THE PLAYERS: a MFM Menage Romance (Bad Romance Book 4)

by Shanna Bell

  Goatee frowned when he looked her up and down.

  “What’s with the clothes?” His tone of voice suggested she shouldn’t be wearing any.

  That certainly didn’t bode well for her. “I, um… left my… suit inside,” she said, not knowing what else to say.

  He smirked. “Suit? Right.” His hand reached into an open locker and pulled out a tiny piece of cloth. It was a tiger print triangle bikini with a spandex thong the size of a postage stamp.

  The horror.

  When one of the girls called to the man in front of her, Carmen carefully made her move. She re-opened the door and peeked into the hallway. Sure enough, at the far end of it, she could see three people heading her way.

  She shut the door again and hurried into the changing rooms. All she had to do was find a phone and she’d be out of here in no time. In the meanwhile, she couldn’t risk Erica finding her and using her as a means to get to Sy.

  “Excuse me, where are the changing rooms?”

  The women at the bench laughed at her. “First-timer, huh?”

  One of them though, took pity on her. “There ain’t none, sugar.” Her arms made a circle around the space. “This is what you’ve got. But don’t worry, you’ve got nothing we haven’t seen before.”

  “You’d better hurry up,” a blonde one with heavy makeup said. “If you’re not changed in the next five minutes, Johnny over there will give you a hand.” Judging by her scowl she gave Goatee, she spoke from experience.

  Wasting no more time, Carmen changed into the tiny bikini. As expected, it was a disaster. More than half her breasts poked out of it. And the thong, well, calling it one was an overstatement. Never before had she felt this naked.

  She sat on the bench next to the blonde. Like the rest of the women, she was eying the door in front of them.

  “Can I use your phone? I need to—”

  “Didn’t bring one. No one does, since we won’t be coming back here.” Her mouth tightened. “As soon as I’ve paid my debt, I sure as hell don’t intend to return.”

  Neither did she.

  “Time’s up, ladies,” the guard bellowed. “You know the drill. Get up, into the cages.”

  Cages?

  Before she could ask anything, they were herded through the door. Bright lights met her, as Carmen followed the other women onto a big stage. On it were a row of cages. Underneath the stage was a round puddle of mud. Before it? Hundreds of people shouting, whistling, and clapping.

  Crap.

  She’d entered a women’s wrestling match.

  CHAPTER 24

  CARMEN

  As the reality of what was happening hit her, Carmen wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Just a few hours ago, she’d been grocery shopping, unaware that such a thing as underground women’s wrestling existed. Her biggest concern had been choosing to make a pasta dish or burritos.

  She tried to come to grips with the experience of standing on a platform. There was an actual line of people walking up and down the stage, passing the cages one by one. She noticed that not all her “colleagues” looked like her, which she presumed resembled a deer looking into headlights. Some of them actually rejoiced at the visitors cheering them on.

  This went on for almost fifteen minutes, when Carmen suddenly caught a break. A familiar blond head in a sharp designer suit walked her way. Sy’s friend from the wharf. She was saved!

  Her mind raced, as she tried to remember the name that went with the face. Then it came to her—Angel.

  She yelled his name. This raised a few brows around her, but it did work. Angel walked up to her, hands in his pockets. Practically every woman in his wake eyed him like he was a piece of candy.

  His eyebrows shot up when he stopped before her. “Yes?”

  “I’m Carmen, Sy’s—”

  “I know who you are. Didn’t know you were into wrestling, but hey, whatever floats your boat.” His eyes scrutinized her from head to toe. “I’m guessing it’s not just for your cinnamon buns why he keeps you around.”

  “Please help me out,” she pleaded, clutching onto the bars of her cage. “I’m here by accident. If you could just explain that I don’t belong here—”

  “Are you saying you were forced into wrestling?”

  “Well, no, but…”

  “So, you’re here because you wanted to?”

  “Of course not!” The mere thought was ludicrous. “It was the only way to get away from that broom closet.”

  “What was the only way?”

  “Look, there’s no time to explain how I ended up here, but surely you understand—”

  “Not really.” He inspected his nails, as if she was already an afterthought to him. “I doubt Brian will see it like that either.”

  “Brian?”

  “The guy who owns this place. Scary dude.” He fake shivered. “Not as scary as Kristoff, of course, but you get the gist. The only women who end up here are the ones who owe him and choose to fight to pay off their debt. He doesn’t force them into wrestling. Are you saying that one of his men forced you up the stage?”

  “Um… no.” No matter how much she wanted to get out of this mess, she couldn’t be responsible for someone else taking the fall for her.

  “Ah, well, in that case, I’m guessing you’ve entered willingly but had a change of heart. Problem is, that goes against Brian’s policy. Makes him go all biblical on you and shit.”

  Whoever this Brian was, it didn’t bode well for her. What to do?

  In the back, she could see people getting more anxious for the games to start. Judging by the scorecards, more bets were being placed. It wouldn’t be long before she’d be forced to take a dive into the mud.

  “I… Please help me out.”

  “Sure, just as soon as you do me a little favor.” He pulled up his phone, pushed in some digits, and gave it to her.

  “Stop calling me every ten minutes.”

  Carmen immediately recognized the grouchy voice. “Tess?”

  Silence, then a squeal. “Carmen? Why are you calling me with that devil’s phone?”

  Why indeed? She looked at Angel in anticipation, dread filling her stomach.

  He inched closer. “Hello, Tessa, your friend is in a pickle. And as it happens to be, I’m the only one who can help her out. That is, if you give me your sister’s location.”

  “Never gonna happen!”

  “So, you do know where she is. See, my guy tracked her to some shoe store in Tokyo. Then to some nail studio in Singapore.”

  “You have no idea the toll it takes on your fingers to be using a computer all day. I, more than once, have broken a nail or two myself.”

  Carmen couldn’t believe they were discussing footwear and nail polish. Any minute now, her cage was going to open.

  Angel tsked. “Is that so? Last chance. Tell me where she is and I’ll get your friend out of this mess.”

  “What mess? Carmen, are you okay? Has he done—?”

  Carmen plucked the phone from Angel’s grasp. “I’m fine, really, nothing to worry about. I’ll call you later.” Then she hung up.

  Angel took his phone back and sighed. “Pity. Do you want me to call your men, or are you gonna handle this yourself?”

  “Call my men? Do I look like a fifties wife?”

  His lip curled up. “I was hoping you’d say that. Don’t let anyone tell you that pride comes before the fall. I’m sure that’s just bullshit and, in your case, that cardinal sin will elevate you to… the next round.”

  That’s when she realized he’d played her like a violin.

  “There’s more than one round?” she quipped.

  “Of course there is, but no worries. Life is a marathon, not a sprint.” After that ridiculous piece of “life’s advice,” he gave her his back.

  She stared at him in disbelief. “Wait! Are you seriously going to just leave me here?”

  He turned and something dark flashed in Angel’s eyes, making Carmen shiver.

  �
��Don’t let the name fool you. I’m no angel. I don’t do gratis.” He straightened his collar. “Don’t fret it, you’ll be fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to place some bets. Please don’t take it personal that I won’t be putting my hard-stolen money on you. I’d rather take my chances with Ivana and Ivanka over there. They look as if they eat kitties like you for breakfast.”

  One look in her adversaries’ direction and Carmen knew he wasn’t just talking shit. Those two really did look mean. And muscular.

  Angel waved at them. “Hi, girls.”

  The women jumped up at seeing him. Their obvious fake breasts almost popped out of their tiny glitter tops.

  “Hi, Angel!” they cooed in unison.

  “Now they are professionals,” he told her. “Working girls are always the toughest.”

  The second Angel walked away, the women gave her a deadly glare. Great. She hadn’t even entered the muddy ring and already made enemies.

  No sooner had he left, when Carmen recognized another face in the crowd, walking up to the stage. Her heart nearly stopped as she took in the girl’s one blue and one green eye.

  It can’t be…

  The beautiful young woman had replaced the white dress for leather pants and a red tank top.

  “Marni?”

  Right when the girl was about to turn, people walked in front of her and she disappeared from sight. Carmen jumped up and down in the cage, trying to get another look but she had disappeared.

  It’s the adrenaline.

  You’re just seeing things.

  She didn’t have any more time to think that through as a whistle was blown.

  Goatee pushed a button and her cage door opened. The crowd roared. Her opponent, Ivana or Ivanka, gave her a wink, then jumped off the stage, right into the mud. Dragging her feet, Carmen followed after her.

  Suddenly, an opening appeared in the crowd, and Sy’s big body showed. Her heart sped up. Every fiber of her being wanted to jump up into his arms.

  Then Ivana/Ivanka called out his name, and shook her boobs at him.

  Oh no, she didn’t.

  CHAPTER 25

  SY

  Hell was waking up to Damon’s classic rock playlist blasting through the speakers.

  It wasn’t that Sy didn’t like Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Free Bird.” He just felt less love for it at freaking five in the morning. But, since he was staying in the twins’ wing of Kristoff’s mansion, he could hardly complain.

  That had been hours ago, but Sy still felt sleepy as he walked to Kristoff’s study in the late afternoon. Their commander-in-chief and Viking had been at it all night, plotting and planning. Keegan and Morelli’s days were numbered.

  He felt restless and oddly unsettled. For the past month, he’d woken up to Carmen’s breakfast. Every morning, she greeted him with a smile, brightening up his day. He no longer even questioned it. His favorite pastime had been watching animal documentaries, and now it was watching them as she lay sprawled on top of him. He could no longer tell himself she was like every other fling. Too bad it ended the way it had.

  He joined his brother and Kristoff on the back patio. Damon was already there, looking over a blueprint. Viking was discussing why he should take the lead on bringing down the house on Morelli when they were interrupted by a female voice.

  “Kristoff! Kristoff Romanov, where are you!”

  All eyes went toward the woman barging up toward them. In her white sundress, Katya looked like a vengeful angel heading their way.

  Sy grinned. “She called you Romanov. Guess you really pissed her off this time.”

  Kristoff’s mouth tightened. Everyone with half a brain knew he hated his last name. No one ever called him that, unless they were tired of life. Then again, Katya was the only one who got away with it.

  Katya whirled into their view like a dervish, hands on her hips, a scowl on her face. Though she was barely five foot six, with her flashing eyes and cropped, pink hair, she was a force to be reckoned with. Just as the rest of the crew, Sy knew her ever since the day her mother dropped her off on Kristoff’s doorstep. She’d been a teen then. In their harsh, often unforgiving world, she had been like their mascot, a beautiful angel.

  Kristoff cocked a brow. “Why are you yelling, Ekaterina? We live in the same house. I can hear you just fine.”

  “I will be asking the questions here,” she snapped, not showing any angelic features. “I can’t believe you sabotaged my date. Again. I really liked Jack.”

  Ah hell. Sy knew exactly where this was going. To shit creek. And by the quick glance Kristoff exchanged with him, he knew he needed a paddle.

  “Jake,” Damon chimed in. “His name is Jake.”

  Katya sent him a withering glare, then turned her baby blues back on Kristoff. “Tell me why I can’t date him. And I want a good reason. A really, really good reason. And it better not be ‘I don’t like him.’ You don’t like anyone.”

  “I don’t like him,” Kristoff admitted. “But that’s not the only reason why I don’t want him around you.”

  Sy cleared his throat. “He’s a Sagittarius. They are known to be volatile and stubborn.”

  “That just won’t do,” Kristoff said.

  Katya blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re a Pisces,” Sy explained. “You two don’t mix.”

  Her jaw dropped. She then sent him a hurt look. “You are just as bad as them.” With those parting words, she gave them her back and rushed away.

  Sy hated to see her upset. He’d never forget the day he’d found her lying passed out on the kitchen floor. It had been less than a year ago that she’d had her last chemo. Thankfully, since then, she was doing well. God have mercy on anyone’s soul should they touch a hair on her head.

  According to Jake’s phone records, he considered Katya a challenge. The soon-to-be crippled asshole had even made a bet with his fraternity brothers on how fast he could get into her pants. Those frat boys would pay for that bet, of course. Nobody could play with Katya and get away with it.

  “The frat boy. Knife, hammer, or chainsaw?” Sy asked.

  “Hammer.” A dark look had entered Kristoff’s eyes, promising hell and retribution. “But first, we need to find Keegan. One cockroach at a time.”

  Sy’s phone rang. Seeing it was Angel, he picked up. There was a lot of background noise, people whistling and cheering.

  “What’s up?”

  “Guess who I have eyes on right now? Wait, you don’t have to guess. I’m telling it for free, ’cause I’m generous like that. Carmen Caruso.”

  “Rossi,” Sy automatically corrected. “What the hell are you doing around my woman?”

  “I could tell you, but it’s gonna cost you, brother.”

  Dammit, he didn’t have time for this. “What do you want?”

  “Cinnamon buns. I want a basket every week for a month.”

  “Done. So, tell me, where the hell are you?”

  “What do I love most?”

  “Annoying the fuck out of me?”

  Angel tsked. “Close, but no. Women stripping and wrestling.”

  An image of Carmen gliding down a stripper’s pole popped into his head. It was quite the fantasy. Then, he realized who was the cause of that image.

  “Don’t you fucking tell me you’re in a strip club, looking at my woman.”

  “That depends,” Angel said, dragging the sentence out, which made Sy want to pull him through the phone. “Would you consider rolling in the mud in a tiny bikini, stripping? See, I don’t think it is.”

  “Come again?”

  “I think stripping is an underrated art form, even a sports—”

  “Angel,” Sy growled.

  “She’s at Brian’s, about to wrestle in the mud.”

  “She’s what?” Jesus, how the hell had Carmen ended up there? “Get her the hell out.” She was too fragile for that sort of thing. Those women would eat her alive.

  “I would if I could,” Angel said, sounding
a little too nonchalant to his taste. “Sadly, I was too late, so I’m just gonna sit here and watch.”

  Bastard. “That must be such a hardship. Watching women wrestle in the mud.”

  “Watching hot women in tiny bikinis role in the mud,” Angel corrected him. “Don’t say I never do anything for you. Want me to place a bet for you on your woman?”

  “Fuck you, Angel. Just, fuck you.”

  “I’ve been getting that a lot lately.”

  “I wonder why,” Sy scoffed.

  “Because haters are gonna hate, hate, hate?”

  “It was a rhetorical question, asshole. Don’t let her out of your sight. I’m on my way.”

  He sent Vince a message before he went over to Kristoff and Viking, who were still looking at the blueprint.

  “Something came up. Call me when you’ve found Keegan.”

  He then went over to Brian’s in his Jeep. It could come in handy if he had to hide bodies, or give Carmen the spanking of a lifetime.

  He got to Brian’s place, his brain going a hundred miles an hour. Forgotten were the reasons why he should stay the fuck away from her. All he knew was that he had to get to his woman. She must be so frightened. He elbowed his way through the rowdy crowd until he had a front-row seat at the mud pit. On the stage was Carmen, about to jump into the small arena to face her opponent.

  He recognized the blonde in the pit from a strip joint.

  She sent him a kissy face. “Hi, Sy, came to see me again?”

  Carmen's eyes flashed and promised retribution. With a fierce battle cry worthy of a lioness, she jumped off the stage, right on top of Ivana. Or maybe it was Ivanka. He wasn’t sure as he couldn’t keep the sisters apart.

  What followed was one hell of a game. Carmen used every technique he and Vince had ever taught her. He winced together with the crowd as Carmen took her opponent in a headlock. That was gonna hurt in the morning.

  Poor Ivana/Ivanka didn’t stand a chance. Over and over, she ended up face down in the mud. In the end, Carmen got up, victorious. He wondered if she knew that half her top had come off? Judging by her big smile, he doubted it. The crowd roared, and more bets were placed.