Hard Rider (A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance)

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Hard Rider (A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance) Page 132

by Wild, Nikki


  Instead, I just got in my car and drove away.

  Troy

  Blake circled to his left and faked a takedown attempt. I stayed light on my feet and moved with him. He threw a punch and I slipped it just in time to land a right hand of my own to his body. “Ooof,” he wheezed. The air went out of his lungs the same way a balloon deflates.

  He doubled over to catch his breath and I wrapped an arm around his back to steady him. “You okay, big guy?”

  “That was a hell of a shot, Troy. Remember, we’re on the same team, okay?”

  “I know man, I’m sorry. I think I’m just a little wound up from last night.”

  “Oh yeah,” he said through a grimace. He’d straightened up now but he still was holding his hand over his ribs. “Was it a girl, or a bad night at the bar?”

  “Girl,” I whispered. “She’s got a rare ability to fuck with my head.”

  “I thought that might be the case. Okay, I’m good. Let’s go again.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, c’mon, just remember we’re not in here fighting for the belt. It’s just a sparring session.”

  Blake got back in his stance and I assumed mine. He was the best guy in the gym outside of myself, but he just wasn’t on the same level. I craved stiffer competition, but this was my home gym—it was where I learned the sport—and I couldn’t force myself to train anywhere else.

  As I danced in and out, I caught Blake with a few sharp jabs. He gamely shook them off and kept coming forward. I hit like a Mack truck, but the real problem for my opponents was they just couldn’t keep up. I was too fast; too slick.

  “That all you got Motherfucker?” he said over his mouthpiece. Blake loved to talk shit even though he knew it would cost him when he sparred with me. He just couldn’t help himself.

  “Are you for real?” I laughed as he threw a looping left hand that I easily ducked. “You were just telling me to ease up, and now you’re asking for more?”

  I took two shuffle steps to the right and then bounced back left. He swung and hit nothing but air.

  “You heard me,” he challenged. “That first shot just woke me up. It got me in the mood for more.”

  “You might be nuts,” I said, pumping three more jabs and a right cross that clanked off his forehead, “but I’m gonna give you what you want.”

  “Give me your best shot. I may not be the most talented guy out there, but I got heart.”

  “There’s nobody on the planet who is gonna give you an argument of that. You can hang in there with the best of ‘em.”

  As we circled each other, I noticed Ray and Larry Donoway talking to a man in a suit who I’d never seen before. They all seemed to be watching my sparring session with Blake intently. Larry owned the gym, and though he didn’t come by often, I’d never know him to have much patience for a guy in a monkey suit.

  “Who the hell is that guy?” I asked Blake as he shot in for another unsuccessful takedown attempt.

  “Beats me,” he said, scrambling back to his feet. “I saw him wandering around the locker room before you came in. I think him and Ray were talking about you.”

  Blake threw a left that caught me by surprise and clipped the end of my nose. It stung like crazy and made my eyes tear up. “That one landed, didn’t it?” he barked.

  “Only because you distracted me.”

  “You gotta be ready for distractions if you’re gonna make it big, Troy.”

  “Don’t tell me anything, Blake.” I smiled and made him pay for his disrespect with a three-punch combination that sent him tumbling into the wall.

  “Okay, okay, we’re done,” he yelled, waving me off and spitting out his mouth piece. “You’re a mean bastard when you wanna be,” he whined.

  “And you’re just confused,” I laughed again. “Sooner or later you’re gonna learn your lesson Blakey.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Who’s gonna stop me?”

  He yanked his glove off his hand to reveal an extended middle finger and then threw it at me. I leaned back and let it fly past my face. “Can’t even hit me with that, can you?”

  “Get outta here, Golden Boy. I think the suit over there wants to meet you. Better go see what he wants.”

  I reluctantly took Blake’s advice and hoisted myself over the cage’s wall to the other side. Larry, my trainer, and the unknown man eagerly hurried over to me.

  “Troy, come over here young man,” Ray said in his slow, ambling way. “This is Mr. Gold, he’d like to meet you.”

  I looked to Larry for further explanation. “Mr. Gold is a promoter for the M.W.F.C. He’s in the area scouting talent this afternoon.”

  The Mid-Western Fighting Championship was the largest regional promotion in the country. Many of the guys who made it to the top first went through regional circuits like the M.W.F.C., in fact, the current champion of the world in my division was an alum.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Gold,” I said, sticking out my gloved hand. He took it and shook it heartily.

  “Please, call me Dave, and I have to say, you’re one hell of a fighter Troy. I’ve been talking to your training partners and the staff here all afternoon and they all say you’re the best guy in the gym. After watching that little sparring session, I have to say, you have a legitimate talent, son.”

  He was a heavyset man with a puffy face and cheeks that rivaled Santa Claus’s. When he spoke, he seemed on the verge of passing out. That didn’t quell his excitement, though. He punctuated every sentence by flopping around the thin wisps of blonde hair still left on his head.

  “That’s an honor to hear, Sir,” I said humbly. “There are a lot of great fighters at this gym and I’m proud to be a part of the team.”

  “That’s very good-”

  “But you’re right.”

  “Excuse me, son?” His hair seemed to hang suspended in mid-toss.

  “I said, you’re right about me being the best. I’m not just the best here, though. Go up north, or down to Texas and you won’t find a fighter with the same skill set as me. There’s nobody in ten states who can compete with me right now.”

  Larry and Ray tightened up, but I remained relaxed.

  “Is that so?”

  “You’re damn right it is. And I challenge you to prove me wrong.”

  He seemed to ponder this for a minute. “Well, hell, that’s good to hear. Most guys just tell me about how lucky they are to have the chance, but I like hearing from a confident fighter. All the great ones had that trait.”

  I nodded.

  “Shit, well, I was gonna schedule a trip back here for your next amateur fight but I think I’ve already seen enough. Whaddaya say I get a contract drawn up and you start fighting in the M.W.F.C.? I can have you in the cage on your way to your first paycheck in a few short months.”

  Mr. Gold waited intently on my answer. Larry and Ray were only a little further away from the edges of their seats. I thought about the time I’d spent here and how many hours I’d put into training. Signing a contract like this would be a huge step toward the dream.

  “Would I still be able to train here?”

  “Absolutely. Of course, we’d want to get a couple of coaches in here to help you work on other aspects of game, but, yes, you could stay right here at your home gym.”

  Larry nodded his reassurance. “Ray and I have already discussed this with Mr. Gold. It would be a boon to the gym as well. When everyone sees that a fighter from here has signed with the M.W.F.C., they’ll want to come train with us.”

  “It’s a good thing,” said Gold. “It will raise the talent level across the board and bring in better fighters for you to test yourself against.” He wiped the back of his hand against his sweaty forehead. “If that’s not enough for ya, we hold our biggest annual show right here in Chicago. You’d be fighting in front of the hometown crowd.”

  This all came out of left field, but I was ready for it. I deserved it. So did my trainer and all the other guys. If it
could bring all of them even a little bit of exposure, then it was worth it.

  You could hear a pin drop. The other fighters had stopped their drills or given up their assault on the heavy bag. Every eye in the place was on me, waiting for an answer with bated breath.

  “Draw up the contract.”

  Riley

  “I can’t believe I let this happen.”

  My workspace was even messier than usual and I hadn’t been able to get a thing accomplished all week long.

  “Calm down,” Casey said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Stuff like that happens when two hot people get together.”

  “What?” I yelled. “That is never supposed to happen. We have to maintain the utmost professionalism when we’re with a client. What was I thinking?!”

  “I know you’re upset,” she said, glancing at the door. “Try to lower you voice a little bit. You’re freaking out on me.”

  “Shoot. Am I being too loud?”

  “A little.”

  I tried to take the pitch out of my voice. “Casey, you don’t understand, I went to his apartment and things got… sexual.”

  She slipped around the end of my desk and sat down on top of it. She was all ears. “You said you guys didn’t go that far.”

  “We didn’t! I mean, we touched, and the situation definitely got hot, but we didn’t go all the way or anything.”

  Her face twisted. Somehow, she looked both disappointed and encouraged. “Then, what’s the problem? If the two of you didn’t do anything I don’t see what you’re getting so worked up over.”

  “You don’t get it! There is zero tolerance for any kind of fraternizing with the clients. I broke pretty much every rule in the book.”

  “Well, not every rule,” she said.

  “Plus, I barely know this guy. He was just recently released from jail, for God’s sake. I need to get my head examined.”

  “That part is kind of sexy though, isn’t it?” she was twirling a strand of hair around her fingers.

  “What part?”

  “Mmm, the jail thing. He’s a bad boy and he has all that pent-up energy that I bet he can’t wait to release on some lucky girl.”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” I said. “I can’t risk my career because I was stupid enough to let things go a little too far one time. I have to tell him that it was a mistake.”

  “You said he was a cage fighter too, right?” she asked, completely ignoring my rationale.

  “So…?”

  “So, my brother used to want to be a fighter. He even trained at a gym in our old neighborhood. He doesn’t any more, but I remember when I had to pick him up after practice there were all these shredded guys leaving the parking lot at the same time he did.”

  “That’s not-”

  “I remember the way they used to come streaming through the doors. Some of them were fresh from the shower, with the hair still wet and their skin pink. Others had little scrapes and bruises that looked just right on them. I used to get so wet just watching-”

  “Casey!”

  “What?” she giggled. “It’s not like it’s any secret that those guys are hot. They work hard to get those lean bodies. We should appreciate them.”

  “I should have known to talk to someone else about this,” I laughed. “You get so wound up that you can’t see the forest for the trees.”

  “And you’re always so worried about the big picture,” she said. “What’s the worst that could happen? You obviously like this guy, so why not pursue it? Live a little, take a chance.”

  I pushed my feet into the floor and spun in the chair. My office whirled around me.

  Window. Wall. Casey’s pouting expression. Plant. Window. Wall. Casey’s pouting expression. Plant.

  “The worst that could happen?” I asked, my chair losing steam and settling on a turn toward the window. “The worst that could happen is someone could see us together and then I lose all credibility in my field. I become the office joke, and eventually I’m fired for unbecoming behavior. This is a little more severe than smoking a cigarette in front of the building.”

  “Then, own it,” she said. “He only has, what, one more meeting and then he’s out of the program? All you have to do is keep your pants on until he graduates and then the two of you can get together and hump like rabbits.”

  I’d just taken a sip of water when she spouted that last line and it made me choke with laughter. My eyes teared up as I coughed in sputtering bursts. “Stop it! You’re killing me.”

  “I’m serious. Wait until he’s out, and then you won’t be breaking any rules. You could use a stud like him.”

  “You don’t even know him.”

  “I know enough.”

  “Anyway, that’s not how it works. Technically, it won’t be breaking the rules, but people talk. It will reflect poorly and that will still cause a problem.”

  Casey slid off the edge of my desk and tugged me up by my wrists. I didn’t feel like standing, but I got to my feet anyway. “Do it,” she said, looking me right in the eyes.

  “You’re a relentless cheerleader,” I said, “and a good friend, but I can’t. I’m going to go see Troy as soon as possible so I can clear the air. The quicker we can nip this in the bud, the easier it will be.

  She heaved her shoulders and sighed loudly in an exaggerated protest. “If that’s what you think is best, I’m with you.”

  “It is for the best. It’s good to have you on my side,” I winked.

  This could never happen again. Now, if I could only convince myself…

  Troy

  My throat was as dry as the desert. I tossed the blankets off me and rolled to my side. The alarm clock’s squared digital numbers glowed a deep red. It was just after three in the morning.

  Though still foggy, the first place my mind went was to Riley. She could have been in my dreams, too. The lines between sleep and reality were still blurred. I wondered what her bedroom looked like. I imagined that she wrapped herself in silk sheets and slept on the best mattress money could buy. There was no doubt whatever she slept on made my squeaky queen-sized look like trash.

  I needed something to drink. If I didn’t get some water, my larynx was threatening to dry up and teach me a valuable lesson. The thin carpeting on the floor didn’t offer much cushion and the air in the room tasted cold. I’d forgotten to switch on the heater again. I supposed that a girl like Riley wouldn’t care much for sleeping in an ice cave.

  Searching for the hallway light switch was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. I still wasn’t completely familiar with the layout of everything and the total darkness didn’t do me any favors.

  Something moved in the corner of my vision just as my fingers found purchase on the switch. The room lit up like Christmas and I saw a man running at me. I only had enough time to shield my ribs before he crashed into me.

  The two of us fell into the wall and made a massive dent. I scrambled for position as he punched weakly at my body. The thing about being a fighter is that you can tell right away when someone doesn’t know what they’re doing. The man probably outweighed me by a hundred pounds, but his attack was undisciplined. He flailed wildly, giving plenty of opportunity for me to get where I wanted to be.

  I maneuvered to take his back before he had a clue what was happening to him. When he swung his head toward me, I slipped my arm under his neck and sunk in the chokehold. He went to sleep almost immediately.

  Still trying to get my bearings, I couldn’t figure out how someone had gotten into my house without me knowing it. Maybe that’s what woke me up in the first place.

  That’s when I saw the boot coming at me. I ducked, but it glanced off my shoulder and landed on the top of my head. Everything went sideways and I had to let go of the first guy.

  What the fuck was happening?

  “Hey, hey! Everybody settle down! Back off!”

  The voice was strong with a bit of an accent. Right away, I knew it was Ortiz.

  “We need
this guy. No reason to bust him up.”

  I rolled to my back and looked up at the gorilla who’d kicked me. He was standing over me sneering. All I could think in that moment was that his teeth looked like popcorn kernels. The other guy was slowing coming to next to me on the floor.

  “What is this?” I wheezed as I tried to shake the cobwebs out of my head.

  “Get him up. Put him over there on the couch.”

  The big guy hauled me to my feet and threw me across the cushions. I shielded my eyes from the glare of the light. “What the hell is going on?”

  Ortiz smiled like a jackal. “Long time, no see Mr. Eason. I hope you didn’t forget about us.”

  “Forget about what?” I kicked away from his thug and sat up straight. “How I ended up in jail for almost a year because of you guys?”

  “That’s not exactly fair, is it?” He was turning his cell phone over and over in his hands. “I’m sure you were well aware of the risks when you agreed to do it. You certainly never had a problem taking my money.”

  I propped my elbows on my knees and pushed my fingers through my hair. “That was a while ago, so what’s this all about? I don’t remember inviting you guys for a sleepover.” I really needed that glass of water.

  “That is the truth,” he said, pausing for effect in the space between each word. “But you haven’t been answering any of our attempts to get in touch. Eddie told me he’s tried you several times—call and text. He’s not lying, is he?”

  “Been busy,” I said. “So, what the fuck do you want?”

  Ortiz seemed to consider this for a moment. “Busy…” he said, slowly. “Are you sure you haven’t been avoiding us?”

  “Avoiding what? My business with you people is done. I did my job, took my punishment like a man, and now I’m moving on. I’m not interested in doing any more work.”

  He stood and shoved his coat open with his elbows. His hands rested on his hips and I saw the handle of a pistol sticking out of his khakis. “You may not be interested in it,” he said. “But it is interested in you.”

 

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