Chapter 4 - The boxing ring

After another unsuccessful surveillance mission, I returned to my apartment feeling disheartened and frustrated. Moe had assigned me a new target, but after searching the man’s usual hideouts for hours, he was nowhere to be found. I had hoped to catch him off guard, but he evaded me this time.

Before proceeding to the skip’s home, I always liked to check less conspicuous places to increase my chances of success. I learned from experience that if I went straight to their house, they would become suspicious and might disappear for days or even weeks. I saved that as a last resort and preferred to catch them in public when they least expected it. Being a girl bounty hunter had advantages, and people often underestimated me, which worked to my benefit.

After locking my apartment door behind me, I trailed my fingers along the wall until I found the light switch. “Honey, I’m home!” I called out humorously into the space, trying to lighten my mood. I lived alone in a small bachelor pad where the living room, kitchen, and bedroom were all in one area. My Murphy bed, which was neatly made, doubled as a library and storage unit when folded up. I had a few books on it, including a crime novel I read during sleepless nights.

The kitchen was small, with a small bar fridge that contained a few beer cans and some leftover Chinese food from my dinner the previous night. I preferred dining out because it saved me time, and I could fuel up while looking for my contracts. Not that I couldn’t cook, but it was a waste of time for me.

Despite not having many possessions, I wouldn’t describe my living space as poor. I intentionally chose to keep it minimalistic because there were frequent break-ins in the area, and I didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention. In the event of a robbery, the thieves would leave empty-handed.

The walls of my apartment were plain, and I hadn’t bothered to decorate them with picture frames or plants. I hadn’t even painted them since I moved in, so they remained an unappealing glossy white. However, it was a peaceful space to relax and unwind after a long day.

After changing into my workout clothes, I headed outside for a refreshing run. Although the evening air was crisp and cool, I was eager to get my blood pumping and quickly warmed up. I jogged alongside the sidewalk, enjoying the nightly tranquillity.

I approached the nearby boxing studio, feeling relieved, knowing that I could work off any remaining stress from the day there. I pushed open the door, feeling the rush of cool air hit my face as I stepped inside.

The training studio was filled with the sounds of grunting men fighting and punches being thrown. Sal, the gym’s owner, greeted me warmly and motioned for me to come closer. I eagerly made my way over to the old man.

“David wants a rematch from your last sparring. How does Tuesday work for ya?” Sal asked, looking at the clipboard in his hand.

“If he wants his butt kicked again, I’m free every night!” I laughed as I walked straight to my changing room.

I grabbed a towel and returned to Sal’s side.

“I’ve got a fresh set of young fellas over there eager to take you on. I keep tellin’ them they ain’t ready, but they ain’t listenin’,” he said as he pulled down the ropes to the ring.

I quickly moved past Sal and jumped over the ropes, landing smoothly. I then proceeded to prepare my hand wraps, ensuring I was ready for whatever came my way. Looking over at Sal, I raised an eyebrow and questioned him, “Have they heard about me?”

“Only that you’re pretty strong… and hard to take down.”

Satisfied with his response, I turned around and whistled at the group of guys staring at me as if I were a meal. “Who’s up for some one-on-one?” I confidently challenged them.

Sal, standing nearby, shook his head and chuckled at my bravado. A big, tough-looking guy stepped forward, pumped his chest, and strolled confidently toward the ring. Sal parted the ropes for him, but the guy sneered as if the old man was beneath him, showing a complete lack of respect.

I pounded my fist on the inside of my hand and ensured the wrappings were secured correctly. I thought I heard Sal say to the man, “It’s your funeral,” but I wasn’t sure.

My opponent faced me, and I silently asked him if he was ready. He nodded, and I dropped into position, slightly bending my knees while keeping my back straight. I brought my fists close to my face and patiently waited for him to make the first move.

The air was dense with tension as we both anticipated the start of the fight. I could see the determination in his eyes, but I knew I was ready for whatever he had in store for me.

My opponent seemed to find our fight amusing and wanted to finish it quickly, so he promptly went straight for a cross. That was a knockout move, and it insulted me. I groaned and slipped to the side, then proceeded with a rear hook to the body, hitting him in the ribs.

Despite my small stature, I could move with ease around the guy. My opponent shot a series of quick jabs that I could parry with little trouble, and then he came at me with a rear hook that I deflected by rolling. This went on for a few minutes, and it felt like we were dancing in the ring.

When I had enough of the guy, I did a quick series of jabs, followed by a cross punch, and finished with a rear uppercut straight on the jaw. The poor guy didn’t see it coming and fell to the ground with a loud thud.

I moved to where the guys stared at us and casually placed my arms on the top rope. “Who’s next?” I said with a grin.

More challengers came up, but I remained unfazed. Limp Bizkit’s “Rollin” song came up on the radio, and I shouted to increase the volume to get pumped up. I showed no mercy to the next set of guys who tried to put me down.

As the training session ended, I felt disappointed as none of the men wanted to train with me anymore. They all knew they couldn’t beat me, and I thought I detected fear on their faces. I pouted and started to leave the ring when I heard a deep, husky voice behind me.

“I’d like to go next.”

 I turned to see a tall, incredibly handsome man with golden-tanned skin and curly brown hair that fell in front of his piercing amber eyes. The heat in his eyes was mesmerizing, and I found myself staring at him, lost in his gaze. My stomach fluttered, and my breath caught in my throat, even though I hadn’t been hit. He was a stranger to me, and I looked over at Sal, who shrugged his shoulders, indicating that he was new here.

I tried to play it cool. “Are you sure I won’t ruin your pride, big boy? I eat men like you for breakfast, in case you didn’t notice.” I grinned as I crossed my arms. Despite my tough words, I couldn’t help but gawk at him.

He replied, “Eat away,” moving his hands away from his toned body. The sight of his smile made my heart skip a beat.

Shit, what the fuck was this feeling? I had never been attracted to someone as much as this tall newcomer.

I shook my head in an attempt to suppress the growing butterflies. However, it only made the guy in front of me chuckle more. With a sigh, I turned my back to him and walked to the corner where Sal was keeping score.

“He’s been watchin’ you fight, so there’s a good chance he’s seen a pattern in your hits. You’ll have to be careful if you don’t want to ruin your winnin’ streak. You’ve been undefeated for months now,” he said thoughtfully.

I clicked my tongue over my teeth and took a deep breath. I straightened my back and shook my arms to ease my muscles.

“Three minutes tops,” I whispered to Sal, indicating that it wouldn’t take long to defeat the stranger before me. Sal cocked his head and frowned as he looked at his watch. He had nothing to worry about. I knew how to handle men perfectly, and this one was no exception.

I lightly jumped in place, waiting for Mr. Sex on legs to get himself into position.

I noticed a small crowd had gathered around us, eagerly waiting to see the spectacle unfold. They were all hoping to witness someone finally landing me on my ass, and I couldn’t blame them. After all, I had a reputation to uphold. But as I stood there, sizing up my opponent, I hesitated for a few seconds. Did I want to mess up his beautiful face?

I closed my eyes and cursed at myself, trying to shake off the hesitation. What the hell was wrong with me? I couldn’t care less if I broke someone’s nose while fighting. Why was this guy making me think twice?

“You ready?” the man asked, pulling his hair away from his eyes. I quickly nodded, biting the inside of my cheek. Like a gentleman, he waited for me to make the first move.

I bent my knees and slowly approached him, circling around and assessing what I was up against. He was at least six foot two, solid stature and a sure footing. This wasn’t his first rodeo, I noted.

I started easy on him, probing for weaknesses. I moved swiftly, jabbing him close in the face. He slipped quickly, deflecting my blows, and advanced toward me with a right hook. I rolled, but he moved more rapidly than I expected and hit me with a left hook to the body.

I staggered, shocked that he landed a blow. He didn’t move like the others before him. He was faster and stronger, but so was I. We danced around each other, evading each other’s attacks.

Despite the sweat dripping down my face and the blood in my mouth, I felt alive. I lived for this: the thrill of the fight, the rush of adrenaline, the satisfaction of coming out on top.

I observed Sal lift two fingers, signifying that two minutes had passed. I knew I had less than a minute to bring down my opponent. As we exchanged punches, slipped, hooked, and rolled, I noticed the crowd was staring at us with open mouths. The adrenaline was pumping through my veins, and everything seemed to move in slow motion except for the fight I was engaged in. The newcomer’s jabs were quick and effective, and I found it challenging to dodge them.

That’s new. Who the heck is this guy?

Suddenly, the stranger asked me, “If I win, will you go for coffee with me?” His gaze was heating up my face, and before I could respond, my mouth betrayed me.

“Sure.”

Wait. What?

I groaned internally as the word escaped my lips. I didn’t have time to go out with someone, especially someone I didn’t know. I had to end this, and fast.

When I saw an opening, I landed a rear hook to the man’s side, then a left one, sliding my foot, so I moved away from him and rained a chain combo of jabs to his face and then chest. He put me in the corner, and I blocked as many hits as possible.

Sweat was pouring down our faces. I imagined mine was now bright red from the exertion. I noticed him move his left leg, signalling a right hit, so I took that opportunity to do a quick uppercut, resulting in him falling on the mat. His legs tangled in mine, and I slipped on top of him.

He gently took me in his arms to slow down my fall. Both my legs were straddling him, and I felt a bulge right under me. The tips of my ears redden as I hastily moved away, pretending I didn’t notice what had happened.

As the judge, Sal announced the end of the round, I looked over at him, feeling a mix of anticipation and anxiety. Sal lowered his eyes and shook his head before delivering his verdict. “You both packed a lot of punches and frankly, you moved so fast it was hard to keep up with the points. From what I’ve counted, I’ll have to give this round to the newcomer. Sorry, Max,” Sal said, his voice heavy with regret.

I took a deep breath and tried to shake off the disappointment. I brushed off some sweat from my forehead and redid my ponytail, trying to regain my composure. I placed the towel in the used bin, feeling the adrenaline wearing off and my muscles aching. My body would hate me for this fight come morning.

Despite the defeat, a small smile crept on my face, and I felt satisfied. I hadn’t had a match like that in ages.I tried to hide the blush rising on my cheeks, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

“So, are you still up for that coffee?”

“A deal’s a deal,” I answered as I removed my hand wraps. I playfully extended my hand toward him and said, “I’m Max.”

He shook my hand, and I felt a slight pull toward him. As he did so, a whiff of his aftershave hit me, making me sway a little.

God, he even smells good.

“Lukas. A pleasure to meet you.”