The Wild Man Who Stole Me: A Bad Boy Romance Novel

by London Casey

“Sure. Anything.”

  Noah took out a gun and put it on the counter.

  My heart skipped a beat.

  “Look at me, Penny,” he said.

  I looked into his eyes. The warrior, the beast, the man who took care of me last night.

  “Come on,” Seth said. “Don’t torture her, Noah. Just get the information and pass her along.” Seth then grabbed his stomach and made a line out of the kitchen for the bathroom. “Fuck… my stomach…”

  Noah then pointed to the gun. He leaned down and put his lips to my ear. “You have to shoot me.”

  Chapter 14

  (Noah)

  “You have to shoot me,” I said again. “Right now. One chance.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Penny asked.

  “You shoot me and you leave. Steal my car. I can then face Marcos with a sense of honesty. Find out what he knows about you and why. To try and make sense of what’s going on here.”

  “What’s going on?” Penny asked. She stood up. “I’m supposed to write a story about underground fighting. That’s my job. Okay? I get the oddball stuff. I once went undercover as a homeless person to understand their lives. I worked in a strip club to experience that life. I did the same thing with prostitution.”

  “Maybe that’s why you seem so familiar to me,” Seth said as he came out of the bathroom.

  “Hey,” I growled. “Easy, man.”

  I fucking hated that Seth had shown up. He called me when he was a minute away. He was in a panic that he lost Penny. He remembered nothing of the night, which was good. As far as Seth knew, he’d gotten drunk and knocked himself out. He was still half in and out of it.

  “Here’s the thing,” I said. I tried to keep my distance from Penny to not give anything away about she and I. She and I? What the fuck did that mean? “This isn’t just about a story. Your boss is pushing you to follow me. To follow us.” I pointed to Seth. “This is bigger than a story. And if Marcos is jumping to kill you…”

  “It’s dirty,” Seth said. “And I want to know what it means just as much as Noah does.”

  “So I do what?” Penny asked. “I shoot you and run?”

  “You take off,” I said. “I’ll get in touch from there. I want to see what Marcos does and says. You need to go to your boss and kill the story. See what he says.”

  Penny looked confused. “What is…”

  I put my hand to the counter and slid the gun toward her. “Do it. Because if you don’t, I can’t protect you.”

  Seth pushed from the counter and finished his coffee. “Okay. I’m going to run down the street and get a newspaper. Take a shit. Find some meds for this hangover headache. I’ll come back and be amazed that you’re shot.”

  Penny watched Seth leave the apartment. The second the door shut, Penny grabbed for me. I jumped back, not wanting to get too close to Penny.

  “I’m not doing this.”

  “Yes you are,” I said. “This is our only chance at surviving this. I need information, Penny. You’re wanted dead by my people and I’m wanted by your people.”

  “It’s a story…”

  “But it’s not just a story,” I said. “You have to realize that. You want to write a story? Write it. You want to track down what happened to your father? That’s fine. But you said your boss is paying you in cash to follow me. That’s a big red flag for me.”

  “Fine then,” she said. “I’ll just say no to you.”

  I took a deep breath, not wanting this to end up like it was.

  I wasn’t in the fucking mood. I wanted to eat. I wanted to go to the gym and lift stuff and punch stuff. I wanted to forget everything that had happened. But I couldn’t rewind time and change anything.

  “I’m going to say this once,” I said. I reached for the gun. I put it in the palm of my hand. “Someone is getting shot right now. Either you or me.”

  Penny swallowed. She was scared. I understood it.

  She reached out and touched the gun. Her hand was shaking. “Okay. Where do you want me to shoot you?”

  “Try to keep your hand steady,” I said. “Aim for my right shoulder, just in case you get jumpy. A bullet through my heart is no good for us.”

  “Your boss is going to believe this?” she asked.

  “I’ll tell him you shot me and I flew back and hit the wall, getting knocked out. What matters is that you take off. Get away from me and away from this. Talk to your boss and then find a way out of it all.”

  “So this is it?” Penny asked, lifting the gun.

  “What did you expect? A marriage proposal? I let you sleep in my bed. I held you. I listened to the story about your father. We’re good now.”

  “Christ… you’re an asshole.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “Stop chasing down memories, Penny. Your father is dead. I’m sorry he’s dead. Forget everything about fighting. I’m not a warrior. I’m not a beast. I’m not some powerful and honorable guy. This isn’t about freedom. This is how I survive and how I stay underground and wait for my time to die. End of discussion.”

  “I don’t believe any of that,” Penny said.

  “Just pull the fucking trigger and get the fuck out of my apartment.”

  I braced myself and watched Penny’s eyes. She bit her bottom lip, making me think of last night. Of my hands all over her. Of my lips tasting her neck, her tits, between her legs.

  I didn’t want her to leave.

  That alone was reason enough for me to get shot.

  There were a few long seconds that lingered between me and Penny.

  “Hurry,” I whispered.

  “No changing your mind?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “At least I asked.”

  Penny pulled the trigger.

  The bullet drove me back and I hit the wall. My ears hurt worse than my shoulder… for about ten seconds.

  Penny dropped the gun and covered her mouth.

  I grabbed my right shoulder and groaned. The pain was fucking intense. I looked at my shoulder and she had gotten me good. Really good. I wouldn’t die. I wouldn’t lose an arm or anything. But… fuck… it hurt.

  “Noah,” Penny said.

  “You need to take the gun,” I said. “So you have protection.”

  “No,” she said. “I’m not touching that fucking thing again. What did I just do?”

  “Honey, it’s fine. It’s to save yourself. Believe me, you don’t want to be involved with Marcos or Seth. I’m sorry, okay?”

  Penny stepped back, nodding. She reached for the door and hesitated. She bit her bottom lip again and then ran toward me.

  I leaned against the wall, moving my shoulder, making sure there was blood on the wall. I had to find a way to play this out now.

  Penny walked to me and grabbed my face. “Thank you, Noah.”

  “Yeah, right. Just save yourself, Penny. You have no idea the world you’re entering.”

  She leaned in and kissed me. Twice. I had to turn my head when I felt the tip of her tongue touch my lips.

  “Go,” I said.

  “You have to call me,” she said. “I have to know what’s happening.”

  “There’s a phone in your bag,” I said. “There’s one number programmed into it. If I don’t answer your call, there’s a reason. Understand?”

  “Okay.” She kissed my cheek. “Does it hurt?”

  “There’s a bullet in my shoulder,” I said. “Do you really have to ask that?”

  Penny smiled. “Okay. Sorry. I’m leaving.”

  She walked to the door.

  “Penny,” I said.

  She looked back. “Yeah?”

  “The keys are on the counter.”

  “Right.”

  She grabbed my keys and took off.

  When the door shut, I put my head back and groaned. I slid down the wall and sat there, bleeding. Now I had to wait for Seth to find me. Then he and I could figure this out, approach Marcos, and see who was really behind this story bullshit. />
  The funny thing was I always told myself that I’d eventually get the wrong woman and she’d end up shooting me. I never thought it would actually happen… and happen with someone who could be the right woman.

  Chapter 15

  (Penny)

  I drove and held back the tears. I think I was in some state of total shock. I had just shot someone. Not someone but… Noah. I shot Noah. I mean, he asked me to do it. It made sense what he wanted to try and do here. Was I too obsessed with my father’s death to see the truth? Andy always gave me the weird stories to work on. When he brought up the fighting thing, it seemed fun. I had been going to fights for a while, trying to understand it. Trying to find out what my father had been doing there. What he got out of it. Why he ended up dead on the floor.

  Christ, he had been left there. Beaten to death.

  How many punches did it take to kill someone? Was he awake the entire time? Or maybe the first punch knocked him out and he didn’t feel a thing after that.

  My hands gripped the top of the steering wheel as the tears escaped my eyes.

  Noah was the first person to hold me and it felt okay. It felt good. He was the first person I said something to about my father. Even my closest friend, another writer, named Dani, didn’t know the whole story about my father, my family, or my life. To her I was just out having fun, drinking, sleeping around, writing stories, and trying to carve out a niche to nestle in for the rest of my life.

  I thought about Andy and the story. I brought him a rough draft weeks ago with the overall idea of the underground fighting thing. The setup. The people there. The bets. The drinks. The atmosphere. I had written it as though the reader could feel themselves standing in the crowd, watching a fight. Andy said he needed it more personal. He wanted to capture it from the eyes of a fighter. I thought it was a good idea but said it would take me time to get my angle.

  He gave me cash that day.

  Cash.

  He said it was important and to use the money for whatever I needed.

  I had been given money before to do stories. Reimbursements for hotels and travel, but this was a lot of cash. Far more than I would need to write a story. And I didn’t ask for it.

  Andy pushed me… and pushed me…

  “Christ,” I whispered.

  I sucked in a breath and wiped my tears away.

  Noah had been right. This wasn’t about a story. I had no idea what it was actually about though. It had nothing to do with me. I was just the writer. The investigator. Whatever you wanted to call me.

  I took a right down a back road, my intention to find a place to get a fresh coffee and then go see Andy. I would have to explain why I had Noah’s car and that I needed to know what was really happening. Try and scare Andy by seeing what I went through the night before.

  I heard a beep and looked up to see police lights behind me.

  My jaw dropped and my foot moved off the accelerator.

  What the hell was I supposed to do now? I was driving a car I stole from a man I shot. How do I explain that?

  I couldn’t run. No way.

  I slowed down and pulled to the side of the road. I opened the glovebox and told myself to just go with it. Tell the officer a simple story. I’m going to get coffee. I slept at a friend’s house - yeah, he was a guy and yeah, we had sex… is that a crime? - and I offered to go get coffee because he had too much to drink and he was hungover.

  What’s his name? Noah. Here, look at the registration and insurance. Oh, my license? Yeah, I have that right in my bag. Nothing going on here.

  I had it in my mind and it sounded good.

  I was happy I didn’t take the gun.

  My hair was a little messy from sleep and my breath was a little funky from the morning. My story was rock solid. Just as long as there wasn’t anything strange about the car. Or Noah.

  I looked in the mirror as the officer approached. Strange, he wasn’t in a police officer’s uniform. Instead, he was in jeans and wore a leather jacket. His right hand peeled his jacket away far enough that I could see a badge and a gun.

  He got to the window and I looked up at him. He had a rough looking face, a big chin, and a little scar on his cheek. He took his sunglasses off.

  I instantly didn’t trust him.

  Fuck.

  “Do you know why I stopped you?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “I stopped at the stop sign. Did I forget my turn signal? If I did, I’m sorry. I’m actually going to get some coffee. I slept over…”

  He leaned down. “Shut the fuck up.”

  “What?”

  His eyes turned beady and evil. “I know what you did…”

  Chapter 16

  (Noah)

  I looked to my left and saw Marcos pacing, hands on his hips, suit jacket flaring out behind him like a cape. Seth leaned against Marcos’s desk, coffee in hand, staring at the floor. He was probably still drunk from the night before.

  A hot pain seared through my shoulder and down my arm.

  “Hang tight,” a voice said. “I’ve… got it…”

  I shut my eyes and saw Penny on my bed. Her hands clutched for my arms, shoulders, scratching at my back. The way she hooked her ankles behind me, pulling at me, demanding more.

  Fuck.

  I heard a metal clank sound and I turned my head. The doctor sat there, glasses down on the tip of his nose. He put a small tray on my stomach and gave me a smile.

  “There,” he said. “There’s the bullet.”

  My shoulder looked destroyed. I wiggled my fingers and made a fist. I still have movement and feeling. It hurt, but I was going to be okay.

  “You’ll be fine,” he said. “Thankfully whoever did this picked a good spot for you.”

  “There’s good spots to get shot?” I asked.

  The doctor looked at me. “Better than your heart or your brain.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “How long, doc?” Marcos yelled.

  “I just need to patch him up,” the doctor said. “You, uh, have my payment?”

  Marcos opened his desk drawer and put cash on it. He then added a second stack, smaller, and said, “This is so you don’t hear the conversation we’re about to have.”

  “What?” the doctor asked with a grin.

  It still amazed me as to the many people who were involved with Marcos, with the fights, with all the bad stuff in the world. It just proved that everyone not only had their demons, but most people enjoyed their demons. This doctor probably had a successful career. A nice house. Tons of money. Maybe a nice family. But here he was, pulling a bullet out of my shoulder. For extra cash. For some fun and a thrill.

  “What the fuck happened?” Marcos asked as he stopped pacing behind his desk.

  “She shot me,” I said. “This is all my fault, Marcos. Kill me, man. I deserve it.”

  “I just paid ten grand to have a bullet pulled from your goddamn shoulder,” Marcos said. “I’m not killing you, Noah.” He looked at Seth. “I’m thinking about killing you.”

  “The woman thing,” Seth said. “You know how it is for me. I’m sorry. I did what you said. I grabbed her. I held her. I smacked her around. You got the picture, right?”

  “Yeah,” Marcos said. “What did she have to say?”

  Seth looked at me.

  “I got nothing out of her,” I said. “She insists she’s just some reporter. Digging up shit on fighting. I don’t understand what the hell…”

  “Explain this to me again,” Marcos said. “I tell Seth to kidnap this woman and she ends up in your apartment, Noah. And then she shoots you and flees?”

  “I was cleaning up after the fight,” I said. “Truthfully, I was waiting for someone. I kind of had a thing going with a woman. She never showed up. I heard a sound and went to check on it. I went to the office and found Seth on the floor, out cold. There was a broken bottle. A woman tied to a chair. Her face was bleeding. When I took the cloth out of her mouth, she started to scream. So I, you know
, shut her up.”

  “Good for you,” Marcos said. “Sometimes women need a hand to understand their position.”

  I felt my heart climb into my throat. Sometimes I wanted to hit Marcos.

  “I started to put the pieces together. So I took her with me. I didn’t know what to do, Marcos. I checked Seth’s phone and saw what he sent you. Seth was out cold, sleeping by then. So I left him.”

  “You left him,” Marcos said.

  I sighed. I felt the doctor pulling at my shoulder. It fucking hurt.

  “I shouldn’t have left him,” I said. “But I was pissed off. The drinking thing, man, I just… I don’t deal with drunks. He was supposed to do a job for you and he gets drunk?”

  “Thanks for throwing me under the bus,” Seth said.

  “He’s right,” Marcos said.

  “What the fuck?” Seth asked. “You know how I get with that shit. Nothing happened. She…”

  Seth looked at me.

  We had let her go. On purpose. To get information and come back to us.

  “That was our woman,” Marcos said. “Something bad is going down. She was the leverage. They key to it. She’s been at two dozen fights this year alone. Buys a couple drinks, looks around way too much, then disappears.”

  “You’ve got the resources to find her,” I said.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Marcos said.

  “Hey,” Seth said, “maybe she’ll get the hint. You fuck with us, you get kidnapped and smacked around.”

  I forced a smile.

  The doctor put a hand to my shoulder and pressed a little too much.

  I opened my mouth to tell the guy to fuck off.

  Marcos opened his drawer and took out a gun.

  My reaction time was zero.

  Marcos put the gun to the back of Seth’s head and pulled the trigger.

  The first time I met Seth he asked me if I had ever seen someone shot. I hadn’t. He then described to me how his father was killed. His old man owed Marcos twenty grand from some bad gambling decisions and couldn’t pay up. Seth figured the money owed was only around five grand, but Marcos had added his interest and fees, jacking it up to twenty because why the fuck not? It was the fourth time Marcos was looking for the money. There was no other choice but to be killed. Seth’s father even tried to offer Seth up as some kind of payment.