Rumblin' Knights Boxed Set
Page 64
Yeah, I’m angry.
I can feel his eyes on me as I stand and announce, “I’m going to get another drink.”
I make my way toward the house. It’s incredibly dark out. The only guide is the lights shining from the beautiful home overlooking the ocean. I just walk toward those. As I get closer, it gets a little easier to see.
“Goin’ to ignore me all night?”
Brody’s voice creeps up behind me and I jump, having had no idea he was following me. I walk up the steps without a word and around the side of the house, heading toward the back entrance. A big hand curls over my shoulder, spinning me around and pressing me against the wall of the house in almost complete darkness.
“What do you want, Brody?” I say, my tone snakey and pissed.
“I want to know why you are ignorin’ me.”
“You can’t be serious?” I mutter. “You basically accused me of being heartless, because I don’t understand what’s going on with Mick, and I’m concerned.”
“You’re not even tryin’ to understand, or help him. You don’t want him around, that much is obvious.”
I lose my shit.
I’m sick of being made out like some sort of monster when I’ve been nothing but accommodating.
“Did I complain once when Mick came to stay with us?” I yell, angry, fists clenched. “No! Do I not feed him every night, clean up after him, listen to him rage all through my house without complaint? Do I not stay the fuck out of his way, your way, and let you do your thing? How dare you accuse me of not caring, of not understanding. I’ve lived in my own home, feeling uncomfortable, for nearly two months now. I haven’t complained once. I’ve missed out on you, on our time together, on everything that matters to me, and I haven’t complained once. You want to know who’s fuckin’ selfish here, Brody? It’s you. Because you’re putting him before fucking everything, including me.”
My voice has raised so much, I’m almost certain that everyone down at the fire probably heard, but I don’t give a crap. No, I don’t care because it’s true. I have been so accommodating and understanding, but I’ve had enough. Brody has put Mick before everything and has the nerve to accuse me of being unsympathetic when I bring it up.
“You haven’t fucked me for weeks. So don’t you stand there and put all the blame on me, you … you … jerk!”
I shove at his chest, but he doesn’t move.
He doesn’t say anything.
He’s just standing there, all six feet of pure muscle, not saying a damned word.
He’s panting. I’ve pissed him off. Well good, I’m glad, because he made me damn angry too.
“You want to be fucked, is that it?” he growls, his voice low and raspy.
I hate that my body responds with a shudder and a clench in the places that have longed for him for the last few weeks.
I want him to fuck me, more than anything.
I also need him to understand.
“I can fuck you. I can fuck you until you forget everything else but me.”
His voice is sexy, so damned sexy. I can’t help the pathetic whimper that leaves my lips when his hands find my shorts and he jerks them down. Anger, passion, rage, sexual tension, it all builds until we’re both clawing at each other’s clothes, desperate to remove them, desperate to be close to one another.
Brody frees his cock, lifts my leg around his hip, and then he’s inside me. He’s inside me deep and hard, and I stretch around him painfully, but it’s pure bliss. I love every second of it. I love the way it makes me feel. I want to feel this moment right here, every day, for the rest of my life.
“Oh, god,” I whimper as he starts fucking me with a force I’m sure he’s never used before.
“You want to be fucked, baby, you just had to say that word.”
I claw at his back as he drives into me, cock filling me, body surrounding me. It feels incredible, everything about Brody is incredible.
“More,” I breathe. “Please, more.”
He fucks me harder, faster, until I can’t hold back the moans of pleasure as I orgasm, clenching around him, fingers digging into his flesh. He hisses and then groans low and deep as he finds his release too, both of us desperate, both of us having spent way too long not having sex.
When our bodies stop and our hearts slow and the pleasure subsides and turns into a blissful warmth, he pulls out and releases me. Silently, I pull my clothes back on and run my fingers through my hair, not that I think that’ll take away from the fact that I’m sure by now everyone knows we just had sex.
I don’t know what to say to Brody, I don’t even know what to do.
I don’t need to worry, he steps over and curls his hand around the back of my neck, pulling me close and kissing me softly, then he murmurs against my lips, “You’re everything to me, Melanie. Don’t ever doubt for a fuckin’ second that I’d die for you.”
I swallow the lump that forms in my throat and whisper, “Then please listen to me. Please.”
He exhales, and then tells me, “Tomorrow, we’ll talk. Tonight, let’s just enjoy, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
As we walk back to the beach, hand in hand, I wonder how that’s going to go.
Will he hear me?
Or will he just listen because he knows it’ll shut me up?
Either way, we’re going to fix this, or it will, without a doubt, be what breaks us.
For good.
9
NOW – MELANIE
Wow.
There are simply no other words to describe how that fight felt inside. It was terrifying, and thrilling, and so captivating I couldn’t look away. I watched every moment of it, unable to tear my eyes from the two men beating each other in that ring. Every punch made my stomach turn, yet I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t pull myself from it. The roaring crowd, the way they got so into it.
It was out of this world.
Unlike anything I’ve ever felt or seen in my life.
I can sort of understand now why Brody does what he does. Why it makes him feel better. Why it draws him closer. It could be one of the only things to tear his demons from him, one of the only things to truly silence them for just a little while.
“What did you think?” Damon asks me, nudging me with his shoulder.
“I don’t really know what to think, except wow. That was unlike anything I could have ever imagined.”
“Pretty intense, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Melanie,” Lincoln says, and I turn around to see him entering the room followed by a man. I have no idea who that man is, but he obviously knows Lincoln because he’s not acting like he’s worried or concerned.
“Yeah?” I ask, a little concerned myself.
“This is Jerome. He owns a fightin’ club. Might be able to help us find your boy. I’m goin’ to ask him some things, if anythin’ comes up that you recall, or brings any sort of memory, you let me know, yeah?”
“Oh, yeah. No problem.”
Jerome looks to Lincoln and mutters, “A woman, man? You serious.”
“Trust me, she’s good. Nothin’ will leave this room. Promise you that.”
Oh, boy.
I feel a little uncomfortable now, that’s for sure.
Damon shuffles a little closer, which makes me feel better.
“We’re lookin’ for someone, someone who is trying to hunt down a fighter. A good fighter. He’s got beef with him, and he’s goin’ to take him on in a death match. Know you’re up there in who comes and goes. You got any big matches comin’ up?”
Jerome nods. “Got one next weekend at Slay. Big fuckin’ deal. Shit loads of money on it. Lookin’ for some fighters to go up against the best out there, Sniper. You probably haven’t heard of him, he doesn’t come this way often.”
Sniper.
Sniper.
I blink a few times, and then ask Lincoln, “Sniper is his name?”
Lincoln nods, “It’s what he goes by, yeah. Familiar to you?”
“You think that could be the man he’s after?” Lincoln asks me.
I nod. “I think it could be, yeah.”
“Who you lookin’ for?” Jerome asks Lincoln, still studying me like he just doesn’t trust me.
“Man named Brody.”
Jerome raises his brows, “No fuckin’ kidding. He came in yesterday, lookin’ for someone to speak with in regard to that fight. Told him he was out of his fuckin’ mind, but he said he wanted to go against Sniper. Sent him away, but he told me he’d be back, over and over, until I agreed.”
My heart starts to race. Brody was there? He was there? He’s still alive?
I bring my hands together in my lap, squeezing tightly, trying to maintain my calm. Trying to be cool so we can get as much information as possible right now.
“He got any chance of gettin’ in on that fight?” Lincoln asks.
“That depends, right now I ain’t got anyone to go against Sniper at this stage, so I came here tonight to see if you had a fighter. You tell me he’s good for it, I’ll consider it. Sniper is undefeated. He’ll be risking his life. But he already knows that.”
“No,” I say, my voice way too high pitched and freaked out for my liking. “No, he’s not going in. Tell him no, Lincoln. Tell him that Brody is not going to fight. Tell him.”
Damon puts a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “It’s okay, calm down.”
“Not my call to make, Melanie,” Lincoln tells me. “Brody is goin’ to find a way in, one way or another. If you’re asking for my honest opinion on this, this is the safest option for him. Unless you can get him to give up completely, to put his plans of revenge to rest, then he’ll find a way into Sniper’s cage, so to speak, no matter how hard we fight him. At least I can prepare him, if I know he’s goin’ in.”
“No,” I cry out, frustrated. Why are they helping him? Why aren’t they listening to me? “Damon, tell them no!”
“Damon,” Lincoln says calmly, “take her out.”
“Lincoln!” I screech, panic gripping my chest. “Don’t sign him up to die! Don’t be a monster!”
“Brody signed himself up to die, get that through your head, Melanie,” Lincoln roars, frustrated. “If I sign him up, I give him a fightin’ fuckin’ chance of livin’. If I don’t, he’ll go in alone and die without a doubt, or worse, he’ll find another way to get to Sniper and it’ll find him dead, too. Either way, he’s goin’ to do this. Take your emotion out and use your brain.”
“Fuck you,” I cry angrily as Damon grabs me and starts pulling me out of the room. “You were supposed to help me, damn you! Not sign him up to die!”
Damon takes me out of the room, out of the club, and the entire time, I’m just glaring straight ahead. I’m so angry I tremble. I’m so damn disappointed in Lincoln. He’s sending Brody into the lion’s den, without even giving him a chance. Without even giving me a chance. What if I could talk to him? To change his mind? To do something, anything to stop him?
Are they even going to give me that chance?
If Brody finds out he can fight, nothing in the world I say or do will stop him.
What if I can stop him?
Lincoln is taking that away from me.
Damn him.
Damn them all.
~*~*~*~
“You calm?” Damon asks when we arrive back at Lucy’s apartment.
I get out of the car without saying a word. I haven’t said a word since we left that club. I walk up the front steps into Lucy’s apartment. When I get inside, she’s already home and her boyfriend, Nicolai, is here, too. He’s a nice guy, but it’s hard for me to say that with confidence considering this is only the second time I’ve seen him.
“Hey,” Lucy says, standing, her cheeks flushed. “How did it go?”
I look at her, and she must see the pain in my eyes, because she immediately loses her smile and says, “Melanie? Is everything okay?”
“No,” Damon says, walking into the apartment behind me. “No it’s not okay. She’s pissed.”
I spin around, frustrated. “And why wouldn’t I be, Damon? Your brother is going to send Brody off like he’s nothing. Like his life means nothing.”
“If you’d listen, with an open mind, you might understand …”
“Understand what?” I screech. “That you’re all okay with this? I’m not. You’re not even giving me a chance to go and see if I can change his mind.”
“If his mind could be changed, Melanie, it would have been by now. You know that. Deep down you know that.”
“I’m not listening to this,” I say, my voice cracking.
I turn and walk down the hall and into my bedroom, shutting the door. I walk over to my bed and sit on the end of it, head dropping, heart burning.
I don’t even want to move. I have nothing right now.
I don’t know what to feel, or what to do. The worst part is feeling like I have nobody on my side. Like once again, I’m completely alone. I pull out my phone and I dial Lee. He’s been trying to call every single day, and other than me flicking him and everyone else a few texts to tell them I’m okay, I haven’t spoken to any of them.
I just can’t.
But right now, I need him. I need someone who will understand.
“Mel?” he says, the minute one ring has gone through.
He answered that fast I’m not prepared. For a moment, I just sit there in silence.
“Mel, are you there?”
“Lee?” I whisper into the phone, my hand trembling.
“What is it? Mel, what’s going on? Is it Brody?”
“I don’t think I can do this anymore. I don’t … I can’t …”
“Calm down, take a breath, and talk to me. Tell me what’s happened.”
I exhale, then take a few calming breaths, and I tell him what has happened since I’ve been here. When I’m done, the phone is silent for a moment. For so long, he doesn’t say anything. I figure he’ll get angry, be on my side, tell me that Lincoln is wrong and help me figure something out, but instead, he shocks me completely by saying, “I think he has a point.”
“What?” I say, my voice a breathy hiss.
“Melanie, calm down and hear me out. Please. You’re putting your emotion into this, which I understand, I really do, but please listen.”
“He’s signing him up to die, Lee!”
“No, honey,” he says, his voice calm, “Brody already signed himself up to die. He did that on his own. Your friend Lincoln is right. One way or another, Brody is going to find this Sniper guy, and he’s going to seek out his revenge. He’ll likely get hurt, or worse. This way, it’s controlled. This way, he might actually have a chance.”
“So by putting him in a ring with a professional fighter who is unbeaten is the best way to save Brody right now? That’s what you’re saying to me?”
“Melanie …”
“No, Lee,” I yell, my chest clenching. “You’re his brother. You’re not supposed to give up on him this easily.”
“This easily?” Lee snaps back. “You can’t be serious? We’ve all tried. We’ve all done everything we can to change Brody’s mind. Nobody, and I mean nobody is changing his mind. Not you. Not me. Not anyone else. He’s going to do this, Lincoln is right about that, you can either help him to give him a chance at making it out alive, or you can keep your head buried in the sand and let him die. Because he will die, if he does this on his own. If you can’t see that, then you’re not truly looking.”
“Screw you,” I whisper, hanging up.
I throw the phone across the room and tears burn under my eyelids. I try to fight them, I really do, but I can’t hold them in a second longer. They roll down my cheeks in angry waves. My phone rings across the room somewhere, n
o doubt Lee calling back, but I don’t answer it. I have nothing to say to him, or Lincoln, or Damon, or anyone else for that matter.
“Honey?”
I look up to see Lucy standing at the door, a cup of tea in her hand. She takes one look at me, puts the tea down, and rushes over. She sits on the bed beside me, turning to face me but not touching me.
“It’s going to be okay,” she tells me, her voice understanding and calm.
“How?” I croak. “Either way, they’re basically telling me he’s going to lose his life. He’s going to die. He’s going to die because of some stupid revenge path. What about me, Lucy? Does he ever stop, even for a second, and think about what this will do to me?”
“Oh, honey,” she says, reaching over and putting her arm around me.
It feels nice.
After being so alone it feels nice.
“He’s so determined to get his revenge, but he’s not once thought of the fact that in doing that, he’ll leave me alone, heartbroken and wounded for the rest of my life. He’ll go out, feeling better about himself, but he’ll transfer all that darkness onto me. Doesn’t he see that?”
“I don’t think Brody sees anything clearly and that’s his problem right now.”
“They’re going to send him in to die. Nobody understands why that hurts me, kills me on the inside. Nobody.”
“I understand,” Lucy tells me. “I understand because I accidentally saw a death match, and it has tormented me ever since. It was horrific, and I don’t ever know why anyone would help another person be in that situation. I’m on your side, honey. I know you want one last chance at changing his mind.”
“Is that pathetic?” I say, looking to her, tears still rolling down my cheeks. “That even after it all, I’m still hanging onto to some pathetic chance that he might change his mind? That I might just be enough to get him to want to stop what he’s doing and be with me? That he loves me enough?”
“No,” Lucy tells me. “No it’s not pathetic, it’s not pathetic at all. You love him. You don’t have to apologize to anyone for that.”