Page 6 of Mean Machine

“I’m sorry it happened.” He rubbed his wrists, too aware of the way the red cotton bandages hugged his hands and wrists. Hands of a killer. The very strength that allowed him to survive in the ring, the very strength that allowed him to challenge others and prevail, thatstrengthhad ended a life. How long until he’d look at his hands and not remember what they’d done? What they still did? No, he’d take that with him to his grave.

A soft sound had him glancing to the side, where he noticed Catherine’s enormous camera erection pointed his way. Anger rose immediately, leapt to the fore of his mind, and if not for Les and Curtis so close by, he’d have asked her what the fuck she thought she was doing.

Instead, more photos. She was cold-blooded to pull the trigger again.

He turned to face Steven. “Show me a halfway decent human being who doesn’t have regrets.”

“That’s a good line. I’ll be using that,” Steven said.

“You’re welcome.” Not like he could stop them. He was glad they didn’t dig more into his prison term. Brooklyn himself had spent only one night there—the next day, he’d been assessed, profiled, and in the afternoon, ISU had already placed a bid on him and paid Her Majesty’s Government restitution for his crimes, minus a percentage of the amount his presumed appeals process and upkeep would likely have cost. He now owed ISU that amount, plus the running costs they paid for his boxing career and interest, of course. Even with his winnings, even with side jobs he could accept or reject (but usually accepted), he’d get out of his contract in fifty years or so. Those were technicalities, however, and their readers likely didn’t care.

Restlessly he tapped the gloves together. “Want to see some training?”

Catherine lowered the camera. “I’d like to see what you usually do. Talk us through it.”

That was easy enough. He could fall back into his routine and just be watched, answer questions like he would explain stuff to a rookie. He put on his gloves.

Once he’d worked up a sweat, the anger receded, became a dull sensation deep in his belly rather than something tightening his throat. He was good at this. He liked showing off and made Steven hold the bag for him, grinning to himself when the journalist had to take a half step back every time he put all his weight behind a punch.

“Tighten your abs, mate.”

“What abs?” Steven huffed back, but leaned into the punches long enough to make this part somewhat worthwhile.

“Wow, and I thought it looked easy on TV,” he said after Brooklyn was done.

“You mean taking punches?” Brooklyn grinned. “No, it’s not, but you get to the point where you’re used to it.”

“Uh-huh.” Steven nodded to Catherine. “Any other suggestions?”

“I’d like some photos of him sparring.”

Brooklyn shrugged. “We can do a short one. I was working with Stu. The guy over there.”

“Can he lose the T-shirt?”

“Sure.” Brooklyn climbed back into the ring and motioned Stu over. “Lose the shirt; we have guests.”

Stu grinned. “Gloves off too?”

Catherine climbed into the ring. “May I?” She pulled the T-shirt from Stu’s body and placed it gingerly over the ropes. Considering that Stu was an enormous heavyweight and scarred to hell, Brooklyn did admire her cool. Then again, Curtis would be on them like a rottweiler if anybody dared to so much as wolf-whistle at her. And for all his appearance, Stu was a kind soul.

Brooklyn lifted his gloved fists to protect the sides of his face and squared up with Stu. They knew each other well enough to sense when the other was ready.

It wasn’t much more than a light bout, a few solid punches to the sides and chest, but Stu was holding back. Allowing him to look good in front of the camera? Brooklyn was about to try to lure him out when Catherine told them to stop.

Brooklyn stepped away and left the ring.

“I think I want to be at your next fight,” she said, “so Steven can get the atmosphere.”

“Cash can arrange backstage passes. Can I take the gloves off?”

“Sure.”

He pulled them off but left the bandages on.

“Can you show us your quarters?”

“Yeah. This way.”