Page 6 of Crash
I seriously doubted that she’d be at Pulse, but I remembered seeing her fleetingly over a year ago when she came to see Ren at Beat. Nothing had changed, except she looked frightened. I always remembered her as this feisty, hot as fuck girl who could hold her own in the world of male dominated MMA. Now that I knew what had happened to make her disappear, I couldn’t blame her for leaving fighting behind.
Gunning the engine, I checked for cars behind me and reversed out of the car park, fishing for the ticket to get me out of the gate. I guess I was going to Pulse. It wasn’t like I had anywhere else to be.
**
It wasn’t that much of a stretch to get from North Melbourne to Abbotsford, but the traffic was killer. Circling around the block, I got a glimpse of the exterior of Pulse as I coasted looking for a park. It looked like it had been a factory or warehouse at some stage, and the brickwork had been sandblasted and rendered, making it look brand fuckin’ new. A set of tinted glass doors sat at the entrance that was bookended with large box hedges. To top it all off, there was a huge sign painted across the facade that read ‘Pulse Fitness’. The logo was of a chick with boxing gloves on, and I wondered if Ash had gone as far as to use Ren as a model. Probably did.
Turning the car down a side street, I found a space, parked, slid out and chucked a few coins into the meter. As I walked down the footpath toward Pulse, I wondered what Ash would say when he saw me. I knew Ren would be supportive if I ran into her, but her boyfriend was another thing entirely. Fighters got injured all thetime,it was part of the gig. Pro athletes had to train and work a million fucking times harder than guys who just did it for kicks, so shit was going to happen. I just didn’t want to let the Golden Boyhimselfrub it in as well. My pride was shot enough as it was.
Ash Fuller had been the bane of Dean and mine’s existence ever since we first set foot inside Beat as kids. He was one of those guys whowasjust good without even trying all that hard. We had to work for it, and having a guy like that rub it in our faces, had done nothing but harbor ill will and fierce competition. Things had gotten better between us after everything that went down with him and Ren and that fucked up underground fighting circus, but we weren’t ever likely to be best mates.
Standing out the front of Pulse, I took a deep breath. After so many years at Beat, it was like crossing enemy lines. Fuck that shit. I pushed the door open.
Other than the faint sound of music from speakers set in the roof above, the sound of flesh hitting leather was the first thing I heard. There was no front desk, just a little bench with some flyers sitting on top, so I just wandered in and began nosing around.
The whole place was fully kitted out. A separate room housed a range of machines like treadmills, cross-trainers, rowers and bikes—while out on the main floor there was another row of machines and freestanding weights. On the far side of the room there was a full mat area and a padded cage set up for one-on-one MMA training. Bags, speedballs and other equipment had its own space as well. Total state of the art. Beat had everything a fighter could need, but Pulse had it with style.
The place still smelt faintly of paint, but it looked schmick. Totally classy and had Ash Fuller written all over it.
“Fuckin’ hell,” a familiar voice boomed. “Is that the motherfucker Lincoln Hayes?”
I turned to find Ash Fuller striding toward me through the racks of weights, a huge ass grin on his face.
“The one and only,” I drawled, not sure how he could tell the difference. Most people couldn’t when Dean and I were apart.
He looked me over. “What thefuck areyou doing here? Kicked out already?”
I grimaced. “I did my shoulder.”
His expression fell. “Shit, I’m sorry mate. Tough break.”
I shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt so much, but the Doc says I did some damage to the ligament, and I could tear it if I keep fighting. So, I’m out for at least six months.”
“Ah, fuck, man,” he said, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’d wave a magic fuckin’ wand if I could.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Ren was good for him it seemed. He hadn’t been an asshole about my injury once. I glanced around the gym, taking in the group of heavy-set dudes working out on the mats. “I’ve got time to pussyfoot around, so I thought I’d check out your set up.”
Ash beamed, obviously proud of his baby.“It’s fucking amazing, hey? If you had of seen this place when it was a shell…fuck.” He let out a slow whistle.
“You must’ve pumped some serious cash into the place.”
He pointed to a set of stairs that sat beside the entrance to the change rooms. “We’ve got upstairs as well.Office and apartment.We’re still working on that.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I knew it. You’re going to live here.”
“Fuck, yeah. I breathe this shit, man.”
I glanced around again, feeling slightly jealous.
“What are you going to do for six months?” he asked, watching me.
“I dunno. I’m not allowed to do much.” The thought of being idle already had me fidgeting. Ash would get it—the excess energy fighters got from their diet and exercise regimen hit them hard when they were injured. It’d only been a couple of days, and I was already chomping at the bit.
“You wanna help out here?”
Turing back to Ash, I cocked my head to the side. What the fuck? “You offering me a job, Fuller?”
He shrugged. “I know what it’s like, having time on your hands. I could use a guy to help out with those bozos.” He nodded to the guys going through their repetitions on the bags. “Having a dude who’s in the mix with the big guns would blow their minds. We’ve got after school classes and all kinds too. Could use the extra set of muscles.”
