The Beat and The Pulse Box Set 2

by Amity Cross

  “Ali,” I said through a heavy breath. The name rolled from my lips without hesitation, and I knew it was fate. Life had just been blown into my dead body, and it’d been delivered by the kiss of a stranger. A hot, dangerous, bloodstained stranger.

  “Ali,” he murmured. “I think you’d better go home. This isn’t a nice place for a woman on her own.”

  I froze, my mind pulverized into mush. Go home?

  He smirked, his gaze lowering. Just when I thought he was staring at my boobs, he plucked the ticket stub out of my breast pocket and peered at the bet I’d placed. His lips curved into a grin, and he pressed the bit of paper into my hand.

  “You’d better collect your winnings on the way out, darlin’.” He winked before turning away, and my gaze fell to his ass. “You’re welcome.”

  2

  Liam

  The story was always the same.

  Women came to The Underground to chase some kind of fucked up adrenaline rush, and when they got in too deep, they cried foul. A one nighter with a cashed-up fighter probably sounded like a hot porno to them, but the reality was far different.

  The Underground was not a nice place. It was the cesspool of the cesspool. The warehouse where dreams came to die. Literally.

  I glanced over my shoulder, but the woman who’d called herself Ali had disappeared. Good. She tasted sweet, so it was best she hightailed it before Mountain came sniffing around again. She was too delicate for a man like him…if you could call the guy a man. He was more like an animal than anything resembling a human being.

  “You savin’ damsels in distress again?”

  Lifting my head, I spotted Goblin leaning against the wall watching me. He was the toughest son of a bitch I ever saw. With five Championships under his belt, a woman to keep him warm at night, and the adoration of this shithole, he was the richest man in the world in my eyes. Sometimes I didn’t know why I came back to this joint, but him? His Irish ass was crazy.

  “You know me,” I shot back. “Always a sucker.”

  He didn’t say anything else, he just let me pass.

  Unlike most of the fighters at The Underground, I came, I fought, and that was it. Most of the guys went all in. The fights, the booze…dipping their cocks into a different woman every night. Everyone was here for their own reasons—anonymity, money, fame, deadbeats with nowhere else to go, and the list went on—and I wasn’t immune.

  In here, I was Blade. Tough, handsome, a crowd pleaser, a right bastard with a trail of adoring women lined up out the door.

  Out there, I was Liam Maguire. Troublemaker, undisciplined, petty child thief, not to mention uneducated.

  No guesses to which life I preferred.

  “Hey, babe.” A hand grasped my wrist and tugged me into the shadows.

  A female body rubbed against the length of mine, and I smiled. “Hey, Faye.”

  The blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty, who was the best bartender in the world, palmed my cock through my jeans. “You going home?”

  “Yeah.” I tensed as she squeezed.

  “Want some company?” She fluttered her eyelashes and licked her lips, her wet tongue conjuring images of it laving my cock like a melting ice-cream cone on a hot summer’s day.

  Thinking about the fight and the encounter with Mountain, I shook my head. “Nah. Not tonight.”

  Faye pouted and removed her hand. “Aww,” she complained, “I’m all wet.”

  I smoothed her hair away from her face. “You’re fun and all, Faye, but we’re casual. You know that. There are plenty of other guys who would get down on their knees and lick you up and not even ask you to suck their cocks.” Grasping her shoulders, I turned her around. “All you have to do is lick your lips suggestively at one of them.”

  She laughed and leaned back, pressing a kiss against my cheek. “Works every time… Well, almost.”

  Slapping her on the ass, I walked backward, flashing her a wink.

  “Asshole,” she threw at me before walking away.

  Faye was good value. She was intelligent, beautiful, had legs for days, and an adventurous streak that never got boring, but she wasn’t a forever kind of woman. Bohemian was probably the best word to describe her. Every now and then, we hooked up and had some fun, but that was it. She was the ultimate fuck buddy. Things never got complicated, and she never asked for more. Every man’s wet dream.

  Outside, the air was clear, the stench of alcohol, blood, and sweat back where it belonged in the warehouse.

  Sitting in my car, I zoned out, my mind going back to Ali. At first, I thought she was like every other woman who came here looking for a little walk on the wild side, but the more I thought about it, the more it became hazy. Shaking my head, I cursed. It didn’t matter. If she knew what was good for her, she would stay far away from this place. At least I’d doubled her money. There was that.

  Movement along the street drew my attention, and I stilled as I saw none other than Ali walking down the street. The collar of her biker jacket was flipped up, her shoulders hunched, and her plait curved around her neck. The very tip of her hair sat between her breasts, drawing my gaze. She was a scared little thing…then again, I wasn’t sure scared was the right word.

  She’d looked like she was trying to appear confident, but fear radiated off her the moment Mountain grabbed her. She was out of her depth like a rabbit in a room full of ravenous wolves. It was like she didn’t know how to act around people. Like she’d perfected the art of hiding, and now she was attempting to be seen. If that even made sense.

  Watching as she stopped by a blue car a few spots down and across from mine, I waited until she’d unlocked the door and slipped inside. She sat there for a long time before she lowered her head and rested it on the steering wheel.

  I wondered if I should get out and go see if she was okay, but things had already become a little creepy, so I left her alone. After a few minutes, she moved, and the car came to life, the headlights flicking on.

  Leaning back in my seat as they flashed through my windscreen, I watched her drive off. She was safe, and she would never know she’d had someone in her corner, waiting to spring into action in case she was in trouble.

  Whatever had forced her to come to a shithole like this I hoped she worked it out.

  As for me…I went home to bed and woke up the next day ready to do it all again. Cracked knuckles and all. The circle of fucking life.

  3

  Alison

  After my disastrous debut at The Underground, I’d gone to work the following morning and nothing had changed.

  I hadn’t expected any miracles, but it was such a let down from the rush I’d experienced the night before, a deep-set melancholy had settled over my head like a rain cloud.

  The water cooler bitches were still making my life hell, management was still overlooking me, my inbox kept filling up with twice as much work as everyone else’s, and I was still alone. There was nothing more I wanted than to pick up my computer and hurl it across the room, declare to the entire office that I quit, and leave in a whirlwind, delivering a slap right on Susan’s sour face on the way out.

  That same night, I went back to The Underground.

  Maybe I wasn’t very bright. Maybe I wanted to test myself. Or maybe I was infatuated with the mysterious Blade, who’d kissed me like no man had ever kissed me in my life. Who knew?

  I wasn’t a complete idiot. I didn’t know the guy, he didn’t know me, and there was no such thing as love at first sight. Especially not for me. But he’d saved me from my own stupidity, so I guess that was why I felt drawn to him.

  He was fighting again tonight. I sat in the bleachers, a ticket stub from another bet in my pocket, and waited patiently for the fight to start.

  This time, I caught the end of another, two different men punching the shit out of each other until one dropped. It went on for a long time, the blood flowing, and their fists smashing. A few times, they locked together and had to be broken apart. Then they wrestled on the
ground, desperate to get the upper hand.

  I didn’t know much about fighting, but it looked like MMA to me. A mixture of different moves from all kinds of disciplines. An anything goes kind of sport.

  This time, when the fight was done, one man was literally dragged from the cage. I watched with raised eyebrows, wondering if he was okay. I was almost expecting a thick line of blood to stain the floor in his wake, but the ground was clear, and they disappeared off to the side. No one seemed surprised by it at all.

  There was a short break before the next fight began. This time, Blade was fighting a guy named Pickaxe, who turned out to be a much smaller guy. A little weedy looking, but I supposed it would make him fast on his feet.

  When Blade walked into the cage, prowling like a hungry lion, the entire warehouse shook as the crowd roared. I was beginning to see how much of a favorite he was in this place by the way people reacted. When he wasn’t saving stupid women like me from guys like Mountain, it seemed he was blitzing the cage, winning Championship points like no one’s business.

  Blade circled the cage, running his fingers along the chain link, touching anyone who came up and offered their appreciation. When he came around to the side I was sitting on, his gaze raked the bleachers.

  His gaze met mine through the sea of faces, and recognition flooded his features. All I could do was shrug, and he narrowed his eyes before turning to face his opponent.

  Such an anticlimax.

  The fighters toed their lines, and the bell rang.

  Dancing around one another, they jabbed a few times, testing defenses. There were a few cries of “Get on with it,” and Blade seemed to be just as frustrated. The other guy was playing it too safe.

  Blade charged, his fist sailing past Pickaxe’s defense, and his wrapped knuckles slammed into the guy’s face, snapping his head to the side. A zap of electricity coursed through my veins as I watched, and I rose to my feet, edging out into the aisle so I could see better.

  Before Pickaxe could recover, Blade struck again, bringing his knee up high and striking the other fighter in the stomach.

  Pickaxe fell to the ground, and Blade followed, ramming his fist into the guy’s temple. His head cracked against the concrete, and I winced, my stomach rolling. That had to hurt like hell.

  Blade pulled his hand back and paused, allowing a second between blows for the guy to tap, which he did. His palm slapped against the ground, and the fight was called.

  The referee grabbed Blade’s hand and lifted it high, the crowd calling his name and stamping their feet. Like he’d decided the crowd had gotten their fill of theatrics, he wrenched his arm free and strode from the cage, the door opening just in time to let him pass.

  The move was so abrupt I began to wonder if he liked fighting here at all. Getting hit like that had to do some damage, so why was he risking himself?.

  Sitting on the bleachers, I let my mind wander as the crowd moved around me, a hundred different scenarios presenting themselves. It could be anything at all. The man was a stranger even though he’d shoved his tongue down my throat.

  I didn’t expect Blade to seek me out. Not really, but when I saw him climbing the bleachers, his eyes on me, I froze, completely snapped out of my daydream. I wasn’t used to the attention, and I felt myself shying away, my lips tingling. Last night, he’d just walked up to me, wrapped my hair around his hand, and pulled me in. Just like that. All alpha male. I was starting to understand the attraction the water cooler bitches were gossiping about.

  “Either you’ve got a death wish or I misjudged you,” Blade said, sitting beside me. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, his gaze raking over the crowd.

  “You doubled my money again,” I said hastily, flashing my ticket stub.

  “Have you got a gambling problem now?” His voice had a rasp to it that made me tingle.

  “No, but I can afford steak this week rather than chicken drumsticks.”

  He glanced at me, his eyebrow raising. Just one. The other stayed where it was.

  I shrugged, pocketing the ticket. “When you’re as little as me, you take any win you can get.”

  He straightened up. “You’re not so little.”

  I shied away, my gaze falling to my lap. My cheeks felt hot, and I knew I was red as hell.

  “How much did you bet?”

  “Forty,” I replied. “I put in what I won yesterday.”

  “Small beans,” he said with a grunt. “I know guys who bet five figures a pop. You’re a long way from calling up the gambler’s helpline. I do lose sometimes, so keep that in mind.”

  Five figures? Like ten thousand dollars? Somehow, I knew he was referring to the upper part of the scale. The thought of risking that much money on a bet made me break out into a cold sweat. I’d never had that kind of money in my entire life. If I did, I would sure as hell put it in the bank where it was safe, not plonk it down on a set of odds.

  “Thanks for the tip.” Finally, I shifted my gaze upward and found him smirking at me. “What?”

  “What’s your deal?” he asked.

  I pulled a face. “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t strike me as the usual type of woman who comes here.”

  “There’s a usual type?”

  “Definitely misjudged.” He laughed and straightened up. “Look around, Ali. Most of the women here are either gold digging, looking for fun between their legs, or heard about this place from their friends and decided to come check out the muscled men. The last lot never stick around for more than a night. They see the reality of this place and run right back into the arms of their rich, hipster boyfriends and suck their limp dicks.” He glanced at me. “I thought you were one of them until I saw you sitting here earlier.”

  I shrugged, my tongue feeling like sandpaper. He had a crude way about him, and I wasn’t used to it. He spoke about sex like it was a hobby, not something special, and it threw me.

  Thinking about his judgment of me, I supposed I was a lot like those women who wanted a taste of danger. A short, sharp, jolt of adrenaline to blow out the cobwebs of their mundane lives…but I’d had nothing and nobody to go back to, so maybe that was why I was sitting here again. Wow, that sounded all kinds of pathetic.

  “So,” he prodded, “what’s your deal?”

  “What kind of name is Blade?” I blurted, not wanting to explain my shitty excuse for a life.

  His eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned, and he ran his hand over his face. “Fuckin’ stupid, right?”

  “It’s kind of badass, but I feel a little silly calling you that.”

  “Liam,” he said, pressing his shoulder against mine.

  Warmth spread through my body at his touch, and I smiled, feeling euphoric he was paying attention to me at all.

  “She does smile,” he muttered, and I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to hear it or not. Either way, the warmth spread further.

  “So are you coming back?” he asked, this time projecting his voice. “Honestly, I wouldn’t recommend it, but you’ve got my interest.”

  I interested him? Had he been hit in the head too many times? There was nothing remotely noteworthy about me.

  “I don’t know,” I said aloud. “We’ll see.”

  Liam shook his head and rose to his feet. Immediately, the group of women who’d been lingering along the bleachers came to life, fluffing their hair and readying themselves to pounce boobs first into his path.

  All he did was smirk to himself before glancing at me. “Enjoy your steak, Ali.”

  “See ya…” I didn’t want him to leave, but he was going regardless. He probably had a girlfriend he had to meet.

  I watched as he thumped down the stairs, the gaggle of tarted up women trying to get his attention. To my surprise, he didn’t even look twice. He just strode on by and disappeared into the crowd, leaving a dozen broken hearts in his wake…and a little crack in mine.

  This place was like the bloody Twilight Zone.

 
I didn’t understand what was happening, but I could talk to him. I could actually hold a conversation with a handsome man I felt attracted to and not make a complete idiot out of myself. This place…it might be akin to walking into a maximum-security prison, but it’d transformed me from a mouse into a lioness. Well, maybe not something so fierce, but I was a step up from the crumbling mess I was at work.

  Liam had said I could be anyone I wanted to be at The Underground, so that was exactly what I intended to do.

  It was all pretend, but the fantasy was way better than the reality.

  Like I said, when you’re as little as me, you take whatever win you could get.

  4

  Liam

  I rarely fought three nights in a row, but tonight, I’d made an exception.

  I was climbing up the leaderboard fast, accruing a heap of Championship points. If I could keep up the momentum, it wouldn’t be long before I was assured a place in the title fight. And if I could win, it would mean life-changing amounts of money.

  The Underground was always packed on a Friday night‬. I moved through the wall of people, smiling and fist bumping a few people who said hey. Declining a selfie with a good-looking woman, I turned, and that was when I saw her. ‬‬‬‬‬

  Ali.

  I lingered, watching her stare up at the fight board. One of my best assets as a fighter was my ability to read other people. You could learn a lot about an opponent in the way he acted around other people. If he showed arrogance or humility toward his friends and conquests. The way he carried his shoulders, made gestures, and paid attention to what was happening around him. Unconscious tells that helped me see the best way to bring him down in less than five minutes. Most of the time, they didn’t even realize they’d given themselves away until they were tapping.

  I was sure it was a skill I could apply to some real-world job to make a legitimate living, but I’d never flown that way. Rules and I…well, we’d never seen eye to eye.