by Aden Lowe
After a while, I gave in to the exhaustion dragging at my muscles and slumped back against the pillows. I must have fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes again, mom hadn't moved but a different show played. Mom's hand lay on one of the pillows beside me, and I reached for it, trying to clutch it and stay gentle at the same time.
She looked back at me with a smile. "Stop worrying, munchkin. It's going to be okay." The way she said it, then patted my hand just like when I was little, then went back to watching her show, tore my heart out.
How could I even question this? Royse had given my mother a new lease on life. I owed him. Nothing else mattered. Not me. Not Ryker. Not what Royse would ask in return. I would do it all, gladly, to give her life back to her.
Even with that realization, the memory of Ryker's gentle touch scalded my mind. How could I live and never experience that again? Or not see his smile, saying so much and showing so little? Ryker put everything I ever knew about men into doubt. He might be a fighter, but he'd shown me more tenderness than I could have imagined in the world. He took my problems on and helped me, even knowing the cost to himself. How could I just turn my back?
Tears rolled and still, I found no fucking answers. Why couldn't things be as simple as they had been a few weeks ago? Back then, nothing mattered but surviving the day, and then the night, and then the next. I knew how to do that.
The door swung inward, silent. I might have missed it if I hadn't turned a little when I lay back on the pillows. My whole body locked in fear.
Royse stood there, a fake-as-shit smile plastered on his face. "Well, Elena, nice of you to join us. Your mom and I have been getting to know one another a little."
My mother stood—actually stood without wincing or groaning in pain—and went to him. "Mr. Royse, I'm so glad to see you." She went on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for bringing Elena."
Royse, entirely unlike the monster I knew him to be, kissed my mother's cheek and hugged her. "You're very welcome, Rosa. I know how much you missed your girl, and when she finished her work early, I asked her to go ahead and come to you." He led her back to the bed with a gentleness I couldn't believe he even possessed. "You rest, Rosa, and watch your show. Elena and I are going to talk for a few minutes."
I sat there in shock, unable to close my mouth, and looking like an idiot. Something was happening here, and I had no clue, but it scared the absolute piss out of me. An odd shaking started in my shoulders and traveled over my whole body.
"Elena, stop being rude, baby. Mr. Royse wants to talk to you." My mother hadn't scolded me in so long, I had no idea how to react. "Go on, now."
My body reacted automatically, following the command. I stood and went to Royse.
The look of victory in his eyes turned my stomach. The grin he gave me was the total opposite of the sweet smile for mom. "Good girl. Come on, let's go to your room and talk."
My room? What the fuck? The words refused to come out of my mouth, and I had to swallow and try again. "What are you doing here, Royse?"
He gave me that grin again, like a wolf watching a baby deer in the woods. "What am I doing? Elena, I'm just making sure my girlfriend's momma has the best care available. I couldn't very well let her sit there and suffer, now could I? Now come on, darling, let's go so you can tell me how your trip went." He put his arm around my waist and led me out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Chapter Seventeen
Ryker:
I really didn't want to believe it. Elena ditched my ass at a fucking gas station and made tracks back to her pimp as fast as she could go. What the fuck was I thinking, putting myself on the line for someone else? I fucking knew better.
I avoided this line of thought all the way here, until I knew for sure where she'd gone. Sure, it kept playing through the back of my mind, but I tried to ignore it, hoping she went somewhere else. No such fucking luck, though. Exactly the reason I never put my neck on the line for anyone except my Brothers. At least, I knew they wouldn't spit on the sacrifice like she had.
I pulled up by the boarded-up laundromat two buildings down from Royse's. Stella texted to meet him there when I checked in with him. And there he sat, that old beat-to-hell Honda of his smoking like a damn freight train.
"Man, why don't you shut that sonofabitch off, instead of sitting here pollutin' the air?"
He grinned and flipped ash from his cigarette. "If I shut her down, she probably won't start again without serious help."
I laughed, glad he didn't mind being ribbed about his ride. "She show up?"
He took another drag of his smoke. "Yeah, maybe fifteen minutes ago. Showed up, rang the bell, dude came and showed her in. Ain't seen nothin' since then."
"Well, shit." A few shots of JD would have tasted really good at the moment. Even though I knew where she went, the confirmation sent me reeling. I felt like I'd just been sucker punched. Figured. I let myself care a little for some chick, and she kicks me in the teeth. Story of my damn life. "Guess she didn't want help as bad as she thought she did, huh?"
Stella shook his head. "Nah, man, that girl was shaking so hard I could see it over here. She was terrified and thought she had no choice."
"I gave her a choice though, and fucked myself over doing it." Felt like the biggest fool in the fucking world. "I'm sorry to drag you into it. I'll get with Kellen in a couple days." I started the Chevelle, ready to get the fuck away from there.
"Hold up, man. She might have run back here, but li'l mama needs our help. You said Royse has her mom?"
The last thing I wanted to do was go back over it all, but Stella deserved to put his worries to rest. "Yeah. Guess he took the old lady from her apartment." The memory of her face when we ate flashed through my mind. "They had it really hard, man."
He nodded. "So she tried to get out and Royse grabbed her mom to keep her in line. Smart."
I had to admit, it was. "You think he hurt her mom when she ran?"
The thoughtful look on his face reminded me of the other Stella, the one who could run an international mob in his sleep. "I wouldn't. I'd keep the mom as a bargaining chip, and keep her in good shape."
"I guess that makes sense." I hated like hell to admit anything Royse did might have some kind of logic behind it.
"Did he contact her or anything?"
"I don't see how he could have. I was with her practically all the time, and I destroyed her cell phone." I searched my memory, looking for a time when she might have called someone, but came up empty. "Shit, I should have watched her closer. She thought if she came back, she could work shit out with him and keep him off my back."
"I can see that. She felt bad for getting you into it." He gave me a speculative look. "Ryker, I ain't gettin' in your business, but if you care anything for this girl, don't turn your back. The Brothers are all in. We'll help you get her out of there, and her moms too."
"I appreciate it, but she made up her mind. Best to let her ride it out." I swallowed back the sense of wrong the words caused. It didn't matter. She didn't want my help. All I could do was go back to my life and wish her well. "I'll catch you later, man. Got shit to do." I didn't, but at the moment, I sure as hell didn't want to sit there and talk about Elena with him.
"A'ight, man. Lemme know if you change your mind. Been a while since I kicked some scumbag ass."
I raised a hand and rolled away, headed back toward my place. The drive took forever, even though I only lived a few minutes away. Leaving Elena behind, forgetting about her, felt all kinds of wrong.
I glanced at my watch. One A.M. I had the key to Luke's gym. Pounding the fuck out of the heavy bag sounded like a great idea. With the Chevelle tucked safely into her spot in the parking garage, I headed up and changed, grabbed a bag, and got my blood flowing with a run to the gym.
The gym felt creepy without the lights and the sounds of training, and it smelled of antiseptic covering up stale sweat and blood. I locked the doors behind me, and turned on one bank of lights, just
enough to see what I was doing. After a quick warm-up, I hit the bag, going at it hard with fists, knees, and then kicks.
Even after my muscles burned with exhaustion and trembled with the strain, I kept going. Yeah, stupid, and asking for an injury, especially since I hadn't been on my usual routine for a few days. But if I didn't get the anger and frustration out of my system, I would take someone's head off, or do something even more stupid. Like go into Royse's with guns blazing and take my woman back.
My woman. Where the fuck did that come from? Elena wasn't mine. Even if some part of me wanted her.
It was better this way, anyway. I had no time for a woman, between training and fighting and working my nine-to-five. Especially now that I'd lost the income from the underground fights. I'd always used that to fund my training. Now I would have to pick up extra shifts at work, until I figured out something else.
The line of thought made me angry all over again. I went out of my way for her, and she walked away without a backward glance, leaving me to deal with the consequences. How fucking stupid could I be? Life had kicked that lesson through my thick skull time and time again, and yet here I was.
Dripping sweat and ready to fall over with fatigue, I caught a quick shower, and headed back home. I needed some serious icing after that workout. And still, my brain kept feeding me bullshit about Elena, and how I was an idiot for turning my back. I reminded myself she turned away first. Her choice. Not mine. I just had to live with it.
By the time I made it to my building, I convinced myself all I had to do was get my ass back on track. Training and fight schedules kept playing on demand through my head. That little trick served me well every time I got too far up into my own head. Gradually, my focus and determination came back as I dragged my exhausted ass up the stairs.
And it all evaporated when I opened the door to my apartment and Elena's scent reached out to grab me. Fuck. My. Life.
I went in, closed and locked the door, and stood heaving against the wall. What the fuck? I made sure the fucking place was clean before we left, and she didn't wear strong perfume, so how could I still smell her here? Everything in me screamed at my stupid ass to go and get her. Except I couldn't. She wasn't mine, didn't want me. Nothing I could do about that shit.
About the only choice I had was to get my head tight, work, win fights, and get the fuck on with my life. Feeling pretty defeated, I headed for the couch, holding my breath and trying not to breathe her into my lungs. I dropped into my usual seat, and immediately, the memory of every fucking time she sat there flooded into my brain. Thoughts of the feel and taste of her followed hard, like a head kick.
I jumped up like the damn furniture burned me, my sore and aching muscles screaming at the abuse. Fuck. Epsom salt soak. That's what I needed. With a goal to work toward, I ran the water, dumped in the salt, and found something to read on the app on my phone. And when I climbed in to let the hot water and minerals work their magic, there she fucking was again, her memory taunting me.
Unable to keep my mind on reading, I settled for music and forced myself to stay in the tub for twenty minutes. When I climbed out, at least my muscles and joints felt a little better, even if the rest of me did feel like something the cat ate for breakfast and puked up for supper.
Exhaustion dragged my ass toward my bed as soon as I dried off. I pulled the blanket back and collapsed face-first, unable to roll over even when Elena's scent surrounded me stronger than ever. Fuck, I should have gone on to the clubhouse.
I drifted to sleep, too tired to fight off her memory, and not really wanting to, for that matter. There for just a minute, I had something real in my life, something outside the Hell Raiders. Some might argue fighting was real, and it was, of course, but it also reeked of fairy-tales. How many fucking kids had that dream? Plenty. Most worked a little, and gave up when it got hard. The few who stuck with the training made it a few fights, if they were lucky. Making it beyond the local gyms and clubs, though, and actually winning enough to have a chance at a title? Fucking fairy-tale. Pure and simple.
But Elena? She was real. So real, the dream reached out and grabbed me unexpectedly.
She sat on the ground, dirt smudged on her cheek as she cried and huddled over a lifeless form. I looked around, startled to find myself here. Dim light filtered into the alley from the street and a river rat the size of a big cat brazenly crossed the alley. Fucker didn't even care who saw him.
The rat went on about his business, and I moved closer to Elena, just watching her. I wanted like everything to reach out and take her into my arms, to help her, but my body refused to obey the commands. Instead, I stood frozen to the spot.
Her sobs increased and she tried to gather the body into her arms. "Mama, I'm so sorry. Forgive me. I swear I didn't know." She cried harder, and still I stayed still as a statue. Trembling, she started to rock back and forth. "Oh, God, Mama, I should have stayed with Ryker. He would have helped us." Her tears suddenly turned to screams of terror.
That fucking rat. The thing had grabbed her arm with its paws, pulling at her, claws breaking skin and making her bleed. It sat back on its haunches for a second and stared straight up at me, and I swear the fucker smiled. A big, toothy rat smile. Then it turned back to Elena and opened its mouth. Long yellowed incisors flashed for an instant, right before they sank into her skin.
Elena's screams of pain echoed in my ears as I jolted out of sleep, breathing like I just finished a marathon. The scene from the dream replayed in my head. Fucking crazy shit.
I forced myself out of the bed and went to the fridge for water and gulped down a whole glass. Going back to bed seemed like a stupid idea at the moment, but I still ached with fatigue. So, I reasoned with myself that the dream came from my worry over what Royse might have in store for Elena. And there was nothing I could do about that, right?
Chapter Eighteen
Elena:
As soon as the door closed, I pulled away from Royse's grip and spun on him. "What the hell are you doing?"
His lips pursed with disapproval. "I'm surprised at you, Elena. Come, let's talk in your room, where we won't be overheard." He glances significantly at the door separating us from my mom.
Everything in me said to run and never look back, but I couldn't do that, not when he had my mom. With no choice, I gave a tight nod and followed him.
Rather than open one of the doors in the basement like I expected, he led me back to the first floor and into the lobby. Beyond the counter, which still looked as if it were waiting for rich guests to sign in, he led me to an elevator with a beautiful brass-barred gate.
Proud as a damned peacock, he lifted the gate and followed me into the small space, closed it, and turned a dial next to the door. "When I bought this place, the old elevator shaft had been bricked up. I had it restored at great expense. It took months of research, poring through old newspapers and photographs, to get all the details exactly right."
I fought the urge to roll my eyes, careful not to piss him off any more than I already had. Did he really think I gave even one small fuck about his building? "It's very nice." I kept my voice neutral, neither encouraging him, nor telling him what I really thought.
The cab rose slowly with a sickening sway and mechanical noise that made me seriously doubt Royse's restoration job. If he paid someone to do it, they should be ashamed.
My nervousness must have showed as I clutched the brass handrail, because he smiled. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it. It's far more reliable than any other elevator in the city. No computer components to malfunction."
Get used to it? How many times did he think I would be in the fucking thing? A bell dinged and I jumped, startled. The needle on the floor indicator above the door hovered over the two. The machinery groaned some more and after a minute, the bell dinged again, as the needle switched to the three. Which floor was he taking me to?
The needle finally stopped at six, the highest number on the gauge. The elevator groaned to a stop and Royse raise
d the brass gate once more, gesturing for me to step out first.
I looked around, unsure what to expect. Royse took my elbow and guided me toward the far end of the corridor. "There are only two suites up here. Mine and yours. I kept everything to the same theme as downstairs, the same as the original hotel. The only difference is that, for the penthouse, everything is the best of the best available for the period."
My brain stayed stuck back there where he said mine and yours. Did he think I was here to play hotel, or house, or anything else, with him?
At the end of the hall, he turned to the left and opened a pair of heavy wooden doors, carved to match the engraving on the front door and everything else. Hesitant, I stepped into a marble floored entry and stared around me at the gleaming wood-paneled walls and shining brass coat racks and wall sconces.
The dim lighting gradually brightened, and Royse closed the doors. "I did have to concede to modern wiring, unfortunately. The original gaslights would have eventually ruined the art and the wood, even if they were practically smokeless."
I nodded as if I had any idea what he meant. He took my arm again and led me through an arch, into a room that looked like something out of both a magazine, and a history book. A black piano, the kind with the big wing raised to make it look like some kind of beast, stood before a big window.
Nearby, a beautifully carved bar sparkled with crystal glasses and bottles filled with rich-looking liquids. A pair of fancy sofas with delicate-looking striped upholstery faced one another over a bright Oriental rug. Everywhere I turned, some new beauty gripped me. Apparently, my wide-eyed silence pleased Royse.
"I'm so glad you like it, my dear. Now sit. Let me get you a drink." He waved me toward a pair of leather chairs facing a big fireplace like the one in the lobby.
Unsure what else to do, I sat and clenched my shaking hands in my lap. I had no clue what to do with this kind of crazy, so I just kept my mouth shut and waited to see what happened. Maybe, with a little luck, I might get out alive.