His silence frightened me more than anything else he had done or said before. Charming and narcissistic Tony I could handle, I was even beginning to understand how to navigate his violent outbursts, but I’d never come face to face with a silent Tony. It was new territory and I was terrified of what pain this new facet of his personality would bring on me.
Twenty minutes of deafening silence later, we pulled up to the front of a warehouse in a long forgotten industrial complex at the edge of the city. I wasn’t sure what I had expected, but it wasn’t the scene that we rolled up to. A line of spectators formed around the building, the two bouncers by the door letting them in one group at a time. They looked like they were waiting to get into the hottest new club rather than an underground fight. More women than I’d ever imagined dotted the line, all in some version of the tight dress and heels I’d been instructed to wear.
When Tony told me he was a fight promoter, I thought he meant boxing, not illegal bare knuckle cage matches. My introduction to the empire Tony and Marco had built for themselves came slowly, but I should’ve seen the writing on the wall before the cell doors slammed behind me. The fact that Marco was involved should’ve been warning enough, but I ignored the red flags in pursuit of something different.
Tony made it clear what role I was expected to play in his well-orchestrated production. When the car door opened and Tony stepped out into the street, it was like he became a caricature of himself. He insisted on entering the warehouse through the front door, relishing in his own spectacle, giving the rabid blood-thirsty fans a glimpse at the man behind the curtain.
In his world, he was the ultimate rockstar, I was his queen, and he wanted to make sure no one forgot it.
With guards flanking us on either side, I followed closely behind Tony, struggling to keep up with his fast clip in heels. A formfitting dress and six inch stilettos wouldn’t be my first choice for a night at the thunder dome, but the expensive clothes, jewelry, and flashy cars were all part of the act. Tony was putting on a performance and I was his favorite prop.
The crowd parted in front of us as we walked into the makeshift arena like Tony was surrounded by an invisible force field. People moved out of the way automatically, giving us space to make our way to a raised dais. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a few steps leading up to a concrete platform where a short black leather sofa sat waiting for us. It was Tony’s throne. The place where he could sit and watch the mayhem he’d masterminded unfold.
Savannah Heights wasn’t known for its block parties and friendly neighbors, I’d witnessed and been involved in plenty of fights growing up, but nothing I saw in the streets could compare to the brutality displayed in the pit. The hedonistic frenzy created by not only the fighters, but the crowd itself, was impossible to ignore. I could hate the reason I was dressed up and paraded around, but I couldn’t hate the experience. I was captivated from the first punch.
Maybe I was more screwed up from my hood rat upbringing than I thought, because I couldn’t help feeding off the hive mentality and cheering for the exquisite display of violence. The harsh reality of my situation and the hard questions I couldn’t even begin to answer fell to the wayside in the face of the intoxicating atmosphere.
Enraptured, I was blissfully unaware of what was going on around me. Which was why, when the fourth match of the night was announced and he stepped into the cage, I didn’t try to mask my reaction.
My heart dropped and I could feel the smile slip from my face as my heart walked onto the blood-stained concrete. Nixon Davis was both exactly the same and completely different than I remembered him.
A shirtless Nix paced as the MC announced his opponent. His body was different, he’d never been a small guy, but he’d filled out in the past eight years. There was a savage beauty in the way he stalked around the cage, rippling muscles flexing under a sheen of sweat with every step.
Apparently, prison does the body good.
Everything about his physical appearance had changed, but his eyes remained familiar. They found mine and held on for just a beat longer than necessary, hurling me back to a time when all I cared about in the entire world could be found in those blue irises. To a time, place, and feeling I desperately wanted again.
The memories were suddenly ripped away as Tony’s fingers fisted in my hair. “What are you gawking at?”
“Nothing, I’m watching the fight like you told me to,” I bit out.
Tony yanked my head back at an odd angle, sending fire racing across my scalp. “See something you like?” he growled, his hot breath at my neck making my skin crawl.
I tried to shake my head, but his grip was too tight. “No.”
He released his grip on my hair only to curl his fingers around the back of my neck, directing my focus back down to the pit where Nix stood frozen in the middle of the cage watching us.
“He does. He sees something he likes a whole lot. Some men would be offended, but I say let him look. Let him close his eyes and envision you in place of whatever gutter trash whore he ends up fucking tonight, because he’ll never know what the real thing feels like. No one but me will ever touch you again. I own this,” he said, trailing a hand up my bare thigh and under my skirt.
Holding back tears, I sat there still as marble, staring into Nixon’s eyes while Tony’s hand roamed. I didn’t dare push him away for fear of the repercussions, but I clenched my thighs together and prayed for some sort of distraction, anything to stop it.
“Tony,” Marco’s raspy voice called above the crowd.
“What?” Tony snapped, turning to watch Marco climb the three steps to the dais. He slipped his hand from beneath my skirt, but maintained his control of my body with the hand at my neck.
Leaning down, Marco whispered something to Tony I couldn’t make out. Whatever it was, it got his attention, because his grip loosened and his hand fell away. Standing, he smoothed down his suit jacket and shot me a sideways glance.
“Stay here. I’ve got to handle something.” Nodding to two of his guards, he hurried off the dais and into the crowd.
Marco moved to follow suit, but hesitated for just a second, his eyes meeting mine before quickly cutting to the pit. I would’ve missed it if I wasn’t staring at him, but the move spoke volumes nonetheless.
He recognized Nix.
It would’ve been weird if he hadn’t, but that small confirmation meant he also remembered who Nix was, and what he’d once been to me. Would Marco give him up? If Tony found out about Nix while holding court over his fawning constituents, he’d undoubtedly use the opportunity to make a statement.
A bloody statement.
CHAPTER 3
Nixon
I gripped the ‘oh shit’ handle as Sawyer made a wide turn, wishing I would’ve opted to follow him on my bike instead or at the very least forced him to let me drive. “You gonna tell me how you got wrapped up in all this?” I asked.
Sawyer shrugged. “Just tryin’ to get ahead, you know how it goes.”
I did know. I’d lived that life for a long time, first on the streets of Vegas slinging drugs and making collections for Marco, and then in prison, where I did whatever was necessary to stay alive and intact. I didn’t want that life for Sawyer. None of us were going to end up on the straight and narrow, it just wasn’t in the cards, but we could have something better than the shit sandwich we’d been fed all our lives.
“Explain it to me,” I said, not willing to let him off the hook. I needed the whole story if I was going to fix it.
“Started fighting about a year ago. Got sick of gettin’ beat to shit every weekend so I took my winnings and started betting on other fights. Just kinda snowballed from there,” he said, taking a turn into the abandoned industrial district.
“What about the computers in your garage? Those part of your plan to get ahead, too?” I asked.
If Sawyer thought I hadn’t seen the obviously stolen electronics, he didn’t show it. “I do what I have to do, Nix. You’d know that if
you ever bothered to come back home.”
“This isn’t my home,” I said, but the words felt like ash on my tongue. No matter how far I ran, Vegas would always be home.
“Right, I forgot, you don’t need anyone,” he said, guiding the car into a spot next to the curb. He killed the engine and turned to me, his expression suddenly more serious than I’d ever seen it. “I think you’re stubborn. You’ve wanted to come back, but you needed an excuse because your fucking precious pride couldn’t take admitting you were wrong. You pushed everyone away when you got locked up, you pushed so hard the people who cared about you stopped trying. You were so intent on punishing yourself you didn’t realize you were punishing her too. Now’s your chance, I gave you the excuse you needed, don’t waste it.”
I didn’t want to hear it, hated the fact that his words held truth, but I’d take it, I owed him that much. Ellis wasn’t the only one I’d abandoned when I went away. “I won’t,” I said, opening the door and climbing out.
Sawyer followed suit, slamming the driver’s side door and jogging to where I was waiting at the curb. The serious air he’d had about him in the car suddenly replaced with his usual loveable idiot swagger. “Let’s go make some money and save the girl,” he said with a smile, clapping me on the back.
Save the girl.
The fact that she was in a position to need saving in the first place made my stomach turn. As always, I found myself wondering how things would’ve played out if I hadn’t closed myself off. I thought I was doing the right thing, but it all turned to shit anyway.
“God, I miss you,” Ellis whispered, her arms tightening around my neck. My fingers gripped her waist, the shackles at my wrists making it impossible to actually hold her.
One of the guards standing along the wall stepped forward. “That’s enough,” he ordered.
Ellis loosened her grip and stepped out of reach. We knew the drill. Physical contact was limited to a hug and close mouthed kiss at the beginning and end of each visit.
We sat down at the picnic style table, the chains connecting my ankles and wrists jingling loudly with every move. She looked too comfortable sitting across from me in a prison visitation room, like seeing her boyfriend shackled and wearing convict orange was completely normal. It wasn’t.
What I wouldn’t give to be able to reach across the table and touch her, just to hold her fucking hand. You don’t realize how much you need human touch until the option is taken away.
“How are you?” she asked, settling herself into the bench seat.
“Same as I was last week, and the week before that. Prison isn’t really known for its variety.”
“You know what I meant.”
“You gotta stop worrying about me, I’m fine.”
“Stop worrying about you?” she asked, her raised voice drawing attention around the room. Her eyes flicked to the guards before she continued, quieter this time. “I don’t know how to do that, Nix. You’re less and less yourself every time I come here, how am I supposed to not worry?”
“Then maybe you should stop coming.”
“What?”
The hurt in her eyes sliced through me like a hot knife, but I gritted my teeth against the pain. She needed an out and I was giving her one.
“What are you gonna do? Put your life on hold for the next five years just waiting for me to get out?”
“You could get out on parole,” she argued, eyes brimming with fresh tears.
“Babe, that’s another two years away at least. And with my record…” I said shaking my head. Between my previous criminal convictions and the number of times I’d been thrown in solitary over the past twelve months I’d managed to stack the odds against myself. The odds of getting out before I served my full six years were slim to none.
She leaned forward, her eyes imploring me to listen. “We just have to build a case, make them see.”
“See what? This is who I am, Ellis. Stop pretending I’m better than this,” I spat, pissed at myself more than anything.
In true Ellis fashion, she ignored my argument, pushing forward. “Even if you don’t make parole, we’ll figure it out, we always do.”
“And what happens next time?” I challenged. She might be stubborn, but so was I, and I wasn’t blind to the reality of the situation. I had to live with the consequences of my actions, but she didn’t. She deserved better than I could give her, better than me.
She sighed, shaking her head. “You’re not making any sense.”
“No, I’m making perfect sense. What you see here,” I said gesturing to myself. “This is it. Who I am. What do you think is gonna happen when I get out? I’m a convicted felon, a violent criminal. No one is going to hire me, I’m gonna end up right back here. And you’re going to what? Waste your life driving up to the penitentiary to see me every week? God forbid we have kids.”
As soon as I said it, I wanted to reach out and snatch the words back. Eyes tight and mouth hanging slightly open, Ellis looked like I’d just slapped her.
It took her a minute of silence to recover, but when she did, she didn’t hold back. “I’ve never known you to just bend over and take whatever shit hand you were dealt,” she said quietly.
“That’s not funny,” I said. I was big enough and mean enough that most guys steered clear, but that didn’t mean getting cornered by some big dude named bubba wasn’t still a concern.
“It wasn’t supposed to be funny, Nix. This isn’t you, you’re not the guy that gives up. You can push and push, but I’m not buying it.”
I let her think she’d gotten through, keeping my mouth shut for the next hour while she updated me on life on the outside. Mostly, I watched her, trying to commit every detail about her to memory. The sound of her voice, the way her lips curved around my name, the hope and love in her eyes, I held onto all of it. Because when the guards announced the five-minute warning and we said goodbye, I knew it’d be the last time.
“I love you,” she whispered, holding me tight.
Pulling back, I lowered my head, intent on giving her the chaste kiss we’d perfected. As soon as my lips touched hers though, I knew I needed more. If this was our last goodbye, I was going to make it count.
As always, she was quick to pick up on my cues, parting her lips and allowing me access to her sweet mouth. Holding back a groan, I let my tongue dart out, tasting her and falling into a million memories. I remembered everything in those few short seconds. Kissing her for the first time when we were fifteen and how I thought my heart was going to pound out of my chest the first time I told her I loved her. Waking up with her naked body wrapped around mine, the way she sighed through a happy smile after she came, all of it flashed through my mind making what had to come next so much harder.
“That’s enough,” one of the guards barked out. I reluctantly broke the kiss before I caught a baton to the knees and stepped back.
Ellis looked up at me through her eyelashes, an embarrassed smile playing at her lips. “I’ll see you next week, okay?”
“Love you, babe,” I said, taking another step back. The emotion in my voice must’ve given me away because I saw the moment she realized I hadn’t answered her question.
“What did you do?” she breathed, a sense of dread lacing her words.
I just shook my head. I’d made my decision. I could only hope that someday she’d understand it was because I loved her too much to let her waste her life waiting for me. “It’s better this way. I promise.”
Ellis opened her mouth to say something, but one of the guards stepped up beside her. “Ma’am, it’s time to go.”
“But—”
“He’ll be here next week, let’s go,” he said, guiding her toward the door.
He was right, I’d still be here next week, but she wouldn’t. As of tomorrow, Ellis James would no longer be listed on my approved visitor roster. She made it clear she wasn’t willing to let me go, so I’d cut the tether myself. At least without me weighing her down she had a fightin
g chance.
They say love is sacrifice, but I didn’t want her to sacrifice for me, I wasn’t worth it.
Sawyer led me around the warehouse and past the line of people starting to wrap around the building. “Tommy boy!” he hollered, coming up to greet one of the bouncers with an intricate handshake.
“Got balls showin’ your face around here after last week,” Tommy said, slapping Sawyer on the back.
My little brother laughed, spreading his arms wide. “C’mon, you know me, I’m like a cat, got nine lives, bro. Besides, I got a week to square up, that’s plenty of time.”
“Your funeral,” the other bouncer said, shaking his head.
“Haters, all of you!” Sawyer joked. “My brother’s fighting,” he said, hooking a thumb in my direction. “He’s gonna clean up and make me back what I owe and then some, you just wait.”
“If he’s fighting tonight you better get your ass in there. You know how Flaco gets when the fighters are late,” Tommy said, stepping aside.
I nodded to each of the bouncers and followed Sawyer inside. It was a madhouse of bodies, people coming and going, jockeying for a better view of the chain link fencing set up in the center of the massive open space. I watched as he made his way through the crowd, shouting greetings and fielding high fives the entire time. Where I was more of the strong silent type, my brother had always been the life of the party.
“Flaco, my man!” Sawyer said, pulling yet another stranger into a back-slapping bro hug.
“You owe me big time for this,” Flaco said pointedly. “I was able to squeeze him in on four, just need a name.”
Sawyer’s eyes slid to me. “What?” I asked.
“We need a name,” Sawyer said, looking me up and down.
I felt like I was missing the punchline to some joke. “I have a name.”
“This shit is illegal, you can’t use your real name, genius. We need a fight name, something memorable, but not cheesy,” he said, looking to Flaco for help.
Blackout: A Romance Anthology Page 87