Vegas, Baby: Complete Series

by Fiona Davenport

  “Oh, fuck no,” I snarled. I charged to the ring and swung myself up on the side before quickly climbing over the ropes. By the time I reached her, I’d pulled off my long, silver robe and threw it over her shoulders, covering what was for my eyes only.

  She gasped as I tied the robe tightly closed but didn’t have a chance to say anything because I lifted her over my shoulder in a fireman’s hold and marched back over to one side of the Octagon. I maneuvered us over the ropes and then jumped to the ground, easily landing on my feet. Keeping her firmly in my grasp, I stomped over to Knox and gently set her back on her feet. “Hold this for me,” I growled.

  2

  Angelique

  Hold this for me?! What in the heck just happened?

  Fisting my hands at my hips, I turned to glare at the guy who’d just carted me out of the ring and into a corner of the stadium. He was so darn tall, I had to tilt my head all the way back to meet his dark eyes. I gulped a little when I took in how gorgeous he was with chiseled features, lush lips, and thick, dark hair. But just because he was sexier than any guy I’d ever seen before didn’t mean I wasn’t going to give him a piece of my mind. He started to walk away, and I shouted, “Hey, wait! You can’t just pick me up, put me where you want me, and tell some strange guy”—I hitched my thumb in the direction of the man he’d given his ridiculous command to—“to hold me for you...while calling me a ‘this.’ I’m a woman, not a thing.”

  He pivoted back around, and his gaze swept down my body, which was now covered by the huge robe he’d thrown over me. When his eyes came back up again and met mine, they’d darkened a shade. “I’m well aware that you’re a woman. The scraps of material you’re wearing that are supposed to pass for a bikini made it more than clear. I could see just about every inch of your delectable body, including your pebbled nipples pressing against the top.”

  One of the guys behind me chuckled, and I turned to direct my glare at him as my cheeks filled with heat. He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, and said, “I’m not laughing at you. I swear, it’s aimed one hundred percent at Saint.”

  Saint?! Oh, crap! No wonder he was so strong he could pick me up and carry me as though I weighed no more than a small child. He had to be the reigning MMA champ who my brother had somehow weaseled his way into fighting against. I swiveled my head back to Saint and asked, “You’re fighting Vince Butler tonight?”

  His eyebrows lifted as his head jerked back in surprise. “Yeah, I just found out about what happened to Sam. How did you know about the switch before me?”

  “That’s an excellent question,” one of the other guys drawled as they all moved to stand next to Saint. I was all by myself, opposite the line of three hot guys in suits and Saint in nothing more than a pair of fighter shorts and a shirt that did nothing to conceal how muscular his chest was.

  “I’m Knox Dawson, head of security for the Lennox,” the biggest of the suited-up trio introduced himself before jerking his chin at the other two. “This is Drew Lennox, owner of the Lennox, and Zack Parker, co-owner of The Artemis. Both of whom own this arena. As the hosts of the match, we have too much on the line to tolerate security breaches of any kind.”

  Intimidated beyond belief by the three of them, I took a tiny step back and crossed my arms over my chest. A deep growl rumbled up Saint’s chest, and he stalked to my side, wrapping his arm around my waist to pull me close. “Knock it off. You’re scaring her.”

  “Relax, Saint. I don’t think she’s the breach. I meant some Joe Blow on the payroll who’s running his mouth when he shouldn’t,” Knox explained. “Sometimes, guys get dumb around pretty girls and say shit they know they should keep quiet because they’re hoping to impress them.”

  Saint’s arm tightened around me as I groaned, “Eww! That’s not what happened at all.”

  “How’d you find out about the switch, angel eyes?” Saint asked.

  “My brother told me,” I admitted softly, turning my head to search behind me for Vince because I knew he wouldn’t like me tattling on him to these guys. He’d already been on edge when I’d talked to him in the locker room, and I didn’t want to give him a reason to aim his anger my way.

  Saint shifted his hold on me so I was looking at him instead of Knox, Drew, and Zack. I relaxed a little as I stared up at him. Even though Saint should’ve been the scariest of the bunch, I felt safer with him for some reason. “Who’s your brother?”

  “Vince.”

  My one-word reply dropped like a bomb into the silence surrounding us as I watched Saint’s dark eyes fill with rage. His nostrils flared as he looked over my shoulder at his friends. He took a few deep breaths before his gaze dropped back to my face, and most of the anger had drained from his eyes. “Did your brother get you the job as a ring girl?”

  “Yeah,” I confirmed, thinking about how he’d had to pester me into doing it. I wasn’t comfortable walking around barely dressed, let alone in front of a huge crowd of mostly men when I’d be the focus of a lot of their attention as I carried number signs around the Octagon between rounds. Vince hadn’t cared about what I thought about it, not when I’d pull in five thousand dollars in one night since this was a pay-per-view match against the champion. I still hadn’t wanted to do it and had only caved when he’d warned me that if he didn’t find a way to pay off his gambling debt, then his bookie was going to come looking for me too.

  He shifted his focus to Drew. “Pull one of the showgirls and have her take over as the ring girl for the match.”

  “Hey, wait!” I cried. “You can’t do that. My brother got me the job, and I really need the money.”

  “No way in hell are you going out there. Not when I’m about to kick your brother’s ass for getting you a job that has you walking around practically naked,” Saint growled. “Between what I’m being paid just to be here, sponsorship money, fight bonuses, and pay-per-view points, money isn’t something you’ll ever have to worry about again.”

  My brow wrinkled in confusion as I tried to work through how what Saint made led to me not having to worry about money. The other guys were no help as they each nodded as though they totally got it. Drew pulled out his phone, fired off a message, and said, “They’ll have a new ring girl before the end of the first round.”

  “Perfect.” I still hadn’t figured it all out when Saint dropped a kiss on the top of my head before pointing at Knox. “Take care of her while I’m up there.”

  “Will do, man,” he promised. I watched Saint stride away before Knox gently gripped my elbow to lead me closer to the ring, with Drew and Zack following close behind us. The aisles were packed with people making their way to their seats, but everyone moved quickly to get out of our path, so it didn’t take long for us to reach the front row.

  “This is us,” Knox explained as he lifted the reserved signs off four of the seats.

  My legs felt weak, so I dropped onto the chair to his right that he pointed at without arguing. Rubbing my hands over my face, I sighed, “I don’t understand what’s happening here.”

  “What’s your name?” Drew asked after a moment.

  I hesitated, not really sure I wanted them to know my name, but then finally answered. “Angelique.”

  “Well, Angelique. We’d tell you, but it’s more fun to discover on your own,” Drew said with a smirk as he took the seat to my left.

  “It’s good for Saint that our wives aren’t here because they’d definitely fill you in,” Zack added, taking the seat on Drew’s other side. “And then you might get it in your head to run in the opposite direction.”

  “Not that it’d do you much good,” Knox chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned back in his seat and stretched his long legs out in front of him.

  “True,” Zack conceded with a nod. “But it makes it more fun for those of us enjoying the show when they try to resist.”

  “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I know my brother isn’t going to like it,” I mumbled.

  “I wouldn’t w
orry about him being pissed at you, Angelique.” Knox patted my shoulder. “Vince was already outmatched in the fight against Saint. Now that he’s managed to piss him off and make it personal, the little asshole is about to get what’s coming to him.”

  A big part of me wanted to cheer at the thought of my brother being taken down a peg or two by Saint after all the trouble he’d put me through over the years. But not when his threats about what his bookie would do to me still swam in my head...unless Saint really meant it when he said I’d never have to worry about money again.

  3

  Saint

  I hated leaving my girl in the hands of another, but at least I knew they would protect her with their lives. Plus, all three of them were happily married and only had eyes for their wives. This was the only reason I was able to get my head back in the game. Like Knox had said, in a fair fight, Vince wasn’t worth shit in the ring. But he didn’t come to play fair, which meant that even though I knew I’d win, I still had to watch my back a little more than normal.

  I walked up to an outside corner of the ring where my manager, Bobby, was waiting and noticed that the referee looked mad as hell while he yelled into his phone. When he snapped it shut and shoved it into his pocket, he turned to glare out into the audience. I knew exactly who he was directing that nasty look at, and I grabbed the lowest rope, prepared to launch myself up and give the guy a piece of my fist.

  Bobby grabbed my arm and held me back, murmuring, “Save it for the little fucker you’re facing off with, Saint. The ref is an asshole, but he’s not worth the fine and possible suspension if you go after him.”

  I could have easily broken his hold, but his words sank in and helped me calm down. He was right, I didn’t want to take a chance at not having the opportunity to wipe the floor with the scum that should be protecting their sister and not throwing her to the wolves to save his own pathetic skin.

  The announcer began his spiel, and I removed my shirt before climbing into the ring. Bobby situated himself behind me, balancing on the edge of the platform and holding the ropes. His assistant brought over a couple of spare water bottles and towels, ready to pass them up for me when needed.

  We discussed a few points of strategy from the little we knew about Vince. Normally, I would have studied my opponent until I felt like I knew his every strength and weakness. It wasn’t like I hadn’t had to unexpectedly fight a new guy. I was known for being adaptable and rolling with the punches. But it wasn’t common when you reached this stage of the competition.

  I heard my name being called, and the entire arena erupted with noise. The energy coming from the audience was contagious, and it surged through me. I bounced on my feet a few times and stretched my shoulders and neck.

  Vince was just entering the ring when they announced his name, and there was a noticeable drop in volume. The sound lowered to a fervent murmur, and by the expressions of those I could see through the blinding lights, it was clear that they were confused and shocked by the change.

  Vince’s face twisted with anger, and it pronounced the sharp angles of his face, making his ugly mug downright repulsive. He glanced around, and his mouth drew down into a deeper frown as he clearly didn’t see what he was looking for. Anger flared in his beady eyes when he caught sight of her sitting with my friends, and I wondered again what the fuck he was holding over his sister’s head to convince her to take a job as a ring girl. I intended to find out and take care of it. Then I’d handle Vince more permanently than the beatdown I was about to give him.

  When his eyes finally landed on my face, I saw a flicker of uncertainty before he covered it with a cocky smirk. He spat in my direction and received a chorus of boos.

  Tuning everything out, I prowled to the center of the ring where the ref was standing. Vince joined me, and we bumped knuckles. Then the ref gave us the go-ahead before scampering out of our way.

  Vince attempted to catch me off guard by throwing a fast jab the second the whistle blew, and I decided to let him have one to build up his attitude. The cockier he was, the more likely he would make a mistake.

  We circled each other a few times before he attempted another strike. This time, I danced out of his reach. He’d gone for power over speed and accuracy, so he couldn't catch his footing and stumbled. I caught him as he fell...with my fist. First, his chin and then his stomach. I doled out a few more combos before backing away and giving him a few moments to recover. Taking him down in the first few minutes of the round didn’t seem like much fun.

  As far as hits, I took it fairly easy on him in the first round, but I had him running all over the place, and it was clearly wearing him down. He did have decent speed in his blows when he wasn’t overcompensating with an attempt to hit hard rather than fast. But I took a few jabs here and there when he changed up tactics. When the bell rang to signal the end of the round, he was puffing so hard, his face was a little red.

  Another girl in a tiny bikini grabbed a white numbered sign and walked around the Octagon, and he dragged his sorry ass over to his corner. I gave him a sinister smile before retreating to mine.

  “Playing with your food,” Bobby muttered with an eye roll. I just grinned and shrugged. “When there’s no challenge, might as well have some fun.” I downed a bottle of water and a sports drink. As I wiped the minimal sweat from my brow, I glanced toward my angel eyes and frowned when I saw her worried expression as she stared in the direction of her brother.

  Drew caught my eye and shook his head, then glanced down at her knuckles. They were white from tightly squeezing the arms of her chair. Then he discreetly pointed at me and nodded. Her head swung in my direction, and what I saw in her turquoise eyes surprised me. While there was worry swimming in them, there was also a spark of hope. I instinctively knew that she was concerned over what would happen to her brother now that she wasn’t getting paid and if he lost the fight. But it seemed she was also hoping I’d been honest when I’d told her I would take care of everything. It made me even more confident that I would be able to gain her trust quickly, and then her love would follow.

  It was time for round two, so I tore my eyes away from my girl and realigned my thoughts, focusing on what I had to do so I could get back to her. Vince mean-mugged me as I approached the center and then snarled, “I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing with my sister, but you aren’t going to use her against me. She’ll do anything for me, including giving her cherry to whoever I tell her to, if it will save me.”

  Even though I saw red, I had spent the majority of my life learning to control myself, so I managed to stay calm and calculated. I needed something to satisfy the rage I was suppressing, so instead of continuing to string Vince along, I put power behind each and every punch.

  Vince was getting redder and redder as his anger built. By the end of the round, he was bloodied and bruised, but I’d made sure not to hurt him so much that it ended the fight right then. He’d gotten in a few decent blows, but the bruises from those would be minimal. With the adrenaline flowing through me, I didn’t even feel them.

  When the third round began, I was ready to unleash hell. But I didn’t put enough stock in Vince’s desperation, and while I was trying to keep my eye out for dirty and illegal tactics, being prepared for them was nearly impossible. I’d grabbed Vince in a clinch, and the next thing I knew, he’d headbutted me so fast, even I would have doubted it happened if I hadn’t felt the pain. I didn’t lose my footing, but my grip on him slackened just enough for him to break free and deliver a piledrive, “spiking” me on the head. The ref caught the second move and shouted a warning at Vince, who held up his hands and tried to look contrite.

  I was done fucking around.

  The round only lasted a few more minutes because that was all it took for me to beat the living shit out of my girl’s asshole brother. The ref and my manager had to rush into the ring to stop me from killing him. But I was too far ahead in points for the deductions that caused to keep me from being named the vict
or. Besides, the cable networks and the UFC shareholders overlooked a lot of shit if it boosted their ratings.

  The press was already clamoring for interviews when I hopped down from the Octagon. The crowd kept me from going straight to my angel eyes, and I almost laid a few of them out when I saw her jump to her feet and take a few steps in her brother’s direction. I breathed easier when I saw Knox gently grasp her arm and say something that halted her steps.

  “Saint! Saint!”

  A million questions were being thrown at me, and I held up a hand, gaining immediate silence. “I’m giving you three minutes. Now, one at a time.”

  I answered a few reporters about my reaction to Sam’s accident and who he was replaced with. When we neared the end of the three minutes, I thought maybe I’d gotten off easy. Then Porter Grange, who worked for Fighters Now, the biggest MMA magazine in the world, piped up. “I’ve never seen you go at an opponent that hard, Saint. You’re known for your control. Was Butler actually able to get under your skin?” He grinned, knowing his inquiry would irritate the fuck out of me.

  “You should know what a dumbass question that is, Grange,” I sneered. Bobby surreptitiously yanked on my arm hair, causing me to swallow a wince. It was his way of silently warning me to watch my mouth.

  “Okay,” Porter replied with a smirk. “If it wasn’t because you lost your cool, then why the calculated and unusually harsh beating?”

  I knew Bobby would want me to play it off, to deflect and sway them to believe that I hadn’t acted out of character, that it only seemed harsh because Vince was a weakling, or that I’d had one too many sports drinks...what-the fuck-ever. The last thing he would want was exactly what I said.

  “Because the motherfucker had it coming.”

  4