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"Jesus fucking Christ..." Ivan turned as the words came tumbling from Jenny's mouth, and saw that she had gone deathly pale. "Jesus Christ...Jesus Christ..."
Before he could say anything, she had hurried over to the far side of the room and then stopped dead, mere feet from the window. Slowly, she began to back away, her fists balled at her side, her body trembling. He moved beside her and looked through the shattered window to the other side of the alleyway where a man stood, angrily grinding a cigarette into the sidewalk.
"Do you know him?" he asked.
Jenny didn't reply. She turned and walked quickly down the corridor to the door, throwing it open and letting in a sharp blast of cold, winter air. He heard the sound of her voice, raised and angry, and slowly followed her to where, although shrouded in shadow, he could see her standing just outside.
"Fucking asshole!" he heard her shout.
"Fuck you!" came the response from across the street. "You really think I was going to let you just walk away?"
Moving slightly to his left afforded Ivan a view of the man. He looked about his own age, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, a bottle of vodka in his hand.
"I don't want to talk to you, Dan!" Jenny shouted back. "I don't want to see you and what the fuck was that?" she gestured towards the window.
"You don't just walk away from me, Jenny," the man said, crossing and standing right in front of her. His voice lowered so that Ivan couldn't hear what he was saying but though he could sense Jenny's unease, she squared up to him.
"Go away," she said, loudly and clearly. "I left you. It's over!" She turned away but the man grabbed her arm, swinging her back around to face him. Ivan was poised to reveal himself when Jenny swung her fist and caught the man a sharp, stinging blow to the jaw. He reeled and staggered backwards, his hands at his face, his eyes wide with shock. "Get the fuck away from me," she said, and he could hear her voice shaking. "It's over!"
"Do you know him?" Ivan asked, as she hurried back inside, closed the door and bolted it firmly.
"My husband," she said, refusing to meet his gaze. Moving past him back into the gym she started wandering aimlessly between the bags, one hand continually coursing through her hair, the other pinching her bottom lip.
He could feel the tension coming off her in waves and he stood helplessly at the door, unsure what to say or do. "Can I...uh...do anything?"
"Short of killing him for me, no." She stopped the moment the words had left her mouth and looked at him for the first time. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by that...I..." she broke off. "It's...it's complicated."
Ivan chose to ignore the implication in her comment and pointed towards the changing rooms, sensing that it would be better if he left. "I go?"
"Uh...yes...yes if you want to," Jenny replied, distractedly, turning and heading back for the office.
He watched as she sat down heavily in the chair and put her hand on the receiver of the phone. He waited, but she didn't lift it, instead lowering her head onto the desk in front of her. Mindful of his situation, he made his way back into the changing rooms, showered quickly and pulled back on his street clothes. As he re-emerged into the gym, he saw her replace the phone receiver.
"I go," he said.
Jenny looked up, as though seeing him for the first time, and stood up to come towards him. "I'm sorry about that," she said carefully, "You shouldn't have had to see that."
"He is not nice man."
"No, he isn't."
He waited, wondering if she would say more, but she simply pursed her lips together and looked at the floor. "You will be all right?"
"I'll be fine, thank you," she replied. "You're...you're welcome to come here and train any time. My father usually charges a fee but you can discuss that with him when...if...you come back."
"Thank you," he replied. "Well...goodbye."
"Bye."
He turned and made his way back down the corridor to the door, unbolted it and slipped back out into the chilly air. There was no sign of the man, Jenny's husband, and as he made his back towards the main street, he knew he would definitely return.
XXXX
It was only once he had gone that Jenny felt able to break down. She sank to the floor next to the ring, sobbing, her body shaking with a mixture of fear and anger. Given the time that had passed, she had convinced herself that Dan had accepted the finality of the situation. Accepted that their marriage was over. Accepted that she had really and truly left him. His display of anger, however, made her realise that those thoughts had been foolishly premature. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyeballs until she could see spots dancing in her vision. She had never raised her hand to her husband, other than in self defence when he had had her pinned to the floor. It had felt good, seeing the look on his face and yet she worried that it made her no better than him.
"Jenny?" the door suddenly opened and her father appeared. "Jenny, what the hell happened?" He dropped to the floor beside her and pulled her into his arms, letting her cry against his shoulder. "Is he still here?"
"No. I mean... he didn't come inside."
"Why the hell did you go out?"
"Because he smashed the fucking window!" she exclaimed, pulling back.
"I can replace the window, Jenny, but I can't replace you," Jim said, pushing her hair back from her face. "You're still my little girl, remember. Did you call the cops?"
"No."
"Jenny..."
"Dad, please don't start," she pulled away and got to her feet. "You know what happened when I called them before, nothing. They didn't even talk to him, so what's the point?"
"The point is," Jim said, scrambling up beside her, "you've left him. You're not a wife too terrified to report her husband anymore. You're a woman who's made an important decision to leave him. Dan has to know that he can't get away with this!"
"Then you call them," she said, "report the window."
"They ain't going to do much about a broken window," Jim mused, "especially with no other witnesses."
"Oh..." she suddenly remembered, "but there is another witness. Ivan Drago was here."
Jim stared at her, "Who?"
"Ivan Drago." She laughed at his expression in spite of herself. "I'm serious."
"Ivan Drago," Jim repeated. "The Ivan Drago?"
Jenny nodded. "He said he was looking for somewhere to train. To be honest, he looked more like he was looking for somewhere to hide."
"Well, is he coming back?" Jim asked, his eyes suddenly alive with excitement.
She sighed, "After what happened with Dan, I doubt it."
XXXX
Ivan peeled some banknotes from the bundle in his pocket and handed them over to the woman at the desk. His quest to find a more permanent living arrangement had so far come to nothing given that most places were still closed for the holidays and he found himself forced to stay at the hotel for another few nights.
The woman eyed him suspiciously as he passed her the money and he wondered if she recognised him or simply thought it odd that a tall, well built Russian was staying in the hotel. "You had a phone call," she said, as he turned to leave.
"Telephone call?" he asked, turning back.
"Yeah, some woman..." she squinted at a piece of paper on the desk in front of her. "Lud...Ludm..."
"Ludmilla?" Ivan asked eagerly.
"Sounds like it," the woman said, scrunching up the paper and tossing it in the waste bin under the desk. "Anyway, she said to stop calling."
Ivan felt his heart sink at her words. "Stop...calling?"
"That's what she said. I think. Her accent was kind of hard to understand, but that was about the long and short of it."
He frowned, "The long...?"
"That's what she said," the woman said, in a tone that indicated she was wishing the conversation was over.
"Thank you," he said softly, turning away and heading for the stairs. When he reached his room, he closed and locked the door and then, as anger overtook him, he punched it once, hard. The sound was deafening and he couldn't help but remember that day when he had welcomed the world's media to his training centre and Ludmilla and Nikoli had showcased his incredible strength. Back then...
He didn't want to think about it. That life was gone.