Silver and Chrome: A Bad Boy MC Romance

by St. Clair, Aubrey

  "Isn't rent due today?"

  Amber squinted at her boyfriend with a little frown. "Yes... so again, why the big smile?"

  Joel shrugged. "I don't know, I've never paid rent before. It feels kind of nice to be able to, I guess." He handed her an envelope filled with his half.

  Amber threw her head back as she laughed. "I don't think I've ever met anyone who was happy to pay rent before." When she saw Joel's smile fade a bit, she walked up to him and cupped his cheeks in her hands, pulling his head down until their foreheads touched. "I know what you mean, though. I think it's sweet." She pressed her lips to his and gave him a hard kiss to emphasize her point.

  "I got you something else," he said, pulling away from her and opening her closet door. He reached up to the top and stuck his hand between the extra blankets that were out of her reach, pulling out a rectangular black box. It was almost as big as a shoe box, but much thinner. He handed it to Amber as she gave him a questioning look.

  "What is this?"

  "Open it," he said.

  Holding the box with one hand, Amber lifted off the lid with the other. When she saw what was inside, she inhaled sharply.

  "You said you didn't have one," he said, reaching into the box. He pulled apart the ends and pushed his hands through her red hair to place it around her neck and then stepped back. Amber hadn't said anything, she was just staring down at the empty box in her hand.

  "I think it fits," he said. "I don't think it comes in different sizes."

  Amber finally lifted her head, and when she did there were tears streaming down her face. "I can't believe you remembered..." Her hands reached up and she touched the metal disc that hung around her belly, running her fingers around its edge.

  Joel shrugged and reached up to wipe away the tears from her face. "Can't be a nurse without a stethoscope, right? Think of this as just the first step toward your dreams."

  Amber leapt forward, tackling her boyfriend onto the bed behind him and kissing him, running her fingers through his blond hair, pulling his face close to hers and biting on his full lips. "You're amazing," she whispered.

  Joel was almost late for his training session that morning after Amber had insisted on demonstrating her appreciation, over and over. He almost had to fight her off trying to get her to let him get ready to go.

  He sped through his training, his mind on other things. As usual, he spent most of his time studying technique and working on his stamina, foregoing weights and strength training. He was more of a technical fighter and figured he would have time to build up more power behind his punches later. For now, he decided it was more important to be able to last long enough to go for the submissions he had been perfecting. In the past, many of his wins came from those submissions and he wanted to concentrate on his strengths. Chris argued that he needed to be more well-rounded, as there were times where your opponent forced a boxing match no matter how much you wanted to wrestle. Joel could see the value in that, but he would have time to focus on that later.

  He was fighting tonight, and it was a big one. His opponent was from out of state, but rumored to be unbeaten. He was on vacation and looking for some action while away from home. Randy had told Joel it would be a big payday because there were a lot of people that had heard about this guy and wanted to see him fight. He figured winning this one fight alone would probably net Joel over a grand. Maybe a lot more.

  When he finished at Rock House at around six, he went through his normal routine. He headed to the shelter nearest to the fight for a nap, and then woke up in time to walk to the venue. This time it was inside of an abandoned factory. When he got there, the parking lot was full and he could hear the noise from the crowd even before he opened the front door.

  Inside waiting for him was the biggest crowd he'd seen at one of these. Easily a couple hundred people, and he could see that Randy was already walking around with his assistants, taking bets. When he noticed Joel, he waved him over and they stepped away to talk privately.

  "You ready for this one, kid?"

  "Of course," Joel said.

  "This guy is big," Randy said, motioning with his head.

  Joel looked over to where he had indicated. Standing by the wall of the factory was a huge monster of a man. His arms were thick and corded with muscle, and his long legs reminded Joel of tree trunks. He had tattoo sleeves running up both arms and seemed to have virtually no neck that Joel could see. He went from broad muscular shoulders directly to a head that was topped with a closely cropped haircut that looked like it had been done at a military barber. Joel tried not to look disturbed by the size of the man and just nodded.

  Randy laughed nervously. "Well, the bigger they are the harder they fall, right? That's what they say." He clapped Joel on the shoulder. "Good luck, kid. We start in five." Randy returned to the crowd to continue collecting bets.

  He's big, but can he fight? Joel knew from experience that size didn't really mean anything if there wasn't enough technique to back it up. This guy was unbeaten, but who knows what the competition was like where he came from. Joel had been training with actual professionals. He'd been working a lot on his stamina and technique lately. Surely he had the advantage. As big as this guy was, he'd have to lug all of that weight around. Probably tires him out pretty quickly.

  "Joel, hey!"

  His attention shifted to the familiar bald man that had recognized him from his tournament. He'd seen the man come to a few of his fights since then, and wasn't surprised to see him here again today.

  "That's one big mother fucker," the man noted.

  "So is Carlos," Joel responded. "But I'll still happily kick his ass if I ever get the chance."

  The other man gave a slight nod, pursing his lips as if he was doubtful, but too polite to say it. Joel shrugged and turned away. He'd dealt with doubters all his life. He usually proved himself with his fists. He wondered whether he'd ever get the chance to do that with Carlos.

  Walking back through the crowd, Joel pulled off his shirt as Randy started the introductions. The crowd cheered when he announced Joel. He imagined how much louder it would be if he ever made it to the big time, fighting in massive Las Vegas casinos or city stadiums.

  Then Randy introduced his opponent who apparently went by the nickname the Executioner. The crowd roared even louder when they heard that. He wondered, not for the first time, whether he should have a nickname of his own.

  The fight began and both men approached each other. As Joel suspected, the big man wasn't quick, and he started to strategize how to use that to his advantage. Each step the man took was an awkward forward shuffle that led with his right leg as he seemed to drag the rest of his bulk up behind it.

  His opponent was standing in a traditional fighting stance, with his right arm raised near his face, squared off with his right knee, and his shoulder facing Joel. As they got closer, Joel noticed the tattoo that was plastered across his entire upper arm. It was a very detailed image of a muscular man with a black hood draped across his head and face. His hands held a sharpened axe that lay across his shoulder, dripping blood. The entire tattoo was black and white except for the blood, which was bright red. He wondered which came first, the nickname or the tattoo.

  Joel decided to make his move, anticipating a slow response from the big man. With a burst of speed, he swung his leg up and slammed it into his opponent, right under the raised right arm and then pulled it away before the big man could respond. He connected solidly, but the Executioner barely even flinched. Instead, he took another step toward Joel. Joel moved a step back, trying to keep out of reach.

  The crowd reacted with a roar when he had thrown his kick, but now they booed as he moved out of reach, thirsting for more action.

  He leapt forward again, this time throwing two punches at the big man's mid-section and then slipping away just as his meaty arms came down to try and grab for him. And again, although his punches were solid, the other man didn't seem to be affected by the attacks.

&nb
sp; Again the man advanced, and as Joel stepped back he reached the edge of the crowd behind him. Usually the circle would move as the crowd kept a relatively equal distance between themselves and the fighters. Tonight, though, they weren't getting out of the way. Joel wasn't sure if it was because there were a lot more people here than usual, and maybe they just didn't know the etiquette, or if it was because they thought they could force more action by blocking his retreat. Whatever it was, he was trapped from moving back any further.

  Before he could decide what to do, the other fighter attacked. He took another step forward to close the gap and then threw a roundhouse punch at Joel's head. It wasn't quick and Joel had plenty of time to raise his arm to deflect it, but the sheer power of the other man pushed right past his block and his fist connected with the side of his head, knocking him off balance.

  He could hear the crowd around him roar as they finally stepped back, anxious to not become part of the action themselves. It was too late for Joel, though. He tried to stagger back out of the way, but the Executioner moved forward again before he'd completely recovered. Another fist drove into him, this time hitting him right in the face after once again pushing past his guard as if he were a white belt on his first day of class.

  Joel felt his nose explode on impact, covering his mouth and chest in hot, wet blood. The power behind the bigger man's punches seemed impossible to him, each one like a wrecking ball. He'd been hit in the head plenty of times before, but never so hard.

  As his opponent raised his fist again, Joel leapt forward, pushing past the pain and dizziness and thrusting himself inside of the big man's reach as he slammed his own fist into the side of his huge head.

  The Executioner's chin moved to the right on impact but then snapped back, a humorless smile plastered across his face. He reached around Joel's neck and grabbed him in a iron-gripped head lock. Joel threw his knees and elbows at each exposed part of his captor's body, but each one may as well have been thrown against a brick wall.

  Suddenly, he felt that massive fist crash into his face again, and then again. A pressure was forming around his head as it was squeezed, reminding him of when he'd try to pop a zit back in high school. His last thought was whether or not his head was going to explode in a similar manner as the room darkened around him.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Amber

  "Oh my god, what the hell happened?" Amber cried out as Joel staggered through the door. She'd never seen him like this, not even after he'd lost the fight the night they'd met. His face was a mess. His nose looked crooked, and there was dried blood everywhere. His left eye was black and completely swollen shut.

  He opened his mouth to say something but then began to cough into his hand. When he brought it away she saw the bright red shine of fresh blood on his palm.

  "Shit, Joel, you're coughing up blood? You might have an internal injury, we need to go to the hospital!"

  "No," he croaked. "It's just from my mouth." He opened his mouth to show her his left canine was missing, the gap still oozing blood.

  Amber gasped at the sight, but a thrill of relief flooded through her as she realized it wasn't something more serious. She was still horrified at the sight of him. She reached forward and put her arm around him, leading him to the couch.

  "I'm going to get some ice," she said after sitting him down. There was a welt on his forehead the size of a baby's fist. "What happened?"

  She hurried to the kitchen, putting some ice in a paper towel and worrying about her boyfriend. The last time he'd been injured seriously he'd had a concussion that was left untreated for a while. If he was hurt badly this time as well, he'd never admit it.

  Joel was laying down across the couch with his eyes closed when she returned. He still hadn't given her an answer. Her lips pressed tightly as she pressed the ice to his head. He opened his eyes in surprise at the sudden cold.

  "You were fighting in alleyways again, weren't you?" she accused.

  Joel closed his eyes again, but he mumbled a response.

  "What?"

  "I said it was an abandoned factory, actually."

  Amber pressed down hard with the ice against his welt, causing him to gasp in sudden pain.

  "You promised me you were done with that," she said.

  "I know. I'm sorry."

  "Why the hell would you do this again, Joel?"

  He didn't respond for about a minute, and Amber wondered if he had fallen asleep or passed out. Then he took a deep breath and opened his eyes again. At least, she thought he was trying to open them both. The swollen one was too battered to tell.

  "I wanted to live with you. I wanted this to work. But the only way I could convince myself to do it was if I could pay my way."

  His voice was quiet and weak. Was it because he was tired and hurt or ashamed? She wasn't sure. "There's no job at Rock House, is there?"

  Joel's head moved slightly before he winced. "No. I'm sorry, Amber."

  She let out a long and shuddering breath. She was angry that he lied, and even more so that he put himself in danger again. But now wasn't the time to deal with that. "I know. Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital? I think your nose is broken."

  "It is," he said. "But no hospitals."

  "Fine," she said. She removed the towel from his head and took the ice out, placing it on the table next to the couch. Then she gently wiped away the dried blood from around his nose and held the towel against his nostrils. "Blow."

  The towel turned crimson as he did.

  "How long ago did this happen?"

  "I don't know, maybe 30 minutes? I took a cab back afterward."

  It was cutting it close, but she could still help. She raised her palms and brought them together and then lowered them so that they were touching the top of his nose. "This is going to hurt," she said.

  She pressed firmly as Joel exhaled in pain, bringing the bottom of her hands together under his nose. Then she pulled her palms down the sides of it, putting pressure until it looked to be roughly straight again.

  The final step was inserting a finger into each nostril, aligning it from the inside as well. Picking up the towel, she instructed Joel to blow out again. More blood and pus came out.

  "Where'd you learn that?" he asked when she was done and started to stuff tissue into his nostrils to help keep it set and absorb any more blood.

  "The benefits of having a wannabe nurse as your girlfriend," she said, shrugging. "But you really should see a doctor. I don't know if it's going to stay straight."

  Joel grunted. "I wouldn't be the first fighter with a crooked nose."

  She shook her head at his stubbornness. "Well, you might as well sleep on the couch tonight, I don't think you're in any shape to clean up and I don't want you bleeding all over the bed." And she was still mad at him. "We can re-evaluate in the morning after we see how you look."

  "Okay," he agreed. His eyes were already closed again. Amber stared at him for a few more moments before sighing and turning toward bed herself.

  Joel's nose looked a bit more crooked in the morning than when she had left him, but it was still a lot better than when he had first come home.

  "It's going to set that way if you don't go to a doctor," she said, standing behind his shirtless body as they examined him through the bathroom mirror. Now that they had washed away all of the blood, it was easier to evaluate his injuries.

  The bump on his head had already receded a bit, so Amber wasn't that worried about that wound. His nose, although crooked, would be fine as well. But his eye was completely swollen shut and he couldn't even open it this morning. He had some other pretty angry looking bruises on his body, but they were less serious. When she had pressed along his rib cage, although he was tender, she could tell that nothing was broken.

  She scoffed at him when he mentioned possibly still going to Rock House. "Are you kidding me? Are we looking in the same mirror?"

  He shrugged and turned away, walking back into the living room a
nd returning to the couch.

  "I think I'm in trouble," he said.

  Her heart sped up and she sat down next to him. "What do you mean?"

  "Rock House has a policy of no outside fighting. Shawn basically said if I continued I would be kicked out."

  Amber took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she let it out slowly. Then why the hell didn't you stop? She knew the answer, though. His twisted sense of obligation to not feel indebted to anyone. If he wanted to live here, he needed to help pay the bills. "You'll have to lie," she said.

  "What am I going to say? It's pretty obvious this came from a fight."

  "Okay, so tell him you got in a fight but it wasn't because you were competing or anything. Tell him it was a bar fight."