looked at Brent and sighed.
“Brent,
leave them be, and come sit with me on the loveseat.”
Her
father looked at Lyric for a second, and then glanced at Landon.
“No
hanky-panky, you two.”
Lyric
couldn’t hold in her laugh.
“Hanky-panky?
Seriously?” Landon said with a straight face.
Lyric
laughed again.
Her
father stood and joined his wife on the loveseat, and Landon moved closer to
Lyric. She snuggled against his side, and he wrapped his arm around her
shoulder. And then they watched a movie, not worrying about anything else, what
the outside world had to say or what they thought, and just enjoying the
feeling of being happy.
Landon
looked down at her and whispered, “I love you.”
She
smiled back. “I love you, too.”
And
she did. God, she loved him so much.
Epilogue
One year later
Lyric
rushed out of the small one bedroom apartment she shared with Landon, got into
her car, and hauled ass to where she knew he’d be boxing. She was running late,
and if she missed Landon fighting she’d be pissed at herself.
Speeding
through the back roads, she had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. It
wasn’t like she hadn’t gone to his boxing matches before, but she’d never
missed one since they had moved in together.
After
they graduated and all that chaos had gone down with Devon and their parents,
they’d still stayed together. She’d gotten accepted into a local college, so
they still had dinner with her father and his mother every Sunday, and Landon
had been doing boxing full-time. He wasn’t a professional, and maybe he never
would be because he just didn’t care about titles, but boxing was still a
passion of his. He worked hard, trained harder, and the money he won in the
underground matches allowed her to not have to work so she could focus on
school.
Twenty
minutes later she was pulling into the building that held the match. This time
it was in the basement of a dry cleaning factory. The bay doors were open. She
could see the workers inside, but she’d be going through the back entrance.
After
cutting the engine and getting out of the car, she rushed through the lot,
around to the back of the building, and once the man at the door let her in,
she made her way down the stairs to the bowels of the building. She heard the
chanting, the screams, could even smell the aggression and excitement in the
air.
Stepping
onto the platform that overlooked the very lower level of the factory, she
could see the makeshift boxing ring set up, and the people crammed around it.
Their hands were in the air, their excitement tangible. Instantly Lyric felt
her heart start to beat faster, felt everything in her come alive as the
scents, sights, and the very air charged her.
She
made her way down to the main floor, and as soon as she got there Hector, one
of the regular bouncers that stayed at these fights, was beside her.
“He’s
been asking for you,” Hector said loudly, trying to be heard over the noise.
“I
know. I ran late,” Lyric responded, knowing Landon was probably worried about
where she’d been. To say Landon was protective of her was an understatement,
but she liked that, loved that her man was so possessive of her.
Hector
pushed people out of their way as he led her toward the corner of the room.
There were a few rooms she could see, ones that were probably mainly for storage,
but tonight they’d allow the fighters to prepare in semi-peace. Hector pounded on the door three times. It
was swung open by another burly looking guy, and when he saw her he stepped
aside. She saw Landon sitting in the center of the room, a guy wrapping his
hands before he’d slip and tie the gloves on.
Landon
saw her and pulled out his earbuds. Even though there was loud chanting and
screaming just behind the doors and walls, she could hear the angry music
blaring from Landon’s headphones. “Fuck, baby, I’ve been trying to get a hold
of you,” Landon said, the worry clear in his voice.
“Brent,
leave them be, and come sit with me on the loveseat.”
Her
father looked at Lyric for a second, and then glanced at Landon.
“No
hanky-panky, you two.”
Lyric
couldn’t hold in her laugh.
“Hanky-panky?
Seriously?” Landon said with a straight face.
Lyric
laughed again.
Her
father stood and joined his wife on the loveseat, and Landon moved closer to
Lyric. She snuggled against his side, and he wrapped his arm around her
shoulder. And then they watched a movie, not worrying about anything else, what
the outside world had to say or what they thought, and just enjoying the
feeling of being happy.
Landon
looked down at her and whispered, “I love you.”
She
smiled back. “I love you, too.”
And
she did. God, she loved him so much.
Epilogue
One year later
Lyric
rushed out of the small one bedroom apartment she shared with Landon, got into
her car, and hauled ass to where she knew he’d be boxing. She was running late,
and if she missed Landon fighting she’d be pissed at herself.
Speeding
through the back roads, she had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. It
wasn’t like she hadn’t gone to his boxing matches before, but she’d never
missed one since they had moved in together.
After
they graduated and all that chaos had gone down with Devon and their parents,
they’d still stayed together. She’d gotten accepted into a local college, so
they still had dinner with her father and his mother every Sunday, and Landon
had been doing boxing full-time. He wasn’t a professional, and maybe he never
would be because he just didn’t care about titles, but boxing was still a
passion of his. He worked hard, trained harder, and the money he won in the
underground matches allowed her to not have to work so she could focus on
school.
Twenty
minutes later she was pulling into the building that held the match. This time
it was in the basement of a dry cleaning factory. The bay doors were open. She
could see the workers inside, but she’d be going through the back entrance.
After
cutting the engine and getting out of the car, she rushed through the lot,
around to the back of the building, and once the man at the door let her in,
she made her way down the stairs to the bowels of the building. She heard the
chanting, the screams, could even smell the aggression and excitement in the
air.
Stepping
onto the platform that overlooked the very lower level of the factory, she
could see the makeshift boxing ring set up, and the people crammed around it.
Their hands were in the air, their excitement tangible. Instantly Lyric felt
her heart start to beat faster, felt everything in her come alive as the
scents, sights, and the very air charged her.
She
made her way down to the main floor, and as soon as she got there Hector, one
of the regular bouncers that stayed at these fights, was beside her.
“He’s
been asking for you,” Hector said loudly, trying to be heard over the noise.
“I
know. I ran late,” Lyric responded, knowing Landon was probably worried about
where she’d been. To say Landon was protective of her was an understatement,
but she liked that, loved that her man was so possessive of her.
Hector
pushed people out of their way as he led her toward the corner of the room.
There were a few rooms she could see, ones that were probably mainly for storage,
but tonight they’d allow the fighters to prepare in semi-peace. Hector pounded on the door three times. It
was swung open by another burly looking guy, and when he saw her he stepped
aside. She saw Landon sitting in the center of the room, a guy wrapping his
hands before he’d slip and tie the gloves on.
Landon
saw her and pulled out his earbuds. Even though there was loud chanting and
screaming just behind the doors and walls, she could hear the angry music
blaring from Landon’s headphones. “Fuck, baby, I’ve been trying to get a hold
of you,” Landon said, the worry clear in his voice.
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