Syd Parker - The Killing Ground

She watched him pull on his own gloves. He punched one hand into the other to make sure they were tight then repeated the process on the other hand. “You ready, kiddo?”

Jordan nodded, her feet already dancing on the pad below her. She put her mouth guard in and waited while he did the same.

She watched his eyes, admiration in them. She was cagey and a good boxer to boot. She could feel his respect for her. Their sparring matches usually ended in some well-placed punches on both sides, but more often than not, he could still take her. She thought back to her childhood and wondered if she hadn’t wandered into this very gym twenty years ago, if her life would have taken the same course.

They danced around each other, throwing a few light punches, each feeling out their opponent. In silent agreement, they both raised their gloves and readied for the real match. She moved around him, her left hand resting just in front of her chin protectively. She jabbed with her right, and soon, she had landed several good blows to his ribcage.

He took advantage of her weak left shoulder, a result of a gunshot wound years earlier and took a poke at her unprotected jaw. She wheeled around, stunned momentarily. She shook her head, shaking off the stars.

“Come on, kiddo. Keep your left up. You gotta guard your moneymaker.” He smirked behind his glove, and she felt her blood start to boil. Jordan was competitive by nature, and she hated to lose, especially to someone twenty years her senior, whether she liked him or not.

She brought her shoulders forward. Her eyes narrowed, and she focused on the small opening above his glove. She threw a roundhouse punch to his left ear and smiled when it hit home. His head whipped sideways, and his left hand flew to his ear protectively. She jabbed at his abdomen, and when he bent forward, she threw an uppercut at his chin. He reeled backwards, his hands in front of his face, and she went at him, her fists pummeling him everywhere.

She didn’t mean to be so brutal, but the emotions from the case were flooding to the surface. She wasn’t sure how long her arms jabbed, recoiled and jabbed again, but Tony’s voice finally broke through her haze. “Whoa, whoa, whoa there, kiddo. Take it easy on your old man.”

Jordan stood back and shook her head, dazed. “Sorry, old man.”

He shook it off, waiving a gloved hand dismissively. He stuck his hand under his arm and pulled his glove off then pulled his mouth guard out. “Rough day?”

She smiled sheepishly and held up her gloved hands. “Sorry, they kind of got away from me.”

Tony chuckled. “Wanna talk about it?”

Most times, when he offered, she would share whatever case she was working, and he would offer his opinion. This one she couldn’t talk about. She shook her head. “Nah, just a lot of pent-up energy."

He quirked an eyebrow and smirked at her. “Energy, huh? That's what you’re calling it these days?” He knew her well enough to know that her taste in women was very similar to his and staying tied down to one wasn’t in their blood.

Jordan laughed and wiped a bead of sweat off her forehead. “Guess I just need to get a few more rounds in. You up to it?”

Tony shook his head. “Can’t, kiddo. I got a date tonight.”

“Same girl I heard on the phone? Sorry about dragging you away.”

“Nah.” Now it was his turn to smile sheepishly. “New gal. Met her at my dry cleaners. She puts a hell of a crease in my pants.”

“And now, you would like to see her crease up close?” Jordan teased and was rewarded with a laugh.

“Something like that.” Tony pulled his second glove off and slapped them together on his leg. “Listen, kiddo, I’ve known you a few years now, and I can tell when something’s up your craw. If you decide you want to talk about it, I’ll be around.”

Jordan watched him walk away and waived one last time as he threw a glance over his shoulder. She listened to his steps, wishing she could talk to him about her unofficial case. She knew he could offer invaluable insight, and so far, with the limited details in this case, any help would be greatly appreciated.

Instead of feeling settled and worn out from their sparring match, she felt uptight. She walked towards one of the gym’s punching bags and was just about to take out her emotions on the heavy bag when a husky voice interrupted.

“I could use a partner, if you’re up for it.”

Jordan turned and was immediately struck by the owner of the voice. She had dark eyes and even darker hair, and it struck Jordan that she was very tall. She had at least a couple of inches on Jordan, which meant she was six feet tall at least. “Sure.”

Jordan watched her approach, and her heart skipped a beat. The stranger was attractive, and if Jordan was correct, was regarding her with what she could only describe as mutual interest. Her eyes were chocolate brown, set in an angular face, framed by masses of flowing black hair.

“Thanks.”

The stranger’s voice was deep and husky, somewhat at odds with her feminine features. She looked down, concentrating on her gloves, which gave Jordan even more opportunity to study her. Her bare arms were lean and rippled with muscles. She was on the slender side, in need of a few extra pounds. Jordan could tell she was in incredible shape, though. Her eyes swept over her body, and as her eyes flicked back up to her face, she met her amused gaze.

“I usually hit the bags too, but I wanted to spar and there’s never anyone here when I come.”

Jordan shook her head, the heat finally leaving her cheeks. “Yeah, mornings are the best time here. You can usually find someone to go a few rounds.”

“I’m Meghan, by the way.” Her eyes studied Jordan, the interest in them still evident. Her gaze roamed over Jordan’s body, and she unconsciously licked her lips.

Jordan felt the heat rise in her face again. She was used to women blatantly checking her out, but it had been a while since a woman had grabbed her attention so quickly. “Jordan.” She spun around, needing to break the connection between them. “You ready?”

Meghan put her mouth guard in and punched her gloves on tighter. “Ready.”

She stepped back on her right foot, planting her weight on her heel and dropped her right shoulder. She grazed at her chin with her gloved hand, a sign she was ready to spar.

Thirty minutes later, the women sank to the mats, completely out of breath and totally drenched in sweat. It was several minutes before either of them spoke.

“Wow, you are really good.” Jordan said with admiration. “I don’t even work that hard with my trainer.”

Meghan chuckled softly. “Well I should have told you before. I boxed in college, and I kept it up for fun ever since then. I had an unfair advantage. You held your own alright, though.”

Jordan blushed. The compliment, spoken so honestly, warmed her through and through. “I’m sure you were taking it easy on me.”

Meghan sat up quickly, feigning innocence. “I did no such thing.”

“Sure.” Jordan sighed and pushed herself off the mat, her knees cracking in protest. “I’m gonna hit the showers. See you around?”

Meghan nodded yes. “Hey, if you’re not in a hurry, you want to grab a drink? I mean, if you’re available.”

Jordan smothered a smirk. It had taken her all of thirty minutes to ask her out. Guess I haven’t lost my touch after all. Take that, Detective Foxx. “I’m completely available.”

Meghan waited while the bartender set drinks down then held hers up to Jordan. “To whatever comes next.”

Jordan clinked her glass and smiled as sincerely as she could muster. She knew exactly what came next. Sex. She could read between the smiles and the innocent touches. She could tell the interest was mutual, as was their desire for a quick and unencumbered night of passion. They hadn’t exchanged last names. There was no need to pretend that this night would continue tomorrow morning.