It's so hard to keep this smile from my face
Losing control, yeah, I'm all over the place
Clowns to the left of me, Jokers to the right
Here I am, stuck in the middle with you
Stuck in the Middle with You - Stealers Wheel
Right. Left. Right. Right. Left. Right. Left. Left. Right.
It was like a dance, Logan thought as he jumped from side to side, pretending the punching bag was his worst enemy. He began to imagine a man trying tear him limb from limb.
Hazel eyes. Unruly hair. A menacing glare. Just like him.
He hit that punching bag with such a strong force that it began to wheeze each time his fist came in contact with it. He moved to the side when the punching bag came at him and took the shape of a familiar face. His blank expression turned into that of a snarl and he gave the punching back a left hook, then another, and an uppercut with his right fist.
He could hear the voice in his head - telling him he was stupid and worthless, calling him a runt...
It was too much for a man to handle.
The sweat dripped off his nose as he grunted and pounded his fists into the punching bag. They were sore and little spots of red appeared on the dingy bag but he did not stop.
"You won't amount to shit just like your own goddamn father!"
Grunt. Punch. Grunt.
"I hope you choke on your blood just like he did, you worthless litte shits - the both of you!"
The punching bag was smothering him, he couldn't get it off. He hugged and pushed but it felt like the damn thing had sprouted arms as was trying to crush him. He couldn't breathe and everything was turning black. Logan had to fight it off or it would kill him.
"Get off me, you son of a bitch!" Logan yelled, arms swinging at nothing. Deadpan silence was all that could be heard and when he looked around, everyone was staring at him like he'd just ripped someone to shreds. The sound of sand spilling onto concrete caught his attention and he turned to see the punching bag split open and gutted with sand spilling onto the floor.
She knew she was going to this fight before she threw the slip away.
Being invited to watch two large men beat one another to a bloody pulp was not considered a date. Ororo knew this even though she made an effort to dress decent and slipped on fitted blue jeans she'd run away in and a lacy white tank top. She tied her hair into a ponytail and made a grab for the wig sitting next to the sink. Her hand moved away slowly and she lifted her head to look up at her reflection. Though the dim lighting was terrible and made her look like she was a sickly brow color, she was glad to have enough light to apply eyeliner and gloss her lips.
She walked off, forgetting about the wig and grabbed her jacket. She twirled it over the back of her shoulders and her heart froze as she heard footsteps coming towards her door. Her knife was in her bosom and she reached her hand down her shirt and pulled it out. Her thumb flicked against it and the blade came out with a quick "snap".
No matter how tough she appeared to be, she knew he was tougher, faster, and stronger. She backed into the wall and began to breathe heavy as her heartbeat pounded into her ears. The footsteps began to sound like stomps as they quickly approached her room.
A knock on the door made her gasp and she dashed into the bathroom where she shut the door and frantically locked it. Closing her eyes, she slid down the plastered white wall and her backside hit the tiled floor. She buried her face in her hands and wished herself into nothingness. Perhaps if she disappeared into nothing, she would be at her safest. Things would be so much easier if she wasn't around.
The voices had faded and so had the footsteps and Ororo looked at the blade in her shaking hand.
She was pathetic, she realized as she was sitting here in the huddle of a motel bathroom and hiding from a man that probably didn't give a damn where she went in the first place. Of course, when she had run with his money, she would bet every last cent of that money that he was going to come after her. It was only a matter of time...
Deciding to take the wig after all, she stood and went back to stand in front of the mirror, pulling her own flowing white locks from the ponytail. Her hands were shaking as she stuffed platinum underneath a caramel colored wig. Honey blond it would be for the night.
She sat in the back, away from most of the crowd and her eyes never left him. He stepped in the cage in a pair of fitted blue jeans and a white tank top that clung to him. His boots were scuffed and old but they just added to his sex appeal. He hadn't bothered with his hair though she didn't think it would matter if he fixed it or not. His opponent was a tall man with dark greasy hair and a charming yellow tinted smile. She felt her stomach turn at the mere sight of him. He seemed the type of man to destroy anything in his path. He was at least a foot taller than Logan but he didn't seem to be intimidated by this little difference at all. In fact, Ororo thought that perhaps Logan liked the idea.
He would after all beat this man into nothing.
She licked her lips when he turned to face her side of the crowd and his fingers slipped through the cage, curving them over the rusted metal and looking around.
Was he... searching for her?
Cherish the thought, she thought sarcastically and her eyes darted to the portly middle aged man stepping in the center of the cage. He shouted and his voice sounded like an explosion as it spread through the crowd. A man in front of her that was already too inebriated to function, yelped in pain and stuck a finger into his ear.
"The Wolverine!" He shouted with a half-hearted smile. Something told her that he would rather be in the crowds drinking beer and swearing loudly, smacking a woman's backside like the rest of the men... instead of being responsible for two crazy bastards trying to kill one another in a cage.
Logan pulled away from the cage and she thought for a fleeting moment that he had noticed her but it passed when he turned and the crowd cheered and jeered.
"The Bionic Man."
The "Bionic Man" smiled and flexed his muscles for the crowd. A few of the women made sounds like they were swooning and Ororo could feel herself rolling her eyes. It didn't get much more disgusting than that. It couldn't have.
Of course, she was soon eating her words because Mr. Bionic pulled off his tank top to reveal a broad chest with tight black curls for hair in the center of it. She turned to Logan and she couldn't hold back her smile when she saw him smirking. That smirk was what set the mood. The Bionic Man simply snarled at him and when the portly man (Ororo assumed the referee) finished talking, the Bionic Man came charging at Logan. It was as if he knew exactly what this man's plans were. When he turned his elbow connected with the Bionic Man's jaw and he went staggering back and swearing.
Logan just chuckled and walked towards him with this swagger that made Ororo's knees buckle. He involuntarily flexed his muscles as he brought his arms across his stomach and pounded his fists together.
"You wanna' hit me?" She heard him call out though it was hard to hear with all the women swooning and the men yelling. "Then hit me!"
He and the Bionic Man both ran into one another, fists connecting with each others jaw. Logan staggered back but he growled and pounced on the Bionic Man, bringing his fist down repeatedly until crimson stained his knuckles and he pulled back.
Resting on his knees, he was panting as he glared down at the Bionic Man. His face was swollen and his eyes were turning purple and Ororo could see that the corner of his bottom lip was swollen. And yet, through all of this the Bionic Man slowly sat up and spit a mouthful of blood in Logan's face.
Hitting Logan in the eyes and making him turn his head away, the Bionic Man stood up quickly, bringing his foot back and stomping it into Logan's side.
"No!" Ororo heard herself cry.
Doubled over in what she could only assume was pain, he slowly turned and looked over his shoulder and there stood Ororo, giving him the biggest grin she could. He smirked at her and was knocked over by the Bionic Man, causing a few people in the crowd to "ooh" as if they knew the sort of pain he was going through. He fell on his back and tussled with the Bionic Man, until he was once again standing on his own two feet.
It was like slow motion as Ororo watched Logan bring this man down to what could be considered a great and bloody mass. There were only a few bruises and cuts here and there on Logan's sides and his face but all in all, he turned out much better than the Bionic Man. Once Logan was done, he laid sprawled out and his chest rose and fell slowly.
"The Wolverine!" The referee yelled, running back into the cage and obviously startled at how fast the fight had ended.
The Bionic Man's trainer had come running into the cage as soon as his back connected with the ground, making a loud thud. He bounced and the people went absolutely wild for Logan.
He didn't look up at them, he didn't lift his arm in the air when the referee had come back in to announce his winnings, and he didn't look up in the crowds for her. He simply walked out of the cage and wiped blood from the corner of his mouth.
She had come to see him fight.
The thought ran through his head like the way he ran in the evenings with his younger brother, racing one another home to beat the moon rising and eat their mother's dinner.
He couldn't win and just not show off though Tom reminded him about how showing off would get him sore balls and a broken nose as he walked through the back hall and down to the changing room. He usually left all his important items there, such as the keys to his motorcycle and his cigars. Sadly, they were the most important things in his life.
Why did she have to wear that goddamn ugly wig? He loved her hair. It seemed to glow among everything else in the room. She stood out enough with just the wig on but he bet men would have been falling over their tongues had she not worn that stupid wig. Maybe the wig was a good idea after all.
"Here! The Bionic Man was quick money!" Tom said through his thick accent and tossed Logan a wad of unmarked bills, sealed tightly with a beige rubber band. Logan looked at Tom and just for the hell of it, unfolded the money and began to count it in front of him.
"Fuck off, Logan," Tom said in amused tone and Logan chuckled as he headed back to the changing room to get his keys and cigars.
A little piece of him hoped she'd be back here, waiting and ready for him to get a second chance at their first encounter. She hadn't climaxed and though it never bothered him with the many whores he met on the street, he felt the urge to impress her at all times at all costs. She wasn't like any of these women he picked up and took home for a quick fuck on the living room floor. She was in a world of her own and he didn't know where she was from, nor did he care, he just knew that he was intoxicated by her.
Everything about her.
Now he sounded crazy.
That voice in the back of his head argued that she may just be the type of woman to hook him and run with his money. He knew nothing about her and this moment he didn't want to. He just wanted her. Even if she was dangerous, he was willing to take this risk.
He'd just have to find out.
With legs like that and a great pair of tits to match, it was a risk worth taking.
He folded the money as tightly as he could and slipped it down into his front pocket, wincing a bit. The Bionic Man tried to break his ribs and he almost succeeded, had he not looked up and spotted her in the crowd. The angle he turned had made him ready for whatever charge or attack the Bionic Man was going to send his way. Didn't 'bionic' mean a person's performance was better than average? Why did it take barely thirty minutes for him to beat that fucker? No complaints, fights that ended less than thirty minutes were an extra one hundred to the winner. He was fine with that.
He needed to wash the blood from his hands and tend to theses cuts on his face. The sooner he could leave, the better. He hated the crowd before, during, and after each and every fight he had participated in. He could get nice and pissed in his own company just fine.
"Wolverine, huh?"
A soft accented voice knocked him from his thoughts.
He slowly turned and nodded with a grunt.
There she stood across from him, wearing a pair of blue jeans that clung to her in all the right places. Her nipples were perked and he could see them through her thin white tank. He did not hide his groan as he finished putting his money down deeper into his pocket. He picked up his keys and cigars, shoving one into his mouth and walked over to her.
For the life of him, he couldn't remember her full name except that 'Ro was in it, so that's what he called her and leaned forward to press his nose along her neck. She shivered against him, he could feel it and pressed his growing erection against her leg.
"Let's get outta' here," he said huskily into her ear.
And that was just what they did.
