I looked over my shoulder and saw Leo nodding to me lifting up his right hand to signal that I should open with my right hook. If I was fast enough I could block this guy’s first punch and get him in the side of the face before he even knew what was coming.
I heard the whistle blow, and the crowd around me was drowned out. The only thing I could hear was the beating of my own heart. Just as Leo had anticipated, the guy came at me first and I dodged him, standing back up and landing a right hook directly under his chin. He kicked me in the left side where I had broken those ribs, and I winced under the pain. But it was just pain. I could do this, without the pills. I backed up, giving some space between us and waiting for him to advance. When he finally did, I set off a roundhouse kick that got him right in the head. He was on the ground in a second—I heard the thump of his body hitting the floor. I sat on top of him and gave him a few more good punches in the face as I heard Leo yell, “Get him kid! Show ‘em what you’re made of.”
I landed one more good face shot before the ref pulled me off him. I turned around to look into the crowd and saw Georgie standing with a very unhappy look on his face. His guy was about to get beat, and he knew it.
The whistle blew again, and this time the guy advanced too fast for me to set my hands before he landed a blow to my face. My head was pounding but I kept going. I pushed ahead, putting us into a lock. After the ref separated us, I bounced around the cage a bit trying to figure out my next move. I wanted to look at Leo, but I didn’t want to lose eye contact with my opponent. He would take that opportunity to strike.
But he wasn’t as smart as I was. He looked at Georgie, who made a kicking motion, but I ran at him. A direct punch between his eyes and he was flat on his back, almost out cold. I knew what that meant. I was the victor. The referee held my arm up in the air and the crowd cheered my name. I ran down from the cage and searched the crowd for Berkley, finding her standing right next to Leo, who was clapping with a huge smile on his face. He was always proud of me, and I was lucky for that.
“You won!” She screamed. “Oh my God Dillon, you won!”
I took out my mouth guard and spit out a little extra blood before wrapping my hands around her face and kissing her with all the force I had just had in the cage.
I won the fight.
In the cage, and for her heart.
Wanted
A Bad Boy Billionaire Auction Romance
By Nicole Elliot
Prologue
I held his hand as he winced, the medicine pumping through his body.
“Just a little longer Declan, you can do it.” I wasn’t sure if I was reassuring him, or myself. Watching him writhe in pain was about as horrible as it could get.
My brother.
Sick.
Same illness that took Mom. Our genes apparently sucked.
“It hurts.” He grimaced as another wave rolled through his body.
“I know buddy, I know, but this is going to make it better. I promise.”
I knew it wasn’t a promise I could keep. But I was sure as hell going to try.
Chapter 1
Sydney
The light wasn’t on in the house, as I pulled into the driveway. Julia’s funky Mini Cooper wasn’t there either, so I snatched the nicer spot under a tree, which would provide a cool shade for the car the next morning. I killed the engine and stepped out.
It was half past eight, and after the long day at the store, all I wanted was something to eat and a glass of Pinot. I was working at a grocery store, even though it wasn’t exactly my passion. I was a teacher during the school year, but now that it was summer I had to supplement my income. It was the thing about me – I was practical. Always doing what was right, even if it wasn’t easy.
My roommate, Julia, wasn’t as traditional. After we’d finished college, she tried several desk jobs, but couldn’t just sit in one place. So, she waited tables for a while, then worked the bar, and after a few more promotions she became a PR manager for a company that owned clubs and restaurants all over Chicago. It might have been a more exciting job, but she didn’t like the hours.
That night, as was often the case, Julia was out in the city, promoting one event or another.
I climbed the two flights of stairs that led to my apartment, and was finally home.
I got out of my work clothes and changed into PJs, washing my face in the small bathroom next to my room. It wasn’t a huge apartment, but both Julia and I had our own bathrooms, and I loved mine. It made me feel at home.
As I was making my way to the fridge, my cell phone began ringing. I had to turn around, mid chewing and swallowing, ever so hungry, and go back into the bedroom to answer it.
“Hey, Syd,” the voice on the other end said. “Is this a good time?”
“Hey Declan! Yeah, I just got home. How are you?”
There was a short pause, as if he was hesitant. Classic Declan. “I was just in the area, and I got some Chinese, so…”
“Oh, yes, please!” I said, looking inside the fridge and seeing a lot of ingredients, but no food. “And hurry up!”
Declan hung up, and I got out a cold bottle of wine and some snacks to go with it. Once I settled comfortably on the couch, I poured the wine and waited for Declan, flicking through the TV Shows category on my TV. After a few minutes, I settled on a random episode of Friends, which was my go-to remedy.
The door was unlocked, and halfway into the episode (and a glass of wine), I heard Declan let himself in.
With the glass still in hand, I went to greet him, landing a big hug and grabbing the plastic bags of Chinese he brought.
“You couldn’t wait five minutes, Syd?” he asked, looking at me with a smile.
“First of all, it was more like twenty. Second of all, you look good, Declan. Put on some weight?”
“Oh, fuck off,” he said with a thin smile.
“I’m glad to see you.”
The truth was, Declan didn’t look good. In fact, he looked worse. He was even paler, if that was even possible, and leaner, his clothes now seemingly oversized and baggy. He looked older.
Declan stepped out of his shoes and crashed on the couch. There was something odd about him, a look or embarrassment I knew all too well. I didn’t say anything at first, simply got the food out of the plastic bags and joined him in front of the TV, salivating.
“Is this for me?” he asked, meaning the wine.
I nodded. “Only half a glass, okay?”
Declan didn’t have to ask my permission, but he was being nice. Back before the treatments began, he would have had no problem downing the whole bottle on his own, but now we had to be cautious. Even half a glass was worthy of a celebratory amount, and there was nothing to celebrate. He dropped a white envelope on the table.
I said, “Another bill?”
“Yup. Due next month.”
“Right.”
There was an awkward pause. I hated the awkwardness. I hated that my brother was sick, and how miserable it made him feel. Made both of us feel. And then there was yet another bill to pay. I could only guess how much longer we could keep it up. It was one of those times I really wished our mother was here to give some advice – she had always been the practical one. Our dad had been more into religion, but prayers weren’t working anymore.
I, on the other hand, was doing my best. Declan had burned through his college savings over the past year, and I had been working overtime for the past few months. It was consuming our lives.
I sipped the wine. It was cold and bittersweet on my lips. Rachel and Ross in the background pulled me out of my thoughts.
“I got it, Declan, don’t worry,” I said.
“I’m sorry Syd,” he replied, looking at the TV screen.
“Hey, don’t turn it into a pity party. You don’t have anything to be sorry about.” I paused but he didn’t respond. “Let’s eat dinner.”
We watched the show and talked about nothing in particular, just having a family night,
like in the good old days.
Declan barely touched his food, but emptied my glass rather quickly and relaxed on the couch. He had become withdrawn lately, and I couldn’t blame him. The elephant was in the room, and sometimes it was hard to ignore.
“Hey, cheer up, okay?” I said, mostly to myself. “We’ll figure it out, and you’ll get better.”
He looked at me, as if saying Do you really believe that?
I was used this look, so I nodded, thinking that perhaps it was the wine giving me the optimism. Either way, I’d take it.
We watched another episode, as I finished my noodles. When it ended, I said, “Do you want to stay here tonight? Julia will be back late, so…”
“Nah. I’ll head home, read a book. I don’t sleep much, anyway. Thanks for letting me invite myself.” He began to get up, slowly, minding his balance.
“I’m here for you, Declan. You just let me know if you need anything. Keep your phone nearby.”
“Always do, don’t I?” his phone was in his hand, and I saw the Uber app was open on it.
“Good. I’ll try to visit you over the weekend, okay? And I’ll take care of that bill, so don’t stress about it.”
He nodded wistfully, looking aside. “Thank you.”
“Don’t even mention it.” I kissed his cheek and watched him leave.
I wasn’t honest with him. I was short on money, and would have to borrow some from Julia and some other friends, if I wanted to pay that bill before the end of the month.
Quietly desperate, I sat back down in front of the TV, poured myself another glass and finished Declan’s food. Just like the good old days.
Just moments later, the front door swung open, and Julia stepped in. She walked straight to the table and landed in the armchair. “I’m exhausted!” She proclaimed. “Oh, and I met Declan downstairs! Asked him if he put on weight.”
“Did he tell you to fuck off?”
“He did!”
That put a smile on my lips. Julia checked out the bottle, and took a sip from my glass.
“Yum!”
“Get another bottle,” I suggested, finishing the wine.
At first, Julia was about to get up, but then I sensed something was amiss. She grabbed the bill from the table. “Shit! They’re still chasing you for treatment payment. What the fuck is insurance for these days? How is he feeling anyway?”
“He’s making it.” Now I was feeling the same way my brother had felt. I said, “But the money is bad, Julia. I don’t mean to beg or anything, just letting you know.”
“How much?” my friend asked, reaching into her handbag.
I grinned, “In the long run, more than you could possibly have in your wallet, so, please, don’t.”
Not yet anyway, I wanted to look at my own bank account first, see how dire this all really was.
“Wasn’t going to.” Instead of a wallet, Julia produced a bunch of colorful fliers and began sifting through them. “It must be somewhere in here… Got it!”
She handed me a crumpled piece of paper. There was a carnival mask at the top, with Chicago Buyer’s Club written below it. There was a date and a phone number, but little else.
“I got it from a friend. There’s this fancy place, where billionaires look for girls to go on dates with, sort of like The Bachelor.”
“You’re suggesting I prostitute myself?”
“Not at all! It’s a legit thing. You go there to hang out, find a guy, have a few drinks. It’s a paid gig, I’m told, too, so I thought you could use that…”
“Right. Well, I don’t think I could.”
Julia sighed, then shrugged. “Look, you don’t have to, but think about it. Give them a call.”
“Yeah maybe, I gotta go to the bathroom.” I needed a minute. To process. To escape. With that, I left, leaving her alone with my phone, wine, and the flier that could change my life.
Chapter 2
Owen
I was getting pissed. I’d spent the last hour on the phone, dealing with the worst customer support I had ever encountered.
As smooth jazz played on the other end of the line, I looked down on Grant Park through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my top-floor office in the center of the Loop, the largest financial district in the country. In a way, I was grateful for the pause and the rare moments I could take to contemplate my business, my life, and everything.
And there was a lot to think about. My roots were in Chicago, as was my business, but lately I felt like I needed a change…
“Mr. Hayes?” a woman on the other end said, bringing me back to reality. It was a new voice – I guessed I was now speaking to the head manager, or whoever was in charge of that shitty showroom. “My name is…”
I cleared my throat, loudly interrupting the woman. I had calmed down some, and was able to speak, respectfully, yet firmly.
I said, “Let me tell you something. I trust you’re well aware of who I am, and by now I hope to God you understand what I’m asking of you. Please, don’t waste any more of my very valuable time today. I need this done as we agreed, by Monday. I don’t care what’s stopping you. Contact my assistant if you need any help.”
I ended the call, tossing the phone on the couch in the middle of the office. Normally, I wouldn’t have cared to speak to some low-tier manager, but the last couple of days made me want to find any excuse not to speak to the law firm. Business had been great, but every once in a while, certain government agencies would set out on a witch-hunt, and I would have to find and navigate certain backroads.
The speaker phone on my desk came to life: “Mr. Hayes?”
“Here, Monica,” I called, still standing inches from the window.
“Lucas Baxter is on line three. Says you have to talk to him. Says it’s important.”
“Have I ever had unimportant calls?” I smirked. “Tell him I’ll be with him in five.”
“Got it.”
There wasn’t anything for me to do in these five minutes, but I had to make my lawyer, Baxter wait. After four minutes had passed, I made my way to the desk in three strides and pressed a button.
“Hayes.”
“Where have you been all day?”
“I’m away on business, Baxter, you know that.” A lie, but a decent one.
“Good answer. Look, I’ve sent over some papers for you to look at, possible answers to this problems of ours. And I know I’ve told you this already, but you need to meet with the District Attorney.”
“Lucas, let me cut you off here. We’ve talked about it, yes, and my answer remains the same. Tell him I’ll be in Brussels until September, and after that he can catch me in Osaka.”
“You’re always somewhere…” Baxter said. “Look, okay, I’ll get it done.”
“You better.”
I ended the call and walked back to the windows.
God damn that District Attorney, always looking into my business when I didn’t fucking need it. He’d have the IRS on my ass soon enough.
I thought about calling him, getting it over with.
But no, not yet. I had to take some time off and regroup. I knew it was a crappy strategy – innocent businessmen don’t find excuses not to prove their innocence. Or, rather, not to negotiate it, at least. There was a temptation to really leave the country. Lie low somewhere in China.
“Mr. Hayes?” Monica called. She was standing at my door. Monica was five years older than me, but looked five years younger. She was a looker, and crazy smart, but she might have been the only woman in the world who wasn’t interested in me. She’d been married for the better part of her life, since college, and perfectly happy. Unlike all the other women I’d ever known, she had no interest in my money. Ironically, I had no interest in her.
“Mr. Hayes? Where are you?”
“Just… thinking.”
“Oh, now you’re thinking!”
“Hey, watch it. What did you want?”
Monica widened her eyes and pursed her lips, gesturing at my phon
e. There was only one man she would bother to announce in person.
I cocked my head, feeling annoyed already. “What does he want?”
She made a face. “No idea honestly, but you better take it.”
“Thank you, Monica.”
I stared up at the ceiling. Mother fucker. What a day. Lazily, I walked over to the couch and grabbed the phone. There was a missed call.
Fucking Lawson. He was my friend, but a shitty one at that. I viewed Lawson as my mentor, in a sense, always learning from his mistakes that he so often found himself in. How he got away with half the shit he did I would never fully understand. He had somehow successfully managed to find millions of dollars’ worth of loopholes in his company’s taxes. When the government came to question him, he was a cocky idiot which only made them investigate into his business more. I tried to tell him to quit acting like a kid but he never listened to me. He always said that he knew people that could get him out of things, and he would use that to his advantage. I never fully believed him until I watched his problem with the government slowly disappear.
If there was one other thing I had learned over the years through Lawson, it was diplomacy. You never knew when you might need someone’s help, and staying on good terms with everyone was only smart.
I picked up the phone and redialed, mentally preparing myself for whatever trouble he had found himself in again.
Lawson picked up after the first ring. “Owen, my friend! Happy you returned the call! I wasn’t expecting it, frankly! How have you been?”
“You read the news. Hayes Inc. is stronger than ever,” I lied.
“Congratulations, buddy! I knew you would pull through!”
“Of course we did.” I clutched the elbow rest.
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