The Undisputed Series (Complete Series)

by A. S. Teague

  I war with myself, but I finally work up the courage to speak. “Gram?”

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course, honey.”

  “Does Ryker ever talk about what happened with his suspension?” I ask hesitantly.

  She stiffens, her mouth opening and closing. “That’s something you’ll have to ask him about,” she finally says.

  I shake my head. “I have, but he won’t talk to me about it. You don’t have to tell me what happened. I would never ask you to betray him like that. But, uhm, would you at least tell me if he’s talked about going back?”

  Her face falls, and she slowly shakes her head. “I don’t think so, honey.”

  My heart sinks. “You think he might change his mind?”

  She purses her lips and then lowers her voice. “I know my boy, Rebecca. I know he didn’t do what they said he did. I also know he loves fighting. He’d go back if he thought he could.”

  The wheels in my head start turning, and I jump to my feet. “Gram, I’ve gotta go. Tell Ryker I’ll call him later, but if you don’t mind, don’t tell him about our conversation.”

  Her eyes light up. “You got an idea, don’t ya, sweetie?”

  I shrug and bite my bottom lip. “I think I might. Just don’t tell him, please?”

  She shoos me away, calling after me, “Have a good day, dear.”

  An hour later, I hear my doorknob turn followed by the doorbell ringing over and over again. I can hear my brother’s voice on the other side as he calls my name while someone pounds on the door. I race to answer it, nearly tripping over Prince in the process. Throwing it open, I smile when I see Breccan and Tripp standing there, worry etched on their faces. They shove their way inside, and I scramble to get out of their path.

  “Are you okay?” Breccan asks at the same time Tripp blurts, “Are you hurt?”

  Their eyes are wild as they scan the room, looking between me and the windows. Breccan brushes past me and strides over to the window, shoving the curtains aside.

  Tripp comes over to me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “Reb, are you okay? Say something.”

  I give him a quick hug and then disentangle myself from his hold. “I’m fine.” Turning to where Breccan is inspecting the window, I tell him, “Breccan, I’m fine.”

  He turns back to where I’m standing with Tripp, “Window looks fine. Don’t see any evidence of tampering. You said it was this one?” He points to the one he’s standing in front of.

  I look away from him and mutter, “Uh, well. About that.” Glancing back at Tripp, I see his eyes narrow.

  “What’s that smell?” he asks, lifting his nose in the air.

  I clasp my hands behind my back and rock on my heels. “So, uhm. About that intruder.”

  “What about it?” Breccan growls as he stalks toward me.

  “There, uh––there was no intruder.”

  “What the fuck, Reb?” Breccan shouts.

  “Are you fucking serious? You scared the shit out of us!” Tripp hollers.

  “Sorry?” I squeak before retreating to my kitchen.

  Breccan and Tripp both follow me, still cursing.

  My back hits the kitchen counter, and I hold up my hands in surrender. “I made my famous monkey bread and breakfast casserole!”

  They stop their prowl and glance at each other before returning their gazes to mine.

  Tripp exclaims, “Oh, fuck! What did you do?”

  My mouth falls open in mock outrage. “I can’t believe you two! Can’t a girl make a nice breakfast for her brother and her best friend?”

  In unison, they shout, “No!”

  Planting my hands on my hips, I scold them. “You two should be ashamed of yourselves! What have I ever done to deserve this kind of treatment?”

  “Cut the crap,” Breccan snaps.

  I fold my arms across my chest and mutter, “Fine.”

  “What are we doing here if not saving you from the intruder you apparently made up?” Tripp asks.

  “I’ll tell you. But, first, sit down. Let me make you a plate.” I gesture to the table, and they look at each other again.

  Tripp shrugs and slides into a chair at the table. Breccan eyes me and then follows suit, sitting beside my brother.

  “I could eat, I guess,” Breccan mumbles.

  Clapping my hands together, I sing, “Good choice, boys!”

  I make them each a heaping plate of their favorite foods. Then I pour freshly squeezed orange juice into a couple of glasses and set them down in front of them. Once they dig into the food, I settle in the chair opposite of them.

  With his mouth full of casserole, Tripp asks, “You didn’t make this food, did you?”

  I shake my head.

  Breccan takes a large gulp of juice and elbows Tripp. “She didn’t squeeze any fucking oranges, either.”

  “Nope,” I confirm.

  After they’ve nearly cleaned their plates, Tripp finally asks, “Why are we here?”

  Resting my arms on the table, I turn my attention to Breccan. “So. I want you to train Ryker to fight again.”

  Breccan spits juice, and I’m forced to dive out of the way to avoid being hit by flying pulp.

  He grabs a napkin and wipes his mouth. “You must be fucking kidding.”

  Ignoring his response, I turn to my brother. “Tripp.”

  “Fuck no. Whatever you’re about to ask me, the answer is fuck. No.”

  Shooting to my feet, I lean across the table. “Don’t be an asshole. I need you to represent him.”

  He jumps from his seat. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “No! I don’t see what the problem is.” I glance back and forth between them, but neither man says anything.

  Finally, Tripp sits back in his seat. “Look. I know he’s your boyfriend and you like him––”

  “Love,” I interject.

  Tripp raises his eyebrows. “Love? You love him?”

  I smile proudly. “Yep.”

  “Does he know this?” Breccan asks.

  “Yep. He’s in loooooove too.” I exaggerate the word. “I mean, you can’t blame him, really.”

  Tripp hangs his head and mutters, “Jesus help that poor guy.”

  I grab my napkin and throw it at him. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. Nothing.” He shakes his head. “Okay. Well, congrats on being in love and all of that sappy shit. Like I was saying, I know that you love him. But, Mouse, we can’t work with him.”

  “What do you mean you can’t work with him? We already work with him,” I ask defensively.

  “No, Reb, he works at our gym. But we can’t represent him.” Breccan replies for Tripp.

  I raise my eyebrows, encouraging him to continue. I keep my mouth closed for fear of saying something that would screw up Ryker’s chances.

  I knew I would be met with some resistance, which is exactly why I picked up breakfast from their favorite restaurant on my way home from Ryker’s and then schemed a way to get them both to my house right away. I had a slight pang of guilt as I typed out the message that said someone was breaking into my living room, but I reminded myself that it was for a good cause. I figured that, after I fed them, they’d forgive me.

  “I don’t understand what you two are saying,” I say, turning my head back and forth between them.

  Tripp glances over at Breccan and then clears his throat. “We can’t train or represent a known drug abuser, Reb.”

  My stomach drops as what he said registers. For a few tense moments, we just stare at each other.

  Finally snapping out of it, I explode out of my seat, shouting, “He didn’t take those fucking drugs!”

  “He tell you that?” Breccan asks.

  I pause. “Well, no.”

  “Sorry, sis.”

  “Sorry nothing, Tripp Toler. I’m done being nice and trying to kiss your ass. You’re going to represent him.”

  H
e laughs, and the sound just pisses me off further.

  “Stop laughing! This isn’t funny. There’s nothing funny about Ryker’s career being over because of something he didn’t do! You know he lives in Churchill Gardens?” I shriek, my throat growing raw with each word.

  “Fuuuuuuck.” Breccan murmurs. “Churchill? Dammit.”

  I round on him. “Yeah. The worst fucking neighborhood in the entire state. And he’s living in a fucking dump, with his gram because he was accused of taking drugs.”

  “Listen, that sucks. Really, it makes my stomach hurt to think about. But he wasn’t just accused of it. He tested positive for them. He took them.”

  Tripp’s placating tone grates my nerves, but I take a deep breath in through my nose to calm down before I speak again.

  “Tripp. He did. Not. Take. Them.” My teeth are clenched so hard that I worry that I’ll break them. “He won’t even take Tylenol for a headache. I’ve offered him pain relievers at least three different times and not once has he ever accepted. Every time telling me he doesn’t like pumping poison into his body! And his gram said that he’d never do it, either. So, no. He hasn’t told me that he didn’t take the drugs. But I know him, Goddammit. And I know he didn’t do it.”

  Breccan comes over and places his hands on my shoulders. Silently, I plead with him to believe me and give Ryker a chance.

  He blows out a breath. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this.”

  My stomach flips.

  “You get Ryker to come talk to me, tell me straight to my face he didn’t take any drugs, I’ll train with him. You know when his suspension’s up?”

  I haven’t had the chance to do any research on it. I shake my head. “Finding out’s at the top of my to-do list, right below talking to you.”

  He nods, and I reach up onto my toes and kiss him on the cheek.

  Then I whisper, “Thank you, Breccan. I love you, you know that?”

  He musses my hair. “Gotta get home and let Sidney know that you’re not dead. She’s gonna kill you. Ya know that, right.”

  Shit. “Tell her I’m sorry?” I ask weakly.

  He lifts his chin and then clasps hands with Tripp before making his way to my front door.

  Once I hear the door click behind him, I try a different route. I bite my cheek hard enough for tears to spring to my eyes and then squeeze them shut. Turning around, I let out a fake sob and say, “Tripp, please. Please do it for me.”

  A single tear rolls down my face, and I sniffle, all while he stands there with his lips pursed together.

  “Please, big brother?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Cut the crap. I know you’re faking,” he barks.

  I scowl. “Fine. Just fucking say you’ll do it and then get out of my house!”

  “You drive me fucking crazy. Fine. If Breccan agrees to train him, then I’ll represent him.”

  I jump up and down, clapping my hands together.

  He strides into the kitchen and returns with the to-go container of monkey bread. “I’m taking this with me.”

  “Hey, that’s mine!” I whine, but it’s a small price to pay for his agreement.

  After following him to the door, I give him a hug, chuckling to myself when he refuses to return the gesture. Then I assure him, “You won’t regret it. Promise!”

  He trots down my front step.

  I shout, “Love you. Mean it.”

  Climbing into his car, he flips me the bird and then peels out.

  I slam the door and rush to my laptop, plotting out the next step in my plan.

  Chapter Twenty

  Ryker

  The morning after our fight and subsequent make-up session, I woke to an empty bed. Gram relayed Rebecca’s message and assured me that she’d been fine when she’d left, that I had nothing to worry about. But she’s been acting strangely at the gym for the last few days, and I am worried she is having regrets.

  I walk into the gym, surprised Rebecca isn’t there. Tripp is in the corner, his nose stuck in his phone, though.

  “Hey, man,” I call out to him. “What’s going on?”

  He glances up and lifts a chin in my direction before replying, “Not much.” Waving his phone in the air, he grimaces, “Lady problems.”

  I nod and saunter over to him. “Hey, you talk to Rebecca the last coupla days?

  He looks around and then shakes his head, “No. Well, I mean yeah. But just the usual. Why? Something wrong?”

  His behavior is odd, his eyes darting around, but I shrug it off and chalk it up to issues with Aly.

  “No, I guess not,” I say. “We just had a disagreement a few days ago and she’s been acting weird ever since. She snuck out the morning after, and she’s barely said three words to me since.”

  He casts his gaze downward and mumbles something about a burglar.

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  Looking back up, he smirks. “Nothing. I’m sure she’s fine. You know Rebecca. She’s a bit crazy.”

  “That she is, dude.” I chuckle. “That she is.”

  A few minutes later, Rebecca rushes in, her arms full of bags. When she sees me, she shoves them into the bottom drawer of her desk and slams it shut.

  “Hey, doll.” I glance up at the clock. “A little early to be out shopping, isn’t it?”

  She waves a hand in the air. “Yeah. That’s just some stuff I need for later.”

  I eye her suspiciously, and her eyes widen.

  When she sticks a thumbnail into her mouth and begins chewing the polish off, I ask, “Everything okay? You’ve been acting weird since the other night.” I take a step forward and, placing my hand on her hip, pull her to me. Dropping my voice, I ask, “You’re not having any regrets, are you?”

  Her eyebrows furrow. “What? Of course not!” Her arms wrap around my waist, and she gives me a tight hug. “I’ve just been busy with something.”

  “If you’re sure…” I trail off.

  She stands on her toes and kisses me on the cheek. Still not making eye contact, she whispers, “Love you.”

  I release my hold on her hips and step back. “You too, doll. Gotta get to work.”

  A bit too eagerly, she nods. “Okay, then!”

  The rest of the day passes slowly, and I find myself watching Rebecca like a hawk. Aside from her limited interaction with me, she’s her usually quirky self. After stewing on it a while, I decided to chalk her strange behavior up to being swamped with charity work.

  I’m in the middle of a run on the treadmill, Metallica blasting in my headphones, when movement out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. Turning my head, I see Rebecca waving her arms wildly while she and Tripp talk in a corner.

  I pull my headphones off but don’t stop running, hoping not to interrupt whatever they’re arguing about. Their voices are low, so I can’t make out anything they’re saying, but that Tripp keeps cutting his gaze in my direction.

  When we make eye contact, he quickly looks away and his lips move again. Rebecca turns, and when she catches me staring, her eyes widen.

  I turn the machine off and jump off the belt before stalking over to her and Tripp. Before I reach them, Tripp waves at me and then bolts.

  “Tripp, you asshole,” she hisses.

  Over his shoulder, he replies, “Sorry, sis.”

  She plasters a fake smile on her face and asks, “Have a good run?”

  Ignoring her question, I tell her, “Locker room. Now.”

  “Oh, I’ve got something to do.” She looks at her watch and then back at me. “I’m already late. I’ll call ya later.”

  She tries to push past me, but I reach out and grab her arm, stopping her getaway.

  “Locker. Room. Now,” I repeat, this time through clenched teeth. Releasing her arm, I turn and stalk away from her.

  Her heels click on the tile floor behind me as she follows.

  I sling the door open and see Mickey getting dressed. “Out. Now.”

  He doesn’t questio
n me, just grabs his bag and hustles through the door I’m holding open. Rebecca slips in ahead of me, and after it slams shut, I lean against it.

  Crossing my arms across my chest, I command, “Talk.”

  She shuffles over to one of the benches and perches on the edge of it, crossing her legs at the ankle. She stares at her hands, which are in her lap, and she spins the ring on her right hand around and around.

  When she doesn’t say anything, I ask her, “You are regretting the other night, aren’t you?”

  Her head snaps up. “No! I already told you no.”

  “Then what the fuck is going on with you? You’ve barely looked at me in days. You’ve been too busy to see me after work. Your messages are short and vague.”

  She shoots to her feet and says, “I’ve been working on something. I wanted to have it all set up before I talked to you about it.” She cuts her gaze away. “But, since you won’t let it go, I guess I’ll tell you now.” She rushes toward me and asks, “Can you let me out for just a minute? I need to get something from my desk.”

  Reluctantly, I step to the side, and she bolts through the door. I stand in the entranceway, watching her as she prances over to her desk and opens the drawer she shoved the bags in this morning. She pulls them all back out and rushes back over to the locker room. Once she’s back inside, I shut the door and resume my position of leaning against it.

  Rebecca drops the bags on the bench and then turns to me. Her face animated, she tells me exuberantly, “You’re gonna fight again!”

  “Excuse me?” I ask.

  “Breccan’s gonna train you, and Tripp agreed to manage you!”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  She holds a finger up. “Just a minute.” And then she rummages through one of the bags she brought in. Turning back to me, she holds a robe up and beams. “Look! I had it made for you!”

  It’s a gold robe with black lettering that says The Stryker across the shoulders and Team Undisputed beneath it. Beneath the team logo is a list of sponsors.

  My stomach clenches as I zero in on my name on the back of the robe. Memories of my first fight come flooding back. I was too poor to afford anything with my name on it. But I handily won that fight, proving to everyone that I had what it take. When my paycheck came through, the very first thing I did was order team apparel with my name.