“I’m not fucking you,” Venom immediately says.
“When did I ever suggest that? Jesus. I mean, you need a workout. Fuck. You finish your coffee and then I wanna take you somewhere.”
Thankfully she didn’t put up a fight when it came to this. She finished her damn coffee, changed her outfit and met me back downstairs. Now we’re walking down the street and I’m about to take her to the one place where I find solace. Some people go to church, or temple. Not me. I come here—the gym.
I’m not one of those muscle heads who lift weights and get into bodybuilding competitions. But, every now and again I need to get some frustrations out in a positive way. There isn’t always stuff goin’ on at the club. I mean, we get into issues with people and whatnot, but it isn’t like those situations are ref’d and you have someone telling you if you’re takin’ it too damn far. While I don’t mind my adrenaline pumping every now and again with a situation I can’t control, I don’t go looking for trouble. It’s how I became good friends with Frank, who owns the place around the corner.
I pull the door open for Venom and the two of us walk in. Not many people are here this early in the morning, but Frank and a few of his boys are always around. It’s like they never leave the place. “Aye, Ricochet! What’s up, my man?” Frank calls over to me, standing from where he was sitting a moment ago. He’s wearing some sort of jogger outfit and has a gold chain hangin’ around his neck.
“Nothin’ much, just comin’ here to get some steam burnt off. This is Venom, she’s in the club with me. Venom, this is Frank.” The two of them say their introductions and I cut to the chase. “You got anyone she can spar with for a bit?”
He grimaces. “Not right now, man. Marlena won’t be in until seven at least but knowin’ you you’re not gonna be around that long.”
“Yeah, maybe twenty, thirty minutes,” I reply.
“Alright, you spar with her then. You know how to take it easy, and I know you won’t hurt her, so you help ‘er get out whatever she needs to.” Frank’s opened up his gym to everyone who needs it, even the homeless on the streets who can’t get an accessible shower. He shows them how to defend themselves if the situation were to arise, and they get to shower after their session with him or one of his guys. He’s got a good heart, that’s for damn sure.
“You cool with that?” I ask Venom, who I doubt has ever done this in her life.
She gives me a curt nod and I lead her to the back so I can wrap her hands and we can get started.
Chapter Six
Venom
Ricochet proceeds to wrap my hands in some sort of fabric. It’s the typical stuff you see in the boxing and MMA movies. I actually remember it the most in Southpaw, but that movie really struck a chord within me.
“Okay, come here, I’m going to start you with some upper cuts and jabs,” Ricochet tells me, acting like I must know what he’s saying. Obviously, I don’t, so I furrow my brows in confusion and hope he’ll explain. “They’re fancy words for what I’m about to show you. Relax, Venom. Just relax and let’s get some of that frustration out. Alright?”
I give him a curt nod and listen as he tells me to bring my arms up and shows me how to get my arms in position. My left leg is forward while my right leg is back and he goes over how I’m going to lead with a left hook since I’m right-handed, and how those who’re left-handed would lead with a right hook.
I love how I don’t know anything about MMA, but he’s taking his time in showing me exactly what needs to be done. After a while I start to really get into it and his buddy Frank, and who I assume are Frank’s friends start chuckling in the back, saying how at this rate I’ll be kicking his ass in no time.
Sweat beads on Ricochet’s face and I find myself staring a little too intently at the man before me, and guilt soon settles in, reminding me of why I’m feeling down to begin with. He goes over to where he put a towel a few minutes ago and wipes it against his forehead, taking the sweat with it.
“You look distracted again,” he mutters out before grabbing his water bottle and taking a good ol’ chug of it.
“A little bit, but I’m trying not to be.” I’m honest in my confession, and I doubt he’ll ever know what’s plaguing my mind, and that’s okay. It’s my cross to bear. Sucking in a deep breath, I grab the water bottle he got me not too long ago.
“Yeah, well, stay in the moment. I think you have a habit of worrying about stuff you can’t control. I’ll help you cut that shit out, just trust me alright?”
For some reason I nod at what he’s said and he clears his throat before speaking again. “Cool, I’m gonna go freshen up. You comin’?”
“I thought you weren’t trying to sleep with me,” I tease him, seeing a hint of playfulness glimmer in his eyes.
“Not actively trying,” he comments, trying to hide a devious smile as he walks away toward the sign that says ‘lockers’. I end up following him, even though I know I probably shouldn’t and Ricochet strips off his shirt, revealing a perfectly glistening eight-pack.
Good god.
I had no idea he looked like this under there . . . holy fuck.
I have a really hard time not licking my lips at the sight of him. He catches my gaze and clears his throat, pulling me back into the moment. “You want some?” He holds out a plastic bag of something, but it’s not until I take a few steps over to him that I realize what he has in his hands. He has baby wipes. I can’t help cracking up laughing at him and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t even, it makes me fresh enough to go grab a bite of food at the diner. Don’t wanna be stinkin’ up, you know?” He still has a wipe in his hand, so he rubs it against his body, under his arms, and tosses it in the trash. He grabs a stick of deodorant from his locker and applies more, while I give in and wipe myself off too. The feeling of the wipe against my skin is refreshing as hell, and lovely.
Over the next couple minutes he changes into his normal attire and puts on his cut, while I’m still in sweat ridden clothes. I was wondering why he had a bag slung around his shoulder when we were on our way to the gym, and now I understand.
We say our goodbyes and I’m introduced to the rest of Frank’s friends, then we head further down the block, walk two more blocks away and head into a restaurant called Mamie’s. I’ve seen it so many times in passing, though I never had the urge to walk in and have a meal.
“Rico, how’s my favorite lil’ dumpling doing?” an elderly woman calls from behind the counter. Once she sees me her eyes sparkle and she looks over to him. I’m sure she has her assumptions, so it’ll be interesting to see if she brings any of them to light.
“I’m great, Mams. This is Venom, she belongs to my club. Came to the gym with me this mornin’.” He immediately tells her as we make our way up to the bar. He takes a seat and I sit beside him. Looking around I realize there aren’t menus here, the placemats are the menus, which is super old school. It’s so fuckin’ adorable.
“Hey there, sweetheart. You look like you’re a riot.” She looks me up and down before her smile brightens up. “I’ve always loved a good woman with some spirit, and something tells me you’ve got plenty of it.”