Bare Knuckled

The energetic sound of his music blasted through his ears as he focused all of his frustration on the punching bag set before him. Thoughts of what had led to this moment had caused the man to relinquish all anger into the vinyl fabric set before him that made up the punching bag itself. Nausea began to grow within his body from being inexperienced with a daily workout such as this, forcing him to cease. By now, his sun kissed skin had been drenched in perspiration, making him move towards the showers of the nearby locker room. Having used the training facilities when everyone else had been long gone, the man pulled open his employee locker to remove a set of clothes before glancing at his nametag. A shiny piece of metal that seemed to speak of what had made up his life until now; just the name ‘Zane’ on a small plaque. He rolled his eyes in the thought before then moving to the showers. Pulling the water to the ‘on’ position, Zane had shed each item of his clothes, having been bare in front of an empty room and God himself. He allowed the water to cascade upon his knuckles, the blood mixing with the water before falling down the drain and disappearing from view-leaving only the stinging from the wounds themselves. As he winced at the burning sensation of his flesh meeting with the water, a set of eyes fell upon him, ones dripping with sadness of her own while she watched him in his glory. Even though she hadn’t spoken a word to him, she couldn’t help but feel as if they felt the same kind of pain-a pain that was shown in their gazes; a pain that was seen without the requisite of words. However, her greedy gaze seemed to be her downfall as she was distracted by the incoming sound of steps behind her, seeking her out. It had also been enough for Zane to realize someone had been nearby-and also a reason for him to cease his cleansing and resume his shift before he would be discovered having used the equipment that was placed for genuine fighters-and not wannabes.  Having heard a nearby voice, Zane quickly pulled a towel from the shower wall and wrapped it around his lower waist before moving into the hall itself. For a moment, he paused, scanning either direction the hallway allowed access to and from, while water still dripped from his torso. The figure who happened to watch him had continued to spy on him from around a nearby corner, hiding each time he would look in her direction. Her eyes analyzed the grand amount of tattoos upon his body, having begun at the center of each pectoral and extended as sleeve tattoos, all the way down to his wrists. With her name called once more, she was pulled from her momentary fascination, leaving Zane without an answer as to who had been nearby.   Zane managed to dry himself and dress in his uniform in a matter of seconds before making his way out into the hallway, still buttoning his jumpsuit, before then moving to the supply closet to get his cleaning cache. Pulling a thick cart before him, Zane began to focus on the bathrooms, pulling the garbages into his larger can, emptying it and then replacing the bags, before hearing the echoing of an argument that his ears were not meant for. However, he was intune with the sound of verbal anger from his late mother’s second husband against him and his sister. Due to this, he couldn’t help himself from leaning closer to the grate as he heard a dispute between a man and a woman. One of the voices he knew all too well.  “You will NOT walk away when I am talking to you!” The male voice ordered as the sound of heels attempting to walk away and being halted were heard in the echo as well.  “Let go of me!” She pleaded, the sound of sniffling and tears able to be heard in the ventilation system as well as Zane attempted to focus on his job, but found it was of no use as he was too involved in the conversation to pivot back to his main occupation.  “We aren’t done talking about this.” The voice now seemed to calm as the woman’s heels  went to leave before stopping at a short distance. “At home.” His words seemed to be spoken with a threatening tone, forcing her to worry of what she was about to walk in to when leaving the gym. Zane pulled himself from the bathroom, abandoning his cart momentarily, while moving into the direction of the arena owner’s office; as he recognized the female voice as having belonged to Candace Grenon; wife of the very owner. Although he had never spoken more than two sentences to her in his four years working as a janitor in this place, Zane had come to learn much about the woman who was trapped in a possessive and loveless marriage. But her husband was a man of power and dangerous allies, forcing Zane to simply stand back and watch-as he knew no more about defending her than he did for himself. But that would all change on this night.  Candace made her way into the main lobby of the arena, using a small compact mirror to try and fix the running lines of her mascara, unaware that Zane was watching from nearby. Watching her pull her keys from her purse and exit through the front doors, he abandoned all thoughts of racing after her and telling her she didn’t have to go home to someone like him. But he knew how it would sound coming from a janitor. After all, this bombshell of a woman was of porcelain beauty, perfectly styled blonde hair that hung in loose waves around her face, and stunning blue eyes that captivated him without her even knowing, and Zane saw himself as a nobody who literally cleaned up after them. Because of this, he decided to cut his losses and return to his duties, but finding it difficult to think of anything but her as her beauty had been far too distracting to just abandon in thought.  Finishing upon the final room in the arena, Zane had one final task before calling it a night and returning to his small yet cozy apartment a few miles away. Pulling two large trash bags over his shoulders and setting them in the large dumpster behind the main building, the sound of sobbing and sniffling could be heard nearby. With this having been Camden, New Jersey, there were always those looking for trouble out in all hours of the night; looking to gain things without needing money and by the use of force-and it seemed that this victim was no exception.  “Hello?” Zane called out as the sound of heels shuffling upon the ground had caused him to bring his flashlight from his side and look to a scene that made his heart drop and his jaw clench. The woman who was always so calm and collected had now been disheveled in an alleyway with two men hovering over her-one with his belt undone. Tears poured down her cheeks as she looked to Zane, knowing who he was from having seen him around, but fearful that he would get hurt from having come upon a scene such as this one. For a moment, Zane seemed to take in the details of what had transpired; learning that she was jumped between the doors and her car, slightly beaten, from the blood coming from her lip, and raped or nearly assaulted from the fact she now wore only a slip and her dress had been torn and tossed to the side.  “Get your damn hands off of her!” He called to the two men. The one man who stood with all clothes in tact moved to him first, seemingly laughing at the fact that he attempted to take the two of them on as he was only the ‘janitor’. This forced him to have the upperhand as they believed they would have to flash the blade of their knife and he would run screaming, but instead, he was seemingly ready for the challenge-especially since Candace was involved.  “Just go back to cleaning shit...would ya? She is asking for it!” The other man called out as Candace remained against the wall, shaking, and terrified of what had or what had nearly become of her. As he motioned for her to go, he watched as she was too frightened to move, learning why, upon seeing the knife brought to his view.  “Twice the fun in one night!” The one man spoke before swinging at Zane, missing as he dodged this by dropping all of his weight to a low stance. The second man then moved to him, having used the knife to try and swipe past him-missing everything and leaving them to know that they were not against a fighting novice-just someone who hadn’t had a live opponent in quite some time. The knife made its way towards him in several different combination hits, each time just missing him, while the unarmed man used his fists as his weapons. Zane was able to gain the upper hand in one instance as he knocked the knife to the ground and was left bare knuckle fighting to the men who had attacked the woman whom he knew hadn’t deserved this. Zane then threw his phone towards Candace, telling her to call the police as she struggled to break through her state of shock and pick up the phone-shaking as she looked at the number pad before her. Meanwhile, he used all of the pent up anger he had of the last two decades and brought it through his fists, knocking down both men and causing them to end up fleeing with expletives in wondering where he had come from.  Zane had suffered a few scratches from the scuffle, but nothing that would be expected from having been outnumbered. Out of breath and heaving, Zane moved to Candace incredibly slowly, having reached for his phone to find that she never managed to make that call to police.  “It’s okay…” He spoke with a subtle Jersey accent, one that made her meet with his eyes and feel somewhat safe. “We should get you back inside…” He commented while setting his hand upon her back and leading her back inside. Her glossy eyes had now begun to return to normal by now as she watched as Zane brought his focus to the doors in front of him, locking them before turning back to her.  “You could have been killed…” She spoke, her angelic tone having made his heart race, while he attempted to act as if this had been the first time he had seen her.  “So could you…” He informed her as her gaze dropped to the floor, thinking of what could have happened, or what had. He tried to read her gaze, wanting to know without asking directly if they had harmed her in a way that would frighten her from intimacy for the rest of her life. But he got his answer as he tried to reach out for her to pull a jacket of his own over her and watching her flinch.  “Do you want me to take you to the hospital or something?” He asked, his eyes filling with sorrow when realizing that the innocence she wore behind a tortured smile had been taken along with those men.  “No…” She paused for a moment, looking down to see his knuckles having been bleeding and dripping onto the ground. But for her, she was more amazed at the fact he didn’t even wince at the pain he must have felt, and instead, focused solely on her. She smiled to herself for that, a smile that didn’t quite make it to her cheeks, before she looked up to him. “Let me fix your hands…” She spoke while already moving to her feet and into a section of the locker room chock full of supplies after the fights. Even if this one hadn’t been done in the ring, it was a wound expected from that all the same. Hence, allowing Candace to know what to do for his knuckles themselves to allow them on the right path towards healing.  “You don’t have to-” He winced upon feeling a cool alcohol upon his wounds, forcing her to apologize from his reaction.  “It’s the least I can do.” While her eyes focused upon his wounds, his eyes focused on her, taking in each second that she was caring for him as he basked in the feeling of her tender touch upon his own rough skin. “How did you know how to fight like that?” She questioned, knowing he was simply the custodial crew, a team of one, that spent his time walking around with a cart filled with cleaning supplies-not exactly training to be the next Bobby Gunn. “I’m thankful...just...surprised…” She confessed while bringing an antibacterial gel upon his wounds to keep his skin from getting infected and leading to more serious problems.  “I’ve watched the other fighters-” “Bullshit.” She challenged him, making his eyes raise up in surprise. He had always known her to be so much of a lady, to speak such a word had caught him off guard. However, it also allowed him to find her to be at his level; the gutters. “You don’t fight like that by watching others.” She paused for a moment, wrapping his knuckles with gauze as he tried to shrug it off before watching her look at him with a look of skepticism.  “I may...test the equipment to make sure it works and that it’s clean-” “I knew it!” She jumped up upon finishing aiding him. “When you first worked here, you didn’t have the muscle tone you do now and to fight like that.” She paused for a moment upon realizing what she had spoken aloud. Even if she hadn’t said it directly to a sense, she admitted to having had her eye on him and seen a change in him from a physical perspective. But at that very moment that there seemed to be a spark between them, she moved her fingers around her wedding ring, twisting it nervously around her finger, as if being subtle in making them both recall that she was married. “Sorry, I just mean...thank you.” She corrected herself, doing her best to end the awkward moment, before turning towards the showers to return the first aid kit and recalling when she had seen him earlier. Her cheeks ran red with a slight blush as she could remember the sight of his body bare away from her. His toned back had tensed as he ran his fingers through his hair, having shown the wounds on his hands prior to the fight that saved whatever virtue she had left. She smirked to herself before returning the kit and returning to Zane.  “Thank you...you seem to be quite talented in aiding screwed up knuckles.” “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve acted as a paramedic for the fighters…” She spoke while glancing at the hallway and the direction of the ring. An awkward silence now fell between them as they both wanted to speak so much more than what they felt would be comfortable or appropriate, but knew it would only prolong or deepen the uncomfortable situation they both found themselves thrust into. But a thought then came over her mind of how she must seem to him, and wanted him to understand before he would assume things for himself. “I’m not the kind of girl who gets herself into situations like these…” She confessed while her eyes fell to her hands as she fiddled with them before her.  “What ‘kind of girl’?” “You know...the kind that puts themselves into situations like this...for things like…” She paused. “For what happened tonight to happen at all. I am always weary of my surroundings and usually carry my keys between my knuckles-but...I was distracted-” “You think you asked for this?” “Maybe if I was more focused then they wouldn’t have-” “Are you seriously blaming yourself?!” He asked in disbelief. He couldn’t imagine how a girl with her beauty, grace, and charitable heart could be so daft in a moment like this, but alas, that is how she appeared to him. Her eyes looked to him in fear of his voice raising and yelling or even bringing a hand to her. But instead, he looked at her with pain in thinking she thought this had been her fault. “I really doubt anyone who has endured what you have had asked for it...besides...there were two of them and one of you…” Although she couldn’t dispute this, she still couldn’t bring herself to agree with him, as she felt deep down inside that maybe she had wanted it to happen, since she hadn’t fought against it. “I saw how scared you were…” Her eyes moved up to him as he stood and rose above her, nearly an entire foot. His close proximity forced her to grow intimidated by him as she found it difficult to breathe in his presence. Even if he didn’t see himself in the way she saw him, she found his light green eyes, sunkissed skin, and growing muscles to be incredibly alluring-but it had been his caring words and kind heart that had made her wish more than ever that perhaps she had met him first or maybe that she wasn’t married at all. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there sooner...I wish I could have kept them from hurting you…” He paused, realizing if he kept speaking in such a way that perhaps he would confess that he was attracted to her in a way between like and love-if there was a word for such a thing. “I wish they could...I wish they could see how good you are and how much they took from you...I wish they could have more than the need of stitches...I wish I could take the memories of tonight from you.” “Maybe not all of them…” She spoke in a weak voice while looking to him with a smirk. “What the hell is going on?!” A male voice interrupted them. Both Zane and Candace looked to the man in temporary fear as they knew how things must look from his perspective; the perspective of a possessive husband whose wife was currently in the locker room with a man who was incredibly attractive and in close proximity to his wife.