Wench With Wings (3 page)

She jumped down and took her stance, closed her eyes and felt the first two fights. She could tell who landed what punch and when, who swung a kick and how. She felt the whispers of movement on a breeze that wasn’t present but was her surrender.
Then she marveled as she walked out to the ring, this was her home, her sacred place that no one could destroy, no one could conquer, it was her and she would stand tall protecting her claim.

It’s that first second that she looks into the eyes of her opponent that you realize she’s looking to see the reason they fight. She knows that if they have a reason of love involved it will be harder to beat them. When she notices that it’s just for the fame and the money she smirks and everyone knows why she does it; she sees the ease of the beating. More than 9/10
th's
of her opponents are the ‘need money and fame’ type and she revels in it. She lets the smirk falter and throws on her game face, slipping into ‘destroy mode.’

The man in front of her is taller by more than a foot, and weights a good hundred pounds more than her one twenty weight. None of that even matters to her. To her; it’s all about that first strike they take. It answers two questions for her; how fast they are and how smart they are. She’s both. She waits for him to make the first leap just like a frog and she’s gone as fast as a fly trying to survive the death bite. She might be a lot of things but one thing is for sure;
she's a survivor, a healer. She don’t take the fights for money though it is a plus. The amount she brings in, in ten minutes is a full time job and that full time job just won’t fit into her schedule or pay for her place. She don’t need the extravagance the fights get her, she knows just how to live without it; she did her whole life. She certainly don’t do it for the fame; it’s the pain she truly does it for. The pain that caused her to want to give the pain away. The pain that caused her to want to be in control and when she fights she is in complete control. Oh yea and hurting a man was always what the doctor order for her because when she was done she was on a divine high, but while she was in the act she was in a touch of her kind of heaven. Beating someone’s ass would be an evil, but not to her. Her hell was the every other second thought of her life before she took control and started to fight. The reminder she carries well to stay in control. And right know that jerk boy from the shop was messing with it so she held the reminder even closer.

She knew as well as everyone else that she bumped the guy in front of her up the line to fight her, he had two more fights before her but she knew he would win them both so why put off the inevitable. The only fall back was she didn’t want anyone to see weakness and if they knew why she did it they would see it and that she could not have. This would be the only show she would give.

He swung, she back flipped and when her hands landed on the floor her left foot landed an upper cut to his chin. He fell back, braced and shot himself back up. She knew this wasn’t gonna be an easy fight. She’s been watching him massacre every opponent but she was ready! Tonight would be the night for a true fair fight. He came barreling at her, shoulder ready to pumble into her. She let him drop her to the ground to get the fuel for the fire she needed from the pain of it, lifting her knees and jamming into him, lifting him over her, landing on him and settled on straddling him, a jerk with her hips, riding a swift beat against his junk, jamming him with a left to his cheek bone, a right to his jaw bone and an elbow to his nose. She waggled on him silently torturing, “Come on, baby!” Than hopped up with an easy stance to his staggered one. He shook himself and she smirked thinking she had him right where she wanted him; up and ready for some more. She toyed with him, taunting him and avoiding him. He charged, she used his force to swing him past her, he hit the ground rolled and popped up. Figuring she was done and just needing a quick end to this game she loved, she charged him for the first time to his surprise. She hopped up off the ground using not only the momentum of the run but that of the fall as well to land her fist right on his nose. She felt the bones break, heard them crack, watched the display of sprayed blood and knew that this one she wasn’t gonna take home. She never went as far as to break someone bones but she wanted to send that boy that walked into her shop all confidant, into oblivion. He did have her frustrated, yes, sexually frustrated too, just not with the ass she just beat though. She waited for him to get up from the knock out then she grabbed a hold of his hand to help him up just like she did with every other man she beat but instead of whispering “meet me by my shop,” she whispered, “good fight.” He talked back unlike any other one, “You had more of a reason behind your strength tonight. You would not have beat me without it. I want a rematch.”

“Honny, you’re strong just not strong enough, even without an extra reason to motivate me. I’ll prove it to you.” She smirked with a half laugh in his face.

She didn’t even bother with the closing entertained words or to collect her money. She text Jocelyn and Gwen to do so and shifted into ‘escape mode,' running back to her apartment. He did land a couple few good knocks, ones that normally she wouldn’t have endured, she was fast at avoidance, just not tonight. She needed the fight and the pain to heal her uncontrolled state. She sure did give the crowd her best show yet, though.

She went to the freezer, grabbed her bottle of Jack and a joint already rolled off the table in the living room. She would only smoke on fight nights. Then she strolled out to the deck, clicked on the hot tub, flipped the cover off and stripped. That poor boy she just beat would have had this as a start to recovery
, but she needed the loneliness more.

What was it about that boy
that came into her shop that had her not in control? She always had it and for the first time in a long time she lost it and the why she needed to figure out. So what better way, she thought by the end of the two hours in the hot tub, other than to be alone with him tomorrow to figure him out and give him what he asked for; no more eyes but yet she would not give him the satisfaction of thinking he was right, she won’t want him; she won’t touch him other than with the gun. He’ll think differently when he first walks in to no one there but when she’s done she will be the one who won. Nothing like getting a man’s hopes up for nothing, she’d have him under her control in no time, she thought deviously. Satisfied with her plan, she slipped out of the hot tub and into her bed, his eyes where the last thing she saw before sleep took her under.

Oh! Rattled; rattled he was. You could even say so badly it scrambled his brain. He could barely think of anything other than of the sight of her deep brown eyes that turned completely black at the sight of his arousal. ‘Was it that sight or something else?” He thought. Oh, he hoped it was that something else but how could it be? What women would get turned on at being trash talked than hearing his relief of the pain and want him the way she showed it in her eyes? None of it made since to him. How could it be possible, she’d have to be completely off her rocker to be like him. But
damn did he want her and he also wanted to find his place to take a cold shower but he must have taken to many wrong turns. Pulling out his phone he dialed up Dane’s number and asked, “Dude where the hell am I and how do I get to a damn cold shower?”

“Hold on. I’ll check. Seriously, jackass? Take a right were five houses down. Wow man, what’s got you all fucked up not to notice
you're that close to home?” He just hung up, what was there to explain when obviously he himself didn’t have a clue. ‘I must be lost and no not just literally.’ He breathed out with a sigh of exhaustion. He rounded the corner and there she was running down the street doing the most mesmerizing things he couldn’t even imagine. ‘Beautiful,’ he breathed. He went to catch up with her, maybe even to follower her, he had no clue but his feet were firmly planted in disbelief, the roots of need wrapped around his ankles and held him in place, shocked that he had no clue really who this girl was but he felt the need to hold her so strongly it made his heart literally flutter like the wing she just tattoo on his shoulder.

Insanely he had to have his tat finished, he even said it to her, he had to have only her finish it. It’d be her to do it, he thought, The Wench With Wings it fit her perfect. And the tats on him finally had meaning again. The Wrench symbolizing her fixing him, she had to. She’d be his angel
, only naming it Wench because she was a facetious young women.

Finally able to move again he booked it to his front door, flung it open and ran to the shower. First things first; cold shower to strip her heat away, next; to his room to finish what was hers. Ignoring Dane’s questions he slammed the door shut and went to his desk to redraw his Wench With Wings. The outline was complete, so that he could not change but the inside he could. He weaved the words ‘Wench With Wings’ throughout the inside of them. Satisfied it looked almost perfect he sighed with
delight, but there was one thing still missing. He would bring it to her tomorrow and ask her to sign her name somewhere within, making an excuse that all artist should sign their work. Knowing it was really to represent her, made him smile a true smile, one he has not had in quite some time. Images of her running and doing what she did literally danced in his head and he laughed out loud thinking of it that way, the way he said she would have him in her head. He was going to have fun with this woman.

He stood up dropped the towel that was around his waist and dressed in sweats and a tee. He threw his running sneakers on and ran out of the apartment. If he was going to be this guy he pictured in his head for her than he needed to be as good as she. He ran, tried flipping off a car and crashed. “Man this is gonna be harder than what she made it out to be,” he said to himself out loud as he shook his head in disbelief. What was this chic gonna do to him? Two hours he work himself to the bone, literally. The amount of scrapes and bruises on him were worse than any fight he’s been in lately. The pain they caused was sweet surrender. It was the best pain he had ever felt, other
than when she tattooed him and touched him earlier. He got back to his place, opted for a hot shower instead of a cold one than dropped to his bed with a joyful sigh. Than a thought crossed his mind ripping his joy away. 'What if she throws you away dip shit?' He huffed and closed his eyes. The sight of hers were the last thing he saw before the darkness descended and took his heart.

***

Chapter Two
:

Interruption
Of One’s Life

The sun streaming in threw the window and spreading across her blankets reminded her of when his stone eyes lit up with a touch of sunlight. They were mesmerizing, and told no lies. All the other guys that looked into her eyes feared her yet he did not fear her depths. The fearful ones took a step closer but no one ever jumped. He jumped, willingly. ‘He has to know about my rep,’ she thought, ‘he must have a death wish or he truly is an idiot and didn’t bother to look in my depths.’

Either way she was determined to find out today. She couldn’t manage to jump out of bed like normal, thoughts of him
did
dance in her head interrupting what she should be thinking about in the morning; the same chant she thought about every morning. The one that got her through her day; the one she needed to make her stronger.

He’s the perfect height for her; tall. Taller than her by two foot and that’s the way she liked it; towering over her. He looked scrawny but had muscles. The kind of muscles that turned her on; slightly hidden and most likely deadly. She just wondered if he knew how to use them. What guy is man enough to have a butterfly tattooed on him and be confidant about it?
'At least it hand a wrench for the body' She liked that he was covered in tats; something to trace while she made him fall in love, she thought as she traced the outside of the butterfly unconsciously in her head. ‘Just for one night,’ she thought than, ‘one deadly night. Damn. Goddess. What am I thinking? He’s too dangerous to let fall in love with me for a night. Frig he’s got me turned on just thinking about him.’ She leaped out of bed with that thought. He would not interrupt her control again, she wouldn’t let him. She couldn’t let him.

His first thought as he woke was; ‘I have to have her, every bit of her. I will make her mine tonight.’ He thought about her natural beauty, she wore no makeup and the cloths she had on were not really provocative just revealing enough not to let your mind wonder on the hidden. You couldn’t get past her well-toned legs, her flat muscled stomach and her arms that he wanted wrapped around him in any way. It was her eyes that took control of his more than her body ever did. They told no lies; only backed up her confidence. Even if he made it slip the slightest bit, just for a second, just for him; she did. She caught herself quick and build a wall to not ever fall off the cliff but he would crack it the tiniest, that’s all it would take. Find the weakest point to make in come crashing down; to make it crumble to the ground like she would be when she fell for him. Excited with the thought, he jumped from his bed to ready himself for today; the day he would take her away and make her his.

The ride to school on her Harley did her wonders, cleared her head from the man that invaded her mind. She breezed through her first two classes with a smile. It was a fight, yes, to keep him out but she managed to do so with only a small fight. She is too strong to let one man screw with her mind for long. It took some of her well needed energy so she headed to her spot of shade under a big oak tree on campus to eat her lunch and relax instead of studying or meeting the girls for lunch.