Page 70 of A Fighter’s Love

Dale stood and turned.

Mohawk had jumped into the ring. He grabbed Dale’s arm and raised it up. “Let’s hear it for the winner.”

Dale grinned.

Jackson clapped.

The crowd cheered.

Jenny turned away. She’d had enough of the gym for one night.

After finishing up several jobs in the office, in preparation for Friday’s fight, she gathered up her things and headed out. The gym had returned to normality with the weights in use and two guys whose names she couldn’t recall sparring with Michael looking on.

Billy was nowhere to be seen.

Neither were Dale and Jackson.

The sky was darkening as she stepped out onto the street and there was a chill in the air.

Beep. Beep.

She turned at the sound loud car horn.

Dale’s van was parked on double yellow lines. Jackson had the window down and was waving at her. “Over here.”

She smiled and hurried their way.

Jackson leaped out and opened the door. “Dale’s requested pizza. Fighter gets to pick the takeout.”

“Okay,” she said, sliding onto the seat and sending several empty crisp packets to the footwell. “Sounds good to me.”

“Not quite as fancy as your cooking, babe, but I need the carbs.” Dale grinned at her. He had a small white steri-strip over his eyebrow and his cheek was a colorful shade of mauve spreading to pink. He revved the engine and edged out into the traffic.

Jenny sat back and Jackson rested his hand on her thigh. He gave it a squeeze as if acknowledging it had been a rough evening for her. She was glad he, like Dale, was big and tough. She was also glad he had a soft side that understood her.

Soon they were in Dale’s apartment. The island was covered in pizza boxes, the air was filled with the scent of garlic bread, and three beers had just had their lids popped.

Jenny tucked into a slice of pepperoni enjoying the spice and the gooey cheese.

After a few minutes of eating in silence, she spoke. “He told me.”

“Who told you what?” Jackson asked.

Dale looked at her quizzically.

“Billy. After the fight. He said the best man had won and now he accepted it was over between us.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Jackson said, looking at Dale.

“Yeah, stubborn bastard, though, don’t you think?”

Jackson grunted and bit into a slice of garlic bread. Crumbs scattered over the granite.

“I hope he means it,” Jenny went on. “I can’t cope with him turning up at my work again.”

“He did what?” Jackson slammed the garlic bread down. “Of all the…”

“It’s okay.” Jenny held up her hand. “Really, it’s done. Finished.”

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