by S. Nelson
He shook his head but didn’t make a move to leave. Instead, he shoved his hands into his jeans, his thumbs sticking out of the pockets. I recognized that stance. He wasn’t going anywhere until he was good and ready. Frustrated with the entire scenario, I finally moved past him, my arm brushing his in the process. That slight touch tore me up and pissed me off all at the same time. But instead of getting trapped inside my overactive head, I snatched my purse from behind the counter and moved toward the door, fishing around inside the oversized bag to locate the keys to the shop. When I pushed the door open and stepped outside, I didn’t need to look back to see if Kaden was following because I felt him next to me. Too close to be comfortable. He moved to the side, waiting until I secured the doors. I still had no idea why he was still here, but I’d be damned if I said another word to him.
I turned to walk toward my car, but he stepped in front of me, the warmth of his breath spanning over my cheek. It was then I smelled the faint scent of beer on his breath, along with a waft of cheap perfume.
“You reek like a whore.” The words flew out of my mouth before my brain could filter them. No doubt he’d just come from Flings or Indulge, two of the club’s strip joints, and either he was messing around with one of those skanks or they’d rubbed up on him as soon as he walked in.
Linc had let it slip once that the women there were relentless, practically climbing all over the guys from the club. I left the room soon after he’d told me that. I couldn’t sit there and listen to any more, picturing those bitches all over Kaden. And the shitty thing was… I couldn’t say a goddamn thing about it.
Instead of responding to my outburst, Kaden moved with me when I tried to sidestep him, his eyes raking over me while he kept his lips sealed.
“What the hell are you doing?” Again, I tried to escape, but it was futile. He had something on his mind, and it looked like I wasn’t going anywhere until he said whatever he needed to. Although why he had anything at all to say to me was a mystery.
He reached out to touch me but stopped when I flinched. He lowered his arm and tucked his hand back into his jeans pocket.
“Riley, I think we should talk.” He sounded sincere, but there was no way I was gonna stand here on an isolated sidewalk, at night, just the two of us, and have a conversation. The time for talking had long since passed and just because he chose tonight to engage me didn’t mean I had to listen.
“I don’t have anything to say to you.” I retreated a step. “Ever again.” Curiosity made me want to listen, but it was useless. We’d go round and round, and I’d get frustrated, then upset, and we’d start shouting at each other. The whole song and dance had been played out before and it got us nowhere. I knew the outcome of our conversation even without knowing the content. It didn’t matter.
In my anger, I mistakenly flexed my fingers at my side, and as soon as the quick pain erupted, I cursed right before bringing my injured finger to my lips. Perhaps I was being a bit dramatic, but the damn thing hurt. Before I could soothe the cut with my mouth, Kaden grabbed my finger and pulled it toward him.
“Another paper cut?” There was no way he could see where I’d gotten the cut, but he’d seen what digit it was. “You’re forever getting these.” Before I could yank my hand from his, he wrapped his lips around my finger, the warmth of his tongue helping to assuage the sting yet throw me completely off-balance… emotionally.
I’d gotten quite a few of these cuts before, as most people had, and each time Kaden would run his tongue over the affected area. The only difference was that in the past, I thought the gesture was sweet. Now, the only thing that I could think of was that he had a set of balls on him, touching me so intimately, reminding me of a time when we were each other’s world.
When I managed to snatch back my fleeting wits, I pulled away from him and cradled my hand against my chest, acting like what he’d done hurt me instead of helped me. Because in reality, the smallest sign that he saw me like he used to was the biggest threat to me. I couldn’t explain the notion in words but hoping for a different relationship between us would only mean I’d be setting myself up for failure, and I’d done that more times than was healthy.
“I need to go.” I stood tall and took a deep breath, praying he’d turn and leave or at the very least, let me pass without blocking me again.
“I hate that you’re still so angry,” he said, arching his brow ever so slightly.
“I’m not angry because that would indicate that I care. And I don’t. Not in the least.”
“Liar.” The corner of his mouth lifted before falling, and I couldn’t tell if he wanted to smile and then thought better of it, or if the twitch was involuntary. Either way, I didn’t appreciate being called a liar. “You forget that your green eyes darken to gray when you fib.” I didn’t respond, and when he realized I wasn’t going to banter, he tried a different tactic. Sort of. “You can’t tell me you don’t care about me at all. I know you, better than you know yourself.” Again, he reached out to touch me, but his arm fell when I moved back a step.
“Used to know me. I’m not that same person anymore.”
“She’s still in there.” Was he going to stand here and argue every point I made?
“I don’t have time for this.” The feel of his name on my tongue would infuriate me even more than I already was so I refused to say it. “Besides, I’m sure Ace and my brother are waiting for you.” Figuring if I reminded him it was his turn to attend Linc’s fight, he’d give up trying to talk to me.
Two of the guys from the club would take turns attending my brother’s fights, both as a show of support for one of their own but more so to ensure Linc didn’t have any issues with receiving and holding on to his winnings. Whenever he was announced as one of the contenders, the pool increased because he was the guy to beat.
Back in the day, the undefeated guy in the MMA-style underground fighting world was Jagger, one of the other members of the club, but he retired eight years ago. Soon afterward, he started training my brother, but only after convincing our dad to let him do it. Jagger missed the sport and since he could teach Linc more things specific to that fighting world, more than our dad could, he was given the go-ahead to do so.
Now my brother held the title of undefeated, an achievement that was impressive, even if I didn’t care much for the sport, and I used that term loosely.
I wasn’t sure if it was the daggers I shot at Kaden, or my eye rolling or the fact my fists continued to clench at my sides, paper cut be damned, but he finally relented and turned to walk away from me. But before he gave me his back, he had one last thing to say.
“I will get you to talk to me, Ry. One way or another.” He inhaled another breath and I waited for him to spew something else, but he pressed his lips together instead. And I hated that he used the nickname he’d given me when we were kids, the familiarity heightening my anger to a whole other level, as well as my hurt.
He finally tore his eyes from me and strode toward his bike. Without wanting to, I watched him straddle the impressive machine, click his helmet into place, and turn over the engine, the sound drowning out all my inner thoughts. Out of everything that just happened, I was most thankful that he didn’t look back at me because I would’ve surely given away my weakness.
That I was still in love with the bastard.
2
“What the hell took you so long, man?” Ace asked as soon as I backed my bike up next to his and killed the engine. I stopped off at the Underground, the club’s bar, and had a few shots after my run-in with Riley. I was surprised I’d made it to Linc’s fight at all.
I couldn’t stand here and say I was shocked I ran into her because I’d gone to her place of business, after all, but what I didn’t expect was the amount of hostility she shot my way, even after all these years. The way she looked at me, like she hated the very sight of me, tore at me, and for as much as I wanted to play off her anger as unjustified, I deserved every fucking bit of it.
I
’d dived headfirst into the MC as soon as I got my diploma, the one requirement my dad had for me. My mom wanted me to go to college and get a degree, in what I couldn’t fathom, but I wanted to follow my dad into the club. The life called to me at a young age, the brotherhood among the men something I wanted to be a part of. I was an only child, and while I had plenty of friends, there was something different about belonging to the Knights.
Because I’d been so wrapped up in the club, I didn’t have much time for Riley and our secret relationship, an aspect that drove a wedge further between us as time went on because not only could we not tell anyone about us for fear of what Stone would do, but I didn’t have a single soul to talk to whenever I needed advice.
The distance started slowly, me canceling our plans, then going days without any form of communication because I was either handling club business or I was trying to unwind with some of the guys only to end up getting drunk and then crashing at the clubhouse.
At some point, Riley had had enough and stopped taking my calls altogether, avoiding me at all costs. Occasionally, I’d see her at a club get-together or at someone’s house for a party, but she’d leave soon afterward. Then as the years passed, it became easier to stay away.
Until recently.
A dream I had recently rattled me, pushing me toward mending my relationship with Riley. I needed to get her back into my life in some capacity, even if it was just as friends. She used to be my best friend at one point.
I never did end up answering Ace, brushing past him and yanking open the door to the abandoned building where the bout was being held. Each fight Linc had was at a different location because it was too risky to hold them in the same place for fear of police finding out and shutting shit down. Illegal gambling was the main reason, but any raid on these places and half of those attending would be arrested for either drunk and disorderly or drug possession.
Which led me to the question as to why Ace wanted to invite Chelsea tonight. I understood he had a thing for her, but I sure as shit wouldn’t want Riley at one of these fights. Plainly put, it wasn’t safe. So, when she declined to join us earlier, I was happy I didn’t have to worry about her being here.
“Wait up,” Ace shouted from behind me, no doubt lagging because he waited for Chelsea to catch up in those ridiculous heels of hers. Who wears shit like that to an underground fight?
Again, I didn’t respond, pushing my way through the throngs of overly excited and drunk bastards littering the wide-open space. Making my way toward the back hallway, I descended the stairs before opening every door searching for Linc. On my fourth try, I found him standing in the middle of the room, shadow boxing and doing some sort of fancy-ass footwork. He didn’t see me enter until Ace and Chelsea filed in behind me.
“Hey,” Linc greeted, zoning in on Chelsea. “Is my sister here?” The hope in his voice quickly deflated when she shook her head.
“I tried to convince her to come but she wouldn’t budge.”
“Ah, well. Maybe next one.” He tried to play off Riley’s absence as no big deal, but he had to know she didn’t like coming to see this shit. “Can one of you help me with my wraps?” He strode across the room and hopped on the table, waiting for either me or Ace to accept. But he didn’t have to wait long, Ace beating me to it.
“Where’s Jagger?” I asked, curious as to why he wasn’t here tonight. He attended every one of the fights, coaching Linc the entire time from the corner of the ring. Jagger had been the man to beat way back when, and when he finally retired, he pushed all his knowledge and expertise onto Linc, who readily accepted.
Now, Linc was the fucker to beat.
“Kena and the boys are sick, so he had to skip this one.”
“He’d probably rather be here.”
“Probably,” Linc agreed, holding out his hand for Ace to start wrapping.
No one said anything else, all of us listening to the sound of the crowd cheering for the current bout. The fluorescent lights jiggled from the stomps overhead, pieces of plaster from the ceiling falling all around us as the shouts got louder. The fight was nearing the end and whoever was winning seemed to be amping the crowd into a frenzy.
Chelsea pushed closer to Ace once he was done helping Linc, the previous excitement that resided on her face being changed to one of worry. Couldn’t say I blamed her. Shit, if I was a chick, I would’ve stayed as far away from these places as I could. We wouldn’t let anything happen to her, but I understood her fear all the same.
Ten minutes after we arrived, the door swung open and hit the wall behind it, the force making Chelsea jump in surprise. Ace swung his arm over her shoulder, leaned down and whispered something into her ear. Whatever he said made her relax, that was until two large guys in suits entered, looking shady as all hell.
“Crosswell, you’re up,” one of them grunted before they both disappeared. Why they both had to be present for the announcement confused me, but there was no time to contemplate before we rushed out of the room, down the dimly lit hallway, and up a narrow stairwell.
Standing at the back of the room, I took in the view before glancing over at Linc. He appeared the picture of calm, but if I was in his shoes, I’d be shittin’ myself. I never backed down in a fight, even got enjoyment out of some of them, but I couldn’t willingly go up against some of these crazy bastards who chose to fight for a living. Some of them had been training for years, but then again, so had Linc. Which was exactly why he was the fighter of the club and not me, a portion of his prize money being funneled back into the MC.
We all had different roles, and sometimes they switched up over the years, but so far, my contribution was that of one of the resident mechanics.
Patting Linc on the back, I asked, “You ready, brother?”
“Yup.”
The roar of the crowd was the only music Linc needed to hype himself up before entering the cage. The three of us followed him down the walkway, Chelsea sandwiched between me and Ace. As soon as the referee announced Linc as being the final fighter, the mob of people went ballistic, chanting his name over and over. He was clearly a fan favorite.
Linc was up against a burly bastard, whose name I didn’t catch. The prize was ten grand, and I had no doubt that Linc would be waltzing out of here with the purse. He was undefeated, after all.
The moment Linc stepped into the ring, I pulled out my phone and hit the stopwatch app. Earlier today, Ace and I made a bet as to how long the fight would last. Neither of us knew anything about who he would be fighting, but we knew our brother well enough that who his opponent was made no difference. My guess was under eight minutes. Ace placed his betting time at ten minutes.
With Chelsea tucked into Ace’s side for protection, we all watched, along with the throngs of spectators to see how this fight would unfold.
Linc had some impressive moves, most of which I’d seen either during his training sessions or at one of his other fights. The guy was talented, and even though his opponent was larger than he was, he simply was no match for Linc’s skill and speed. With a few quick and precise jabs to the guy’s head and ribs, it was the choke hold Linc surprised the guy with that sealed the deal.
The entire fight took four minutes and eighteen seconds, putting my winnings at a cool hundred.
The explosion of noise from the crowd was our cue to leave. We surrounded Linc as he stepped out of the ring, eager to celebrate his victory back at the clubhouse.
3
“You good?” I asked Linc as soon as he came out of the office, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
“Yup. Let’s get out of here.”
Ace and Chelsea followed us toward the exit, but a commotion off in the corner caught not only my attention but Linc’s as well. In fact, his entire body bristled the closer he stepped toward the small crowd, although I couldn’t understand why. Everyone in attendance tonight was either drunk or overly excited, which meant handsy and loud; the crowd we approached no different.
I stro
de beside him, leaning over and asking, “You see someone you know?” We were still too far away for me to see if anyone looked familiar, but every step closer had my heart pumping faster.
When some of the crowd cleared, I saw exactly who we were walking toward. The Savage Reapers.
My dad had told me some stories over the years about the war that went on between the Knights and the Reapers, but when I pressed him for more information, he’d shut down, leaving out many specifics I was sure. I never understood why and probably never would. All I had to know was that there was bad blood between our clubs, and I didn’t see any of that shit workin’ itself out anytime soon, if ever.
When we got closer, the Reaper with the shaved head and scraggly beard, I believed his name was Rock, nudged his buddies and jerked his chin in our direction. He knew who we were as well, although our cuts made it obvious. The only one without a cut was Linc and that was because he never brought it here for fear of someone swiping it.
There were five of them, making it uneven in case shit popped off. And even though we needed Ace with us in case things went south, I turned around and told him to get Chelsea out of here. It didn’t take him long to comply, not wanting her anywhere near this scene, no matter what.
Once they left, Linc stepped toward Rock.
I’d seen a Reaper here and there at these fights, but nothing ever came of it. They stayed on their side and we stayed on ours. But right now, something got under Linc’s skin and I was dying to know what.
“Where is she?” Linc asked.
The guy smirked before crossing his arms over his chest. He was a big guy, more fat than muscle, but he was broader and taller than both of us, and I had a feeling if Linc wasn’t such a trained badass, he wouldn’t have bothered getting up close and personal.
“Who you talkin’ ’bout?”
“You know who.” With all the commotion from the crowd still on high, I was surprised I heard a word either of them said, but the intensity blocked out some of the other noise.