by Dani Wyatt
As for me, I graduated from the local college with a degree in journalism—which these days is a sure-fire way to end up waiting tables. So, when I got the job offer from a startup news blog in Boston, I felt lucky.
Packed up my duffel bag, emptied my pitiful savings—we got a few thousand in good luck money from my mother—and I was in my beat up red Volvo wagon headed for the big city of Boston, my brother in front of me in his pick-up with dreams of making the Ground and Pound federation where fighting stars are born.
It’s the typical story, small town girl moves to big city to pursue her dream. Only, unlike all those Hollywood fictions, I never fantasized a slick, experienced executive sweeping me off my feet. Not sure why, just wasn’t in my happily ever after, I guess.
I was the pudgy, coke-bottle glasses wearing, nose in a book, no fashion sense kinda girl growing up.
I guess I never imagined having someone in my life that would make me feel beautiful. Desired. Smart and funny. Someone who would look at me like it’s the first time every time. Someone who would always fight my corner. So, I just decided that risk was too much and set my sights on finding happiness in other ways.
Until today, that is.
“Everyone’s leaving.” Catrina grabs her purse as Wilson stares at his phone, laughing before holding it out for one of our other coworkers to see.
I want to find an excuse to go closer to the bar, where Stone is talking to the cops.
A paramedic is trying to take a look at the three guys, who are now on their feet looking unsteady, but it’s clear they want nothing to do with it. Instead, the looks they are giving Stone tell me they want another shot and this time things may not go as well for him. I certainly wouldn’t put it past those guys to fight dirty if that would get them the win.
Still, as Catrina and Wilson head toward the door, I’m frozen to the spot. I need another look. One that will carry through into my dreams. As much as I hate fighting, I’m drawn to him in a way I don’t even understand. A pull low in my belly that makes it a conscious effort to resist the urge to walk over to him, even as the part of me that fears such violence tells me to run for the door.
As I work my way to the door, I see he’s taller than I first thought, and thick too; but hard, not steroid bulky. His white t-shirt is torn down the front, and splattered with crimson, but I don’t think it’s his blood because his face looks intact.
Not a scrape or cut to be seen. He’s not handsome like some guy in a Ralph Lauren ad. No, this is different. He’s rough, unconventional, his dark hair messy in the way that says he just doesn’t pay that much attention. Nearly black eyes set deep into a strong forehead. He looks like he’s worked hard his whole life, veins trailing around his forearms, biceps clearly defined from the other ten gazillion sinuous muscles in his arms. In my mind’s eye, I can see his torso, square-cut pectorals and a six-pack that would have me running my tongue down the valleys between each muscle.
He’s broad at the top, narrowing down toward worn, faded Levi’s that hang ever so slightly low on his hips, showing off just the top elastic of dark blue boxers.
I suck in a breath as he turns from the cops and looks right at me. His tongue glances along his lower lip and he runs a hand down his face, holding his jaw as though looking at me hurts.
The vision of him striding over, grabbing my hand and taking me into the backroom to fuck me hard up against the wall explodes in my brain, making me blush. Who knew I’d imagine my first time like that. Hard. Rough. Taken.
Catrina is looking at me and I wonder if she can sense what I am thinking.
“What?” I cough out as I rub my hands down the sides of my thighs, my eyes dropping to the front of Stone’s jeans, where I swear I see the outline of a bulge that reaches all the way up to the waistband.
Desire spins inside of me, my thoughts continuing to surprise me with their utter filth, and the clutch in my belly centers itself solidly between my legs, a moan catching in my throat.
“Are you coming?” Catrina half chuckles as I stumble.
Yes, I think I am. Maybe you should look away...
3
Stone
I’M STILL DRIPPING from the shower when I hear my phone ringing. My parents are the only ones that usually call me, and I half trip over my torn and discarded clothes from last night.
I grab the phone from my nightstand and look down to see Dino’s number. I don’t remember the last time he called. He’s a text sort of guy.
“Hello?” I answer, bracing myself because my gut tells me a shoe is about to drop.
“Man.” His deep voice is serious. “Can you fucking believe it?”
I grab the towel that’s draped over the bedpost and run it back and forth over my dripping hair, my cock still half-hard from jerking off four times in the shower, thoughts of that brunette from last night, the one that’s somehow got my world turned upside down, running through my mind.
“Believe what?”
“You don’t know?”
“Dino.” Irritation turns my voice harder. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“The fight, man. Last night? Someone recorded it, posted it on YouTube. It went viral. It has like a million views already.”
“What?” I sniff, tossing the towel on my pile of clothes and making a note to tidy them away before I go downstairs. I hate my place a mess in any way, but since last night I’ve had too much adrenalin to settle to any task.
And it’s not the fight that did it.
“Dude, someone in the bar last night recorded your takedown. But, that’s not the best part...” He pauses and I huff into the phone.
“Can you stop with the dramatic pauses?”
Dino draws a sharp breath. “Whatever, man. Those three guys? They are pro Ground and Pound fighters. Not like headline guys, minor league I guess in the scheme of things, but still. There are like thousands of comments. You beat down three of them at once. Oh, and...” He pauses, then continues. “They’re none too happy about it either.”
“I don’t care. I did what had to be done. I don’t want any fucking glory for it. I hate fucking fighting like that. You know that.”
“I know, man, but this...just saying. It’s big, so get ready because you’re going to be getting some attention. Some, well, probably not what you want...”
“Whatever. I’m out of here next week. Doubt they’ll come to California to find me.”
I walk over to the window, looking out at the empty street below. This little town is dying fast and I need out, but I won’t leave my parents to face its steady decline alone without providing for their retirement.
It’s going to be hard for Mom and Dad without me. Dino is going to have to help out more, but he’s up for that, has been for a while. His life is here and he wants to make a go of things. He says he has ideas for the bar, well, let him try them out is what I think. As for me, I’m going to be sending them as much of my salary as possible so they can hire some other help too, until we can get some of their debt paid down and hopefully sell the bar.
To Dino, if he wants it.
Right on cue, my phone beeps in my ear, and I look down to see the phone number from the California agency that placed me in the new job.
“I gotta go.”
“I’m on my way over to open with your mom.”
“Gotta go, Dino.”
“I’ll see you—"
Dino is still talking when I disconnect and answer the other call.
“Hello, Stone here.”
The voice on the other end hesitates before speaking. “Hello, Mr. Reiss, this is Salyama from White Sky Consulting.” He’s the recruiter that got me the position with Explore Security.
“Hi. You get all final paperwork? I completed it all day before yesterday online.”
“Yes, we did. Everything was all set...”
Was...
My neck muscles tighten.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Reiss, there’s no easy way to put this but Explor
e Security has rescinded their employment offer. It seems you were in a fight that has been posted on many social media platforms and it was picked up by someone in their human resources department. They recognized the bar name from your paperwork and identified you as a participant. They no longer feel you are a match for the job opening. I’m sorry.”
My head is pounding as I swallow and turn around, looking around the mess of my bedroom full of suitcases and boxes ready to ship out to the microscopic apartment I rented outside of Thousand Oaks.
I already signed the fucking lease. Breaking it is going to cost me big.
“Hey, I didn’t throw the first punch. I did what had to be done in the moment. They’re a security company, you’d think they’d give me a bonus knowing I can take care of shit like that...”
“You were hired as an account representative, not a bodyguard. Even if that were not the case, they do not condone violence of any kind. It would tarnish their image to have you in their employ. Again, I’m sorry, Mr. Reiss, but there is no recourse. We wish you luck finding something more suitable for your...temperament.”
He clicks off and I feel like I’ve just been punched in the gut. A few of the punches thrown last night toward me landed, but for the most part I came out clean. But right now, it feels like there’s a fist lodged just under my sternum.
I toss the phone on my unmade bed with a grunt, and run over the events from last night in my head. There was no other choice except the one I made. Still, doesn’t change the fact that the whole thing seems to have fucked everything up.
Who the fuck decided to film the fucking thing? All I want to do right now is stay up here and throw shit around, breaking a few things, but I know that won’t help.
Still seething, I grab a fresh pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt, stuff my feet into socks and my brown boots and by the time I’m at the bottom of the stairs that lead into the back of the bar, my mom and dad and Dino are all coming through the door.
“Are you okay?” My mom flusters, even though I’ve told her about a hundred times since last night that I’m fine.
“Yes, Mom, I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.” She brushes a hand over my cheek and I pull away, shaking my head.
“Dino was just telling us...” My dad starts, limping using a cane. “About the fight being on the tube? Is that right?” He looks from me to Dino.
“YouTube.” Dino corrects, as I shoot him a death glare and he shrugs.
“Yeah, it’s nothing, Pa.”
I flip on the lights in the bar as Mom and Dad work their way through the seating area to turn on the open sign and unlock the front door like they’ve done thousands of times over the years.
I turn to Dino as I take chairs from tabletops and set them on the floor. “Don’t tell my parents shit like that. They don’t understand it. It’s just going to get them worked up.”
“Sorry, man. Hey, did you read any of the comments on that video?”
“No.” I grind my teeth, not willing to go into it any further and discuss why I haven’t had time to even take a look, but that doesn’t stop Dino.
“Yeah, probably for the best. Those three were making some serious threats, saying they were ready for round two and you just need to tell them when and where.”
I shake my head and finish with the chairs as Dino, Mom and Dad get ready for the day. Saturdays, a lot of regulars come in; it’s college football season so the bar will be hopping again, but there’s a nagging twitch that tells me to stay on my toes today. Chances are, those three could very well show back up, hoping for round two, and I can imagine this time it may not just be fists they will be using.
By two PM most of the tables and chairs at the bar are filled as Boston College is trouncing Clemson. Beer is flowing, cheers and cursing fill the bar, and while it’s mostly friendly locals just letting off a bit of steam I must be still feeling the after-effects of the fight, or maybe it’s the job situation, because something has me on edge.
My parents were so fucking happy when I got that job. They don’t want me here running this place with them. It was a good move when they bought it, this town looked like it was on its way up, not down like our former suburban neighborhood which had been turning for a while. But when the factory where my dad worked as a supervisor was laying off, it was the last straw for them. He took a buyout package, bought the bar and we moved to Plainsville.
Moving away, most kids would be pissed to leave their friends and school, but I wasn’t. I hated that neighborhood. The last few years before we moved were the worst. I’d always been the skinny kid who the bullies liked to target. I was small for my age during those years, wore glasses, babysat the local brats, mowed lawns...you get the idea.
I was a good kid, and all things being equal I was going to be a good man. But, when they’d start on me, I don’t know, they’d push and push and finally I’d go off. One year, I stabbed one of them in the leg with a pencil and got suspended for a week, even though it was three of them trying to stuff my head into the toilet.
After they’d used it.
My dad marched down to the school, but when it became clear they weren’t going to do anything about it he told them where to put their suspension and enrolled me in a martial arts class. Same day, my mom enrolled me in the local dance school.
I wasn’t too pleased about the dance classes at the time. You can imagine the wrath I was going to get from the bullies, but she was smarter than all of us. Combine the combat training with training me to move gracefully?
Before long, they were the ones laying on the ground. Older, younger, bigger, smaller...didn’t matter. I was no longer taking any shit.
Turned out, I loved to train. I hated to fight. I don’t mind getting hit, it’s not that. There’s just something inside me that shifts when I fight. Like someone else, living deep down, that wants to kill whoever is opposing me in that moment and once that switch flips, I can’t stop, not even once it’s over.
I need to annihilate them.
It’s not pretty.
And I don’t get off on it. To the contrary, I want to avoid it whenever possible. So, moving away from that neighborhood and out here to a small town? I breathed a sigh of relief.
I kept up my training, don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t have to use it as often, except here at the bar, and it didn’t take long for word to get around. Don’t piss off Stone. You will lose.
Fucking irony that the night I’m forced to let the beast stretch his legs is the same night I see the girl who’s changed my world, who’s been making my dick hard and my heart pound ever since.
The girl I need to find. The girl with eyes so bright, I still feel their light touching me now.
By the time I finished with the cops she was gone. I ran for the door, but I was too late, the bus was already disappearing down the main street and I’ve not been able to concentrate on anything since.
The worst part? When I got the call about the job falling through, part of me was relieved, because I need to find her.
I will find her.
I brace my hands on the edge of the bar, looking over at the door, thinking by some miracle she will walk back in. When it opens, my heart is in my throat, but disappointment covers me when I see the massive form blocking out the sunlight from outside.
I’m immediately on edge, thinking it’s one of the thugs from yesterday or one of their buddies, but when the guy comes to the bar, he nods at me and extends his hand.
“Hey, I’m Grizz. I saw your video and showed it to my coach. His name is Teddy Wittman and he runs Dominant Alpha Gym on the south side of Boston. We train top MMA. Ground and Pound Federation pros. And man, your video?” He shakes his head. “You fight on the circuit before?”
His manner is solid, calm, and my instincts tell me he’s not like the guys from yesterday.
I shake my head. “No. I don’t fight. Was just an incident. It’s over.”
“Well, we want to talk to you. My boss sa
id to give you this...” He reaches into the pocket of his black leather jacket and takes out a wad of cash. “No strings. Just wants to pay for your time to drive up and talk to him. Would like you to come tomorrow, just talk. If you’re interested, great. If not, shake hands and you keep the gas money.”
I shake my head, pushing his hand away. “Sorry, not interested.”
He looks perplexed, but I’m impressed by the fact he doesn’t push it. The money goes back into his jacket and he brings out a small black card. “Number for the gym is on there, just in case you change your mind. For what it’s worth, I think you’ve got the chops and the money you’d be pulling down would be life changing.” He glances around the bar. “Anyway, no pressure from us. If we don’t hear from you, I wish you all the best.”
Grizz gives my hand a quick pump, then turns and heads out of the bar. As he goes out, he passes a couple guys I don’t recognize as locals who are sitting eyeing me. A moment later, sure as shit, one is up in my face while the other holds up his phone filming, and I’m growling under my breath.
“Hey, you the guy from the video?” He doesn’t wait for my response before flashing me a gap-toothed grin, running a pudgy hand through his greasy gray mop of hair. “You don’t look so tough to me.”
It’s going to be a long day.
4
Maggie
I GRIP THE STEERING wheel of my red Volvo as I stare out the window at the bar, unable to quite believe I’m back here so soon.
After the whole fight and chaos yesterday, Wilson posted the video on YouTube, then shared it to his Facebook, Twitter, personal blog, email contacts...basically everywhere he had an account.
By eight this morning it had over a million views.
At eight-thirty, my boss called, saying he wanted me to jump in my car, go back to the bar and get an interview with the guy.
The.
Guy.
