Page 29 of My Undead Heart
“Thank you, Matt.”
“Of course, Mia.”
“Oh, and I had some ideas for your web design, but I need all your hosting info, logins, and anything else you’d like.” I don’t want him to think I won’t hold up my end of the deal. In all honesty, he’s a much better instructor than I imagined and I actually had a good time tonight.
His eyes light with his smile and he points toward a closed door. “I thought you might ask that. I put everything together. Let me grab it from my office.”
I nod as he jogs over and disappears inside the room. Taking the moment to grab a quick drink from the water fountain, I decide to retrieve my phone and send a quick text to Rae and Jared so they won’t worry. With the touch of my thumb the display on my phone lights up and it’s then I notice the late hour. I didn’t even realize how long we were training. “Oh, shit. The time. Shit, shit.” I mumble to myself.
Matt steps to my side, holding out a manila envelope marked FOR MIA and his lips pull with his smirk. “Do you turn into a flesh-eating zombie if you’re not home by midnight?”
“Thanks.” I take the folder and tuck it inside my bag. “No, but I did miss my train and the next one isn’t for another hour.”
“Let me take you home. Where’s your place?” he says matter of factly.
“In Irving Park. But you don’t have to do that. I’ll just bus it.”
“And get home in another hour? That’s silly considering I have to drive home anyway.”
“It’s not too far out of the way for you?”
“Not at all. Give me fifteen minutes. I’ve got to change and shut this place up.”
“Thanks, Matt. You really don’t have to—”
“Enough. I want to, okay?” He doesn’t leave me room to argue, just grabs a backpack from behind the counter and flips a few lights off along the way. The streetlights from outside illuminate the gym while the heavy bags, cage, and other equipment cast shadows across the room. It transforms this ordinary space to almost that of a thriller film with the mere touch of a switch.
“I’ll just be a minute,” he says and points to a hallway at the back corner. “Meet you by the back door. That’s the only part that’s lit once I flip the last of the lights off.”
Nodding my agreement, I head over to the vacant hallway while Matt ducks inside the men’s locker room. I pull on my boots and hoodie, then strap my bag over one shoulder to wait. Boredom and a little curiosity lead me to study the framed photos on the wall; a dollar bill along with a ribbon cutting photo, newspaper clippings with Matt’s name in the headlines, and a ton of action photographs, too. The fighting photos aren’t all that pretty, blood and sweat often covering the fighters’ faces. Something in one of the photos draws me closer. It’s the expression on the young man’s face—exhaustion as if he’s been put through the worst kind of battle. But also a look of drive or even stubborn will, as if he’s still not giving up. Wait a second ...
“You ready to go, Mia?” Matt’s voice startles me.
“That’s you!” I point at the photo on the wall. Without the scruff and long hair, I didn’t recognize him immediately, but now I realize most of these photos are him. “These are all you. Did you fight or something?”
He attempts a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Something.” He nods to the door and I follow him out, only pausing a moment for him to push a few buttons and set the alarm.
“Were you any good?”
He shrugs, stepping out into the night with me. It’s nearing midnight but the city is still alive with the muted bustle of traffic, music, and occasional voices from beyond this alley. My shorter legs work to keep up with his stride as I follow him to his car. There’s something about the stiff movements of his body that spark intrigue.
“I held my own. Until I didn’t. There’s no long game in fighting, at least not for most. You’re on top until you aren’t any more. That’s why I have this place.” He stops short.
“Wait. Youownthis gym?” I don’t know why I never considered it before.
“Yeah. What did you think? I borrowed it?” His chuckle comes easily and leaves little goosebumps across my flesh. He tilts his head to meet my stare. “Let me guess. You thought because I was working the door at some dive bar, I couldn’t possibly own my own business, or be retired from my previous career.”
Well, yeah, but I’m not going to admit to that. At least not without a little fun. “No, I thought you didn’t own the gym because your beard gives off the vibe that you’re homeless, and your lame pickup lines allude to the fact you don’t know what you’re doing in life.” The words come out coated in my usual snark and my eyes widen as I slap my hand over my mouth.
Matt’s booming laughter fills the night air and he shakes his head. “I guess I deserve that.”
“You could shower more? Read books?” I offer in a teasing tone and he laughs again. Despite the cool night air my body warms with the sound. He has a great laugh and offers it readily.
“Nah, I’m good.” His smile lingers as he shakes his head.
“With people assuming you’re homeless?”
“No. Underestimating me. Makes it all the sweeter when I prove ’em wrong.” He nods toward a motorcycle parked in the corner. “You ready to ride?”
