Prizefight: The Hell Raiders MC Goes MMA

by Aden Lowe

  The muted TV made weird shadows on everything, but I made out a couch, and a coffee table with a laptop computer open on it. As he directed me through a door to the bathroom, I suddenly realized Juaquin's apartment was twice the size of the others. He actually had a separate bedroom, with a door and everything.

  His bathroom was bigger, too, with an actual bathtub instead of just a crappy shower stall. The harsh light burned my eyes, especially since it was right over the mirror. The face staring back at me belonged to a stranger. My cheek was swollen and dark purple. The white of the butterfly strip stood out stark against my skin. The eye on the same side was swollen almost closed, the visible white part filled with blood.

  Makeup had run all over my face, and mixed with blood. The dried mixture really did make me look like I'd come through a war zone or something. Juaquin was right. If mom saw that, she'd have lost her shit.

  Chapter Five

  Ryker:

  I fell into bed, exhausted. I had to be in the gym around six to get warmed up. Less than three days to prepare for my next fight, and I had to make the most of every minute. Juggling training with work sucked, but when Hell Raiders business got thrown into the mix, I came out on the losing side of all of it.

  For the time being, I had no choice, though. Fighting paid most of my expenses, but I wanted a safety cushion. I've thought of asking Kellen to back off what I'm asked to do for the Raiders, but can't bring myself to do it. Those bastards have had my back for so long, I would feel like shit if I let anything slide with them. No, I just had to figure it out and try my best to keep it in balance.

  Despite my being worn out, sleep took its time coming. No doubt, I owed that to Elena. The next fight was one of Royse's, and I couldn't help but wonder if she would be part of the prize again. That thought led to a raging hard-on that refused to just go away. Thoughts of Elena helped my hand take care of the situation, and my damn brain finally shut down for the night.

  The fucking alarmed dragged me out of bed at five thirty, and even though I felt like I'd only just closed my eyes, I got up. I pulled on a T-shirt and workout shorts, grabbed my bag and headed out the door. Out on the street, I slung the bag over my shoulder, stretched, and took off in a jog. The six-block run would wake me up and get my muscles firing just in time to get started on training.

  The city was quiet this time of morning, and I always enjoyed my little run to sort of get my thoughts in order for the day. Not many people were out and about so early, so I normally had the street to myself. Today, though, I spotted another runner up ahead. Curious to see if it was somebody I knew, I stretched my strides a little and started closing the distance.

  Within a hundred feet, I nearly stumbled when I realized the other runner was female. In the six years since I moved here to be closer to the gym, I made this exact same run at least three times a week. In all that time, I've never once encountered a female runner.

  Dark shorts hinted at the curve of a shapely ass, and long, toned legs practically hypnotized me. I quickened my pace to pull closer for a better look. Dark hair pulled into a braid lay forward over her shoulder.

  Before long, I came close enough to see how her sweat-dampened shirt clung to her skin. I must have spooked her, because about a block before the gym, she cut over to the other side of the street. Oh well. I had more important shit to take care of, anyway. I stretched out and ran hard the last hundred yards, and hit the gym door panting and wiping sweat.

  Luke spotted me from where he had a couple of newbies warming up. I lifted a hand and stashed my bag, and started straight into my warmup routine. Luke would catch up with me for footwork and technique training, but until then, my day would follow the program. Too bad I didn't have the day off work, so I could devote the entire day to training and resting.

  After three hours of working hard, Luke waved me to the showers. I had just enough time to swing back by my apartment and grab my lunch before I had to be at work. Hopefully it would be a light day and I could rest a little. Of course, every time I hoped for that, we'd get slammed.

  The next days passed in a blur of training, work, and more training. No problem getting to sleep at night with a schedule like that. I didn't have to work the day of the fight, so I spent the time with light training and re-watching videos of my opponent for the bout. Royse had four matches slated for the night, and mine was the Main Event.

  I made a quick stop at the gym for a last minute strategy talk with Luke, then climbed back on my Harley for the ride to the next town. Royse held his fights in an old factory, closed years ago and boarded up. No one questioned a couple hundred vehicles sitting outside an abandoned building on a Saturday night. No doubt, they knew better. Royse's goons had a rep for liking blood.

  I parked at the corner of the lot, like always, and headed in the side entrance. Some of the factory's old offices had been converted to locker rooms, and rather than wait for Luke to arrive, I staked out space in the largest one. As a head-liner, any place I wanted to get dressed was mine. Law of the jungle, baby.

  The crowd of spectators roared to signal the end of the first match. I changed and spent some time warming up and going over takedowns in my head. Luke arrived in time to help me finish up, and spent every spare second reminding me of my opponent's weaknesses. He didn't tell me, but I knew Royse was giving the other guy good odds to win. Good thing that had never stopped me before.

  Royse had tried to get me to throw one of my early fights for him, but I made clear if he wanted me in his cage, I didn't throw a damn thing. He backed down, but whenever he put heavy odds on the other guy, I knew it would be a hard fight.

  Somebody stuck his head in the door for my five-minute warning. I never liked waiting until the last minute, so Luke and I headed out. Something about the energy of the crowd always amped me up, and this time was no different. The place was packed and they were all excited about the Main Event. My pulse raced in reaction and I took a second to focus on breathing.

  With the big spotlights focused on the cage, the spectators weren't easy to see, but I still looked, just like always. Just off to my right, a flash of red caught my eye, and I turned to look fully. It was stupid, really. Even if Elena was there, she'd had on a different dress. Except she was, and she didn't. The same bright red dress clung to every delicious curve, and the memory of taking it off her flashed through my head to make my mouth water.

  Elena looked anything but happy to be with the big man who kept a possessive arm around her shoulder, while Royse looked as thrilled as a kid with his first girly magazine. That look on Royse's face set off all kinds of alarm bells in my head, but I didn't have time to wonder why. Especially when my attention kept going back to Elena. It seemed she was going to be a regular part of the entertainment for the underground fights, then. I tried to ignore the flare of jealousy the thought brought.

  The third match ended and the announcer waited for the crowd to quiet a little, then called the fighters for the Main Event. From there, everything blurred together until the bell for the opening round. Then, just like always, I focused in tight on my opponent. I already knew how he liked to fight from the videos. What I didn't know yet was whether he'd stubbed his toe getting out of bed, or if he'd taken things a little too hard in training. So I watched and anticipated.

  We both advanced quickly into a cautious exchange to test each other, searching for weaknesses. A female scream, way too close to the wire, snapped my attention away from the match. The other guy saw and took advantage, closing fast with a flurry of kicks and punches.

  I had to scramble, but I managed to block most of it and still strike back. A good kick put him off balance and when he retreated, I followed hard.

  At the end of the round, I backed off. "What the fuck was that, man?" Luke's anger came through loud and clear. I shook my head and shrugged. "Well, you make sure it don't happen again, you hear me?" I nodded, and at the bell, went back out.

  Wary now, my opponent tried to keep some distance, but I purs
ued for a takedown. I let him kick out, fully aware it took more energy from him than me. After another exchange of kicks and punches, the round ended.

  Until the third round, I minimized the use of my knees, keeping them in reserve. Then I used them to systematically pound the other guy until he reeled at the end of the round. In the fourth, I allowed him a brief rally to get the spectators going again, then made my own comeback just before the bell.

  Seconds before the bell for the fifth, my focus took another dangerous shift to a flash of movement just beyond the cage. A slim form in red struggled against someone much larger. Elena. Anger rolled through me and I wished the fucker man-handling her stood in the cage tonight so I could take him apart.

  Enough fucking around. At the bell, I went out hard and dismantled the other guy until he collapsed. I barely managed to wait for my arm to be raised for the decisive win before I bolted from the cage.

  The spectators roared, cheering the win, congratulating each other if they'd bet on me, and pissed if they didn't. Somewhere in all that mess, Elena needed help. Even though I knew it was a stupid move on my part, I needed to get to her. The damn crowd surged, either eager to get out ahead of the traffic, or collect their winnings, or both.

  The damn lights came up, blinding me and showing the spectators the way out. Unable to spot her in that clusterfuck, I headed for Royse's usual seats. He would be there until he'd either collected or paid on all the bets of the night. I figured he would have to pay out quite a bit, since the fight didn't go his way.

  It took a few minutes to wade through the crowd, but I finally spotted Royse, right where I figured he'd be. One of his goons leaned in to whisper to him, and Royse looked in my direction as his mouth tightened. Not surprisingly, he seemed more than a little pissed at me.

  Nobody had the balls to contest my right to be there as I shouldered people out of the way and approached. They were lucky they didn't, or I might have taken some heads off. It suited my mood perfectly to take some of the goons apart.

  "Ryker." Royse's growl said he wasn't happy to see me. "You cost me a lot of money tonight."

  I took a second to restrain myself. "Too bad, man. Smart money was on me." My fists stayed ready at my sides, just in case. The bastard had been known to have fighters jumped for less.

  He scowled. "Luke will have your winnings when I wrap up here. Hit the showers. You reek."

  I grinned, though it probably looked more like a snarl. "I'm sure I do. Luke will get with you. I'm here for something else."

  "Yeah? What would that be?" He counted out another man's winnings and scowled in my direction.

  "Earlier, before the match, I saw somebody I thought I knew. Don't see him now and wondered where he'd got to. He was with you and that hot little chica from the last match. Big guy. Know who I mean?" As bad as I wanted to demand he tell me Elena's whereabouts, I couldn't give him that kind of power. Even though my interest amounted to nothing more than curiosity, he would assume it was more and try to use her against me.

  Royse narrowed his gaze at someone slightly beyond me and gave his head a little shake. On instinct, I whirled, expecting to catch someone trying to jump me from behind.

  Instead, the big man drew near, dragging a protesting Elena with him. Even in the low light, the thin line of blood at the corner of her mouth was plain as day. Fuck.

  Rage shot through me, and I had to consciously lock my muscles to keep from doing anything to get myself killed.

  Hope crossed Elena's face. "Ryker! Help me, please!"

  Shit, if I made the wrong move... I shook my head and turned back to Royse. "Nah, not who I thought it was." I shrugged and made as if to move on past.

  One of Royse's goons moved out of my way just a bit too slow, and I grabbed him, swinging him between me and the others while I snatched the .45 from his hideaway holster.

  "What the fuck, Ryker?" Royse started to stand.

  "Move, Royse, and I'll blow that gold tooth down your fucking throat." A quick lift of my chin indicated the big man. "You tell him to let her go. Now. Unless you and the rest of these nice people want to see how good a shot I am."

  Royse nodded at the other man, and Elena pulled away from him and ran past me. "This is a big mistake, Ryker. I'll ruin you for this shit."

  I grinned at him. "Nah, you won't do that. I'm your cash bull these days. You think I don't know about the money that changes hands here? I ain't blind, fucker. You need me." Giving the goon a hard shove that took down his two colleagues, I beat it for my locker room.

  They would need at most five minutes before they came to take me apart, so I had no time to waste. To my surprise, Elena waited for me just inside the door. With no time for explanations, I grabbed my bag and her arm and got the hell out of there.

  "Ditch those fucking shoes and come on."

  She followed orders surprisingly well for a female, and by the time we reached my bike, she already had her dress up and ready to climb on. I kept my bag over my shoulder, just in case I needed the .45 inside, and started the Harley. She held on tight as I got us the fuck out of there.

  Chapter Six

  Elena:

  Why did I even ask him for help? Sure, no other john has had the least bit of concern for me, and Ryker helped me the first time by letting me go with him. But this time, I knew it would put him in danger, and I still asked.

  And he ignored me. My heart stopped when he seemed to not even see me there with the Russian. In that moment, I had no doubt, I wouldn't see the morning.

  And when the chance came, when Ryker chose to rescue me? I sure as fuck didn't turn it down. After my last date, I knew nothing but a miracle could save me and my mom. That night when I got home, she hadn't been there. Royse had taken her and left nothing but a note telling me she was safe as long as I played nice. Apparently, playing nice meant letting my date kill me.

  A shiver ran through me despite the warmth of the night. I guess I'd stopped playing nice. As far as I knew, they'd killed her already, but if they hadn't, Royse would give the order after what happened at the fights. Either way, I was no good to her dead.

  For the moment, all I could do was concentrate on staying behind Ryker and hoping I lived through the night ahead. In the morning, I would have to find some kind of answer.

  Not even ten minutes from the factory, Ryker slowed his bike and pulled off the road. I raised my cheek off his back to look around, my heart pounding with fear. Or had I jumped from the frying pan into the fire? After all, I really knew nothing about Ryker, except he was amazing in bed. Or had Royse's men caught up so soon?

  But no, there was nothing around. No lights. No traffic. No buildings. Just empty countryside stretched away in the dim moonlight. A new chill chased itself down my spine as I realized exactly how small and vulnerable I was in the middle of all this nothing.

  Ryker shut the bike off. "Okay, climb off real quick. I need to get dressed in case we hit trouble." His words made me feel foolish for being afraid of him. Wearing nothing but the shorts he wore for the fight, of course he needed clothes.

  As soon as I was off the bike, he climbed off and stripped out of his shorts. "What happened back there? Who was that guy?" He pulled clothes out of his bag and started putting them on.

  I shook my head. "I only know him as the Russian. He's one of Royse's mob connections, I think. What little I know about him, or Royse, for that matter, comes from the other girls. Sometimes we actually get a chance to talk."

  "Tell me."

  "Girls that leave the fights with the Russian are never seen again. Royse owes him, or at least, fears him. He didn't even put up a fight when the Russian wanted his niece, even though she wasn't part of the line-up. Just handed her over with a smile. She never came back, either." I didn't know what else to tell him, so I waited and shivered.

  He dragged his shirt over his head. "Okay. Hold that thought." He dug around in one of the bags on the back of his bike and made a satisfied noise as he held up a cellphone about like min
e. "Knew I kept that bitch in there for a reason." He powered the phone up, and as bad as I wanted to ask what he was doing, I held it while he punched in a number. "Hey, man, it's me. Got a little situation. Meet me at the trestle in thirty?"

  Without waiting for a reply, he turned the phone off and pulled it apart. The battery went back in his bag, while the phone itself hit the pavement to be crushed under his heavy boot. His gaze raked over me, missing nothing. Looking thoughtful, he fished in the bag on the other side, and pulled out a flannel shirt.

  "Put this on. I can't do anything about your legs right now, but maybe that'll help a little." He tossed the shirt my way. "We have a fifteen-minute ride ahead, and part of it will be a little rough. Nothing I can do about that either. When we get there, I'll have to take a little walk and talk to my buddy. You stay at the bike and don't move. Understood?"

  I nodded and buttoned the shirt, grateful for it. He got back on the bike, and I waited for him get it started and gesture for me to climb behind him. Wherever he intended to take me must be even more in the middle of nowhere. No other cars came into sight from either direction.

  At one point, I caught the sparkle of moonlight on a lot of water. Once more, I felt fear at Ryker's intentions, but I tried to shake it off. Surely he wouldn't have gone to the trouble of rescuing me from the Russian just to kill me himself? He put himself in serious danger from both Royse, and the Russian. I doubted he would go to that much trouble just to turn around and kill me himself.

  He slowed and turned off the road onto a gravel track. When he hit the first bump, I felt it all the way up my spine. The second came not even a heartbeat later. I quickly lost track of everything except trying to hold on and keep all my teeth in my mouth.

  The path came to a sudden end in a tiny clearing and he stopped the bike. I climbed off when he told me to.