The Beat and The Pulse Box Set 2

by Amity Cross

  Watching Ali from afar, it was the first time I’d been able to really look at her. Twice I’d talked to the woman, and twice she’d shied away, doing a damn fine job of hiding her true face. I didn’t think there was anything sinister about it, but this was three nights in a row she’d come back, which meant it was twice she’d ignored my warnings. She had balls. Big brass ones.

  She was standing on her own, a cute little mouse in a room full of much larger predatory animals. If I wasn’t paying attention, I would probably overlook her in the chaos, but she was a calm point in the storm.

  She was wearing the same biker jacket, but tonight, her top was gray. This time, I noticed she was wearing sloppy black boots and tight jeans that wrapped around her legs like a second skin. Her hands were shoved into her pockets, the collar on her jacket flipped up to cover the back of her neck. When someone bumped against her, she flinched and gave them the dirtiest stink eye I’d ever seen, but it went.

  Definitely trying to hide. I wondered if it was a self-preservation thing or if she actually had some deep, dark secret she didn’t want anyone to know. What a mysterious little thing.

  Making a move, I weaved through the sea of punters and lingered behind her. A waft of perfume hit me in the face, some fruity girl thing, and I actually liked it. Women who smelled nice usually tasted just as sweet.

  “Third time’s a charm,” I murmured into Ali’s ear.

  She jumped, spinning so fast she almost fell on her ass. Grasping her arm to steady her, I grinned.

  “Liam!” she exclaimed, her cheeks turning red.

  Liam sounded much better than Blade, especially coming from her. I never cared much about protecting my identity here. I knew some fighters liked the freedom anonymity gave them in this place, considering the wads of cash a win took home, but others didn’t care. They were so ingrained in the criminal lifestyle they reveled in giving the cops the middle finger.

  Me? I didn’t care about any of those things. Honestly, I didn’t really care about much at all.

  I fought, I won, I made brilliant money, and I kept my mouth shut. That way, everyone was happy. Over time, I’d become an integral part of The Underground, and now I was a valuable chess piece on the board. I helped them make cash off the punters, and I was looked after in return. Criminal underworld one-oh-one.

  I smiled, taking in Ali’s startled expression and her flushed cheeks. She was a riot.

  “What you doin’?” I asked, my eyes glued to hers.

  She paused, her mouth opening and closing before she finally managed to say, “Just looking at the board.”

  Glancing over her, I took in the up close and personal version. She was plain, slightly uptight, and painfully shy, but something drew me to her. She had this quiet way about her that was almost gentle. She was a thinker.

  “You’re very good,” I said, tilting my head to the side.

  She frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. “I… I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I’m completely sure you do.” If I could just coax her out a little, then maybe…

  When I saw tears begin to shine in her eyes, I reached out and gently grasped her arm. Shit, something was going on with her. It could be anything, but I didn’t like seeing a woman upset. Where there were tears, there was trouble.

  “I don’t really know how I got like this,” she said, averting her gaze. It was an abrupt declaration, but it was direct to the point. No bullshitting.

  “We all get a little lost sometimes,” I said reassuringly.

  She snorted and rolled her eyes. “I’m more than a little lost.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, the words coming out of my stupid mouth before I could stop them.

  Dammit, I was becoming invested in a woman I didn’t even know. A woman who would probably become attached to me for all the wrong reasons if I kept asking about her feelings. That was a surefire way of getting my cock into her pussy if I ever saw one. Women loved to talk about emotions and shit.

  I was just a delinquent fighter with a short lifespan. I was not a fucking therapist. There was no way in hell I was making things worse for her. I couldn’t help.

  Glancing toward the back of The Underground, I saw Faye wiping down the bar, her tits swaying back and forth. What Ali needed was another woman to talk to. Someone smart, clued up, tough, and knew all the right things to say. Someone she couldn’t fall in love with unless she swung that way.

  Ali opened her mouth to reply to my stupid question, but I spoke before she could get a word out.

  “I’ve got an idea,” I declared, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.

  Guiding my startled little mouse toward the bar, I whistled at Faye to get her attention.

  She smiled when she saw me, her lips quirking in amusement when she took in Ali. Her eyebrows rose as she noticed the position of my arm, but thankfully, she didn’t have anything smart to say. I knew I could count on her.

  “Hey, Blade,” she said in a sultry voice. “Who’s your lady friend?”

  “Faye,” I said. “This is Ali. She’s new around here.”

  “A newbie, huh?” She looked her over and nodded. “You look tough. I like it.”

  “I was thinkin’…” I began, but Faye was all over it.

  “You’ll do fine if you stick with me,” she said to Ali. “I’ll show you the ins and outs of this place. Who’s an asshole, who’s a total sweetie, and who to kick in the balls.” Reaching over the bar, she picked up Ali’s braid and caressed it between her fingers. “Your hair is such a pretty color. Do you always wear it like that?”

  “Uh…” Ali mumbled, looking overwhelmed. “Yeah?”

  Faye glared at me and waved her hand.

  “What are you still doing here, Liam?” she asked, scowling. “Don’t you have a male pissing contest to prepare for or something?”

  Grinning, I flashed her a wink. “I’ve a fight in a half hour.” Glancing at Ali, she looked petrified, but she would be more than okay with Faye. Hopefully, she would come out of her shell a bit with a little overenthusiastic encouragement. “I’m up against Goblin tonight, so if you want an insider tip, bet on the Irish. He’s a tough guy to beat.”

  She blinked, her eyelashes fluttering.

  “I’ll see you later, Ali.”

  As I walked away, I caught the beginning of Faye’s next round of questioning and snorted.

  “What are you doing tomorrow? Do you like churros?”

  5

  Alison

  I sat on the stairs out the front of the State Library of Victoria, watching the city come and go around me.

  The sun was shining, so people were lounging on one of the only green spots in the CBD, soaking up the warmth. I pulled my jacket closer, more out of nervous habit than anything. It was autumn, so the sunshine was rare, and the air was still cold.

  Somehow, Liam’s friend Faye had talked me into meeting her here this morning. It was the first time anyone had invited me anywhere in what felt like years, and I wasn’t sure how to take it.

  Speaking of the mysterious, and oddly friendly, Blade, I hadn’t seen him again last night, but I did see him fight. For the first time, he’d lost, and I wondered if that was why he left early. It seemed like he’d expected it from the tip he’d given me on parting. Bet on the Irish.

  I began to think about him and realized I was crushing on the guy. Bad move. Bad, bad move.

  Spotting Faye’s blonde hair through the mass of people, I straightened up. When Liam introduced me to her last night, she’d intimidated the hell out of me. Seriously, she was perfect in every way I wasn’t. Beautiful, confident, admired, and lusted after. She’d just taken me under her wing, no questions asked, and started chattering away like I was her new best friend. There were no snide comments or passive-aggressive compliments. She was just…genuine.

  Every man in a twenty-meter radius turned and watched her walk toward me, their eyes settling on her tits and then her ass as they got the back v
iew. I felt a small pang of jealousy, but standing side by side, there was no competition. Faye looked like a Victoria’s Secret model, and I… There were no words for me.

  “Ali,” she said, throwing her arms around my neck and hugging me tightly. “Good, you’re here. I thought you might do a runner on me.”

  I’d contemplated it, but I was far too curious not to come.

  “You don’t have anywhere else to be today?” she went on, not even waiting for a reply. It was like she knew I was a woman of few words and was helping me out by filling the silences. When I shook my head, she said, “Great! I’ve got a whole day planned for us. Shopping, hairdresser, makeup, the works.”

  “Shopping?” I asked. “Hairdresser?”

  “The churros come later,” she said with a thousand-megawatt smile. Great, she had perfect teeth, too.

  “But…” I began, embarrassment flaring. There was no way I had the money to pay for her grand makeover. All I had to my name was the sixty dollars in profits from my two lucky bets at The Underground.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Faye said, keeping her voice low. “I know a guy who knows a guy.” She winked, over exaggerating the gesture. “Free will never look so good.”

  “Free?”

  She laughed, threading her arm through mine. “You’re hilarious, Ali. C’mon. Let’s start with your hair.”

  As she practically dragged me down the street, the crowd parted as we went. Usually, I would put my head down and weave around slow walkers but not Faye. Her presence demanded attention, and like it was an unconscious response, people just moved aside. All I could do was follow, completely shell-shocked.

  After crossing at the pedestrian lights, she towed me into a doorway jammed between a cafe and a convenience store. Reading the sign as we passed, I realized we were at a hairdressing school. Rush Academy. A chalkboard just inside was scrawled with the current price of a student’s haircut with basic colors starting at forty dollars.

  Clattering down the concrete stairs, we found ourselves in a basement area that’d been renovated into a hairdressing salon. There was a desk with a telephone and an appointment book, a shelf jammed with various bottles of shampoos and other mysterious products, and a dozen or so chairs before floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Behind a partition was a row of basins, and beyond that looked like a staff and student only area.

  The entire place was empty—school wasn’t in on a Saturday—but the moment we stepped into the salon, a man appeared from a doorway to the side. When he saw us, he smiled, throwing his arms wide.

  “Faye, darling!” he exclaimed rushing over to air kiss both her cheeks. “Right on time, sweetie.” Turning to me, he looked me over and nodded. “This must be Ali.”

  “This is Andy,” Faye said. “He’s a teacher here and owes me about a million favors.”

  So that was why this was on the house. I began to feel a little better about being poor as hell, and I turned to Andy. He was tall, slim, and had an artfully messy swept back hairstyle. His clothes echoed the look one hundred percent.

  “Darling, come with me.” He guided me to a chair and flung a cape around my shoulders, fastening the button at the back of my neck. Undoing my plait, he combed out my hair with his fingers and made a face.

  “Let’s relax and straighten the frizz…” Messing up my hair, he stared at me in the mirror. “Your color is nice, but I think we can put a nice semipermanent through there to add some warm reflect.”

  I didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded fancy.

  “Then some layers and a fringe,” Faye added. “Heavy, blunt. Totally sexy.”

  “Yes!” Andy exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Totally runway.”

  “Is that good?” I asked, wringing my hands together under the cape.

  “Is it…” Andy waved his hand and spun my chair right around. “Darling, when I’m done with you, you won’t know yourself. You’ll be a whole new woman.”

  “Sex on a stick,” Faye declared.

  It was their way of saying they thought I would look beautiful, so I smiled. Just once, I wanted to hear someone say it to me and mean it. Just once.

  “I trust you,” I said to Andy.

  “Oh, my sweet…” He fanned himself. “Those are the words every stylist dreams of hearing. You must let me do your hair from now on. Ali, you’re a gem. I’m going to make you sparkle!”

  Faye pulled up a chair beside me and chatted away happily with Andy as he brushed layer after layer of chemicals on my hair, and when I was wrapped up, she handed me some magazines with instructions to pick out clothes I was into so she could figure out my style.

  “Why are you helping me?” I asked. “I mean… I only met you last night.”

  “Any friend of Liam’s is a friend of mine,” she replied. “Besides, I’m a sucker for a makeover. You’re pretty, Ali, don’t get me wrong, but there’s a man-eater in there. We’ve just got to bring her out to play.”

  I laughed nervously. “Sure.”

  “You need more confidence in yourself,” she said. “It’s in there. Otherwise, you would never have walked into The Underground in the first place.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “I know so. I’m a great judge of character. Just ask Andy.”

  He poked his head around the partition. “She’s right, you know. Listen to her, Ali darling. Time to burst out of your cocoon!”

  I laughed, starting to feel at ease.

  “So how did you meet Liam?” Faye went on. “He’s never mentioned you before.”

  “Oh, I um… I only met him the other night. He helped me escape a guy named Mountain…”

  “Mountain?” She made a face. “Good thing Liam was there, then. That guy is one of the kick in the balls, ask questions later, fighters. A few coins short of a dollar, if you know what I mean.”

  Good thing he was, I suppose. Wondering about Faye and Liam, I got the feeling they were pretty friendly. She talked about him like they’d known each other a long time, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they were together. I died a little inside at the thought.

  “You and Liam?” I asked, my heart withering just the tiniest little bit.

  “Oh, God no,” Faye replied with a laugh. “I’m not his type, honestly.”

  “He’s not…”

  “In a relationship? No. A man like Liam is hard to tie down. I’ve never known him to be in, or want, a relationship in all the years I’ve known him.”

  I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and cursed my red cheeks. He’d only been nice to me because I was on my own and completely clueless. Nothing more.

  “Relationship is such a scary word,” Faye went on, oblivious. “It’s a foolproof way to scare off every man in a five-kilometer radius. Our handsome Bade included.”

  After several applications of some product, a color, a couple of trips to the basin, and a few snips later, I was sitting in front of the mirror, staring at the stranger before me.

  “Holy hell!” Faye said, clapping her hands. “Was I right, or was I right?”

  I ran my fingers through the silky strands of my newly straightened hair and couldn’t believe it. The fringe was heavy and brushed the top of my eyebrows, but it didn’t overwhelm my face, it framed it. Turning from side to side, I could see the red tones the color had brought out of the plain chestnut I’d been before. Then there were my eyes. The whole thing made them look like honey.

  I was seriously checking myself out.

  “My work here is done!” Andy declared, puffing out his chest.

  “Thank you…” I said, sounding completely breathless.

  It was just a hairstyle, but seeing myself looking so different…it changed something inside me. Something really good. I felt like a million bucks as Andy removed the cape, my confidence really starting to fill up.

  We left with promises to return, the hour creeping on. According to Faye’s plan of attack, we still had several stops before the battle was won.

  Next on
the list was a boarded-up storefront on Russell Street.

  A knock on the door and a burly security guard later, we walked into a large warehouse space with white walls and skylights in the ceiling. Before us were racks of clothes, several tables full of shoes, and stands of accessories.

  “What is this place?” I asked, raking my gaze over the clothing. It didn’t look like a proper shop but a warehouse. There were no mannequins or fancy displays in the windows, just piles of stuff organized by type and some makeshift cash registers by the door.

  “It’s a pop-up sample sale,” Faye explained. “Designers do these sometimes to shift surplus stock and end-of-season lines. If you can get in early, there’s some amazing stuff for dirt cheap. Usually, the racks get picked clean after ten minutes of the doors opening, but today…” She spread her arms wide and grinned like a Cheshire cat. “VIP, baby!”

  “Is that Faye I hear?”

  We glanced up as a tall redheaded woman sashayed into view.

  “Francesca!” Faye exclaimed, air kissing the woman’s cheeks. Mwah, mwah, both sides like a pro. “Thanks so much for letting us in early. You’re doing me a massive favor, doll.”

  “Of course. This is me returning the favor you did me when you stepped in on my show last minute. You saved my skin.”

  Faye gave me a wink. “I was at Francesca’s last runway show at Melbourne Fashion Week, and one of her models fainted backstage fifteen minutes before. I was the right height and size, so she dragged me out of the crowd and stuffed me into the clothes. It was a madhouse!”

  “And the people loved you.” She smiled at me and gestured to the racks. “Pick out anything you like, and I’ll take care of you. We have some really good pieces.”

  As she left us, Faye almost jumped out of her skin in excitement at the cornucopia of fashion before us.

  “This is going to be so good!” she said chortling as she pulled me toward the racks. “I know just the thing to go with your new hair!”