Undefeated - A New Adult Romance Novel (2 page)

“Mike, this is Shane Dekkar. Shane this is Mike Ripton,” the trainer said.

The two men nodded at each other and touched gloves. The bald headed man stared into the eyes of the young man and winked.

“Alright, you two know how this works. I suppose we’ll go ten,” the trainer said.

The two men nodded and separated. Mike Ripton walked slowly to the corner of the ring.

The young man followed the trainer to the opposite corner. The trainer inserted a mouthpiece into the young man’s mouth.

“You sure you’re ready?” the trainer asked.

The young man nodded as he bit
down on his mouth piece.

“At the bell,” the trainer stated.

The young man nodded.

The trainer positioned himself beside the manager of the gym at the table beside the boxing ring.

“Well, let’s see what this kid’s got,” the manager said.

Ding!

The two fighters approached each other cautiously. The young man took a stance with his right foot forward and began to study the other fighter. A few flurries of punches to the young man’s body followed.

“Southpaw?” the trainer asked.

The manager shrugged.

The young man switched his feet
to an orthodox stance, now leading with the left foot.

“What’s he doing?” the trainer asked.

The manager shrugged his shoulders again.

The young man unleashed several punches to the lower torso of the other fighter.

“God damn, he’s quick,” the manager stated as he stood and crossed his arms.

The young man threw a quick right jab, sending the other fighter backward.

“Shit, he’s got the Ripper on his heels,” the trainer said as he stood from the bench.

The young man
followed with a left jab, and a quick right hook. Ripton stepped backward and attempted to become stable on his feet. His feet staggered as he stepped. As the young man leaned toward the body of Ripton, he swung a devastating left uppercut.

The glove made a crushing impact with Ripton’s chin.

“God damn, this kid’s….
oh, shit
. Ripper’s
down
,” the trainer said as Mike Ripton fell to the mat.

The young man stepped to the side of Ripton’s body.

Ripton’s trainer jumped into the ring and ran toward his motionless body. As Ripton’s trainer spoke, the fighter slowly raised himself to his elbows.

Ripton’s trainer wa
ved his arms toward Kelsey.

“Looks like you got a new fighter, huh Kelsey?” the manager asked.

“Looks like it,” the trainer responded.

“Come here, kid,” the trainer said sternly toward the young man.

“
Come here
,” the trainer repeated as he held the ropes upward.

The young man, focused on the
body in the center of the ring, shook his head from side-to-side.

Slowly, Mike Ripton sat up. As he
stood, for stability, he held onto the shoulder of his trainer. As Ripton began to move, the young man slowly walked to the center of the ring.

The young man tapped his glove on the shoulder of the other fighter.

“Good fight,” the young man said.

“Nice shot, kid. I didn’t even see that fucker coming,
” the other fighter said over his shoulder.

The young man turned and walked slowly toward the trainer.

The trainer held the ropes upward as the young man stepped under them and out of the ring.

“Are you interested in working with me?” the young man asked.

“Kelsey, call me Kelsey. And the answer is yes, kid,” the trainer responded.

“
Shame On
Shane Dekkar, sir. That’s my name. I prefer if you call me Shame On, Shame, Shane, or Dekkar, or Dekk, sir. I don’t particularly like being called
kid
,” the boxer stated.

The manager chuckled
as the young man chastised the trainer.

“Well,
Shane
. Welcome to Austin, Texas,” the trainer responded as he pulled the boxer’s dog tags from his pocket.

The boxer stepped from
beside the ring, bent at the waist, and lowered his head toward the trainer’s hands. The trainer reached over the boxer’s head and placed the dog tags around his neck and removed his headgear.

“I’m going to change and go see the city. If possible, sir, have me a fight for tomorrow afternoon,” the boxer said.

“Call me Kelsey,
I don’t particularly like being called sir
,” the trainer smiled as he responded.

“
Noted,” the boxer said as he nodded his head once sharply.

The boxer turned and began walking toward the locker room. His walk possessed a certain confidence
– a swagger.

“Why you suppose he walks like that?” the manager asked as he watched the boxer walk away.

“
Because he can
,” the trainer responded.

KACE.
Trying to figure a way to get out of a relationship and not feel like a complete failure is difficult. Most people will never understand why I have stayed in the relationship with Josh as long as I have. As much as I hate the way that he has treated me, I cannot imagine giving up on us - giving up on our relationship.

I don’t think I know how to be alone.

When I think of it, my head gets all jumbled up and I get scared. Sometimes when I think of leaving him I shake. As soon as I start shaking, I change my mind. I often wish someone would decide for me.

Each time
that he has beaten me, I deserved it. I remember the time when I was eighteen, right after high school. Josh was twenty-one. He had to work overtime that day, and he came home exhausted from a long day at work. He asked me about dinner, and I back talked him. He just lost his temper. He never would have hit me if I hadn’t talked back. It was a really long day for him.

Every time he
has hit me, he later reminded me it never would have happened if I hadn’t deserved it. He always told me he wished he didn’t
have
to do it. He said if I would just learn my lesson and learn to respect him, he wouldn’t have to hit me. Sometimes I wish I
would
learn my lesson, and other times I wish I was with someone else - someone that didn’t have to hit me.

Josh and I met when I was sixteen. I have never been with
anyone else. I doubt, from what he says, that anyone else would ever want me. I have no idea what it’s like to have another man or even talk to one for that matter. Josh doesn’t let me talk to other men, and he monitors my text messages and phone calls. He doesn’t allow me to have Instagram, Snapchat, Facebook, or Twitter. He takes my cell phone and goes through all of the files in it whenever he wants to, checking for pictures. He said it teaches me to be honest and loyal. I suppose he’s right, but it still bothers me.

When I am at work, I think about what it would be like to have a man trea
t me like the men in the books I read. I doubt that those men really actually exist. If they do, I’d sure like to have a man like that. One that cherished me and told me I was beautiful. Maybe he would hold my hand and take me to a movie. It would be nice to feel wanted. Josh had not had sex with me for several years and I felt ugly because of it. A woman needs to feel wanted. Even if she doesn’t feel loved, she needs to feel as if someone wants or desires her.

Because Josh didn’t make me feel wanted or desired at all, and had not for years, I often daydre
amed about other men. I would never cheat on Josh, and even though he wasn’t nice to me, I wanted him to just want me. I wished that he desired something that I had to offer him. That desire, however, never comes. I don’t daydream about a book boyfriend saving me. I’m not like those girls in the books – not like
that
.

I don’t need to be
saved
.

I
choose
to be in this relationship, because I want this to work, and I do not want to give up on us. I don’t want to fail. I only want to be loved.

I’m a strong woman, and my persistence in this relationship stands as proof of my strength
.

For the last few years
I have been thinking about my book boyfriends more frequently. I often daydream about them and what it would be like to actually be with them – to have what it is that’s depicted in the books. To have the hardship, the recovery, and the relationship that I often read about. It really started when Josh held his knife to my throat and told me I was
a dumb bitch
. We had been arguing more than normal because he quit making love to me. The first time I asked why, he slapped me and said it was because he wasn’t attracted to me any longer. I was ugly inside and out. He didn’t slap me once when he slapped me. He slapped me until he was tired of slapping me, or until I learned my lesson.

The second time
I asked about wanting him to make love to me, he choked me and held me against the wall by my throat. I blacked out and woke up on the floor.

The third time
I asked, he held his knife to my throat and told me to never ask again. Josh has a temper, and I don’t want to learn any kind of lesson that has to do with a knife. I just want him to love me the way I love him.

I try
, and I try, and I try, but I can’t seem to ever make the right decisions with Josh. I always make bad decisions or make a mistake and make him mad. I wish just once that he would be happy with me, and maybe tell me he liked what I cooked him for dinner. I often wish he would just tell me he liked how I looked or notice when I got my hair cut or colored. The people I work with notice, but Josh never does.

I try so hard
.

He used to tell me those things, but not anymore.

Not since he held his knife to my throat.

I was excited all week for tonight
to get here. Josh told me if I didn’t do anything stupid all week, he would rent a movie on Friday and we would try to watch it together. I hoped that tonight would be the night that things turn around. If we could get along for just one night, I would hold on to those memories for ever.

As I sat in the truck and read, Josh
got out and walked toward the Red Box to get the movies.

I sat quietly and read quickly as Josh looked through the selection of movies that were available to rent. Reading was my form of escaping. I could escape everything by reading. It was easy for me to dream of being the character in the books that I read. A good book could make me laugh, cry, or get so aroused that I had to touch myself. Without reading, I would go c
razy - completely crazy. My Kindle had become my savior.

“They ain’t got
Black Hawk Down
or
Pulp Fiction
,” he said over his shoulder as he stood in front of the Red Box, staring at the screen.

We haven’t watched too many movies together over the
ten years we’ve been together, but we’ve seen those two movies no less than a dozen times a piece. I like doing anything with Josh, but sometimes I wish he would think about something that would make me happy. I’d like to watch
The Notebook
or something like that. Maybe
Safehaven
.

“Well, fuck. They ain’
t got nothin’ to watch at this shit-hole. Fuckin’ pisses me off. Maybe we should just hit the liquor store and get a thirty pack and hang out at the house,” he said as he got into the truck.

I slipped the Kindle into my purse.

My heart sank as he started the truck.

Josh drank a lot. When he drank, it made me shake. When he drank, he was always mean. He always said he
deserved
to drink; because I drove him crazy, or he had a tough day at work. I tried to hide from him when he drank, but hiding tonight would be impossible to do.

“Why you got that shitty look on your face?” he muttered as he shoved his lip full of tobacco.

I shook my head slowly.

“What? You got something to say? I really ain’t in the mood for your mouth, you little bitch,” he barked as he wiped his hand on his jeans.

I wanted to tell him to get a different movie. I felt like crying. Why couldn’t we have a night together that we didn’t fight? Why did he have to drink so much? Why did he have to chew tobacco? It made his breath stink and his teeth were brown. To have him, for one night, be kind to me – I’d let him beat me for a week.

A week of having my face slapped and called names.

In exchange for one night of calling me beautiful and kissing me.

“I asked you a fucking question,”
his jaw clenched as he shut off the truck.

Oh no. Not here. Please not here. Please, Josh.

“You see what I mean? You fuckin’
ask
for it. It’s like you
want
it. I’ll never understand what drives you to fight with me, woman,” he said, and then opened the truck door and stepped out and into the parking lot.

He walked around in front of the truck, up to my door, and opened it.

“Gimme your fuckin’ purse,” he snarled as he held his hand out toward me.

“Gimme that sum bitch or I’ll slap your mouthy little ass right here in the parking lot,” he growled through his clenched teeth as he spit tobacco juice into the parking lot by his feet.

I handed him my purse.

He opened my purse and looked inside. He reached into it, shuffled through the contents, and pulled out my Kindle.

“This little motherfucker has become a problem. I know you talk to people on it. I
know
you do. Talk to people and read that fuckin’ filth,” he tossed it onto the asphalt beside his feet.

“Josh, no. Please,” I begged.

“What, afraid you ain’t gonna be able to reach your fuckin’ boyfriend? You little whore,” he snapped as he raised his boot over the Kindle.

“Josh, no. I don’t have a boyfriend. And I don’t talk to people with that. I just use it to read. It’s my only way to escape,” I sobbed.

“Escape? What the fuck you gotta escape? See? You always dig a hole,” he held his boot over the Kindle, raised his eyebrows, and spit again.

“It’s that mouth Kace, always getting’ you in trouble. See? Now I
gotta
do this, and it’s your fault, you did it, not me,” he said as he stomped the screen of the Kindle with his boot.

As he twisted his heel
into the screen he shook his head.

“I
was
gonna scare ya and give it back. Hell no, you had to pop off and get lippy. Hell, I’d have liked to had a good night and a fuckin’ movie. You just don’t seem to give a fuck about my
feelings
, Kace,” he said as he bent down to pick up the smashed Kindle.

I looked down into my lap and wiped the tears from my face.

“Everything alright?” an unfamiliar voice asked from my right side.

I wiped my face and looked up through the opened truck door.

Ohmygod.

And there he stood -
faded jeans, black boots, dark hair, sunglasses, and a black hoodie. He had his hands in his hoodie pockets and the hood half over his head. He quickly alternated glances between Josh and I. Slowly he pulled his hand from his pocket and removed his sunglasses. As he turned my direction his steel grey eyes met mine and he paused.

I
wanted him to help me. Save me from Josh and take me away.

But.

I said nothing.

His face was covered in a few days growth of beard and was absolutely gorgeous.
His jaw was tight and his facial features distinct. And. Those. Eyes.

“Ain’t nobody talkin’ to you, slick,” Josh said.

Slowly and methodically, the stranger turned from facing me to facing Josh.

“Well, I
was
addressing
both
of you, asshole. But I suppose now I’m speaking to
her
. Are you alright?” his tone changed from stern to pleasant and soft as he turned from facing Josh to face me again.

He studied my face.

Although his mouth didn’t form one, his eyes smiled. The temperature in the truck rose a hundred degrees. I melted into my seat.

I felt myself getting wet.

Take me with you, please. Save me.

I nodded.

“Are you sure?” he asked again, softly.

“Kace,”
Josh said flatly.

Quickly, he turned and looked at Josh. He stared at him for a long second. Josh looked at the ground. The stranger slowly turned back toward me.

I nodded.

The stranger turned to Josh, who was holding the smashed Kindle in his hand.

“Ain’t your business, slick,” Josh said to the stranger as he looked down at the ground.

“Well, as I was getting off my bike, I heard the word
whore
. I looked up, and then watched you stomping on
that
,” the stranger said as he pointed to the Kindle.

“And, I suppose as long as you’re done being an asshole, and she’s okay, you’re right. It’s
not
my business,” the stranger said as he walked around Josh slowly. His walk was unique. He had a certain swagger.

His steel grey eyes never left Josh.

“Well, she was bein’ disrespectful. We got in a pissin’ match. Like I said, ain’t nothin’ to do with you,” Josh said to the stranger as he slowly walked around the truck.

As Josh opened the door to the truck
, the stranger leaned onto the Red Box and focused on me. As he waited for us to back up, he put his sunglasses back on. His right hand had tattooed knuckles.

Squeeeeee!

Josh tossed the crushed Kindle at me as he got in the truck.

“Wh
at the fuck you lookin’ at? And why the fuck is he starin’ at you?” Josh asked as he started the truck.