It was almost too easy. This big lug was used to dealing with drunk bikers and rowdy truckers. He’d clearly never fought anybody with actual combat experience before.
By the time his fists reached where my head had been, I’d ducked easily out of the way – and Roy’d left himself wide open for me to plant two hard punches on the side of his big, ugly face.
The burly bouncer snarled, and staggered past me, shaking his head. I’d clearly stunned him – but the big bastard wasn’t going down easy.
The crowd had cheered when I’d hit him, and there was a collective “oooooh” as Roy wheeled around and snarled at me.
A trickle of blood was running down his chin, but he looked more pissed off than injured.
I raised my fists, and braced myself on my back foot, ready for whatever he tried.
Chapter Twenty Four
Roxy
My heart was pounding as I watched Travis and Roy face off against each other in the dirt circle.
It didn’t matter how many years I’d studied and practiced martial arts – things always felt different when people were really fighting.
And while Red had declared the competition was over at ‘tap, nap or snap’, I knew there was the very real danger that something could go wrong; and Travis and I wouldn’t get much help amongst this reprobate crowd of truckers and bikers.
So I bit my fist, and watched my ex-boyfriend as he prepared himself for Roy’s next move.
Once again, the lumbering bouncer came in with an unsophisticated barrage of punches – swinging his big fists like they were sledgehammers.
Travis ducked easily out of the way, and then popped up under the reach of Roy’s burly arms to deliver a one-two combo of jabs that crushed Roy’s nose like it was a ripe tomato.
It would have been enough to put a regular fighter on the floor – but Roy just snarled and shook his head – bringing his fists down like he was a wrecking ball.
And this time, Travis wasn’t quick enough to escape them. Roy pounded both his huge hands into my ex-boyfriend’s back, and Travis was slammed to the dirt like a sack of potatoes.
He had just enough time to roll aside, and avoided Roy’s boot as the bouncer brought it crushing down onto the dirt where Travis’ head had been a second earlier.
That alone might have killed him – but Travis’ situation didn’t improve much as he tried to scramble to his feet. Roy lumbered forward and slammed his fists to the side of Travis’ head, sending him sprawling to the dirt.
The crowd roared in approval, as Roy took a menacing step forward, ready to finish his opponent once and for all…
…but I knew Travis better than that, and he didn’t disappoint me.
Just as Roy lurched forward, ready to deliver a knock-out blow, Travis surprised him. He whipped out his long, lean legs and kicked Roy’s sturdy limbs out from under him. Like a felled oak, the burly bouncer went crashing down onto the dirt – and from then it was all over.
Even stunned and bloody, Travis struck with the speed and deadliness of a rattlesnake. He was on top of Roy in a heartbeat, wrapping his long, strong arm around the bouncer’s thick neck.
Roy snarled, and tried to haul himself to his knees – but Travis was on his back now, hooking his other arm behind Roy’s throat, and locking in a rear naked choke.
It was one of the most lethally effective moves in mixed martial arts – and a roughhouse bouncer like Roy was defenseless against it.
Bucking like a bronco, the pale, flabby bouncer struggled to shake Travis off his back – but my ex-boyfriend was on their like a limpet.
Travis tightened his grip, and Roy’s face went from red, to purple, and then to blue.
The fat man clawed at his throat, and his eyes bulged… and then he slumped into the first like a stunned elephant.
Travis held that brutal chokehold for a few more seconds – enough to confirm that Roy wasn’t feinting. And then he released the vice-like grip, and rolled off the fat man’s back onto the dirt.
They both lay there – Roy face down, and Travis staring up into the floodlights overhead.
The crowd was in stunned silence. For seconds, they just stood there in awe – before Red finally stepped into the dirt circle, and jabbed at Roy’s flabby, comatose body with the tip of his cowboy boot.
“He dead?” he asked.
Roy finally gurgled and groaned, and Red breathed a sigh of relief as the fat man stirred.
“He ain’t dead.”
And that’s when the crowd finally found their voice again.
They roared and hollered - even those who’d lost money on the fight impressed with its brutality.
As the crowd cheered, Red stepped up to where Travis was lying, and offered my ex-boyfriend his hand.
Reluctantly, Travis accepted it – and Red helped haul him to his feet.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Red grinned, turning to address the crowd. “We’ve got ourselves a winner.”
And then he hoisted Travis’ arm into the air, and the crowd lost their shit – roaring and cheering for my bloodied, filthy boyfriend.
I didn’t know whether to be proud, or disgusted. Instead, as I drank in Travis’ sweaty, shirtless torso, I found myself getting a little turned on, instead.
Chapter Twenty Five
Travis
“If it’s all the same to you,” I groaned, as Red finally let my arm flop back down by my side, “I’ll take that drink now.”
I was unsteady on my feet, and my lungs were filled with grit and blood. Choking that big, bastard Roy out had in no way been the most challenging fight of my career – but it was an easier winner for ‘dirtiest.’
“Sure thing, cowboy,” Red turned to me, and shook my reluctant hand. “You’ve earned it, hoss.”
He patted me on the shoulder.
“Now get your ass inside. We’ll settle up.”
With that, Red left me, to attend to Roy. The pale, flabby bouncer was getting hauled to his feet by two of Red’s bouncers, and was barely able to stand up.
For a second, I felt bad. A rear naked choke is brutally effective; and I’d expected him to tap out before he passed out. But then I remembered how the big bastard had clubbed me to the ground, and then tried to crush my head like a watermelon with his boot.
The fat asshole deserved everything he got.
Shaking my head, I wheeled around to where Roxy had been standing – and I found her staring over at me, my t-shirt clutched in her hands, and her blue eyes wide and glistening.
I smiled at her, and then spat out a mouthful of blood.
Staggering across the dirt, I held open my arms, and she ran into them – pressing her face against my sweaty, dirt-caked chest.
“Oh fuck, Travis,” Roxy breathed hotly into my chest. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”
She looked up – her cheek brown with dirt now.
“Are you okay?”
I snorted dryly.
“Sure.”
Truth be told, I wasn’t even sure, yet. After a fight there’s so much adrenalin churning through your veins, it’s difficult to even realize when you’re hurt or not.
But the worst I remembered Roy giving me was a punch or two to the face – and a black eye and a busted lip was probably the worst I’d end up with.
At least, I hoped so.
“Yo! Cowboy!”
It was Red again, swaggering up to us, as the crowd dispersed and slowly started filtering back upstairs into the bar.
“There’s a washroom and hose under the stairs,” he pointed to what looked like a rickety outhouse, beneath the raised floor of the old bar. “Get washed up and meet me back upstairs. We’ll talk.”
And then he handed me something – a neatly folded, black t-shirt. I opened it up and saw the logo of Ol’ Smokey’s emblazoned on the front.
“Consider that one a tip.”
And then, giving me a wink and a nod, Red followed the crowd of bikers and truckers as they headed upstairs – a
nd a moment later the sound of the band started reverberating through the open windows again.
Roxy and I were alone in the parking lot. Even Roy had been hauled off by the other bouncers, presumably to get patched up.
Roxy turned to me, and I suddenly felt her palm hard against my cheek.
“Ow!” I reached up to cup where she’d slapped me. “What in the hell was that for?”
“That was for scarin’t he bejesus out of me, Travis,” Roxy snarled, and I’d forgotten how cute she was when she was made. She punched me lightly in the ribs. “Jesus, what where you thinking? You could have got hurt.”
I snorted, and wiped blood from the cut above my right eye.
“What does this look like, honey? It’s hardly a kiss.”
She snarled again, and I decided not to push the subject.
“Dammit, Travis. You’re in town for less than two days, and look what’s happened?” She snorted, shaking her pretty head. “Last week I was complaining about how fucking boring this shitbox town is. Now look at me.”
And I did look at her.
I looked down at curvy, compact little Roxy, with her tousled black hair and big blue eyes. She looked gorgeous, even in the unforgiving glare of the floodlights, and I couldn’t have thought of anybody in the world I’d want by my side through all this.
“I’m sorry,” I told her, and reached over to curl my fingers around her arms. “It’s all a great, big, fucking mess and I’m sorry I dragged you into it.”
And Roxy looked up, and her plump, red lips curled deliciously.
“Well, everything happens for a reason,” she told me. “And if nothing else, all this excitement helps me forget how goddamn mad at you I was.”
And then, to my surprise, Roxy stood up on her tiptoes, and pressed her lips hotly against mine.
It was different from the kiss earlier. That had been in the heat of the moment – a desperate this-could-be-goodbye to somebody dear to me.
But now, I felt Roxy’s hands circle my bare waist, and her lips writhed against mine. This was a kiss. A real kiss.
And I kissed her back.
I wrapped my arms around Roxy’s curvy frame, and I kissed her with all my might; slipping my tongue into her mouth even as I dug my fingers into her supple, muscular flesh.
God, she tasted delicious – just as I remembered her. The smell of her hair. The heat of her breath. I was suddenly eighteen again, kissing her for the first time, and it made my stomach flip.
And my jeans grow cramped…
In fact, just as I was starting to develop a painful hard-on, Roxy pulled her lips away from mine and dropped back down to the balls of her feet.
She looked up at me, eyes wide and mouth half open. I’d kissed the lipstick from her swollen lips.
“W-we better get back upstairs,” she gasped, and I could hear the reluctance in her voice.
I reached down and adjusted my painfully cramped erection.
“S-sure,” I gasped, as reluctant as she was to break the spell. “Let me wash up some, and we’ll go talk to that bastard Red.”
Chapter Twenty Six
Roxy
A few moments later, washed up as best he could, Travis took my hand and we clambered up the creaking steps back into Ol’ Smokey’s.
He was wearing the t-shirt Red had handed him, and if it was possible he looked even sexier. The t-shirt was probably a size too small – and it clung to every curve of Travis’ taut, lean, muscular body. Staring at his broad back as he climbed the stairs whet my appetite for another kiss… and that wasn’t the only thing it wet.
But we had business to take care of before that.
Travis pushed open the door to Ol’ Smokey’s, and we forced ourselves into the loud, smoky bar.
People had got out of Travis’ way before, but now the crowd of bikers and truckers parted almost like the Red Sea – with the tough-looking crowd giving Travis respectful nods and grunts as he passed. Clearly he’d impressed them out there in the makeshift fighting circle.
That made it easy to reach the VIP section – where, once again, Red was lounging back on the sofa – this time with one of the skinny girls he’d been sitting with earlier sprawled across his lap.
Because of the blonde, Red didn’t even attempt to get up – but he beckoned us over, and snapped his fingers at a waitress to bring over drinks.
“C’mon, c’mon,” Red grinned, as Roy’s replacement – one of the bouncers Travis had knocked out that afternoon – lifted the velvet rope and admitted us into the raised VIP section.
Travis took a seat in the creaking leather chair on one side of the sofa, and I nervously sunk down into the other.
“Well, hell, boy,” Red grinned, stroking the blonde’s ass as she wriggled in his lap. “That was some performance out there.” He reached into his top pocket and pulled out a packet of Parliaments. The girl in his lap lit the cigarette for him, as he jabbed it in his mouth.
Travis leaned back in his seat – looking a lot more confident and calmer than he had before the fight.
“So, we’re good, right?” He growled.
Red blew smoke into the blonde’s face, and she closed her eyes and breathed it in luxuriously.
“Sure ‘nuff, pardner,” the redhead nodded, grinning. He held up one arm – now adorned with Travis’ Tag Hueur around his wrist. “I’ll give you five hundred for this, an’ five hundred for chokin’ out poor Roy.” He took another long drag from his cigarette. “All told, that’s a week’s reprieve for your old man.”
But then Red leaned forward, and pushed the pretty blonde off his lap.
She landed on her add on the floorboards, and screamed: “Shit!” as Red kicked her away.
“But here’s the deal, hoss,” clearly all business now, Red leaned towards Travis, and warned: “I’ll expect another grand this time next week, or your old man’s still gonna need crutches.”
I looked at Travis very closely as Red said this, and I saw my ex-boyfriend’s hands curl into fists. His face was a mask, but I knew him well enough to know that behind that still expression was a murderous rage.
Nobody threatened people Travis cared about and got away with it.
Or did they?
Because that’s exactly what Red was doing – and I imagined part of Travis’ frustration was knowing there was nothing he could do about it.
As Travis sat there seething, Red continued talking.
“Tell you what, son,” he grinned, as he puffed on his cigarette. “I know you and your old man are hurtin’ for money right now. So how about I do somethin’ for you?”
Stubbing out the cigarette on the table, Red reached for his can of Miller Lite, and sucked down a mouthful.
“You held up pretty well tonight. You might have lost those last two fights on TV, but you’ve still got it where it counts, son.”
He wiped the foam from his beard.
“How about you come and fight for me? Five hundred a gig, twice a week.” The redhead’s lips curled. “Six weeks or so, and you’ll have paid off your old man’s debt – and we’ll be square, hoss.”
Travis blinked.
Right then, I didn’t know what he was thinking. The anger was still burning in his eyes… but, dammit, I knew how desperate Travis was…
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
That answered my question.
“I earned ten times that my last fight,” Travis growled, leaning in towards Red with fire in his eyes. “Who the fuck do you think I am?”
Red didn’t back down. Shit, he didn’t even blink.
“I think you’re five grand in the hole, and plum out of options,” the redhead grinned. “So I wouldn’t dismiss my generous offer quite so readily.”
Fortunately, the waitress arrived with drinks at that moment; and both Red and Travis slumped back into their seats at the distraction.
I gratefully accepted the ice-cold Corona she handed over, and the shot of whiskey that came with it.
“Te
ll you what, cowboy,” Red grinned, raising his shot glass with one hand, and beckoning the dislodged blonde back with the other, “why don’t you have a think about it?”
And then, in unison, all three of us gulped down the searing shot of well whiskey.
It didn’t take long for Travis and I to finish our beers, and as we did it became clear that our welcome was over.
“You did good tonight, son,” Red nodded, as Travis clambered up from the chair, and scowled at the bearded redhead. “But you’d better be coming to me with a ‘yes’ on the job offer, or a bundle of cash, by this time next week.”
And, with that, two of the bouncers stepped into the VIP section and gestured for us to leave.
Travis reached over and curled his fingers in mine – leading us past the bouncers towards the doorway.
A moment later we were out of the smoky, rowdy club – climbing down those creaking stairs into the dark parking lot.
* * *
At the bottom of the stairs, Travis pulled me away from the scowling bouncer, and into the shadows beneath the towering, stilted building.
“Fuck,” he cursed, as he pushed me against one of the study wooden stilts. “Fuck, Roxy. What do I do?”
He looked up at the bar overhead. We were standing roughly under where Red had been sitting, in his VIP section.
“I-I can’t go and fight for him,” Travis breathed. “I mean, shit. I don’t even step into the octagon for less than five grand in purse money. And that redheaded bastard wants me to fight for him for five hundred measly bucks?”
And then he turned back to me, and Travis’ eyes shone with fiery intensity.
“But what do I do, Roxy? I don’t have the money to pay that bastard back? But I can’t go and fight for him.”
He grabbed my shoulders, and lowered his face until it was an inch from mine.
“I mean it, Roxy. It’s not just pride. I can’t do parking lot, bare-knuckle fights twice a week.” He gulped dryly. “Fuck, what do I do?”
I’d never seen him like this.
Trigger: An Alpha Bad Boy MMA Romance Page 8