Love Tap(25)

“Not yet, but he should be any minute,” she responds, pulling her hair up into a ponytail.

I nod, looking around the place. I’m not sure where to put my stuff, or if there’s even a locker room for females. Thomas did say he didn’t train women, so it wouldn’t surprise me if there’s not one.

Cate heads towards me, her hands on her hips. A black sports bra and spandex shorts is all that she’s wearing.

“Don’t let them push you around. There’s a reason I’m the only female around here.” I turn my head, not sure what she’s going on about. “I don’t put up with their shit. They push, I push back twice as hard. You want to fight amongst them, you’ll have to push five times as hard.”

The door opens letting in a whoosh of air. Thomas walks in with a thermos of coffee and ball cap lowered on his face.

“You came.” His tone of voice indicating he’d hoped I hadn’t.

“Of course, a deal’s a deal.” I shrug, my hand gripping the straps of my bag like a life line.

“Deal is off,” he clips.

“What?!”

“I have a contract with Camden, and he’s not keen on the idea of me training you,” Thomas explains, striding behind the main counter to put his stuff away.

“Too bad, we made a bet!” I remind him, following closely behind him.

“Easy HellCat.” His eyes snap to mine. “I have someone coming to help train you. She’s good at what she does. She helps coach a couple of fighters who come through here.”

Glancing behind me I look at Cate, curious as to what she thinks.

She shrugs. That doesn’t help.

Looking back at Thomas, I cross my arms and eye him suspiciously.

“Who is she, this trainer?”

“Her name is Debs.” He sips his coffee right out of the thermos, his eyes peeking just above the top. The door opens and the wind blows posters along the wall. “Speak of the devil.” He juts his chin toward the door.

A short stalky woman rushes through the door, the wind blowing her red hair everywhere. She has on a green hoody and black stretchy looking capris.

“Debs, this is…” he pauses, eyeing me to find the right words, “HellCat, good luck.”

She turns, her hands frantically smoothing out the rats nest the wind caused of her thin hair.

“Tate. My name is Tate.” I smile.

Her bright green eyes meet mine, they’re fierce looking.

“Tate, I’m Debs.” She smacks her gum, walking toward me. “Let’s get one thing straight. If you don’t give me all you got, then we’re done. I ain’t got time for little girls looking for a life altering experience. You want a thrill, do a line of cocaine and play hopscotch on the train tracks.” She lowers her head, her eyes penetrating me like daggers.

Cate clears her throat, catching my attention. She uses her hands like she’s pushing something. Push back.

Push back. Years ago I would have set this woman straight. Seems I lost a lot more than my heart when I moved to LA.

Digging deep, I find my bravado and pull it out.

“Well, you got one thing straight. I’m not looking for some lady on a power trip. I need someone who knows what they’re doing, and has the patience to teach me what I need to know. If control is what you’re after, then coach some cheerleaders,” I jab. My stomach flutters with butterflies. A rush of adrenaline surfs through my limbs, and a wicked smile forms on my face. Damn, that felt good.

Her lips curl into a small smile.

“I think we will do just fine.” Her freckled nose twitches. “Lets get you taped up, and see what you’re made of.”

Debs props her foot on the bench in the locker room. Apparently they do have a women’s bathroom, but a lot of the room in here is used for storage. There’s old boxing bags, and equipment sitting in the showers.

“You know how to wrap your hands?” Debs asks, grabbing on my palms.

“Yeah,” I reply, but that doesn’t stop her from continuing. She loops my thumb in the hole at the end of the wrap and starts winding it around my wrists and hands.

“Ok, so I drew up your dietary plan,” Cate states, walking into the locker room.

“Dietary plan?” I scrunch my nose. I knew this was coming, I just dread what it entails.

“You want to be serious about your training, eating is one of the biggest priorities,” Debs adds, wrapping the tape between each of my fingers.

“You need to follow this religiously.” Cate hands me the folder to my hand that isn’t being strangled with boxing tape.

I can’t eat sugar, fast food, soda, chocolate, cheese, and the list goes on. I knew fighters ate a pretty clean diet but this is going to be brutal.

“Do I get to eat popcorn? It’s my favorite snack.” I look through the papers that are labeled with calories, and fat intake.

“No. I mean, you can if its air popped I suppose. Just don’t drown it in butter, that defeats the purpose of air popping it,” Cate instructs. I frown. I love burnt buttered popcorn. I might die without it.

“Do I get a cheat day?” I close the folder and set it down. I can’t look at it anymore. I might cry.

“No,” Debs barks.

“Yes, you get a cheat day,” Cate objects. “If anything you’re underweight.”