FIGHT(A Bad Boy MMA Romantic Suspense Novel)
Page 2
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The two thugs threw me into my apartment, literally. They cackled as they walked away. I was on the floor for a few seconds before I jumped up and dusted myself off. They left a piece of paper on the floor behind me.
I knew the general direction of the address.
It was a few miles south. There really wasn’t anything good about the area. It was a heavy crime area, some of it organized, some of it controlled by a motorcycle club through numbers and muscle. I couldn’t figure out what Aldo would have wanted down there though. He had more power than anyone. He had more muscle. Christ, if he needed a woman protected, he could have just given the orders to have her taken and hidden somewhere. He could put her up in a house, a cabin, fuck, a different goddamn country.
But he chose me.
Maybe a part of me wanted to be excited. I mean, a protection call from Aldo. That was something like a promotion in my line of business. I could handle this stuff. Keeping people alive. Fighting those who got in my way. But there was always a darker side of it.
Murder.
There was always murder. Everywhere.
I stood there, staring at the address.
This wasn’t a fucking promotion. This was a punishment. Aldo was sending me into this so I’d get killed. That’s what it was. That’s what my fate came down to. Any other guy who lost a fight would get a bullet to the head.
Me?
I was being pushed into a protection run that made no fucking sense.
I grabbed my leather jacket, my keys, and left the apartment.
As I rode into a real shady part of the town, I looked for the address. To my complete shock, the address was a freaking coffeehouse. It was about a quarter mile from the real dark part of town. Right on the cusp of stepping from shit into true hell.
I parked my car and went into the coffeehouse. The smell was overwhelming. Everything in the place was mismatched and probably bought from yard sales and shit, but it actually worked. The vibe was a messy kind of chill place.
There were a handful of people sitting around. Some sipping coffee. Some reading books. A couple people just sitting there with earbuds in, listening to music, staring out the window. It made me wonder what world they lived in, you know? To throw on some tunes and disappear.
“Can I help you?”
I spun around and looked at the woman behind the counter. She was fucking beautiful. Naturally beautiful. Dirty blonde hair cheaply pulled back with a few chunks left dangling to the sides of her face. She wore not a spot of makeup, leaving her looking like she just rolled out of bed. I was a sucker for a woman like that. There was nothing like the pure beauty of woman. One who could just throw on some clothes and go for the day.
Her eyes were a crystal clear blue that took me back for a second. Her lips were a little thin, but had such a unique shape to them, I instantly pictured running my finger along them, tracing them. Better yet, using my tongue.
I snapped myself back to reality.
Christ, I needed to get laid. And soon.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
My eyes scanned down. I had no choice. Her breasts were perfect. Pressing against the black shirt she wore, leaving nothing for the imagination because it was easy to see she had been blessed in that department. Besides that, she had a name tag on.
Winter.
“Eyes up here,” she muttered.
“Yeah, sorry,” I said. “I’m actually looking for you.”
She put her hands to her hips. The subtle curves of her body made my fingers twitch.
“Excuse me?”
I put my hands on the counter and leaned forward. “I’m looking for you, darling.”
“Why?”
“I’m Tripp. I’m supposed to keep you alive.”
The color dropped from her face. She stepped back from the counter and bumped into a stack of mugs. They jangled together and she spun to keep them from falling.
My eyes scanned at her back now. Her shirt pulled up just enough to show a sliver of skin. Her jeans did wonders for her ass. I became instantly jealous of her back pockets, wanting to slip my hands into them.
Then I reminded myself something.
She’s a fucking widow, man. Remember what Aldo said. And someone out there wants to kill her.
Winter looked over her shoulder. Hair in her face, one of her blue eyes shining through it. “Give me a sec.”
She then charged down the counter and disappeared.
A few seconds later she came out of a side door. When she hurried toward me, her breasts bounced so freely. I gritted my teeth with my mouth shut, demanding myself to keep my eyes on her face, which didn’t help much because of how beautiful she was.
“Here,” she said and pointed to a table. “Sit, please.”
I grabbed a chair and spun it around. I straddled the chair.
“Do you want a coffee or something?”
“No,” I said. “You work here?”
“Sometimes. My friend owns the place. I live out back.”
“Out back?”
“There’s a converted garage. Better than being in the clubhouse.”
“The clubhouse?”
“Yeah. Red Aces MC.”
“Fucking hell,” I said. “You’re with the MC?”
“Yeah. Didn’t… whoever sent you tell you that?”
“No. I didn’t get much of anything. Other than you’re a widow and I have to make sure you don’t end up dead.”
Winter sucked in a breath. “Wow. That’s bold.”
“Sorry, darling. That’s how I work. So who is out to kill you?”
Winter blinked fast. “Uh, well, I… I’m not sure.”
“That helps. You shouldn’t even be in this area right now.”
“That’s why you’re here, right?”
“Bullshit,” I said. “If it were up to me, you’d be out of here right now. When does your shift here end?”
“I’m not really on the clock,” Winter said. “I just had to get away from it all.” She leaned across the table to whisper. “All they do is drink and talk about revenge. Then they look at me funny, you know? Like maybe I’m the problem. Or maybe they all want to fuck me, since I’m free game now. The sad thing is… if one of them wanted to… I probably would. Out of necessity.”
A weak smile flickered across her face and faded. I noticed when she spoke she had the smallest of gaps between her front two teeth. For whatever reason, it drove me goddamn wild. I balled my hands into fists.
“That’s not going to happen,” I said. “You’re not fucking anyone while I’m protecting you. What I need you to do is show me where you live and tell me everything you know.”
Winter pointed to my fists. “What happened to your hands?”
I looked at the roughed up scabs. I flexed my knuckles a few times. “A fight.”
“I noticed your face and jaw looked swollen.”
I stood up. “You should’ve seen the other guy. Let’s move.”
Winter pushed from the table. She stood up. I moved closer to her, realizing that she barely came up to my chest. So much shorter than me. Her heart obviously broken. In need of protection. Somewhere inside her, desperate to have the touch of a man.
Fuck. I was in big trouble. Aldo should have just shot me in the head.
6.
(Winter)
He smelled like a man, looked like a man, and threatened every desire my body had. His shoulders pressed hard against his shirt, his arms filling the short sleeves with ease. He was rough, tough, maybe even a little dirty, but not like the guys in the Red Aces. They were designed to look the way they did. Wearing leather cuts, patches that had different meanings and positions.
Not Tripp.
He looked bold and reckless.
Just what I needed.
I led the way out of the back of the coffeehouse, feeling him just inches behind me. A few times, I wondered what would happen if I just stopped walking. If he
’d crash into me, his hands at my hips.
Shit.
I side stepped and waited for Tripp to walk at my side. I pointed to the garage.
“That’s my palace.”
“Bigger than mine,” he said. “You don’t feel more protected at the clubhouse?”
“I didn’t say that,” I said. “I just don’t want to be there. All they do is talk. Trying to think of every person that ever did anything wrong to them. Trying to drag my past into it all.”
“What’s wrong with your past?”
I slipped a key into the door and unlocked it. “Doesn’t matter.”
I turned the doorknob and Trip put his hand to mine and squeezed. I looked up at him. His eyes were a dark, wild brown color. His face had a little scruff on it. He was a complete and total bad ass looking man.
“It does matter,” he said. “I’ve never done this before, darling. I’m a fighter, okay? My job is to beat the shit out of someone and earn money. I’m not meant to do this protection stuff. It’s not just your life on the line here. Got it?”
I slowly nodded. “Fair enough. Then I guess I’ll have to be an open book.”
Tripp took his hand away. I opened the door and we went inside.
I flicked on the light and screamed.
At first all I saw was a guy sitting on the arm of the couch, a gun on his lap.
Then I felt someone push me.
I went flying to the left, hitting a wall, a wild pain jolting through my shoulder and arm. My eyes filled with tears.
I saw Tripp lunge forward, fist ready.
Before I could do anything, Tripp attacked.
The guy on the couch was Harlan. But Tripp didn’t know that. He tackled Harlan over the back of the couch. Harlan’s gun fell to the floor, which was probably a good thing. I heard the sound of punches being exchanged and then the men were both standing.
“Stop!” I yelled.
Harlan and Tripp faced each other. Harlan was in his leather cut, fists balled tight. But he didn’t protect himself. I thought about what Tripp had said.
I’m a fighter…
Tripp had his fists up and moved in. The punches were fast, hard, and effective. A punch to the face sent Harlan’s head snapping back. Then punch, punch to the ribs and Harlan let out a groan. He leaned forward and Tripp cocked back another fist.
It was kind of sexy to see Tripp moving like that. He was absolutely gorgeous.
But I couldn’t let him kill Harlan.
I jumped up on the couch and grabbed for Tripp’s arm. I locked mine around his and said, “He’s not a bad guy! He’s part of the MC!”
“Fuck, bro,” Harlan groaned, his nose bleeding and stuffy. “What the fuck?”
Tripp looked at me. He looked at Harlan. He then shook me away and backed up from Harlan. But he didn’t stand down. He kept his guard up.
“Harlan, what the hell are you doing?” I asked. I climbed over the couch.
He stood and wiped his nose. Then he grabbed his side. “What the fuck are you, man? A boxer?”
“Protector,” Tripp said.
Ohmyfuckinggod, how sexy.
“He’s here to protect me,” I said. “Stoney said he was coming. Didn’t you know?”
“Yeah, we heard,” Harlan said. “I was here just in case, Winter. That’s all.”
“You had a gun.”
“For you,” Harlan said. “So you could protect yourself.”
I felt Tripp creep up next to me. “She doesn't need to protect herself right now. I’m here.”
Harlan stared Tripp down. “I don’t know who you think you are, man. But my leather cut…”
“Want to go again?” Tripp asked.
“Jesus Christ,” Harlan said. “I’m not the bad guy here. She was left stranded. I was just helping out.”
“Being in her place with the lights off and scaring her is not helping,” Tripp said.
“I was just bringing her a gun.”
“I have a gun,” Tripp said.
“What?” I asked.
Tripp reached back and pulled a gun from… nowhere. “I can take it all from here. Go back to your MC and find out who is after Winter.”
“We’re working on it,” Harlan said. He sucked in a breath and wiped his nose again. Then he looked at me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“Who is your President?” Tripp asked. “I’d like to meet him. Find out all I can.”
“Really?” Harlan asked. “You’re just going to walk in here and demand things from us?”
“You obviously can’t do your job,” Tripp said.
Harlan’s eyes went wide. He then reached behind his back and pulled out a gun. He lifted it.
“Harlan!” I yelled.
“It’s fine,” Tripp said. He put his gun down on my dining room table. Then he stepped forward. Reaching for Harlan’s gun, he lifted it to his own chest, right to his heart. “Make it count, buddy.”
I could see Harlan’s cheeks turning red. He was big, he acted tough, but I wasn’t sure he could fight his way out of a paper bag.
Harlan lowered the gun. “Fuck.”
“Harlan, go,” I said. “Go back to the clubhouse. Tell Stoney that Tripp is here, okay?”
I walked Harlan to the door and he left. I shut the door and locked it. I put my forehead against the door and wanted to cry. But I had too much adrenaline running through my body to cry.
“Hey.”
I cried out and jumped.
I turned and had my back against the door.
Tripp was right there, inches from me.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s just a lot at once. That’s all.”
Tripp slowly reached forward and pulled at a loose strand of my hair. It clung between my lips, annoying me. He tucked it behind my ear.
“I’m here now,” he whispered. “I’m going to protect you.”
I nodded.
I believed Tripp. I almost instantly trusted him.
Maybe because I was just so alone. And not because Rocky was dead. I had been alone long before that. Of course, all of this Tripp didn’t know about.
Yet.