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“Thelev,” he said, motioning to a Vinduthi with dark red tracery under his skin. “VIP host. If high-end clients want to meet you, you’ll work with him directly.” I felt my fears confirmed that he was talking about backstage privileges, if nothing else.
“We’ve got Sakkar,” he said to the Vinduthi who refused to sit. “He heads up our surveillance security team. He’ll keep an eye on you from our network cameras.”
“And, of course, Jalik,” he said of the largest of the men sitting there. The tracery the others had were so colorful and distinctive, that it was hard to even notice his at first. When he sat taller, pulling himself closer to the light, his tracery was more visible, but it remained gray and mysterious.
His eyes seemed to bore into mine as if he were measuring me against some strange metric I wasn’t privy to. I couldn’t explain it then, but I felt strangely at ease under his gaze. It didn’t feel like I was being undressed or torn down. Rather, it felt like an attempt by someone to understand me. To draw me in closer so he could know me better as a person. I’d never felt that way before.
And for some reason that I also couldn’t explain, I wanted to know him, too.
“Jalik heads the security guards on our casino floor. A voice like yours may attract attention. He’s the brawn around here. He’ll keep anyone from getting too handsy.”
It seemed my silver lining was real after all. This was a real job, a real opportunity.
Draven continued. “Jalik also leads his own boxing exhibitions here. You’ll work the crowd during these matches to help promote the casino to some of our VIPs.”
Things were looking up. And of the Vinduthi sitting before me, one caught my attention apart from the others. His thick-cut body, still glistening with sweat, called to me from across the table.
He sat there, his eyes playing over me, slow and steady, and taking me away from the glee of my fortune to some fantasy world. I could’ve gotten lost in the darkness that swirled moody and gray under his skin.
“But first,” Ryrik said, motioning to the lounge stage. “Let’s hear what she can do.”
JALIK
“You’re holding your breath.” Sakkar held the bag between his fists, scolding me between punches.
I ignored him, my attention on the bag. I stepped into the punch, breaking the invisible line my mind knew to be there when I boxed.
“Your form is off,” he said as a matter of observation. “You waste your energy if you don’t hold the line.”
I heard his words, but they ran down my back like sweat. Instead, I doubled my pace, moisture pouring down my abs with every punch.
Sakkar stepped back, allowing the bag to swing like crazy while he eyed me slowly without saying anything. I took my breaths in silence, waiting. At length, with his eyes screwed up, he grabbed a set of training gloves and started to place them over his hands.
“Let’s spar a minute.” The idea didn’t appeal to me. After hours of training on top of my duties inside the casino, the fights looked like more work.
Sakkar gripped the ropes for me to enter and came inside the ring.
“Okay, start,” I said, frustrated, as he stood there. He threw up his hands for a moment and set his shoulders back again when he saw me prep myself for the spar.
“Look at you, elbows flared? What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing, I’m fine.” I put my fists up and started throwing one, twos into his hands.
“You’re saying this is the guy who taught me how to box?” He gestured his hands across my frame, and I knew he was right. I was holding my breath, throwing arm punches like a chump first-timer.
I knew I needed to focus, I knew it, but the bigger problem, of course, was proximity.
Black Star had limited space, and while setting up at the in-house training area sounded like a good idea, it was the sound coming from the other side of the wall that bothered me most.
In particular, singing.
“Your tender heart was mine. And while I laid there, twisted in you, I heard your truth divine.” Her voice carried through the flimsy station wall.
Her.
But ‘her,’ I thought while throwing myself into my next punch, is a distraction I cannot afford.
“You’re holding your breath again,” Sakkar scolded, putting his hands down. “And you know you need sixty percent of your weight on that leg if you want that power. You’re just wearing yourself out like this, man.”
