Vigilant (11 page)

“Sure you can’t come with me on Friday?” Ari asked. She’d spent the last thirty minutes alternately kissing Nick and trying to convince him into going to the fight at the GYC with her.

Nick pushed a wisp of flyaway hair over her ear and said, “I wish I could, but I promised my mother I’d help her move some furniture.”

“Doting son, eh?”

“Total mama’s boy. I can’t even deny it,” he laughed. “Why are you going to this again?”

“The director asked me to come to the fight. And I told Curtis I would be there.”

Nick touched her chin with his thumb, holding her gaze. “It’s okay to take a night off, you know. These kids will survive if you miss an activity.”

“Honestly, I’m interested to see how it all works. I suspect it’s a glorified fight club.” This wasn’t just a suspicion, it was a fear. Ari had a feeling she’d probably end up reporting the program for inappropriate conduct. She wanted to see it for herself.

“Hey Ari, come here!” Oliver called from his seat near the bar. Nick gave Ari a fast kiss before spinning her toward the seating area. Oliver showed up with Veronica again. Rebecca and some other girls sat together. All of them were looking up at the television screen.

“What’s up?” Ari asked, moving next to Oliver.

He gestured his beer bottle at the screen. “There’s your boy. Back in action.”

On the television, a reporter stood outside a fast food restaurant surrounded by police tape. In the corner was the same photo as last time, the word “Vigilante” stamped across the top.

The mystery man.

Or her mystery man as she’d begun calling him. He was her other obsession. She’d kept an ear out for any information about him since the package had been delivered to her office. He’d been scarce. Until now.

“Where is that?” she asked.

“Burlington Road,” Veronica said. “Seems like some kid tried to rob the store and had everyone held hostage in the back. That guy, the Vigilante, came in and stopped it.”

“Shhh,” Nick said from behind her. She felt his fingers on her hip.

Ari looked back at the television and the reporter held a microphone out to an older woman with curly blonde hair in her Chicken Shack uniform. “The kid came in yelling and cursing. I was working the fry station. He came around the counter and made all of us go in the back. He wanted in the safe even though it’s on a timer. Not even Jim,” she paused, her eyes wide and nervous, “the manager can open it until it’s time. Nikki was crying and he hit her—that’s when the other guy came in. I thought it was another robber but he jumped over the counter and told the robber to stop before someone got hurt.”

“So the Vigilante accosted the robber?”

“Yep. The robber held his gun up to him and the Vigilante kicked the gun out of his hand and got him down on the ground. He told all of us to get out, and we did. I wasn’t hanging around to see what happened.”

“What did the Vigilante look like?”

“I don’t know. It all happened so fast. Plus his hood covered half of his face.”

“Was he tall? Short?” The reporter looked at the camera. “Any description you can give now can help the police find this man.”

“Why would I want to help the police find him?” she asked, incredulously. “He saved my ass and everyone else in that restaurant.”

“What would you do then if you saw him again?”

“I’d give him a big hug. He’s a hero.”

The camera cut to the next story and Ari looked way from the screen. Oliver gave her a drunken smile. “Uh oh, your superhero-boyfriend saved someone else.”

Ari narrowed her eyes. “Oliver, you’re drunk. Shut it.”

“What’s he talking about?” Nick asked.

“Nothing. I’ve just been following this guy—the crazy vigilante. It’s kind of like Glory City has our own superhero.”

Nick frowned. “I wouldn’t really call that guy a superhero. He really should leave situations like that to the professionals.”

“Yeah! He should totally leave it to the cops, you know, because they’re so awesome at catching the bad guys and stuff,” Oliver piped in. “But you guys stick together, right?” Veronica saw the look on Ari’s face and pulled him toward her. Good thing, since Ari was one second from smacking his obnoxious grin off.

Nick stood behind Ari and she reached around him for her jacket. “I’ve got a meeting first thing in the morning, so I really should go.”

Nick grabbed his own coat and followed her out the door. When they got outside, he stopped her. “You aren’t mad at what I said back there are you?”

“Nah, not mad. Just tired, and Oliver’s an obnoxious drunk.” Nick put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. She nuzzled into his warm arms.

“I guess I’ll see you next week?” Ari asked.

“Yeah, I’ll probably get home from my parents’ late Sunday. I’ll give you a call.”

“Have a good trip.”

“Be safe at that fight—and steer clear of all superheroes okay? I can’t compete against that.”

Ari smiled. “So that’s it. You’re jealous.”

“Of a guy who may wear tights and probably, most definitely, has abs of steel? Yes.”

Ari reached for his face and pulled him close, “Jealousy makes you kind of cute.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep,” she said and gave him a kiss goodnight.

* * *

The last thing Ari expected to see when she walked to her car the next morning was a patrol car, idling by the curb. Officer Baker waved from his rolled-down window. Ari locked the front door and walked down the driveway.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Just wanted you to know there was another armed robbery last night. Similar M.O. as the last time. It’s possible Jace Watkins was there.”

“Is this the one all over the news? I saw that. But didn’t they catch everyone?”

“Nope. Different robbery, but it happened around the same time. This crew got in and out quickly. They didn’t waste time on the safe, which is what held them up at the hardware store. The leader—he matches the description we have on Jace. Hopefully, we’ll have some security footage to look through.”

Yeah, that and a hooded vigilante, Ari thought. “So why are you telling me this?”

“Because it happened at The Garage.”

“That’s just down the street—I was there last night.”

“It happened about an hour after closing. We asked for a list of customers for possible witnesses and you were on it. Probably a coincidence, but I wanted to let you know. This kid is around too much—and he’s from your office, the hardware store, and now the bar. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Ms. Grant, give me a call if anything suspicious happens, okay? Any other break-ins or vandalism—anything suspicious.”

“Of course,” she told him. “But I doubt it’s him. You know these kids are poor planners. They’re too impulsive. The car thing—sure. The robberies? Must be a fluke.”

“I hope so,” he said. His walkie-talkie crackled on his shoulder and he responded immediately. “Talk to you soon.” He rolled up his window and drove off, leaving Ari in the driveway alone.

ELEVEN

“I can’t believe you brought me here,” Oliver said over the shouts and cheers. He looked like a kid in a candy shop. “It’s not even my birthday.”

“I had a feeling you’d enjoy it,” Ari yelled back.

The whole gym vibrated with excitement, like with any other sporting event. The bleachers were full of spectators, drinking and eating. They’d passed a snack bar in the lobby selling candy and sodas. Much to Oliver’s dismay, it was alcohol free, but they got two huge sugary sodas and bags of popcorn. An event was already in progress when they’d arrived. Two young men circled one another in the ring, doing some kind of martial arts.

Ari and Oliver came around the corner and tried to find an empty seat. There were several rings and bleachers lining the walls so you could see more than one event at a time. The center ring in particular seemed to be the main one, though. Built a little higher, with brighter lights. Oliver pointed to a couple of empty seats at the top of one of the bleachers.

“Ms. Grant?”

Ari turned at her name. A man she’d never seen before stood in front of them and smiled. He was handsome, with dark skin and deep brown eyes. Ari tried, and failed, to keep her eyes from his incredibly ripped biceps. “I’m Boyd. Davis was hoping you’d come.”

“I told him I would.” Ari caught Boyd’s glance at Oliver. “Oh, this is my friend, Oliver. I thought he’d enjoy the fights. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course,” he said. “Davis saved you some seats.”

“Oh, that’s not necess—”

“Thanks!” Oliver said, pushing past Ari. “Show us the way.”

Ari followed the men, half listening while Oliver peppered Boyd with questions about the fights.

“Each ring will have a series of preliminary fights for future events. Boxing is over there,” he pointed to a ring near the far wall. “Wrestling and martial arts are in those two.”

“What’s in the main one?” Oliver asked.

“The top two fighters from these two centers will be in that ring. It’s more of an ultimate-fighting method.”

“What does that mean?” Ari asked.

“You’ll see.”

Oliver jumped in. “So this happens often enough for them to have rankings.”

“Yep. Tonight is the finals. Each kid will only have three events, maximum. But the center-ring fight is the main event. Those boys will only have the one fight. They’re looking to win that.” Boyd pointed to a huge trophy near an announcer’s booth, built into a loft area over the gym. Ari hadn’t noticed it thanks to the noise and crowd. She thought she saw Davis duck down, speaking to someone, and she had a feeling of déjà vu. But in her memory he was between her legs. Naked.

Oh boy.

“Here you go,” Boyd said, ushering them into a less crowded, center-row seat over the main ring. They had perfect views of the other rings as well. “Davis wanted you to know Curtis will be in an exhibition fight in ring three during the first round.”

“Already? Is he ready to do that?”

Boyd laughed. “I’m sure we’ll find out.”

“Thanks, man,” Oliver said, offering him his hand.

Ari also said, “Thank you.”

“No problem. Enjoy the contests.”

Ari and Oliver sat down. According to the scoreboard, the fight going on at that moment wasn’t a fight at all, but some kind of martial arts presentation. The boys completed their showing and bowed to one another, prompting the crowd to clap. Ari had no idea what to expect next, but she wasn’t exactly surprised when Davis appeared in the center ring with a microphone. He wasn’t in his standard T-shirt and jeans that night. Instead, he wore a crisp, black button-down shirt and black dress pants. Davis had that fit look achieved through intense workouts. Slim but built, his muscles pulled at the fabric of his shirt, even though it fit perfectly. Now that she knew what he looked like under those clothes, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Physically, he was perfect. It didn’t help that he excelled as a lover. She tried to focus on anything else. His hair was freshly shaved, the lights shining off his head. His smile genuine. His mouth…

“Thank you all for coming tonight,” Davis began, interrupting her wandering mind. “We have several exciting fights this evening leading up to the main event between Jordan and Alvarez, ranked #6 and #2 in the region, respectively. Remember the proceeds from the tickets and concessions go back into our program so that we can continue to provide this opportunity to under-privileged youth all over the metro area. Please help us welcome our opponents from the city of Piedmont!”

The crowd cheered in welcome and Davis slipped out of the ring without notice. A loud bell rang and Ari’s attention focused on the teenage boys filing into the gym who had stopped to sit on benches around each of the rings. Peter followed them in, nodding to whom Ari suspected was the other coach. Although the boys wore warm-up suits, several immediately began removing them and revealing their team uniforms. The GYC boys wore white tanks with black, shiny shorts. The Piedmont team wore black tanks with red shorts.

“I’m still not convinced this is a good idea,” Ari said, watching Curtis remove his cover-up and lay it neatly on the bench.

“What’s the big deal?” Oliver asked. He had a mouthful of popcorn. “It’s organized sports—juvie style. You and I both know they’d never make it on a traditional team.”

“I guess,” she said, diverting her attention to the fight that was about to happen. Curtis had just lowered himself under the ropes and entered the ring. He had on his gloves and helmet. He was in the boxing arena, which sounded a lot better than ultimate fighting. “It just feels like some kind of forced situation. He didn’t really have a choice, and now he’s been tossed in the middle of the lion’s den.”

Ari had seen Curtis the prior week but she could have sworn he’d already gained some muscle. His long, thin arms seemed a tad bulkier and she pointed this out to Oliver as the boy jumped around the ring, moving his arms back and forth, warming up.

“Working out seven days a week for two weeks should make some changes,” he said. “Not to mention a healthy diet.” They watched the two boys, the other shorter, but thicker with short, curly blond hair, shake hands. The referee raised his hand and a buzzer sounded, starting the fight.

More than once, Ari winced as the boys landed blows. Despite the difference in size, they were evenly matched. The boy from Piedmont caught Curtis off-guard more than once but Curtis had speed on this side. He was quick and agile.

“You’re right,” Oliver said, after letting out a loud whoop at the end of round one. “He’s definitely fast.”

Seeing Curtis hold his own made Ari feel better and as they watched each round, she found herself on the edge of her seat, cheering with the rest of the crowd. Curtis’s speed helped him outlast his opponent, and he landed two hard punches against the boy’s black tank, before cutting under his chin, knocking him to the ground.

The referee blew his whistle, calling the fight, and held Curtis’s hand up in victory. He pulled off his mask and mouth guard and smiled at the crowd, all of them cheering for his win. The look of accomplishment on his face was enough for Ari to concede.

“Fine,” she said, knocking Oliver on the shoulder. “Maybe this isn’t the worst thing to happen for him.”