Love, Lies, & Crime: Anthology

by Kimberly Blalock

  “I expected to win! I wanted to kick his fuckin ass!”

  We make our way into the locker room and I open my locker to grab my duffel bag. Slamming the locker shut, I stalk back toward the exit. Glancing at Rob, I huff, “I’m headed to the gym.”

  Rob stops me. “Wait, what? You just got your ass kicked. You need to relax for a second.”

  I shove him to the side. “I don’t have time to relax. I need to train harder this time.”

  I’ve been training for the past six months, and it hasn’t been easy. When I first joined the gym, I was fresh meat, a college dropout with a nasty temper who needed an outlet to control it. My parents weren’t very pleased with me dropping out of college and along with their support, they vanished.

  Rob had heard from one of his buddies in law school that fighting was pretty popular in the underground, and suggested I try it out. He had even recommended a training facility so a week later, I showed up, ready to learn.

  “I’m not going to punk out of this Rob. I’m worth more than getting spit on. I’m gonna train harder, focus more, and do great things. Nothing’s going to get in my way. If someone does, then they can fuck off, because I don’t have time for nonsense.”

  Pushing past him, I step out into the hall and hear the cheering crowd as The Eagle is awarded his new victory belt. Jealousy and rage build inside as my hand balls into a fist. Unable to control it, my arm punches into the cement wall.

  “Fuck!”

  Blood trickles down the fresh wounds on my knuckles but I ignore the pain, only using it as a catalyst to deepen my desire to win. Being the best is the only thing on my mind, and nothing will stop me.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Taylor

  AS I STEP ONTO THE practice mats, my training coach, Victor, steps opposite me. Sparring pads are strapped around his hands, ready to brace the impact of my kicks.

  Slamming the pads together, preparing his stance, he calls out, “I’m ready Taylor.”

  Nodding in response to his statement, I stalk toward him and flash a series of high kicks into his padded hands. Each kick hits the target and he grunts as the force of the impact hits him. After several minutes, he raises his hands, gesturing for me to aim higher. I nod and continue with a series of four kicks with my right leg.

  Sweat starts to spill down my face as adrenaline heats inside. Evening my breath, I concentrate on each glove, aiming for my target. The sensation of the strength of my leg in the air rolls through me as I continue the exercise.

  Victor steps back, lowering his hands as he breathes out. “Left leg.”

  Aiming for the same target, I lift my left leg and snap a set of four kicks. Deepening the impact each time, I breathe calmly, composing energy.

  For the next fifteen minutes, I alternate legs and continue with the kicking exercise. Victor approves of my ability and strength each time I switch legs.

  Once I’m done, Victor takes off his sparring pads and gestures toward the punching bag. I walk to grab my bottle of water and take a quick sip, letting the liquid cool my body down. When I’m done, I set the bottle down and walk over to the punching bag. I wind my arms, readying them for the drill. Grabbing a set of gloves, I slide them on each hand and face the bag, standing in position. Planting each foot down into the mat, I stare into the punching bag, letting out a deep breath. Lifting each arm into boxing mode, I focus on the task at hand. Sensing Victor behind me, watching from afar, my right arm moves with speed, directly into the bag. The pounding impact echoes and I continue to hit, alternating arms. Left, right, left, right.

  Quick jabs pound into the bag. Heat builds inside as I tune out the others and focus on my opponent. The bag swings back and forth as I punch, continuously beating it with each glove. The metal chains crackle as the bag swings, clinging to its ceiling anchor. Deep breaths escape my mouth as my arms flash through the air, hitting the target.

  Time passes in what feels like a few seconds then Victor shouts from across the room, “Taylor, I think that bag has had enough for the day.”

  The laughs from other gym members echo as I see him out of the corner of my eye. I glance up at the clock and realize I’ve been punching for almost thirty minutes. I look at the bag and my arms slow their pace. I grunt as I lay in the last few punches.

  Slowing my advances as my body starts to relax, I let out deep breaths, cooling down. Once relaxed, I step off the mat, removing my gloves and tossing them onto the bench.

  Victor approaches. “We need to start working on building your core. Once you’re in the ring, anything can happen. Basically, all rules are thrown out the window, and I want you to be prepared.”

  I nod. “Yeah, I don’t want a repeat of last time. I thought I was ready.”

  Victor pats my back. “It’s not about being the fastest or the strongest; it’s about playing the game smart. Work smart, not hard. There’s no point in training if you don’t lay out a strategy. It’s all about studying your opponent and planning your next move.”

  Agreeing with his advice, I sigh. “That’s what my problem is. I let The Eagle get to me. I let my guard down, and he took advantage of it. I lost control.”

  Victor nods. “That’s something else we need to work on—your anger. I saw a video of the fight; although you clearly showed skills, you were careless. You showed vulnerability and unfortunately, anger reveals itself as weakness.”

  We walk together toward the sparring area and I ask, “Who am I sparring with today?”

  Victor steps up and smiles. “Me.”

  My eyes grow wide and I laugh. Victor isn’t as young as he used to be. He’s several inches shorter than me and definitely not as fast. His old age doesn’t help either; he’s easily fifteen years older than me.

  Victor steps into the ring, calling out to me, “What, you scared kid?”

  Shaking my head, I reply, “Of you, old man? Ha! Never.” Stepping into the ring, I plant my feet, readying into a fighting position.

  A couple of the other guys see us and gather around, cheering for Victor. Some even warn me to watch out, saying the old man has some serious skills.

  Laughing at their warning, I stalk toward him and he suddenly advances, aiming his leg right into my chest. The impact happens hard and fast, causing me to fly backward and crash onto the floor. Roars from the crowd echo and my eyes repeatedly blink as I gather myself. Gaining composure as I stand, I shout at Victor, “What the hell?”

  He laughs. “Too slow kid.”

  Smirking with anticipation, I say, “Bring it old man.”

  Victor chuckles. “Who you calling old?”

  Stepping closer, I rush toward him and ball my hand into a fist, ready to hit him hard. I swing my right arm toward his chest and it hits the target, but Victor keeps his stance. At that instant, he dives to the floor and swiftly kicks my legs out from underneath me. Falling back, he grabs a hold of my leg and throws me across the ring.

  Pain shoots out from my shoulder and back. The other guys cheer and laugh, causing my blood to start heating. The boiling heat courses throughout my body as I feel the blood rush to my head. Hard fists ball as I jump into fighting position, humiliated and pissed that I’m getting my ass kicked.

  As I growl under my breath, Victor flashes a set of high kicks, but I manage to avoid each impact. Diving away from his attacks, I roll across the floor and into a safe corner. Spinning around to face him, I balance as my left leg kicks hard into his chest, causing him to fly backward. Without any pause, he jumps back up and stalks toward me.

  I ready my fist and swing for his jaw, but he blocks my punch. At that moment, he lands an uppercut right into my face and I stumble backward. Without any warning, another punch lands on my face and I fall backward. Victor crouches over me, continuing to punch my face, alternating hands.

  My arms frantically try to block his attacks, but it’s no use. The impact of his punches causes pain to explode as I feel blood spurt out of my nose and trickle down my mouth.

  He shouts
, “Come on kid, fight for yourself!”

  The rising temperature inside me heats to a boiling point. Bellowingout a growl, my hands move quickly, grabbing hold of his as I bend my legs into my chest and swing them out into him. His body flies off me and I stand up, wiping the blood off my face with the back of my hand. Victor slowly stands and I see his chest heave up and down, clearly showing his battered state. Sweat beads down his face and his breathing is ragged.

  He steps closer with a smile. “Good Taylor. Know when to use maximum strength to attack your opponent. Utilize flexibility to get out of a pinch.”

  I nod. “Got it.”

  “I sense a bit of anger seeping out of you; control it. Emotions can be weakness and can get you hurt. Control your emotions.”

  Breathing out, I answer, “Yes, sir.”

  He steps away to take a sip of water and I follow suit. After my drink, I unscrew the cap and pour it over my head, allowing the cool liquid to spill down my heated body.

  Dabbing a towel to wipe the sweat away, I stretch my arms and legs, making sure they don’t cramp later on.

  Victor calls out from behind me and I turn to see him back in fighting position. I put the towel down and step closer, steadying my position.

  Victor gives me a sly smile. “Again.”

  SEVEN YEARS LATER

  CHAPTER THREE

  Taylor

  THE BUZZING SOUND of my apartment bell sounds throughout the apartment, waking me from my sleep. Groaning as the annoying sound continues to buzz, I stretch my arm, letting out a yawn. The bright sun sneaks a shine through my bedroom curtains as the sounds of the busy city streets echo outside.

  Soft fingers trail from my groin up to my bare chest, like a spider hunting for its prey. The sexy blonde escapes from under the sheets and smiles. “Good morning handsome.”

  She plants a kiss on my lips and lets out a soft moan. Her hands travel back down my bare chest, farther south to their destination. Ignoring the sounds of the buzzer, I focus on the gorgeous blonde as she grazes my stomach and grabs hold of me. Closing my eyes, I allow her to take control, the pleasure intensifying with each pump.

  She whispers softly into my ear, “Do you like this?”

  Seething through my teeth, I manage to say, “Yeah, don’t stop.” I move my hand on top of hers and guide her on how to stroke it. Up, down. Up, down.

  After a couple strokes together, I pull my hand away and let her take full control. She moves closer, brushing her naked body against mine. “Shit, that feels good.”

  She chuckles softly and bends to bite my ear. Growling under my breath, I open my eyes and move her hand off my dick. In a flash, I roll on top of her and plant a hard kiss on her lips. The sharp taste of her tongue tangles with mine. Her nails dig into my skin as she scrapes them up and down my back.

  Reaching over to my dresser, I open the top drawer and grab a condom. Within seconds, her legs are wrapped around me as her angled body welcomes me. Sliding inside her, she moans as I fill her. Breathing with desire, my head dips backward as the pleasure seeps inside, building from within. My hands trail her smooth skin, traveling up and down. Petite perky breasts bounce along as we move in sync, letting the pleasure surround us.

  Her breathing becomes shallow as our contact begins to dive deeper. Unable to hold on any longer, I let go, exploding with a growl.

  At that instant, Rob bursts into my bedroom and shouts, “What the fuck man! I’ve been buzzing you!”

  Embarrassing cries from the girl echo in my ear and I look at Rob, not giving a shit about my current position. “Uh, I’m busy.”

  Rob shrugs. “No shit. Hurry up, we got a plane to catch.”

  “Give me fifteen minutes.”

  Rob nods and slams the door. I laugh and glance down at the blonde. “Sorry Lisa. I gotta run.”

  I pull out of her and roll off the bed, walking toward the bathroom. Lisa shouts behind me, “It’s Lauren!”

  Not looking back, I shrug. “Be sure to be gone by the time I get out of the shower.” As I shut the door, I hear her call me a dick; I laugh as I take off the used condom and toss it in the trash. After a quick shower, I pull on a pair of jeans and a black polo then slide my feet into black Chucks. Looking at my reflection, I apply a coat of gel to my slick black hair, allowing it to spike slightly. A tiny hint of Eternity by Calvin Klein completes the outfit, and as I walk out of the bedroom, I clasp my silver chain.

  Walking into the living room, I find Rob watching ESPN and ask if he wants something to eat. He glances back and denies my offer. Walking toward the kitchen, I glance at the clock to ensure we have enough time to get to the airport.

  I yell toward Rob, “What time’s the flight?” I open my fridge and grab the orange juice and three prepackaged hard-boiled eggs. I pop one egg into my mouth as I pour the juice into a glass.

  “The flight is at ten thirty. Are you already packed?”

  Stepping back into the living room, I reply, “Yeah, I packed two days ago.” A realization hits me. “Wait, how did you get into my apartment?”

  Rob laughs and slides off the couch. “I ended up ringing all the bells and eventually someone buzzed me in, then your door was unlocked. I gather you were too distracted to lock it last night.”

  We both laugh and I shrug. “Yeah, that was Lauren. I met her at Aria last night.”

  Rob’s brow curls. “Aria?”

  “It’s a new club that opened recently in the Bronx. It’s a chill spot actually. You’d like it there.”

  Rob chuckles. “You know I stay far away from the Bronx. All the crazies live there. I’ll play it safe and stay in the city.”

  I plop the second egg into my mouth, washing it down with the orange juice. “You’re missing out. The crazies are usually the freaks.”

  He protests, “Nope, I’m good right here.”

  I finish my breakfast and head to the bedroom to grab my luggage. Minutes later, Rob and I hail a cab and make our way to LaGuardia. I pull out my phone and dial Victor’s cell phone number. Seconds later, he answers. “I’m on the way to the airport. You ready kid?”

  I nod. “Yup, this is it. I can feel it.”

  “I have a good feeling too, son. All these years of hard work will pay off.”

  “I’ll see you at the airport.”

  “See you in a bit.”

  I hang up the phone and push it back into my jeans pocket. Rob flashes me a smile and punches my shoulder. “You got this bro.”

  I sigh. “It’s about damn time. Getting my ass kicked by Victor and training harder than ever better be worth it.”

  “It hasn’t been only that. You’ve won fights since your first.”

  “Yeah, but nothing substantial enough to get noticed. It’s like you being on some big case for several years and never getting any recognition for it.”

  He scoffs, “Shit, I know exactly how you feel. There’s a new associate at the firm and god, she’s good—too good.”

  I shake my head. “You better squash her and fast.”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “But she’s a good attorney and she’s really nice. I—”

  I exclaim, “Are you going to let a woman surpass you!? Oh…I get it—she’s hot, isn’t she?”

  He snorts. “She’s gorgeous, but I’m not into her. We’re working on a case together, and she’s great—annoying, but great.”

  We continue our banter as the cab continues its drive to the airport. When it drops us off at the curb, I see Victor standing outside and waving at us.

  “What took you so long?”

  Rob points toward me. “Blame him. He was giving a pretty blonde a morning spank.”

  Victor laughs. “Hey, any exercise is better than no exercise, right?”

  I nod. “Damn right!”

  We all laugh and head inside to check in for our flight. I give my ID to the airline attendant as she searches for my reservation. She hands me my ticket. “Have a safe trip to Miami, Mr. Monroe.”

  I quickly glanc
e at her name, flash her a smile, and wink. “Thank you, Mandy. It’s a shame, you should be coming with me.”

  Her eyes shine and her cheeks immediately flush. She giggles as my fingers brush along her hand. Rob shoves me off and pulls me away. “That’s enough Casanova.”

  Sliding my black hoodie off my shoulders, I hand it to Victor. He grabs it and pats my back. “Remember kid, stay alert and stay quick. Anticipate his next move.”

  As I roll my neck and shoulders, the noise of the crowd pumps me up. “I got this.”

  Rob yells out, “Kick his ass man!”

  Before stepping into the cage, I glance around the arena and take in my surroundings. Easily over a couple thousand fans scream from the stands, cheering, yelling, and shouting at all octaves throughout the arena.

  The official referee steps inside the ring and motions for me to follow behind. From my side, I see my challenger, Steele, step into the light. He’s about my height, but his muscle mass is insane; he’s definitely bigger than me.

  Be quick; use your speed.

  Remembering Victor’s training, I size up my competition, starting to analyze him and composing my plan of attack. The ref motions for us to step forward and shake hands, but instead we just nod at each other.

  In a split second, the bell rings and my body immediately reacts, ready for attack. My body crouches as I step slowly, hands up, making sure to guard myself and protect my face. Steele advances toward me and throws a punch, but I quickly evade his attack. Stepping around him, I land a swift kick right into his chest, but he recovers quickly.

  His broad chest handles the impact very easily. Shit, need a new plan.

  Distracted as I think, a punch lands on my cheek, causing my head to fly backward and my feet to stumble. I instantly feel my stomach cry out in pain as a fast kick pounds into it. Falling backward, I sense strong arms wrapping around my neck, trying to grip me into a chokehold.

  Trying to jerk out of his grasp, I bend my arms and thrust an elbow upward, slamming into his jaw. I’m instantly free of his hold as he stumbles away from my hit.

  Now’s my chance.