Alex (A Cocky Cage Fighter Novel Book 9)

by Lane Hart

  “I don’t care,” I tell him honestly. “This is worth all of that and more.”

  “Okay. Give me the account number, and I’ll start working on it.”

  “How long will it take?” I ask impatiently.

  “A few days at least –” he starts to say, but I interrupt.

  “No! You don’t understand. This can’t wait!” I exclaim. “It has to be today!”

  Heaving a sigh, he finally replies. “Calm down. I’ll see what I can do, but there are no guarantees. It takes time to move this much money, and it may not happen until tomorrow morning.”

  “Thank you,” I tell him before reading the account number from the sheet of paper still clutched in my fist.

  When I disconnect the call, the whole gym is silent, and everyone is staring at me.

  “My father is going to try to do it today, but it may be tomorrow,” I say directly to Abby.

  A loud sob escapes from her mouth before she slaps a hand over it and then launches herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck so tightly I may suffocate.

  “Thank you!” she cries into my neck. “Thank you so much!”

  Despite how angry I was at Whitney or hurt by what she did, I still love her. So much so that I would easily give up my future to make sure she’s safe.

  After trading phone numbers with Abby and making her promise to call me as soon as she hears anything, I grab all my things from my locker and walk home.

  I call Luke on the way.

  “Hey, man,” I say glumly when he answers.

  “Alex? Hey, how’s it going?” he asks.

  “Not good,” I tell him honestly. “I’m sorry, but I have to leave.”

  “You’re leaving? Like, going back to Maryland?”

  “Yeah, probably today or tomorrow. I wasn’t planning this or anything, and I hate just dropping it on you at the last minute,” I explain, rubbing my stomach that still feels like it’s revolting while we wait to hear about Whitney. God, she better be okay. I can’t imagine any other outcome…

  “Is everything okay?” Luke asks.

  “No, but I can’t really explain. Whitney is missing –”

  “Whoa! What do you mean Whitney is missing?” he exclaims. “Are you at the apartment or Havoc?”

  “Walking back to the apartment.”

  “I’m on my way. Should I call Abby?” he asks. “Where is she?”

  “She’s at Havoc if you want to go by there first,” I tell him.

  “Okay, I will, and then I’ll see you back at home in a few.”

  “See ya,” I say before ending the call.

  I’m trying not to freak out, to think the worst, but it’s impossible.

  Nice people aren’t typically kidnappers.

  Maybe the police will find them.

  Nah, that’s giving them too much credit, especially if they don’t have any leads to go on.

  Looking around at the stores and residential homes as I walk, I know Whitney could be fucking anywhere in this town or…or halfway across the country by now.

  Fuck!

  She has to be okay. Whitney is tough and smart; maybe she’ll even get away.

  Instead of those positive thoughts, only the negative ones seem to be running through my mind as I try to keep myself busy throwing clothes in my bag.

  Hard to believe it was just a little over seven months ago when this bag of clothes was all I had. Now I’m leaving this place with nothing but the same, yet it feels like I’m returning with even less than I started with.

  I don’t give a shit about going back home to work for my father, giving up my trust and my chance at fighting for a championship in California.

  None of that matters knowing that Whitney could be out there scared and hurt with criminals and there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it.

  “Hey,” Luke says when he appears in my doorway an hour or so later. “So you’re leaving for good?”

  “Yeah, I have to,” I tell him. “And I know it’s a dick move after offering you a place to stay just a few months ago.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he replies with a wave of his hand. “I’ve been wanting to move in with Megan and my little man anyway but didn’t want to bail on you.”

  “Good,” I say in relief that he’s not angry.

  “I saw Abby, and I feel fucking awful for her,” he tells me. “Everyone’s going over to her parents’ house to wait for news if you want to come.”

  “Yeah, let’s go,” I tell him.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Whitney

  My stomach is constantly growling, and my mouth is so dry my lips are cracking. I’m not sure how many hours I’ve been here, tied to a metal chair, but it’s been several long ones. Outside, the sun is beginning to set, and I think they burst into my room and grabbed me this morning around noon. At least they let me use the bathroom when they first brought me into the gutted out, rundown house that reeks of mold, or I would literally be in a mess. The foul-smelling gag has been removed from my mouth with the threat of its return if I say a word.

  The silent waiting game has my nerves all shot to hell. Every time one of the two men flinch in their own chairs opposite mine, I tense up. While I haven’t stopped trying to get my wrists out of the plastic zip ties, I don’t seem to be making any progress other than causing the hard edge to saw into my skin a little deeper.

  Thankfully, neither of the scumbags have touched me since putting me in the chair and zip tying each of my ankles to the chair legs. So even if I do get my wrists free, I would have to try and run out of here with my legs shoulder width apart, dragging behind a loud clanging chair.

  All the anxiety and escape attempts are wearing me down, exhausting me, but I don’t dare close my eyes in a room with two strange men.

  The ringing of a cell phone is a welcome reprieve from the silence even if it does scare the shit out of me.

  “Yeah?” Baldy says into the device while staring vacantly at me with cold, dead eyes. “Already? You’re sure? Okay. If my account balance checks out, we’re good.”

  He pulls the phone away from his ear and starts typing on it.

  Such a short conversation, yet I can’t help but think it had everything to do with me. There’s no way my parents were able to come up with the money these guys asked for in such a short amount of time, so what’s going on?

  “Release her,” Baldy says to Greasy.

  Wait. They’re really going to release me? Just like that? It sounds almost too good to be true. I glance back and forth between the men to try and read what they’re not saying.

  “We’re gonna let you go; then we’re gonna walk out. Don’t try and follow us out. You wait and count to one hundred after our van cranks before you leave or we’ll drag you right back in here,” Baldy tells me. I nod my agreement; because if they’re going to get out of here and leave me behind, I sure as fuck won’t be going after them.

  Whipping out a pocket knife, Greasy goes around behind the chair. And then within a few seconds, my wrists are blessedly free. I fleetingly consider gouging his eyeballs out when he kneels down in front of me to cut the ties off my ankles and blatantly looks up my gown. Figuring that would not go over well with Baldy, I keep my hands to myself.

  Without another word, the two men stroll out of the room. I hear a door open and close inside the house, and then I hold my breath waiting for the sounds of the van being cranked.

  I swear it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard when it comes. Even though I want nothing more than to take off running out the door to escape this nightmare, I remember our deal, start counting to myself, and only move once I’m certain it’s been long enough.

  Only then do I tiptoe cautiously to the front door and peek out of it before leaving the house. The neighborhood is empty other than boarded up houses in worse shape than the one I just spent hours in, which means there are no other people around. Not letting that stop me, I take off barefoot down the overgrown grassy yard, onto the
ice-cold pavement, and then I walk and walk some more until I finally see the lights glowing at none other than a McDonald’s. Those golden arches represent safety, and of course, it also reminds me of Alex.

  That’s when the first sob escapes and tears begin to race each other down my cheeks. As soon as I walk through the doors, everyone freezes and stares at me. I can’t imagine how insane I look underneath the blinding florescent lights wearing a nightgown, barefoot, with morning bedhead and a red, tear-stained face.

  “Can someone please call a cab to take me to the police station?” I ask as pleasantly as possible even though all I want to do is fall apart.

  “Sure thing, sweetheart,” an older lady says from a booth. Slipping on her glasses that are dangling from a chain around her neck, she reaches into her hobo purse and takes out a phone.

  My body is so weak and worn out that I collapse into a chair at an empty table to wait for my rescue.

  …

  Alex

  My stomach stays in knots as I pace around the main floor of Whitney and Abby’s parents’ house while we all wait for news. I’m trying to remain optimistic; but with each passing second that we don’t hear from Whitney, that becomes harder.

  Senn, Luke, Nate, Mace, Trick, Jude, and Linc are all here too, each of them looking ready to beat some ass if they knew who took my girl while I try not to spew vomit all over the Merchants’ finery.

  God, I keep doing that, referring to her as “my girl” when that’s not the reality. The last time I spoke to Whitney was when I was yelling at her, calling her a prostitute. I was angry, dammit, and I still think I had every right to be after finding out she was seeing another man, but that doesn’t mean I don’t regret how it all went down.

  Our argument seems so petty now that Whitney is missing. Thinking of never seeing her again and replaying that night over and over again is making me go crazy.

  Several of the fighters’ wives are also here, trying to comfort Abby and her mom and dad. I get that they’re worried to death, just like I am, if not more so; but I swear Mrs. Merchant has gone through at least two bottles of wine. She’s so wasted she can’t even stand without someone supporting her.

  And with all the other horrifying thoughts about where Whitney is and who has her, I can’t help but notice that the prick from last night is nowhere to be seen. Where was Mr. Moneybags when she needed him?

  A little before nine o’clock, the house phone rings, and Abby is the first one to leap for it.

  “Hello?” she asks, the one word so full of hope that my chest aches for her. “Oh, thank God!” she exclaims before she announces to everyone gathering around, “She’s safe! She’s at the police station scared shitless but unharmed.”

  The next second, an enormous sigh of relief ripples through the house full of worried guests.

  I say a quick thank you to God and my father for coming through when I needed him to. Then I remember the deal I made with him about coming home in exchange for his help and wish I didn’t have to go.

  “What a freaking day, right?” Luke says when he comes up and gives me a one-arm hug.

  “Yeah,” I agree.

  “Are you ready?” he asks as everyone grabs their belongings and starts toward the front door to head to the police station.

  “I think I’m gonna call an Uber to take me back to the apartment to grab my things,” I admit.

  “What? Why do you have to do that right now?” Luke questions with his forehead creased in confusion. “Don’t you want to see Whitney? I thought you would be the first one out the door.”

  “I…I need to get to the bus station tonight,” I explain.

  “Tonight?” he exclaims. “With everything going on, can’t you just wait and leave in the morning after you see her?”

  “I wish I could, but no,” I reply. My dad came through for me, and I would be an asshole to not fulfill my end of the bargain. At least that’s what I tell myself.

  Do I want to see Whitney before I leave? Fuck yes. But that will only make it that much harder to leave her when I no longer have a choice.

  “Fine,” Luke says. “I think you’re nuts, but I’ll take you if you’re sure that’s what you want to do.”

  “Thanks,” I reply. “My dad’s expecting me. Will you just tell Whitney that I’m glad she’s okay?”

  “Sure, man,” he says with a slap on my shoulder.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Whitney

  “Ohmygod, ohmygod,” my sister says over and over as we hug in the hallway of the police station. “I’m so glad you’re okay! Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks for the millionth time since everyone showed up. Of course coming straight to the police wasn’t my first choice once I was freed, but it seemed like the most appropriate place to go after being kidnapped. I was able to give as many details as I could about what the two men looked like, the van they were driving and the tools inside.

  “I’m fine,” I assure Abby, even though it’s a partial truth. I may not have been physically harmed by the strangers, but they did a number on me psychologically, and I’m certain I don’t want to be alone tonight. All the panic of not knowing what they were going to do, if I was going to live to see my family again, made me a head case.

  Abby thankfully had some spare workout clothes in her car that she let me put on before I faced the group that’s gathered around to celebrate me surviving.

  My parents are visibly upset when they hug me but have been silent, which is strange. A lot of guys from Havoc are here too, I assume since they know Senn and Abby so well, but the one fighter I was looking forward to seeing the most is missing.

  “Who are you looking for?” Abby asks when she notices my shifting gaze after everyone has hugged me and is starting to leave.

  “Alex,” I admit on a heavy exhale. “I mean, it’s stupid, but I thought he would be here. That he would give a shit that I could’ve been killed or…or worse!” My voice rises as I vent until I’m breaking down and sobbing again.

  “Aww, sis, Alex does care,” Abby says as she hugs me to her tightly again.

  “If he cared, then why isn’t he here?” I ask through sniffles as I rest my head on her shoulder.

  “He’s not here?” she repeats, pulling away to spin around the lobby looking for him. “Luke’s not here either. They were both at the house, so I thought they were following us all over here.”

  “Nope, Alex is definitely not here,” I say miserably as I wrap my arms protectively around myself. “Guess he hasn’t forgiven me, even after all this.”

  “Um, Whitney, I don’t know if he’s forgiven you or not,” Abby starts. “But he must love you because he’s the one who paid the ransom.”

  “Huh?” I ask. “What are you talking about?”

  “Alex told us he could get the money, and then he made a call and, well, here you are.”

  “Alex paid the ransom?” I ask for clarification, and Abby nods. “Alex came up with ten million dollars? You’re sure?”

  “Yes, your Alex.”

  “How?” Shaking my head, I tell her, “Alex can’t even afford a car!”

  “We were all shocked, but apparently, his family is like billionaires or something,” she explains, but it sounds like she’s speaking another language.

  “Alex’s family is billionaires?” I repeat and she nods. “I guess that sort of makes sense. I mean, he said his dad kicked him out and cut him off. Guess he had a lot to be cut off from.” That’s when it suddenly hits me, the argument from dinner last night.

  “Oh, my God,” I mutter. “I need to talk to him. To thank him. Can I borrow your phone?” I ask Abby before I realize I don’t have his number memorized. “Shit! Never mind. I don’t have his number with me.”

  “I can call Luke; maybe he’s still with him,” Abby suggests.

  “Yeah! Do that!” I tell her.

  She quickly gets her phone out and calls him up. Thankfully, Luke answers.

  “Luke! Where are you? Is Alex with
you?” She then pauses for his response. “What do you mean he’s gone?” she asks into the phone.

  “Gone?” I repeat as my heart jumps up into my throat.

  “I’m sorry, Whit. Luke said he took Alex to the bus station and that the bus to Maryland left ten minutes ago,” Abby conveys to me.

  “Shit!” I exclaim. “Why is he going up there? When is he coming back?”

  Abby asks Luke for me and then shakes her head. “He said he’s not coming back.”

  “No! He can’t just up and leave me after saving my life!” I yell.

  I need to see him, to try and make him forgive me. Now that I know that his family is so freaking rich I think I get why he was so upset about what I was doing with Kenneth. He thought I was only after his money like that dancer girl he was with, which was true in a way, although I had good reasons. There has to be some way to fix things between us, to make him understand…

  “Guess you’re going to Maryland?” Abby asks when she ends the call, reading my mind.

  “Damn right I am,” I reply. As soon as I get a shower and maybe a little sleep, I’m packing a bag, and then I’m going to drive my ass up to Maryland. I will hunt that man down if I have to, but he’s going to talk to me at least one more time!

  “Good, you should find him and kiss him for me,” Abby says. “Are you ready to go home?”

  “Do you think I could stay with you and Senn tonight?” I ask hesitantly since I don’t want to sleep in my room.

  “Ah, yeah, of course,” she answers right away.

  “I mean, do you think I could sleep in the bed with you?”

  “Are you kidding? Sharing a bed with two women would be Senn’s dream come true,” Abby jokes while wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “We’ll stay in the guest room,” she says seriously. “And figure out the plan for getting your man.”

  …

  Alex

  “Dad? Mackenzie? Rowe?” I call out as I ring the doorbell and knock on the mansion’s front door at five o’clock in the morning. When I lived here, I didn’t have to worry about keys because one of the guards was always with me when I returned.