Nina Kobly lives on the bad side of Cincinnati, Ohio; where she tries to pursue her dreams of escaping daily struggles while meeting Jon Alter, who prefers to be called Dean and encountering fragile situations with a friend who likes to be called Ph...
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The arena doors swung open to reveal Dean in an empty seated arena with gloves and a punching bag. How did he do that so fast? Is he serious right now!
I huffed and puffed with each step I took with Frank not far belong me. How can Dean act like that what just happened DIDN'T HAPPEN? Did he not realize he had a gun almost pulled out on him? Did he realize he is messing with the biggest gang leader in the city? No, of course not.
"Nina, you better explain to me what's going on. now." Frank stood infront of me blocking my vision of Dean making me pull all of my focus on him.
Frank was about 5'8 to my 5'5 height. I always saw him as a comforting, dad figure. He didn't have a beard since the last time I saw him and his facial hair seemed to fit well. His hazel eyes squinted with agitation like he had a long day and wanted what was happening now to be the last thing on his list that he could or would be asking for.
"Frank, in due time I promise I will explain everything, okay. I need to handle something first." I quickly persuade just to be stopped in my tracks again but this time him grabbing me by my purse and gently tugging me back. Oh great. Not getting out of this one.
"Nina.." he softly threaded, calming down
I practically melted in my own guilt. I hate lying to him.
"Everything's fine, Frank. I promise, okay?" I say with my back to him. Dean started to pick up the pace of his pats on the punching bag and started to proceed in full punches, making the bag swing back attached to the chain then proceeded again with another hit before it could even come back down.
"That boy is trouble, Nina. I wouldn't get involved."
But how couldn't I?
"Yeah.."
"Don't forget to be home by seven, okay? Deb wanted me to remind you." not waiting for an answer, he leaves to go get the concession stand ready for tonight and tonight's customers coming in for the match. I hear a click of a switch and the smell of popcorn already starting to be made.
I took a deep breathe and stared at the mystery in front of me. I was no longer mad, but I was engraved with too many questions. Treading lightly, I noticed Dean's breathing pattern. Quiet, slow and controlled. The muscles in his back were tense as little drops of sweat ran down his back to the dimples starting to his tail bone. His skin was a little flushed probably due to so much adrenaline while His shoulder blades pushed together with each arm swing at its fastest capacity. Stepping closer thinking on how I'm gonna say this,
"I don't think this is a good idea.. the match tonight."
No response
"I just.. is this REALLY a good idea, Dean. I mean, are you ready? Have you finished your training." I continue, still no response
