KISS MY ASS: The Damned Crew Book 1

by M. G Rayne

  “MINE!”

  “MINE, MINE, MINE!”

  The Reaper doesn’t know but there is something more deadly in the warehouse than she is. That something is me. I will own her - gorgeous body and soul.

  If you try to run, baby, it will make it all the sweeter. I love a good chase. I always get what I want.

  You belong to me.

  I turn to my brothers to see shock, awe and lust across their faces. We all look to the cage as the padlock is taken off the door and The Reaper steps out onto the stairs. Slowly making her way down into the crowd and past Alexander who looks like he’s about to have a heart attack at any moment.

  He makes a grab for her right arm, catches her above her elbow and drags her through the crowd toward his office. Shouting at her as he goes, he doesn’t know this yet but he has just touched what belongs to me and I plan to collect my money, my woman and remove his hand as a lesson.

  “Don’t worry, Baby. I'm on my way,” I mumble to myself as me and my brothers make our way across the warehouse following them to his office.

  Reika.

  Once the padlock is removed from the outer door, I brush the feeling of being watched off and step out of the cage. I make my way down in an exhausted state, my ribs hurting like a bitch. I am definitely gonna be a mess by tomorrow. As I take a step to walk through the crowd, who are still screaming my win, I come face to face with a red-faced Alexander. Whoops, looks like the boss man wants to shout at me himself instead of having his grunt Rocco do it. I am so tired his movement doesn’t even register until I feel him gripping my arm.

  “You little bitch!” he seethes.

  “Who, me?” I question.

  “Yes, you. Don’t play stupid.”

  He starts dragging me through the crowd toward the office. Ah shit, no way of talking myself out of this one.

  Once inside the office Alexander slams the door and stands with his back to it.

  “You stupid, snot-nosed little tart! Do you know what you’ve done?” he bellows.

  “Huh?” My brain is really struggling to keep up with what is going on.

  “Go a few rounds to appease the crowd, and then drop like a sack of shit. The plan was you lose the fucking fight! You were meant to lose!” he screams.

  I’m still looking at him as if I don’t have a care in the world, which I really should care about because it’s not likely that I will be taking any winnings home.

  “Why didn’t you drop like you were meant to?”

  I snigger.

  “Answer meeeeeeee!”

  I’m still chuckling to myself which turns into full blown belly laughs when my brain registers what he shouted. The longer I take to answer him the more agitated he is getting. I can see it in the way his shoulders are set and the grinding of his teeth.

  “Dude! Take a breath, your face is that red. Any more pressure and you’re going to blow,” I say trying to stop laughing which is making the situation worse.

  “Take a breath, take a fucking breath!” he screeched. “You fucked me over, Reaper. You were supposed to throw the fight. You’re gonna pay for this, you stupid bitch. You owe me a lot of money.”

  “What do you mean I owe you a lot of money? You and your boy Rocco told me you wanted me to eat the mat, just so your grandson didn’t take a hit to the ego!” I seethe. I’m so fucking done with this bullshit. My body and brain start running faster and faster as my brain puts the pieces together. Alexander wouldn’t be so pissed off if it was a case of bruised ego. No, this is more than that.

  “What the fuck did you do, Alexander?”

  “I told you to lose the fight, Reika.”

  Oh, shit. Alexander never calls me by my real name in this warehouse. I use the name Reaper to keep my real name out of the mouths of those people who come to the fight circles.

  “Who do you owe money to?”

  The colour drains from Alexander's face as I hit the nail on the head. He owes money to someone who puts the fear of God into him. It is clear from his pale complexion and wide eyes.

  “Alexander, who do you owe money to? It's obvious that you owe money to someone.”

  “You are gonna have to pay this money back, Reika. I borrowed money from some people that I had no business dealing with.” He starts to pace up and down the length of the office. My brain has worked out what it needs to. I am not to blame for this, it's Mason’s problem. If he hadn’t threatened to rape me, I would have thrown the fight.

  “Work the club, that's how she can repay the money, yeah she can work at the strip club and dance if she has too”.

  “Like fuck! I am not dancing in your strip club.” That’s it, my exhaustion has transformed into full-on rage. Who the fuck does he think he is to suggest that I strip to pay off a debt that is not mine?

  “You will dance to pay this debt off, Reika!”

  “Like fuck I will, Alexander! If anyone fucked you over it was Mason!” I shout, my voice getting louder to the point of no return. I’m shaking and fidgeting, I need to get out of here soon or else I’m gonna get stabby.

  “What do you mean it was Mason?” He spins on me so fast I’m surprised his head didn’t roll off.

  “Mason threatened to rape me in the cage.” No shock, nothing registers on his face, so this must be a regular occurrence. I have heard the rumors that Mason likes to get handsy with some of the dancers from the club.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He told me I must like his hands all over me. That’s why I was dragging the fight out. He said if I didn’t give up, then he was going to fuck me one way or another on the outside of the cage.”

  Reika Martins trying to diffuse a situation. I am more of a punch or stab first, ask questions later, kinda girl. Who’d of thought it, huh? If only Dr Ivanka Ivan could see me now. I snort, the crazy bitch would have a field day with this. I had six months of weekly sessions with the good doctor and she considered me a lost cause, too broken to be able to work through my problems. That story is my own, not a soul outside of her and I know what I’ve been through in my life. All they know is I was the eleven-year-old girl they found outside a burning building screaming for her family inside. That is why they call me Reaper. My mother and father, little brother and sister died that night. As far as the emergency services were concerned, it was a faulty gas supply and wrote it off as a freak accident. But the kids started calling me Reaper from that day saying I brought death to the people I care about. Guess the name stuck.

  “You will repay your debt by dancing in the club, Reika.”

  “Like hell I will, old man. This is your debt, your fucking problem… I will not be used as a scapegoat because you fucked up!”

  Suddenly, I hear a throat clear. Not realizing anyone had entered the office while me and Alexander were arguing, I spun so quick my eyes rattled in my head. Fuck me, there are three gorgeous men near the door. Well calling them men is an understatement. They look like the type that good parents warn their daughters about. The type of men who are made to fuck and make a good girl sin. Turning to my side so I can keep an eye on the new additions in the room, I look over to Alexander who has suddenly gone very quiet. My brain is quick to catch up. These are obviously the people he owes money to, the look of absolute terror on his face is all the confirmation I need. How could three guys like this cause so much fear? I turn my body again to gauge the three men better while waiting for one of them to open their mouth.

  All three of them are wearing jeans and wife beaters with leather jackets. The two standing behind the mountain are without a doubt twins. They are identical in how they look, but it's rather obvious to anyone their personalities are polar opposite. The one on the right, closest to the door, is grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Don’t get me wrong, he’s very easy on the eyes, standing around six-foot five, black hair that’s tousled on top and closely shaved on the sides. His bright blue eyes are as clear as some of the oceans you see on holiday and muscles in all the right places from what I can tell. He
’s the leanest of the bunch. Even though he comes across as the friendliest, he’s got a look of pure mischief. Something is hidden in his depths. A sadistic twinkle like he could flip a switch and slit someone’s throat and smile while doing it. A shiver runs down my spine. Worst part is he’s staring openly at me, like a puzzle that needs to be pulled to pieces just so he can try to put it back together again.

  Stooge two is openly staring at me with a frown on his face. Six-foot five, black hair in a messy style - he looks like he runs his hands through it when thinking. The same blue eyes as the other, but instead of the friendly appearance the other has, this one is guarded. It’s obvious he would rather be anywhere but here. More built in the muscle department, not sure if he has the body of a fighter or the steroid-taking body builders you sometimes see coming out of the gyms.

  Then there’s the front man, the mountain himself. Fuck me, he’s a lethal injection straight to women’s ovaries. Shit, there should be a law against looking that good. Yep, you guessed it, my blood is currently rushing south to my vagina. The thirsty bitch that she is, she definitely likes the look of him. Standing around an inch or so taller than the other two, his hair looks to be the darkest black I have ever seen. Closely shaved to his head on either side. A well-kept beard graces his face. It's quite clearly natural muscle, but the dude is huge, he must walk through a door sideways because of the breadth of his shoulders. Slowly raising my eyes from his feet back up his thick thighs to his torso, chest and shoulders my eyes land back on his face. His eyes that are staring at me look like they are black, a complete soulless black as if something’s missing. The aura itself coming from him would make anyone want to run into moving traffic. One hundred percent alpha douchebag that knows he’s God's gift to women. He’s like the jocks with the God complex we see in school, only a thousand times stronger and his top coating is dipped in sin.

  Don’t get me wrong, I’m a red-blooded female and goddamn this dude is fine but would definitely be a detriment to someone’s mental health, and mine’s questionable at best.

  I’ve only just realized not one person has said a word in the time it’s taken for me to look over the newcomers. A pungent smell fills the office. Has Alexander pissed himself?

  “Who the fuck are these three stooges, Alex?”

  “Reaper, for fuck’s sake, shut up!”

  I turn to the three stooges. “Who the fuck are you since you’ve obviously stood here listening to a conversation that doesn’t concern you!”

  “Reaper, shut it! I’m sorry, gentlemen. She’s had a bit of a sheltered life and doesn’t know when to shut her mouth.” This comment makes frosty stooge two, as I’m going to call him, laugh.

  “You think that’s funny, fuck face?” I question while surveying the room.

  “You're full of shit, Alex. I haven’t had a sheltered life; you and I both know it. I will call you on your bullshit. The stench of fear pumping out of your pores is so thick I could cut it with a knife. Plus, I’m pretty sure you have just pissed your pants at the sight of these three!”

  “She’s pretty observant,” says the Cheshire cat.

  “A woman should learn to keep her pretty nose out of things that don’t concern her,” replies stooge two.

  Oh no, this motherfucker did not just go there.

  “Keep my pretty nose out of shit that doesn’t concern me?” I ask dripping in sarcasm. “This situation concerns me and sir piss-a-lot over there, so why don’t you and the other two stooges walk your asses back outside and wait your goddamn fucking turn!” I snap.

  Stooge two goes to take a step forward, but the mountain holds his arm out to stop him. “Brother, stop letting a little girl wind you up. She is nothing. A nobody!” Ouch! that stung. If I was your typical girl, I would probably cry at a comment like that.

  “Yeah, that’s it, Frosty, go back to the corner of your cage and stop rattling the bars because your master says so!” I have got a sickly-sweet grin splashed across my face. God, smiling like this makes me want to vomit.

  “The thing is, Frosty, don’t ever step toward me threateningly again or I’ll remove your balls and add them to my collection of keepsakes.” Cheshire laughs with a surprised look on his face, like he can’t believe I have the guts to say shit like that to Frosty. I have a bigger pair of balls than the majority of the men I’ve ever met in my life, and no jumped-up prick like Frosty is going to try intimidating me.

  “Alexander, is our conversation over? I’m going to go chase down Rocco and get my cut for tonight since it looks like you have more pressing matters that you need to sort out.”

  “Ummmmmmm...” Clearly, he’s still trying to process everything. I turn on my heel and aim for the door. Unfortunately, I have three assholes standing in my way. Well, fuck, that’s never stopped me before, so my ass keeps walking until I side check one, two then three. I make it through the door and practically sag under the relief of not being in that office any longer. Since my adrenaline has gone, I am beyond exhausted. Time to get the hell out of here and take my ass to bed. I look across the arena and not three feet in front of me is Rocco finishing whatever it is he’s doing.

  “Hey, Rocco.”

  “What’s up, Reaper? Did boss man rip you a new one for going off script?”

  “Yeah, yeah. He was trying to when he received three big-ass visitors in the office.”

  “Who?”

  “How the fuck should I know? Boss man says to give me some of my cut from tonight and we are gonna sort it out about me going off script next week.”

  “Uh, yeah, okay. But if I get fucked for this...”

  “You won’t, trust me.”

  We head over to the counters’ table. They are dealing with the money that was made tonight on bets and Rocco grabs three stacks of bills, handing them over.

  “I’ll give you three stacks now and then you sort the rest out with boss man, yeah?”

  “Sweet. Cheers.”

  I stuff the bills into my bag, spin toward the door, then stroll across the warehouse floor. I can hear raised voices… but it’s not clear enough to understand what is being said. I push open the old, rickety door and make it out into the fresh air. Walking down the street that leads straight from the warehouse, I take a right at the end of the block and keep walking until I cross the old train tracks that split the industrial part of the town with the actual town itself. Fifteen minutes later I can see the sign for the garage. My friend Tom owns it and lets me live above it for nothing. He says he won’t take rent from me because it’s like he has his own security guard. Climbing the old metal staircase at the back of the garage I eventually get my key into the door, then with a click I step into my sanctuary. Making my way through my tiny apartment I decide I’m too tired for food or a shower. Flopping my ass on top of my bed I feel my eyelids close, taking me into dreamland. Hopefully tonight is a nightmare free night.

  Chapter Three

  Kane

  Wow, the girl has balls. I'll give her that one. I’ve never met anyone who has the balls to talk to Liam like that. Telling us to walk our asses back out the door and wait our turn like the Queen of England. My brain can’t figure it out either. She’s either stupid or has a death wish.

  “Tut, tut Alexander, you owe me money.”

  “I…… I……. I can get you the money! I just need some time.” The vile little cockroach says.

  “You promised us when you borrowed the money the return on this would be more than we bargained for.” I start to make my way further into his office, he knows he screwed up. It’s written all over his face. Walking past I get a strong smell of something disgusting. I take another small inhale, my pretty bird was right. He has pissed his pants. I sit down behind his desk, lean back in the chair and place my feet on the desk, then I study his body language. Marcus slowly makes his way back to the door to block the exit, so this fucker cannot run. Believe me, he’s going to try.

  “Don’t try to run, Alexander! You and I both know you won’t get
very far.” I twirl my coin between my fingers, waiting to see how he plans to get out of this one.

  “Kane, please. I just need some time! I’ll get you your money. The stupid bitch didn’t do as she was told.”

  Always the same with assholes like him. They always try to pass the blame to someone else to get out of shit. Now I am getting pissed off, throwing a woman into the line of a bus. Nah, we don’t roll like that.

  “What do you mean she didn’t do as she was told?” Liam asks. I know he is intrigued by her, the way she defended herself against him has definitely put her on his radar.

  “Reaper! The bitch was meant to lose the fight.”

  “Why?” I’m curious why someone would put opposite sexes into a match up and have the weaker of the two go through a beating just to win money.

  “Why?” He looked at me with confusion written on his face. He doesn’t know where I’m going with this.

  “Yeah, I asked why?” For fuck’s sake, how hard is the question to understand?

  “Reaper has always been the crowd favorite.” I sit up wanting as much info on the black-haired beauty as I can get.

  “Always has been since day one. She’s never lost. The crowd loves her. She's a warrior and they love the bloodshed. The crowd bets major money when she fights.” The room is thick with a strange charge of energy and my brothers glance at each other. We all have the same thought.

  “Now, imagine how much I would take home if I had my champion female fighter and best male fighter go head-to-head!”

  “It worked in my favour. You see the women refuse to fight her, that’s a win-win. I told her she had to fight Mason and lose if she ever wanted to fight again. She agreed.”

  I want her, I must have her…. fuck! Why does my brain keep wandering to her? I can’t concentrate on this talk because every time she’s mentioned my brain and dick have thoughts of her.

  “Mason said something which set her off. Then she decided that she wanted to kick his ass instead of losing.”