Okay, here is the next installment to Traditions. It's a little short, but it's still good. Hope you guys enjoy.
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"Come on, come on, push yourself Declan. You've got to hit harder. Harder!"
Declan stepped back and did a solid round house kick into the large pad in Fergus's hand. Controlling his momentum, he got back into a steady rhythm and started hitting multiple combos into the safety pads.
"There we go Dec, at a boy." Fergus could feel the power of his student's punches increase with every blow he landed into the pads.
They had been training for the past three hours, and had not let up for even one second. They couldn't afford to, really. Declan had entered himself into the Cage Warriors Fighting Championship, and needed to stay in shape in order to make it past the semi-finals. He had easily past the preliminary rounds and was training twice as hard to make sure he didn't screw up in the semi-finals.
"Okay, Dec, I think that's it for today." Fergus pushed him back with the pads. "You done good, boyo. Why don't you go over to the weights and unwind for a minute before headin' out."
Declan nodded his head. "Yes sir." Extending his right arm, he waited for Fergus to take off his pad too properly shaking his hand.
Declan smiled as he looked down at his mentor and trainer. The grizzled, middle aged man had been one of the best fighters of his time until one fatal kick to the knee sent his well-established career spiraling. Walking around on a limp knee during a match didn't do you much good. At only fifty-two years old, the man still looked to be in his prime. There was no doubt in
Declan's mind that if anyone decided to take on Fergus McDuffin, they would be in for a world of hurt.
Over the five years he had known him, Fergus had only ever treated Declan with the utmost respect. He was a great mentor to have and had taught him everything he needed to know about surviving inside the ring. Many of the other fighter's in the gym had questioned Declan's decision about having Fergus as a trainer. A lot of the people there didn't really see him as anything other than a washed up fighter with nothing else better to do. But Declan knew what kind of a man Fergus was, and that was all that mattered to him. He knew better than anyone how the frightening game worked inside and out, and it was that kind of expertise that Declan needed in order to win the Championship.
Declan had made his way over and was now looking at the weights sitting on the rack. Picking up the twenty pound weight, Declan securely strapped the heavy object around his waist. Once he had shuffled over to the pull up bar on the wall, he jumped up and made sure he had a good grip before starting his chin ups.
Declan was concentrating so hard on his second set that he failed to notice the small group that had formed in front of him.
"Looky here boys. You all reckon he's trying to beef up enough to make wait for the semi-finals."
Declan didn't bother to look at the idiots in front of him. He knew exactly who's sinister voice it was.
"Have ya come to see what a real man looks like, Jagger?"
Jagger smiled, and looked at his other two companions before shrugging. "What would ya know about a real man?"
"Well for one thing," Declan grunted, "my eight year old brother is more of a man then you, and could probably kick your ass."
Jagger laughed. "Last time I saw your sister, she seemed to think I was man enough for her." The two men beside him laughed at his jest.
Declan didn't bother to acknowledge him. He knew Jagger was just trying to bait him. Still, the comment about his sister irked him to no end. He knew his eighteen year old sister Darcy fancied Jagger; even went as far as to flirt with him one day when he took her and her friends to the car park. He had half a mind to forbid Darcy from ever seeing him again, but decided against it. Jagger was only talking to her because he knew it would bug the hell out of him. Heaven only knew what Declan would have done if Jagger was actually interested in Darcy.
"I see you're putting in extra time before the big match coming up?"
God, this guy would not shut up, Declan thought inwardly.
"Yeah," Jagger drawled. "I guess that would be the smart thing to do. Don't want another repeat of last year, now do we?"
Declan paused mid lift and opened his eyes to give him a hard stare. Jagger was walking into forbidden territory with that comment. Most of the people around the gym knew better then to talk about last year's preliminary fights with Declan. It had been his first time entering into the Cage Warriors Championship, and Declan had figured that he would have easily made it past the preliminary rounds. He had been told his first opponent was a middle aged martial arts teacher. Not thinking anything of it, he went into the ring thinking he had already won his first fight. No one had bothered to tell him that the middle aged man was also a high ranking army veteran. Declan had been knocked out cold towards the end of the first round.
Never had he been so embarrassed in his entire life. First major fight in his entire career, and some old guy had knocked him on his ass without even trying. What had made it even worse was that his family had been in the audience. Having to leave the stadium knowing he had gotten his ass beat wasn't nearly as humiliating as having his family watch him fail.
This year, he had vowed to work just as hard in order to redeem himself. So far, he had kept his promise. This time around, he had made to the semi-finals, and he wasn't going to allow anything to distract him or mess up his chance of making it to the finals. Not even the spiky headed son of a bitch, Jagger.
"As I recall it, you weren't even able to qualify for the tournament." He continued his chin ups. "I think it had to do with you almost gauging someone's eye. Those illegal moves get you nowhere man."
"Oooh," Jagger gave Declan a hard stare of his own. "Getting a little tense there pretty boy."
"Fuck off, Jagger." Declan spoke through gritted teeth.
"Why should I?" Jagger was about to make a move towards Declan when Fergus came up and placed a hand on his chest.
"I think that's enough for one day boys." He spoke between the two. "Or would you all rather settle this in the ring?"
Jumping down from the pull up bar, Declan come up to Fergus and stared Jagger in the eye. Bath boys glared at each other, neither wanting to be the first to look away.
"Well," Fergus spoke. "What's it going to be boys?"
Both boys continued to stare as if they hadn't heard a word. After a moment, Jagger scoffed and shook his head.
"Be a waste of my time." With that, Jagger turned away and walked off to another corner of the gym; lackeys in tow.
Fergus whistled as he watched the small group leave. "Man, I tell ya," he gruffed. "I ain't never seen a kid more rotten in my life."
"He's not rotten," Declan spoke as he removed the weight from his chest. "He's full of shit."
Fergus laughed. "Well put. So I'll see you again tomorrow?"
"Bright an early." Patting his trainer on the back, Declan left to go change in the locker room.
Ten minutes later, Declan was walking out of the front and heading toward his truck. He opened the door and tossed his gym bag onto the floor of the cab. Declan sighed once he had his butt firmly seated behind the wheel. His body was screaming with aches and pains that only a hot shower could cure. Hopefully all his hard work would pay off.
Shutting the door and putting the key into the ignition, Declan was prepared to turn on the car when something shiny caught his eye. Turning to his passenger seat, he stared at the infernal object that had been sitting in his car for the past three days.
Declan didn't know why he still had the stupid purse. He would have thought that the girl would have tried to reclaim it once she realized her purse was gone. He had stayed at the disco for an extra hour in hopes that she would come back looking for it. When she didn't show up, he decided to keep it and figured he'd find her himself. Three days later, he was still at a loss as to where to start looking. From what he could tell, the ID in her wallet told him that her name was Cheyanne Turner and that she was an American citizen form Dallas, Texas. A further look at the belongings in her purse told him that she was currently attending the University of Liverpool. When he had found out she was a student he had gotten the idea that he could go down to the university and give it to her. But he quickly tossed that idea when he realized he wouldn't know how to find her on such a large campus.
So far, the purse had only proved to be a reminder of how much control he'd lost that night. Declan licked his lips once more. He could still remember what her pouty lips felt like on his.
Turning the key, Declan revved up the old engine and put the gear into drive. No sooner had he lifted his foot off the break when he began hearing a faint humming sound coming from the passenger side of the car. A little confused, Declan picked up the purse and opened the small clutch. The faint humming sound got louder as he lifted up a small phone from the inside. An unknown number was calling. Seeing as how it wasn't his phone, Declan debated whether or not to answer it.
Cheyanne worriedly bit her thumb nail as she waited for someone to pick up the phone. She had been frantically searching for her phone for the past twenty minutes when she realized it wasn't laying across her desk. She rarely ever used her phone outside of her room, and only took it out with her when she went to work. Normally, it would be sitting next to her laptop on her desk, but went she went to reach for it to make her weekly phone call back home, it wasn't there. Cheyanne had practically torn her room apart in search for it. After pacing the small dorm for five minutes, she had finally realized where she had last had her phone. She had taken with her to the night club and had left it in her purse...with Declan. Picking up the landline phone in the living room, she prayed that Declan was kind enough to have left it with one of the bartenders.
Cheyanne patiently waited for someone on the other end to answer. Finally after three rings, and gruff voice answered her phone.
"E'llo?"
"Hello?" She asked hesitantly. "Who is this?
"Well, who is this?"
"Um, my name is Cheyanne and you're actually talking on my phone. Who are you?
Declan couldn't believe his luck. "Who do ya t'ink it is, little dove?"
Cheyanne let out a sigh of relief before grunting. "I thought I told you not to call me that?"
"Yeah, well I don't take to kindly to having strange people give me orders."
"Whatever. Why do you have my phone?"
"It was in your purse."
"I know, but why do you still have my purse. Why didn't you turn it in to one of the bartender's or something?"
"Cause you told me to hold it." He said simply, as if it were the most obvious answer.
Cheyanne rubbed her temple. She was starting to get a headache.
"Look, I would just really appreciate it if we could just meet up so I can get my purse back."
"That sounds good to me." Cheyanne heard him exhale. "I'm tired of carrying this stupid thing."
"Great. So where would you like to meet up?"
"Doesn't matter to me."
