Hunter (The Devil's Dragons Motorcycle Club)

by Nikki Wild

  “You said he was out for a run… was he sweaty?” she asked.

  “Kaitlyn, I…”

  “C’mon! How did he look?” It was more of a demand than a question.

  “Good. He looked really good.” I sighed, finally giving in. “He was wearing this skin tight shirt, you know, like the ones made of that neoprene stuff?”

  She nodded in anticipation.

  “His arms and shoulders were big, but he didn’t look stiff in the way he moved them. A lot of times guys who lift weights will get this stiffness in their upper body that I don’t like, but he didn’t have that.”

  “That comes from doing a lot of flexibility exercises,” Kaitlyn giggled. “I bet he stretches a lot too.”

  “Yeah, and he had a really nice “V” shape too,” I continued. “His broad shoulders tapered down toward his thin waist perfectly.”

  “What about his face? He looks really handsome on tv. Was he like that in real life?”

  I thought about it for a second. “Yes,” I said. “In fact, if you hadn’t told me he was a fighter, I never would have guessed it. His face was flawless. I’d expect a guy like him to have broken his nose a few time, or whatever. But he looked really good.”

  “Mmm hmmm,” said Kaitlyn, encouraging me to continue.

  “His skin was this really nice tan, but real, not the kind you see on those Jersey douche bags. But his eyes, Kaitlyn, OH MY GOD! I swear, I think he could see everything that was going on in my head with those eyes.”

  She threw her arms around me and laughed. “You’re so lucky. You have no idea what I would do to have Luke Greer save me and then come to my house. So what time did he leave in the morning?”

  “I told you nothing happened,” I laughed. “He came in, we had a little moment, and he took off?”

  She gave me a look that said ‘yeah, right.’

  “I’m serious. He knew what I’d been through, and I think he just wanted to be a gentleman.”

  “Okay, so what now?” she asked.

  “Nothing now,” I replied. “That’s it. What do you want me to do, send him a thank you card?”

  “No! Go see him! You have to go talk to him, Bria.”

  “I can’t.”

  “But you have to,” she pleaded. “What if he was really interested in you? We were just talking about this. It’s the perfect chance to do something that will take your mind off of Kevin.”

  “I don’t know, I’m not the kind of girl who chases after guys like that. It’s not really my style.”

  “What is your style,” she asked, pointedly.

  “I have to go to work,” I sighed. “See you later?”

  “Of course,” she said. “But you better at least think about it.”

  Eight

  Luke

  Whack! Whack! Thump!

  I swear, the sound of gloved hands destroying a 100 pound punching bag was enough to jack my testosterone through the roof.

  “Let’s go, Luke. One-two, one-two-three. Throw your combinations!” Jimmy barked. “Push hard! You’re almost done.”

  I unloaded two more left hands and a high kick that let off a window-shaking thud.

  “That’s the way to do it, Kid!” Jimmy was in his late fifties and had been training boxers his whole life. He brought me into his gym when I was a kid and taught me everything he knew about the fight business. When I hit it big, I flew him out to Atlas City and gave him a job as my top striking coach. He loved every minute out here.

  “Thanks, Jimmy,” I said, swiping a bead of sweat from the end of my nose. “No matter how big I get, it doesn’t stop you from torturing me in the gym.”

  ‘That’s right, Kid. That’s why you’re gonna beat Simmons, too. Not only are you the most skilled, but you’re gonna be in the best shape.”

  “Not to mention the best looking, too, right?”

  “Shit, Luke, you might wanna ask one of these young gals runnin’ around here that question, not me.” He wrapped the nylon string around his stopwatch then clapped a big hand on my back. “But, yeah, I bet your face wouldn’t look too bad on a Wheaties box one day.”

  Jimmy rolled his shoulders the way all old boxers do, and made off for the locker room. I surveyed my gym to see just who was left.

  Other than a pair of new guys working on grappling techniques in the corner, there were only a handful of girls hanging around the entrance. That’s where they always waited at the end of the day. They just wanted a chance to take a shot at me as I walked out.

  It was the usual mix. Some tall and leggy, others short and stacked. They all seemed to have some sort of blond or colored streaks in their hair. I guess creativity is at a bit of a premium these days…

  On the way to the showers, one of the shorter girls called out to me. “Hey Luke, you need any help soaping things up in the shower?” They all giggled.

  I stopped to eyeball her. She was about 5’1” with dark, loosely curled hair that almost reached her ass. It was thick, shiny hair that seemed almost silky. She wore that all-to-familiar pouty expression on her face.

  “How about we go back there together?” she suggested.

  “Not today, ladies, sorry.”

  They all booed and whined at me in that playful and immature way those kinds of girls do.

  “Aw, c’mon, don’t you like us,” one said.

  Another one yelled, “My friend and I could go back there and give you a massage.” She poked her hip out to bump another girl forward.

  “Yeah,” said the friend. “She could get your back and I could take care of the front.”

  They all exploded in laughter. I didn’t break stride. Instead, I beamed a confident smile and slipped into the locker room.

  My gym bag was vibrating.

  Buzz, buzz. Buzz, buzz.

  Shit, I bet it’s that promoter again.

  I snatched my phone from the side pocket. Don Buting. Yep, one slimy promoter coming up.

  “Yeah?” I answered, indignantly.

  “Luke, it’s Don. How ya doing man?”

  “Wondering why you’re calling me Don,” I said. “You know my rate. Unless you’re ready to write a check we don’t have any business to discuss.”

  “Easy, easy,” he said. I could almost imagine him holding his hands out in the over-exaggerated way that he had. “I think I have something that might work for you.”

  “I’m listening,” I said. My thumb danced around the ‘end’ button.

  “Simmons is willing to give you the majority of the gate. He said you can take the thirty-five percent and he’ll get fifteen. He wants to make this thing happen.”

  “And my contract purse?” I asked.

  “I can do a million. That’s what you want right?”

  “It’s a million-five, now,” I said. “That’s the tax you’re going to pay for disrespecting me last week.”

  There was dead air.

  “You want one point five million? You greedy son of a bitch, I should tear up the contract right now…”

  Beep.

  I ended the call and tossed the phone. It had barely hit my gym bag before it started vibrating again. I accepted the call but didn’t say a word.

  “…Luke, are you there?”

  “Now it’s two,” I said. “And if you ever talk to me like that again, I’ll go fight for another organization so fast your fuckin’ head will spin.”

  “Geez, okay, I’m sorry,” he sputtered. “But let’s not be unreasonable. Two million dollars is a lot of money, Luke, and with your take on the ticket sales your gonna have more than you know what to do with. How about we do the one and half. I can make that happen.”

  “Two million,” I said, firmly. “You do that and my thirty-five percent and we have a deal. No talking to my agent or any of that bullshit. You can make the deal right now, Don.”

  “Okay, Luke. Just let me put in a quick call to the other shareholders and I’ll see what they have to say about it.” He was on the defensive, big time.

&nb
sp; “That’s not what I said, Don. We make this deal right now, or it’s not going to happen.”

  He let out a long sigh that made him sound like a deflating air mattress over the phone. “Okay Luke, you’re killing me here.”

  “I’m not even close to doing to you what I could, and you know it,” I said. “So do we have a deal, or not?”

  “Fine,” he said, with forced enthusiasm. “It’s a deal. You are going to fight Eric Simmons for the world title this coming April. I’ll get on the phone with his people and iron out the details. How does that sound, ch-”

  I ended the call before he could get the words out.

  Nine

  Bria

  “Bria, how’s it going with the Baxter account? Do you want me to show you how to organize those records for the presentation?”

  Jamie Hearn was a weasel of a man. The sound of his voice was like nails on a chalk board.

  “It’s fine, Jamie, I got it.” He never took the hint.

  Fresh out of law school, Jamie was the sort that couldn’t help but be annoying. Ever since the partners brought him on at the end of last year, he couldn’t keep himself away from me. He operated under the pretense that since I didn’t take the bar yet, I must be in awe of someone like himself.

  Jamie passed on the first try and made sure to remind me of the fact every chance he got. No matter how many times I’d told him I wanted some on-the-job experience before I got my license, he took it upon himself to believe that I simply didn’t have it in me. What he failed to consider is that I graduated at the top of my class, and did so at a far more prestigious school than the clown college he went to.

  “Are you sure? I don’t mind helping. I mean, I shouldn’t spend my time down here in the records room. Lord knows my time is better spent doing things other than receptionist work. But, I have to admit, your personality is so magnetic I just have to keep up on what you’re doing.”

  “Uh, thanks,” I muttered, without looking.

  I didn’t need to look up to know he was wearing that same blue power suit with the striped tie.

  “What do you say we go get a latte after you finish up in here? My treat!”

  “No thanks Jamie, that’s not the best idea. Besides, I still have a lot of work to do down here.”

  “I just don’t understand why you won’t go out with me, Bria. What could be so scary about that? We’re both single, and I know you’re not the kind of girl who’s scared to take a walk on the wild side.”

  The way he talked made me equal parts frustrated and creeped out.

  “No, Jamie. I’m not afraid of your wild side, I’m afraid of entering into anything other than a professional relationship with someone at work. Have you ever heard of fraternization? The partners don’t look too fondly on that,” I said.

  “Pshh,” he made his lips smack each other in a way that grated on my last nerve. “Those rules don’t apply. It’s cute that you think that, though.”

  “What are you talking about?” I shot him a look that I hoped would bore straight through him. He didn’t even seem to notice.

  Instead, he plowed ahead with his nonsense. “You’re just a paralegal. Those rules are in place so there is no conflict of interest between two professionals on the same level. You’re more like an assistant, and half the partners are dating, married, or having an affair with their secretaries. Besides, I just asked you if you wanted to grab a coffee. It’s not like I want to marry you.”

  “Can you let me finish my work please?” I asked. There had been so many times when I wanted to tell him exactly what I thought of him. It would probably feel incredible to tell him about his stupid suit and his fake smile… how I wanted to choke him with that pathetic tie and what he could do with his condescending attitude. But I couldn’t. He was a lawyer, and technically that meant he had some authority over me. As the senior paralegal I reported directly to Jones, but it wouldn’t look good if I caused a rift. Anyway, I’d heard through the grapevine that Jamie was someone’s nephew… The kind of spoiled asshole with important connections that could get a girl fired. That’s why I hadn’t reported him for harassment. Yet.

  “Fine,” he said. I could feel him undressing me with his eyes. “If you want to live your life down here in the basement, so be it. There’s a million girls out there just dying to be in your position, though. Don’t forget that.”

  Before I could answer, he turned on the heel of his expensive Italian shoe and strolled up the stairs. It was probably a good thing he didn’t stick around long enough to hear what I muttered under my breath.

  I took a quick glance at the clock. It was almost five thirty and the sun would be going down soon. I wanted to get out and do some grocery shopping before the weekend but the day had been a disaster.

  First thing in the morning I’d been practically attacked by the girls at the front desk. They all wanted to know if I was okay. When I called, I had only mentioned that I’d had a small incident the night before, but Kaitlyn had posted up the whole story on her facebook and at this point it felt like the whole damn world knew what happened to me.

  I didn’t know whether to be flattered or embarrassed by how everyone had acted toward my absence. The fact that my co-workers had all assumed I was dead when I hadn’t shown up to work my typical half-hour early made me think that Kaitlyn really was right. Maybe I was becoming a workaholic.

  From there it was a mess of work. Someone in accounting had screwed up the receivables and I was tasked with sorting through the client records. It took me all morning to go through the stacks of depositions and meeting minutes. I had to account for every second the firm spent consulting with a local small business over some property dispute they were having. It was excruciatingly boring work to say the least, and all because some ditz upstairs couldn’t keep her numbers straight.

  After that, I’d spent the rest of the afternoon going through and noting city ordinances in preparation for a hearing next week. It wasn’t exactly the exciting life I imagined when I first made the decision to get into law.

  My lower back ached from moving boxes of records. I wanted to be anywhere else. And worst of all, I couldn’t get that guy from last night off my mind. After Kaitlyn finally went home this morning, I’d taken a few minutes to do some research.

  Luke Greer was twenty-eight years old and from South East Texas. That explained the sexy depths of his voice… He’d won some sort of major martial arts tournament when he was a kid and that sprung him toward the national spotlight. After that, he started a career that led him around the world. He’d had fights in Thailand, Germany, the Netherlands, and countless matches right here at home.

  Wow. I sounded like an obsessed fan. Why had I been so dismissive? I clearly liked this guy.

  There was a little voice in the back of my head that kept telling me to go see him. Up until now, I had done well to shut it out. Maybe it was the stress of the long day or that I was just beginning to realize that everyone in my life thought of me as the same old boring Bria, with nothing going on other than her job, but I decided then and there to go see him.

  It wouldn’t be hard. I could just go to thank him again. There’s nothing weird about that. And if he didn’t seem as interested as he was last night, no big deal. I’d say my goodbye and be on my way.

  I dropped the file box I was holding on the table and made my feet move toward the stairs before I lost my nerve. The doubt started to creep in almost immediately. The excuses weren’t far behind.

  You have too much work to do.

  You can’t go chase after some fighter. He could have any girl he wanted, anyway.

  He was probably just being nice, nothing more.

  But I forced myself to keep walking. I went up the stairs without even putting anything away. I was going to have to force myself to do this. As I was walking down the hall, one of the junior partners called out to me. It was something about a fax he was waiting on. I kept walking like didn’t hear him.

  I made it to
the parking lot, but not before three other people asked me to do something for them. If I’d learned nothing else, I’d found out that I could be a little more assertive at work. Everybody seemed to think I was the firm’s servant, but I had to take the blame for that. Since I’d started, I tried to do anything and everything to help other people out, even if they asked too much. It was clearly apparent now that it had become expected of me.

  When I hopped in my car I felt happy. It was invigorating to take a little bit of control of my life. I started the car and headed off toward Luke’s gym.

  Ten

  Bria

  ‘Greer Mixed Martial Arts’ showed prominently in big red letters on the front of the building. In the parking lot there were a few cars scattered about. It looked like most of the people had gone home for the day. Luke’s Maserati was parked near the front doors.

  I hopped out of my car feeling totally and completely out of place. Two big guys walked out together. One had a mohawk that was colored green. The other looked like one of the bad guys in a Sylvester Stallone movie. His nose had been broken a handful of times and there was excessive scar tissue above each of his eyes.

  The one with the mohawk stared at me as they crossed the lot. I couldn’t make out what he was saying but when he nudged his buddy and made a motion like he was pushing something into his crotch, I was glad to be out of earshot.

  The place was incredibly intimidating. There were a couple of young girls hanging around by the entrance. They were probably just waiting on their boyfriends… Or did girls fight too? I wasn’t even sure.

  “Hey,” I asked the one who looked a little less like a cheap stripper, “do you know if Luke Greer is around? I’m hoping to see him…”

  She looked at me as if I had two heads. “Luke? Are you joking? Are you, like, his sister or something?”

  “No…,” I replied cautiously. “Why, is it weird that someone would ask for him or something?”