When it comes time to stick your neck out emotionally, you run away scared.
He let out a deep breath, trying to release some of the tension he was feeling as he thought about those words. Amber's interpretation of the way he lived his life was accurate. He had no problem with physical pain, but he really was trying to shelter himself from feeling anything emotionally. With physical pain you could figure out the cause and heal it. You could often fight back. Emotional pain stayed with you.
Just get out! He could still hear his mother's voice, as if she were right there beside him.
Amber was right in another way, too. He was living in the shadow of his past, unable to get on with his life. She was offering him a lifeline, trying to pull him in from an ocean of loneliness and he was throwing it back, telling her to let him drown.
Sounds of a crowd pulled his attention back and he realized he'd already arrived at the fight. The little parking lot behind the abandoned warehouse where they were fighting tonight was packed, and he saw Randy smile as soon as he saw Joel pushing his way through.
Randy introduced the fighters to the crowd a few minutes later as Joel pulled off his shirt. His opponent was a lean young black man who seemed like he couldn't be much older than 20, if that. He looked fresh, his body untouched and undamaged. To Joel, that meant that he was either very good or very new to this. Given his age, he guessed the latter.
His name was Tyrell, and according to Randy's introduction this was only his second fight but he had won the first one very quickly. When Randy announced Joel, he made particular mention of how he had lost his last fight, and hadn't fought in a couple of weeks but was trying to make his comeback.
Randy then told everyone that the fight would begin in 15 minutes and betting was now open. He walked around, collecting wagers as one of his employees helped by recording each one for later payouts.
Joel watched Tyrell. The young man was bouncing around, full of nervous energy. Whenever he caught Joel's eye, he would try to stare him down. Joel remembered acting similarly when he was just getting started.
"Joel?"
He turned and saw a thin bald man beckon him from the sidelines. He looked familiar but he couldn't quite place him. He still had a few minutes before the fight so he walked over.
"Glad to see you're healed up after the tournament at Golden Dragon," the man said. "I was looking forward to your fight with Carlos, a lot of people were disappointed that it didn't happen."
"No one more than me," Joel said. He must have recognized this guy from the crowd that night.
"You think you could have taken him?"
"I think he was lucky we didn't get to find out," Joel said. He still regretted not being able to slam his fists into the big Hispanic's face a few times. Even if Joel lost the match in the end, that would have at least left him satisfied.
The bald man just nodded, his lips pursed as if imagining how the fight would have gone. "Well, good luck tonight."
Joel thanked him and returned to the center just as Randy was announcing that the match was about to begin. He wasn't thrilled about being recognized, but he figured it was unlikely anyone from Rock House would be here. Shawn spoke out against these types of fights enough that most of the fighters would stay clear of them. They'd have almost as much to lose by admitting they were here as Joel would.
The match started and Tyrell rushed Joel immediately, his nervous energy propelling him like a ball of fire to start the match. Joel sidestepped easily and swung his fist around to crash into the black man's midsection. He felt the bones of his hand pound against Tyrell's ribs with a satisfying thunk as adrenaline started to course through him.
Tyrell winced and spun around, throwing out a back hand as he spun that Joel easily blocked. He countered by lowering his body and delivering yet another shot to the same place. This time, Tyrell doubled over and stepped back. Joel let him, even though he knew he could have seized on the opportunity to leap forward and finish the match quickly. He was enjoying this too much, though. Both hits had sent a thrill of bloodlust up through his body, and he was beginning to imagine that Tyrell was really Darryl.
The other fighter recovered and moved forward, much slower this time, watching his opponent and keeping his fists near his face and his elbows by his ribs. The men circled, and Tyrell threw a few jabs. Joel danced away from them, thinking about how angry that made his father the first few times he had done the same to him.
Stop bouncing around like a pansy, boy, his father had said. Come and fight me like a man. His father hadn't seen the irony of that statement, as he threw his fists at the twelve-year-old.
Tyrell threw a wider punch this time, taking a shot at connecting with Joel's chin. This time, Joel stepped forward, letting the man's long arm swing around his head instead and now that he was close enough, Joel slammed the top of his head forward into the other man's nose. He heard a crunch just before he felt the spray of blood rain down across his shoulder. Tyrell fell back with a cry, his hands reaching up to grab his broken nose.
Joel wasted no more time. He turned on his heel and delivered a crushing side kick into Tyrell's torso, doubling the man over as he sank to his knees. His hands dropped to his stomach now as a puddle of blood began to instantly form below his down turned head.
Joel stood over him, waiting with his fist raised. As expected, Tyrell looked up to see what Joel was planning next. As soon as his head lifted, Joel's fisted came crashing down into it.
This is for you, Darryl.
The other man's limp body fell over onto his side and the crowd around Joel erupted in cheers. He hadn't even remembered they were there, he'd been so consumed with the hatred he had been unleashing. Was this how his father felt whenever he'd had too much to drink and wanted to flex his muscle against his family? The thought of that made Joel feel sick.
Randy ran up to Joel, raising one of his arms as the audience continued to hoot and holler at the brutality of the matchup. "You've won a lot of fans tonight," Randy yelled in his ear. "We need to schedule another fight as soon as possible to ride this momentum."
Joel nodded dully as he stared down at Tyrell's body. No one was making a move to see if he was okay, but he could tell he was breathing at least. His nose was a mess, and blood was still dripping down his cheek and onto the concrete below.
"Tonight was a big score," Randy was continuing. "I knew you'd win, that's why I tried to make the match sound like he was the favorite." He nodded at the black man who was now starting to stir. "Moved a lot of bets his way, which means more money for us. Close to $400 should be coming to you."
Joel nodded again. This was a means to an end, but it couldn't keep going on forever. He'd do what he had to do until he could figure something else out. For now, that money meant something important, and he wasn't going to waste the opportunity to make a change. It was time to stop drowning.
Chapter Forty-Five
Amber
Amber woke the next morning to a racing heart after hearing a sound coming from her living room. She leapt out of her bed in only her nightshirt and reached under her bed for the golf club she stored there.
Her door opened and she yanked the metal bar out and lifted it in front of her, ready to slam it down and run if needed.
"Whoa, easy there Tigress Woods, it's just me." Joel stood in her doorway with his hands up. He had a duffel bag slung over one muscular shoulder and was wearing a bright red T-shirt.
Amber dropped her arm down, the head of the club making a thud as it came to rest against the floor. "Oh, Joel. I wasn't sure you'd be back." She wanted to run into his arms, but she kept her voice cold as she struggled for control. She wasn't lying when she told him she was getting tired of this back and forth shit. She needed more stability in her life.
"I'm sorry," he said. "You were right. About everything. I have been afraid. Of this," he gestured to himself and then Amber. "Of committing. Of exposing myself to getting hurt again by someone I care about."
"I
can't keep doing this," she said. Her heart was swelling in her chest, but she wasn't about to do this again without some assurance that he wasn't going to continue to leave every time they had an argument.
Joel stepped forward, the bag on his shoulder slipping off as he grabbed the handle and bent slightly to drop it to the ground. "I know," he said. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said and what you did."
Amber opened her mouth to protest, but she closed it again when Joel raised his hand and continued.
"I'm not blaming you anymore," he said. "I get that I can't expect to have a real relationship with someone if I'm not willing to let them in. I have nothing to hide anymore, Amber. Not from you, anyway. I kept my past a secret because I was ashamed of it. Not just of the way my parents treated me, but of whether I was going to turn out like them.
"I've been thinking lately about why I fight. I mean, I need to earn money and I don't have a lot of skills, and I'm good at it... but I've been wondering if there's something more? Like, maybe my father passed on some of his violence to me. Maybe it's in my blood. And I think I've been afraid that if you knew where I'd come from, or if you suspected that violence was more than just a job for me but was part of my DNA, then you wouldn't want to be with me. And I couldn't blame you for that."
"Oh, Joel," she said, letting out a deep and shuddering breath that she'd been holding while he spoke.
He shook his head again, not finished. "I just want you to know, Amber, that even if it is in my blood... even if there's something deep in my cells that drives me to keep fighting... I will never, ever, lay a finger on you. I will never hurt you. I'd kill myself before I'd do that. I won't become my father. I won't become a monster. I swear it."
Amber blinked as the image of Joel became distorted behind the tears that welled in her eyes. "I know you won't," she said softly.
"So anyway," Joel said, clearing his throat, "if you're still open to my moving in-"
Amber crossed the short distance between them and grabbed Joel hard by the front of the shirt and pulled him forward, her lips cutting him off in mid-sentence.
He responded immediately by opening his mouth and taking control, his tongue pushing back at hers and asserting dominance. He moved his hard body closer so that they were touching and Amber could feel the heat coming off him in waves.
Joel's arms wrapped around her body, completely enveloping her as his hands caressed her back, massaging gently with his fingertips. His mouth slipped away from hers and continued along her face, pressing gentle kisses along her cheek and down the contours of her neck. Amber's breathing quickened and she put her own arms around his waist, pulling him closer and feeling his arousal pressing through his pants and against her belly button as she did.
"Joel," she moaned as his hands dropped lower down her back and found the edge of her night shirt, slipping underneath to grab her bare ass firmly. Lifting her up with his strong hands, he pulled her to him and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he spun and leaned forward. The two of them fell onto her bed with him on top, still clothed, between her spread legs. His hands were on either side of her, supporting his weight from pushing down on her completely.
As soon as they hit the mattress, Joel's mouth moved back against hers, kissing her with a renewed urgency. She responded, pulling him closer with her legs as his tongue probed deep into her mouth. She wanted more of him inside of her, though. Still kissing him, Amber slid her hands in between them and pulled violently on the button of his pants until it was undone. She yanked the zipper down and then hooked her thumbs into his waistband as she tried to work them down his hips without breaking contact with his lips.
Joel dropped one of his own hands down along her body and touched her calve, running along the smooth skin with his rough and calloused hands. A shiver ran up Amber's spine and she trembled as he moved it further up and onto her thigh.
His warm fingers continued their ascent, slipping under the thin cloth of Amber's nightshirt and past her belly until he had hold of one of her breasts, his thumb caressing her sensitive nipple. She gasped as soon as he made contact and ground her hips upward against the small amount of flesh she had been able to expose on him.
"Take them off," she whispered, pulling her mouth from his momentarily and then resuming where they had left off. No other explanation was necessary as Joel withdrew his hand from her shirt and wiggled his pants down. She felt his legs move as he used them to kick his clothes free until he was naked from the waist down.
Amber glided her hand down his hard body and wriggled it in between them as Joel shifted his weight to his supporting hand and lifted his body a bit to let her through. She grabbed him firmly, the hot and hard power that throbbed in her hand only serving to further feed her desire. "I need... this..." she said, squeezing him purposefully.
The fighter grunted in agreement, and she pulled him toward her entrance. He brought his hand back up and into her shirt, and just as she felt it grasp her breast again he thrust forward, merging their bodies as he filled her. She took a deep breath, bending her knees up along his abs to allow him to push even deeper.
His hips pressed hard against hers as they both took a second to get used to each other's bodies before he began to pull back. When he started to inch himself forward, Amber urged him along with her ankles, pulling his ass toward her. She wasn't interested in gentle and slow right now. She wanted hard and she wanted fast.
As if reading her mind, Joel's hips began to rock back and forth between her legs, going from slow and steady to a frenzied pounding within seconds. She closed her eyes, focusing on the pleasure that grew within her depths and then gasping as he added to it by biting the nape of her neck lightly as his index finger and thumb pinched her nipple.
"Fuck, Joel, keep going," she pleaded, moving the hand she had used to guide him up to her own swollen nub and rubbing along in time with his pounding.
Joel began to grunt with each thrust, and his speed increased, indicating that he was also very close to an explosive finish. Amber bit her lip as her legs pulled him ever deeper each time their bodies met. She felt him start to expand within her just as she reached her own peak. With a shuddering moan, he released, filling her with a hot fire that she could feel blasting deep inside of her. Her own body was quivering now as well, and she could feel herself undulating and squeezing against his hard flesh. She pulled him even closer, unwilling to let him pull away until they had both stopped trembling.
When he finally did, he rolled over to lie next to her, both of them wearing only their shirts, although hers was hiked up over her breasts which she was grateful for since it meant the heat of her body wouldn't be trapped around her.
"So, I also wanted to ask you something else," he said, after he had stopped panting.
"Anything," Amber turned her head to him and smiled.
"The other day, when we were fighting, you called me your boyfriend..."
Amber could feel her face get hot as she giggled nervously. "Yeah, sorry. That was a Freudian slip or something."
"No, I liked it. I mean... it's kind of high school, but I like what it means. I don't want anyone else, Amber. Just you."
She smiled at him and rolled up onto her elbows, bending down and kissing him on the lips again. When she pulled off, she lay her head down on his chest and closed her eyes, a big smile spread across her face.
Maybe he wasn't such a fool after all.
Chapter Forty-Six
Joel
Later that day, Joel explained to Amber that the only way that living together was going to work for him was if he could contribute. To that end, he told her that he would split the rent and bills with her fifty-fifty. He felt bad, but in order to explain how he would manage his half, he made up a lie about Shawn giving him some work to do at the club that he could do after they closed at nights.
The lie served two purposes. For one, it explained his sudden influx of cash. But just as important, it also explained away how he would be coming
home late some nights. He figured even if he only fought once a week, it would be more than enough to cover the expenses. Anything over that he could just save for emergencies. If he showed Amber too much cash, it would be suspicious anyway, since it was unlikely Shawn would be paying him very much for doing odd jobs after hours at the club.
For a few weeks, things went along perfectly. His training and conditioning at the gym were improving his technique and stamina, and he was winning all of his after-hours fights for Randy. Occasionally he'd come back with a noticeable bruise or black eye, but those were easily explained away. He would tell Amber that he got it during training, and he would tell each of the guys that he had got it the previous day from one of the other guys when they were sparring. No one asked questions. Injuries were part of the job.
"Why the big smile," Amber asked him one morning, about a month after he had moved in.
Silver and Chrome: A Bad Boy MC Romance Page 57