'Karma 'Smokin' Stone!'
Don't you dare turn your back on us, without even saying goodbye.'

I hear a familiar voice shouting behind me as I stroll down the hallway. I pause for a brief moment and turn around as I let out a soft chuckle. The director also stops in his tracks and leans against the wall while studying us without uttering a word.

'You're really leaving us, huh?'

'Sure am.
Can't say I'm gonna miss this place, the women in here are way too full of themselves.'

'Don't worry I'll hold down the fort, it's not like I'm going anywhere anyway.'

She smirks mischievously at me as I shake my head with a smile on my face.

'I'm sure you will.
But I meant you too, you know? Or should I remind you who kicked your ass three years ago?'

I say with a mocking tone while raising my fists at her. Chuckling she puts up her hands in surrender. Three years ago her arrogance became her downfall and at the time she took it pretty hard. Unfortunately, or maybe it was fortunate in hindsight, we shared a room. A lot of things happened but eventually, she understood. I bow to no one.

'Don't worry, I've learned my place. There's no winning from you, although I think I can stand my ground against the others in here.
Knock 'm dead Karma.'

She smiles at me as I turn back around and start walking off. She hasn't changed one bit though. I think with a grin as the director besides me also starts walking again and opens the door for me as I hear her shout from behind us.

'Until next time.'

'I don't plan on it, but you never know.'

I stick my hand in the air as a goodbye as I leave without looking back. Finally. I think, exhaling a breath as we both walk through the hallway and the director leads me outside. Once we're outside and I'm able to breathe some fresh air he comes to a halt turning towards me.

'I hope your planning on sticking to that statement.'

He says both honest and bothered at the same time. I can't help but laugh as I see the look on his face. It's almost as if he wants me to stay here, not sure if I should be flattered or offended...

'It's not often I let one of my inmates out, while a part of me is hoping they would actually stay. For other reasons than the obvious.'

'That's not very nice, director. I did my time and you wanna keep me locked up in this hellhole even longer?'

I laugh. That's right, I've been locked up in prison for these last three years. Three fucking long years, but today I'm finally getting out. Free at last.

'Karma Stone, you sure are something. All the top dogs before you only cared about power, most of them murdered and are here either for a very long time or for life. You on the other hand almost got forced into the position. A legendary underground boxer who got arrested and got three years for it.'

'Well, it's the annoying women in here are the ones at fault for that. I had no intention whatsoever of becoming a top dog in here. I just wanted to do my time, quietly..'

I say bitterly, still slightly irritated about it as the director lets out a bark of laughter.

'Even though you are in fact a fighter, you're the first one who actually managed to keep the peace between the women. That's why I'm a little reluctant to say goodbye.
I do wish you the best of luck though and I better not see you again in here unless it's visiting hours.'

'As I said. I don't plan on it.'

The director smiles, but on his face shows concern. I don't have to tell him I won't stop boxing, he already knows that. He's probably debating himself as to whether or not he should warn me what the cost might be if I continue this kind of lifestyle. I nod to him once, as if to say 'I know'. He nods back, understanding there is no changing my mind and walks past me back into the building while muttering 'Goodbye, miss Stone.'

I walk over to the parking lot and look around searching for the familiar car that should be here, but she isn't. I don't know what she's been up to these last few years, so I can't really complain now. I sigh as I throw my bag over my shoulder and start walking. My gaze drifting up, looking at the sky as I take a deep breath ...I'm finally out.

It wasn't my first time in jail, unfortunately, but in the past I had only been held for a month or two at the most. This time, however, I had to serve three years in detention. Some asshole had secretly been following me, trying to gather as much evidence as possible so they could keep me in jail this time around. Fortunately for me the pictures he had were a bit hazy so it barely made a difference in court, the only reason I got three years was that they actually caught me in a fight during the bust.

As I'm walking along the sidewalk thinking everything over, a car suddenly comes to a crashing halt before me. I lazily look back down into the car and see Kizzy behind the wheel as she rolls down the window.

'I got a call in name of a so-called 'friend' of yours, saying you finally got outta jail today.'

She says smiling happily, although I can hear the disgust in her voice. Typical. I had my inmate call her a few days ago since I wasn't allowed to use a phone. Something to do with threatening a lowlife with the cord a few months back, I don't know... I sigh to myself as I get into the car.

'Kizzy, not now.
I told you a hundred times already, I don't have friends. Besides, can't you let me enjoy my freedom even for a little while before lecturing me?'

'Yeah, yeah. You prefer the term companions, right? Well, I still don't like that.
So, how many times has it been now?'

She asks irritated and she starts driving the second I close the door behind me. I sigh softly while closing my eyes, she hasn't changed one bit.

'Five, I belie~

'Six. This was the sixth time I had to come to pick you up. I'm not a taxi business, you know? And more importantly, you shouldn't have been in jail six times at the age of twenty-seven!'

'Come on, don't be such a buzzkill. Besides, you'd come and get me even if it was the hundredth time. Not planning on that, though. You know me well enough. You know why I do what I do and we have an agreement on that, remember?'

'I know, but can't you just let me shout at you for a minute. I haven't seen you in three years!'

'Yeah, yeah... I got your packages by the way, thanks.'

Silence falls over us for a minute and I take the opportunity to gaze at the scenery drifting by. Seeing the outside world after being locked up between those concrete walls sure does feel good, but I've got more important things to do.

'Have you had a chance to find out?'

'Yeah, the WMC will be held in New Orleans in three months..'

'So we're going back home, huh?'

WMC, The World Mixed Championship, the biggest underground boxing event ever invented. It's only being held once every five years and luckily for me I got out just in time. This time around I will win that belt. As I declare that to myself Kizzy speaks up, her voice a little hesitant.

'There is one tiny problem though...
I've been to the bar on your behalf, but the owner doesn't want you there. He says it's too much of a risk for his business... That bust three years ago made a lot of owners wary of you, and word spread fast. It's being held in New Orleans because the Whitfields are backing up the security at the cafe there. It makes the chances of a bust a lot smaller, but the owner's afraid that when you'll show up it'll draw too much attention so he refuses to let you enter..'

'WHAT?!'

I spit, my voice seeping with anger. I earned to be in that bloody championship, goddammit! Because the WMC's are legendary, it isn't easy to get a spot as a fighter. It's the only championship where the riches bidders have to bet sky high on you before you can even enter in the first place. Their bids are what get you into the competition. I don't particularly like that part of the WMC's, but it isn't like I had a say in it. I never sweet talked the people who bet on me though, I fought hard and had to earn my place. I build my name because I'm renowned to never lose a fight in the ring.

'The hell?! I earned that bloody spot Kizzy! He isn't by any means in a position to turn me the fuck down from that championship!'

I grumble while gritting my teeth. They are already involved in something illegal since they are holding the damn event. For fucks sake they even got the Whitfields involved, but they are worried about me?! This is ridiculous!

'Chill out, alright. I'm not the one prohibiting you to go, so don't shoot the messenger!'

She snaps back at me and I cock my head to her in an apologetic way. I know she isn't at fault, but this seriously pisses me the fuck off.

'Just get me there, I'll make him reconsider.'

'Alright. Just look out for the Whitfields, okay? I know you have an iron fist, but even you stand no chance against their guns.'

'I'm not scared of the mob, Kizzy.'

'No, you're not scared of anything. That's what's worrying me even more.'

She whimpers while keeping her eyes on the road. It's true the Whitfields are dangerous people to get involved with since they are known as the biggest crime organization across America. They're involved in almost everything and anything that goes around in New Orleans. The police department doesn't even try to capture them. Hell, they're probably either involved with them too, threatened, or given a shit load of hush money.

'I have no intention of getting involved with the Whitfields. Yes, they play their own part in this, but they got nothing to do with me.
So, what have you been up to for the last three years?'

Kizzy starts to fill me in on everything she has done while I was gone. To my surprise, she more or less settled down at her family ranch, the place she avoided like the plague for the last fifteen years. Her family comes from a very old bloodline of Romani, Gypsies, and her family was also well known as horse whisperers. Legend says there is even magic in their blood. Though personally I think that's a lot of bogus, a fairy tale, a nice story that someone once made up and which has been passed down through the years for generations. They took me in as a kid when I was living on the streets and together we've traveled quite a bit.

Not common for Romani their lineage owned a ranch in New Orleans since the beginning of times and her parents lived there for most of the years I spend with them, at least until they got killed. After that night Kizzy tried to escape and get away from that place whenever she could and we traveled together from town to town, while I competed in several underground boxing tournaments.

She tells me her grandmother passed away of old age and she didn't really have a choice but to return. 'It is my duty, my heritage.' She exclaims flatly without any emotion, though her body language tells me something different as I see her hands trembling slightly on the steering wheel.

We've never been told the details, the only thing we know is her parents got killed during one of their work assignments. Whatever that's suppose to mean. I've always thought there was more to their business than just horses, but they never uttered a word and I didn't ask. Everyone has their own secrets they don't wanna talk about, I know that better than anyone. She must be afraid for the same fate as her parents, without even knowing what to prepare for... I think, knowing for a fact that even though she has inherited the gift to interact with horses, she doesn't like being locked up in that house. It must have been tough for her, living there all by herself. I think to myself as she continues to speak while we drive back.

***

Once we're at the ranch I dump my stuff inside and immediately head for the bar Kizzy mentioned. Since it has been a long time since I've been outside I decide to jog to get my stamina back on track. I only have three months to get back in shape. In prison, I made sure to train to some extent but following my regular everyday routine wasn't an option.

As expected the bar is open and I slow my step, walking inside. There aren't that many people in here and my eyes quickly land on a middle-aged man standing behind the bar who's talking to another man in hushed tones. I stroll over and both of them and they instantly look up once they notice me.

'Are you the boss of this joint?'

I ask him while crossing my arms, my irritation clearly visible on my face.

'Sure am. The name is Sean. What can I do for you, Cher?'

The man answers, unfazed by my appearance as he even slips in a touch of New Orleans endearment. Bad move. I clamp my fists together and glance over to the man he was speaking to before as if to say 'leave us be' but the man doesn't show any signs of backing up and keeps sipping from his drink while studying the both of us. Fine, if that's how it's supposed to go...

'My name is Karma, surely you have heard of me.'

I declare to him in a sarcastic tone, staring him down with my eyes. His body stiffens at the sound of my name and I can see he's clearly surprised to see me come in here out of the blue.

I don't continue, giving him the chance to usher the man next to me to leave. I'm not stupid enough to throw a fuss in front of a customer. Especially because this involves illegal underground fighting, I'll have to watch my words. However, the man named Sean doesn't seem to care if the man hears about it as he quietly says.

'Then you know I don't want you to be a part of the WMC. I figured you'd stop by eventually.'

Even though his words sound sturdy, his body language tells me the exact opposite. He's on guard. I narrow my eyes at him while choosing my next words very carefully.

'I just got out of prison to find out someone like you is holding me back from earning that belt. Do you honestly think that's a smart idea? I earned my fucking place in this tournament. You as cafe owner have no right to refuse my entrance, you chose to hold the event here. I don't give a damn about your risks. I already heard you got the Whitfields involved as well. You knew what you got yourself into beforehand. Besides, if I don't compete you'll lose a lot of bidders and you know it.'

I pause for a second while straightening my composure. I've never been one to make a ruckus with one of the owners of the places where I have to compete. But this time it's different, I'll do whatever it takes. The man beside me quietly continues to sip at his drink, not interfering while I'm shooting daggers at the owner with my eyes. He still shows no sign of backing down although I can see fear trembling in his eyes by now.

'Don't get me wrong I have no intention of playing dirty or getting involved with the Whitfields. But. If you leave me no choice and keep refusing to let me enter, I will make sure that word spreads about the tournament. And I'll make damn sure your cafe goes down with it!'

I snap and I can hear Sean gulp audibly, he surely wasn't expecting me to say that. But before he can speak up, the man beside me looks at Sean as he mutters in a decisive tone.

'Let her enter.'

'W-What? B-But..'

He stammers at the man, his eyes wide with astonishment. The man raises a hand at him immediately cutting him off as he looks at me.

'That is if you can prove you're really good enough of a fighter to enter. I gotta say, you sure have some guts talking like that when the head of the Whitfield family is sitting right next to you.'

The man smiles casually. Surprised I study the man from head to toe, he's probably somewhere in his fifties. His hair is a beautifully silver shade of gray, his body slender and he's wearing a black blouse accompanied by a black pair of trousers. It's a simple attire although even I can see by looking at the textures of the fabric it's expensive. His amber brown eyes gently stare back at me studying me as well. His appearance doesn't exactly scream head of the mafia.

He is 'Rusty' Rocco Whitfield?! It's kinda hard to believe that the man who whole New Orleans fears is sitting here before me. He doesn't look anything like I expected him to, but somehow he seems ...familiar. He lets out a short laugh as he asks me.

'Disappointed?'

I narrow my eyes at him, forcing a thin smile on my face as I tell him honestly.

'Not sure yet...'

With a satisfied nod, he sticks his hand out. The second I grab it and we awkwardly shake hands he continues.

'I've heard rumors about you Karma, but I've never seen you fight in the ring. If you accept my challenge to fight an opponent of my choice, we'll arrange a fight right now. If you win? You can enter the WMC. If you lose? You'll draw back from the competition, gracefully.'

The last bit of that sentence was meant to be a threat, his eyes told me so. I lift my eyebrow, not even a little affected by his words as I snort.

'As I said, I didn't come here to make enemies with you. I just wanna fight this championship, so who will you choose?'

I ask him getting straight to the point. He smirks at my answer and points to one of the booths back in the corner of the cafe. 'Sonny.' He says, and immediately a man in his fifties comes out of the shadows with a cigar in his mouth walking toward us.

'Really Rusty, you gonna make me hit a girl?'

The man so-called Sonny says while lifting his eyebrow and puffing out the last bit of smoke. He's more gruff looking than Rocco and I can tell he is strong. But still, he's ...old. I question myself if it's even alright to go through with this, he doesn't exactly look like he's about to break from a few blows. But dammit, he is old!

'Hey, you! I know what your thinking and I'm not that old. I've done some martial arts so don't worry about me. I, on the other hand, will have to fight a girl who could've been at the age of my nonexisting daughter.'

He says slightly pained. It's clear that even though he's one of Rocco's men, he isn't looking forward to this.

'Sonny is my right hand and he can defend himself, so don't worry about him. And Karma is a boxer who wants to fight at the World Mixed Championship, where she will also
have to fight against men. So I hope I'm free to say that on her end she probably wouldn't mind you being a guy.
Even though you are getting old, Sonny..'

He laughs as he gives him a slap on the shoulder. I nod to his earlier statement. It doesn't bother me at all that he's a guy. I've sparred several times with some male boxers I've come to know. Sonny sighs and nods while walking to us.

'If that's the case... Sean, pass me the keys.'

He throws a pair of keys to Sonny not daring to go against them as he puts his cigar down on an ashtray laying on the counter before the three of us walk to the back and go through a door that leads to the basement.

There's a massive room that looks like a second bar behind a little storage room. Right in the middle of the space is a boxing ring and there are bars on both sides against the walls. This is clearly a cafe that holds these matches on a regular basis. I think as we walk through another door at the left of the room leading to another hallway with several changing rooms, showers and even a small gym. This place is massive... I think to myself as Rocco asks me if I wanna change into something else and I reach for the ends of my shirt taking it off. Both of the men look at me with surprise written on their faces as I say in a bored tone while pointing at my sports bra.

'What?! For fuck's sake, I almost always wear these underneath my clothing since I'm training most of the day.
I don't have my hand wraps with me though. Can I borrow a pair from here?'

Sonny nods, muttering something as he walks over to one of the changing rooms. A few seconds later he reappears with two pairs of wraps and we both start wrapping our own hands. It feels odd to have these on again, I think to myself as a smile spreads on my face. The good kind of odd. Rocco notices me smiling and asks.

'How long have you been in prison for?'

'Three years.'

I answer curtly as I clamp my fists together. I look up and focus my attention to Sonny, who's also nearly done with wrapping his hands.

'So you better be ready, I haven't been able to go all out in a very long time...'

I say my voice deadly serious. He nods with a confident grin plastered on his face and turns around walking toward the boxing ring. We both stretch for a couple of minutes before we enter and get into our fighting stance. I'm so looking forward to this. I grin as I narrow my eyes, watching his every movement while I hear Rocco's voice echo through the venue.

'This fight will be a single round only. The first one to stay down for ten seconds will lose the fight. Oh and Karma, if you impress me I might even place a bet on you at the WMC.'

I keep my eyes fixated on Sonny as I snap back at Rocco.

'I'm not interested in your blood money! To be blunt, I rather have nothing to do with the Whitfields at all... But since fate decided otherwise, I'm willing to do this fight. Remember Sonny, this is no martial arts, this is street fighting.'

I can feel the adrenaline starting to rush through my veins and I welcome it with open arms, clamping my fists even tighter while clenching my jaw. *CLING!* The bell goes, and the match begins. I keep my gaze focused on Sonny waiting for his move as I study his stance bouncing on my feet. He's all force and no speed, my agility will be my strong point. I think as he moves forward and tries to punch me in the stomach. To slow. I quickly evade his blow turning away from him while kicking him against the back of his leg. *Pow!* He buckles and I take the opportunity to lend a couple of blows on his shoulder as I swing back in front of him. *Thud! thud, thud!* He's too self-possessed and sloppy with his movements. Thinking he could win this fight easily from me, just because I'm a girl. He groans slightly, his focus faltering quickly. Now! I put all my strength into my left fist and raise it hard from beneath him, a perfect uppercut. *Slam! ...THUD*

I wipe the sweat of my brow, my breathing slightly raged as I crouch down to Sonny who's sprawled down on the floor unconscious. Pussy. I quickly check his pulse and check the rest of his body for other injuries, but aside from a few bruises and scratches, he isn't injured. Well... That went even quicker than expected. I snort as I stand up and leave the ring walking towards Rocco while unwrapping my hands. He looks at me both impressed and surprised.

'He'll wake up shortly, his head will probably hurt...'

'I'm impressed. He used to be my best man, age did catch up to him to some extent, so that's why that title belongs to someone else now. But he's still a very skilled man, yet, you won so easily I can't deny your request. You may enter the WMC, Karma 'Smokin' Stone..'

He says with a smile on his face as he looks at his friend lying down on the floor.

'Please, just Karma.' I plead with him. 'That name may be catchy for the fans, but personally, I'm not a fan..'

'Hahaha, I get that! In the good old days they'd used to call me 'Raging' Rocco, nowadays they call me 'Rusty'. Not sure if I like that change either. Well Karma, you can call me Rocco.'

I can't help but chuckle at the sight of his face as he tells me about his change from 'Raging' to 'Rusty'. He looks so sad and disappointed, like a little kid who gets told Santa and the Tooth Fairy don't exist. We hear a groan coming from beside us and the both of us look over to Sonny who's trying to sit up as he rubs his head painfully.

'Damn!
Did I just ...get knocked out by a girl, without even being able to land one blow?'

He questions in disbelief searching the room for me. The second his eyes land on my figure I can't help but snap at him.

'Well fuck, don't underestimate a fighter, even if she's a girl! You being bigger doesn't have to be an advantage, it can just as well work against you. Besides, you've never been into a ring like this, I can tell. Your pose, your movements, the way you try to land a hit, there is no control whatsoever. This isn't what you guys do. You wave your guns and only fight for real when push comes to shove.'

I continue glaring at him. Pathetic. To get at the level where I'm at is hard work, It's offending the way he speaks as if it's obvious he should've won. He sticks his hands out in a bowing manner as a sign of surrender and acknowledgment of strength to which Rocco lets out a bark of laughter.

'Haha! My son Luca would love you... You're not afraid to speak your mind and you don't sugarcoat anything that comes out of that big mouth of yours. You even got Sonny to bow to you on our first meeting, I like you.'

'Not interested, but thanks. If you'll excuse me, I have a lot of training to do and not a lot of time.'

'Of course. Be sure to ask Sean for the other boxing matches, there should be a few before the WMC. I'll make sure you can enter and if you need a place to train you can make use of the gym here at all free hours.'

'That I would come in handy since I've only moved back here today. But, as I said, I don't intend to get involved with you guys any more than necessary. So, no charity.'

I tell him curtly, leaving no room for a discussion about the matter. He might act friendly, but he is still mafia. I'm not stupid enough to wanna get involved in that lifestyle. He nods without a care in the world as he chuckles.

'Understood.
Although, if you ever need a job you can come to me anytime. Someone like you sure will prove to come in handy.'

'Hah... Thanks for the offer, but no way in hell that'll ever happen. I have no intention whatsoever to put my life on the line for someone else.'

I say my voice low and my eyes cold. How bloody stupid can you be, running into a fire just because someone tells you to do so? Without another word, I leave the basement and go upstairs while putting on my shirt. Quickly stopping by Sean to tell him I'll be back some other time this week before heading back to the ranch. This is what I'd call a productive day.