Strike (The Beat and The Pulse #10)

by Amity Cross

  I snorted and downed a mouthful of beer.

  “You do know how you feel about her?” she prodded. “Storm?”

  “I’m not sure it matters.”

  Her expression fell, and she shook her head. Lori was still disappointed in me, and I felt bad she’d come all this way.

  “I want to shake the shit out of you,” she declared angrily. “You’re so fucking dumb.”

  To add insult to injury, I shrugged.

  “One day, you’re going to regret not fighting, Storm,” she said before standing and walking away. “You’re going to regret it big-time.”

  21

  Callie

  Watching as a pair of builders hammered the last nail into The Fitzroy Cake Company, I smiled. It was halfhearted considering how things had gone the day before.

  Mark hadn’t taken the news of my job offer very well. He’d pushed me toward it and practically shut down in the face of it all. If he didn’t want me to go, he hadn’t said. My heart had cracked a little under the pressure, and disappointment had flared the moment he’d walked out. He hadn’t even tried to convince me to stay. Amsterdam is a really long way from here? Pfft!

  “What do you think?” Ray asked, standing beside me. The builder assigned to the job by my insurance company had been a complete star. He’d consulted with me the entire time, and what he and his team had produced was nothing short of amazing.

  “It’s exactly how I envisioned it,” I replied. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He patted me on the shoulder. “We have a few things to clean up, and then we’ll be out of your hair. Good luck with your opening, Callie.”

  I smiled and thanked him again. Retreating into the kitchen, I ducked through the plastic sheeting that had been tacked to the wall to keep dust from floating into the food prep area. With a week to go, there was still a lot to do. My staff would be coming in on Tuesday to begin baking and training for the opening on the following Saturday. Before then, there was a lot of cleaning to do, boxes to unpack, advertising to track. The works.

  And I had to make a decision about Hector Vanderhall.

  I was actually considering taking it after yesterday’s disastrous conversation with Mark. If he didn’t want to take me seriously, then what was holding me back? There was only so much I could do for a guy like him before he had to do some of the work himself.

  Oh, Mark… Why couldn’t you just give me a chance to love you? I could, you know.

  “Hello?”

  I glanced up to find a woman peering around the plastic sheet, her blue hair taking me by surprise.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, frowning. People off the street walking into a closed shop wasn’t exactly kosher, and I tensed.

  “Yeah, sorry. Your builder let me in. Sorry to barge in like this.” She flailed through the drop sheet and smiled. “I’m Lori. I know Storm.”

  I blinked, totally confused for a split second. I didn’t know him by that name, but he’d told me all about it. The Underground, his broken arm, his only means for supporting himself financially. I knew all about it…and didn’t like it one bit.

  “Mark?” I asked. “What…” That was when I realized who was standing in my kitchen. Lori. The Lori. Mark’s ex.

  “I didn’t really want to meet like this, but I’m worried about him,” she said.

  I raked my gaze over her and couldn’t believe how different she was to me. Bright blue hair, nose piercing, and so many tattoos peeking out of hems and necklines I wondered if her entire body was covered. And what a body it was. Slim, athletic, big boobed, pretty eyes, smooth skin. Mark had been with someone like her? Why was he ever interested in me?

  “You’re worried about him?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. “The woman he cheated on?”

  “It’s a long story.” She shrugged. “He only recently came back into my life.”

  “You’re not helping,” I drawled, jealousy rising hot and fast. “What’s this about? Are you starting something with him again, and this is a shakedown? I thought he said you’d moved on.”

  Lori laughed like I’d told the funniest joke she’d ever heard and shook her head. “No way. I’m so taken with another guy it’s not funny. I’m here because I want Storm to be happy.”

  “Why?”

  “Let’s just say, he treated me like shit on his shoe, but I’m still here sticking up for him when he’s all but given up. Not to toot my own horn or anything but wow. Forgiveness from someone like me is a real indicator, you know?”

  “What’s this got to do with me?”

  “He thinks he’s already lost you,” she stated.

  I stared at her, my expression falling. “What?”

  “He was at The Underground last night,” she explained. “First time in a while, and he was a mess. The bastard in him was out in full force.” She made a face. “Man, can he lay it on thick. Listen, I know this is completely fucking twisted, me coming here, but Storm… He doesn’t believe in himself anymore. He’s just given up trying to fight. He’s going to let you go to Amsterdam without even telling you how he feels because he’s stuck in this stupid cycle of self-punishment. I don’t know you, but the look in his eyes when he spoke about you…” She sighed. “I’ve never seen him look like that.”

  I was frozen to the spot, unable to speak, think, or even move to save myself.

  “I guess the short version is I came here to beg for you to fight for him. If I, of all people, can turn around and do that for the guy who broke my heart… Shit.”

  This was so messed up. My throat burned with unshed tears, and I swallowed, attempting to sooth the ache. Was this how our romance was supposed to go? Callie Winslow, the pants of the operation. A sexy, buff cage fighter with an enormous chip in his heart needed me, the cupcake glitter queen to save him?

  Stranger shit had happened, I suppose. Like almost being burned alive and being saved by the guy who was too afraid to love in case he inadvertently destroyed someone’s life. Yeah, real fucking weird.

  “Would you tell me about him?” I asked. “I know the pieces he’s shown me, but I can’t help but feel it’s only a small selection…”

  Lori smiled. “What has he told you?”

  “Well,” I began, leaning against the bench where Mark and I had our quickie the day before. “He told me about The Underground and how he fights there. I’m not impressed, by the way. He told me about the kind of man he was back then and how he was selected for the UFC. He told me about the…you know.”

  “He said you’d told him you believed his side of things,” she said.

  “Yeah, but it was like pulling teeth to get any of this out of him.”

  “That’s Storm in a teacup,” she said with a wink.

  “Very punny.” I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide the stupid smile from appearing on my face. Despite myself, I was beginning to like Lori. A lot.

  “He’s difficult to get to know,” she said. “But I can see you’ve already found that out. He’s made a lot of mistakes, but he’s done what he can to make up for them. We had ended before he went overseas, so a few years ago now, but after he’d come back, he sought me out to apologize. For a guy like him, full of bravado, it was a big deal. He’s been through some shit, but he’s grown because of it. I hardly recognize him.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “It’s a very good thing. He’s just got to believe it.”

  I leaned back against the bench, my head spinning. Looked like I had to make my decision right now, but what was I supposed to do?

  Okay, Callie, think.

  If I took the job, I would be working for someone else. If I stayed, I would be working for no one else but me. I would be in charge of my little piece of heaven, my slice of the pie. It mightn’t be very large, but it was mine. I built it on my own with no outside help or stepping-stones or even a celebrity endorsement.

  I never wanted a big life. All I ever wanted was something to call my own…and someone to share it with
.

  And just like that, I made my decision.

  “I’ll go to his place,” I blurted, standing tall, my gaze searching for my handbag. “I’ll make him see…”

  “Hell, yeah!” Lori watched me with a strange smile on her face. “But I don’t think he’ll be there.”

  “Then where would he be?” I halted my frantic searching.

  “It’s highly likely he’ll be at The Underground again. I can take you if you like.”

  “The Underground?” I asked with a squeak. She wanted me to dive headfirst into a den full of criminals and violent cage fighters to proclaim my feelings for Mark? I felt like shitting my pants.

  “Make or break, Callie.” She tilted her head to the side and gestured at the door.

  Was I now in the same position Mark was when he was offered that spot in the UFC? I didn’t have a crystal ball, but I did know I didn’t want to play in the big leagues.

  In a way, I suppose Mark had taken a leap of faith when he’d turned up to explain the story about the ring girl. I could have thrown him out again, but he’d bared the most painful and humiliating experience he’d ever been through in hopes I would give him another chance. He didn’t have anything else, and he’d chosen the hope of what we could be. I had no idea what he saw in me, but if I chickened out now, I would never know at all.

  I glanced at Lori. “Who would have thought a pair of sad, chocolate-colored eyes could have started all of this.”

  “Love sucks, right?” she asked with a wink.

  “Big-time.”

  Lori gave me a ride to The Underground and practically held my hand as we walked into the warehouse in Abbotsford, just north of the city center.

  The sky was darkening as we approached, which seemed to signal the starting time for the debauchery within. People were streaming into the building, and I was shocked at the scale. A couple of hundred bodies were crammed inside along with the very professional looking bar, betting area, and digital noticeboard that listed all the fights happening that night.

  Shit, even women fought in the cage! My eyeballs were practically popping out of my head.

  “Mark fights here?” I asked, tugging on Lori’s arm. “How does this place even stay open? Don’t the cops try to shut it down?”

  “Nah,” she replied. “With the amount of money being thrown around here, some of it conveniently gets tossed into a couple of choice bank accounts.”

  “You’re talking about bribes, right?”

  She winked. “Bingo.”

  Staring at the cage, which was being cleared for the next fight, I stared at the splatter stains on the concrete and swallowed a pile of vomit. That had to be old blood. The entire structure was made out of plain old chain link, and there was no padding in sight.

  “I don’t like it,” I said, wrapping my arms around my waist. “This whole place…”

  “It’s pretty confronting,” Lori said in agreement. “I worked the bar here for about three years. That’s how I met Storm…and Hamish. I got out almost two years ago now.”

  “Why?”

  “A variety of reasons. The bar manager tried to rape me for one.”

  My mouth fell open, but she wasn’t looking at me. Her gaze was raking the crowd, searching for Mark, aka Storm.

  A voice boomed over the speakers as a fight was announced between two guys with weird names—Sabre and Boom. As the fight got underway, I stared in shock as the two men brawled. Fists smacked into faces, they wrestled on the ground, and they collided with the chain link, all while the crowd on the surrounding bleachers screamed for blood.

  This was what Mark did here? Remembering the black eye and more recently, his broken arm, I felt vomit percolating in my gut. This is what he believed was his last resort. This horrible violence. Watching those two fighters go at it made my heart break in two.

  “Can you see him?” I asked Lori.

  “There!” She pointed to the bleachers where halfway up, sitting on the edge, I spotted his familiar head of messy overgrown hair.

  I made a move, but Lori grasped my arm. “You’ve got my number if you need anything,” she said. “Just in case.”

  I nodded and turned back to the bleachers just as the fight was being called in Boom’s favor. I didn’t care who won or what condition they were in, my only concern was the defeated man sitting alone in the crowd.

  He didn’t see me at first. Not until I climbed the stairs and sat beside him.

  “Callie?” He straightened, up his expression filled with horror. “What are you doing here?”

  “I didn’t realize,” I said, breathlessly. “I didn’t realize this was what you did…”

  “Why are you here?” he asked again.

  “Why?” I turned to face him with a scowl. “I’m here for you, you blockhead. I turned down the job.”

  He blinked, completely lost for words.

  “I met Lori this afternoon,” I went on. “She brought me here.”

  “You met Lori?”

  “She came to see me.” I sighed and placed my hand on his knee. “What a pair we are… Good intentions but always just missing the mark.”

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, allowing his gaze to fall to my hand. “I’m so messed up I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “What do you want?” I asked. “Be honest with me, Mark. No hiding behind bravado or expectations or past experiences. Just say it. You know I won’t judge you. So, what do you want?”

  He reached over with his right hand and threaded his fingers through mine. “You gave up the job?”

  “Mark.”

  He sighed and raised his chin. Seeing him so vulnerable was shattering. He was this big, bad fighter, and right now, he looked on the verge of something so poignant it was beautiful in its sadness.

  Still, he didn’t answer, so I offered him the alternative Lori and I had spent the entire ride over discussing. “I know a guy who can get your story out there. The real story. If that’s what you want, of course. Then I know a girl who knows a guy who can get you an in as a personal trainer anywhere in the city. Get your qualification, and you’re set. You don’t have to fight here anymore if that’s what you want. If you want to fight again, I can’t stop you. I won’t like it, but it’s your choice.”

  “It seems like you’ve got this all worked out,” he said, the chip on his shoulder growing larger by the second.

  “It’s not a bad thing to admit you need help,” I retorted. “It’s not going to make your balls shrivel up and fall off. Nor is accepting a hand up if it’s offered to you. A legitimate hand up.”

  “Is this what you want?” he asked. “What you really want?”

  “What I want is The Fitzroy Cake Company and a chance to fall in love with you.”

  He snorted.

  “You and me? I wouldn’t know just yet,” I said. “You haven’t given me a chance, but I’m pretty sure it’ll happen.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I don’t. Not really. You have to meet me halfway.” I moved closer and rested my forehead against his. “All I ever wanted was the shop and someone to share it with. Someone to share my life, you know? Be my partner in crime. My best buddy. A man who could make my knees tremble and kiss me when I’m sad. I know it’s you, Mark. You already do all those things for me. Please believe me when I say…” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Please give me a chance to love you.”

  He screwed his eyes shut before fixing his gaze on mine once more. “I should have been the one saying that.”

  “Whatever. So are you going to answer my question, Storm?” I raised my eyebrows expectantly. “Here’s your chance. Make or break. What do you want?”

  Leaning forward, he kissed me softly on the lips. “You,” he said. “All I want is you.”

  22

  Callie

  Standing in the kitchen of The Fitzroy Cake Company, I put the finishing touches on the batch of cupcakes in front of me with a flourish. Swirling the last dab of rainbow butt
ercream icing, I put down the piping bag and sighed.

  “Are these ready to go out?” Melissa asked. She was the first employee I’d ever hired, and so far was just as keen as I was.

  “Yep. Load them into the display.”

  “They look amazing,” she said, sliding the tray off the counter before disappearing out front.

  “Am I interrupting?” a deep voice rumbled behind me.

  Spinning on my heel, my gaze collided with Mark’s, and I grinned at the sight of him. My entire body zinged, and an image of what we’d done on the bench—which I’d disinfected—came to mind.

  Since our confrontation at The Underground a week ago, things had settled. Well, the best they could with the shop’s opening looming. We were much more open with each other, his comfort levels had increased tenfold, and we were on the up-and-up. Those walls he’d built after his return from America were beginning to be dismantled, and the real man was shining through. The changed man.

  His experiences had shaped him more than he’d realized, and I really fucking loved what was underneath. It wasn’t just in reference to his sexy as hell sculpted body but the heart he’d denied having his whole life. The heart that beat with mine. Hell, I was turning into a complete sap.

  We’d been through a lot of emotional turmoil since the fire, and even though our story was unconventional, I wouldn’t change it for the world. Things happened exactly as they needed to. We’d both needed a hell of a kick up the ass to get us moving. It kind of paralleled my current zombielike state, if that was even comparable.

  “Mark!” I exclaimed, opening my arms as he approached.

  Pulling me into his embrace, he chuckled. “You look sexy in that little apron.”

  “Shut up, I look like shit. I’ve been up half the night baking, and we were back here at six a.m.‬ I’m pretty sure there’s icing in my hair.”‬‬‬‬‬

  “So? You look pretty fucking hot if you ask me,” he retorted. “Hey, did you know there’s a line outside?”

  I leaned back with a frown. “There’s a what?”