Love for the Luchador (A Modern Romance) by Mallory Sterling Page A

had gone to college and graduated with a degree in Journalism at
the local University. She had even gotten a job with the local paper writing community
pieces, and had insisted – despite her parents wishes – on moving into her own
small apartment. She loved it here, and while her career could be moving faster
and her dating options left much to be desired, life was good.
    She
passed through the mixture of poor and rich, dressed in fine suits and in
secondhand jeans. She walked through slums and new construction, all connected
by the passageways, roads, and markets that tied the city together. Midnight
Mass was over and parties were winding down, and a few couples and families
could be seen making their way home through streets of houses with empty soda
bottles sitting on the front steps. There were few people out compared to the
crowds during the day, but the energy of the city on nights like this still
reminded her how much she loved this place, how much she loved the holidays.
    She even
passed a young man dressed in a gaudy Santa Claus hat and a huge, fake white
beard. She couldn't help but chuckle when he said, " Feliz Navidad! Ho!
Ho! Ho!" The laugh caught in her throat when she felt the gun in her back and
the hand at her neck. "Walk into that alley, puta! Do not make a fucking
sound!"
    Her mind
screamed at her. DO SOMETHING! RUN! FIGHT! SCREAM!
    She had
never been robbed before, she had never felt the jab of a cold barrel in her
back before. María tried to will herself into action, any kind of action, but
she couldn't. A sense of helplessness washed over her, her heart pounding in
her chest and her skin growing clammy. A tear traced a path down her cheek as
she slowly and silently walked into the unlit alley.
    "Purse,"
the bandito demanded. She handed it over without resistance. He dug
through it, leafing through a fold of bills. "You live close to here, bitch?"
    She
nodded, blood and adrenaline pumping hard through her body, making her motions
jerky. "Well, we're going to go to your house for the rest of it, and your
jewelry. Then we will see what else I want to do with you."
    Suddenly
a clear voice rang out, powerful and true. "Let the señorita go, amigo ."
    The
mugger turned to face the figure standing in the alley entrance. He stood
nearly two meters in height, a wall of muscle in a casual linen suit. He would
have been an imposing figure even without the intricate green and red mask
covering his face, but with it he looked like a giant, hellish imp.
    The
criminal didn't have the luchador's size, but he leveled his gun at the masked
man without hesitation. "What are you? Some type of fucking ugly freak? Get the
fuck out of here!"
    The
luchador began walking forward, almost casually closing the distance.
"Unfortunately for you, my friend, I cannot do that."
    With the
grace of the wind, he leapt forward. María shrieked and covered her head when
the gun went off, momentarily deafening her. When she opened her eyes, she saw
that her savior had the mugger's arm locked tightly against him. With a twist,
the pistol clattered to the ground and the mugger's arm flailed impotently.
There was a sickening pop and the bandito screamed in pain as his
shoulder was wrenched out of socket.
    The
luchador held the blubbering man upright, ignoring the tears and curses while
he investigated the criminal's pockets. He pulled out a wallet and dropped the criminal
to the ground where he crumpled into a heap.
    He turned
to María. " Señorita , are you okay?"
    She
nodded, still shocked, and stammered, "I... I think so."
    "Then I
beg you, give me one moment," he said as he dug through the thief's wallet,
pulling out an identification card.
    The
luchador turned back to the thug. "Miguel Rodrigo Hernandez De La Vega," he
started, "I know where you live. You will apologize and you will go confess
your sins. You will turn your life around. If you tell anyone but God about
this, or return to a life of crime, I will not be as merciful as