Alexander Ace Peterson has been an underground boxer for nearly his whole life, its always the same thing, train, fight, and win. But his boss tells him that they need something new, that something being a woman. Would having a woman join the fight...
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Ace♤
The arena here compared to the one back at the academy is absolutely massive and yet ten times more intimidating from watching it rather than being down there.
It was a spur of the moment thing, a quick yes from Max and we were lurched into the down town cabin far from the prying eyes of the people.
Eric had found us urgently just as I had finished up with Blair and I was just chatting with guys about some of the progress she had made when Eric had come bustling into the room.
Damien had jumped out his bloody skin and practically twanged his head against the wall at the sound of the heavy man hurtling into the room. In less than ten seconds, with some heavy breathing, he explained to us that he received a call from Darren (our organiser) that there was a fight free and a spot needed taking. The opponent was Diego Martez.
Now I'm not surprised that name did not throw Max off as he always is up for a fight no matter who he is going against, he has so much confidence in himself that he just isn't afraid. But watching Diego sit menacingly now on his stool in the corner of the arena is ruffling my own nerves. His hench frame is similar, maybe even larger to Kingston's.
With swirling tattoos of phrases and abstract patterns obscuring most of his skin he has the look of a mafia boss but what strikes out first is the way he doesn't deter his eyes away from Max.
I can feel the burn from here. Surrounding him are some of the staff and his personal trainer from the Admount Adversity Academy, the place is just as fancy as it sounds but it's situated further up North.
Max is sat on his stool in the corner opposite of Diego with his own skin clear and tanned. He doesn't look away from Diego either and has that infamous blank stare. The stare that holds no emotion and yet you somehow know the sheer power behind it. Despite Max's temper I'm impressed how he manages to keep it locked tight behind his mental shield.
There have been many a time where I thought he was going to break during a fight if things got too hefty but he reigned himself back under control. If only he could do that all the time. Eric beside him instructs him on technique of which he nods absentmindedly to and his gaze lucidly floats towards me and the boys up towards the benches.
He throws us a reassuring wink to let us know he's fine and Damien pretends to catch it and holds it over his heart. Max's face turns grim.
"For fucksake Damien don't piss him off before a fight," scolds Kingston, running an exasperated hand over his face but Damien only grins and pretends to shower Max with kisses. Sometimes I'm embarrassed for him and sometimes I'm embarrassed for myself for being with him.
The benches where we are sat are further at the back where only a few pimps and drunkards are seated and the rest of the onlookers are right at the front standing eagerly around the rope sizzling with excitement. And in front of it all is the prize money stacked on top of a wooden platform.
