Lightning Strykes

by Sherryl Hancock

  People stepped back then, and Remington began her workout. Wynter found a chair, and started looking at her phone. She could hear people talking about Remington the entire time. She never heard one single negative thing said about the woman. Everyone talked about her talent, her speed, her strength, her stamina. It was astounding to Wynter, but then again, she realized she shouldn’t be surprised; Remington wasn’t the type of person that spawned negativity. Wynter was sure that was why her friends were so determined that Remington needed to shut Akasha Salt up.

  The last thing Remington did was climb into the ring, pulling on her gloves. One of the men Jack had tapped to spar with Remington was a good half a foot taller than her, and looked like he outweighed her by about fifty pounds. Wynter moved to the side of the ring, like many others and watched, feeling nervous. No agreements had been made not to hit or make major contact, which had her feeling even more nervous.

  Remington bounced on the balls of her feet, and then dropped a foot back in a fighter’s stance. Bringing her hands up, she motioned to the man with her fingertips, her eyes watching him closely. The man rushed in, and Remington immediately threw a punch, catching him on the jaw, but she pulled it at the last second, so it didn’t impact as hard.

  “Shit!” the man exclaimed, stepping back.

  “It’s okay,” Remington said, “don’t ever come in that hard, it’s a fast way to lose.”

  The man nodded, rolling his neck to get himself back in focus.

  Remington waited. He brought his hands up, moving to Remington’s left, and she tracked him with her eyes, her body at the ready. He attempted a right hook, which Remington dodged easily, shifting back and to the right. He followed quickly with a jab with his left, but once again, Remington avoided it, and was able to get in a quick leg kick in, making him stumble slightly.

  “Don’t leave your left open that far,” Remington instructed

  The man nodded, taking in what she was saying. Then he did a quick fake to the left, coming at Remington from the right, his fist flying. It glanced off Remington’s shoulder, but she avoided a full face hit with fast footwork.

  “That was good,” Remington said, nodding.

  Wynter noticed that Remington’s voice never became condescending, it was always even, or positive. She really liked that about her. Remington was still herself, even in the ring.

  After about a twenty-minute session, the man held up his hand, breathing heavily. Remington immediately relaxed her position and walked over to shake his hand. Remington took a break then, grabbing her water and a towel to dry off with.

  Wynter walked over to her. “That was pretty impressive.”

  Remington grinned. “You liked that?” she asked, sounding surprised.

  “Yeah,” Wynter said, smiling. “I like seeing my bodyguard in action,” she said, winking at Remington.

  Remington chewed at the gum in her mouth looking amused.

  “What?” Wynter asked.

  “Nothing,” Remington said, shaking her head.

  She’d been thinking that Wynter didn’t strike her as the type to like things like fighting, so she wasn’t sure if Wynter was simply humoring her or if she was just wrong about what Wynter liked. It never occurred to her that Wynter only liked the fighting because it was Remington doing it.

  When Remington climbed back into the ring, music was playing in the background. Remington recognized the song that started and circled her finger in the air to get Jack to turn it up. He did as she wanted. The young guy that climbed into the ring was all muscle and bulk. He had a look about him that told Remington that he was going to be more of a challenge than the first guy. She pursed her lips, listening to the song playing; it was Limp Bizkit, “My Way.”

  The first lines seemed to be quite apropos in this case. “You think you’re special, you do, I can see it in your eyes…” It’s exactly what Remington was thinking this kid thought about himself. He was all tatted up, and already doing the puffing up and making grunting noises. She glanced over at Jack, giving him a wry look and raising her eyebrow, as if to say really? Jack grinned and mouthed the words, “Put him down hard.” Remington nodded, getting the message.

  Remington took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly, focusing herself. Once again, she brought her hands up and motioned with her fingertips for her opponent to begin. The kid did a lot of bouncing around, a lot of fake outs. Remington shifted, keeping her eyes on him at all times. She knew this kid wasn’t going to pull any punches, so she resolved that she wouldn’t either. It was obvious by the look in his eyes that he wanted to score a victory on Remington LaRoché; it wasn’t the first time she’d faced someone that was determined to change her undefeated record even if it wasn’t an official fight. It would be bragging rights, and a guy like the kid she was currently facing would always be looking for those.

  His friends were yelling encouragement, and it was pumping up his ego.

  “Get her, Charlie! Take her!” one of his friends yelled.

  “Tap that ass!” another yelled.

  Wynter’s head snapped around to identify that particular big mouth.

  Giving a yell, the kid charged at Remington, putting his head down expecting to catch her in the ribs, Remington danced aside, easily avoiding his first pass, but not clearing his longer reach. His arm whipped out grabbing her throat, Remington brought her fist up from under his chin in a sharp upper cut, and he gave a yelp and let her go. Remington jumped back, crouching as he started cussing and swinging. She avoided every punch, stepping in as the last swing passed her, jabbing him in the kidneys and giving a sharp side kick a quick second later.

  He surprised her by spinning and sweeping her legs out from under her, a completely dirty move. She hit the mat hard, but rolled to the side to keep him from dropping on her. He outweighed her by a good hundred pounds, so if he was able to pin her, she was done and she knew it. He stunned her by soccer kicking her in the side, not once but twice. She heard Wynter scream her name, but shook her head. He drew his foot back a third time this time aiming at her head. She waited, giving him the confidence to try it. When his leg lashed out, she grabbed it, and, using the strength she was known for, she twisted his foot, hearing his knee pop out of place. She took him down to the mat, and brought her elbow down on his midsection brutally, moving over him and punching him in the face. She dropped low, putting her forearm against his throat, her eyes blazing as she looked down at him.

  Wynter could feel Remington’s fury from where she stood on the side of the ring.

  “You fucking think you’re gonna take me down?” Remington growled at the younger man. “You think you got what it takes? You’ve got shit,” she snapped, and began increasing the pressure on his throat until he finally threw his hand out, smacking the mat with his hand, tapping out. Remington kept her arm over his throat, her jaw twitching as she clenched her teeth, staring him down. Finally, she moved to stand, throwing his friends a sneering look, then turning and walking to the other side of the ring where Wynter stood.

  “Are you okay?” Wynter asked her immediately.

  “Yeah, I’m okay,” Remington said, nodding.

  She glanced up as she saw Jack climb into the ring.

  “Get the fuck outa my gym!” Jack was yelling at the kid as he climbed slowly to his feet. “I don’t go in for that dirty fighting here, you get the hell out and take your friends with you!” He strode over to the where Remington stood. “You okay, Rem?”

  “I’m fine,” Remington said, nodding.

  “I’m sorry, Rem,” Jack said, shaking his head ruefully.

  “It’s cool, Jack, don’t worry about it,” Remington said.

  Remington walked over to pick up her bag, looking down at Wynter who had followed her and was looking up at her worriedly.

  “Wyn, I’m okay, really,” she said. “I’m going to go take a shower.” She glanced around. “You’ll be safe out here.”

  “You’re sure?” Wynter asked.

  Remingto
n quirked a grin. “You think anyone here will mess with you after that?”

  Wynter’s eyes widened, she’d just heard the slightest hint of an ego from Remington. She shook her head. “Probably not.”

  “Probably not,” Remington repeated, grinning and winking at her. “I’ll be out in a few, okay?”

  “Okay,” Wynter said.

  In the end, Wynter decided she didn’t like the looks the men in the gym were giving her, so she made her way to the women’s locker room. She walked around the corner, and saw Remington standing in jeans, black leather boots, and a black exercise bra, her back was to Wynter. It was an enticing sight, but then Remington turned around and Wynter saw the dark bruises on Remington’s torso.

  “Oh my God!” Wynter said, striding over and reaching out to touch the bruises gently. “Remi…” she breathed, her eyes showing concern.

  Remington smiled down at her. “It’s just a bruise, Wynter, I’ve had much worse.”

  “Well, I haven’t seen much worse on your body before, okay?” Wynter said, her tone strident.

  Remington smiled tenderly. “Okay, I’m sorry, “but it’s really okay.”

  Wynter smoothed her hand extremely gently over the bruise, feeling Remington shudder and thinking that it was in pain. She glanced up, as Remington reached over to pick up her shirt, and pulled it on.

  “Let’s get out of here,” she said, nodding towards the door as she tucked her shirt in and then picked up her jacket and her bag.

  Wynter preceded Remington out of the locker room. Back in the car, she looked over at Remington, noting that she was moving gingerly. “Maybe we should just go relax today, so you can be up for tonight,” she said.

  Remington’s lips twitched, but she nodded, agreeing that it was probably for the best.

  That night the show, at Radio City Music Hall, went off without a hitch, except that the fans demanded Remington’s presence on stage. Quinn laughed, knowing exactly how that felt; she’d had the exact same problem after she and Xandy had gotten together. She more or less pushed Remington out onto the stage. The audience screamed and stomped their feet. Wynter walked over to Remington, looking up at her, her eyes searching Remington’s. She reached up, putting her hand to Remington’s cheek, as she had in the room the morning after her fall, and put her other hand to Remington’s heart just as she had. Remington smiled down at her, and put her hand over Wynter’s hand on her heart. Wynter kept her eyes on Remington as she spoke into the microphone.

  “Okay so many of you know that Remi saved my life a few nights ago…” she said, smiling as the crowd cheered, and Remington shook her head, rolling her eyes. “What most of you probably don’t know is that Remi is a Queensrÿche fan. So…” she said, smiling. “Hopefully I can do Geoff Tate’s incredible voice some justice… but this is for my bodyguard and my friend.”

  Jerith Michaels walked out on stage and started playing his guitar. Dylan Silver joined in on the base guitar. Wynter stayed where she was, her hand staying on Remington’s chest as she began to sing. The words talked about being there for Remington through thick and thin and that she promised to do so with her hand on her heart.

  As the song ended, Wynter took a step in closer to Remington and kissed her lips softly, then pulled back to look up at her.

  “Mèsi,” Wynter said softly to Remington.

  “Toujou pou ou,” Remington replied, her voice equally soft, but the microphone Wynter held picked it up anyway.

  Wynter gave her a perplexed look. “What does that mean?” she asked, not caring that people were watching.

  Remington leaned down, whispering in her ear, “Always for you.” She kissed Wynter’s ear, then stepped back, smiling down at her.

  The crowd cheered, and Remington turned to them, putting her hands up in front of her chest in prayer form, inclining her head to the crowd, as she had done when she was still fighting. Many people in the crowd recognized it and yelled even louder. With that, Remington pivoted on her heel and walked off stage, leaving Wynter staring after her shaking her head slowly.

  Chapter 6

  In Los Angeles, Jet and Skyler were sitting out on the patio at The Club smoking.

  “Uh,” Skyler stammered as she looked across the patio. “Isn’t that Wynter’s girlfriend?” she asked, nodding her head toward the short-haired blond making out with another girl.

  Jet followed Skyler’s indication and looked shocked. “It’s supposed to be, yeah.”

  “Isn’t that Wynter’s girlfriend?” Devin asked as she walked out onto the patio with a beer for Skyler.

  Skyler chuckled, nodding. “We were just saying that.”

  Fadiyah walked out to the patio a moment later with drinks in hand as well. She looked over at the two girls making out and shot Jet a quizzical look.

  “Yep,” Jet said, nodding to her wife.

  “That is not right,” Fadiyah said shocked.

  Jet and Skyler exchanged a grin.

  “Woah,” Dakota said as she and Jazmine walked out to the patio.

  “Yeah, we know,” Jet said, grinning.

  Before long most of the group was outside, and more or less glowering at Lauren. When Lauren turned around, it was obvious that she’d known full well that they’d be there. Her look was rebellious, even as she put her arm around the girl she’d been making out with and walked by the group and back into the bar.

  “Okay, who’s texting Wynter?” Jet asked.

  “I’ll text Remi,” Kashena said, pulling out her phone.

  ****

  Remington and Wynter had just gotten back to Remington’s apartment when Remington’s phone chimed. She pulled out her phone and read the message from Kashena.

  “Lauren at The Club, sucking face with some random chick and she knew we saw her.”

  Remington grimaced, glancing at Wynter, who had turned to look back at her.

  “What?” Wynter asked, seeing Remington’s grimace.

  Remington handed her the phone and Wynter read Kashena’s message. Wynter lips tightened, as she nodded, her eyes blazing. She looked up at Remington then.

  “I want to go out,” she said, “take me out.”

  Remington widened her eyes, but then nodded.

  They ended up at a club called the Bum Bum Room, pronounced ‘boom boom.’ It was a salsa dance club. Remington kept a watchful eye on Wynter as she cut loose, drinking and dancing with whoever asked. Whenever one of the women at the club would get too insistent, Remington would step in to back the woman off. At one point, she’d done just that, as a slow song began and Wynter grabbed her hand.

  “Dance with me,” Wynter said, her eyes a bit glassy.

  Remington knew she couldn’t say no. Wynter was hurting and she needed to be there for her. Moving to take her charge in her arms, Remington put her lips against the top of Wynter’s head, leaning down as they began to move.

  “Are you okay?” she asked solicitously.

  Wynter didn’t answer, only nodding. Remington gave her a gentle squeeze and held her a little closer.

  The song playing was Adele’s “Love in the Dark.” Wynter sang the words, her head resting against Remington’s shoulder. One of the verses stuck in Wynter’s head, making her throat clog with tears as she sang it. It talked about the one person that mattered the most being the person she would run to when she needed someone the most.

  Remington felt Wynter trembling and knew she was crying. She reached up between them, putting her hand to Wynter’s cheek. She had no way of knowing that Wynter wasn’t crying about Lauren. She was crying because she was afraid she was never going to be in love.

  They continued to dance, but it became obvious to Remington that Wynter needed to get out of there for a bit. Stepping back, she took Wynter’s hand and led her off the dance floor and out to the club’s balcony. She started talking to the bouncer out there. The bouncer had already told Remington earlier that he thought she was a “helluva fighter.” Remington traded on that fame for once, getting him to c
lear the balcony temporarily.

  Remington moved to sit against the railing, putting Wynter in front of her.

  “Talk to me, Wyn…” she said, her eyes searching Wynter’s.

  Wynter shook her head looking sad. “You know, in seven years, I never cheated on her… never…” she said, her tone haunted. “I mean, I know the stupid tabloids always claimed I was screwing this girl or that girl… but I never did… never.”

  Remington nodded, grimacing, hearing the pain in Wynter’s voice.

  “And she went to The Club… where she knows my friends are going to be… Why? Is she just trying to hurt me? She can’t hit me from this far away, so she’s going to hurt me some other way?”

  Remington shook her head. “I don’t know, babe… li se yon timoun,” she said, then rolled her eyes “She’s a child,” she translated.

  Wynter smiled slightly at Remington’s slip. “Do you do that when you’re irritated?”

  Remington grinned. “Yeah, sometimes,” she said.

  “Good to know,” Wynter said, nodding.

  “You should try to call her,” Remington said.

  “Why?” Wynter asked. “I mean, she denied it the first time, but I believe Kash.”

  “I know, and you should, but maybe she can explain it,” Remington said.

  “How?” Wynter asked, her tone sarcastic. “I slipped and stuck my tongue down someone else’s throat?” she said, shaking her head. “No, I’m done.”

  Remington took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Okay.”

  “And now I’m going to go get drunk and stupid,” Wynter said.

  “Okay,” Remington said again.

  Wynter laughed as she grabbed Remington’s hand and dragged her back inside. Wynter spent the next two hours getting really drunk. In the end, Remington had to carry her home and put her to bed.

  The next four nights were spent the same way; after the concerts, Wynter would drag Remington out to whatever club was around. They both got very little sleep, and on the drive to the next show, it started to take its toll on Remington. She had been coughing for a couple of days, but had dismissed it as ‘just one of those things.’ She and Quinn were discussing the security for the next few dates and she’d gone to the back of the bus at one point to grab her laptop. She had a coughing fit that left her breathless, and then she felt dizzy and suddenly everything went black.