Scintilla

The smell of old sweat and leather tries to force itself down my throat and I furrow my brows, somehow thinking that will solve the problem. It doesn't.

»Damn, Marissa, you're on fire today.« The voice of my coach Mike startles me and I glance at him. »You trying to kill the bag?«

»I just need to clear my head.« My heart is beating quickly and I struggle to catch my breath, but I keep on pouncing, wishing he'd leave so I could continue taking out my emotions on the poor bag.

"Well, I think you're doing a brilliant job, but watch out when you do the hook so that you don't damage your wrist. You have to keep your head in this game, as soon as you're all instinct, that's when you lose. Don't forget that." He taps his temple. "You want to grab a coffee afterwards? Maybe a talk could help you clear your head, too."

»No, I can't. I have, uh, a dentist.«

I don't hear a reply, and besides, I don't care.

I’m done with all men on this world. No way I’ll voluntarily sit down and have coffee with one.

I don't know what to do, I'm just trying to hold it together at the moment and push through the constant feeling of sickness I've had since Jim was killed.

The asshole got me in so much trouble by dying. I spent the first few days barricaded in my home, scared to go out. I don't know what happened with his body, but I didn't want to have anything to do with it. Besides, I didn't know if the killer was around and if maybe he wanted me dead, too.

Gritting my teeth together, I punch even harder. The cops are not a dismissible problem. It's been a few days since he was shot and I'm stressing out and waiting for the police to come by. Here's what I know is going to happen.

They must have his body. The people have heard the shots and someone must have called 911. The police are going to find out his identity pretty soon because he's completely loaded with money and will be reported missing, so he's probably going to be a priority. When that happens, they're will go down to California and figure out he has a runaway wife whose body was never discovered.

It's pretty likely they're going to get a photo of my face and bring it back here to Vancouver, show it around the location he was last seen, one of which will be Forbidden Garden, the club I work at. 

I'm pretty sure I'm going to be the main suspect, both because he was with me the night he died and because I'm the one who inherits his money. The fake identity is not going to help me.

One of the reasons I haven't left the country yet is that the situation is very unfair; I did absolutely nothing wrong and if I do disappear it sends a message that I'm guilty. There's a part of me that cannot let me punish myself when I know I did nothing wrong. Another is that I simply do not have the money.

Fake ID, travel costs and then living costs until I get a new jobs are just out of my reach at the moment, so the only options I seem to have at the moment are jail or homelessness. Or, basically, just jail, since they'd probably find me if I was roaming the streets. Another good point is that if faced with the choice, I'd pick jail over being homeless. I can't live without a bathroom.

I've managed to figure out this much, but it doesn't help me because I have no plan. I'm really hoping for a miracle. Unfortunately, those for me have been nothing but a myth.

For a second, the mismatched eyes appear in front of me, and I stop hitting the bag, feeling cold move down my back. God, what kind of a psychopath kills a person so cold-heartedly?

I took up boxing soon after taking the job of an exotic dancer to keep up good figure. I had no idea I would need it to keep myself protected. Though, let's be real, no amount of boxing could help me when it comes to a guy at least twice my size.

Suddenly a loud thud sounds throughout the gym and my eyes dart in the direction of the sound to see gym equipment scattered on the floor and a big brunet guy that I haven't seen before looking at the mess he'd created. »Shit man, I'm sorry.«

“And here’s Atlas, you remember guys from mentioning him at the start of class.” Mike announces and I curse to myself. Great, another interruption.

“’Sup.” He nods his head and I huff, crossing my arms, and making sure I’m hid behind at least one person. His eyes meet mine as if he’d heard me, and I overstep on my feet.

“He’ll be taking over for the next three weeks, because I have a new obligation back home.” Mike says as he smiles. Everyone knows his girlfriend is going to give birth any day now. “But don’t worry. He’s almost as good at his job as me.”     

“Yes, I hope you’ve been training hard, because I’m not going to go easy on you.” The new guy says with a smile on his face, and somehow his eyes seem to smile as well.

“We’re going to finish this session together, just to clear up any questions, but I think we’ll be fine. Just keep on doing what you do, and we’ll step up to each of you individually.”

Thank God. At the cue, I turn back towards my leather opponent. It seems like only a few seconds have passed until I hear my name mentioned and I see the two men standing next to me. “This is Marissa. She’s probably the best here.”

The guy couldn’t be more obviously surprised and I purse my lips, annoyed. Cats are smaller than dogs and we all know who would win in a fight.

“Is she really?”

I look up at the new guy and raise my eyebrows. Why the fuck doesn’t anybody believe in me? “Hey, I think I saw you at the mall last week.” I don’t know what reply to that. I don’t remember him.

Suddenly, the guy’s brows furrow. “Wow. You’re really beautiful.”           

I’d lie if I said that was the first time I received a compliment, and based on Mike’s reaction, this wasn’t the first time his friend complimented a woman and embarrassed him. It’s all a game of the sexes that I grew to hate.

Rolling my eyes, I turn away from them, but the new guy continues to speak. “Do you talk?”

“Of course she does, she clearly just doesn’t want to talk to you. Come on, let’s leave her alone. Sorry, Marissa.”

“Don’t be an idiot. Why wouldn’t she want to talk to me?”

“You’re being creepy, Atlas. Please, let’s just go.”

I hear him sigh and then they both walk away from me. “You can’t do that with my trainees, you’re going to cost me money. Or get us a lawsuit.”