Silver and Chrome: A Bad Boy MC Romance

by St. Clair, Aubrey

  "That's right," his father sneered. "You think you've made a difference in this life, boy? You haven't and you never will. I wish we'd never even had you. What a fucking mistake that was. God damn the number of times I think about if I had only just fucking jerked off into a tissue one more time you'd have been flushed down the toilet."

  Joel let out a scream and swung his fist, catching his father in the nose and sending him reeling back. His mother yelled and rushed forward. "Get out!" she screamed. "Just go!"

  Staggering back, the young man turned and yanked open the door to his house for the last time. The night was cold and rain was coming down in sheets. His light red hoodie wouldn't protect him at all, and he had no idea where to go. His heart was pounding in his chest as he ran down the pathway leading away from his house, already drenched. What was he going to do now?

  The rain pounded into Joel but his mind was somewhere else, and he didn't even notice Brutus charging at him again until it was too late. He spun to get out of the way, but the big man caught him in one of his beefy arms and pulled him along, slamming him roughly into the brick wall of the building behind him. His head snapped back and he heard and felt it crack against the stone. Immediate warmth on his neck told him it was bleeding badly.

  He blinked as the air around him grew darker and it was only instinct that made him bring up his hands to protect his face an instant before he felt Brutus' fists crash into them. He could hear yelling and screaming, but all he could think about was that he hoped that it wasn't coming from him.

  It's the crowd. People are watching. They're paying to watch you fight. Watch you win. Don't get paid to lose.

  He shook his head to clear it even as blows continued to rain down on him. He realized suddenly he was on his knees, so he caught one of the arms of his opponent the next time he was hit and used it to yank himself back up to his feet, while at the same time pulling the big man off balance in surprise.

  Joel stood up and threw a punch in the area where he thought Brutus stood, but still not seeing straight, it just went wildly past the other man and connected with nothing. The crowd around him cheered again but he had no idea what for.

  All of a sudden he felt a big thick forearm wrap around his neck and slip against the wetness on his face to settle under his chin. Fuck.

  Chapter Eight

  Amber

  Amber watched in horror as Brutus held tightly around Joel's neck as the blond struggled briefly, and then went limp. The crowd was going crazy, and the man standing next to her was cursing wildly.

  Brutus held on for a few more moments and then let go. She watched with wide eyes as Joel slipped out from his grasp and crumpled lifelessly down onto the pavement below. The winner raised his arms and let out a howl, almost like a wolf, and then walked into the crowd surrounding the fighters. Everyone was patting him on the back.

  "Well, that's that then, time to finally get out of this rain. That's the last time I bet on the underdog," the man next to her said.

  "What now," she asked. "Are they going to make sure that he's okay?"

  "Who knows, who cares," the man said, turning around and starting to walk out of the alley along with many of the other spectators. "He's a loser now, no one remembers the losers."

  Amber looked back at the body of Joel, still lying on the pavement. She could see that he was breathing, though, but still covered in some of the mud that the rain hadn't yet washed away. She was soaking wet as well, but barely aware of it.

  No one was paying any attention to the fallen fighter, including the big black man she had seen him speaking to last night. He was too busy with his arm around Brutus, laughing and talking as if the two had just come home from watching their team win a football game.

  She quickly scurried over to the fallen man and bent down, hesitantly reaching out and touching his shoulder. As she did, the lights from the car in the alley turned off and she was plunged into a heavier darkness. Joel didn't move, so she poked his soggy arm a bit harder. "Joel? Are you okay?"

  Finally he started to stir. He cracked an eye open, and then another. He seemed confused and then shook his head a bit as he pulled his arms down and back underneath himself to prop up on his elbows. "What the hell..."

  "You were choked unconscious," she said.

  He stared dully at her for a moment, letting the words sink in until they found meaning in his addled brain. "Shit. I lost?"

  She just nodded. Typical man to think about whether he won or not as he lay injured on the ground.

  "Who are you?"

  "No one," she said. "I mean, I was just watching... my name is Amber. Amber Sinclair."

  "What the fuck do you want, Amber Sinclair," he said. He was struggling to sit up now but just as he did he swayed and put out a hand to brace himself on the ground so that he didn't fall back down. Amber instinctively reached out and grabbed him under the arm to help. He glared down at her hand.

  "I'm just trying to help," she said. "You seemed to need it. No one else was going to." She looked around and noticed that they were one of the last two in the alleyway; almost everyone else had left in a hurry to get out of the rain.

  "I can do just fine on my own," he said, his voice hard. He pulled his arm away from her.

  "Wow, okay. Suit yourself," she said. That's what you get for being nice in this city. Mind your business. Her mother's voice was yapping in her ear again. She hated when it did that, especially when it was right.

  She stepped back to give Joel some room. He was rude, but not really surprising given what he did with his spare time. How many fighters did she think were gentlemen, anyway?

  He pushed himself to his feet and then swayed again. This time he didn't have the ground to reach out for and his arms swung wildly. Amber again instinctively reached out to help him, something she had gotten used to doing around closing time at her bar every weekend. This time Joel's hands clamped down on her arm as well as he accepted her help.

  "I think you need a doctor," she said.

  "Nothing's broken," he replied.

  "You hit your head pretty hard. I think it's still bleeding." From the angle he was standing, she could see a trail of darkness moving down his back. She had thought it was mud at first, given the lack of light, but now she wasn't so sure.

  "It'll heal."

  "You really ought to get that looked at."

  "I'm not paying some doctor to tell me to man up and take an Advil."

  "What if you need stitches?"

  "Stitches are just to make a scar look pretty. It's at the back of my head under my hair. What the fuck do I care what it looks like."

  "Oh," she said. She was still holding his arm and by the way he was grasping onto her, he still felt like he needed it.

  "You've never had stitches, have you?" he asked.

  "No."

  "Well aren't you living a charmed life," he said.

  "Not everyone chooses to beat the shit out of people in alleyways," she threw back.

  Joel opened his mouth to reply but then shut it. He turned and looked away as the rain pelted down against his body. Amber was getting cold.

  "Look," she said. "I get it, you don't want to go to the doctor. But how about I at least take a look at it? I live right here. You can come up and dry off. I can put some peroxide on the cut at least."

  "Why?" he hadn't turned back to face her, he was still looking out into the night and the rain.

  "Because you should at least get it cleaned and stop the bleeding."

  "No, I mean why do you want to help me? What's in it for you? I haven't got any money to give you. Losers don't get paid."

  "I'm not looking for money, I just want to help. Why is that so strange?"

  "Nobody just wants to help. Everyone wants something," he replied. He finally turned to face her and his eyes were hard as he glared at her.

  "You know what? Fuck you. I'm tired of this rain. If you want me to help clean that up, you can come. Otherwise, have a nice life." Amber turned befor
e he could say another word and stomped off and out of the alleyway.

  Chapter Nine

  Joel

  He watched the girl, Amber, turn towards the door to her building with exaggerated footsteps, each one splashing the pavement as it stomped away. He didn't believe her for a moment that she wasn't after something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what just yet. He clearly had nothing on him, but maybe she thought he would come back and repay her another time after being overcome with gratitude. Fat chance on that one. He could make his way back to the YMCA and his locker where he stored all of his stuff before a fight, and then find a place to sleep for the night. His head would be better in the morning.

  He took one step, though, and pain shot through the back of his head making it spin again. He wasn't going to make it too far just yet. Damn it.

  "Wait!" he called out. He wasn't sure if she heard him as she had already turned the corner and was out of sight. Could be he was too late. He walked towards the wall and put a hand on it to steady himself, following it until he turned the corner himself. Amber was standing at the door of her building, under an awning, and holding it open as she looked at him expectantly.

  When he reached the door, he just nodded to her. "My name's Joel," he said.

  "I know." Amber turned and walked through without another word, so he followed quietly behind her, making sure to keep a hand on each door or wall that they passed to keep the dizziness away until they got into the elevator. He leaned back against the wall of it as it started to shake and ascend.

  "Don't bleed all over that," she said, looking at him critically now.

  He moved forward to keep his pants and back from touching anything, but kept one hand on the wall for support.

  Now that they were inside and in the light, he was able to see her clearly. Her hair was a wet mess, plastered down against her pale skin as drops of water rolled down her smooth cheeks. Her lips were puffy and full, and she had green eyes that sparkled even as she glared at him. She was beautiful, even soaking wet. He wondered again what the hell she was doing helping him.

  "Where's your shirt, anyway?"

  He shrugged. "In the alleyway somewhere. Probably ruined from the mud and rain at this point."

  "I'm not sure what I have that would fit you," she said.

  "Don't worry about it."

  "Stop being an ass," she snapped. "You're injured and bleeding and I don't need a half-naked man walking around my apartment." The elevator stopped as she spoke. Seventh floor.

  As soon as the doors parted she stepped through and he followed as she walked down the hall to 706, fumbling with her keys for a moment and pausing before putting them in. He wondered if she was having second thoughts about helping after all.

  "You're not a lunatic, are you?" she said, turning to him. "I mean, beyond willingly fighting other men in alleyways. Fuck. You are a lunatic. I don't even know your last name. What the hell am I doing?"

  "You want me to leave, I'll leave," he said. He swayed a bit and then reached out to ground himself by touching the wall next to her door.

  Amber looked at him, their eyes meeting for what felt like longer than was appropriate until she finally shrugged and gave a sort of half smile. She turned back to the door and put her key in, opening it. "Well, fuck it. You're here now anyway, might as well come in. You're in no shape to attack anyone now anyway, even me."

  Chapter Ten

  Amber

  The first thing she needed to do was make sure Joel didn't ruin any of her furniture by bleeding all over it, so she directed him immediately to her little bathroom, the only one in her small apartment.

  "Don't mind the mess," she said. "I wasn't really expecting anyone."

  Joel just grunted, his eyes looking around and taking everything in as if he'd never seen the inside of a girl's apartment before. His eyes landed on a bra she had drying over her shower rod so she grabbed it and put it behind her back. "Let me get some fresh towels, I'll be right back."

  She hurried into her bedroom and shoved the bra and some other clothes she had scattered around under her bed. She shouldn't care what this man thought, and he wasn't likely to come in here anyway, but she still felt self-conscious about the mess. Her mother's voice in her head was about to have a conniption.

  She found some old towels in her closet that she didn't mind ruining and brought them back to the bathroom. At the door, she stood for a moment and watched the stranger she had just let into her house. Joel was studying a picture of the Eiffel tower that she had on her wall, one of the few souvenirs she had brought back from her trip to Paris the year before she had planned to start college.

  He was tall. Over six feet for sure, which made him at least six inches taller than she was but it seemed like he was more than that. The muscles in his back were defined, even through the mud and blood, and the blond hair on his head could be any other color and she'd never know, given how dirty it was. But as he turned, his eyes flickered over to see her watching and they met her own for a moment before she moved in, brandishing the towels in front of her. Blue. She was finally able to see his eyes in the light, and they were deep and blue.

  "Here," she said, "turn around and let me take a look."

  Joel looked skeptically at her again and she rolled her eyes. Finally he turned, slowly, and presented his back to her again. She turned on the tap and put some hot water on one of the towels and then used it to wipe away some of the blood and dirt from his head and hair. He flinched slightly as she touched the wound, but didn't object.

  "It doesn't look too good," she said after cleaning it enough to get a good look. The cut was deep and ran from the base of his skull up about three inches. There was a bump forming around it as well. She used the other end of the towel to start wiping away some of the rest of the dirt that covered his back.

  "It's fine, I just need to rest for a couple of days. I've had worse."

  "I believe it," she said softly. As the dirt came away from his back, she noticed various scars marking his upper body. There had to be at least five or six long ones and then various other smaller ones.

  Joel turned, putting a hand on the towel that Amber held. The edge of his fingers grazed against hers.

  "I can do the rest."

  "Sure," she said. She held the towel a moment longer and then let it go. "Let me get some peroxide though. You don't want an infection. Otherwise you will have to go to the hospital." She opened up the medicine cabinet and pulled out a big bottle as Joel started to wipe some of the grime from his face.

  He looked like he hadn't shaved in a few days, his stubble getting to a length where he'd soon have to make a decision as to whether to clear it off or just grow a beard. Even still, the hair didn't hide the strong jaw line that made up his face, or his full and positively chewable looking lips. Amber shook her head to clear that last thought. Where the hell did that come from?

  "Turn around," she said. This time he complied immediately, still using the now dirty towel to clear off his chest. His upper body, unlike his face, was hairless but she couldn't tell if that was natural or whether he shaved it. It was covered in scars as well, but they took a back seat to the other lines that made up his midsection. Joel was very well defined; his abs looked like something out of a fitness magazine. Amber could only tear away her gaze once he had turned away from her, hiding them from view.

  She took one of the clean towels and told him to lean forward over the sink. As he did, she poured the liquid onto the cut directly. He inhaled sharply. "Sorry, should have mentioned that this would sting a bit. Figured you'd be used to it."

  "I am. It's fine."

  The excess dripped off of him and she dabbed the cut with the towel. Fresh blood was still coming off it, so she pressed the towel firmly against his head to apply pressure. "I think you need to stop this bleeding," she said. "Hold this."

  Joel reached up and around to grab the towel, placing his strong hand on top of hers before she moved it so that he could take its
place. His fingers were calloused and rough, from years of working with his hands. Or fighting.

  Amber stood back as she watched Joel leaning over her sink, holding the towel against his head and obscuring his view. While she had the chance, she took another long look at his hard body. Now that it was mostly clear of grime and he couldn't see her, she was able to admire the lines of his back and the sides of his stomach. He really took care of himself. She couldn't see an ounce of fat on him. His biceps were well formed and large, without being obscenely so. And his filthy pants were slightly too big, leaving them to hang low over his hips and exposing just the swell of his tight looking ass. It had been far too long since Amber had been with a man. And she'd never been with one that had a body like this. Too bad this one was so rude.