Page 13

CHAPTER 13

AJ

The last week had gone by in a blur. Between doing a little digging on the two fighters I was up against tomorrow and trying to figure out my next moves with Rosalie, it was over in no time. So, now, here I was, the day before the fight, back at the gym. Pumping iron and doing my boxing routines to limber up my muscles fully before a fight was something I hadn’t had to do in over a year. I’d be lying if I said there wasn't some soreness, but I just pushed through. I knew my body’s limit, and I wasn’t near it. Leading up to the fight tomorrow, I would need to give my muscles some rest. But today’s workout was just starting.

First, you ain’t got no business hitting a punching bag if you hadn’t warmed up. So, I grabbed a jump rope and started working my muscles. There was an old boom box here, and it was bumping some classic hip-hop. I quickly found my rhythm to the beat of “California Love” by 2Pac.

Now that I had worked up a decent sweat, it was time to move on to the weights and get the blood pumping through my arms. I picked up a couple of twenty-five-pound dumbbells to start, did a dozen reps, then upped it to fifty-pounds. I went from free weights to the bench press and pressed over 300lbs, unspotted, for ten reps before setting it back on its frame.

Done. Time for the punching bags.

But just as I was about to walk over to my bag, a group of very sexy women paused at the fence of the gym. One of them, a tall brunette wearing a bright green bikini top and wrap skirt, waved at me. I raised an eyebrow, and she leaned over the fence.

“Hey, Mr. Tattooed Arms. Come here a sec.”

I flexed my jaw and walked over. Couldn’t these fine bitches see I was in the middle of a workout? Better be good.

“I knew it! It is you! Girls, I used to watch him fight way back!”

I racked my brain on who the hell this chick was, and then it hit me. I remembered a little brunette who used to be tight with Tracy, back when I’d first fought in T’s rings and Tracy and I started hooking up. Damn, she’d either finally filled out those curves or found someone to buy them for her. But what the hell was her name? Next to Tracy, she had been pretty forgettable back then.

“You probably don’t remember me. Why would you? I was always hiding behind the other girls. You fighters used to scare the crap outta me! But are you still fighting? I heard from an old friend that there’s a special kind of match this week. Maybe my girls and I will go, and they can see what the old Carrie gets up to!” She laughed, and her friends all giggled with her as their eyes flickered between her and me.

I placed my hands on either side of the railing around her and smiled at them all. “Yeah, I am. The fight is tomorrow night. I bet you and your friends would enjoy the show. You ladies should come.”

She stepped on her tiptoes to meet my eyes.

“Are you still hanging with Tracy? Or do you need someone new to cheer you on in the stands?”

I smirked back at her. Pushing off the railing, I walked backward with my hands tucked into my hoodie pocket. “Sorry, I have a girl now. But a few extra fans in the crowd never hurt.”

She rolled her eyes but winked, and she and her friends chatted loudly as they walked down along the shops of Venice Beach’s Ocean Front Walk.

I went over to my rucksack and grabbed some water and my hand wraps. After wrapping my hands, making sure to protect all of my knuckles, I walked over to a bag and got into position.

Time to get in one final round of boxing before my match tomorrow. Let’s make it count.

Bam!

My first hit landed solidly in the middle, and the bag swung away and then back at me with force. I dodged and kept on my assault. I landed blow after blow, really pushing the bag to its limits. And I had a feeling I was gonna be donating some cash today because with my last pummel, the bag ripped, and its sandy contents spilled all over the ground below it.

Dammit .

I picked up the empty bag and dragged it over to the storage room for the outdoor gym, shoving some cash in the locked box for the replacement. One of these days, they would just buy a more durable bag. Until then, I guessed I’d just keep on donating however often I needed to.

I dapped up a few guys I hadn’t seen in a while. A lot of people were surprised to see me here. I had to put a few new young bloods in their place when they thought they could boss me around the gym. But they soon learned that if they just left me alone to do my own thing, it would be better off for them in the long run. It only took a couple of hours of out-lifting them to show them who the boss of this gym was.

“Heard on the street that you got yourself a tough match tomorrow night. Thought you were more of a circuit man than a circus act,” an older gym rat said as he wiped some sweat off his forehead.

“I heard you were fighting wild animals. Is it true?” another asked as he chuckled and took a drink of water.

“Don’t know what morons you’re talking to, but, nah, I have a match against past has-beens. Nothing I can’t easily handle,” I replied as I stuffed my wraps back into my bag.

“You sure about that? You’ve been out of the fight scene for a long time, AJ. Might be harder than you think, especially with two opponents.”

I cracked my neck and rolled my shoulders before tightening the drawstrings on my bag and swinging it over my shoulder, where it rested against my back.

“Yeah, well, if you only knew. But if you were smart, you’d come, place a bet on me to win, and collect more pay than you’ve gotten at the factory in months.”

With that, I walked out of the gym and over to my car. Even with them giving me a hard time, something about getting in a workout always put me in a damn good mood. So much so that I decided to go get some of my cash I had stashed in my storage unit so I could give it to T so he could use my money to bet on me. Never hurts to have someone willing to help you with a side bet.

But there was still one major problem. How to convince Rosalie to meet up with me.

I’d thought hard all week about how I was going to get Rosalie to come and watch me. Not having her ringside during my first fight back in LA just didn’t feel right. Not after what happened during the championship match.

We deserve a do-over.

But as I rounded the corner to the parking lot where my lowrider sat, I almost walked right into none other than Billy Crystal and a bunch of other Barons he had with him.

“Yo, AJ. Where you been, man? Haven’t seen you since you ran after your girl like a coyote with its tail tucked between its legs.”

A few of the guys around him laughed at his little joke. I gave him a look, and he shrugged.

“You know I’m playin’, man. But you gotta be short on your supply. Need a fix?”

He wasn’t wrong. I had smoked my last joint a few days ago, and taking a bit of the edge off tonight wouldn’t be the worst idea.

“Yeah. How much you got on you, Billy?” I asked as I shifted my sack onto my other shoulder.

“Damn, man, I’ve got a shit ton. We were gonna off-load it at some rich kid’s beach house party tonight, but, shit, what he don’t know won’t hurt ’im. Plus, these rich punks are all the same. They don’t care what’s there as long as they’re gettin’ high.”

I nodded and reached into my pocket, grabbing out some cash to hand to him. He flipped through the bills and then walked over to a backpack one of the other guys was wearing. He unzipped the side pocket and picked out a dozen blunts. He tossed them to me, and I took them and pocketed them.

“Hey, if you aren’t doing anything tomorrow night, swing by the fight. Some pretty big bets going down. Figured you should bet on the winner.” I smirked and gave him a nod.

“You know what? I haven’t been to a fight in a fuckin’ minute. But, shit, you know I’ll be wherever the money’s at.”

I watched as Billy and his gang walked out of the parking lot and down the beach walkway, toward the houses that lined the sea.

I pulled into the storage building parking lot as I kept thinking of options of how to get in touch with her. Walking over to my unit’s roll-up door, I popped the padlock and shoved it up. Right inside sat boxes of shit from my motel room that I couldn’t take to Tokyo with me. Some boxes in the way back were from when I had been a kid and left home and ended up living with Pops for a bit. Between them all was my donk. She was painted in a nice, glossy cream color, but I never got to finish her livery with Rosalie. I wonder if she still had the sketches for it. Then, it hit me. The donk. That was my in.

And I knew just how to spin it. I grabbed a joint from my pocket and lit it, and then I pulled out my phone while I started smoking.

AJ

Hey, I know I’m not your favorite person right now, but my donk’s paint job is fucked up.

Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say when her reply shot into my messages almost instantly.

Rosalie

If you're trying to say I did something wrong when I painted it… *angry swearing emoji*

AJ

Nah, there was a leak in the place I stored it in, and it fucked some of the paint up.

Her typing bubbles popped up and then stopped, which happened again and again. Finally, a reply came through.

Rosalie

Okay, bring it to the shop. I’ll look at it.

I took a drag of my blunt. Now, we’re making some progress .

AJ

Can’t. Battery is dead, and I don’t got money for a tow. I’ll meet you at your dad’s custom car shop and drive you to my car.

Rosalie

I don’t think that’s a good idea. Kordell would flip if he knew I was seeing you alone.

She’s always so fucking concerned about this guy. Fuck him.

AJ

Not saying you have to lie, but does he have to know when you’re meeting someone for business? Seems pretty controlling to me. Surprised you let him tell you what to do in the first place. It needs to get done. Can you meet tomorrow after work?

It took her another few minutes to reply, but it was worth the wait.

Rosalie

I can meet you. See you then.

I smirked and tucked my phone back into my pocket. I finished my blunt and opened up the donk. Finding the money I had left here, I pulled out enough to have T put a wager on me tomorrow night. Then, I locked everything back up and hopped in my car. I stopped by the chicken shack on my way back to the motel, picking up a bucket of fried chicken and some sides. I was in for some good food when I got home. Only the motel didn’t feel much like home anymore. Not without her there.

Tomorrow, I would bring Rosalie to my fight, and maybe the aftermath would end up just like old times.