Protect & Serve(106)

I shuffled in behind him as he flipped on the bank of florescent lights. Inside was a massive open room full of neatly spaced equipment. The floor ran from wall-to-wall with thick blue mats. On the perimeter, there were punching bags spaced at about twenty foot intervals. In the far corner was a huge platform, sort of like a boxing ring, but with a cage around it.

“That’s like those things on tv,” I said. “You know, where the guys fight… it’s a boxing thing, right?”

“That’s the octagon,” he said. “An eight-sided fighting platform inside of a cage.”

“Do people who come here actually do that?” I asked.

“Only the crazy ones,” he said as he used one arm to yank his shirt off over his head. “I’ll be right back. Phone is in the corner. Police aren’t worth a shit on this side of the city but maybe they’ll get something done if you make a report. You get a good look at either of the assholes?”

“I guess,” I whispered, wishing his face was clearer in my mind. All I could think of was the shining blade in his hand, or the way he’d grinned at me… And I hadn’t gotten so much as a glimpse at the man who tried to hit me with the damn car.

Luke disappeared down a hallway off the main entrance without waiting for my response. I don’t know that I could have said much anyway. I was too mesmerized by the view from behind as he strolled away.

This place was absolutely enormous. As I waited for him to return, I made my way over to the cage in the corner. There were blood stains on the canvassed floor that looked like they had accumulated over years of use. I tried to imagine the mentality someone would have to have to climb into one of these things to fight another person. He was right, you’d have to be crazy.

I found the old phone wired up to the wall and made the call. A bored sounding woman on the other side of the line took all the details I could remember. The type of car, color, a basic description of my attacker… I asked if they were going to send out a detective, but she made it clear they were all tied up tonight on a triple homicide. If I wanted to make a more formal report, I’d need to go down to the station tomorrow…

I hung up the phone more than a little disappointed, just in time to see Luke emerge from the back of the Gym.

“Was wondering how long that was gonna take you. Let’s go darlin’. People wait for me, I don’t wait for them,” he yelled from across the gym, a crooked smile on his face.

That was kind of assholish, I thought. Men don’t usually talk to me like that. But what could I say about it? The guy was an absolute Adonis. He probably gets away with talking to people like that all the time. Not to mention the fact that he just saved me from that disgusting pig. I guess I’d have to be okay with letting it slide.

Luke rolled his shoulders and turned his head to the left, stretching out his sinewy muscles. Then he made his way across the gym.

“So… What do you think about my gym?” he asked, nodding toward the cage.

“I think it looks a lot like a torture chamber,” I said, pointedly.

“I guess it is… But a little torture never hurt anybody,” he said, laughing.

“Just seems like a rough way to make a living,” I replied, staring back at the cage.

Luke seemed to bristle at the comment. “C’mon, let’s go sweetie. The tour’s over. Gotta get you home for the late show.”

We walked together back into the night. With the alarm set and the building secure we headed for his car. I expected an oversized truck with huge wheels but what I saw was a bit more impressive. Luke drove a sleek, silver Maserati. It was a beautiful sports car, fitting of his general appearance. His gym must be doing well if this is what brings him to work every day.

“Hop in,” he said, opening the door and guiding me toward the seat. The car smelled like new leather and it carried a slight hint of whatever cologne he wore. It was something I recognized, but couldn’t quite nail down. It was a good brand, not the in-your-face expensive stuff that a lot of guys with money wore.

“I like your car,” I said, with a little too much flirt in my voice. I regretted it immediately. It sounded like something a smitten teenager would say to her crush.

“Yeah,” he replied. “It’s fun… Tell me again how you ended up with that freak in the alley?”

I swear it looked like he was trying to sneak a peek down the front of my torn shirt. His eyes must have been just a tick faster than mine though, because I couldn’t catch him.

“I was just walking home… I don’t know. I think he started stalking me when my friend dropped me off at the gas station for eggs.”