by J. L. Leslie
There were eleven prospects who entered this division. Warren is one of those men. I’m not close with him by any means, but I did sit across from him at dinner just two nights ago. Now, it’s possible he won’t get out of that ring alive after what I just witnessed.
“How is this happening?” I ask Mackenzie. “How is this even legal?”
“It’s not,” she answers. “But the chief seems to love it. That’s him sitting right there. I barely recognize him without his uniform on.”
She’s right. It is Chief Hightower, and he has a pretty redhead sitting on his lap who also seems to be enjoying the show.
We continue to watch now that the prospects’ division is coming to an end. It’s brutal, and I find myself wincing and feeling a little sick to my stomach as I witness the savagery of these men. Some men live through the fights, and some of them don’t, being carried out of the ring by their fellow club members.
“Warren is in the ring,” Mackenzie comments and I notice the redhead sitting on the chief’s lap cheering him on.
I wonder who she is to him. She definitely knows him because he walks over to her and gives her a kiss before his fight begins. I find myself rooting for him as well. Maybe it’s because he’s Lucien’s friend. I’m not sure how Lucien would feel if he were to lose.
Losing a fight for some of these men here tonight is not just going home and admitting you got your ass kicked by another fighter. It’s losing your life. It’s never going home. I know all too well how it feels to be the person getting told that your loved one is gone.
“I don’t know how much longer I can watch this,” I admit to Mackenzie.
“He won.”
I look to the stage and Warren holds the man in his arms, his neck broken. It seemed to have happened so fast. He lowers him to the ground and stands victorious. This division is over.
We stay where we are and watch the members’ division. There are fourteen men in this division, and I recognize one of them as the guy who made the blow job comment to me.
I didn’t think it was possible, but this division is even more brutal than the prospects. Maybe it’s because these men just watched their friends die. I’m not sure, but when the Sinner steps into the ring, he screams out like an animal. His excitement evident.
When the crowd cheers, we have one champion in the members’ division, and he stands in the middle of the ring with his arms raised, eyes wild, and blood covering his chest and hands. A winner.
I take a deep breath, knowing Lucien’s division is next, and there are eight men total in his division. He won’t have to fight them all. They will be fighting for a chance to get at him. A chance to kill him. I tell myself that if they do it, then I won’t have to, but I know deep down that I don’t want to see him killed in that ring.
I look around the crowd, wondering where he is. I haven’t seen him, and I wonder how he’ll react when he sees me here. He didn’t tell me about this and he hasn’t brought me here, so maybe there’s a reason for that. He doesn’t want me here. He certainly didn’t want me to know about this.
“Holy shit! Did you see that? That was quick!” Mackenzie exclaims, and just like that, one of the presidents is lying on the mat. He’s alive, but barely.
I feel like a bug that is drawn to the light of a bug zapper. I know I shouldn’t look at it or go toward it, but I can’t fucking help it. Death and brutality is something that is horribly intriguing and seeing it happen right in front of you, one match after another, is like a car crash. You can’t look away no matter how hard you try to.
“He’s up,” Mackenzie says, nudging my arm. “Is it bad that I’m rooting for him when I should be rooting against him? I really hate the Rykers’ San Diego chapter.”
“I thought Warren was a Ryker?”
“He was a Ryker in Verdana. Their president’s father was over the San Diego chapter and was a fucking prick. He’s dead now, but that chapter didn’t change any of their rules. Maybe that’s why Warren is here and not there. If he wins, he’ll try to take over the Sinners, that’s for damn sure. Lucien is the lesser of the two evils.”
I watch him as he walks into the ring. His eyes don’t graze over the crowd, so he doesn’t see me. I think that’s a good thing. I don’t want him distracted. I want him focused.
I want him to win.
I need him to win.
Chapter Nineteen
Lucien
I’m not afraid of dying. If it’s my time to go, then I will welcome it. I knew going into this ring there was a possibility I would not walk out of it. It was a chance I was willing to take for my club.
I stare down at the ground, at the blood I’ve spit from my mouth. This fucker can hit, that’s for sure. Blood trickles down into my eye, and I wipe it away as best as I can. I feel as though I can barely breathe, but I’m not finished yet. It’s not my time to go tonight and not at the hand of this fucker. No fucking way.
I can see his bare feet getting closer, but I keep my head down. He’s limping, in nearly as bad of shape as I’m in. I clutch my ribs, almost positive that they’re simply bruised and not broken. That’s a good thing.
I wait until he gets a little closer, and then I push to stand, coming up with an uppercut as I do. I catch him underneath the chin, and he stumbles backward. I stay on him, not wanting to waste this opportunity.
My knuckles ache as my fists connect, but I don’t stop. I can’t. When he drops to his knees, I wrap my arm around his neck and tilt his head back ever so slightly, cutting off his oxygen supply.
His hands cling to my arm, gripping and clawing, but I tighten it, slowly suffocating him. My strength is waning, but he’s going down, and I’m going to the ground with him, choking him out.
I could simply let him pass out, but I don’t let him go until I know he’s taken his last breath and I hear the crowd cheer. I release him and roll onto my back in exhaustion, wincing in pain.
The Sinners rush into the ring, mainly to ensure that no retaliation is going to take place from the Rykers’ San Diego chapter. Reid and Warren lift me up, holding my hand up to signify my victory.
“Get me to the gym so I can clean up,” I instruct, not wanting the patrons here to see that I’m hurt more than they already have.
I’m limping and doing my best not to groan as Warren drapes my arm over his shoulders and leads me out of the ring. Once I’m in the gym, he leaves me, assuring me that he’ll keep a look out for me after making sure that I’m okay.
I strip down and step into the shower, grateful we have this set up out here. I didn’t want to fight my way through the crowd to get to the clubhouse. I stand underneath the hot water, rinsing the blood and dirt from my body. After I wash up, I grab a towel and dry off, then go sit on the weight bench, resting my back against the wall and draping the towel over my lap.
“You alright?”
I open my eyes and see Harper standing in the doorway. She closes it behind her and steps inside, walking over to me.
“I thought that was usually my line,” I reply.
She comes to sit beside me. “You didn’t tell me you were doing this.”
“You didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“Lucien‒”
“This is that side of me I was trying to protect you from, Harper. You have no business being here, seeing things like that. Seeing me like that.”
I look over to her, and she studies my face. She reaches her hand up and rubs her thumb over my lip, then up to my cheek.
“Shit, your bleeding,” she says and gets up. “Bathroom?”
I point around the corner, and she goes in. When she comes back, she has a wet washcloth and managed to find a band-aid. She stands in front of me, her legs between mine, as she cleans a cut above my eyebrow and puts the band-aid on it.
“You told me it was going to be Saturday before you saw me again,” she says, still standing. “You could’ve been killed tonight.”
“Yeah, well, I also told you I like to keep m
y word when I give it to someone, Harper.”
She laughs lightly, resting her hands on my shoulders. “I saw you being who the club needed you to be tonight,” she says, lowering herself down so that she’s straddling my lap. “Can you be who I need you to be now?”
Harper
I want to chase away this darkness I see written all over him. The only way I know how to do that is to be close to him. To wrap myself around him and allow him to get lost in me.
I might be confused about some things when it comes to him, but I’m not confused about what I want. From the moment we first met, he made me feel different. Said things to me that made me feel as though I was equal to him, not just a woman to be taken care of.
I sit on his lap, my legs dangling on the other side of the weight bench. He winces a little as I shift on him, but he doesn’t say a word. I know he isn’t the type to show me what kind of pain he’s in. I’m hoping I can soothe some of that for him.
I lift my shirt up and over my head, tossing it to the floor and baring my tits to him. My arms close around his neck and his hands skim down my chest, brushing his thumbs over my nipples and then down my belly and to my thighs. I wish I would’ve worn jeans, but Mackenzie convinced me to wear a skirt tonight. I suppose that works best for this moment.
“It’s okay to be both, Lucien,” I tell him. “Both light and dark.”
I know he struggles with that. He wants to be this good man for me while trying to balance the bad things he has to do. He can’t hide that from me. I already know he’s a bad man. He won’t change. I won’t change. We just continue to lie to each other, pretending that I don’t know who he really is, and he doesn’t know who I am.
Maybe he doesn’t. I stare at him, trying to figure out if he does. Does he know who he took away from me? When he’s this close to me, does he regret what he did? Does he wish he could take it all back?
Because I do.
If things could be different, if he could prove his innocence to me with more than just his words, then I could listen to my heart. I could listen to it telling me that I’m wrong. That he didn’t kill Gavin.
“Harper, you know who I am, don’t you?” he asks me, reaching his hands up to cup my face.
There it is. That question that has been lingering between us. The one that we’ve both ignored. We’ve both been dancing around it, avoiding the inevitable.
I try not to answer, try to draw his attention away from the conversation by brushing my lips across his. He lowers his hands and grips my wrists, pulling me back, his dark eyes boring into me.
“Tell me,” he orders. “You know, don’t you?”
His hold on me is tight, but not painful. He’s not going to let this go until I answer him. I knew eventually this would come out, just wasn’t expecting it so soon. How will he react when he finds out the truth about me?
“Yes,” I say, quietly.
I see his jaw clench. “You think I did it? You think I killed your old man?”
I’m not one hundred percent sure how to answer him on this. There are still so many secrets between us, and I can’t tell him those yet. Maybe I never can.
“I don’t want to,” I admit, “but yes, I believe you killed Gavin.”
I answer him, but the moment the words are out of my mouth, I instantly wondered if I told him the truth. Do I still believe that?
He loosens his grip on my wrists, letting them go. I rub them a moment and drop them down to rest on my thighs, unsure of what to do now. Is he rejecting me? Because that’s not really what I had planned. To be honest, I’m not sure exactly what I had planned, but I wanted to let him know that after what he went through tonight, that I was here for him.
“It doesn’t change a motherfucking thing, Harper,” he tells me. “I’m still going to fuck you.”
He pulls me forward, crashing his mouth to mine and rocking me over his cock. I’m instantly reminded that there’s only a towel and my panties between us. His thick erection rubs between my legs and I gasp against his lips.
Lucien’s fingertips grip my ass cheeks, bunching my skirt around my waist. He reaches further, grabbing my thong and tearing the material from my body.
My eyes fly open in shock, and he chuckles before kissing me again. His hands are warm on my bare skin. The cotton of the towel is almost rough against my clit. He moves me, keeping me rocking while he pushes his finger inside me.
“So fucking tight, baby,” he murmurs, moving his lips down to my neck. “That tight cunt is going to grip me like a vice.”
I feel the towel slipping, and I drop my hand between us to wrap it around his cock. I try not to think too much on how large he is as I stroke him. I rub the pre-cum beading on his tip over the head of his dick and down his shaft.
Lucien eases a second finger inside me, and I moan, moving my hand from his dick to hold onto his shoulders as I come. He cups my ass, his cock sliding between my folds in a teasing manner.
“Lucien, I should tell you something,” I whisper, feeling his tip slide in and then back out.
“Okay,” he mumbles, his mouth latching onto my nipple.
My head drops back, and I pant as he flicks his tongue over my nipple, then I scream out in pain as he thrust inside me. He jerks his head up, his eyes wide. A tear streaks down my cheek, and I try to catch my breath.
“Did I…were you…” he stammers, and I nod. “You were a virgin? I thought you had a daughter?”
“I can explain,” I tell him, and he shifts. I gasp, grasping his shoulders.
“You can explain later,” he growls, lust in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
He moves again, and I still feel a little pain, but not like before. “It hurts a little.”
He kisses my neck and moves up to my ear. “It won’t hurt long. I promise you, Harper. Start moving, just bounce, and even rock back and forth. It’ll get better, baby. Do I need to get a condom?”
“I’ve been on the pill since I was sixteen,” I answer him, mumbling about irregular periods which I’m sure he doesn’t want to know about. “But I don’t know. Maybe we shouldn’t. I mean, maybe you shouldn’t…you know.”
I don’t know if I can trust him. I know the type of women who come around the clubs. Hell, I just saw them outside. I don’t want to be stupid about this, about him.
“If you don’t want me to, I won’t, but Harper, you are mine, and I promise, I won’t hurt you. Not with any of those women.”
He leans back and clutches my hips. I swallow at how deep he feels inside me. At how right he feels inside me. I touch the tips of my toes to the floor and use that leverage to rise up a little and then lower myself down onto him.
I watch as his lips part and his eyelids lower in ecstasy. He was right. The more I move, the less it hurts. It feels fucking incredible, and in only a matter of seconds, I am good and truly fucking Lucien McNamara.
He groans beneath me, sucking my nipple and digging his fingertips into my ass cheeks. I loved how he ate my pussy at the diner, how in control he was, but I like this better. I like knowing that I am the one in control. I am setting the rhythm, the pace. I am the person eliciting the groans and growls from him.
“Harper,” he says, “I’m fucking close!”
I know he wants permission and I don’t want to deny him. I want to feel him come inside me. Damn the fucking consequences. Everything about this is wrong. We are completely wrong for each other.
But it feels so damn right!
“Yes, Lucien!”
He bites down on my shoulder, marking my skin as he comes, and I shatter around him, crying out as I follow right after him.
Chapter Twenty
Lucien
Harper’s head lulls on my shoulder, her breathing heavy against my neck. We both have a nice sheen of sweat on us, and I can feel my cum running out of her pussy and down my shaft.
I shift forward on the weight bench, feeling how my legs are somewhat sticking to the leather, and then stand with her in my arms. I car
ry her to the bathroom and straight to the shower.
I lower her to the floor, my dick sliding out of her as I do, and turn the water on. I hear her mumbling an apology and see that evidence of her innocence is on the inside of her thighs and coating my dick.
She turns away from me, seemingly embarrassed as she stands under the spray. I step to her, placing my hands on her hips and gently pulling her back against my chest. I don’t want her to be embarrassed, I want answers.
“Explain,” I demand, my voice slightly harsher than I want it to be.
She gives a light shrug, “Well, when a woman doesn’t have sex with a man, then she’s considered a virgin–”
“Harper,” I growl her name in warning.
“Fine,” she concedes, turning around to face me. “Gavin was always protective of me. He made it very difficult for me to date anyone, much less fuck someone. I’ve had my fair share of experience with the opposite sex but never the full experience.”
“How come he didn’t give you the full experience?” I ask her, and she makes a face.
“That would be a little gross considering he was my half-brother.”
Not much in life surprises me. Not after what I’ve witnessed with the Sinners and in prison. But this woman, she has surprised me.
“Your half-brother?” I sigh. “I was not expecting that. So the little girl?”
“Layla is his, but her mother is not in the picture. She never has been. I have no idea where she is now, but she ran off after Layla was born and has never had anything to do with her.”
I grab the bar of soap off the ledge and start lathering it in my hands, taking in this new information. I still believe she’s holding something else back, but I don’t know what it is or why. There can’t possibly be a secret bigger than that.
“You knew who I was this whole time?”
“Not the entire time, no,” she answers. “Did you know who I was?”