Knockout

by J.C. Valentine

  “So…” She pursed her lips, wondering where to start.

  “So.” They looked at one another and burst out laughing. Lifting a heavy arm, Jami tossed it over her shoulders and pulled her firmly into his side. “Tell me what I’ve missed.”

  This wasn’t a sexual embrace, but one of an old friend. It was warm and welcoming and set her right at ease. Curling into his side, her hand resting on his firm stomach, Alyson allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of being in his arms again. She’d almost forgotten the comfort she felt when she was with him. It was deep, full of love, and unparalleled. “Are you sure you have time?”

  “For you, I have all the time in the world.”

  So Alyson told him everything, skipping over the night and days immediately following his arrest, and jumping ahead to the lighter times, when she had found a reason to smile again. She spoke of her last days in high school and how she had found her first true friend in Olivia, an implant from Tennessee with an accent that made her the butt of girls’ jokes and the target of guys’ attentions.

  She told him how they had become so inseparable, some of their classmates claimed they were gay. They couldn’t care less what the rumor mill was turning out. It only served to solidify their friendship.

  After graduation, they had attended the same university, worked in the same bookstore, and rented a small efficiency apartment together just so they wouldn’t have to risk being separated in the dorms. Their days were filled with ramen noodles and they learned what the true meaning of being dirt poor meant, but they had each other to lean on, and that was all that mattered.

  Olivia had been there for all of her most important life events, including the day she got her degree in social services and began working with abused women and their children. She didn’t have to explain why she’d chosen the field she did. Jami knew firsthand what her life had been like, and that alone was reason enough.

  Kissing the side of her head, Jami said reverently, “I always knew you’d turn out to be something special.”

  His words warmed her to her core. “What about you?” she asked, peering up at him. “What have you been doing with yourself all this time?”

  “Besides beating men’s faces in,” he laughed. Sobering, he released a heavy sigh. “I’m afraid I don’t have as nice and productive history to tell as yours.”

  From her angle, Alyson studied his strong jaw, the tight line of his lips, and knew that whatever he had to say he wasn’t proud of, but she urged him to continue. Good or bad, she wanted to learn everything about him.

  “You know I’ve never been a good guy,” he started.

  Despite what she knew of his history, she didn’t believe that for a second. Sure, as kids, Jami had been in and out of trouble. When she was eleven and he was thirteen, she’d watched from her front porch, along with half the neighborhood, as the cops handcuffed him and stuffed him in the back of a patrol car. She’d learned later that he’d ripped off a convenience store and spent the following week in juvie.

  As they grew up, he was suspended from school regularly for fighting and back talking the teachers. He robbed stores and homes so often it became more of an expectation and less of a sensation. Even Alyson began to think of it as something he was, rather than something he did. Crime was a part of Jami, and she grew to accept that about him, but despite all that, he had always been the best person she knew.

  “You’ve always been a good guy to me,” Alyson said softly.

  Jami’s arm tightened around her. “And you’ve always been a little fucked in the head,” he chuckled. He blew out a breath. “That night,” he began with hesitance, “I was tossed into a jail cell, which was fine. Wasn’t like I hadn’t been there before, but when I went before the judge the next morning…let’s just say, he wasn’t amused.

  “You see, not only was I being charged for battery, but they’d found drugs on me, so they were charging me with that too. He informed me that it was the last time he was going to see me in his court room. I was seventeen at the time, but my birthday was right around the corner. He told me next time he was going to charge me as an adult and make sure I saw some real time.”

  Alyson swallowed, imagining how terrified she would have been to be in his position. She couldn’t understand how he could be so nonchalant about it, but then she supposed that’s what a lifetime of being on the wrong side of the law would do to a person.

  Jami’s fingers stroked lightly down her arm as he relived his past. “After they released me, I took off. I knew that if I wanted to stay out of trouble, I needed to get away from everything.” Including her. He didn’t have to say the words for her to know what was left unsaid, and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t sting a little. “So I went to stay with some friends. They weren’t much better than the guys I usually hung out with, but I managed to keep my nose clean for a while. But money doesn’t grow on trees, and no one ever tells you if you have a rap sheet and no stable address, you can’t get a job.

  “I was eighteen when I started selling drugs. I was supposed to meet up with a buyer one night, and while I was waiting for him, this drunk comes stumbling out of a bar.” Alyson tensed, knowing the bad was still to come. “I don’t even remember what was said, but he got in my face, and when I told him to back off, he pushed me. Then it got crazy, and the next thing I knew, I had him on the ground and was pounding his face in. His friends started grabbing at me and throwing punches at my back, but nothing fazed me. I just kept punching. The sad thing was I had never felt so exhilarated in my life.”

  Squeezing her eyes shut, Alyson felt her heart twist for the boy he was and all that he had seen and experienced. She wished she could have been there for him then. Maybe she could have done something…Who was she kidding? There was nothing she could have done to sway Jami from his path of self-destruction. He’d been on it for too long. “What happened next?”

  “Afterward, this guy comes up to me and says, ‘You got skill, kid.’” He shrugged. “He told me everything I needed to hear. He said I was a good fighter and that he saw potential in me, but I still had some work to do, and if I was interested in learning, he was willing to teach me.” His voice grew distant with old memories. “He told me about the gym he ran and to meet him the next day, and I told him to fuck off. But I couldn’t shake his words. They kept replaying in my head. No one had ever seen potential in me about anything, and I guess it struck a chord.”

  Alyson grimaced, wanting to tell him that she had always seen potential in him. She believed in him, even when everyone else didn’t. But this was his story, and she didn’t want to interrupt him, so she kept her lips glued.

  “The following week, while I was jumping fences and dodging the cops,” he continued, deliberately skirting the details of what he’d done to get himself into trouble this time, “I found myself standing outside the gym the guy told me about. The next thing I knew, I was inside, and the rest as they say, is history.

  “I started training, and Don, my coach, taught me a new way to channel my anger, a new way to use my fists. He became my mentor, friend, and the father I never had. He kept me out of trouble, gave me a clean, safe place to sleep and live. He took care of me. I owe him everything.”

  As discretely as possible, Alyson dabbed a tear from the corner of her eye. If she ever got the chance to meet this Don guy, Alyson vowed to give him a big, fat hug.

  FIVE

  It was after midnight when they finally emerged from his room. The party was still in full swing as Jami guided Ally through the crush of bodies. From out of nowhere, a young, attractive woman stumbled over, grasping Jami’s arm to maintain her balance. Jami released Alyson, taking the woman by the shoulders. “Lost your way?” he asked her, amusement lacing his voice.

  With beer soaked breath, she grinned up at him through glassy eyes rimmed with smeared black mascara. “Nope,” she slurred, with emphasis on the ‘“p”.’ “I know exactly where I am.” Her hand on his chest, Jami was aware of Alyson watching as
the woman groped him.

  Disgusted by the overt sexual play by this woman, Jami forced a laugh, and grasping her hand, put a halt to her brief exploration and set her away from him. “Not tonight, doll. I’m with a friend.”

  The woman’s eyes landed on Alyson, and she scanned her up and down in a way that he’d seen women do to each other before. It was cutting, full of judgment that had a man looked at him that way, it would have earned him a black eye. When she was through assessing her, her lip stuck out in a pout. “You’d choose her over me?”

  Jami shook his head and reached for Alyson’s hand again. As he began to lead them away, he said over his shoulder, “Every day of the week.”

  “Are you sure you want to walk away from all that?” Alyson questioned him with a hint humor in her voice. “Never know when you might get another chance for a no-strings hookup.”

  Jami paused midstride and turned to look at her. “They’re all no-strings hookups. And despite what you might think I do, I assure you that I don’t. I hookup here and there, but I don’t make a habit of it. That one,” he said, pointing a finger over her shoulder at the drunken woman who was now making her way into the arms of another man, “is at every after party. She makes her rounds and throws herself at me every chance she gets, but what she doesn’t know is that she’ll never make it into my bed. I do have standards.”

  Alyson’s eyebrows lifted. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to piss you off or anything.”

  An easy smile slid across Jami’s face. “You didn’t piss me off. I just wanted to clear up that little misconception before you got the wrong idea of who I am. A lot of people tend to do that.”

  Alyson frowned slightly, but she nodded. “We should find Olivia,” she reminded him, redirecting his attention to their original goal.

  “Right, sorry. I’m officially getting down from the soapbox.” Alyson laughed and Jami smiled, enjoying the soft sound. “Come on,” he said, tugging her hand. “Let’s go track our friends down.”

  They found her friend perched on Spence’s lap, making out.

  “Yo, Spence,” he called out over the loud music. “Time to say goodnight.”

  Spence shot him an annoyed look, but after another minute of jamming his tongue down Olivia’s throat, he broke away, setting her on her feet. She wobbled a bit, and before she could fall over, he swung her up into his arms and carried her over. “She’s a little drunk,” he said to Ally, sounding apologetic, which wasn’t like him at all. Spencer had never given a flying fuck what happened to the girls he messed around with once he shoved them out the door. That he seemed to be taking an exception to Ally’s friend struck Jami as odd.

  “Did you drive here,” Jami asked, glancing down at Ally. She was eying her friend with a deep frown.

  “No, we caught a cab over.”

  Crossing the room, Jami grabbed the hotel phone and called down to the front desk. “I need a cab.” The lady on the other end of the line promised to get him one, and Jami hung up. “It’s on its way,” he informed Ally.

  “Thank you.” Slinging his arm over her shoulder, Jami began to lead her out the door. Spence followed with her friend, who was smothering his face and neck in sloppy, drunken kisses. “What about your party?” Ally questioned, dashing a concerned look over her shoulder.

  “They aren’t going anywhere,” he replied with a shrug. He wasn’t their babysitter, and he would likely be stepping over half of them in the morning.

  Riding the elevator down to the lobby, Jami removed his arm from around Ally’s shoulders and took up her hand in his, leading her toward the sliding glass doors. As they passed the front desk, the woman he assumed had summoned him the cab called out to him. “Good evening, Mr. Weston. Your cab is waiting for you out front.”

  He nodded by way of answering, and headed for the doors. Unfortunately, before they could get there, a group of rowdy couples filtered into the lobby. Their multicolored shirts with sponsor names and logos tipped him off right away that they were fans of the sport. Ducking his head, Jami pulled Alyson along, hoping to avoid recognition.

  He wasn’t that lucky.

  Two steps from the door, he heard one of the men call out to him. “Hey, aren’t you that Weston guy?”

  “Hey, yeah, man. I think it is,” one of the other men confirmed. Jami lifted his head and looked back, resigned as he slowed to a stop. Three grinning guys walked his way, their girlfriends trailing close behind them. As one of the men—shorter than him by a few inches with scraggly adolescent beard growth covering half his face—approached, Jami barely heard the request for a photo op. He was far too aware of the giggling and starry-eyed look in the girls’ eyes as they locked on him.

  Reluctantly, Jami stepped away from Ally long enough to smile for the camera, but when he realized that the girls intended to jump in on the action, he pulled away. “Sorry, guys, that’s all for tonight.” He waved politely and hurried the hell out of there.

  As promised, the garish yellow cab was idling at the curb. Relief washed over him like a bucket of cold water as he headed over and pulled open the back door. “Put her friend in,” he directed Spencer. Standing back to give him room, he turned to Ally. “Sorry about all of that.”

  Shrugging, she said, “Comes with the territory. Does that happen a lot?”

  This time, Jami shrugged. “Not all the time. I’m still relatively unknown. But I’m making my way up the ranks.” The wind kicked up a notch, blowing Ally’s dark hair across her face. Reaching out, Jami circled a lock around her ear. The tender action wasn’t like him, but by the way she dropped her head shyly, and her teeth making another appearance, raking over her bottom lip, seemed to suggest she liked it. So did Jami. It was such an ordinary habit, yet he found it highly provocative. “I’m glad you came tonight.”

  “Me, too. I missed you,” she said quietly. Almost sadly. Did she think they weren’t going to see each other again?

  “Hey,” he said, grasping her chin between his fingers and lifting her face to his, commanding her to look at him. “This isn’t goodbye, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  Eyebrows a shade lighter than her mahogany hair drew together. “It’s not?”

  A grin spreading across his face, Jami shook his head. “Not unless you want it to be.” She answered him by throwing herself against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I’ll take that as a very enthusiastic no,” he chuckled. Stroking his hand down her hair, he held her close, relishing the feel of her warm body pressed against his. He got hugged all the time, but the way she embraced him was different—warmer, more personal.

  Now that she was back in his life, he wasn’t eager to let her go, but soon he would be back on the road, and she would be here. It sucked, but that’s just the way it was. The only time they had was right now, and with the kind of schedule he kept, even that was slim.

  An idea struck him. “I’m going to be busy training now that the fight is over. I won’t have a lot of downtime, and what time I do have, I’ll probably be too wiped to do much,” he told her, gearing up to his offer.

  Turning her face up to his, she gave him a knowing smile. “Spit it out, Jamison. What are you trying to ask me?”

  Tucking her long hair behind her tiny elfin ears, the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. Little Ally had grown into a strong, confident woman while he was away. “What would you say if I asked you to come to the gym?”

  “I would say ask me and find out.”

  She was just too cute to resist. Bending down, Jami kissed her forehead, and then taking her hand in his, dropped down on one knee. “Little Ally Blake,” he said, drawing a tinkling laugh from her and calling up one of his own, “would you do me the honor of joining me at the gym tomorrow morning?”

  Pressing her free hand over her heart, Ally said dramatically, “Oh, Jami, I thought you’d never ask. Yes! A thousand times, yes!”

  Grinning ear-to-ear, Jami climbed to his feet and grabbed her up in a bear hug. He squeezed the li
fe out of her. It had been such a long time since he’d touched her that he’d almost forgotten how good it felt. They had a lot of time to make up for. He tightened his arms a little more, and then released her. After exchanging phone numbers and giving her directions to Knockout—where he performed all of his training whenever he was in town—Jami saw her safely into the cab. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

  “You sure will,” Alyson said, pushing her friend’s head back against the seat. She slumped over again, her head resting on Ally’s shoulder.

  Unable to wipe the smile from his face, Jami bumped the door closed and rapped his knuckles on the roof. Stepping back, he watched the cab pull away.

  “So did you hit that,” Spence asked from beside him. He’d almost forgotten he was there.

  “She’s a friend,” Jami said, his lip curling. “Unlike you, I don’t screw everything that walks.” He turned to head back inside, no longer in a partying mood.

  “No, just anything that crawls.”

  ***

  “Dammit, that’s twice! How many times do I have to tell you to keep your damn hands up?” Don shouted from his perch outside the ropes.

  Jami shook off the punch that his sparring partner had delivered to his left temple and lifted his guard. Shouldn’t have looked at the stupid clock, he chastised himself. All morning, he’d been watching the door, and now he was getting his ass kicked because his head wasn’t in the game. Focus, asshole.

  Mike came at him with a fast tap to the stomach, but this time Jami saw it coming. Bringing his right arm down, he blocked the blows and swiped Mike’s hands toward the mat in one quick move, then came in with a right fist, catching him on the chin.