Renegade Hearts (Rebels of Sandland Book 1)

by Nikki J Summers

  “Is that why you hate Chase?” I asked. Chase had been in our year, but he’d always been close to Jensen when he was living at home.

  “Chase is a piece of shit. He stood by and watched his brother do what he did. He could’ve stopped it, but he didn’t. He liked seeing someone else suffer. The whole Lockwood family are twisted motherfuckers. They’ve all got it coming to them, but tonight, its Jensen’s time.”

  I had a bad feeling in my gut. I didn’t like how this was playing out. I’d seen what Brandon was capable of and putting those kind of feelings into the mix would only lead to disaster. Disaster for the four boys, and even though Brandon wasn’t my favourite guy, I didn’t want to see him behind bars for something I could’ve stopped.

  “I don’t think he should, Ryan. I think you need to stop this. What if Brandon goes too far?”

  “He won’t. He might look like an animal, but he knows when to stop. That fear and anger, he’ll use that as a form of energy, a way to channel his victory. He needs this, Em. It’s not just about the money or the glory. He needs it for his own peace of mind. He’s spent too long being haunted by his past and feeling ashamed. He has something to prove tonight and this is the best arena for him to do that.”

  Ryan pulled away but held my face in his hands. “Trust me. If it gets out of hand, I’ll step in, but I won’t need to. The ref will stop it if it gets too much. It might look barbaric, but there is an honour to this too.” He leant down to kiss me and the feel of his lips on mine made some of my tensions ease up.

  What did I know about fighting? Not enough to form a decent argument against this and I trusted Ryan completely. If anyone had Brandon’s back it was Ryan.

  When Brandon walked into the basement to a round of catcalls and chanting, he grinned that psychotic moronic grin that I was slowly becoming to realise was his signature look. He saw Ryan and me stood in the corner and he put two fingers up to his lips and then kissed them, throwing them back over to us in greeting. He really did believe his own hype. Trouble was, no one else was willing to step up and prove him wrong. Until tonight that is. He turned to where Jensen stood with Chase, Brodie and some other men I didn’t recognise. Brandon flared his nostrils and I could see the way his chest was moving with the panting breaths he took. He flexed his muscles and jumped on the spot. Kian handed him a water bottle, but he brushed him off. He was going the extra mile to psych himself up this time. He didn’t want any distractions.

  “This is gonna get fucked-up,” some guy next to us said to his mates.

  “I would not want to go against Lockwood. He’s a fucking animal. A machine that renders men unconscious,” another said laughing.

  “So is Brandon,” I jumped in and the group of guys standing by us all turned to look at me, probably to call bullshit, but when they saw Ryan standing behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist they soon changed their minds. “Yeah, that’s right. Shut the fuck up and just watch, assholes.” I didn’t know what had come over me, but I was suddenly rooting for the little guy.

  “God, I love you,” Ryan said, chuckling and kissing the top of my head.

  I froze.

  Did he just use the L word? In a basement, when we were about to watch two men kick the shit out of each other? Was I supposed to say something back?

  I felt him go tense behind me. He’d obviously just realised what he’d said, and he wasn’t sure how to react.

  “I’ll always have your back. All of you,” I answered, hoping to cut the tension. I didn’t want him to clam up on me or think that I took it any other way than how he meant. He loved that I stood in his corner. That I defended his friends too. I had to remember not to read too much into things. I was, after all, the worst for over-analysing.

  The guy who I assumed was the referee for the fight said a few words to Brandon and Jensen. Both men stood facing each other, shirtless, with their fists held up ready. The familiar hay bales kept the rest of the people out of the ring and they leant over them shouting their encouragement. When the referee stood back, and the fight started, I felt my stomach twist into excruciating knots. Ryan’s arms around me went solid and he started to shout over to Brandon.

  Jensen threw the first punch, landing a nasty smack on Brandon’s jaw, but Brandon stood his ground, waggling his jaw and running his taped-up fist over his mouth, before holding his hands back up in front of his face. He wasn’t rushing into this fight. He was doing what he did best, studying his opponent, waiting to see where their weakness lay. I just hoped Jensen didn’t use Brandon’s previous eye injury against him. The stitches were long gone, but the area would still be tender.

  “What if he gets his eye?” I shouted into Ryan’s ear over the noise of the crowd. “Brandon will bleed out like before.”

  “He’d rather have twenty hits in the head than one in the body, trust me. The bones in the head are stronger than the ones in your hand. If Lockwood keeps hitting him like that, he’ll do more damage to himself than Brandon. It’s the body punches that hurt the most.”

  I wasn’t convinced and when Jensen started hammering blows down on Brandon’s head I had to turn away. I couldn’t take it. The sound of the smack as his fist hit the skin and the hissing sound they made as they punched each other, it all made me nauseous. Brandon got in a few good punches, but from where I was standing, Jensen looked like the better fighter.

  “How long till this round is over?” I said into Ryan’s ear as I avoided watching the blood bath playing out.

  Ryan laughed. “There’s no rounds, babe. No bells, no rounds, no judges. You fight until you win, that’s the beauty of it. There’s no draws and no chicken-shits either. Just boom and goodnight. This is the purest form of combat.” He hugged me and looked down at me. He didn’t look shit scared like I did. “Relax. He won’t lose. Losing isn’t an option for Brandon. It isn’t in his mind-set.”

  The crowd around us suddenly let out an almighty roar and we both turned our focus back to the fight, to see Brandon reining blow after blow to Jensen’s body and face. Jensen was grabbing his head, trying to shield himself from the hits, but Brandon was relentless. He’d found his focus and he was primed and ruthless.

  “See. He thrives under pressure. He needed Lockwood to have the upper-hand, so he could rise up and fight back harder.” Ryan joined in the shouts of the room, spurring Brandon on. As gritty and primal as this whole scene was, I couldn’t look away either. I wanted Brandon to win.

  Suddenly, Jensen dropped to the floor. A knockout. The ref jumped in front of Brandon to stop the fight. He probably knew Brandon liked to taunt his opponents and an all-out fight with Jensen’s crew wasn’t the best finish to the night. Brandon spat his mouth guard onto the floor and took the bottle of water Kian was holding out to him. Then he took a huge gulp, spat it out and doused himself in the rest as the crowd cheered.

  My adrenaline was through the roof, so Brandon’s must’ve been in orbit. I never thought I’d have felt something so visceral whilst watching two men fight in such a brutal way, but I did. I felt pride and I was grateful that Brandon had got the retribution he’d deserved. I didn’t doubt for a minute that it’d all end here, but this was a good start. Brandon had had his day. Wasn’t that what every victim wanted?

  The referee cleared the ring and two other men stepped up, ready for the next fight. We didn’t stay to watch though. Ryan led me back out to the corridor and down to a side room. Zak was there with Finn, both of them grinning like lunatics.

  “That was fucking awesome,” Zak said, and we all nodded.

  Brandon and Kian were the next to fall through the door. Brandon’s face was cut and bruised. His eye would probably be so swollen tomorrow he’d struggle to see out of it, but he didn’t care. He looked like he’d won the lottery. He jumped onto Ryan and the others followed suit, hugging him in congratulations.

  “Un-fucking-defeated. Every. Fucking. Time,” Brandon shouted, fist-pumping the air.

  I stood back, letting them have their mome
nt.

  “Get in here, Winters. I think I deserve a hug from you too.” Brandon waved me over, but I stood still. I was proud of what he’d done. I felt happy for him, but I wasn’t patting him on the back. That was never gonna happen.

  “Back off, mate,” Ryan said, coming to stand next to me and pulling me into him.

  Brandon didn’t like that and flipped faster than a fish out of water. “She needs to leave. We have business to discuss.”

  He was so high off the endorphins it must’ve made him punch drunk. What ‘business’ did he have to discuss now, with a face that was throbbing and swelling right before our eyes?

  “She’s going nowhere,” Ryan bit back. “Whatever you wanna say, you can say it in front of her.”

  I noticed Zak grimace. They wanted to talk about me, or my father. It didn’t take a genius to figure out they were digging dirt. But to be honest, I didn’t care what they had to say.

  “Okay, I’ll keep it brief.” Zak folded his arms over his chest, took a deep breath in and then looked around the room at each of the boys. “We have it all set up. We have everything we need. We go live next Friday. How you want to play this is entirely your call, Ry. Finn, you know what you need to do. Brandon and me will sort out the security. Kian, I’ll speak to you separately. Is everyone cool?” They all nodded in agreement and I just bit my lip. Talk about cryptic.

  I had no idea what they were on about, but I’d find out.

  Whatever was going live on Friday, I wanted to know about it.

  “What’s going on, Ryan? What’s going live on Friday?”

  I couldn’t get Emily out of there fast enough. I was buzzing that we were finally shutting this shit down, but at the same time I felt like a lead weight had hit my stomach. The thought of hurting her, which we would, felt like the biggest tug to my gut. I didn’t want to lose her. Not now. I couldn’t. I’d only just found what I’d dreamed of for so many years. There was no one like my Em. No one that sparked a fire in me like she did, and I wasn’t going to let that go, not for anybody.

  “It’s nothing for you to worry about, babe.” I knew she liked me calling her that. Her face was an open book to me, but she didn’t flinch or soften her look.

  “Don’t bullshit me. Something is going on and you don’t want me to know about it.”

  What was I supposed to say? Your dad is about to go down for a stretch? You’ll probably lose your house, your reputation and your dignity?

  I knew Zak had found something out from Troy Barker, the mechanic, or rather the fixer for her father. I didn’t know what exactly, but whatever it was wasn’t going to be good for Emily, that much was certain. I had to protect her first. And if that meant keeping this from her until I’d done what I had to do with the guys, I would. Then I could focus my full attention on her. Make sure I was there to pick up the pieces. If she’d let me.

  If I told her before Friday what I knew, I doubted I’d be able to go through with it. It was a fucked-up logic, but it was the only logic I had. Out the fucker first, deal with the fallout later. Show my girl I was there for her one-hundred-percent and pray she didn’t hold me responsible for how shit went down.

  “It’s just business. Call it another revenge plan, a bit like Brandon’s fight tonight. Once it’s done, I’ll tell you everything.”

  “Please tell me you aren’t going into bare-knuckle boxing? I don’t think I could survive that.” I watched as she swallowed back, looking like she was about to either pass out or go ape shit on my ass.

  “No. I promise you, I’m not going to fight. Not with my fists, anyway.” I kissed her, and she wrapped her arms around me, finally softening and moulding herself into me. I had to remember that. Contact and holding her close was the key to cutting off an argument or distracting her as best I could from stuff I needed to protect her from.

  “I trust you,” she said all breathy, in a voice that went straight to my dick. Jesus, if I didn’t have inside of her soon, I was going to explode. I wanted to give her time and I stood by my rule, no pressure. But damn, I don’t think I’d jerked off as much as I had lately at any other time in my life. This woman was all I thought about, and knowing how soft and tight she felt on my fingers had me imagining all kinds of fucked-up shit I wanted to do to her. I was losing my goddamn mind.

  “I need you to do something for me,” I whispered into her ear, running my hands down to her ass and giving it a good squeeze.

  “Anything.” She gasped, burying her head into the crook of my neck and making me want to pick her up, leave this shithole and never come back.

  “Stay with Effy or Liv on Friday night. Do whatever you girls do, have a girl’s night in or whatever, but stay with them. I don’t want you at home on your own on Friday.”

  She pulled away, looking at me with a million questions burning in her eyes, but a deep set frown on her face.

  “Why? Can’t I stay with you?” I had three answers to that question. The one my heart gave, which went along the lines of, ‘Baby, you’re always with me. On Friday, I’d love nothing more than to hold you all night long in my arms.’ Then there was the one my head gave, that went something like, ‘Em, I need you safe. After I’ve dealt with my shit, I will be by your side twenty-four-seven, but please, let me do this.’ Then lastly it was my dick, which always had a say whenever it came to her. That answer involved my bed, my empty house at the weekend courtesy of my dad’s overnight stay at a trade show, and a whole lot of time spent making her forget whatever it was we were about to put her family through. The jury was still out on which one would win, but eventually I went with the head on my shoulders as opposed to the one in my pants and repeated myself. She needed to be with her friends. I needed her away from it all.

  “Fine. I can do that.” She wasn’t happy, and if I was being completely honest with myself, I didn’t fully believe that she would stay with them, but I didn’t want to argue. I was done talking about this.

  She sighed, obviously done with this conversation too and leant up to kiss me. I pushed her up against the wall of the corridor where we stood. The bass from Zak’s set vibrated the walls and people knocked past us as they moved from the basement to the main area. I didn’t care though. I kissed the ever-loving-fuck out of her and grabbed her ass again, pulling her closer so she knew what she was doing to me. She hooked her leg up over my hip and I held it in place, using my hand behind her knee so I could grind my dick into her, letting her know where I wanted to be; buried right between her thighs.

  Pure fucking heaven.

  I let him kiss me and I kissed him back with everything I had, but this wasn’t over. I wasn’t going to bow down like the little woman. If something was going to happen on Friday, I wanted to be at the front and centre of it. I wasn’t going to be beaten down by anyone, no matter how good a kisser they were, or how much they made me yearn for more.

  I knew the boys were as thick as thieves when it came to their little crew, but they had a weakness, every organisation does. Lucky for me, when Friday came, that little weakness was sitting in the corner of a local café nursing a hangover and an espresso with extra shots.

  “Hey, Kian.” I sat down opposite him, blowing on the latte I’d bought as he shuffled uncomfortably in his chair. “You all ready for tonight?” I wasn’t sure how much Kian knew about me, but he knew a lot more about the boys’ plans than I did, and I was going to use that to my advantage.

  “Uh, yeah, sure. I’m on the doors.” He shrugged, not looking happy with that job, so I pressed further.

  “Where did you want to be?”

  He took a sip of his molten coffee and winced. Probably because it tasted like liquid shit, then he banged his hand down on the table in frustration.

  “I wanted in on the whole show. I wanted to be on the stage or sorting the tech out with Zak. I’m good at that. I know as much stuff as he does. I guess they don’t trust me enough yet.” He darted his eyes around the coffee shop and then settled them back on me. “I might not have a
head for numbers like Ryan, and I’m not fucking Picasso like Finn, but I can hack into anything that Zak can. I have skills.”

  Strike one. Kian had given me the first little nugget of a very large rock that I was chipping away at. So Zak had hacked into something. My dad’s accounts no doubt. He’d found shit to pin on him and that was something I was entitled to be a part of. I wanted in now more than ever.

  “Kian, I know you have skills. Ryan knows that too. He’s always talking about how much he trusts you. It’s why you’re on the doors tonight. Do you think they’d trust anyone else with that? If the wrong people get in, they’re fucked.” He nodded along, and I could see his shoulders relax, the tension and anger were starting to ebb away. I had him right where I needed him. “Ki, you might not be in the main part tonight, but you are the keystone to all this. If you’re not there it all goes to shit.”

  “You’re right.” He gripped his coffee cup with both hands, cradling it like it was his lifeline. “Brandon’s sorted the security. It helped that Zak could hack into your dad’s emails and cancel the company he’d already booked. Brandon’s using guys from the gym tonight. But I’m the gate-keeper, aren’t I?”

  Strike two. Another little nugget. They were planning some kind of attack on my dad that involved wiping out his security. It didn’t take a genius to guess that Brandon’s guys were there as fake guards. They’d protect the guys before they’d ever protect my father. It didn’t bother me like it should’ve. My dad was big enough to look after himself and I had a feeling he deserved whatever was heading his way.

  “Are you heading down there now to do any checks?” I held my breath, willing Kian to spill the tea. I needed in on whatever it was that was happening tonight.