Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
I called into the ring, “Relax, Rachel!”
She tended to panic on the ground, her one downfall, because every one of her opponents knew it. So far, her quick hands and faster feet had saved her when it mattered, but every fighter knew, as did every solider, eventually you found yourself in exactly the wrong position at exactly the wrong time.
“Relax!” I repeated in case she hadn’t heard me.
Two seconds later, Rachel dropped her tense shoulders, which gave her more control and managed to maneuver her partner into a submission.
Exactly what I wanted.
“Relaxed enough for ya?” That cocky smile was back, and I was confident she was almost there. Almost.
“Finally, yeah” I said. But I couldn’t let Rachel get over-confident. “Jimenez won’t give you those extra two seconds though. You have to keep on top of your game.”
Her smile dimmed just a little bit at the reprimand, but Rachel gave me a short nod. She knew as well as I did, it was the truth.
“She won’t need to,” she said, her voice low and lethally serious as she toweled off her glistening brow.
I acknowledged her with a quick salute. That was my girl. “Again,” I said. “Another round.”
After a quick water break, the women squared off once again, and my thoughts turned back to Vanessa.
I had to focus on something else. Anything else. I couldn’t obsess over a woman who still mourned another man. Vanessa’s guilt weighed so heavily on her that only friendship was possible right now. I knew that. I was okay with it.
But still, thoughts of her filled my mind. I was a man after all.
The session ended with my trainees showing gratifying progress but no resolution for my growing desire for Vanessa. I began shutting down the gym for the night, my discipline for keeping the House of Ashby tight as a drum helping me concentrate on something other than the beautiful widow.
Rachel waved as she headed for the door. “See you later, Em. Hope you finally get laid tonight.” Speaking of discipline, she was always the last person other than me at House of Ashby after nine o’clock on a Saturday night.
“Yeah, yeah. Put some ice on that lip,” I told her and got a two-handed ‘screw you’ for my efforts.
An hour later, the gym was clean and ready for the next day. I locked up and planned to head straight home. What was that saying about making plans? Watch the universe laugh at you? I knew the saying involved God, but I stopped believing in him a long damn time ago. I figured if there was anyone or anything to blame, it was the general nature and chaos of the universe. And when my phone rang as I started my car, I knew it was chaos and not some celestial force.
“What’s up, Ma?” No matter how many times I tried to think of her as Cheryl, I couldn’t help but call her Mom.
She coughed for a good fifteen seconds before she was able to form actual words. “Is that any way to greet your mama?”
I rolled my eyes and started driving because I knew this call would require a face to face visit. “Does that mean you’re just calling to check in? To see how I’m doing?”
“You’re fine,” she said. “You’re always fine.” Which meant she was about to tell me all the ways she wasn’t fine and how I could fix it.
“You planning on fighting again? I got some friends who could make some good money betting on you.”
Yeah, I bet she did. It was another reason I was happy to work as a trainer. Between the Ashby family and my biological family, there were too many strings attached to me stepping into the ring again. And I wasn’t willing to get my brains scrambled again for any of it.
“I’m outside,” I told her.
The three-story apartment building Cheryl lived in looked about as rundown as they came, but according to her, she preferred to stay with her own kind, so I kept my mouth shut.
She stepped out onto the balcony and waved. “Come on up, then.”
“Let me in,” I called. The buzzer released the front door to the lobby and I made my way up to the second-floor apartment and took in the sight of my mother. She was thin, too thin for my liking, probably about a buck five if I had to guess. Her dark hair was bleached blonde everywhere but the roots and her pale skin showed signs of acne and faded bruises, or what I called her fresh from County look.
“How long have you been out?”
She shrugged and scratched her forearm. “A few days. Why?”
“Just curious.” It usually took a week for her to remember she had a kid, unless, of course, she needed something. Usually money.
“You been taking in anything other than booze since you got out?”