Eye Of The Storm - DK3 (11 page)

Weeks of pushing herself and weeks of sharpening rusting skills now came to bear as Dar loosened up and tried some more advanced moves, which she hadn’t bothered with in her earlier matches. Her opponent countered one, then backed off a little, apparently realizing the skill level facing him was higher than he’d expected. He tried a counter, and Dar absolutely nailed him with a block and a throw over her shoulder that made his bones audibly rattle.

The whistle blew and she stepped back, noticing the crowd slowly gathering around the mat, as the other bouts ended. Her name moved up a tier, and with a sense of shock, she realized she was positioned to come in no worse than fourth in the competition.

That was great, wasn’t it?
Dar was now aware of the growing crowd, most of them watching the match that just started, between a tall, aggressive redhead and a smaller, blonde haired man whose quick style and fluid motion Dar admired. She concentrated on it and was surprised when a voice invaded her close presence, calling her name. She turned.

“Yes?”

It was the match coordinator, in all her pink glory. “I’m sorry…you’re Roberts?”

“Yeah. What’s wrong?” Dar turned and faced the blonde woman.

“Did I step outside the circle or something?”

“Oh. No, no.” Pinky shook her head. “No. The guy you were supposed to fight next just sprained his ankle.” She made a mark on the sheet. “He forfeited, so you got that one. So you’ve only got the one match left.” She looked up. “Whoever wins this one. So don’t wander off.”

“Sure.” Dar gave her a look. “I was going to see if there were any good nature trails around, but I guess I’ll hold off.”

Pinky looked up at her. “Hah hah.” She turned and left, as Dar merely shook her head.

“What’s up?” Ken came over, having finished his day. “Hey. Third.

Not too damn bad.” He slapped Dar on the back. “John over there knocked me on my butt in the fourth round. So I guess it’s between you and him. He’s gonna beat Rusty.”

Dar almost snorted her water as the words penetrated. “What?”

Ken stared at her. “You didn’t realize? The guy who just conked out was in second place. Whichever one of you wins the next one, gets the trophy.” He almost laughed at Dar’s expression. “C’mon Dar. Don’t look like you’ve been hit by a flying fish, okay? You’ve been kicking everyone’s ass all day long. You’re the talk of the match.”

“THAT LAST ONE thar’s trouble,” Andrew commented, sucking on a straw poking out of his soda pop.

“Yeah?” Kerry had found herself getting excited, as the energy in the
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room rose, and everyone gathered around the ring for what was turning out to be the bout to decide the winner. “Well, Dar’s doing pretty good anyway, right?”

“Sure. Sure. Worst she’ll be is second. But see…I know my kid.”

Andrew rested his forearm on the bench. “She don’t like being anything but first.”

“Wonder where she got that from?” Kerry smiled, but knew he was telling the truth. “Do you think she can beat that guy?”

“Depends.”

“On?” Kerry rested her elbows on her knees, her back aching from the long afternoon sitting on the hard benches.

“How bad she wants to.”

Kerry drummed her fingers on the bench for a moment, then stood up, wincing a little before she carefully stepped down the mini bleachers and made her way through the milling crowd of sweaty, cotton clad people to Dar.

Her lover turned as she came up and gave her a smile, stepped back from the clump of people and ducked her head a little against the noise.

“Hey there.”

“Hi.” Kerry glanced at the board, then gave her a little pat on the back, a grin taking over her face.

Dar cleared her throat and shrugged, then laughed sheepishly. “Not too bad, huh? I didn’t expect that.”

“I did.” Kerry sniffed, blinking innocently as she peered around. The last bout was over, and the tall redhead, the winner, was resting before the final match started. “Your father’s been giving me pointers.”

“On the fighting?”

Green eyes slid up her body and twinkled. “That too.” She leaned closer. “You know something? He’s really proud of you.” Dar merely shrugged in response, but a coral blush colored her skin. “So am I, by the way. Maybe we could all go out afterward and celebrate, huh?”

Dar looked thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe…it depends.”

“On what?” Kerry asked, just before they called Dar’s name to come back up to the mat.

“What it is we’re celebrating.” A faint smile played around Dar’s lips. “And right now, that guy’s between me and sharing a sundae with my dad.” Her head angled a little as she eased through the crowd, giving her a slightly more predatory look.

“He’s toast.” Kerry put her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels. “I’ll get the marmalade.”

THE BOUT WAS mostly a blur. Dar stood on the edge of the mat after the bell rang and sucked air into her lungs, trying to catch her breath. She clearly remembered going into the match, but now that it was over, the details were fading rapidly.

Her body was covered in sweat, though, and she was feeling the 56
Melissa Good
beginnings of bruises that were going to make waking up the next morning a little less than comfortable. She was hot and sticky and wanted little more than a cold shower and a nice, large, dripping, oozing with caramel and chocolate with maybe, maybe a cherry on top sundae.

After all, she deserved it.

She’d won the goddamned meet and this last match had been a toughie, since John, the tall redhead, was the local I-am-the-great-American-hope-pseudo-sensei that every decent sized martial arts community seemed to spawn like unwanted weasels, who terrorized the lighter belts and had more testosterone than sense.

Well.
Dar caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and turned, to see the organizer heading towards her with a completely obnoxious looking trophy that she realized she was going to have to accept and carry home.

“I think you should keep it on your desk.” Kerry slipped in next to her and gave her a slap on the butt. “Dar, you rock.”

“Ohhh. No, no, no, no. I think you should keep it on
your
desk,” her boss corrected. “Since
you
wanted one.”

“Hey. Congratulations.” The match organizer reached out a hand.

“Haven’t seen you around before. But I hope I will again. You really stirred up some excitement around here.” He was maybe in his mid twenties, had cute freckles, and almost orange hair, and sported a slim, muscular body. “I’m Shaun Ryan, by the way.”

Dar returned the handshake. “Thanks. It was um…fun.” She accepted the trophy with her other hand. “I used to compete around ten years back, I was just sort of getting back into it.”

His eyes opened wider. “Yeah? Wow. Well, you’re hot, let me tell you. It was a pleasure watching. You do sports for a living, or…”

He sidled a step closer and Dar realized she was being flirted with.

“No. I’m in the computer business.”

“Who isn’t?” Richie laughed. “Hey, listen. You got any plans? A bunch of us,” he gestured towards a group of the competitors, regular cronies apparently, “are going over to Chevys. You interested?”

“No thanks.” Dar gave him a brief smile. “I’ve got a date. But thanks for asking.”

“No problem. No problem.” Richie held up both hands. “Maybe next time…and hey, congratulations again, okay?”

Dar watched him rejoin the group, and by the regretful shrugs and glances in her direction, gathered she was the topic of conversation. The man she’d beaten wasn’t part of the group, she noticed then, as he walked off with four or five of the others, apparently their own little clique.

“A date?” Kerry elbowed her. “He liked you.”

Dar gave her a look. “Here.” She thrust the huge trophy at her lover.

“I believe this is yours…and stop looking at me like that.”

Kerry snickered. “Like what? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dar.” She gave the black belt tied around the taller woman a tug.

“Yeah, yeah.” Dar sighed. “All right. Let me go shower and I’ll be
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right out. You owe me ice cream, if I recall.” Her eyes went to the stands, finding an inconspicuously hidden figure in one dark corner. “Did you ask…”

“He already said yes,” Kerry murmured. “Go on. We’ll wait for you over there.”

Dar nodded and headed into the locker room, which was mostly empty. One or two women were just finishing up their changing, and the nearest looked up and gave Dar a little wave as she came in.

“Hey. Great job.” The blonde woman smiled, offering a hand as Dar passed. “I’m Sheila. And you’re Dar, is it?”

“Yep. Thanks.” Dar briefly clasped her hand and went to her locker, opened it, and removed her towel. “You did pretty well yourself. You a regular in this bunch?”

“Eh.” Sheila waggled a hand. “When I’m into it. You know how it goes. I cycle through this, triathlon, blading…I’m in the chop socky phase right now.”

Dar chuckled. “Yeah. I’m just getting back into it myself.” She slung her towel over her shoulder and started towards the shower.

“Hey. That your girlfriend out there with you?” Sheila called out, unexpectedly.

Dar hesitated briefly, then nodded. “Yeah, why?”

Sheila gave her a double thumbs up. “She’s a babe. Nice job.” Then she walked out, whistling.

Dar chewed her lip thoughtfully, then resumed her trek. “Well, thanks. I think so,” she commented to the minute fungus on the wall as she turned the cold water on, waiting a moment to achieve lukewarmdom before stepping into the shower’s path. Cold showers really didn’t have much meaning in Florida, naturally, where the water took on the temperature of the pipes, which by necessity were near or aboveground. But this felt refreshing, and she stood for a moment, just letting it run over her body before she scrubbed the sweat off.

When she was finished, she let the water run again, as she leaned back against the wall and allowed the reality of what she’d just done seep in.

Not too damn bad, Roberts.
She grinned at her reflection, seen through the water’s distortion.
Not too damn bad.
Especially that last one, where for a few minutes, she’d felt herself go all out and push past her normal caution, letting loose a wild energy that had both surprised and delighted her.

With a chuckle, Dar finally shut the water off and toweled her body mostly dry, wrapping the fabric around her as she padded back out to the locker, her sweat soaked gear hung over one arm.

Funny,
she mused idly as she changed.
I though this place had emptied
out. Guess there were a few stragglers left after all.
Certainly, the locker room’s attendance had grown, as various women busied themselves earnestly about the place.
Whatever.

Dar folded her gear neatly and tucked it inside the gym bag, then 58
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coiled up her belt and added that, as well, before running her fingers through her damp hair and shouldering the bag’s strap. As she headed towards the entrance, she saw a familiar blonde head poke in, and she cocked her head at the half amused, half outraged look on her lover’s face. “What’s up?”

“Are you done being the center of attention?”

“Huh?” Dar looked behind her in puzzlement. “What are you talking about? C’mon. Let’s go. I hear that ice cream calling my name.” She put a hand on Kerry’s shoulder and steered her towards the exit, where her father waited, none to patiently.

“Oh. So…you didn’t hear the blonde with the crew cut come out here and yell for everyone to come look. That you were naked in the shower?”

Kerry inquired archly. “Wow. Gotta check for—careful there, Dar. Don’t trip.”

“She didn’t,” Dar choked out indignantly.

Kerry pulled down her sunglasses and peered over them at her lover.

“You’re their new poster child, Dardar.”

Dar groaned. “Just get me to some ice cream, please?” She covered her eyes and allowed Kerry to lead the way.

THEY ENDED UP raiding the local Publix and escaping back to the island when three possible ice cream parlors turned out to be packed with people or, in one case, a huge children’s birthday party.

So now they were home, and Dar was sprawled comfortably on the couch with a huge bowl of ice cream resting on her stomach. Andrew had taken over the love seat with a similar dish, and Kerry was seated on the floor next to Dar, sucking contentedly on a root beer float.

Chino, of course, roamed hopefully from human to human, the tip of her black nose already white and sticky with ice cream. The large screen TV was on, but mostly silent, with scenes of ancient Asia playing across it.

“Mmm. This is a nice way to end a really disgusting week,” Kerry commented around her straw.

“Yeah?” Andrew looked up. “What’cha get into, kumquat? More of that gibberish you two are always talking about?”

“Not really.” Dar sucked on her spoon as she remembered the phone call she’d gotten the previous day. “I heard from Mom.”

There was an awkward silence and stillness before Andrew went back to his ice cream. “Didja now?”

“Yeah. Um…Gran passed on. She wanted me to come up for the service.” Dar exhaled softly.

“You gonna go?” her father asked.

Dar considered the question. “I-I should.”

“But you don’t wanta.”

“Not really, no,” the dark haired woman answered honestly. “I haven’t seen any of them in damn near ten years. I don’t know.”

“Mmph.” Andrew slid a little lower in the cushions. “The old lady was always partial to you, Dardar.” He messed around with the ice cream a minute. “And it’s a…it’s not a bad thing for you t’see your mother. I’d um…I’d like to know how she’s doing.”

Kerry tipped her head back and let it make contact with her lover’s arm in mute comfort, feeling Dar’s hand come to rest on her shoulder in silent response.

“All right. I’ll go.” Dar took a spoon of ice cream and mouthed it, able to convince herself easily that her father wanting her to do it was 60
Melissa Good
reason enough. “I was surprised she called.”

Andrew put his bowl down on the table and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Dardar, I’m sorry about that,” he told her softly.