Available Soon! The Bolo Dance is a Sports Romance with flare. Here’s Chapter 2.
📔📔📔📔
I stormed off and ducked into the women’s bathroom before anyone could grab me. Hiding behind the first stall I came too, willing myself not to cry. Locking it and sitting on the toilet as I rocked back and forth. The hood of my silk robe pulled down over my head. Crying into my aching and bruised hands. Only to choke on the sobs when I hear the door opening.
“You’re an idiot,” Farmer’s voice echoed off the walls of the bathroom like an announcer in the ring. I could hear his hard strides across the floor. Smacking my lips, as I braced my foot against the door so he wouldn’t open it. He tried to push on it, but I pushed back. Exhaling loudly, he gave up and walked back towards the sink.
“This is the woman’s bathroom.”
“I noticed. Just like I noticed that you ain’t pissin’ right now. What’s going through your head hittin’ that guy?”
I wasn’t in the mood to answer any of my trainer’s questions. Even though he was like a family member to me. The only person in the gym that I wished was my real father. Only to feel guilty because it wasn’t like mines was dead. I knew he felt the same way about me though. He wasn’t allowed to see his real daughter. Apparently, his wife was some socialite who had allowed her mother to come between them resulting in there divorce. A man who trained boxers to be violent wasn’t safe around a kid either. So he rarely saw his daughter. That’s why I didn’t put up a fuss when Gideon assigned him as my trainer. Boxing took my free will and it took his marriage. We understood each other better than anyone.
Knowing that he was also Gideon’s right hand, and it was easy enough to figure out where he stood on this issue. That man only cared about money and I put us in a position to have that trifled with. So now Farmer was supposed to get me nice and softened up to kiss ass. But I needed him more and it was starting to make me bitter.
My back stiffened as I grit my teeth. “I’m guessing that Gideon’s pissed?”
Not bothering to look between the crack in the door and the stall out of fear of what I’d see. Staring at the paint peeling on the corner of the door. Except for this small little infraction, this was the cleanest part of the whole building. Indicating that they didn’t get a whole lot of women in this place.
“What do you think? You know what it’s going to take to get this to go away?”
I actually didn’t. My father didn’t allow me to know the ends and outs of what makes this all run. Just enough to sign the contracts and make sure that the right amount of money is rolling in. There was no reason to push it. After all, I only needed to think of my son to remember that we need money.
“This goes beyond a simple fine by the World Boxing Association. Gideon’s going to have to pull in some favors not to get you arrested and potentially banned. You know what that’s going to cost?”
“So this asshole gets to pretend like he can whup my ass and the women’s league is shit.” I kicked the closed door for emphasis. “I taught him a lesson he needed.”
I was only getting angrier despite knowing the truth behind his words. My father wasn’t able to hide the rumors about Gideon beating people up and threatening other’s family members. The man’s reputation preceded him. He did whatever he had to in order to get his way. But my father’s advice always played in my head. My job was to make sure that none of that wind was headed in the direction of me or my son. Everybody else wasn’t my business. I was just supposed to stand upstream from the flame. It was the only good advice dad ever gave me.
However, it dawned on me that standing upstream didn’t mean throwing down debris for others to catch. My guilty conscious reminding me that Dark, Dazzling and Douche wasn’t apart of this world and didn’t need to be exposed to it through a punch in the face. Not that it was an excuse either. Some secretary behind a desk was going to have to lose my paperwork for the fine because she was worried about picking up her kid and him being missing. Or maybe some CEO would buy my head in order to keep me in boxing. I would be working for these people until they spent every drop of blood in my body to make up for it. Farmer was right, I should know better.
“This ain’t just about Gideon, kid. I want to hear from you. What happened?”
I eased my foot off the door. There was no way that I was going to tell him that hearing those words hurt my feelings like a little baby. Even if they had. Farmer wasn’t teaching no baby.
He sighed heavily, accepting my silence as defeat. “Don’t worry about Gideon or that guy. These things work themselves out. You just take a breath and calm down. Don’t hit anyone on the way back to the room.”
Smirking, I get up and unlock the door. “Can we at least agree he deserved it?”
But he didn’t hear me. The door swinging silently in his absence. I walked up to the mirror and splashed some water on my face. Drying off with a harsh brown paper towel. Before taking down my hair. “He was just a jerk. What he said about your profession doesn’t matter? You’re Michelle Nunn. Your skill is second to no one. Don’t be in a bathroom crying like a baby. You got this.”
I didn’t show my face in that changing room until I got it together. Only to walk in on Gideon laughing his ass off with my father. I’m glad someone was having fun. My whole body was aching after that fight and I was emotionally spent. Gideon and Farmer in another corner with their heads together.
“I better go make sure that guy isn’t going to sue. I’d say that you were wrong, but you can’t buy that kind of publicity,” Gideon said, turning to leave.
I wondered if that meant Farmer was wrong and he wasn’t angry. Maybe no one would have to pay for my slip. Except for Dark, Dazzling, and Douche and he deserved it. A nasty personality can sometimes make you look ugly. No one was allowed to disrespect the hard work that I put into my craft, but me. Yet Farmer’s pensive gaze sent me crashing back to reality. Checking me with his gaze.
I groaned, trying to keep it cool as regret really set in. My son should always be my first thought so hitting that douche was still a mistake. With or without the strong hand of Gideon crashing down. A night in jail would be hard to explain to an impressionable eight-year-old. It wasn’t exactly good role modeling either. I cocked my head at Farmer who clearly wanted to say something. “Just go ahead and say it.”
“Since when did you become so damn sensitive? What changed?”
What if I wasn’t even sure.
Smiling a cheeky half-grin, Darren grabbed me around the waist and pulled me towards him. Playing it up for our audience. “That was just a little pint up aggression. People better be ready for my baby and move the hell out of the way.”
“Yeah, that’s nothing new. My daughter knows how to bring down the hammer.”
Darren nuzzled my neck and my hand went instinctively around his head to tangle in his hair. Feeling a tad exposed, with my father in the room. All he needed to see was that we were the perfect couple. I didn’t want to go too far.
“Will talk about this later,” Farmer quipped. “Get to your kid’s event.”
Keith followed him out the door, leaving me alone with Darren and my dad. I turned and gripped the dark grey fur lining of Darren’s leather jacket. Ready to throw out a lifeline for him to take. He just had to grasp it.
“Yeah, good reminder. My son’s debate is tonight. Will you come with me?”
“Baby, I’m going to the after party tonight. Somebody got to celebrate this win of yours.” He grinned. “I’m your representative, remember.”
Another missed shot. I shouldn’t be disappointed, but I am. My heart shouldn’t crumble, but it is. It’s like throwing a fight, you know you’re supposed to lose and still being upset about it. I turned in his arms to ask my father. “How about it dad? Give me a ride?”
He frowned as if he were upset that I even asked. “I was going with Darren. Sweetie, you should have told me this sooner.”
“Yeah, I guess I should’ve.” It didn’t seem worth it to fight over the fact that I had told him two weeks ago.
Darren tapped me on the ass and got up. Halfway to the door before I could blink. “James, we’ve got a car waiting.”
“I’ll catch up,” my dad replied.
I lifted myself onto the table. Quickly throwing off my shoes and socks, and replacing them with fresh ones. But I hated it the most when my toes felt icky. Slowly unwrapping my hands next. My knuckles bleeding from the scrape with the guys face. I flexed them to get some of the movement flowing so they wouldn’t stiffen up. Worried about how I was going to get back to my house when Darren was my ride. Looking up into my dad’s eyes, as he approached me. “Enjoyed the fight?”
His grin widened, delight lighting up his face. “That fire you displayed after the brawl is exactly what’s going to make us millions when you finally step in the ring with the reigning champ. But you need to make better choices.”
“Come on dad,” I groaned, looking away.
He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. His thumb and forefinger practically indented into my jaw. It didn’t matter that I was almost 29. Instantly, I started shaking. Swallowing hard as I waited for the punch that would never come. He hasn’t hit me since I was 18, but my insides still shrank inside whenever he touched me like frostbite.
“You’ll be fightin’ behind bars for free you keep entertaining trust fund babies.”
“I know dad,” I said, through gritted teeth.
“This ain’t high school. Keep your hands to yourself or I’ll break them myself. I’m not going to let you ruin this opportunity for us.”
“I got it.”
He relinquished my head, but in a way that caused a sharp shooting pain as my neck snapped back. Eyeing me a moment longer before he said, “You good? Nobody checked you out.”
“I’m fine.”
My gaze never left my hands.
“Don’t blow up that man’s phone tonight either. Will be out late. He doesn’t need stress from you.”
“Dad, when have I ever done that?” I asked getting really tired. Darren and I didn’t have that type of relationship. No matter how I may wish it was different. In dads mind, I was just like every woman he had ever dated. He had to protect his favorite son-in-law from my feminine crazy. Even if it didn’t exist.
“Tell my grandson, I love him.”
“Of course.” Just glad when he finally left. Tears welling up in my eyes. I always had to think about my career first. No questions asked.
📔📔📔📔
Want to find out what happens? It’s easy – you just have to pick up a copy of The Bolo Dance.
