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  Craddock didn’t need her derailing him with doubt, so it was okay with him that no one ever came to his fights. Even his uncle, who was a good guy, had to work nights, cheering section wise, it was sparse. Well, boo hoo, he reasoned, less to worry about while he kicked ass.

  “I’m training for the big tournament in a couple weeks. Winner gets an offer with the 21C League. That’s the big money Ma.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see. Here’s some eggs.” She didn’t believe his stories about the big money. More than once she said his dad used to talk about big money and the big time. He hated when she did that, compared him to his dad, but at least this time she held back and focused on giving him his eggs. She made them his favorite way.

  “Thanks.” Craddock opened to fridge to grab some milk. The shelves were mostly bare. He made a note to buy some stuff and bring it tomorrow. Dylan ate like a horse, that combined with the mortgage meant mom’s cleaning job at the hotel was barely enough for them to get by. He knew Ma and Dylan needed more than some welder job could provide. He was going to get this house paid off and make sure she could retire.

  “I met a girl.”

  “A slut? Or a girl.”

  “I don’t think she’s a slut. Doesn’t look like one.”

  “Well, looks aren’t the way to judge, but that’s something. To what do I owe the honor of you sharing something other than fight statistics with me?”

  “You gonna bust on me or help me?” She was starting to piss him off.

  “What? You wanna know how to treat this girl? Make her go out with you?”

  “Yeah.” Craddock knew how to get a girl in bed or the backseat and gone by breakfast. It was a skill he feared would be wasted on Cassidy.

  “Be nice, show her that smile of yours while you still got all your teeth, and don’t be fresh. Ask her stuff. Like what she wants to do? A haircut wouldn’t hurt either, you look like a wild animal. What nice girl wants that?” His mom quickly finished tidying up the kitchen and grabbed the lunch she’d packed for Dylan.

  “You’d be surprised mama.” He winked at her.

  She waved him off and put her wallet in her pocket book as she got ready to leave for work.

  “Girls love Crad! They think he’s Superman!” Dylan teased his brother. Craddock put him in a front headlock and gave him a noogie.

  “Tap out!” Dylan tapped Craddock’s shoulder. And Craddock let him out of the hold. Dylan was the same height as Craddock, but a lot squishier since his favorite foods were toast and Skittles.

  “I let you win.” Dylan always said when they wrestled around, even when they were little.

  “Thanks. Come on, Dylan, let’s get to the bus stop.” They both kissed their mom. She’d drive across to downtown to start work in the hotel. His mom insisted Dylan learn how to use the bus so he could get around because “she wouldn’t be around forever.” Dylan knew the bus schedule and routes like some people knew their favorite baseball team’s stats.

  Dylan and Craddock walked to the corner and waited.

  “Do you think Mom will bring me to the fight?”

  “Didn’t sound like it. You know how she gets.” They saw the bus up the street slowly plodding towards the stop.

  “Yep. I know how she gets.”

  “Get your pass out.” Dylan scrambled to fish the bus pass out of his pocket. He had to be reminded to have it ready almost every day.

  “Got it!”

  “Good job.”

  Dylan worked at a light industrial factory that employed people with special needs. They did different projects based on the contracts the company had at the time. It gave him a routine and a sense of accomplishment to go to a job. Dylan would never be able to support himself, but with the job, at least he could feel good about himself.

  The bus stopped in front of him. Craddock had walked him to the stop for years once he got big enough to fight the assholes that were beating up his brother and calling him retarded. He kicked their asses, and now he provided a visual deterrent to any one on the bus who had ideas about teasing Dylan or robbing him. Craddock often thought “do not mess with my brother” should be tattooed on his forehead.

  “I love you big brother. Don’t take any shit.” It was Craddock’s standard send off for Dylan.

  “Love you, too, little brother, and I will NOT take any shit,” was Dylan’s standard reply.

  “Good morning Dylan!” The regular bus driver greeted Dylan. Dylan’s openly joyous attitude about the smallest things made most people smile. The bus driver nodded to Craddock and he gave a little wave. Dylan was like an asshole detector. If you were good with him you were a good person. If you were a dick to him, or bullied him, you were a dick. Straight up.

  That MMA money could go a long way to making sure Dylan was always taken care of because, well, mom wouldn’t be around forever.

  Craddock went straight to GWG after seeing Dylan off. There was no day off of training if he wanted to get that shot in the 21C.

  Cassidy

  What do you wear to work when you’re a receptionist at a MMA gym? At the restaurant it was easy, when she bussed tables it was black pants and a t-shirt, and then they gave her a polyester dress to wear after she got promoted to waitress. But now? It’s not like there were many choices. The studio had a small closet and her entire “wardrobe” hung inside along with her coat.

  She did a quick inventory: A couple of pairs of jeans, turtlenecks, a sweater, a dress, and so few pairs of shoes. She could pack her entire closet into one suitcase. The few nice things she had were hand-me-downs. Again she owed Bess. Bess was taller by several inches but she’d cleaned out her “work” closet and handed the extra clothes to Cassidy. That’s why she even owned a skirt. There was also one dress that Bess insisted on, it was the “little black” dress she wore when she graduated high school and only Bess attended.

  She decided jeans it was, if Whitey wanted her to dress nicer he’d tell her. Maybe it was time for a trip to Goodwill for some stuff? Wearing different clothes was an expense she didn’t want to deal with and hadn’t realized she’d face until this very moment.

  It would be a cold walk, but the gym was hot so she went with belted jeans, a blouse, her boots and the duster under her coat. Whitey didn’t seem to be one to worry about that sort of thing so she hoped it was okay.

  Wardrobe handled she rifled through her kitchen, which was really a sink, a mini-stove, and a small fridge. Saving money also meant skipping meals. She’d lost weight in the two weeks since the restaurant closed since she could usually get some free food at that job. Today she had packet of cup-a-soup and an apple. Free food was definitely something she’d taken for granted after it was gone. She filled a water bottle and figured she was set for the day.

  The GWG was a ten minute walk. In the daytime this was no big deal. At night, well, she wouldn’t tell Bess that one.

  Whitey greeted her when she arrived.

  “Good morning girlie,” he said with his gravelly voice as he assessed her desk area.

  “Is eight too late?” She worried since it looked like things were well underway in the gym. Fighters dotted several areas already.

  “I always get in at 5 to open. You can help me by getting in at 8 and staying later than I do to close. I could get home in time to make Mrs. Whitey happy for a change.”

  “Okay.”

  “So here’s the job, most days I’m too busy to tell you what to do. Today I will. After this you figure it out most of the time.”

  “Got it.”

  “You set these computers up and then these files,” Whitey indicated a file cabinet that was as tall as she was, “They need to be uh, dig ah, digee? What’s the word?”

  “Digitized?”

  “Yep, that paperless thing the GWG bosses want. You’re going to make sure the members’ cards get swiped. That’s new, the cards, and you’ll make sure they’re paid up, handle their forms, answer phones, help get the word out on events and just deal with GWG corporate. My grandso
n was doing a bunch of this stuff, but he’s got to focus on training. That’s him over there.” Whitey pointed to a short stocky fighter rapidly hitting a punching bag.

  “Jessie, wave to Cassidy!” Whitey bellowed. The fighter lifted a gloved hand towards her in salute.

  “Now back to work.” Whitey barked at his grandson.

  “We got a lot of siblings, father-son, and such in here, fighting runs in families.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m going to get over to the ring, if you have a question, ask. And here’s the number to the guy to talk to from GWG management, Sawyer. It’s California, so they won’t be up for what? Is it three hours? Who the hell knows?”

  “I’ll get going.”

  “Good. There’s a hook over there for your coat. And we got a fridge and microwave in the back. Though it don’t look like you eat at all, girlie.”

  “I do fine.” Whitey narrowed his eyes at her and turned to the two in the ring. It was clear he didn’t miss much.

  “You two. Is that the intensity I can expect today? You look like you’re under water. Step it up.” Whitey walked to the ring and it was then that Cassidy noticed who was in it — Craddock and another guy that looked nearly as dangerous. Most of the men in this placed looked like they could remove your limbs with their bare hands.

  Cassidy watched as the slow sparring Whitey complained about got fast and violent. She was transfixed as Craddock Flynn jabbed and charged while his opponent tried to fend him off. He backed his sparring partner up against the ropes and paused. Craddock looked her right in the eyes and finished it. A punch to the jaw had his sparring partner with his hands up and in what was a purely defensive stance.

  “Okay, okay, no need to kill him. Jonesy, you step over to the bags. Craddock, get some water, then partner up with Jessie after he’s warmed up and work on your holds a little. I want to see if you’re finishing that choke or not.”

  Whitey was barely done giving the orders when Craddock Flynn jumped out of the ring and strode across the gym to where Cassidy was trying to pretend they hadn’t locked eyes.

  “Good morning, Cassidy. You look gorgeous today.”

  “Good morning, and don’t you think gorgeous is a little bit of an overkill in the compliment department?”

  Gorgeous? She blushed pretty much everywhere. This man’s lines worked on her, she realized. Even if she was working hard not to show it.

  “You are. I like your hair like that in a bun, like mine. Though I liked it down yesterday, too.” She touched a tendril that had escaped.

  “You going into hair dressing if this fighting thing doesn’t work out?” She was trying to keep a tough exterior around him. Though he looked like the toughest thing in the city, she had her own brand of tough. She figured she better use it or be another notch on this guy’s fight belt.

  “No. I’m just into your hair. A lot of it there for such a little package underneath.” She was embarrassed. He probably fawned over the big-boobed, booty-shaking types. She was more in the Anna Kendrick size department.

  “I do just fine.”

  “I bet. And you look just fine. See you later, Cassidy. Oh, and thanks for watching me work out. I like it. You looking at me turns me on.” Craddock winked, then turned and headed to the mat where they were working on what was the word? Oh yeah, grappling. She inferred that meant wrestling. He really did love himself. But unfortunately he was right. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  She spent the morning getting the computer set up. By mid-day she had it up and running. She took a phone call with the California manager of GWG, Sawyer, on what they wanted in terms of membership and other forms online. She even started entering membership information on each fighter who worked out there. Once they were all in, all they’d need is a new magnetic card to swipe.

  Whitey came over at one point to check on her.

  “You came in on the right day. I was getting heat to get this stuff done and now you’re almost finished!”

  “We can start issuing the cards tomorrow and by the end of the week everyone will just swipe and we’ll be able to keep track without all the files cabinets.”

  “Good work. You’re a smart little cookie. Pretty as a picture too. Anyone too fresh?”

  “No, sir. I’m fine.” She decided not to let him know that Craddock kept catching her eye and looked like he would eat her alive. Along with that, she’d had winks from quite a few of the other guys, the terms sweetheart, hottie, and darling were flung at her from all directions. She decided it was part of the job and harmless. She’d told them her name was Cassidy, not sweet cheeks, and that usually took care of it. Except in Craddock’s case.

  At around 1 p.m. she realized she hadn’t eaten and laid her little lunch out on the desk as she continued to enter the gym members into the new database she’d set up with the GWG guidelines. There were about 100 members, mostly men, but a few badass women. She may need to watch them a little closer too, bad assery could come in handy in this place, she thought.

  Cassidy jumped in her chair a little when Zeke Powell pounced over and sat on the side of her desk. He had his own lunch in hand and a mouth full of food. Powell’s light hair and skin was the perfect counter point to Craddock’s dark hair and deeper skin tone. They were opposite and the same in a lot of ways. While Craddock had tats on his back, Zeke Powell had just one, a cross, on his shoulder. He was the cleanest cut of the bunch, she’d decided.

  “I thought we’d have a lunch date together.” Zeke said between bites.

  “Oh really?” Somehow his hitting on her was less laden with sex. It was a relief to some degree. Zeke, while just as muscle bound as Craddock, didn’t act like he was picturing her naked.

  “Not exactly doing a good job of a balanced lunch there, Cassidy.” Zeke smiled at her and she couldn’t help but smile back. She liked him.

  “I suppose not. What’s your lunch today?”

  “Two turkey sandwiches on rye, two apples, a bag of chips, don’t tell Whitey, and a cookie. Also, half a gallon of Gatorade. My momma knows what I like.”

  “Well you’re lucky, then. What does momma or daddy do?”

  “He’s a pastor and she’s the pastor’s wife. Sort of a full time job, too.”

  “I see, and you beat people up for a living? Not too Christian of you.” Cassidy took a sip of her water bottle.

  “Well it’s my talent, fighting, and Jesus doesn’t want us to hide our talents, so actually, not fighting is the sin.”

  “Interesting. Never thought of it that way.” Cassidy was done with her meager lunch and carefully dumped the crumbs from her napkin into the nearby garbage can. She folded the brown bag so she could use it tomorrow. It was still good.

  “What do you do? Any hobbies beside dealing with us here at GWG?”

  “I’m a fourth degree blackbelt in jui- jitsu so there’s that.” She gave him a wink like he’d done to her earlier.

  “That actually would help around here. We’re an overwhelming bunch and aren’t used to having someone who smells so fresh in our midst.”

  “Well thank you, soap and shampoo, quite the beauty secret.”

  “Craddock Flynn seems to like it just fine. You’re a really nice girl, can I offer a friendly warning?” Zeke had gotten serious all of a sudden.

  “We’re friends?”

  “I hope so. We’re practically BFFs now that we eat lunch together. It’s our thing.” Zeke Powell was funny, she had to give him that.

  “Okay, what’s the friendly warning?”

  “Be really careful with Craddock. He comes on strong and he’s dangerous. He’s got a not-so-friendly side. Let me know if he gets fresh.”

  “Fresh? Is this 1956? Thank you, but I’m good. Besides, fourth degree black belt, remember?”

  “Oh yes, very scary!” They laughed. It felt good to laugh with Zeke.

  “You know, you’re welcome to come to visit the chu-”

  “Is he bothering you? Why don’t you get your fat
ass off her desk and show some respect?”

  “You’re being an asshole as usual, the lady and I are on a lunch date.” Cassidy watched as Zeke Powell seemed to enjoy instigating anger in Craddock. It did not seem like a what-would-Jesus-do characteristic. But Craddock was no saint, either. Zeke stood up and the two men were chest to chest. All of a sudden her cup-a-soup “date” with Zeke was turning into World War Three. If these two got her fired…

  “Lunch date? Don’t flatter yourself.” Craddock said. It didn’t look like either man was planning on backing down. Cassidy saw a flurry of movement out of the corner of her eye. Maybe Whitey had noticed the ruckus. Shit.

  “Zeke, thank you, I need this job.” It was her way of begging them to cool it. She shot a look toward Whitey, who appeared irritated by the distraction her presence had caused. Zeke caught her meaning, thank God. Maybe God was on his side, after all.

  Zeke broke off the stare down with Craddock, releasing the tension between the two men to some degree. “Back off Craddock. We don’t want to get her in trouble. And Cassidy, thanks for lunch.” The two men eyed each other. Would they have fought right there if she hadn’t asked Zeke to think of her job?

  Clearly the two fighters hated each other and it wasn’t just about who had lunch with her. She wondered what it was about. Zeke eased away from her work area.

  Craddock looked at her now that Zeke was clearly stepping back.

  “He’s the snake in the garden. Trust me on that.”

  Zeke rolled his eyes at the warning. “Whatever Flynn. You’re over reacting as usual.”

  “Fuck off.”

  Zeke sauntered over to the free weight area of the gym. Cassidy felt grateful that Zeke understood her distress. Craddock on the other hand…

  “We were just eating our lunches.” Why she felt like she needed to explain this to Craddock Flynn she had no idea.

  “You’re not dating anyone in here, but me.” Craddock crouched down to her level and then grabbed the arms of her rolling office chair and jerked it toward him. Shocked, she inhaled sharply as she swerved forward..