Dirty Cowboy

by Alycia Taylor

  “True, is it working?”

  I glanced down at my paper while I ignored him. I could see him grinning out of the corner of my eye. He was going in whether I objected or not…the stubborn ass. As my eyes scanned the paper and I worried about Paul a familiar name caught my eye. “I’ll be damned,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Listen to this,” I told him, reading the article out loud. “Local police detective Mitch (XXX) was arrested on Monday for assault with a deadly weapon. He was booked into the L.A. County jail. It was discovered by this reporter that the detective had been released on bail that morning after being booked in only a week earlier for…you guessed it, assault. The question on my mind is this…Does the L.A.P.D. have different standards for one of their own? I can’t answer that, but what I can tell you is that Judge Hal Young who he went in front of today and our county District Attorney Dean Lane have no sympathy for him. He was charged today with not only felony assault for the first assault, but stalking, assault with a deadly weapon and attempted murder for the second. It’s nice to know the judicial system has our back.”

  “Awesome!” Paul said, finally that son of a bitch will get what’s coming to him. Although I would have loved to kick his ass myself…”

  “I hate to say this, but I’m glad you didn’t get that chance. You know how it goes; you would have ended up in jail.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he said. “I’m happy just knowing he’ll be gone long enough for my sister and her son to have a life for a change.”

  “And you,” I told him.

  “Yeah, and me…and you,” I told him.

  He drained his juice glass and said, “I’m ready.”

  I rolled my eyes again. I gave up trying to convince him not to work out; it was a waste of energy. I did draw the line at helping him. Sam and Greg were taking turns, but they both seem a little wary around me now, like they’re afraid I’ll unleash on them. I just let them think it was a possibility. It was more fun that way. I put down the paper and he helped me straighten up the kitchen before we left. We were alternating apartments, but we’d been together nearly every night and day since I got out of the hospital. I liked it…a lot.

  ******

  When we got to the gym, Paul went into the back and I worked with Justin up front. I liked not even being able to see him when he was wincing and doubling over in pain.

  “Body weight squats?” I asked Justin when he came out of the locker room.

  Laughing he said, “I’m doing well today, Jessie…thank you so much for asking.”

  “I’m sorry. How are you Justin?”

  “I’m doing well today, Jessie…thank you so much for asking.”

  “Okay smart guy, body weight squats, on the mat, now.”

  He stood on the mat and I told him, “Move your right foot out a little bit…there you go. Have them both just in line with your hips and make sure your toes are facing forward. Good.”

  Justin got into position and hen he knew what to do. He acted like he was sitting down into a chair that wasn’t there. “Keep your knees out past your toes,” I told him. He adjusted and sat back until his knees were at a ninety degree angle. Then he came back up. “Good, one…”

  With a grunt as he did the next one he said, “How many are we doing?”

  “We’ll do twelve without weight and then we’ll add weight and do eight,” I told him. “That’s two.”

  He grunted again as he went down a third time. “So Marie is single?” he said. I laughed. It just seemed like an odd time for him to ask. I could only assume that she’d been on his mind.

  “Yep she’s single and now that her creepy ex is in jail she’s available as well.”

  “I look at her and it’s hard for me to imagine what she would ever see in a guy like that.”

  I thought about my drug-dealer Justin and said, “Sometimes it takes a while before the monster within reveals itself and by that time you feel trapped. That’s five.”

  “I don’t know if I’d want to be a woman,” he said.

  I laughed and said, “Good to know. You’d be a really tall woman.”

  Laughing and grunting at the same time he said, “Funny. You know what I mean. So, did you put in a good word for me?”

  “That’s seven. No, sorry. I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

  “That’s eight, actually. You’re not paying attention.”

  “Excuse me. I will put a word in for you next time I see Marie. That’s nine.”

  “Thanks,” he said completely his next squat. “That’s ten.”

  “How are you with kids? You know she comes as a package deal.”

  “I saw that, cute kid.” He completed his last squat and said, “Twelve.”

  “Yeah, Victor is a great kid. Let’s do the next set with the bar.”

  “Just the bar?”

  “No. Put some weight on it.” I was shaking my head at him and he was grinning.

  I watched as he added weight to the bar and then said, “I like kids.”

  “Okay, if you’ll focus the rest of the work-out, I’ll call her tonight and tell her so.”

  “Deal,” he said with a thousand-watt smile. Now I was a match maker.

  *****

  Justin and I finished up in about an hour and I went back to check on Paul. He was in the ring today with Greg, both of them with headgear on and mouth guards in. I walked over by Sam who was standing next to the ropes and said, “Are they making contact?”

  Sam looked like he didn’t want to tell me. Finally he said, “Yeah, Paul insisted. He’s favoring that right side. He says he wants to practice fighting and he doesn’t want Greg to even pretend like he knows that he’s hurting.”

  “He’s an idiot. Why did Greg agree to that?”

  Sam laughed. Paul’s determined. He will find someone to do it if he says no. Greg won’t hurt him, no matter what he tells him. You know that.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I told him. I watched for a minute. Paul was blocking too much on his right side, leaving the left wide open. If he fought Trent like that he wouldn’t win. Trent would use his weakness to his advantage…any good fighter would. Greg connected a kick on Paul’s left-side and he almost went down. I watched him stumble and wince as he struggled upright. I couldn’t stand it. “When he’s finished, tell him to call me. I have some errands to run. I can’t watch this.”

  Sam winked at me. “He’s going to be okay.”

  “I know he’s a tough guy. I’m just not tough enough to watch him struggle like this.” I left, ran my errands and came back a little over an hour later. He had just finished his shower and he was ready to go. The first thing I noticed was that he looked like he could hardly even stand up straight. As we walked out to the car, I took his arm. I pretended like I just wanted to touch him, but I was really afraid that he was going to fall over.

  Once at home, he picked at his dinner and avoided talking to me about his pain at all costs. We went to bed early and once again, neither of us could go to sleep. It was different though, his winces were almost cries that startled me out of a dead sleep.

  Finally at about midnight I said, “This is ridiculous. We have to take you to the hospital, Paul.”

  He must have been hurting worse than ever, because he agreed. I helped him to the car and on the way to the hospital he said, “You know they’re not going to do anything. They’ll give me more pain meds and muscle relaxers…”

  “Let’s just wait and see what they say, okay?”

  “Okay,” he agreed.

  I signed him in when we got there. Thankfully there weren’t many people ahead of us. I knew that if we’d had to wait a long time he would have tried to get me to leave. We were taken in back and put into a room.

  The doctor came in and introduced himself and asked Paul, “So what’s going on tonight?”

  “I’m having a lot of pain in my right side,” he told him.

  “Is this new?”

  “Yeah, it started about a week ago
.”

  “Any fever?”

  “He got hit in the ribs with a crowbar,” I said. Paul gave me a look.

  “Well, there’s your problem. Ribs don’t like crowbars.”

  Paul laughed and winced. The doctor examined him and Paul tried hard not to wince every time he touched him…but it was obvious that it hurt. When he finished, the doctor said, “I’m going to send you to get some x-rays and I’ll meet you back here in a bit.”

  Paul went for his x-ray and about a half-hour later the doctor came back in. He hung the x-ray film up in the little light box on the wall and said, “You see this?” He was pointing at a jagged line that ran down along three of Paul’s ribs. “You have some cracked ribs, two of them to be exact, that explains the pain.”

  Paul wouldn’t look at me. He knew I would have an “I told you so,” look on my face although I was really trying not to. “So what can we do for them?” Paul asked. He knew the answer just like I did. Mine were still sore.

  “We take it easy and let them heal,” the doctor said. “No vigorous activity, okay?”

  “Okay,” Paul said. I was trying hard to see his face. I wanted to see if he was lying or not, but he still wouldn’t look at me.

  “I’ll write you a prescription for some pain medications and muscle relaxants. No more crow bars, no running, jumping, playing…you can get an abdominal binder if you want. The pressure helps. If anything changes…if you have trouble breathing…come back in. Follow up with your regular doctor in about two weeks, okay?”

  “Okay. Thanks doc.” The doctor smiled at me and left the room. Paul got up to put his shirt back on and I finally got a look at his face. He had an “I told you so,” look of his own. After slipping on his t-shirt he looked at me and said, “Ready?”

  “Yeah.” We picked up his prescriptions at the front desk and I quietly followed him out to the car. Once we were headed home I had to ask, “Are you going to listen to the doctor?”

  “About what,” he said.

  “Seriously, Paul? You heard what he said, no vigorous activity…”

  He grinned and winked at me, “Don’t worry baby, we can do other things…”

  “Paul Delport! You know darn good and well what I’m talking about. You shouldn’t be working out and you really shouldn’t be fighting. What if he kicks you in the ribs that are already broken?”

  He looked at me and said, “We don’t have to decide this right now, okay?”

  I didn’t agree. I had a really strong feeling that he wasn’t going to even try and relax…and I would bet my next paycheck that he wasn’t going to forfeit the fight.

  We drove silently the rest of the way home. By the time we got there it was after three in the morning. I was exhausted and I knew he had to be too. I got ready for bed for the second time that night and tried to convince myself not to bring it up again. The only problem was I knew he was going to get up early and go for a run and then go to the gym…

  “You really need to listen to him,” I said once we were side by side in bed.

  “Jessie…I’m not forfeiting this fight. I’ve worked too hard.”

  “You’ve worked too hard to have one of your broken ribs poke a hole in your lung too. Trust me, no fun.”

  “I’m not doing it.”

  “That’s it. You won’t even consider the option…talk to the organizers of the fight, talk to Trent even…try and postpone it, maybe?”

  “No,” he said. “The only option for me is the fight. I’m sorry.”

  After a while I heard his breathing become deeper and more rhythmic. I wanted to poke him in his sore ribs and make him listen to me. He made me so mad.

  Chapter Four

  The two days after Paul went to the hospital…leading up to his fight; we talked as little as possible. He knew I wanted him to forfeit and I knew he wanted me to let it go. We met in the middle and just didn’t talk about it, until that day. I woke up that morning with butterflies the size of dragons in my stomach. I swear, you would think I was the one fighting for the championship. I stretched out and realized Paul was already up. I found him in the kitchen making himself a protein drink.

  “Morning,” I said.

  “Good morning,” he said. “How did you sleep?”

  “I slept okay,” I said. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like a champion,” he said with a wink. He was so damned cute…that was my downfall.

  “You look like a champion too,” I told him. “I’m going in to work this morning, but I’ll be there rooting for you tonight.”

  He came over and took me into his arms. With his lips so close to mine I could feel the vibrations he said, “I’m going to do this tonight for us. You’ve done so much for me, Jessie…to help me get here. I know that you’re worried and I’m sorry for that. But pain or no pain, I got this. I’m going to win.”

  I put my hand on the side of his face. His skin was so warm and I was starting to tingle in places that neither of us had time for right now. “I know you are,” I told him, simply. He lowered his lips down to mine then and kissed me and then he left me standing in the kitchen with wet panties and a nervous flutter in my chest.

  ******

  I was holding my breath as I watched Paul make his way down the long, narrow aisle between the seats of the crowd that cheered and sneered and chanted his name. He didn’t look hurt. If you didn’t know he had two broken ribs and had hardly slept in a week…you would never guess. He looked energized and alive and his eyes shown with determination and excitement and I tried to breathe it in as he passed because I felt wiped out. I wished that I didn’t know how hurt and exhausted he was. Without those two things against him I’d be the most confident person in the room. Instead, I was a nervous wreck. I was reminded that I wasn’t alone as I felt the not so subtle pain of Marie crushing my hand in a death grip as she watched her brother enter the octagon. We both watched with trepidation…we were praying for the best and fearing the worst.

  I kept my eyes on Paul as he picked up the plastic water bottle and leaning his head over the bucket his trainer would offer him to spit into, he poured half of it over his head. I guess that was my proof that no matter how cool, calm and collected he looked, he was burning up with anxiety as well. I used the last trickle of water as my focal point while I willed my breathing to slow down. It ran from his head down along the side of his beautiful face and then it cut a path across the well-defined muscles in his broad chest. I watched it slowly migrate across his chiseled abdominal muscles as they moved up and down in an effort to suck in a lungful of the thick air that surrounded him.

  The sound of Trent’s name loudly reverberating off the walls brought me out of my reverie. I looked towards the back of the auditorium and my eyes landed on the mountain that was Paul’s opponent. It wasn’t that he was more muscular than Paul…it just seemed like there was a lot more of him somehow…maybe square footage wise. His arms and legs were longer and that meant a wider arc when it came to throwing punches and jabs and kicks. It would mean that Paul would have to be in constant motion…for five rounds. Trent was taller than Paul…not by much but enough so that it would be a reach for Paul to connect with anything from the neck up he would have to be up on his toes and that would set him off balance…I took in these seemingly innocuous details and I let my over-active mind imagine how they were all going to spell defeat for the man I loved.

  My heart sped up as my anxiety levels increased. It was slamming against the inside of my chest and now as I watched Paul’s opponent pacing on his side of the cage I was reminded of a hungry lion that was going to be ready to pounce as soon as his cage was opened. I looked over at Paul. He was rising up and down on his calves and he was glowing with desire. He was filled with the yearning to be victorious…he wanted this so badly that he could taste it, and so could I.

  I saw him close his eyes for a second. Paul and I had never really talked about our spirituality, but when I saw his lips moving silently as well, I wondered if he was s
aying a final prayer before going into battle. The bout was ready to start and once again the sound of Paul’s name boomed across the auditorium. He raised his gloved hands in the air and I saw him take a deep breath. My eyes searched his face for the wince but it wasn’t there. He looked like he was at the top of his game.

  As soon as the bell sounded, the mountain that was Trent bolted across the floor of the octagon and his fists connected with Paul’s flesh in an all-out assault. I would have to guess he’d been practicing his kick-boxing as well. I had to close my eyes and concentrate on the vise grip that Marie had on my fingers once Trent started landing rapid, solid blows to Pauls’ midriff. I heard the sound of his gloves connecting in places that had to be causing nothing but pure agony on every level of Paul’s being. I opened one eye just a slit and peeked out just in time to see him sink a right hook into Paul’s stomach causing him to double over in pain. As quickly as he did that, his left came flying out, connected with his head and sent Paul crashing to the floor.

  I wanted to close my eyes again but I was afraid that if I did, I’d miss that last bit of light disappear from his eyes. I saw blood splattered in tiny little droplets across the mat. I couldn’t see where Paul was bleeding from, but since he had yet to land a punch, I had to assume it was his. They were wrestling now…admittedly not Paul’s strong suit. I could see him scrambling to get his bearings. He was using his left arm, trying to pin his opponent as the right arm covered and tried to protect his ribs. This round was lost already. It was just about not tapping out or passing out now until the clock ran out. I closed my eyes again and waited for the bell.

  The sound of the bell made my eyes pop open. I watched as the trainer helped Paul over to his side. His lip was split open, explaining the blood on the floor. He stood, unsteadily as the trainer poured water into his mouth and then went to work on the cut. The excitement was gone out of Paul’s eyes already, but the fire was still there. He wasn’t ready to be counted out yet. That right arm pushing tight against his side was what hurt me the most to watch and when the next round began; I closed my eyes once more and concentrated on the sounds of the blood-thirsty crowd around me and the desperate cloying of Paul’s sister against my arm.