Right Uppercut

Chapter 2

It was a typical day at the hardware store the day I met Ethan. I kind of knew who he was because he had been coming in regularly for about a month. Over the course of that month, I had learned that he was new to town, but he lived here for a short while when he was young, but his family moved away before he made any roots.

He was back in town for “permanent business,” as he called it. When I asked him why he kept coming into the store, he explained that he was renovating the house that his grandmother lived in, which was given to him after her passing.

He kept coming into the store, asking me questions about myself, like how I started working at the store. I answered honestly, but evasively.

“Money,” I replied honestly.

He smirked a smirk I came to know well. At first, it was inviting and made me feel warm inside. Now, it was unsettling and made my stomach churn. “So a pretty girl like you got stuck with the dirty hardware store?”

I smiled coyly in response without continuing the conversation “$14.95 is your total.”

He handed me a fifty dollar bill, grabbed his bag and turned away, calling out “Keep the change,” over his shoulder.

The following week was when he finally told me what he did for a “living.”

“I’m sort of a manager at my buddy’s warehouse,” he said from across the counter.

I was taking inventory, so my back was turned to him. “Really?” I asked distractedly.

“Yup,” he continued chomping on his gum. “He runs a… fight club, if you will.”

“Sounds dangerous,” I replied, scribbling a few numbers on the clipboard in my hand.

“Eh, the fighters can take it,” he said. “Especially when they get paid at the end. If they won, at least.”

“Money does make people happy,” I quipped, moving onto another shelf.

“I think it could make you very happy, no?”

I snorted in response. “That’s an understatement.”

I felt his eyes graze over me. “I think you’d fit in nicely.”

I chuckled. “Right…”

“Seriously. We’re down a fighter and you have some muscle there.” Knowing him now, if he were closer to me he probably would’ve squeezed my bicep, which was fairly muscular from working around the store and having to take care of bigger household projects on my own.

“You’d let a chick into your ‘fight club,’” I mocked with air quotations, resting my hand on my hip.

“Did I forget to mention that it was women only?” He asked with feigned innocence. “Think about. It’s got a nice payout…”

Then he stood up straight and left the store without making a senseless purchase.

I laughed, shaking my head and continued to work. I didn’t realize then that he was serious. I didn’t know then that I would’ve actually joined.

 

The breeze was blowing in my face and had I not been sitting on the back of Ethan’s motorcycle with a helmet, my hair would’ve been whipping around like crazy. It was dark and late for a school night, but Ethan didn’t care that I had other responsibilities; he was 22 and living freely on his own. And the way he saw it, he was doing me a favor by giving me distractions to take my mind off of those obligations.