Trick (Diablo's Throne MMA Book 3)

by HJ Bellus

  Sunni doesn’t flinch. She only shakes her head and rolls her eyes. I gasp, horrified how hard he hit his man parts.

  “Right in the Sacajawea,” Trick mumbles through his laughter.

  Boss’ head is thrown back, and I swear I’ve never heard someone laugh so damn hard.

  “Peas. Frozen peas, stat, before my nuts lose blood circulation and turn into goddamn raisins.” Jag lets the bike drop to the sidewalk and creeps toward us, hunched over in pain and cupping his junk.

  “What in the hell is going on?” Layla asks, walking out the front door, brushing her messy hair back.

  “Jag thought he was going to Evil Knievel on a mountain bike and didn’t realize the gears weren’t going to work with him,” Boss manages to get out.

  Trick ignores the circus surrounding us while running the tip of his nose up and down the sensitive part of my neck. His hand roams dangerously close to the waist of my shorts. “Let’s go. I’m fucking starving and not for food.”

  Chapter 12

  Trick

  I’m an idiot. There’s no way around it. Riding a bike two-and-a-half miles across town after a fight is a death wish. And one I happily geared up for. Mack and I stopped in at my favorite steakhouse. The food was fantastic like always. The attention from the hostess and servers was not so incredible.

  Shit, Jag, Cruz, Riot, and I would dine there at least three times a week back in the day and would end up taking home women. Not something I’m proud of. And even though I had Mack at my side, it didn’t stop their advances. She took it like a champ, still high off my fight. Couldn’t get her to order a meal off the menu. She did the same thing as last time, copying my order. It bothered the hell out of me. She’s that calf getting her legs under her. It will take time.

  “Want to come in?” Mack asks, hopping off her bike.

  I take the opportunity to study those tanned, toned legs before answering. I rake my vision up her body, admiring all her voluptuous parts. I bite down on my bottom lip, stifling a moan, and then remember Mack asked me a question.

  “Hell yes, I do. Thought you’d never ask.” I hitch my leg off my bike and lean it next to Mack’s.

  The best fucking fantastic view in the universe graces my vision as we walk up the smooth sidewalk—Mack’s beautiful ass. I sure in the hell don’t like her walking and riding her bike everywhere, but Jesus the things it’s done for her smoking little body.

  “Hey.” She turns to me and plants a palm on my chest. “I’m going to check on Gene real quick. Go ahead and go on in.”

  I force myself to remain standing upright and not take her lips with mine. Mack bounces off before I have the chance to respond. Anger races up my spine when I place my hand on the doorknob, and it opens. Her door was fucking unlocked. I take a second to flex my fists and settle my nerves. This caveman shit inside of me is ridiculous. The reality of it is Mack is easy prey. All it would take is for some damn creep to follow her for few days to set the trap. She’d walk right into her own demise.

  I tamp down my emotions, saving this talk for another day. I’m plain exhausted and have had way too sweet of a day to ruin it. Mack’s home consists of two rooms from what I can see. One large living area, which includes a living room and kitchen. There’s one door off to the side that I assume is her bedroom.

  “Hey, I’m back.”

  I turn to see Mack bouncing inside the house with a mile-wide grin on her face. She’s changed. I can see it in her movements and the gentle ease in her smile.

  “Gene doing okay?” I ask.

  Mack shared her worries with me on the ride over here.

  “Yes, he does look better and is getting ready for bed.” She kicks off her shoes and drops them on a yellow mat near the door. “Tomorrow will be the true test. We will see if he goes down to the center for dinner and to socialize.”

  “Good deal.” I close the distance between us, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her to me. “Thanks for coming to the fight tonight.”

  Mack brushes her thumb across my cheek. “It was amazing. I mean, not my thing, but holy hell, Trick, you’re one talented man.”

  I’ve heard this over and over, whether it be in the media or from fans. I’ve never been able to openly accept the compliment. Fighting is more to me. It’s my drive to live. Pushing and training my body to near exertion fuels me and quite frankly has become my addiction.

  My phone chirps in my pocket. I know it’s not a text or email. Nope, it’s the cry of a dying battery.

  “Hey, babe, need to plug in my phone.” I brush my lips across her forehead.

  “In my bedroom.” She nods to the door. “Go ahead and plug it in next to my nightstand. I’m going to grab us a drink.”

  I step back, biting down the victorious smile tugging at my lips. The bedroom. Hells yes, I’ll plug my phone in there. My heart sinks when her full-size bed comes into view. I’ll never fit in that fucker. The bed itself swallows up the room. A door to a small bathroom off the room is cracked open, and it’s just as small. I’ll make it work.

  I sit on the edge of Mack’s bed covered in a pale-yellow chevron comforter. The outlet behind the nightstand peeks out. It takes me becoming a human pretzel folding over to plug in my charger. I fumble around a bit before connecting the charger. My knuckles brush against a piece of paper. I snag it before sitting up and stretching my sore neck from side to side. I’m starting to feel the fight. Gonna be a sore bastard in the morning.

  I toss the paper on the bed, worried it might be something Mack has been looking for, and then flop back on the doll-sized mattress. It may be a miniature version in my world, but it’s damn comfortable. I let my eyes flutter shut for a few seconds. Just a few, because I know if it were any longer, I’d pass the hell out.

  A gasp from the doorway causes me to startle and sit up. Mack has her hand over her mouth, with two bottles of water under her other arm, and her eyes wide in horror.

  “Mack?” I stand up, rubbing the stubble on my chin.

  Her face morphs into a pale white. She remains frozen, not saying a word.

  Chapter 13

  Trick

  She’s been sitting on the edge of her bed staring straightforward for minutes now. I’ve damn near worn a hole in the carpet from pacing back and forth. I’ve seen Mack’s freak-outs before. This is so much more than a simple anxiety or panic attack.

  “Baby, you’ve got to give me something here.” I clutch the top of my head.

  She doesn’t say a word. Mack reaches over and plucks up the piece of paper I pulled from behind the nightstand. It’s now that I notice it’s an old newspaper article. A yellowed and thin piece of paper separates us as if it’s a ton of cement.

  My heart plummets when I read the headline. Guilt sets in. I already know all of this from when I Googled her. I take in a long gulp of oxygen before sitting next to Mack. I ground myself in her as I lace my fingers in hers. We sit in silence for long moments.

  “I already know, Mack.” Each one of my words comes out cracked wide open. “I tried looking you up on social media, and when there was no trace of you, I searched the web. I’m so sorry, Mack.”

  This gets her attention. She turns her head in my direction, her black hair flipping over her shoulders. Silent waterfalls of sorrow tumble down her face.

  “For what?”

  I squeeze her fingers and crane my neck in question.

  “What are you sorry for, Trick?” She tucks her head down, and I don’t stop her. “Are you sorry for looking me up or what happened to me?”

  “I don’t know,” I whisper in all honesty.

  “How long have you known?” she asks.

  “Since the beginning.”

  She jerks away from me, recoiling back into her shell. “Is that why…”

  It’s a bold move, and I may regret it. I’m desperately clinging onto hope. I ease Mack back on the bed until I’m covering her body. I cup the apples of her cheeks in my palms while staring her straight in the eye.

/>   “No, it’s not why I’ve been nice to you. I was pulled and tugged to you the day I met you. I was intrigued and searched your name. I won’t lie, because I’ve wanted to ask about your past every day since, and it’s not out of pity either. I’m curious. I crave to know what’s made you into you. I want to know everything from the beautiful and ugly moments, because, Mack-A-Bee, I’m falling in love with you fucking hard and fast.”

  She kept her eyes clenched shut the entire time until my last sentence. Her vibrant eyes pop to life. Tears brim but don’t spill over.

  “But I’m the trash can baby,” she whispers.

  I press my finger to her lips and drop my forehead to hers, so there’s no space that lingers between us. We are one as much as we can be.

  “No, you’re not.” I grab the newspaper article, bringing it between our chests. “You’re a beautiful woman who had a horrible beginning in life. This little girl in the picture with pigtails, a timid grin, and the frilly dress has overcome huge obstacles. You are a survivor, Mack.”

  “My story didn’t end there.” She reaches up to wipe my cheek.

  “Want to tell me?” I brush my nose against hers.

  Her eyes flutter shut as she inhales deeply. “I’ll try.”

  I roll off the top of her and bring her to my side, tucking her close. Her cheek rests on my chest. Her arm lays heavy on my abdomen. I reach down, grabbing her leg, hitching it up on mine. I don’t push or encourage her to open up. I’ve ripped off a scab that’s way past due. It’s going to be a bloody mess. Once it heals, I have a gut feeling that it will all be worth it.

  I strum my fingers through her loose hair, grounding myself in her. The scent of sweet strawberries and hints of tangerines invade me.

  “It was my mom.” Her fingers dig into my chest. “She hid the pregnancy. When she went into labor, from what I know, she panicked, wrapped me up in an old, worn yellow t-shirt, and stashed me in a dumpster behind the bakery in old downtown.

  “A worker found me. They don’t know how long I was there for. It took the authorities three months to connect all the dots. My mom was long gone by then. Her mother stepped up and took me in.”

  Mack’s voice grows shaky, on the verge of complete mania. I bend down and kiss her forehead, running my hand up and down her back.

  “Easy. As much as you want to share, baby.”

  “I’ve come this far,” she says, tilting her face up to me.

  I’m surprised to see it tear free. The pain of the haunting memories is more rooted than tears. It’s a heart and soul-shattering darkness coating each of her features.

  “My mother’s mom took me in. I have no good memories of it, because from the time I could recall anything, all the attention had worn off from the trash can baby. She reminded me time and time again that was the sole reason she took me in. She wasn’t cruel and wasn’t loving at all. I was just there. I had food of some sort and made my way through school.”

  I have to fight the urge to tamp down my fury. This isn’t the time nor the place to tell Mack she’s dead wrong. There may never be a time for that. God, I just want to fix it all for her. She has soul-deep scars I can never touch.

  “I met Gene when I was around five years old. His only son had just left home. He and Wilma were my saviors. They’d see me reading a book that I didn’t even know one word out of in the backyard and would invite me over. I never went, so they brought their cookies and lemonade to me. My grandma, I mean Patricia, never even knew. I could’ve run away, and she’d have no idea.”

  Mack takes a long gulp. “I always had this drive to be more but never possessed the courage to get it done. Patricia died. I was lost, so fucking weird to think about.”

  I flinch at Mack dropping the F-bomb. It doesn’t stop her. She’s raw and honest with me right now. A floodgate of tears opens, and everything spills over without a second thought.

  “Gene had just lost Wilma. I hated the house next to him, which was all mine along with Patricia’s fortune. Hell, I never knew she had one from the way we lived. I never tried to figure her out. She raised one daughter who abandoned a baby in a dumpster and three months later was found dead on the side of the highway in Arizona. She treated me like the trash I am yet sat on over a half-million dollars.

  “Late at night, I think about her and struggle to put the puzzle pieces together. No matter how many times I rearrange them, nothing makes sense.”

  “Did she abuse you?” I ask, holding her tighter to me.

  “No, really, she ignored me. She never held a conversation with me. The most I’d get out of her was her yelling my name in the morning to wake me up. She bought me an alarm clock at a yard sale when I was in fifth grade, then she never really spoke to me again. She’d smoke her cigarettes, watch soap operas all day, and spend most evenings down at Shorty’s bar.”

  “Jesus, Mack, that’s horrible.”

  “Yeah.” I can feel her shoulders shrug against me. “I’m not lying when I say Gene saved me. School was horrible.”

  “Tell me about it. I want to know it all.”

  She wiggles around until she’s perched on my chest staring up at me. “Remember the guy from the first day of class?”

  I nod.

  “He and his buddies were in my classes in elementary and middle school. They teased me mercilessly about being the trash can baby, dumpster girl, or any other cruel thing they could come up with. Other kids joined, and I was alienated even at school. My appearance didn’t help. I looked like a trash can girl. Wilma taught me how to braid my hair and basic hygiene. She tried to buy me clothes one time, and Patricia threw them all in the dumpster.”

  She takes a long pull of air and scrunches her brow. “That’s my story and why I’m so weird.”

  I reach down and cup her cheek. “You’re not weird, Mack-A-Bee.”

  “Don’t sugarcoat it.” Mack’s eyes narrow.

  “Baby, one thing I don’t do is lie or sugarcoat shit. You’ve overcome huge obstacles and are here still fighting. Jesus, that doesn’t make you weird, not even close to it.”

  Mack ignores my comment and continues telling me more about herself.

  “Gene helped me sell the house. We remodeled his garage into a small apartment for me. I slayed my first two years of college via online courses like a damn warrior. But then this semester hasn’t been so easy. The only bright part of my day is you, Trick.”

  I grab underneath her arms and pitch her up to my chest, so we are aligned perfectly. Of course, her toes hit about mid-calf, but we are face to face.

  “My little rebel,” I say against her lips. “Stepping out of your comfort zone. God, that turns me on and is making me fall even harder for you.”

  “Trick?” she whispers.

  “Yeah.” I crane my neck to pepper kisses up and down her neck. I’m rewarded with her skin fleshing out in goosebumps.

  “I really like the gym and your friends. They’re so amazing. But—”

  “But what?” I ask between kisses, growing a little nervous where this is heading. My family is my family and a deal breaker if she has an issue with them.

  “I don’t want them to know about my past. I want a fresh start with them. Tonight was a huge leap for me, and it felt amazing. I want to continue that.”

  “Deal.” I catch the bottom of her earlobe between my teeth and tug on it. Mack may want to talk more right now, but my dick has other plans. The selfish bastard. I roam my hands down to the globes of her ass, palming each cheek. I dig my fingers in, stifling a moan as I pull her down onto my erection over and over again.

  “You feel that?” I ask with a husky, sex-hazed voice.

  Mack whimpers against my lips. I take it as a yes.

  “When you’re scared or struggling and ready to retreat into the safety of your comfort shell, remember how this feels. Remember how fucking head over heels I am for you and fight for your freedom.”

  Mack cuts me off mid-speech, sealing her lips to mine. I don’t mind much since th
e vital stuff was said. Our lips wrestle with our lust, teeth clinking, and tongues dueling for more. Mack’s hips begin moving on their own accord with my hands still in place.

  Each movement of her hips causes my dick to throb. Tingles race up my spine. I fucking want nothing more than to strip this beauty down and take her. She’s not ready, and it’s killing me.

  “Mack, we gotta stop before I can’t,” I say through panting breaths.

  “No, I want more.”

  “Baby, you’re not ready for it.”

  “I am. I’m not a virgin, Trick.”

  This little piece of information freezes the blood in my veins. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m not a virgin.”

  “You’ve had sex before?”

  She pushes up on my chest and stares down at me while nibbling on her bottom lip. “Yes, but…”

  Her cheeks burn a crimson red. I squeeze her ass, encouraging her to continue.

  “Go on,” I say when she doesn’t finish her sentence.

  “I ordered toys off the Internet,” she blurts out and buries her face in my chest.

  Now, it’s my turn to bite my lip in hopes of caging in laughter. She’s too damn adorable and innocent. My chest begins to vibrate, then I’m full-out laughing my ass off.

  “Stop.” She smacks my chest.

  “Okay, okay.” I hold her in place when she tries to roll off me. “Baby, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, and yes, you’re still a virgin. You’re fucking adorable. I want nothing more than to strip you bare and make you mine. Thing is, I want it to be perfect, and in the meantime, I can do things to you that will make you scream my name over and over.”

  I flip us so fast Mack doesn’t see it coming and doesn’t have a chance to react. I have her pinned underneath me. One hand planted next to her face while the other makes quick work of the button and zipper on her shorts. I have them along with her black lace panties off and tossed over my shoulder.