by P. A. Jones
“Stop, you fool.” Someone shouted from behind and bully’s finger stopped on the trigger.
I looked at the source. A middle-aged man in a gray jacket was standing at the back door. His ageless torso was square and firm, indicating he worked out regularly. His eyes, filled with authority and ownership, were fixed on the bully pointing the gun at me.
The bully’s expression changed. “But he beat me—”
“I said stop, or I’ll kill you myself,” the man said.
“But…”The bully lowered his gun in frustration.
“You are my strongest man, Chase, and if he could beat the crap out of you so easily, that means he is an asset.”He came forward to face me.“It excites me to see someone fight like you. It’s been a long time since I’ve someone beat this jerk.”
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I’m Daniel Jordan, owner of this club and many like these.” He reached out his hand.
My right hand was in immense pain. I couldn’t even think of putting it forward. I extended my left hand to shake. “Sorry, but my right hand is injured.”
“Don’t worry, someone will look at it.” He clapped his hands and two Asian women came running to him.”Get him to our in-house doctor. I want his wounds looked after ,”he ordered.
“It’s okay, Mr. Jordan,” I said, “I can handle this one myself.” I turned back toward the door; I wanted to get out of there. It had turned a lot messier than I had imagined and I needed a breather.
“You are free to go, Mr....”
“Tristan Scott,” I replied.
“Yes, Mr. Scott.” He paused for a second.“I think I’ve an offer for you.”He looked in my eyes with some kind of authority. I was sure many people would agree just by the power in his eyes.
Offer? What offer is he talking about?“What kind of offer?”
“Looking at your skills, I want you to be my daughter’s body guard. Lately, she has been jumping into many dangerous situations.” He looked at the girl who was the cause of this all. “Am I right, Nikki?”
Nikki Jordan. I said that name couple of times. It suited her. Blue eyes, long hair, lush lips and a curvy body. Her heart-shaped face turned dark when her father referred to her. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.“Umm…” She tried to say something without any success. She looked afraid to talk with her father or she had been in too much trouble, which her dad didn’t like. Looking at the way she tried to put me in the fight made sense with the later guess, that she had been in many troubles recently. But still she was an innocent-faced, beautiful girl. If it wasn’t for the situation she’d brought on me, I might have thought about her once or twice.
“Sorry, I can’t accept it.” I replied while still staring at Nikki, she had a magnetic touch and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.
“Take this.” He handed me a business card.“If you want, you can participate in my MMA battle ground as well.”
“MMA battle ground?” I raised my chin in shock. What kind of business was he in?
“That’s a side business of mine and I’m always in search of a talent like you.” His eyes glowed as he looked in my eyes.
“Thanks, but no thanks.” The days of fighting were over for me. I turned back and walked out of the bar. My Civic was parked outside, and it was an automatic. I looked at my right hand. There was no way I could drive with that hand. My left hand was the saver for me.
I thumped the steering wheel with my left hand. If it wasn’t for that injury, I would be fighting in the ring now. But the past is gone and I will have to live with this.
I managed to drive further into the city. I parked my car outside the book store and walked in. With the money I won in my MMA career, I had opened a used book store chain. It worked well and I could keep the frustration away, keeping myself busy in the work. The new business even helped me financially; at least I could take vacation whenever I wanted and spend lots of money on roaming around the world.
“Hi, Tristan.”Trisha, my receptionist, greeted me as I entered my book store.
“Hello, Trisha,” I replied with a weak smile; with the pain, it was even hard to do that, “Can you grab me couple of aspirins, please?”
“Yes, of course.” She walked pretty fast. For a nineteen-year-old girl, she was very cute and childish. In all my branch offices, I employed college students for part-time jobs. That way, they could earn some money and I could spend some time with other people; I needed human interaction. After leaving the MMA and moving to New York, I had no contact with anyone and it sucked, big time. These young people were my contact with the world and I needed that. “Take this, please.” She came back with couple of tablets and a glass of water.
She waited until I gulped the water, the tablets sliding down my throat.
“Are you all right? Do you need anything else?”she asked with concern in her voice.
“I’m fine, Trisha. Thanks for asking.”
“Tristan, we received a shipment of books today, but it is very heavy for me.” She looked down.“Could you please help me in putting them on the top shelf.”
“Off course,” I replied.
Trisha reminded me of the girl in the club. Trisha had a shade of blue in her eyes like the girl. Nikki Jordan. Her eyes were livelier; she was older than Trisha, of course. Maybe in her early twenties. Twenty-three or four, max. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, and still she looked pretty, especially her blue eyes. They looked so energetic.
Trisha handed me the books one by one. When I almost dropped a book, she giggled. She always acted like a kid. But her smile reminded me of Nikki’s smile. ,her smile is killing me. I couldn’t stop thinking about her lush, pink lips, ready to be kissed and get messy—the good kind of messy. The more I thought about her, the more attractive she became. It had been more than six months since I’d touched a girl. Maybe my inside urge was reminding me of my bodily needs. But was she just a body need or something deeper?
“Mr. Scott,” Trisha asked.“Are you daydreaming?”
Her words snapped me out of my thoughts of Nikki. I looked down; she was looking at me with a mischievous smile on her face.
“No,” I replied, putting the final book on the shelf. “Do you need any more help?”
“Nope. That’s enough. Thanks.” She smiled.
I jumped down and sat in my office, thinking about my life so far. It had been a year-and-a-half since I’d fought with anyone. The most disturbing thing was my own attitude towards that gun and death. I’d been in many fights, but having a gun pointed at me—this was the first time. Am I really ready to die? Is it over already? No, it can’t be over. It was like I lost the direction of my life.
What would I say to her if she asks me what I do for living? My mind went back to Nikki again. I pushed my hair back; that reminded me that I needed a haircut. What’s happening with me? Why am I thinking about her again and again? She is the one who put me into an unwanted fight. I pushed my hair back again and again. I was disturbed by my own thoughts about Nikki.
“Are you alright, Mr. Scott?”Trisha asked me with a childish sound..
“Yeah, I’m alright. You can go home. I’ll close the book store,” I replied. I wanted some alone time.
Chapter 4
Nikki
“Thanks, but no thanks,” the man with the scar and chiseled body replied to my dad. I was still catching my breath as the incident receded. The man was on the verge of death just few minutes ago, and if Chase had shot him, the real person behind his death would be me. My knees were still feeling week, and I was holding on to Carrie for support.
I watched him with interest. .He was the only person I had ever seen speaking with my dad in such a way. A straight ‘no’ to my dad in his own club? This man has real guts. I just found it hard to digest, but the truth was real, like sunrays. That man had said no to my dad in front of my eyes.
First, he beat Chase easily and then he was talking with my dad like he was no one. The men I’d always seen talking with my
Dad were either speaking with utter respect or bowing down in front of him; at least no one ever dared to refuse an offer from him. His words completely shocked me. I could see even Chase was surprised with his attitude, and he was still holding his gun.
As Tristan walked out of the door, I grabbed Carrie’s hand and started walking outside.
“Where are you dragging me?” she whispered.
“Just shut up and come with me.” I didn’t want to lose him. I wanted to know where he was heading; I wanted to know everything about him. That man piqued my interest to the max and I wasn’t going to let him go so easily.
We walked outside of the club. Tristan was getting into a nice Honda Civic
“Carrie, get my car.” I tossed her my car keys.
“Are you kiddin’ me?” She looked at me, her eyes wide.“Are we really doing this?”
“Yes, now just shut your little trap and get my car. I’ll watch him until then.” I didn’t move my eyes from Tristan or his car. He was slowly taking out his car from the parking lot and he was surely in pain, because he wasn’t using his right hand to steer. He is hurt.
With a screeching sound of brake, Carrie stopped the car in front of me.“Hop in,” Carrie shouted.
I jumped in my car. Carrie was an excellent driver and I trusted her skills. But this time, Tristan was driving quite slowly and we didn’t have any problem keeping up with him, maybe because of his injury.
He parked his car in front of some book store. What is he doing here?
‘Scott’s Book Club’ I read aloud.
“I know this. It’s a chain of libraries, and isn’t his name is Tristan Scott?” Carrie asked.
“Yes.”
“May be he owns the chain. It’s a famous chain for book lovers. I’m a member of the shop near my place.”
“That’s great, then. You can get all the information on him easily.” My mind was filled with many ideas. One of them was to use his help to get to Stephen.
“What? Why do you want that info anyways?” Carrie said in a suspicious voice.
“I have something on my mind. Please get the info for me.” I made my puppy eyes and looked over at her.
“Damn, it’s college all over again,” she complained.“Okay, I’ll get it for you.”
I giggled at how easily she’d crumbled. When I was in college I always asked Carrie to get info on different boys and it seemed like things hadn’t changed.
***
Two days later, Carrie was sitting in my room with all the information I wanted on paper.
Tristan Scott, single, moved two years ago from Los Angeles to New York. Former MMA fighter. Won two medals in National Championship. Currently owns a chain of bookstores.
“Thanks, Carrie.” I hugged her tightly.
“You don’t know how much trouble I had to go through to get this info. I had to promise one guy working at his store for a date. Jerry is going to kill me if he finds out about this.”
“Don’t worry, if you want I’ll go out with you two. We can have some fun, you know,” I giggled. Back in college, the two of us pulled a prank on a single guy who’d been a jerk to a lot of the girls we knew. We’d gone out with him together—and let him think he’d just won the lottery with both of us together. We were shameless in those days.
“It’s like it only happened yesterday. I still remember the face of that moron. He thought he was going to have a three-some...with us. I can’t believe it’s just two-and-a-half years since then.”
“Yes, and Jerry was all burned up on you for doing that.” I raised my hand for a high five.
“Those were fun days.” She giggled, but then she became serious. “You shouldn’t have left college like that.”
“With Stephen, I couldn’t just continue there,” I sighed, as sad memories filled my heart.” It’s been six months since I’ve seen him.”
“You will see him soon. Don’t lose hope.” Carrie tried to console me.
***
“Are you sure you want to do this, Nikki?” Carrie asked, looking through the driver’s window.
I was standing outside my car, looking at Tristan’s house.“It’s a nice house, Carrie.” I turned around to face Carrie.“As I said, just message me if you see anything suspicious.” I was actually going to break into Tristan’s house. I couldn’t help myself; if I was going to get him to work for me, I had to know more about him. And his house was the first place to look.
“But—”
“No buts. I’m going in. Just keep an eye on things out here, and let me know if anybody’s coming.” I breathed deep. After Carrie had gotten information on him, I’d visited the house last night when Tristan was in his book store and I’d found it was pretty easy to get in.
“Take care,” she replied.
I looked around; it was a perfect late afternoon. No one was on the streets and even the neighbors’ houses were up for sale. So nobody was watching me. A perfect time to break in.
I looked at his house. He really had great taste in architecture—or at least whoever had built it did. . The house was small, but aesthetically built. It was a two-story house with a small pool in the backyard and a beautiful green garden in the front yard. The yard was protected by stone walls; even the outer walls of the house were built with stones, giving it an old, classy look. I was sure that the house would look great on the inside as well. Someone must have spent months thinking about the design.
I quickly crossed the road and jumped inside the garden. For this adventure, I had dressed in my tight track pants and a sweatshirt with a hood to hide myself from anyone who might be around. I showed a thumbs up to Carrie looking at me and walked around to the back yard. While looking at his house yesterday, I had found a window open on the back and I could easily get inside through it.
After a minute of effort to open the window, I was quickly inside the house. I landed in an exercise room. Various exercise equipment were lined against the walls. A treadmill, a punching bag, a pull up bar fitted in the opposite wall and lots of weights filled the room. I touched the treadmill. I felt a thin layer of dust on it; he must not have used it in a while. Only the punching bag had no dust, like it was used regularly.
I walked out of the room and found myself in a hallway. I moved further on, into a beautiful living room. The room had one big window showing the outside garden, and one wall hosted a big, flat screen TV surrounded by two bonsai trees, and the wall was textured in a nice, light red color from behind. A beautiful six seated sofa was placed in front of the TV and it looked comfy. Then, the most beautiful thing caught my eye: a wall made up of a big fish tank.
Lots of colorful fish swam around the huge water tank. I couldn’t control myself and watched them playing around for few minutes.
I was snapped out of my meditation by a sound, the sound of a key in the latch. Somebody was opening the door. Fuck, why didn’t Carrie tell me? I was stuck like a fool. I ran back to the exercise room and opened the window, but it was jammed. Holy shit. My heartbeat went into overdrive. You are screwed big time, Nikki. I had no logical reason to be in his home. What if he calls the cops? Dammit, what should I do now?
I peeked in the hall. Nobody was there; he must have gone to his bedroom. Slowly, without making any sound, I started sneaking to the front door. If I could get to the door, I could run to the car and get the hell out of here with Carrie. He wouldn’t even recognize me. But destiny had decided to cause trouble that day. I was halfway in the hall, and a door opened from behind the fish wall.
Tristan was standing behind the wall, wearing only his shorts. His bare body was right in front of me. I was frozen. I couldn’t move. I am dead and he will just call the cops. Why the hell did I come to his house? Carrie was right; I am an idiot.
I cursed myself a thousand times in those few seconds; still, I couldn’t get a grip. My heart was racing with the speed of a bullet train. It felt as if it might jump out of my rib cage. He started walking towards the common door; I ran back to the exer
cise room.
I stood near the door of a closet in the exercise room. I was all ears, listening for his sound. His footsteps stopped somewhere in the hall and then they became clearer; he was heading to the exercise room. Oh my God, oh my God, what should I do? Sweat was gathering around my neck. My mind was running around all the possibilities, but it couldn’t find an answer. I looked around to hide somewhere—the closet. The closet was the only option; I opened the door and hopped in. Fortunately, it was big for me and I could hide behind the clothes.
His footsteps grew louder as he entered the room. My heartbeat was on the rising side again and I was afraid that Tristan would be able to hear them so I pushed my hands on my heart.
His footsteps stopped somewhere in the room. I concentrated more on his sounds. He was quiet for few moments and then the footsteps came towards the closet.
Calm down, maybe he is walking towards the treadmill. I tried to remain calm, but it was impossible. My forehead and my palms were already sweaty. The closet door opened. My heart stopped. I closed my eyes. I waited for him to grab me or just pull me out, but nothing happened. Maybe he is staring at me, thinking of what to do with me. I wasn’t on his good side, so there was no way he could just allow me to walk out that easily. I was just dead gone.
I gathered all my courage I could get and opened my eyes. I expected to see him standing there, staring at me. But he wasn’t there. The door was half open and he wasn’t standing there. I heard some sound from outside, the sound of punching and kicking a bag.
I had been saved for the moment. He must be practicing in the room. I was saved from big trouble. I sighed and then closed my mouth with my hands. I could have given myself away already. I tried my best not to make any sounds.
Slowly, I shifted to the left so I could peek out and see what was going on, see what he was doing. My suspicions were right. He was pounding the boxing bag with red boxing gloves on. My breath choked inside my throat as I saw his half-naked body in action. His left side was facing toward me and that was enough to set me on fire. His muscular shoulders were meeting his elongated neck and that was ending into an excellent, V-shaped torso. I couldn’t see his body from the front, but his shoulders, biceps, chiseled chest and his trimmed waist were killing me from the inside. I’d seen many perfect male bodies in my life, but seeing a fighter like this was a first for me. Jerome had had a muscular body, but he never had the ripped muscle mass this man had.
