The Mistress of Black Grove Manor (87 page)

              As Kazuma breezed out of the gym, he heard a high-pitched wailing noise followed by a loud smack. Figuring it was nothing, he continued on his way. His bag was heavy and filled with equipment. His limbs were sore from overworking his body, and all he wanted to do was lie down in his bed and take a nap. He neared his car, which was parked in the rear parking lot, under a grove of palm trees. It was warm out, and a light rain had begun. Just as Kazuma reached for his keys to unlock his car, he heard the sound of a woman crying. It was definitely the same voice as before, which worried him. Deciding to inspect the noise, he tossed his bag in his car and walked towards the alleyway.

              There he saw a man and woman having an argument against the brick wall. The man had his hand around the woman’s throat and she was struggling to get his fingers off her.

              “Hey,” Kazuma said, stepping forward. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

              To his surprise, the man let go of his girlfriend. But he left his hand on her chest, forcing her to remain again the wall.

              “Listen buddy, I was just having a conversation with my girlfriend. This has nothing to do with you. Now why don’t you just head off on your merry way?”

              “I’m not leaving until you get your hands off her,” Kazuma said. He’d never entered into a civilian dispute before. All the fights he’d had were in the arena, and were scheduled by his coach. He was warned against these types of situations, and knew that it would only result in chaos for him. But it didn’t matter. The woman in front of him seemed to be in honest distress, and she even had a bright pink mark on her cheek from when he’d slapped her.

              “I’m not going to ask you again,” Kazuma said. He was wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a black tank top. His hair was dark and flopped over his face. Kazuma’s skin was tan, and his arms were tawny and muscular. Visible through his shirt was his six-pack. He wasn’t a force to be reckoned with, but that didn’t mean everyone was going to listen. The man in front of him clearly didn’t care. He looked enraged at having been interrupted. But what would have happened to the woman if Kazuma hadn’t stepped in?

              He shuddered at the thought. The man in front of him finally took his hand off his girlfriend and proceeded to ball up his hands in messy fists. Kazuma raised an eyebrow and nodded at the other man’s stance.

              “That’s not how you fight.”

              “What are you talking about? Who taught you to fight, your mother?”

              “You do not wanna say that to me,” Kazuma said.

              “Or what?”

              Kazuma cracked his neck loudly to the left and the right. Without giving it a second thought he shifted into a fighting stance and gave the stranger a hard blow to the face. He hit him square in the cheek, causing the man to stumble and fold in half, clutching his face. Next to him, the woman cowered in fear. She was no longer whimpering but she didn’t seem happy to see the two men fighting.

              “This is your last chance to walk away,” Kazuma said.

              The man squared his shoulders and spit blood onto the asphalt. “No way, I’m not backing down. You need to stay away from me and my bitch.”

              Kazuma stepped forward swiftly and grabbed the man by his collar. He lifted him a few inches off the ground and lowered his voice.

              “Don’t you dare call her that again. You hear me? Or I will come for you and when I find you you’ll regret ever having messed with someone like me. Now apologize.”

              The man narrowed his eyes and spit on Kazuma.

              “Okay,” he said sarcastically, throwing the man harshly to the pavement. “Are you okay?” he asked, nodding at the pretty blonde.

              “Thank you,” she said. They stared at each other in the dim streetlight, sizing one another up. She had thick blonde hair that fell in waves around her full-moon face. Her cheeks were high and her eyes were large and dark. She was tall and slim, like Kazuma. Her eyes traveled from his face towards his neck and the rippling muscles of his arms.

              “What’s your name?” she asked.

              Instead of answering her he turned around and walked away. This was her mess and it wasn’t best to get involved. He’d already beaten the hell out of her boyfriend, leaving him with a twisted ankle and a bruised face. She was beautiful, of course, possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. If he were honest with himself, she reminded him a lot of Jane.

              Back in high school, Kazuma fell in love with an older woman named Jane. She was his mother’s friend, a drop-dead gorgeous forty year old with dark blonde hair. She always smelled like warm sand and had a gravely voice from smoking too many cigarettes. When Kazuma was younger, he would catch Jane staring at him from across the table. Surprisingly enough, his mother never found out they slept together.

              Jane and Kazuma spent an entire summer together before his senior year. She invited him to his apartment on the premise of mowing the lawn, which quickly turned into a passionate lovemaking session on the back porch. She’d moved the following winter, not giving word as to why or where she went. His mother was frustrated and angry that her only best friend had disappeared but Kazuma knew better. She’d fallen in love but realized she couldn’t date a seventeen year old.

              Now twenty-five, Kazuma wasn’t that same kid anymore. He was a fighter, someone who wouldn’t back down no matter how much he was warned. This woman that he had saved was beautiful, and definitely a few years older than him. But it wasn’t his place.

              He hopped in his car and drove off towards his house, blasting the radio with the windows rolled down. At a stoplight, Kazuma lit a cigarette and blew smoke rings at his dashboard. It was a habit he’d kicked a while ago, and only smoked on nights when he was really stressed out. It hindered his lungs and affected his ability to fight. Plus he preferred hard liquor to smoking.

              When he got to his house, he noticed a small alligator hanging out on the front lawn.

              “Figures,” Kazuma said, spitting onto the driveway. He honked the horn once, loudly, scaring the creature off. His house was located close to marshland and he was always finding strange creatures meandering about his lawn. Just the other day he saw a crane swooping through his backyard, its mouth wide open to consume the mayflies and love bugs.

              The house was brightly lit from the inside, which made Kazuma feel less alone. He hadn’t dated in a while, and it got lonely living alone. In fact, he’d been sleeping around since before he could remember. His last serious relationship was with Jane.

              The inside of his house was covered in aging wooden paneling and dusty French doors. He enjoyed cooking, and kept his kitchen well stocked with meat and spices. There was a ratty green couch in the living room and he slept on a king-sized bed in his bedroom. He made money from fighting, and it fueled and funded every aspect of his life. If it weren’t for the arena, he’d have nothing. Fighting was all he knew.

              Without realizing it, Kazuma had dropped his bags and started hitting the black punching bag in the living room. He had residual anger from beating up that stranger, and needed to take it out on something other than himself. If it weren’t for the doorbell ringing, he never would have noticed someone was trying to get his attention.

              “Yeah?” he called out in his deep voice, continuing to punch the bag when they didn’t respond. He sighed loudly, stormed towards the door, yanked it open and gasped. It was the pretty blonde from the alleyway.

              “What are you doing here?” he asked. “How did you find me?”

              He realized one of her eyes was swollen and purple. Her boyfriend had hurt her again.             

              “I followed you,” she said in a weak voice.

     “Come in, please.” He held the door wide open and watched as she gingerly stepped across the threshold.

Chapter 2

              Ally stepped over the threshold, carful not to brush against the stranger. She hadn’t meant to follow him home but the second he walked away her ex had stood up and punched her straight in the right eye. The walk towards her car had been difficult, and she felt slightly woozy. One thing she noticed was that the stranger drove a dark red car with a silver dragon symbol on the back. She decided to follow the dragon, not sure where it would lead her. When he finally parked outside of his house, she waited a few minutes, curious as to why he was honking his horn randomly.

              It took all the courage and strength she had left to knock on his door. She hadn’t wanted to impose, and knew it was weird that she had followed him, but she had no other choice. Her family members had given up on her because of he relationship with John. He was both physically and emotionally abusive and no one knew why she stayed with him. They had no idea that she’d quit her job and that he was supporting her financially. He was also a fighter, but fought on the opposite side of town.

              All Ally knew was that some nights he would come home covered in cuts and bruises but he would drop a wad of cash on their living room table and all the bills would be paid. She never went to any of his matches and ignored where the money came from. Part of her always suspected that he was into dealing drugs and made some extra cash on the side because of that. She feared for her life and for her safety on a daily basis. All she could think of was getting arrested or getting murdered. Being with John was unstable and terrifying. She needed a new place to call home. But would the stranger dressed in all black be able to help her?

              “Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?” he asked, motioning for her to sit in the kitchen. She took a seat in front of the island and placed her head in her hands.

              “That would be nice, thank you.”

              He turned his back to her and began humming as he grabbed shiny boxes of tea out of the cabinet. For such a gruff man, she didn’t expect him to be a tea drinker.

              He placed each of the boxes carefully in front of her, as if she was a small child and he was bringing her gifts. She pointed at the bright pink ceramic box, which was filled with passion fruit tea.

              “Passion fruit it is,” he said, placing a pot on the oven to boil.

              “You know you still haven’t told me you name.”

              “Well what’s your name?”

              “Ally. Short for Allison. And you?”

              “Kazuma,” he replied. After a pause he said, “So where’s that asshole of you?”

              “Who, John? He’s probably off somewhere drinking with his asinine friends.”

              “You know he’s horrible to you, right?”

              Ally clasped and unclasped her hands. It was nice that this stranger was helping her out but she didn’t exactly want to explain herself. The story with John was long and complicated and even she barely understood it.

              “I don’t really want to talk about it,” she said.

              “Okay,” he responded. “But if I find out he hurt you again like that I’ll kill him.”

              She blushed, not knowing how they got on that intimate a level. There was no way they would see each other again after that night, was there? Part of her longed to get closer to this handsome stranger, to learn more about him and how exactly he knew how to fight. John claimed to know how to fight but he barely threw a punch back there.

              “Here,” he said, startling her. He handed her a bright blue ice pack. When she didn’t respond at first he said, “It’s for your eye.”

              “Thanks.”

              It startled Ally that Kazuma was so kind. Her life had never been easy and she’d always been treated like a doormat by her friends and family. When she was younger, her mother used to berate her about her weight. Though Ally had eventually gotten older and shed all her baby fat, it didn’t stop her from thinking back on the times her mother would grab her stomach and berate her for being the size she was. For a solid year she became anorexic and vowed only to start eating again when she lost all the weight. She was beautiful her senior year of high school, and envied by all the girls as she was wanted by all the boys. The problem was that Ally couldn’t find a man who would treat her right.

              Her first boyfriend was named Tommy and rumor had it he was only dating Ally because she was attractive. He told all his friends that he only dated her because she had lost the weight and that he knew he could coax her into giving him a blowjob. This resulted in a busied home from an away football game and Ally scuffing up her knees in the back of the bus while the other boys watched. They called her easy afterward, and the girls branded her as a slut. It hardened her heart and turned her into a completely different person. She no longer knew how to trust people and believed everyone had it out to get her.