Enigma Read online

  No more forty-five-minute taxi rides to the gym. And there is a dojo a block over that I can join, Limitless Martial Arts. Mr. Huang was much easier to deal with than Mr. Rebel. Liam Rebel...I don’t know what his problem is with women, but he’d better get over it soon. I’m joining his gym, or I’m gonna call an attorney. Hopefully, it won’t come to that. I don’t want to be that kind of girl. I wanna earn what I get with hard work, not by making threats.

  I’ve taken all his arguments and turned them back on himself. I’ve done something about every single one of them, especially those big ones. I now live across the street, so there’s no need for a separate shower or bathroom. I can run home if those needs arise.

  I also love that my new apartment is five stories above his place. I look out the big picture window in my living room and see Liam rolling up the garage doors. And here comes the Enigma on his bike. They aren’t going to know what hit ‘em today. I may look like Barbie, but I’ll drop you like G.I. Joe.

  “NO DISRESPECT, SIR, but that’s bullshit.”

  “Bullshit? It’s not bullshit. It’s my place, and here,” he holds his arms out and does a complete circle to show the vastness of his kingdom “I am Dictator and my rules reign supreme. No bullshit.”

  “Well, you got the ‘dick’ part right,” I mutter under my breath.

  He rakes his eyes over my body from head to toe, and a small smile lifts the corners of his lips.

  “Listen, Jade, is it?”

  “Yeah, it’s Jade.”

  “Jade, you’re a beautiful distraction to the process of training. I don’t think the men here would get much done if you were showing up in skimpy workout wear doing your program.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t own skimpy workout wear. Look at me?”

  His eyes look over my body again, and this time they take in the yoga pants that I cut to above knee-length. The hem is rolled, and tiny little thread strings are hanging from the less-than-perfect sheared edge. I twirl in a circle to show him that my butt is sagging in the material because I bought these pants at Goodwill and couldn’t bother to try them on to check for fit with a twenty-five cent tag on them. Sold. They are NoGA; for twenty-five freakin’ cents.

  My t-shirt hangs past my waist since it’s a man-sized faded Megadeth T-shirt that reads ‘Killing Is My Business.’ An old roommate came home with a drunk Tinder swipe right last year. He left it on our living room floor after fucking her sideways on our couch for what seemed like hours. I scored it as a consolation prize for having to listen to them for that long.

  If I were like most girls my age, I’d knot it up at my waist and show off my chiseled abs, but I’m not vain. And why give anyone a peek at how in-shape I am? I keep ‘em guessing, so they don’t know what’s coming at them.

  Rebel’s phone rings, and Liam leaves me standing there like a mannequin on display to take the call. He stretches the cord across the floor to the desk to write something down. He reaches for the calendar and starts flipping months. This could take a while, so I walk around and get a feel for the place.

  Several of the guys nod at me as I walk around, their tongues drooling with unspoken thoughts of lust and sex as they smile big. It’s the Barbie effect. Too bad they don’t realize most blonds aren’t dumb.

  I step on the mats and bounce on them with my tippy-toes to feel how cushioned they are. Pretty nice. They aren’t torn or covered in duct tape, which is surprising for a pack of rough men.

  The old man that trains the Enigma looks at me from the side of his eye. It’s the look of someone who’s been around the block a few times, and never trusts the newcomer. He’s sweeping off the training mat with an old corn husk broom.

  “Excuse me, Sir,” I clear my throat to gain his attention. He looks up at me in acknowledgment but doesn’t say a word. “Why are you doing that?”

  He grunts before speaking. “What’s it to ya?” His heavy southern accent comes across gruff and mistrustful, like I thought it would.

  “You’re not supposed to walk on the mats with shoes on, but idiots still do it. I sweep it so pebbles and shoe dirt don’t cut me or my fighter, or rip the mats.” He grunts again, but this time it’s more like a dismissal, before he goes to the far side of the mat to sweep.

  That was stupid of me. “Sorry about stepping on the mat with my shoes,” I say to him before turning away.

  Liam whistles with his two fingers at me from across the room causing the whole place to look at me. I walk over to him with an annoyed look on my face. “Do you whistle at the men in here like that?”

  “No, but they also don’t go wandering where they aren’t supposed to either.” He smirks at me showing me the tiniest dimple in his left cheek. He secretly likes our little jabs at each other.

  “Don’t whistle at me, and I recall specifically giving you my name. In case you’ve forgotten already, it’s Jade. As in green like emerald, or the forest, or moss, or grass, or my eye color.” I point to them and draw his attention upward to my face. He stares dumbfounded and speechless.

  “Wow. You’re a big ball of pleasant sunshine, aren’t you?”

  “A fighter should never be described as a ‘big ball of pleasant sunshine” unless you are ready to be taken down.” I crack my ankles loud enough for him to hear it. Yeah, I’m loose. “Is that what you’re asking for?”

  He laughs, the deep timbre of his voice echoing off the stone walls.”Easy killer. That’s not what I’m suggesting, but I should take you up on your offer. You know, to see how good of a fighter you are.”

  “Alright. I’m ready. Let’s do this. Are you fighting or choosing a stand-in?”

  The business phone rings again, and he points his finger at me to hold on for another call.

  Damn it.

  I look around the room, wondering if he’s going to assign a proxy to fight for him. I see a few men I could take. They’re not too large, not that size scares me, but taking down a man is a hell of a lot different than taking down a woman.

  If I had to choose a fighter on my own, I’d pick the Enigma. He’s still larger than me, but it would be a great test of my skills. He’s a legend in the underground fighting world. Rumor has it he’s been fighting since before he was ten. That’s fucked up. I still can’t believe he doesn’t have sponsors yet. He must be an asshole.

  Speaking of which, here he comes from his run. His narrowed eyes and tightly clenched jaw speak volumes that he’s mad as hell about something. He stands with his fists out and lets the old man with the broom tape him up. Yeah, maybe today isn’t the day to take on that challenge.

  “You still ready?” Liam approaches me from behind and kicks out my knee knocking me off balance. “I thought you were tougher than that.”

  “I’m ready. I’m just not ready for childish pranks.”

  He laughs again, enjoying himself at my expense. “I want you to grapple with Kol,” he says pointing at him. “He needs a partner since my son isn’t here today.”

  “Him?” I point back, making sure Kol and the Enigma are the same person. I never knew his real name. “Can’t we choose someone else for today?”

  “You want in; he’s the way.”

  Fuck. “Let’s go then because I most definitely want in.”

  Chapter Three - Kol

  “NO! LIAM, I’M NOT FUCKING training with a woman. It ain’t happening.”

  “Do it this one time, please? Show her how tough being a fighter is, and her dreams of training in this gym will be a memory. Don’t go easy on her,” he murmurs under his breath. She’s standing at the edge of the mat taking in every word.

  “That’s the problem. I’m in a pissy mood, and she's a twig compared to me. I don’t feel like dealing with a woman’s tears today.” My voice thunders through the room and heads are turning in our direction, but I don’t care. “Don’t ask me to do this, Liam.”

  He shushes me with his hands. “Keep your voice down, Kol. You’re shaking the rafters.”

  Lou’s arm
snakes around my shoulder turning me away from both of them to talk. “You should do it. I can’t do the floor work with you, so you might as well get some aggression out. Hell, if anything, you might get some good pussy out of it later.” We both eye her with the intensity of a wolf, one looking to mate, the other looking to terrorize. He nods his head toward her and smiles while patting my back to go for it.

  “I don’t need pussy. I need a sponsor.” But he’s right. I need a grappling partner to get some floor time in for today. I walk over to Liam and the girl, “What’s your name?”

  Her face lifts to mine, and my heart jumps in my chest when I see how damn beautiful she is up close. She’s exotic, with almond-shaped eyes and olive skin tone. Her large green eyes and small, pert nose are perfect.

  Her eyes remind me of an emerald I saw once in a department store. I remember my fingers curling into my foster mother’s skirt because I wanted to touch it so bad. The shopping rule was ‘no touching’ because we couldn’t afford to buy it if it broke.

  “It’s Jade.” My eyes are immediately drawn to her plump lips as they speak. They were made to wrap around my dick. Lou might be right.

  “Of fucking course, it is,” I laugh, throwing my hands up in the air.

  Her eyes narrow at me in anger. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It fucking means I shouldn’t touch or you might break, and I know damn well I can’t afford you if that happens but I’m willing to chance it this one time. You don’t look completely fragile.” My eyes run up and down her body for a few seconds. Her slight eyebrow raise challenges my assessment of her.

  She mutters something under her breath I didn’t hear.

  “I don’t know what’s going on here with you and Rebel, but I’m gonna give you fifteen minutes on the floor. Show me what you’ve got and then we’re done. For good.” She lifts one finger in the air between us in protest. It hangs there as her full lips form the letter ‘B’...

  “No buts. Fifteen minutes, and then you go back to whatever it is you do.” She mumbles again under her breath as Liam calls over one of his boys to tape up her wrists. I turn my back to her, tuning her out. I’m not listening to sass today.

  I remove my gloves and press down on the ends of the tape to secure the wrapping, watching her from my corner of the mat. She shifts from a one leg stretch to stand straight on both of them, elongating her calves. She rolls her neck left then right, loosening it while a few bones pop and crack. Once she’s all wrapped up, her arms rotate in small circles a few times, then she finishes by shaking her legs out.

  “Get ready.” She barks at me before taking three long steps and uses my right thigh to launch herself in the air, wrapping her legs around my waist. I kilter off balance, but I roll right before she has me on my back.

  We land on the mat on our hips as she tries to counter the closed guard sweep she got herself into, but I’m too heavy for her. I get to my knees and maneuver her into a headlock, exerting a quarter of the bicep pressure I would put on an actual opponent. Her face flushes immediately, while her full lips flatten with determination.

  She performs a hip bump sweep and digs a toe into the back of my left knee exerting controlled pressure. After a few seconds, it burns and stings making my knee fail. I land on it hard; that pins and needles feeling making it go numb. What the fuck move was that?

  We both jump to our feet and circle each other in the center of the mat. If she were a real opponent, I’d have punched her already for that last trick she played. She attempts a leg sweep and barely misses my groin. My balls felt the wind on that move. “Grrrrrr,” I roar in anger. I shake my finger at her in warning.

  I bull charge her left side, lifting her up and over my shoulder. I’d love to slam her, but her slight weight in my arms and the softness of her breasts on my shoulders remind me she’s a woman. A well-endowed woman. She may be hard everywhere else, but those breasts are real and soft as “Ow, fuck!”

  I drop her and she tuck-rolls away from me. My fingers press on my ass cheeks where she pinched me. She sits on the edge of the mat with her legs criss-crossed enjoying the view. “Did you dig your thumbs into my ass cheeks?” She giggles. Fucking giggles and Lou is chuckling too.

  “So female MMA fighters play dirty, do they?” She tries her best to tame her smug smile, but it’s still there lurking under her poker face. “Someday. Someday, Jade, I’m gonna show you how dirty I can play.” I grab my towel off Lou’s shoulder and head toward the locker room.

  “Umm, did he give up? Hey, are you giving up? I won, Mr. Rebel. I won, didn’t I?”

  “No, that means you're disqualified,” Lou explains grabbing our gear off the mat. I look over my shoulder and see he’s following me.

  I step into the locker room and drop my shorts in front of the big mirror in the main room. I turn and bare my ass to the reflection and look at my ass cheeks. Four large welts puff up under my cheeks. They burn like a motherfucker, but I don’t see any blood dripping from them. Those are some wicked welts though.

  “Walking into the men’s locker room has never bothered me, but seeing you inspecting your ass is quite disturbing.” He chuckles again, completing amused at the situation.

  “Go on, laugh it up. That shit burns bad. It's like pouring acid into an open wound. This day has been nothing but fucked up since minute one. I’m going home.”

  “You can't. You have to meet your brother.”

  Fuck. He’s right. I forgot all about that.”

  “Go ahead and get a shower. Maybe you're allergic to fingernails roughly scraping your skin in the heat of the moment." I glance at his reflection in the mirror, but he's lost in thought and doesn’t look my way. Dirty old man.

  “Nah, she did something to my nerve because it’s numb. My fucking ass is numb. I hope I don’t need a doctor. All that janky shit is cheating. He better not let her in after the stunts she pulled.” I limp over to my bag and start pulling out my shower kit.

  “I’m gonna be the devil’s advocate here, but maybe that’s all she knows. Could be that was how she was trained by someone with no morals for the sport. I seem to recall a small boy fighting his way through the underground...” he mumbles the rest of his sentence so I can’t make out the words.

  “Lou,” I sigh in frustration because my ass still burns like a lit match, “be the devil, but not his advocate.” I limp to the shower blocks.

  “You’re the devil. I’m sayin’ everybody learns from someone. Could be that she came from the underground too where the only thing that matters is the winner.”

  I finish kicking my shorts off and grab them from the floor, tossing them onto the hook along with my shirt. I turn on the water, adjusting the temperature to bearable. I don’t want to scald my ass cheeks since they’re already sizzling.

  I soap up, angrily scrubbing my skin while Lou’s comments pound my brain. Where did she learn to fight?

  I fought because Max was a greedy son-of-a-bitch. He told one story to the many social workers’ on our case, and another to the attorney’s when the need arose. He wasn’t lying, he did love everything about us kids, and couldn’t survive without us. If you read between the lines, he loved the money we raked in, and Bubba, his bookie, would kill him if we didn’t fight anymore.

  I learned a long time ago, not to believe a word that comes out of anyone’s mouth. Words can be twisted to make a low-life scum dweller seem like a hero. Every spoken word is suspect to me.

  Actions are what count in my book. That’s why ‘Acta non verba’ is tattooed across my arm like a banner. And the actions that she pulled out on the mat today are dishonorable. If she were a man, I’d have...

  “What the hell are you doing in there, shaving your legs? You’re gonna be late,” Lou hollers at me through the cement block of the showers.

  Oh, fuck. I can’t be late. Damn woman; she has my mind unfocused.

  “I’m done.” I turn off the water and towel dry as fast as I can while racing back out to the locker roo
m. The clock on the wall shows 7:42 am. I jam my feet into the leg holes of my boxers and slide them on. I straighten out the waistband before stepping into my khakis. I hate wearing pants. Anything on my legs below my knees feels odd.

  I pull my shirt from the hanger in a hurry, as the metal clangs against the floor. I leave it lay there for the time being. My fingers ride up the buttons, nimbly fastening them before looking down to double-check that I didn’t miss any. They're all in the correct hole.

  I slide my bare feet into my Sperry’s and finish finger-combing my barely-there hair. What little bit of hair I do have curls with the South Carolina humidity, and makes it very unmanageable. It needs a trim very soon, but not today. I have to meet Shawn at the attorney’s office.

  I walk out into the main room, and all eyes turn toward me. I don’t care what they think of me in my dress clothes. If a man doesn’t have many sides to his character, then he isn’t much of a man.

  My phone buzzes to let me know my Lyft driver is here. I wave to Liam and Lou, ignoring Jade as she stands there at the front desk looking pissed, probably at me. “Liam, she cheats. Don’t let her in. And don’t forget the soft opening tonight. 7:00 pm sharp.”

  “I won’t. Dontonio’s on 7th, right?” I wave my hand in agreement.

  “HEY, MAN. THANKS FOR putting up with all the bank papers and legalese bullshit. It’s a headache, but it has to be done,” Shawn pats my back as he opens the door to his brand, spanking new restaurant for me to enter.

  “You’re the only one I’d do that shit for. We may not be blood brothers, but we are brothers. And I’m proud of you. Besides, now that you have your own restaurant, I expect my pre-fight meals to be damn good.”

  “Well, then. I expect your fight shorts to have my logo on them if I am fueling that venture.”

  “Yeah, well. I don’t know how well a big, fancy ‘D’ will look on my shorts.”