yelled, clapping his hands to draw them back in.

Glancing through the faces, I spotted Quinn, resting against the back wall, one arm fixed on his hip. Curling his free hand through his hair, his teeth bared brightly, eyes frozen on me.

I pointed to my wrist like I was wearing a watch and nodded my head towards the exit behind me. Peeling his shoulders from the wall, he raised a finger and leaned down towards his students.

Quinn was a great teacher, he had the patience of a saint.

Resting on the rail, I watched him adjust the placement of one of the kids arms. His lips moved, but I couldn't hear his advice. The kid looked young, blue tape wrapped his small hands, the shorts he wore looked a size too big. His hands repeatedly tugged on the trim to lift them up.

I loved watching Quinn in action, the faces of all his students fixed on his words, on his training. The small boy nodded and followed his directions. Quinn smiled down on him, shaking his head 'yes' and ruffling his hair.

My fist held my chin up, as I stared at the man who had swept me off my feet, saved me from becoming the person I hated. I could never thank him enough for showing me that life didn't have to be cut out for you by someone else; you needed to mold the life you wanted.

Meeting my gaze, he made his way around the small groups in class. His muscles flexed, the ink dancing rhythmically across his flesh.

That's mine, all mine.
A surge of excitement heated my belly, tingles ran up my spine.

“Hey, ready for lunch, babe?” he asked, jumping steps as he climbed the platform. Rolling his shirt over his head, he leaned in and kissed me. The delicate peck filled my brain with sparks.

“Yeah, I'm starving.” I ran my fingers over his forearm, twirling the seam of his shirt.

“Good, me too.” He pushed the door open, guiding me out by the small of my back. “There's a little Italian place around the corner that's pretty good.”

“I don't care where we go, as long as it has food.” Chuckling, I placed my hand on my stomach, the grumbling so loud I was sure he could hear it.

The sun hit my eyes as the door broke open to the street, my hand shot up trying to adjust to the brightness. Quinn's arm fell across my shoulders, tucking into his ribs I snuggled up beside him as we walked.

“Have you heard from your dad?” he asked.

After the raid, my dad had been arrested, along with a number of other guys. Nico, being one of the guys included in their hunt. And honestly, I can't say I'm upset about either arrest.

From what I had learned, they'd been watching the place for a while. Turned out one of the Macro's top bidders was an undercover cop.

They had a barrage of video, audio recordings; and after tearing through his office, a whole stack of papers to use against him.

Luckily, for me, they hadn't found the small stash of cash my dad had hidden in our apartment. I don't know how, but his makeshift safe in the bathroom ceiling went unscathed.

“No, thank god.” Rolling my eyes, I rubbed my forehead. “But, they want me to testify against him in court next month.”

“Are you going to?” His question was riddled with concern.

Wrinkling my nose, I shook my head side to side. “I don't think I want to, they don't really need me to anyway. They have plenty of shit to use against him.”

“On a brighter note, how's your tattoo? Itchy yet?”

Lifting my sleeve, the fresh ink flaking from healing. “Yeah, like I have poison ivy.” I slapped the new mark on my forearm.

It was the tree of life, blanketing the inside of my arm, the roots worked up from my wrist, the top opened out with leaves dabbed in green. Small birds escaped the canopy, flying up towards my elbow. Through the center, a smooth script had been written in french.

'Toujours Ma Mere.'
Forever my mother.

I had wanted to get one for a long time, one that would signify her life. The roots were her birth, the stem and foliage was her life, and the birds were her moving on. There was one single bird I had left in the tree top, that was me.

I was her legacy in this world.

Before, I wasn't allowed to mark my body, now that I was free, it felt amazing to have this work of art representing her to me.

“Here we are, love. Let's go eat.”

The restaurant was small and felt cozy the moment the savory scent of homemade pasta hit my nose. A sign stood at the doorway, 'Please Seat Yourself.'

Finding a table tucked in the back corner, I slid into the seat across from Quinn. A grin was smeared across his face, his eyes twinkled with delight.

“What?” I asked, twisting my head to the side. Every time I saw that gaze fall over his face, I knew he was up to something.