I cling to Marshall's arm while we walk down the vacated street towards a small restaurant. The cold wind bites at my cheeks as we walk. His hands are secured in his pockets leaving me to hold on to his elbow and bicep. The black jeans and hoodie I have on won't stand against this wind. Marshall looks content in his black leather jacket and t shirt. We walk in silence, passing many local shops that are closed up. It's late. We walk into the restaurant. It's very small, maybe five tables in the whole thing. It's the only thing open at this hour. The inside is filled with people probably looking for shelter from the cold. We eat in silence, sitting at a table near the window. There's tension between us and his expression is impossible to read. He's slumped back in his chair, sipping his beer and observing me.
"Ask me." He says.
"What?" I look up from the table and meet his eyes.
"Go on." He sits up straight placing the bottle on the table. "Ask me what you've been dying to ask me. Ask where I've been."
"Okay. Where have you been?" I sigh, awaiting his half assed answer.
"I'll show you." He agrees. "But you can't demand to come with me. Or try to stop me. Understand?"
"Marshall that isn't fair at all." I contradict, leaning in also. "I'm worried about you."
He's silent. He tosses a $20 bill on the table and hauls me out of my seat. He guides the two of us further down the road and I cling to his arm again. We're crossing over into the really unsafe part of Detroit. We pass a group of men singing as they lean up against the side of a brick building. They don't bother me. The unsafeness doesn't bother me until Marshall removes his hand from his pocket and laces our fingers. He's going into protective mode. Like how he was at Nate's party and at Relapse. We walk fast towards a bar with the name "Infinite" in neon blue lettering. He shoves through the doors. There's many groups of men stationed amongst the walls of the bar.
He walks us both to the back. His arm moves from my hand to my waist, holding me tightly against his body. I am stared at by many of the people in the bar making me very self conscious. We walk to the back to where the bar is and a man with jet black hair and scruff to match turns around. His eyes are a piercing green. His muscles are bursting out of his t shirt. He's possibly the largest man I've ever seen. I watch the glass he's drying in his hands, fascinated that it hasn't broken under the strength his hands must have.
"What'll it be?" He asks, his voice deep and low.
"I'll have an 8 mile." Marshall answers.
The man's facial expression softens and he sets the glass down.
"Her too?" He asks, pointing at me.
Marshall nods. The man walks down a hallway behind the bar and gestures for us to follow. He takes us to a staircase that leads down into what I assume is the basement.
"Be careful down there." He warns. "Rule doesn't like strangers."
I follow Marshall down the stairs. He knows where he's going. He's been here before. We turn down many halls and through one last door, is what I had expected. One big boxing ring, surrounded by dedicated fans who clench money in their fists, screaming at the cage. These people are like animals, rattling the cages and screaming vulgar things at the fighters. Marshall takes my hand, leading me away from the ring. There's a box office where tickets are sold towards the back half of the small arena. He leads us there and knocks on the door. A man opens it up. He's stunningly gorgeous with sandy blonde hair and green eyes. Jeez do you have to be gorgeous to work here? His arms are coated in tattoos. I can see more poking out of his shirt collar indicating he has some on his neck.
He sizes up Marshall and then gestures for the two of us to come inside. Marshall releases my hand completely and sits in one of the chairs before a small desk that's swamped with papers. I sit in the adjacent chair while the man flops down into the desk chair, lifting his feet onto the table. I examine the wall behind him. There are old newspaper clippings hanging everywhere. Headlines that read "Rule Cox takes down Erik Trip" and "Cox puts Kahn in hospital".
"Long time no see Slim." He says to Marshall. "This her?" He points at me.
Marshall nods. The man looks at me and cocks his head to one side.
"She's pretty like you said." He states, rocking his chair back and forth. "But what is she doing here?"
I can't believe these two. They're talking about me like I'm not even here. I don't even know this mans name and Marshall's hardly given me any answers.
"She got curious." Marshall explains. "I just don't want one of the guys slipping up."
"Understandable." He laughs. "That'd be very unfortunate...for them."
The man turns to me, his green eyes are flawless. They're not as pretty as Marshall's but they're up there.
"You a fan of Rule Cox?" I gesture to the news articles.
He smiles. "Sweetheart I am Rule Cox. Ex-fighter and owner of this boxing club."
"Oh." I say nervously. "I'm Rachel."
Rule laughs. "Oh yes I know who you are." He brings his feet down and leans forward across his desk. "Every one of our fighters knows about you."
His smile is from ear to ear. He glances at Marshall who is staring at the two of us. He's calm around Rule, unlike how he is with other guys. He trusts him. An awkward silence fills the room. The only noise comes from the raging crowd on the other side of the door.
"So how do you know him?" I ask Rule about Marshall.
Rule laughs again. It's distinct and deep. "Oh you haven't told her." He nods at Marshall who lets his eyes fall to the floor.
Rule stands from his chair and walks to a file cabinet behind us. He pulls out a thick black folder and hands it to me. Hesitantly, I open it up. Inside there are pictures of Marshall. He's in the boxing ring with another fighter. The referee stands between them, holding each of their gloves, he's about to announce the winner. I flip to the next page and see another photo. Marshall's right arm is extended, delivering a right hook to his opponents jaw. I examine his body, while his opponent looks bruised and bloody, Marshall looks almost unharmed. He just looks sweaty. I look up from the folder and see that Marshall's still looking at the floor. I flip one more page and there's a headline that reads "Mathers vs. Cox". Sure enough, below is a photo of the two of them in the ring bumping gloves before the fight.
"You're a boxer." I say under my breath to Marshall.
"One of the best actually." Rule interjects. "He's never lost."
"Is that true?" I look at him.
Marshall nods, still looking down. Rule drags his chair over and sits beside me. He puts on a pair of eye glasses and points to the news article about their fight.
"Your boyfriend put me on my ass in the first 45 seconds of the fight." He explains. "He's a brilliant fighter. That's when I knew I had to sign him to my gym."
"I hope you don't mind me asking this, but is this the illegal fights that are on TV?" I look into Rule's eyes.
"No love they're not."
He takes the folder from me and turns to the back. He points out another photo of Marshall and it's captioned "Mathers vs. Howard". Standing next to Marshall is Tony. He looks beat up while Marshall stands triumphant with one glove raised by the referee.
"That's the guy who's running the illegal fights." Rule points to Tony. "Lost his mind when your boy here beat him. Marshall broke Tony's 2 year winning streak."
"You took down Tony?" I ask in disbelief. "Wow."
Rule and I both laugh. Marshall just half smiles and keeps staring at the ground. Rule and I exchange an awkward look of "what should we do?".
"Can we have a minute?" I ask him.
"Of course." Rule agrees. "I have to go record the scores anyway. I'll be back in ten minutes."
Rule exits his office and I'm left alone with Marshall. He's sitting down in the same chair. His position has not changed. I stand in front of him. He looks up just enough for me to hold eye contact.
"What?" I pry. "What's wrong?"
Marshall shakes his head and looks back down at the ground. I grab his hand and yank him up out of the chair. It takes all of my strength to move him an inch so he willingly stands the rest of the way. I look in his eyes and I can see he's bothered by something but it's hopeless trying to get it out of him. He looks down at me, an empty expression on his face. Slowly, I wrap my arms around his torso and nuzzle my face in his chest. He doesn't offer any type of physical response.
Marshall's arms dangle lifelessly by his sides. I look up to see him still staring at me. I slowly unfold my arms and curl them around his neck. My hands pull his face down so I can kiss him. The kiss is soft and slow, he isn't making any effort. He's just letting me do what I want.
"Kiss me." I whisper. "Please."
Both of Marshall's hands cup my cheeks. His lips brush on mine slightly before pressing a harder kiss on them. He pulls off too quick though, leaving me wanting more. And that damned empty expression is still lingering on his face.
"Marsh what is it?" I ask again.
"I shouldn't have brought you here." He says softly. "I just couldn't lie to you anymore."
"Why shouldn't I have come?" My hands are still holding his neck. "I like this. I like seeing all this. That you're a fighter. And a pretty good one at that."
"It's not that Rach." He shakes his head. "The people here. They're not good."
"What do you mean?"
"People don't like when I win." He sighs. "And they want to hurt me when I beat my opponents." Marshall moves a piece of my hair from my eyes. "They can't physically hurt me. But now I'm afraid...I don't...I don't want them to try and hurt you."
"Who?" I'm lost.
"Every fighter has a sponsor." He says. "Rule is my sponsor. And sometimes when fighters lose, their sponsors go after the winners. They break their hands so they can't fight anymore or hurt their friends. Awful things." He looks sad now, holding my cheeks. "For the longest time I had nothing to lose but now...I have everything on the line."
He presses his forehead against mine. Before I can say anything Rule comes back in with another man. They look alike except the other man has dark brown hair and blue eyes. He has less tattoos but they're jaws are the same.
"Rachel this is Maverick, Maverick this is Rachel." He gestures to us and we handshake. "This is my brother and co owner."
Maverick hugs Marshall briefly. Rule claims his spot in his chair again and Maverick takes mine. Marshall sits back down too and I am left standing. Marshall's strong hands yank me down to his lap, offering me a seat. I cross my legs, feeling very unladylike sitting on a mans lap.
"Oh this is the Rachel." Maverick laughs. "I've heard a lot about you."
"Really?" I ask.
"Oh sure." He smiles again. "Every time we train he's always like 'I wonder what Rachel's doing' and 'I can't go out tonight I'm meeting Rachel'".
"You say all that?" I look at Marshall and he turns bright red.
"I should kill you." He says jokingly to Maverick. Everyone laughs.
"So", Rule turns to me and Marshall. "You wanna come see Marshall fight? His next one's on Saturday."
"Rule we talked about this-" Marshall starts.
"I asked if she wanted to." He narrows his eyes on Marshall. "I didn't say she had to." After putting him back in his place, Rule turns and awaits my answer.
"Well I'd love to." I say. "But I know he doesn't want me to."
"Aw why not Slim it's not like you're gonna lose." Maverick laughs. It clicks for me that he's the type of guy who always has a smile on his face. "Plus I think the guys will be happy to finally meet her."
"The guys are the reason I don't want her to come dumbass." Marshall snaps. "I swear to God it's like they've never seen a girl before."
"They'll behave." Maverick fights back.
"No. Remember when they met Ren? That was her first and last time coming here." Marshall reminds them. "Then Tony took it out on her."
"They've changed man." Rule says. "Plus she can stay with me during the fight. They know better than to fuck with me."
"Yeah I'll stay with Rule." I turn to Marshall.
He looks at me with his big blues. They're begging me not to agree. I can see he's hurt on the inside. I bring my hand up to his cheek and slowly drag it down to his chest. Leaning forward, I press another kiss on the corner of his mouth. Not enough to satisfy him, but enough to make him want some more.
"Please?" I ask again.
He shifts and I can feel his erection underneath my thigh. His expression is still blank. Slowly, I bite my lip in anticipation for his answer. He puts his hand on my thigh before speaking.
"I'll think about it." He agrees, nodding a little bit.
"Damn." Maverick cracks up. "You got him on a tight leash girl."
"Shut the fuck up Mav no one asked you." Marshall hisses. He stands up taking my hand again. "She'll come to practice tomorrow and then maybe the fight. I haven't decided yet."
"Fair enough." Rule throws his hands up in defeat. "You win again Marshall. See you tomorrow."
"Bye Rachel nice to meet you." Maverick waves at me and I wave to both of them
Marshall drags me out of the office and curls his arm around my waist. He leans down to my ear and I feel his hot breath on me.
"Car or bathroom?" He asks.
"What?"
"Do you want to be fucked in the car or in the bathroom?" He repeats.
I'm shocked by his forwardness but then again I'm really not that shocked.
"Closet." I say, and drag him toward the janitors closet.
"Good choice baby." He growls. "I like the way you think."