Page 28 of Hard Corps (Selected Sinners MC 7)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Spring 2014, Austin, Texas, USA

Eighteen months had passed since my divorce from Suzanne. Thoughts of the war still lingered in my mind, stuck there permanently like an ugly stain on the cloth of my life. My once clean mind was now littered with bits and pieces of recollections of the war, screaming Marines as they took their last breath, and the eyes of the men I had killed as they held on to the hope of being able to be saved from the permanency of the very death they hoped to cast upon each of the Marines they fought with.

I had no regrets over what I had done, but the constant replaying of events in my head told me my subconscious mind viewed things much differently. My time had been spent, entirely, riding my motorcycle and being as free as I believed any citizen of the United States could be. Tied to no one, bound to nothing, and living off of my military retirement and combat pay, I rode with my newfound brethren, my MC brothers.

Although I made no effort to contact Suzanne or Steve in the time that had passed, from time to time I would catch sight of them at their favorite coffee shop. Each time I did, my temper flared slightly, fueling my desire to get out of town. A club ride to Austin, Texas had been scheduled for a few months, and as the date approached, I found myself itching to make the ten-hour trip by motorcycle.

The motorcycle club I rode in decided to look into starting a new chapter in Austin, Texas, and while we were in the area, planned on looking for a clubhouse. As we rode north on Interstate 35 on our way back to the hotel at the end of the weekend, it wasn’t a potential clubhouse that caught my attention, it was a billboard at a local gym advertising a fundraiser for amateur fighters. The same gym was advertised in a flyer for the bike rally we planned on attending the following weekend, and after noticing the sign, I decided to I wanted to see if the gym was open.

Riding in the front of the group right beside the president, Erik, I raised my hand and motioned toward the sign. He nodded his head and signaled for the group to slow and then motioned for everyone to exit the highway. As twenty of us pulled into the parking lot of the small gym, the sound from our exhaust was deafening.

After parking under a light pole I got off the bike, stretched my legs, and gazed at the gym. A Harley sat in the parking lot beside the front door and at least some the lights seemed to be on in the front of the building, although the entire side of the building facing us had no windows, we decided to see if they were open for business. I glanced at Teddy, tilted my head toward the door, and walked up to it. After checking the handle and finding it unlocked, I pulled it open.

In the summer, I typically rode with my leather vest and no shirt. In as good of physical shape as I was when I was at war – or maybe even better – I would have described myself as an intimidating man. The man who stood on the other side of the door when I yanked it open however, was an absolute monster.

Wearing a pair of sneakers, cargo shorts, and boxing gloves, he stood beside a petite woman and glared in my direction. His upper body and arms were covered in tattoos, which certainly wasn’t anything new to me, but his presence told me he was no amateur to boxing or fighting.

“What can I do for ya, Brother? We’re closed, we were just locking up,” he said as he cocked his cleanly shaved head slightly to one side.

To make sure he fully understood I wasn’t intimidated by his size, I stepped inside the door a few feet and cleared my throat lightly as I flexed my chest. “Well, we rode into town for the ROT rally coming up. The flyers for the rally said you were having fights next week. I boxed in the Marines, and while we were at the bar I made a bet with the president of our motorcycle club. He’s boxed a little, and we’d like to see if there’s two spots open.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the woman who stood beside him, nodded his head slightly, but didn’t respond.

“To tell you the truth, we didn’t think anyone would be here. We were just going to see if we could find the place and saw the scoot in the lot. You ride?” I asked.

He nodded his head once. “Yep.”

Man of few words, huh?

I folded my arms in front of my chest and grinned as Teddy stepped up beside me. “So, have any spots left?”

“Yeah, we got some paperwork to fill out in the office, but it’s locked. Can you come back in the morning?” he asked.

I nodded my head and lowered my arms. “We’ll be back in the morning. Can you save me two spots? One of the other fellas said he’ll fight if there’s another spot. Kind of an inside bet with the club. Bragging rights. Hell, if you ride, you know how it is.”

He nodded his big bald head. “I’ll tell the boss. His name’s Kelsey. There’s at least two left for sure, ain’t had much traffic on it yet. What’s your name?”

I extended my hand. “My name’s Alec Jacob, but I don’t really go by that. You ride, so you call me either Train or A-Train.”

He reached toward me, realized he was wearing boxing gloves, and chuckled a light laugh. “I’m Mike Ripton, you can call me Ripp. Pleasure to meet you, A-Train.”

I glanced around the gym and nodded my head. It was small, but it was extremely tidy. It reminded me of the gyms at the Marine Corps base in Camp Pendleton. “Alright. Well, it’s a nice place you have here, Ripp. We’ll leave you to it. Appreciate the help.”

I turned around and pulled the door closed behind me.

“So, you and Doc going to do some boxin’, huh? Hell I’d get in that little ring and fight, but I ain’t the kind of fucker that follows rules. Probably get my big dumb ass tossed out on my ear if I tried it,” he said.

I glanced over my shoulder toward Teddy. There was no doubt in my mind that he was a tough man. Hell, I’d seen him in a few fights. But he had no finesse, no style, and no formal training. He was just a big brawler who did his best to protect those he cared for and what he believed in.

I, on the other hand, needed to get into a fight just to keep my sanity. Being in a good fight was similar to being at war. It kept my adrenaline level up, gave me a little excitement, and allowed me to appreciate the mundane pace of my day-to-day post-war activities a little more. With absolutely no excitement in my life, I yearned for something to keep me on edge.

The violence of a fight was miniscule compared to the violence of war, but the same principles applied. The adrenaline, excitement, and uncertainty of a fight allowed me to believe – if even for a short period of time – that I hadn’t stepped so far away from the war I desperately missed.

“So what did they say?” Doc asked as I climbed onto the seat of my bike.

“Said to come back tomorrow. Seems they’ve got a few spots left, but there’s still time to back out,” I said with a laugh.

Erik was a massive man, but built like a natural athlete, not a bodybuilder. He was big, muscular, and physically fit, but he didn’t look like a gym rat. I’d never seen Erik in a fight, and had only heard stories about his quick fists and keen eye. He boxed his way through college, and fought in the golden gloves arenas, but it wasn’t something he yearned for.

He rolled his shoulders and flexed his chest. “Back out? That’s not going to happen, Train.”

I flipped the switch on my hand controls and started the bike. As the engine came to a roar, I tossed my head toward his bike.

“Well, we better get the fuck out of here, then. You’re going to need some sleep, Old Man,” I said.

He shook his head and coughed a laugh. “Saddle up!”

As we rode to the hotel I wondered if there would be a chance I could fight the big fucker at the gym.

Ripp.

Fighting that guy would put me in a damned good mood.

One that just might last for the rest of the summer.