Текст книги "Collision"

Автор книги: K. A. Sterritt

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter Four

Juliette

“Wake up, Dick.” I pulled the covers back and gave him a not-so-gentle shove. “You have to go.”

“Don’t call me Dick.” He sat up and rubbed his eyes, yawning. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

“Oh right, sorry.” I’d stayed up too late reading a fascinating book about street fighting techniques and hadn’t had any coffee yet. I really wasn’t sorry.

Richard rolled his eyes, yawned again and then dragged himself off towards the ensuite.

“No time for a shower.” I threw his clothes at him. “Heath messaged me overnight and wants me in early to set up for a meeting.”

“Are you serious, Juliette? This is crazy. It would be far more convenient if—”

“I’m deadly serious,” I replied, cutting him off. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Can you pick me up on the way to Mum’s thingy?”

“Not sure Isabel would appreciate you calling her event a thingy, but yes, I’ll pick you up around four. It’ll take over an hour to get there and she wants us to arrive early to help welcome guests.”

Even though he’d just woken up and was being booted out the door, it was obvious how excited he was about another Isabel Fontaine affair. I wasn’t dreading it—my mother’s charity work was admirable—but I didn’t look forward to society engagements the way Richard and my mother did.

When I’d ushered Richard out the door and watched the lift doors close on him looking unimpressed and holding his shoes, I pulled my oversized t-shirt off and over my head and padded to the bathroom for a quick shower. As the hot water slowly woke me up, I mentally chastised myself for not telling Richard I was nowhere near ready to move into his townhouse a few streets away from my parents. Whilst he was dropping hints about co-habiting, I was busy formulating my next excuse to put it off. We hadn’t had sex the night before. He was tired and I was happy to read. I knew our relationship was lacking, but my mother was fragile, and it made her happy.

I wasn’t a complete martyr. I had two guilty pleasures I managed to keep a secret from everyone I knew: fight training with Zac and car racing. Tonight, thanks to Jim and Shorty’s invitation after the race last Sunday, I was hoping to add a third.

I rarely saw Richard on Friday nights as he socialised with his own colleagues, and I was ashamed about how happy that made me. We only really saw each other on weekends when we were attending a social function together. Any shameful feelings, however, were going to be forgotten when I planned to leave my colleagues at the bar sometime before midnight under the guise of heading home.

Instead, I’d get in a cab with adrenaline surging and go underground for what I hoped would be a blissful few hours. During those hours I wasn’t going to be twenty-five-year-old Juliette Salinger, daughter of social elite Isabel Fontaine and legal royalty John Salinger. I wasn’t going to be anyone’s puppet, hanging from strings I couldn’t seem to untie. I was just going to be Jules, and I thirsted for the blood spilling in front of me. Not like a vampire or anything paranormal. I’d studied plenty of fights on TV, and I simply craved the energy I gleaned from watching the pummelling impacts, the uppercuts, the right hooks and the sublime confrontation of man against man. In my mind, I preempted every move the fighters made and cringed when they deviated. It would invariably end in them knocked out, unconscious or comatose. Illegal fight nights were a whole new level, and I had a feeling I was going to be counting the hours, the minutes and the seconds between each one.

Work passed quickly. Most brokers and assistants left soon after market close on a Friday, so Heath and I were alone in a quiet office when I stood up from my desk and decided to do something I’d never done before.

“Heath.”

He looked up and raised his eyebrows, giving me the signal it was okay to interrupt him. “Is it okay if I head out now?”

“Of course. Have a good weekend.” He smiled and then went back to his work, looking back up a few moments later, obviously confused that I was still there.

“I was wondering if you have any interest in a drink with us after work,” I asked hesitantly.

“Oh.” He sat back in his large black leather chair and swivelled gently as if that would help him contemplate an answer.

“We meet each Friday night at the Z bar. Sometimes we grab some dinner too.”

“Hardware Lane. I know it.”

“No pressure. Just thought I’d ask.” I paused before risking my next statement without eye contact. “I know Sia would love you to be there.” Cringing, I looked up and saw a slight redness to his cheeks and the hint of a smile. “Well, that’s where we’ll be if you decide to join us.” I turned and walked towards my desk.

“Thanks, Juliette.”

I turned back and smiled.

“I’ll try to make it.”

***

The Z bar was buzzing with the collective release of city workers letting off some steam at the end of the working week. It was the same each Friday. From five to around seven, it was civilised. Seven to nine would see the older and possibly wiser leave to go out for dinner or home to their families. From nine onwards, it started getting a bit loose. I often wondered how many one-night stands, couplings and potential marriages could be attributed to alcohol.

“He might not come, Sia.” She had been glancing at the door since we arrived two hours ago. “He’s got a lot on his plate at work with this new listing.” I kicked myself for telling her I’d asked him to come.

“He’s coming.” Her confidence was admirable, and I couldn’t help feeling excited for her. “He’s all powerful and sexy at work, but underneath all that, I think he’s just a bit shy and needed a push.”

“Well, why didn’t you say that months ago?”

“Months ago I wasn’t planning on being out of the country for six weeks.”

“You’re a little crazy. You know that, right?”

“You say crazy. I say awesome.”

I was still shaking my head when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Can I get you ladies a drink?” Heath asked. He had removed his tie and jacket, and I was surprised at the transformation.

I was genuinely shocked to see him there and annoyed at myself for not asking him sooner.

“Corona with lime, thank you,” Sia requested.

I glanced from her to Heath and back to Sia. They were mesmerised by each other, and I felt very much like the third wheel.

I interrupted their silent gazing. “I’ll have the same.”

Heath disappeared to the bar.

“Told you so,” Sia said with a smug grin.

“You did. You’re very smart.”

We were both laughing when Heath returned with our drinks. I spent the next few hours being social. As the time ticked on, I checked my phone more regularly, waiting for the message which would apparently be sent from a different number and at a different time every month. It finally arrived at ten fifteen, and I immediately commenced my exit strategy.

Chapter Five

Juliette

“Are you sure that address is correct, miss?”

The question was probably fair enough, but I wasn’t paying him to question my destination. I was paying him to take me there.

“It’s correct.” I sat back and looked out the window of the cab as we moved away from the curb.

As we drove further and further from the city centre, I started to breathe. When we arrived at the parking lot of a closed shopping mall, I paid the driver and got out. It was dark and fairly cold, but I was soon warmed by the bodies of around five hundred other people who’d obviously received the rendezvous message. I retrieved the black loose-knit beanie from my bag and pulled it down over my head.

Within minutes, the organisers took our ticket money and then motioned to one of the buses waiting to take us to another secret location. There, I anticipated spending the next few hours being me, being happy and being free.

I took a quick look around the bus. It was mostly men with plenty of ink and piercings—pretty much my polar opposite in every way, barring their desire to be there. I wasn’t an extrovert by nature, and to blend in as much as I could, I’d worn my fitted black suit with a black sleeveless silk shirt to work. I had changed from heels to flat shoes in the cab, removed my jewellery and switched my suit jacket for a hoodie. Men noticed me and I wasn’t arrogant enough to pretend otherwise. I certainly didn’t want to dress in a way that would get me any extra attention.

Jim called out, gesturing to an empty seat across the aisle from him and Shorty. “Hey, Jules. Over here.”

“Thanks,” I replied, gratefully slipping into the seat near my racing buddies.

Despite being one of very few women, I felt no physical threat from the men.

The bus reached its destination in around fifteen minutes—a deserted warehouse in an industrial estate. I was completely disoriented. We all assembled in front of the buses, awaiting further instruction. I noticed far more women in the crowd than I’d been expecting. From what I could tell, most were wearing very skimpy outfits and were draping themselves all over the men.

Within five minutes, we were told by the organisers to enter the warehouse through the side door. The chivalrous ‘ladies first’ rule definitely didn’t apply to this situation, and I took no prisoners getting in as quickly as possible. I wanted to be front and centre. The excitement was palpable as I left my usual persona behind and entered the outlandishly exciting world of illegal cage fighting.

I’d done some research during the week in anticipation. From what I understood from the few articles available on the net, the main reason for cage fighting to be illegal here was the perception of it as a blood sport. Despite the fact that the Professional Boxing and Combat Sports Board is made up of ex fighters and industry members, they are bound by the current legislation and how the media represents the sport. New South Wales recently took over from Victoria as having the strictest rules due to a recent death in the sport. Knee-jerk reactions were unsurprisingly common, so promoters had no alternative but to say ‘up yours’ to the government and go underground.

A functional moral compass knew the fighters’ safety should be paramount, but I also knew it would drastically change the scene. Every fibre of my being rebelled against it. According to my search results, the fights were brutal and atavistic. The mere idea of it sent raw energy pulsing through me.

Jim and I took our places against the cage. I could barely stand still I was so excited.

“I’m gonna go say g’day to Bob,” Shorty squeaked over his shoulder as he disappeared into the crowd.

“Right, Jules,” Jim said. “This is a Cage Muay Thai Elimination series. It’s one of the most brutal and exciting sports in the world.”

“Okay. So, what should I expect?”

“There’ll be eight fighters who will pair off in the first four fights, halving the number who continue. The next two fights will be the winners of the first four, giving us our final two. The ultimate winner has to win three fights. There’s strategy and a lot of psychology involved. The fighters want to do enough to win, but not too much. If they get too many injuries, they might not be able to participate in the next round.”

“Are there any rules for what they can and can’t do to each other?”

“Cage Muay Thai has almost everything—the kicks, the punches, grappling. They can smash their opponents with their elbows, and even head butts are permitted. The wrestling and Jujitsu elements you’ll see in the more famous Mixed Martial Arts comps have been removed.”

“I can see why they’d do that. It must be harder to see what the fighters are doing when they’re on the ground.”

“That’s it. Exactly. Cage Muay Thai is a much better spectator sport, in my opinion, but I’m sure wrestlers and Jujitsu enthusiasts would disagree.”

“What about dirty tactics? We’re at an illegal fight. Surely it’s all pretty loose.”

Jim laughed. “Bloody hell, Jules. Are you for real?”

“What?” I gave him my most innocent puppy dog eyes.

He shook his head. “Yes, we’re at illegal fights, but there are still rules. Cage Muay Thai doesn't have many, and of course they might not always be strictly followed, but you don't hit the groin, you don't punch in the back of the head, no contact after the bell or when a man's down. Usual stuff—and oh, kidney shots are out.” Jim winced as if he were in pain. “Bloody hell. You can be pissing blood for a week after one of them."

“Have you seen much of this kind of thing?”

“Let’s just say, the last fighter seen punching his opponent in the back of the head after the bell has disappeared off the scene. The repercussions here can be far greater than getting disqualified.”

I clenched my teeth. “Got it. Don’t mess with the bad guys.”

“Pretty much.”

“Thanks for getting me on the list, Jim. I’m totally pumped for this.”

“Feel bad I didn’t ask you sooner. I wasn’t really sure if it would be of any interest until you mentioned your own training.”

“I’m just full of surprises.” We were both laughing when I felt the energy in the room change.

I scanned the warehouse for the first round of fighters. In the far left corner, I could see two groups of people in huddles. Bingo. The MC’s voice filtered through the sound system, momentarily quieting the dance music to introduce the prize fighting meat for round one. My excitement hit fever pitch. Feeling the heat from so many bodies still jostling for the pole positions, I pulled the beanie off my head, allowing my hair to spill free.

The crowd erupted with a chaotic mixture of encouragement and abuse as the first pair of fighters made their way to their cage. The men who entered the cage were of similar build and height. One had a shaved head. The other had a mop of ginger hair tied back in a ponytail. They both looked like they were on prison release from maximum security. I barely registered their introductions because to me, they were faceless bodies. Their names were of zero consequence.

When the fight began, I studied their defensive stances, first engagements, their footwork and their use of dirty tactics in a bid to decide how best to overcome them. It had been one thing watching professional fights on the TV, but this was a different experience entirely. This was dirty, rough and primal. I was in heaven.

It didn’t take a great deal of my headspace to envisage my comparatively tiny body defeating either of these two thugs, and in my mind, I had them flat on their backs with their eyes rolling in their heads within a few minutes. If you put me up against Zac in the cage, I would defeat him too. My wonderful trainer would never fight dirty, but the same couldn’t be said for me. I would do what was necessary to fuel my adrenaline addiction. A snap kick to the family jewels was the quickest way to end a fight, but I would always keep my eyes on theirs and be prepared to change tactic if necessary.

Romper Stomper and Ginger were evenly matched, so the crowd was getting a good show. I’d seen several opportunities for both of them to end it, but they’d overlooked them all and I was getting frustrated.

I yelled out to Ginger, “Spit in his eyes.” For some reason I’d decided he was marginally more skilled.

“Love your enthusiasm, Jules, but how’s he gonna do that with a mouthguard in?” Jim asked, clearly trying not to laugh.

Slightly embarrassed, I grimaced. “Oh yeah. Got a bit carried away.”

In a back alley brawl, throwing dirt in your attacker’s eyes drastically increases your chances of walking away and them rueing the day they chose you as their victim. We weren’t in a back alley though; we were at a paid fight.

Something else I’d learnt from my research was to go after their fingers and do some damage. Hands are an important part of a fighter’s arsenal, so making it so he can’t grab you or close his fist is an excellent strategy. My first-hand experience of these tactics was non-existent, so my brain was going into overdrive absorbing it in real life.

Ginger was eventually victorious on points, but it was a close match. Both men looked like they could benefit from a trip to the hospital, and I wondered if Ginger would be okay for his next fight later. Two new fighters, David and Peter, entered the cage, and I watched more of the same. David was declared the winner, again on points. I wanted to see a knockout. My thirst for blood was being quenched, but my hunger for new skills rumbled on unsatisfied.

When the MC announced a short break, Jim offered to introduce me to one of the women he knew would be there.

We approached a group of three women I hadn’t seen outside. It was actually a bit of a relief to have some female company. Unlike the women I’d seen outside in next to nothing, these ladies were dressed more like me and looked completely at ease in this environment.

“Michelle,” Jim interrupted their conversation. A very attractive woman, I guessed to be in her early forties, turned and smiled. “This is Jules, the girl I was telling you about who kicks all the guys’ butts at the track.”

Michelle threw her arms around me, laughing. “Jules. I’ve heard so much about you.” Leaving her arm around my shoulder, she introduced me to her friends, Barb and Lynn.

“You okay here, Jules?” Jim asked.

“Absolutely,” I replied. “Thank you.”

Jim sauntered off, probably to find Shorty and his other mates. I knew he felt protective over me, so I was glad to give him a break.

“So, Jules,” Barb started. “How are you enjoying it so far? Bit much?”

“Oh my God, no. I love it. I was actually hoping to see some hard core decimation if I’m honest. You know?” I punched my right fist into my left palm. “Someone really taking control and smashing someone.” My enthusiastic reply elicited more laughing from the group.

“You’ll fit right in here, love,” Lynn said, raising her eyebrows and glancing over towards the cage. “I think you’ll really enjoy the next fight. I believe Leo is up next.”

The three women noticeably swooned at the mention of Leo’s name.

“Who’s Leo?” I asked, naturally intrigued.

Barb smirked. “Other than being smoking hot, his name definitely suits him,” she said seductively. “He’s untouchable and undefeated—always takes the lion’s share of prize money. I wouldn’t mind if he wanted to take me too, if you know what I mean.” She winked, and they all laughed and nodded their heads in agreement.

“Not everyone enjoys his style though,” Michelle said. “And obviously most men don’t have the same appreciation for his appearance.”

“Why wouldn’t anyone appreciate his style?” I asked.

“It’s over too quickly. No one stands a chance against him,” she explained.

“Well, I can’t wait. Sounds like he has awesome skill.”

“Unlimited will always overcomes skill,” Michelle stated in a sing-song deep voice. “That’s what my husband says, anyway.”

“Who’s your husband?” I asked, smiling.

“The ginger ninja from the first fight.” She flicked her hand up towards the cage.

“Oh okay.” I nodded my head, recalling his victory over Romper Stomper. “He deserved the win, I thought.”

“Thanks.” She smiled warmly. “Speaking of which, I really should go check on him, make sure he’s okay. He took a few nasty blows.”

“Do you ever get used to watching your husband up there?” I asked, wondering how I would feel if someone I loved were in the cage. The fact that I had no one to compare that to spoke volumes about my feelings for Richard.

“Yes and no.” She cocked her head from side to side and contemplated her answer for a few seconds. “Adam needs this. He didn’t have a great childhood and he has a criminal record from some of the trouble he got into when he left school. He has the skills to go pro, but this is where he wants to be. This is where he feels at home.”

“Has he ever gotten seriously injured?”

“He has.” Her eyes cast downward, obviously struck with painful memories. “Fortunately there are several doctors who are keen supporters of the sport and are willing to be on standby. Without insurance, it’s high risk for them, so we’re lucky to have their support. It helps knowing they’re here.”

“It was really nice to meet you, Michelle.” We embraced, and then she pushed her way through the crowd and disappeared.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked, turning back to Barb and Lynn.

“I’ll come with you,” Barb said. “I need to go too.”

After saying goodbye to Lynn, I followed Barb towards the other side of the warehouse, through a heavy white door and into a hallway where we found the facilities. After I relieved my suffering bladder, I glanced in the mirror as I washed my hands. Even I could acknowledge the fire burning in my eyes. I felt more energised than ever before and knew this night was going to be life changing. It already had been.

When we returned to the warehouse, we quickly realised the next fight was about to begin, and the massive crowd was going to make it hard to resume my original cageside position.

“I can’t believe I nearly missed the start.”

“Go get a closer look, Jules,” Barb encouraged. “Push your way through to the front. Watch out for Leo’s groupies though.” She clenched her teeth. “Those women are fierce.”

“Are you going to come with me?”

“The blonde guy up there in the cage with Leo is my husband,” she replied, shrugging. “It’ll be over soon and I’ll have to see if he needs me to take him to the hospital.”

“Oh.” I suddenly felt awkward being so excited to see the man who she fully expected to crush her husband. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “He knows the score. He’ll be fine. Will you be okay?”

“I can see Jim up at the front. I’ll elbow my way through to him.”

We embraced quickly and both said, “See you next time.”

Before I made it to Jim, the fighters entered the cage. The blonde I knew to be Barb’s husband, so Leo had to be the one with his back to me—a back that made my whole body hum with electric desire. He had two tattoos that I could see. At the nape of his neck was a geometric design with nine spires shooting out from oval shapes. Below that, were two powerful and intimidating tigers. I’d never thought too much about tattoos, but at that moment, I was thinking of little else.

By the time I made it to Jim, cageside, they had tapped fists and were starting their dance around the cage.

“Oh hey, Jules.” Jim ushered me in beside him, and I reefed my eyes away from Leo against their will. “You nearly missed Leo’s fight. Just wait. This guy’s a fucking lunatic.”

“So I’ve heard.” I hoped the heat I felt burning my cheeks wasn’t too obvious. I hadn’t yet gotten a proper look at him, but his presence was overwhelming. Even my inexperienced eyes could tell his opponent stood no chance whatsoever. Fear was clearly evident in his eyes and body language.

Leo moved like a predator around the cage, circling his terrified prey. Barb’s husband, a relatively small guy, was already in defensive mode and was probably just hoping it would be over soon. To his credit, he attacked first in a scrappy blur of punches and kicks, expending a huge amount of adrenaline-fuelled energy on his fruitless endeavour. Leo blocked every single one effortlessly before going in with a series of killer blows that were both unexpected and clearly strategic. I was awestruck, rendered mute by the incredible display of brute strength that seemed to come from somewhere deep within. He was a man possessed by something dark and primal and, for reasons I couldn’t explain even to myself, I felt a magnetic pull towards him.

The crowd cheered and shouted in appreciation or frustration. It was impossible to tell the difference. I looked at Jim, dumbstruck.

“I told you.” He shook his head and chuckled to himself. “Fucking lunatic.”

The next fight was evenly matched, and a tall Asian guy with metal teeth named Jeff won on points. When another break was called, I refused to budge from my spot. There was no way I was going to risk missing a second for the rest of the night.

“So the next two fights will determine who’s in the final.”

“My money’s on Cheryl’s husband and Leo.”

“Leo’s a sure bet, and I think you’re probably right about Cheryl’s old man. You’ve got a good eye, Jules.”

Sure enough, the next two fights we watched saw the ginger ninja and Leo claim a spot in the final. I was worried for Cheryl but thrilled for Leo. He had held little back in his two fights, but I had a feeling he would unleash the beast for the ultimate win.

When the time finally came, the fight that unfolded was like nothing I could’ve conjured up in my very vivid imagination. Leo, in Jim’s words, was a fucking lunatic, and I was a puddle of desire, anguish and unfulfilled need. Ginger gave it his all, and Leo certainly didn’t get the easy win he had in his two previous fights. There was, however, one clear dominating force, and Leo was declared the ultimate winner.

He showed little emotion while the referee raised his hand, and within moments, he exited the cage, barely acknowledging the referee, officials or the chanting crowds.

“Hey, Leo!” a voice from the crowd shouted.

My eyes were fixated on the retreating figure, and I was surprised to see that he stopped but didn’t immediately turn around.

“Ya fight like ya mummy!”

The crowd had gone silent, which was odd given I’d have thought those types of goads were not unusual. When he did turn around, I immediately felt intimidated and small, overcome by the power of his icy stare. Shirtless, his tanned torso, just like his beautiful back, was a powerful mass of sculpted muscles, slick with sweat. His dark hair was short but still had a sexy, tousled look. He strode back across the cage until he was only a few feet from me. Striking blue eyes scanned the audience a few times before coming to rest on mine.

I felt shockwaves pulsing through my body and rocking my core. It was unlike anything I’d experienced, and it was a life-altering rush. His cold expression remained unchanged and he said nothing. After what felt like minutes, but was more likely a few seconds, he turned and disappeared.

The noise level in the warehouse stayed low for a few minutes. Hushed whispers soon became excited cheers before the crowd started to dissipate. I just stood there motionless and unsure of what had just happened. Had he actually seen me? It felt like he was looking straight at me, but perhaps that’s how everyone in the room felt with his overwhelming presence. Monthly fight nights had become my third guilty pleasure, and the thoughts running through my head felt like the ultimate sin.

I got back to my apartment around four in the morning, buzzing with excitement. Sleep came quickly. Images of a six-foot-something, muscular Adonis conquering his unworthy opponents flooded my brain, making my body relax with a smile.