Page 35 of Only You

Detroit

Most people thought boxing was about the punch when really, it was all about the footwork. Where did the speed come from? Footwork. The power? Footwork. The balance? All footwork, and, though Selene would never admit it, Demir’s was some of the best she had ever seen.

Even when his opponent, Zac ‘Ironfist’ Gibbs, threw a left-hook-upper-cut combo that sent him staggering back, he kept his rhythm.

The roars from the crowd didn’t seem to faze him as he pushed himself off the ropes, blocking the next punch.

Zac swung left, and Demir veered right, tossing out a quick cross punch.

The other boxer grunted and tried to hug him, but Demir pushed him off, punching the fighter twice in the ribs before throwing another hook.

The challenger fell to one knee, and Demir was sent to his corner as the referee jumped between them, checking on the competitor.

Zac forced himself to stand, but Selene could tell by his limp arms and staggering feet, the guy was already done.

He let out a yell as he threw a Hail Mary punch.

Demir ducked and swung the final blow. His opponent went down, eyes closed, face bruised and mouth bleeding.

She winced while the modest crowd erupted, drowning out the referee’s countdown. Demir only relaxed when the referee lifted his gloved hand in victory.

Selene clapped half-heartedly as Demir went to the back room before standing and grabbing the duffle bag at her feet.

Wearing a pair of Jack’s overalls from his job as a mechanic, with a white work shirt, hair tucked under a tan hat, she didn’t stand out like she usually did, though most did a double take when they realised she was a girl.

That’s also how Demir’s opponent reacted when she approached where he sat on the sidelines.

‘Damn, I’m seeing things,’ Zac slurred around his busted lip, a guy dabbing at it.

‘Not really,’ Selene said as she took off her hat and sat down. Someone gripped her arm, and she put her hand in her pocket, wrapping it around the hilt of her pocketknife.

‘What are you doing?’ the coach hollered.

‘I’m about to patch your guy up,’ she said. ‘Or do you want to pay this dummy who’s only putting Band-Aids on him?’ Selene heard a scoff and mumble behind her but kept her eyes on the coach. The man’s scowl deepened, but, after a moment, he let her arm go.

‘Move, Ralph.’

Selene let out a breath of relief, releasing the knife in her pocket as the coach and Ralph argued back and forth. She turned her attention to the boxer, carefully placing her hands on his face.

‘All right, let’s have a look.’

Twenty minutes later she was tucking a few bills into the bottom of her bag as she headed into the locker room. Jack stood over Demir counting money while the boxer subtly cradled his side.

‘That was one hell of a fight,’ Jack complimented, sitting next to Demir. ‘Keep it up and we’ll move up to the big money in no time.’

‘I’ll say,’ Selene said, grabbing their attention.

Demir’s jaw tightened as she stepped in front of him, looking her over with a grimace.

When his eyes landed back on her face, she was pursing her lips.

‘What,’ she asked. ‘You thought I would risk my good clothes down here?’ She smirked, turning to her boyfriend.

‘Although I could get a smaller size. Think one of your tinier work friends could lend me a pair, Jack?’

‘Hey, don’t be getting ideas about going down to my job,’ he told her as she placed her bag on the ground, rifling through it. ‘I’ll find you a pair. And you’re late.’

‘Had to finish something. Always so bossy,’ she murmured, pulling out bandages and tape alongside bags of ice she had gotten from the shitty bar next door. Demir was still glaring at her when she looked up. She shoved the ice on his face, and he hissed.

‘Watch it,’ he grunted, snatching the bag from her hand. ‘Haven’t you heard of bedside manners? Shit.’

‘You can take it,’ she snipped, grabbing his wrist to lift the ice from his face and gently prodding around his eye. ‘Nothing but a bruise, although he got you good here.’

She tapped the left side of his face, just under the cut on his cheek that stretched to the bridge of his nose.

Searching her bag, she pulled out a bottle of rubbing alcohol she had snagged from home and dabbed the wound.

When it was clean, she carefully covered it with a bandage, Demir so still, he was barely breathing.

‘Not too bad,’ she reported, checking his ribs.

‘Your right rib is bruised some but nothing serious. You’ll be fine.

Make sure to move around tomorrow or you’ll regret it the next time you practise.

And take this.’ She took out an unlabelled bottle filled with brown liquor from her bag she had gotten earlier that night. ‘As needed.’

‘How the hell did you get Sam to give you some whisky?’ Jack asked incredulously.

Selene smirked at his reaction. Sam tended to be stingy with his best stuff.

‘Three bucks and I promised I’d take a shot with him,’ she said. ‘He thought I was a lightweight, like one of his other girlies.’

‘You need to stop hanging around creepy men.’ Jack took out a cigarette, jealousy colouring his tone. It sent a thrill under Selene’s skin.

‘You hang around creepy men, and I’m hanging around you,’ she replied before standing. She kissed his cheek. ‘It’s inevitable, Jack.’ He followed her, wrapping an arm around her waist.

‘You just like trouble,’ he murmured. She laughed as he leaned in. Before they could kiss, Demir cleared his throat. Jack rolled his eyes but stopped.

‘The champ is ready to chug this and pass out,’ he announced. ‘Let’s get the fuck out of here.’

Selene frowned at him. ‘You really know how to kill a party,’ she sighed before gathering her things.

‘Relax, sweetheart. Demir here is all about business. Here’s the money for tonight for you.’ He handed Demir some bills before holding out a few to Selene. She narrowed her eyes at it. ‘And you.’ She ignored the eager look in Jack’s eyes and waved her hand towards Demir.

‘Give it to the champ,’ Selene said lightly. ‘I patched up our opponent before coming in here. D did a number on him, and I got a pretty penny for it, so…’ She winked at Demir, trying to add some playfulness to the moment. ‘Keep winning.’

‘Come on. You’re gonna need it for something,’ Jack insisted. ‘Like a new dress or makeup or whatever shit women get.’

Selene gritted her teeth. She hated it when he got like this, always trying to give her stuff under the excuse of her ‘needing’ it. She wasn’t a charity case. ‘I told you I got my money already.’

‘Ain’t no way those dudes are giving you this much. Don’t be so stub—’

Demir snatched the money from Jack’s hand. ‘Hey!’

‘She didn’t throw a punch and got to play doctor. I say we’re even,’ he said tiredly.

Jack opened his mouth, and Demir gave him a steely look, squaring his shoulders. Even bruised up, he could knock Jack clean out if he had to. Everyone in the room knew that.

Jack’s face reddened. ‘Let’s go already,’ he gritted out, ego bruised as he stomped outside.

Selene stayed behind while Demir slowly counted the money he’d earned, ignoring her completely. She couldn’t think of anything to say. After another moment of quiet, she slipped out and caught up to Jack.

‘Don’t ever do that,’ he demanded when she slid into the car.

‘Then, stop pushing money on me,’ she shot back. ‘You know I hate when you do that.’

‘You go on and on about people treating you fairly. I give you money for your work and you have an issue. You’re always doing this. Always looking for all these other people to treat you right but got an issue when I do it…’

Selene tuned him out but made sure to respond every now and then. She knew it was better to let Jack vent. He would calm down later, and they could actually talk then; they were similar that way.

In the meantime, she contemplated how grateful she was that Demir had decided to be selfish.

‘She’s more stubborn than a mule and twice the headache,’ Jack declared. ‘Pass me the wrench, will you?’

Demir handed it over, looking around the garage for a moment.

He heard the other grease-covered workers shouting, their backs bent and faces dog-tired, and Demir was glad he didn’t have to do work like this.

He would gladly take a fight over fixing engines in a hot garage any day.

Honestly, it was surprising Jack still worked here.

‘Sometimes, you can’t beat an honest living,’ he’d told him once.

Demir wouldn’t know much about that, and he highly doubted he wanted to.

‘You wanted Selene around,’ Demir reminded him lazily. ‘Should’ve known it would be too much to work with her.’

‘You don’t get it, D.’ Jack wiped off his fingers, eyes suddenly dazed. ‘She’s not one of those ditzy chicks. She’s not just going to school to find a husband, you know. She wants to do something, which is crazy as hell to me but—’ He shrugged. ‘I’m crazy, too.’

‘I don’t get you two,’ Demir confessed. ‘You argue like cats and dogs, and she flirts with every guy walking around when she’s with you. Seems like she’s here for more than just a favour.’

‘Hey, calm down with all that all right?’ Jack lifted his wrench, and Demir held up his hands in surrender. ‘Look, I know it doesn’t look like we’re going steady but she’s different, D.’

‘Of course, she is,’ Demir said. ‘She looks more like me than you.’

Jack shook his head. ‘Not just that. We make sense together even if the whole world doesn’t know it yet.

’ He looked at Demir with renewed confidence.

‘That’s why when we get enough money, we’re all going to New York.

I heard it’s wild out there and that’s just what we all need.

We can go and have more than this shit. Me and Selene…

we’re soulmates, you know. She sees the ugly in me.

I see the crazy in her and we just make sense together.

No one gets me like her. You ever feel that, D? ’

Demir thought back about the brief moments when there was a body next to his, but that’s all he could recall.

Bodies, bright red lips, and disappointed eyes when he wouldn’t give more.

Everything was always so fleeting… his mind shot back to Selene leaning her head on Jack’s shoulder, her smirk softening into a smile. ‘No,’ he answered. ‘Nor do I care to.’

‘I know.’ Jack smirked. ‘You are an island, my friend, and not even the prettiest dame is allowed on shore.’

Maybe not . But he liked the image of himself on a lush island, somewhere no one could find him. Yet, he couldn’t shake the image of a sailboat miles away, always floating in sight, a moment away from drifting closer.