Knockout! A Passionate Police Romance (26 page)

He toweled her body tenderly and returned to the bed where they knelt facing each other. The Cartier diamond still sparkled on its chain between her breasts. He unhooked the clasp and held the ring.

“Few men get the chance to live their happiest moment twice.” He smiled, slipping the platinum band back onto her finger. Her lips called him to kiss her as they lay back and entwined in the warmth of a deep love that was beyond the physical joy of sex.

She felt the growing tension of her body. His head lay on the pillow, angled down to draw her nipple into his mouth. His hand stroked tenderly between her thighs as her juices responded to his growing need for her.

In a gentle choreography of mutual longing he moved inside her and softly they abandoned their own selves into a single point of ecstasy.

Too soon, too soon the turning world out-roared the peace of lovers and he rose to go. She knew that this would be the last time she would really see him until it was over. She watched him move around the room. Her tears fell softly. Perhaps the lovers of gladiators in ancient Rome had known such partings. Perhaps they had felt the same awful sorrow mixed with pride. His lips came to hers for one last time and he was gone. For now she would live as a mask hiding an empty shell. Her life was gone. Her man had taken it and held it in no more and no less than his fist.

The days were a blur. She shopped with Linda, choosing and un-choosing fight night outfits. She posed for photos, talked to Time magazine and National Enquirer. She went to the Monterey police department for a video conference with Christine Jones. It had been a brief release from the tension. Christine was to be Baroness Jones of Streatham - the place where she had once been the Blue Witch. The tough old girl deserved her celebrity and her place in the sun. What had she known of love? What ache was in her soul? Was it that same ache that had dulled all her joys until she had met Freddie?

The American Airlines staff on the New York flight out of San Francisco poured champagne and asked for signed photos of Freddie that Linda carried in her executive briefcase. To her it was business. Routine!

They conspired not to talk of the fight yet Anna thought of nothing else. She heard the braying mob chanting for Brennan to attack. She re-ran all those magazine shots of fighters with their swollen faces pouring blood. A few times Linda reached for her in a silent hug or the squeeze of her hand.

“Just think of all those wives, mothers and sweethearts with loved ones away in the military Honey. They’ve got no wealth or fame.” She said plainly.

The yellow cabs and the manic streets of New York seemed unreal. The Park-View suite at the Ritz Carlton on Central Park South offered unbelievable opulence and splendor. Liveried drivers of horse drawn carriages awaited custom. She toured the park in an open landau with Linda and yet she could have been anywhere, could have been anyone, could have eaten caviar or a hot dog and not known the difference. They stayed away from him. Linda said time and time again that he was in a zone where no one except his trainer and a couple of corner men could follow. The papers showed a picture from the weigh-in. Brennan was ugly and pointing, making threats and pumping himself up. Freddie looked calm and deadly serious. The whole show was hyped as the home town hero against the foreign Frenchman. Often Linda chuckled since a lot of the copy was planted by her.

The day came. A limo collected them from the hotel and took the slow prowl to Madison Square Garden. The show had already started with a bill of lesser fights. The main event was scheduled for nine o’clock when the guys had their beer and had watched the car commercials. She had dressed in a red silk knee length wrap over dress with killer heels and a black double breasted wool coat.

A riot of photographers snapped at all the arriving limos. A few called her name. She had become a bit of a celebrity in her own right. The chat show offers rolled in. In any other life it would have been wonderful. But not in her life. She lived through a lump in her throat and the ever present prick of tears behind her eyes. Perhaps she was not made to love? Perhaps she loved too much? She longed to be with him. She knew she could not.

A mob of security guys led them through a maze of corridors. At last they reached a crowd of big men in evening suits who all looked like boxers. Seeing the two women they edged aside until Anna found herself at a dressing room door guarded by no one other than Agent John Mayer.

“He’s asked to see you Anna.” He shouted above the hubbub. She glanced questioningly at Linda.

“At this point he’s the boss. You’ve only got a couple of minutes.”

She entered the room, surprised by the calm silence. He was sitting on a treatment table gloved up and wrapped in his ring gown. She could tell he was focused. A coil of passion, pride and anger was set in his face. He knew what he had to do. He knew what was at stake. She wanted to talk of love but nothing must soften him now. She longed to rest a tender hand on his face.

“Show me your finger.” He said firmly.

She held out her hand, displaying the sparkling diamond ring. He nodded approval.

“You are mine Anna. In a few minutes our lives together can begin. I must do something that my soul rebels against. You are my strength.”

She held back her urge to go to him. Suddenly the room filled with men and he was swept away, shadow boxing and bouncing his way to the ring.

“Aren’t you going ringside?” Asked John Mayer, joining her on the treatment table.

“I couldn’t...”

“Me neither.”

“Did you place a bet?”

“Just about everything and a bit more Anna. I believe in that guy.”

She was too numb to respond.

He jumped up and switched on a TV set on the wall. Two commentators were talking excitedly. Her heart raced. Her mouth was dry. She glanced at the screen. The fighters were in the middle of the ring. She heard the referee.

“I wanna clean fight. Break when I say break. Touch gloves and come out fighting.”

A bell rang. A crowd of one hundred thousand yelled. She could not bear to watch but the commentary continued uninvited.

“La Salle looks in great shape - he comes straight to the center of the ring - he’ll be looking for a steady start - Brennan’s looking to come straight inside - La Salle stands his ground - this is unusual - he pushes Brennan back and follows it with a sharp jab to the body - Brennan doesn’t like that - he rushes in but La Salle keeps the center of the ring. Brennan’s gonna have to soak up some jabs to get in close. La Salle drops his gloves and dances away, teasing the New York boy. This is not the regular La Salle folks - this guy is not a puncher - this is gonna be interesting!”

The commentator’s voice rose to a shout. The crowd bayed like one huge beast.

“Brennan rushes in, La Salle jabs but Brennan dips his shoulder and throws a right cross. La Salle’s head snaps back - he’s hurt but on his feet. Brennan storms in for the kill - he thinks he’s got him - this is sensational folks! La Salle seems dazed, he leads out with a straight right hand but has no power - Brennan sets himself up for the big one!”

Anna flicked her eyes up to the screen. She could see blood on Freddie’s mouth. The crowd was screaming “Bih-lee Bih-lee”.The commentator reached new heights -

“La Salle bounces again - he drops his gloves taunting the challenger - Brennan needs to keep his cool here - La Salle is not champion of the world for nothing. He’s taken Brennan’s best shot and he’s back on his toes. Brennan tries to come inside - throws the right cross again- misses by a mile - he’s off balance- - La Salle throws a vicious left hook! What a punch! Oh my Lord - what a punch. Brennan is on the floor! He’s not moving - The referee pushes La Salle away - the medics are rushing in to the ring. It’s over Ladies and Gentleman... the fight is over.”

The screen showed Brennan slowly starting to move. Action replays of the punch turned in slow motion. Anna watched in disbelief. The punch had hit Brennan like a train. So this was the knockout punch that had killed Ramon Gomez - the punch that he could never throw. Suddenly she is being spun round by Agent Mayer.

“My kids are going Yale!” He bellowed tears of joy coursing down his face. “I put the house and every cent on him to win by a first round knock - down. I got 40 to 1. It was his only hope - he knew that. The guy’s a God.”

He pulled her by the arm out in the arena. A giant screen was showing shots of Freddie in Brennan’s corner hugging the loser who was back on his feet. The MC bawled out the result while the referee raised Freddie’s arm.

“The winner by a knockout and still champion of the world... out of Paris France... Frrrrrreddie... Le Professeur... Laaaaaa... Salle!!!”

A disappointed crowd still cheered in recognition of his awesome power.

Somehow she was swept along and lifted to the ring. Linda was giving an interview. Then she was in his arms. His heat and sweat overwhelmed her.

“That life is over Anna. I have so many plans for us.” She reached out and pressed her fingers to a gash on his lip.

“They may have already started.” She smiled as his blood trickled onto her fingers.

“I love you Anna.” He said with the warmth once again glowing in his dark eyes.

“And I you.” She replied.

Madame Anna La Salle watched nervously as her toddler Xavier teetered unsteadily across the uneven flagstones of the champagne vineyard farmhouse. Freddie moved behind her, placing his huge warm hand possessively on her belly, restraining her instinct to rush across in case the boy fell.

“Freddie - he’ll fall!”

“And he’ll get up.” He chuckled warmly.

Inevitably he tumbled and rolled over with a giggle. Freddie went to him and picked him up and sat him high on his shoulders.

“Voila - ta mere needs to relax.” He confided to the boy.

“He needs to get cleaned up - your father is arriving.” Anna reminded him.

“And mom too... this is sure some plan of yours.”

“They still love each other. He has dedicated his new collection of poems to her. He will be giving her the first copy tonight after dinner.”

“Did he tell you that himself?”

“No - but you’ll tell him just as soon as he gets here.” She said, reaching out to touch his cheek and kiss his lips.

Fin

Thank you so much for reading this book. I do hope you enjoyed it. If you feel you have time, I would really appreciate a review – on whichever platform you bought this book. If you send me a copy of the review and details of where it is posted (
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Two powerless beings are swept together in a transient struggle for survival. Could the human spirit transcend the brutality and indifference of their brief experience before they are once again swept helplessly apart?

Far more than a love story - this is a story about love.

This book is available in e-book and audiobook formats – purchase the e-book and get the audiobook free by following the instructions at the end of the e-book.

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