Stryker

by Lexi Buchanan

  I just wished my life was so much simpler. No private education, no family money, no mother wanting her daughter married off to supply her with grandchildren. My biggest wish as a child had always been for my dad to work a nine to five job and be home in the evenings and on the weekends. I would have traded all the wealth and privilege I’d had as a child for my dad.

  My wishes never came true.

  “Bunch of assholes.”

  Momentarily startled, a grin spread slowly across my face at the sound of my best friend’s voice in my ear.

  Spinning around, I wrapped her up in a hug. It was the first time I’d seen her in three weeks, and that was three weeks too long. She was the only person alive who understood me, and made me smile these days.

  Millie was a few inches shorter than me with ash-blonde hair clustered into short curls around a heart-shaped face. Her hourglass figure with a slim waist and curvy hips usually had guys drooling.

  “What are you doing here?” I placed my unwanted drink on a table, ignoring the glances from Patrick’s friends. They could think what they wanted, which they’d do anyway.

  “Thought I’d rescue you now that I’m back in town.” She grinned.

  I took hold of Millie’s hand and dragged her with me to the back of the bar as a sigh hovered on my lips. The wine bar was a favorite with lawyers and businessmen—a place where they could do business and spend company money on entertaining.

  It might make it into one of my books, but that was about it. A small bar across town had my heart. The floor plan was tiny and, on weekends, there was hardly any room to move let alone breathe as the music blared through the place. But the food was amazing, and unexpected for a hole in the wall place. To me it was the best place in the world. The one place I felt at home whenever I visited. Julio, the owner, was always welcoming and had a ready smile for anyone who stepped through the doors.

  I often spend the afternoon there with my laptop in front of me while I worked away on my next novel.

  If only I had the courage to put my writing out there. It just got tiring being me all the time—the senator’s daughter; prim and always smiling for the camera…always pretending to be perfectly put together. The truth was I had a wild streak deep inside and it was fighting to break free.

  I glanced back at Patrick and frowned. He kept me controlled to a certain degree and I allowed it. It was easier. But he’d changed. He wasn’t the carefree guy I’d started dating. He’d become more serious and since he started wearing suits for work, he’d acted differently toward his outlook, and me.

  I felt like I was drowning, and sinking deeper into a life I didn’t want. I wanted to be free to enjoy the things I liked instead of the things he liked—wanted to be free to pursue my passions instead of presenting the front of perfect daughter for my dad’s constituents. It wasn’t only that because in the beginning Patrick had been charming and we’d had a satisfying relationship, although he hadn’t touched me that often. But now, it felt more like a chore for him, and I guess that was how I felt. Like I was with him, he was my fiancée so he had the right to want me the way he did, and when.

  I shouldn’t feel like that.

  “You need to pay attention,” Millie snapped her fingers in front of my face, an angry frown on hers. “We need to do something to get you out of this whole engagement farce.”

  I blinked a few times, and watched my friend as she waved her hands around in front of my face. It was too loud to catch what she went on about, but I could guess.

  Millie had never liked Patrick and thought he was only looking for a way in with my father. Their feelings were mutual though because Patrick couldn’t stand Millie. She found him too controlling, and he found her too clingy. He’d tried to end our friendship a few times and strangely, he’d sounded a lot like my mother as he went on about family connections and public image. But I’d ignored him. Millie was the sister I’d never had, and it would be a cold day in hell when I gave her up for anyone.

  “Thank fuck.” Millie let out an exaggerated loud sigh when the music finished. “My ears hurt.”

  “Do you want to leave?”

  She looked stunned for a moment and then grinned. Taking my hand, she dragged me down the hall at the back, and didn’t stop until we were outside, down the back alley, and on the sidewalk haling a cab.

  “Where are we going?” I stumbled into the cab when she shoved me on the ass. I landed sprawled on the seat as she fell on top of me, giving the driver an address.

  He shot off while we untangled our limbs. “What was that about? We’re not five anymore.”

  “I didn’t want us to be seen.” Millie straightened her top before she flashed a boob.

  “Okay.”

  “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “Did what?” As far as I was aware, I hadn’t done anything other than leave in a cab with her without letting anyone know.

  Crap!

  Trouble was going to stem from this.

  I quickly grabbed my cell and shot Patrick a text that I’d call him tomorrow.

  Steam would probably come out of his ears when he read my message. So I turned my cell on to vibrate and shoved it to the bottom of my purse. The last thing I wanted was for him to ruin my evening with Millie.

  “You free now?”

  “For a while.” I smiled and felt like a heavy burden had lifted from my chest. “I’m so glad you found me tonight. A surprise, but an amazing one.”

  “No way was I going to stay out of town when it’s our twentieth anniversary of the first time we met.” She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m worried about you, which is why I wanted you to myself.”

  I raised a brow.

  “Okay,” she grinned, “perhaps I always want you to myself, but seriously, this time is different.”

  As we passed through town, I glanced at her. “Where are we going?”

  “My new place. No one has the address.”

  “Oh.” I liked that idea. In fact, I loved that idea. “So no one is likely to come knocking for me.”

  “Exactly.” She grinned and was probably delighted with herself.

  “Millie,” I started, “you didn’t move because of me, did you?”

  “My lease was up and, instead of renewing, I found somewhere else. I think that I did good keeping it to myself.”

  I chuckled. “You did.”

  Millie wasn’t known for her patience, and usually couldn’t keep something to herself for long unless it had something to do with me. In that regard, she always kept her lips sealed.

  “Come on. We’re here.” Millie took my arm and pulled me from the cab after she’d paid the fare. She was practically dancing in excitement. “I can’t wait for you to see my new place. Best decision I’ve made in a long time.”

  Five minutes later, I stood at the floor to ceiling window of Millie’s new apartment. She was on the nineteenth floor and the view over Central Park was stunning. I hadn’t realized we were so close to the park because my head had been elsewhere but the apartment was worth it just for the location alone.

  The lights around the park shone brightly, and looking down there was a large brass band that was obviously playing as people walked by. I’d love to be down there listening, and then afterwards a hot chocolate with whipped cream, or even to sip the drink while listening.

  My mouth watered and I longed for that. Patrick wouldn’t be able to stand still long enough to enjoy and appreciate any of it though.

  Would Stryker?

  “About this research that you want to do,” Millie started, “I think you need a sidekick.”

  I turned and faced her, forcing my longing to the back of my mind—something that I was used to doing.

  Millie sprawled on one of her black leather sofas, her shoes kicked off and her blue eyes on me.

  “I wasn’t planning on going without you. I’m too shy to go into a gym alone,” I admitted. “But I do need to tell you about tonight.” Her brow rose, her cu
riosity piqued.

  The last email we’d exchanged, I’d mentioned about needing to do some research around the Club for my next book. The idea had indirectly come from Patrick who thought my writing was a waste of time. His family owned the gym for the New York-East Coast Martial Arts Fighters Club. No bystanders allowed. Current or future fighters only. From what I’d heard, it was tough to get picked to be part of the team.

  I’d never been to the gym or to a fight before tonight, and all that was changing.

  I chewed on my lip and dropped down at the side of Millie’s hip. “I went to a fight tonight with Patrick…and my heart stopped.” I shook my head and gazed out of the window. “I’m not sure how I know this but he noticed me…the fighter that is. But only after I’d noticed him.” I turned back to Millie and grabbed her hands. “Just one look had me aching, but something about him made me want to wrap my arms around him and never let go.”

  Millie stared at me, surprise clear in her eyes. “Um, wow.”

  “Just wow?”

  “I’m not sure what to say. I don’t remember you ever reacting to a man like that before.”

  “I know. I’m going to research him when I get home. Maybe have him as the main character in my book.” I inhaled and went for it. “Once I have my story written, will you read it?”

  She screamed. “Oh my God! You’re seriously going to let me read your book?” She jumped up and tugged me into her arms. “Really? Promise me.”

  I grinned at her enthusiasm. “It won’t be easy for me, but yes. I want you to be the first one to read it but there is a condition to you reading it.”

  “Figures.” She continued to grin.

  “You have to give me honest feedback. No, this is really good, awesome, fabulous. I want the truth regardless of what that is. I love you Millie, and that won’t change if you hate my book. But you have to be honest because you won’t help me as a writer if you’re not.”

  “I hear you.” She jumped up and danced in front of me. “This calls for a celebration.”

  I laughed, warm happiness spreading through my body and I realized it was the first time I’d felt it in a long time. “I love you, Millie.”

  She stopped her dancing, her smile slipped as she really looked at me. Dropping to her knees, she took my hands into hers and held tight. “You’re scaring me.”

  I shook my head. “There’s nothing wrong,” I paused, “well, nothing out of the normal for me. I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate you.”

  “Oh, Evie. You’re my best friend. I’d be lost without you.” Clambering back to her feet, she smiled. “Now, let’s get rid of all the gloom and think about all those huge, sweaty men that we’re going to meet at the gym…maybe your fighter will be there. Oh, we need wine for this.”

  She ran off to the kitchen while I thought about the fighters at the gym. I’d done as much research as I could from the internet and would probably recognize some of the fighters if we came across them. They all looked frightening to me with their height and strength, which gave me second thoughts about researching them…at least, until Patrick had arrived in a foul mood. He’d been pissed about something and he’d taken his frustration out on me with his verbal nit picking at everything I should and shouldn’t do. I’d then decided that I’d go for it and no more hiding behind my laptop too scared to put my work out there.

  In the past I’d taken more knocks than I should have for my twenty-two years. People could be evil, which was why I’d held off from opening myself up to even more criticism.

  This time, however, I was more determined than ever to do something with my life.

  Chapter 2 ~ Stryker

  “BEAUTY SLEEPS OVER,” THE man whose voice grated on my nerves hollered.

  The loud voice didn’t shock me, and when I crashed last night after the fight, my dreams were teased by my red-haired, emerald-eyed woman. I’d imagined her touch on my skin, with my hands tangled in the glorious red locks of hair that I’d caught a glimpse of as she’d left. Just the image left me rock hard and uncomfortable as I lay unsatisfied on my stomach.

  I knew that he’d visit me today because I’d disappeared for two hours last night. The men who watched me were lax and gave me a bit of freedom, and usually management wouldn’t find out. But I guess disappearing right after a fight I was supposed to throw wasn’t the wisest thing I’d done.

  I never reacted to him. Honestly, I’d only ever spoken to the ass once or twice, but I stayed silent as I watched him from between my narrowed lids. I did this because I knew my silence unnerved him, and the others. They liked to act tough, but I made them nervous and after the shit I’d put up with from the lot of them over the years, I relished the fear they had whenever I met their gaze head on.

  It was Sunday, which meant no training, although, I usually ignored the day of rest everyone else seemed to abide by and clocked hours at the gym. Except today, I’d probably shock the lot of them when I refused to budge. I was going to have the day to myself at my apartment. I wasn’t going to do anything but lounge around and read, and think of her.

  There was no television or internet in the apartment. I didn’t own a cell, and only had a landline for incoming calls. It was a quiet existence, except for my life in the gym.

  I gladly accepted it.

  A glance through one eye toward the window told me it was a beautiful day in New York, which meant I could sit outside—my one luxury.

  They spied on me from room to room except the bathroom and bedroom—the only two rooms without a way to the outside.

  The living room had large floor to ceiling sliding glass doors, a large patio on the opposite side, which was my sanctuary. The access to outside and the view were two of the reasons I wanted it. The apartment could have been a hovel and I’d have insisted they bought it.

  If I wanted to risk my life, then I could try and leap over to the balcony across and to the left. Chances were that I’d miss because it was just a bit too far over, even with dropping a floor. They still had a camera out here though.

  The invasion of privacy was more irritating than annoying. I didn’t really have any privacy to hide, and what I did need privacy for, I took care of in the shower. I wasn’t exactly used to the invasion but I could ignore the cameras most of the time…life was what it was.

  I rolled over to my back, now that the tension at my hips had deflated, and gazed up at the white ceiling while I kept him in my line of sight. He was new to the show. I hadn’t yet figured out his position within the organization but I would. I always did.

  “When you’re done ignoring me,” the asshole loomed over me from the side of the bed, “I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Training?” That’s all everyone wanted to talk about…training or the fight. I wasn’t going to be the first one to mention that I’d ignored them last night because I’d won.

  “No.” He appeared pissed as he turned abruptly and walked out of my bedroom.

  I rose up on my elbows to see if he was still there or if he’d headed out.

  “I’m waiting.”

  Fuck! I wasn’t so lucky.

  Why couldn’t the fucker go and annoy someone else.

  I kicked off the cover and strolled to the bathroom. While I took a leak, I glanced at myself in the mirror. I did that every morning and I didn’t know why. I didn’t pay attention to my features, which had changed a lot over the years. At one time, I looked like my father, but that soon passed. I’d grown harder, tougher than him and sometimes, if I looked hard enough, I could see some part of him in my eyes or the slash of my mouth but then it would be gone…I was not my father.

  Outside of those few short seconds, my father wasn’t someone I thought about, at least, I tried not to. He would pop into my head when I least expected him to.

  I’d never been able to accept that he willing handed me over to them. I just couldn’t comprehend how he could do that. He said he loved me, but that had been a lie. You didn’t willing do what h
e did. I never would, and a lot of people out there wouldn’t either. It was just my fucking luck to be born to one of the low percentage of people who didn’t give a damn.

  Yanking my sweats up, I headed into my living room and straight to the kitchen. I pulled out a carton of milk, and drank straight from the carton.

  Once I’d drunk a liter, I swiped my hand across my mouth and turned to face the stressed out figure of the man.

  When he realized my attention was on him, he stopped his pacing and glared, his hand running through his hair.

  This was the first time I’d seen him rattled.

  “What’s going on?”

  “The boss knew you wouldn’t throw the fight…you won him a lot.” He smirked, and ran his hands through his hair.

  Had that been some sort of test? I wouldn’t know unless they decided to tell me.

  “Fuck,” he cursed. “I need you to be on your best behavior at the gym during the week.”

  I snarled. Was he serious? “I’m not five.”

  He ignored me. “I’ve arranged for my fiancée and her friend to have access to the gym. Research.” He turned and looked out of the window before he met my gaze again. “She thinks she can write, and wants to write a fictional novel surrounding the Club. She can’t write and I don’t want her around you guys, but it’s our wedding in only a few weeks so I want to keep her happy until that’s over with.”

  I snickered to annoy him.

  His eyes met mine and narrowed.

  “You,” he pointed his finger, “will not look at her, talk to her, or go near her. She’s completely off limits. She’s been told to stay away from the fighters, only to observe, especially you, you piece of shit.”

  My eyes narrowed as I watched him. He thought I wouldn’t hit him because he had something to do with the boss, but he was wrong. I knew that he wasn’t at the top so breaking his nose wouldn’t hurt me. But it would make me feel a lot better.

  He slowly made his way to the front door as I tracked him. He sweated beneath his suit and knew he had seconds before the venom of Stryker was unleashed on him.