Hook'd (4 page)

Cam threw punches against the mitts. His feet dancing around the ring, he followed the rhythm of his trainer, Leo, who caught each punch he threw. Cam hit with speed and accuracy. He counter punched. Jabbed. Bobbed and weaved.  Landing each technique perfectly.

"Alright, time," his assistant trainer, Nelson stopped time on the watch.

Cam leaned over the ropes, heaving out rapid breaths. Sweat dripped from his skin profusely like a streaming river. His muscles ached so much, he barely had enough strength to stand. That 5 hour work out session burnt him out.

"Good work. Even better this time." Leo patted his back.

It relieved him to hear that. It felt so long since he got to train. With such a hectic schedule filled with nothing but press conferences, interviews, and charity events, he hadn't gotten the chance to work on his boxing. It had been only a week and he felt so out of shape. He was used to working out every day, to now barely doing any at all. He was determined to get himself back up to speed though. Despite the fact that his license was still suspended which canceled any prospects of upcoming fights within the next year, he wouldn't let that deter him. He had to keep fighting no matter what.

Cam took gulps of his refreshing protein shake, before drying his face off with the towel as he sat on the bleachers to rest.

The sudden ring caught his attention, and he dug in his duffel bag for his phone. He glanced at the screen to see he was receiving a
Facetime
call and answered.

His longtime friend, Vance appeared on the screen and he smiled.

"What's good, bruh?" Cam greeted.

"What’s up, man? It's been a minute."

"I know. Look like you just woke up, nigga."

The way he was slouched on the couch smoking on a spliff, dressed in a crumpled T, with a du-rag on his head, he would've sworn he just rolled out of bed.

"Shit, I'm at home chillin'. What you up to?"

"Here at the gym, putting in work."

"Oh I see. Tryna get ya Ali on, huh."

"A lil' bit." He smirked.

"That's whatsup. How's things been going though? Every time I see you, you on the news, bruh," Vance said lightly, causing Cam to scoff in annoyance.

"You don't even know the half. The shit I gotta go through man..." Cam shook his head.

"Don't even worry about it. You know the media's always gonna try to tear you down 'cause you're great. That's what they all do. Don't let none of that shit break you," Vance advised.

"Nah, I won't. Aye, whatchu doing tonight?" he asked, at the sudden thought.

"Nothing, why?"

"Alright, good. We're going out."

*

Cam relaxed in the white suede seat, vibing along to the ol' school sounds of Method Man's,
All I Need
, as he blew out clouds of smoke from his Cuban cigar. The purple lighting within the darkened vicinity enhanced the relaxing ambiance, the type of atmosphere he needed at the particular moment. He wasn't in the mood to party. Tonight, he just wanted to kickback and catch up with his boy.

He took Vance to an exclusive lounge in Harlem, one of his favorite places to hang out in the city. Filled with nothing but beautiful women, good music, and an all-around airy vibe, it was far from Hollywood. Much more low-key. What he liked most, was that he didn't have to worry about being hounded by everyone fawning to get his attention. Instead, people minded their business and enjoyed themselves without a care in the world. And he loved it. Right now, he needed that.

"Bet you haven't done this in a while, huh?" Cam joked.

"Nah." Vance blew out clouds of smoke. "My ass gettin' too old for this shit."

"Granddaddy Vance."

"Fuck you."

They both laughed.

Cam nodded, staring down at his cigar. "Yeah, I felt like it was just yesterday, we was youngins' playing ball at the center."

"Yeah, and I used to bust ya ass too."

"What? When?"

"Whatchu mean, when? All the time!"

Cam laughed at the fond memory. The good ol’ days. He first met Vance at the local community center in their South Bronx neighborhood, when he was just a mere teenager. Back then, Vance was heavily involved in the programs, even serving as a mentor for many of the youth there. Although Vance was just a few years older, he always had a leadership quality about him that he admired. For a person at such a young age to teach by example, instead of running the streets like many of his peers, was commendable. It didn't surprise him that over a decade later, he became the Executive Director of that very same place. He was proud of him.

"How's the center going?" Cam asked.

"To be honest, not too good. The city's tryna tear it down."

"What?" He frowned.

"Yeah. They wanna build a coffee shop or some shit. Like why the hell we need a damn coffee shop in the hood? I swear man..." He shook his head, taking a pull of his cigar.

"Damn."

The news disheartened him. He loved that place. Having lived in group homes throughout his childhood with no sense of guidance, the recreational center had been a safe haven for him, the very place he developed his love for boxing. The center saved him. And for that, he would always appreciate it. He would hate to see it go.

"That's that gentrification bullshit for you," Vance spewed.

"True."

Over the years, he'd seen the city get rid of so many places in the neighborhood and redevelop them into useless businesses. Now this.

Fuck gentrification.

"Aye, whatever it is I could do, let me know. If that means setting up some more charity events, or donating more money, I'll do it. I'd be glad to help," Cam assured him.

Vance nodded. "Thanks, man."

"Anyway, we're not even gonna stress about that right now. We're here. We just gonna sit back, chill, and have a good time tonight. Feel me?"

"Definitely."

"And I would say let's bring some hoes over here, but I know Zara would beat your ass so I'm a just leave that alone," he joked in reference to his girlfriend.

Vance smirked, nodding. "Yeah, you got jokes."

Cam paused when someone caught his eye. He squinted, wondering if it was just his imagination. There was no way she was here. Small fucking world.  After what occurred last week, the sight of her should've repulsed him. But it didn't. Instead, her beauty enticed him. Just as it did the first time he laid eyes on her. There she stood at the entrance, her presence drawing him in like a luminous light in the room.

Damn…

She almost looked like a model, with her hair styled into a short spiked cut, bringing out her exotic features. He had never been fond of women with short hair. He always thought it made a woman look manly, for some reason.  But not this one. The short look definitely did her justice.

Her heart shaped face entailed with deep set of sienna eyes, that complimented well with her glowing cinnamon hued skin, her small button nose, and those full thick lips, he was sure would fit perfectly well over his dick. His crotch tightened at the mere thought. His gaze fell to her body. He lifted a brow at her unfitting attire. She looked like she had just stumbled in from work. Dressed in her white blouse, black knee length skirt, and her heels, he figured she had wandered into the wrong place. But even so, that didn’t stop him from admiring that luscious body of hers. From those ample breasts, slim waist and long thick legs, tantalizing his senses the more he stared. And he could only imagine twisting that body in so many different positions until she—

A tap on his arm snapped him out of his trance.

"You drooling, bruh," Vance joked.

"Yo, you know that's the same chick I was fighting with at the restaurant, the other day?"

"You mean the brown skinned shorty walking over to the bar?"

"Yeah."

"Her? Damn, she's a bad one," he complimented.

She was, indeed. He took a sip of his drink, watching her as she sat by her lonesome. He wondered why she wasn't with anybody. Stuck up bitch probably didn't have any friends. Or a man.

Definitely no man.

He could already tell she wasn't getting any. Walking around, talking down to him like she was so high and mighty. Bitter ass. She was probably one of them strong, independent types who felt they didn't need a man.

The thought made him grin.

Any woman, no matter who she was, could be broken down with just the right dick. He knew that much.

He would take care of that soon, though.

"Aye, I'm a be back." Cam stood up.

"Oh okay, I see you. Do ya thing, bruh," Vance teased, also getting up. "And while you go do that, I'm gonna head out."

"Already?"

"Yeah, I gotta get some sleep. Gotta early meeting tomorrow."

"Alright Gramps, don't hurt ya back on the way out." He nudged him with a grin.

Vance pointed to him. "I'm a beat ya ass, keep playing."

"See me in the ring then."

"Name the time and place."

"Anytime, man. Anytime."

They laughed and gave each other daps. It was great hanging out with his boy again. It had been so long. Cam promised to see him again soon. After they said their goodbyes, Vance left.

*

Reese sat around the bar, taking a much needed sip of her strawberry Mojito drink. After a long stressful day, she needed something to take the edge off. Just this evening, she had gotten the painful news that a woman who had once stayed at the shelter, had gone back to her abuser only to end up murdered. Stories like this truly broke her spirit. She never knew the woman personally, but it still pained her just the same. Throughout the years, she worked so hard in opening the doors for battered women, vying with every bone in her body to save as many women as she could. But times like these, only reminded her that she couldn't save everybody. She just couldn't.

Right about now, she should've been at home curled in her bed. But even that wouldn't suffice. The sudden thought of being home alone didn't comfort her as much as it should've.

So, here she was.

At this point, she didn't care that she looked a worn out mess. She didn't come here to see anybody. Or have fun. She came here to keep her mind from racing. Even if that meant drowning out her sorrows with a drink, while listening to the some upbeat rap music.

"So, you stalking me now?"

She turned her head, only to grimace at his presence.

"God..." She turned away.

This couldn't be happening. Out of all places. All people to see. Had to be this asshole.

"Damn baby, you would've thought I had a disease or something."

"You probably do."

"Oh, that was cold."

She glared at him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you that." He leaned his elbow against the bar. "Aren't you in the wrong side of town?"

"Actually, I'm not. For your information, this is my town."

"Oh, really now?"

"Yes, really."

"Where are you from?"

"Harlem"

"Harlem, huh. That's a surprise. I would'a pegged you as more of a valley girl..." He scoped her frame. "Actually nah, come to think of it. After the way you cussed my ass out the other day, I could definitely see the Harlem in you."

"Ugh. Just get away from me."

His presence literally made her sick. And especially after the way he humiliated her in public for the world to see, he could drop dead for all she cared.

"Why, you waiting for somebody?"

"Actually, I am."

"Who?"

"My date," she lied.

"Date, huh? So, who's the lucky man?"

"Thankfully not you."

He laughed, showcasing those pearly white teeth that looked so annoyingly gorgeous against his dark brown skin.

"Trust me baby. If you were my date, I'd take you somewhere even better than this."

"Well, I guess we'll never find out, now would we?" she shot back.

Without a word, he stared at her. His dark coffee eyes gripping hers like clenching fists, grasping pieces of her breath in the process. His stare was so...intense. Frustrated, she rolled her eyes.

"Look, I had a stressful day. And I'm not in the mood. So if you could just leave me—"

"We could if you want."

"What?" she said, confused.

"We could go on a date if you want to."

She chuckled. "Are you joking?"

"Does it look like I am?"

He didn't. And that shocked her.

"There's no way in hell I'd ever go on a date with you."

"And why not?"