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

He." The luchador
bent down, looking the sobbing man in the eyes. "Now apologize to this woman
and never been seen like this again."
    The young
man lay on the ground, sniveling like a child, cradling his shoulder as the
luchador picked up the dropped pistol. What looked so large and intimidating
only moments earlier, now looked like no more than a child's day, dwarfed by
the luchador's giant hand. He put the gun in his jacket pocket and leaned close
to the bandito . "I SAID APOLOGIZE!"
    Between
sobs, the young thief whimpered, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I didn't... I had to..."
    "Do not
make excuses, Miguel Rodrigo Hernandez De La Vega! Remember this night. Your
body will heal, but only living a life of righteousness will heal your soul...
and save you from me. There is no other way."
    Finally,
he turned back to the frightened young woman.
    " Señorita ,
I apologize for the state of this city. It is not right. Are you injured?"
    She was
still trying to wrap her mind around what had just happened. "No... thanks to
you, no... I... I don't know what would have happened..."
    "If it is
acceptable to you," he said, reaching out a hand, "I will escort you home."
    It felt
like a dream as they walked hand in hand through the city. It did not take much
longer to reach her door, but in her daze it felt like an eternity. His voice
soothed her nerves, and while they walked he made one-sided small talk about
the holidays, the news, and how much he loves Mexico despite its problems.
    She still
felt as if in a dream when they arrived at her humble apartment. "Thank you.
Can I do anything to repay you...Luchador?"
    "That
will not be necessary, but it has been an exciting night. I would be most
grateful for a glass of water to quench my thirst."
    "It would
be my pleasure. Please, come in for a moment," she said as she opened the door
and led him inside her small apartment. "You will have to excuse me, I was not
expecting company. Please, sit on the couch."
    When she
had returned from the kitchen with the glass of water, she saw her cat curled
up on the man's lap. "Ah, I see you have met Pepito."
    "Yes, he
is quite sweet." He smiled as he took the glass, raising it to the mouth slit
of his mask and drinking deeply.
    " Señor ,
you can take your mask off."
    "I am
sorry, but I cannot," he said, pausing to finish off his drink. "And now, I
must go."
    He gently
shooed Pepito away and went to the door, ready to walk out of her life as
mysteriously as he walked into it.
    "Wait,"
she blurted. Her mind raced with possibilities. She didn't want him to leave,
and while she was by no means a virginal flower, she would never normally do
something like this. Not so soon, not with a stranger, but tonight..."You...you can
stay here, with me."
    He
stepped close to her and took her hands in his, his large figure throwing a
shadow over her. She didn't feel the least bit threatened. In fact, she had
never felt as safe as she did in that moment, so close to this gentle, powerful
man. She looked deep into compassionate brown eyes. She would never forget
those eyes, and she saw a wistfulness in them when he said, "Alas, I am sorry
to turn down such a beautiful woman, but I cannot stay. It would not be right."
He raised one hand and gently stroked her face, then placed a light kiss upon
her forehead before turning to leave. "Stay safe, señorita ."
    "María."
    He paused
and turned.
    "My name
is María. María Peña."
    His lips
formed a smile, barely visible through the mask, and he nodded. "Stay safe,
María Peña."
    Then he
walked out her door and into the night.
    She
couldn't sleep that night. Her head was still spinning and her emotions still
swirling, with one question she couldn't get out of her mind. "Who is he?"
    Who is
that brave man, willing to charge a drawn gun to save a stranger? A man whose
muscled arms defeated the threat with ease. A man with manners and grace from
another time, who led her home like a knight escorting a princess.
    Suddenly,
another