Undefeated - A New Adult Romance Novel

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Undefeated - A New Adult Romance Novel Page 7

by Hildreth, Scott


  “Let me go with ya,” Shane said as Ripp released him.

  “No can do, bro. I got this,” Ripp responded.

  Shane shook his head and rubbed his hood into the sides of his face.

  “Just don’t kill him,” Shane said.

  “Can’t make that promise. We’ll see how it goes,” Ripp said as he walked toward the barbeque grill.

  “Damn it, Ripp,” Shane said softly, almost as if talking to himself.

  “I ain’t gonna do it right now. I need to eat,” Ripp said as he grabbed a few more pieces of chicken from the platter that sat beside the grill.

  He walked back toward his chair with a plate full of chicken. As he sat in the chair and started devouring another piece of chicken, he nudged his head toward the back door.

  “Go inside Dekk and get her a piece of paper off my desk. And a pen. I need her to write down everything about this asshole that she knows. Everything,” He said as he dropped a bone onto the plate.

  As I watched him eat it dawned on me that he was probably the biggest human being I had ever seen. I have never seen anyone, of any size, that was as muscular as he was. He was a boxer, like Shane, but he was huge. Without a doubt he would either beat Josh half to death or possibly even kill him.

  After spending ten years with Josh, I realized that a small part of me should feel sorrow for what might happen. Maybe I should feel a little compassion and want to prevent it from occurring.

  I felt nothing.

  I looked at him as he ate another piece of chicken. His head was cleanly shaven and he had hair on the tip of his chin. He was very tan, almost like he was Hispanic, but he was white. As he chewed, I could see the muscles in his neck and jaw flex.

  “Is your head thmooth?” I asked.

  I have no idea why I asked that.

  He dropped the bone onto the plate and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Is my head smooth?” he chuckled, “smooth as butter. You wanna touch it, don’t ya?”

  My head bobbed up and down.

  “Well, get over here. And don’t be dripping that cold ice pack on me when you’re fingering my head,” he laughed.

  I stood up and walked beside the chair he was sitting in. I stood and stared at his smooth head.

  “Well, I can’t put my head in your hand, Shorty. You’re just going to have to reach over here and rub it. Take that ice pack off of your lips and let me see them,” he said softly.

  I pulled the ice pack from my mouth and smiled. He shook his head and chuckled.

  “Well, I’ve seen a lot worse. You’ll heal up just fine, you hear me?” he said as he leaned my direction.

  I nodded my head. Slowly, I reached toward his head with my left hand. As I did, he raised his head closer to my hand.

  I touched it with my fingers. It felt soft and smooth, like my legs after I shave them. No stubble whatsoever.

  “Don’t get any wild ideas. I know it feels nice, but you look really good with that long blonde hair. Now go sit down before Dekkar comes out here and whips my ass again,” he laughed.

  “Again?” I asked.

  “Yeah, again. He didn’t tell you?” he asked.

  I sat back down on the lounge chair and turned his direction, “Nope.”

  “Well, it’s how we met. Crazy fucker rode his bike here from Compton. Got off of it, put on a set of gloves, and stepped into the ring. I stepped in with him. Biggest god damned mistake of my career. He’s got the fastest hands I’ve ever seen. Powerful too. You wouldn’t know it. Hell, he wears that fuckin’ hoodie everywhere, covering up his body. He’s probably the meanest son-of-a-bitch I’ve ever met. Anyway, maybe thirty seconds into the fight he hit me three times before I even knew it. Knocked me out cold. First time I’ve ever been on the mat,” he picked up another piece of chicken and took a bite as he nodded his head once.

  I thought about Shane fighting him. I imagined Shane knocking him out. I remembered how big Ripp was as he stood in the yard with his shirt off. I started to get uncomfortably warm. My groin started to ache. I wanted Shane, and I wanted him bad. Josh and I had not had sex in almost three years. I desperately needed a man. I began to imagine Shane kissing me and undressing me as he did. Oh God. I crossed my legs.

  Bad idea.

  I looked at Ripp as he pulled the meat from a chicken bone. I uncrossed my legs. Oh God, I’m soaked. Thinking of Shane got me really excited. I needed to go to the bathroom. As I pulled the icepack from my mouth, Shane walked out onto the deck.

  “Ripp, I decided to let you do this. You’re right, I want the girl. If it comes up again, or if he shows his face a second time, he’s mine. Deal?” he asked.

  Swoon.

  I felt flush.

  I want the girl.

  “Deal,” Ripp said as he dropped the last bone onto the plate.

  I stood up, set the ice pack on the lounge, and reached up toward Shane’s face with both hands. As I stood on my tip-toes, he leaned down and looked at me through his hood. I flipped the hood off of his head with my right hand. As it fell onto his shoulder, he slowly smiled.

  “Kith me,” I said as I stretched my face toward his.

  My swollen lips met his, and he reached around me and picked me up. I felt his tongue against mine. I closed my eyes. I haven’t been kissed in years, and I have never been kissed like this. Shane was right; everything he does, he does extremely well. As my feet dangled a foot above the floor of the deck, I felt warmth inside of me that I had never felt. It was at that point I knew.

  Shane Dekkar would always protect me.

  RIPP. Laws are set in place as a set of rules and regulations to protect people that do not or are not breaking the rules and regulations form the few that do. It really doesn’t matter where you live or what you believe in, for the most part all countries have the same rules to provide the same protection.

  Don’t steal, don’t take advantage of people, don’t harm people, and don’t intimidate or threaten people. As a general matter of law, that sums it up just about everywhere. Every law falls within one of those categories, regardless of where you reside.

  The punishment varies from country to country. Some countries cut the hands off of thieves. Others place them in jail. Even countries that look at women as a substandard form of life do not allow them to be harmed or taken advantage of against their will.

  I know many women that have attempted to file charges against their boyfriends or husbands for abuse. Almost every occasion ended up with the woman filing charges a second time for a crime much worse - because the first occurrence went unpunished. A man that intimidates or beats a woman, generally speaking, does not want to be confronted by a man who is willing to stand up for the woman or her rights.

  Men who abuse woman, without exception, are cowards.

  I like to remind them of the fact that they’re cowards. It satisfies me.

  After we first met, Dekkar and I found this to be a common belief between us. A week or so after we met the first time, we ate lunch together. The conversation immediately went to our system of beliefs. His strongest belief is the fact that women are not to be abused, ever - verbally, mentally, morally, or physically. I believed the exact same thing. He was able to describe many circumstances when he became involved in an attempt to resolve a domestic issue that included a woman in need.

  I was astonished. It was the one thing that brought us closer to each other - a similar belief in what we understood to be moral. Additionally, we both believed that an outside influence often worked much better than filing a domestic violence charge with police.

  Stepping in and resolving an issue with a man’s abuse of a woman didn’t necessarily require violence. It always depended on the circumstances. Violence breeds violence, and violence is never the ultimate answer. It is, however, a useful tool in some circumstances.

  “Whoa!” he screamed as I walked into the living room of the house.

  “How the fuck did you get in here? I’ll call the cops,�
�� he yelled.

  “Turn off that fucking television and shut the absolute fuck up,” I said as I pulled the hood off of my head.

  He sat and stared at me as if in shock. I reached down and picked up the remote control from the floor and turned off the television. As I did, he started to stand up.

  “You aren’t going to call anyone, you don’t have a phone. Sit the fuck down. You and I are going to have a long talk,” I said as I dangled Kace’s keys from my fingertips.

  He stood and stared at me as I walked across the living room and sat down in the chair beside the couch.

  “This is my house…”

  I interrupted him before he finished, “Say one more God damned word without me asking you a question. One fucking more, just one. I’ll knock every tooth out of your mouth and wear ‘em around my neck on a chain. Say something. Anything.”

  Silently, he slowly lowered himself onto the couch.

  “That’s it, just sit down. I need to talk to you while you’re able to comprehend it. Later you’ll be more liable to forget what I say,” I said as I pointed to the couch.

  He wiggled uncomfortably on the couch, burrowing a little deeper into the cushions.

  “This is about Kace and what you did to her today. I talk, you listen. Understand?” I asked as I unzipped my Jacket.

  He nodded. His head had a knot on it about the size of a tangerine.

  I stood up and pulled my hoodie over my head. Purposely, I didn’t wear a shirt. I sat back down into the chair, laid the hoodie down, and flexed my biceps just to make sure he knew what may be coming later.

  “I don’t like you. People like you make me make me want to spend my life in prison for murdering them. The only thing preventing me from doing it is the fact that being in prison would keep me from finding another piece of shit like you and doing this all over again. Believe it or not, I enjoy this. The satisfaction I get from stopping you from abusing another woman is the same satisfaction most men get from fucking, multiplied by about ten. Remember, not a word unless I ask you,” I rolled my shoulders and popped my neck.

  He sat and stared.

  “Now, when I start talking, you’re naturally going to want to say something to defend yourself. I wouldn’t advise that. If you do, I’m going to get up, come over there, and beat on you. Eventually, I’m going to do it anyway. If you try talking your way out of this, it’s just going to make it last a really long time. If you keep your mouth shut, I’m going to sit here and just talk - at least for now. Understand?”

  He nodded.

  “Men that abuse women are fucking pussies. They’re the lowest form of life that exists. Talking down to women, screaming at them, intimidating them, or physically harming them in any way is abuse. Abuse isn’t going to be tolerated by me, ever,” I took a slow breath and looked him over.

  Talking to this asshole wasn’t setting very well with me. It was all I could do to look at this guy. Knowing that eventually I was going to knock at least one of his teeth out was extremely satisfying.

  “You’ve spent the last ten years intimidating Kace, and you’re done. Completely. The shit that went on here this afternoon is the last of it. You’ll never speak to her again for any reason. You will make no effort to contact her, ever. You will not approach her, call her, text her, or have any of your friends attempt to do so. Understand?” I asked as I rubbed my hands on the thighs of my jeans.

  He nodded.

  “No, I need verbal confirmation. Do you understand?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “I’m not one of your punk friends. Don’t talk to me like one. If you respond affirmatively, it better be a yes. Understand?” I pushed against my thighs with my hands and sat up straight.

  “Yes?” he said with a confused look on his face.

  Covered with sweat, he reached up and wiped his brow. As he wiped his hand on his jeans, the sweat beads began to re-form on his face.

  “It’s hot as fuck in here, what’s the temperature set at? I asked.

  He shrugged his shoulders and wiped his face again.

  “Well, it’s so fucking hot in here, I’m ungoddamnedcomfortable. Son-of-a-bitch, that knot on your head looks painful. She got you good, didn’t she?” I chuckled.

  Lightly, he touched his swollen head with his fingertips. As his fingers touched the knot, he squinted and jerked his head backward.

  “Okay, we’re getting off track. I’m going to need some answers from you. Listen up. Are you ever going to try to talk to Kace again?” I asked.

  “Well, I…” he started.

  As he began to speak, I stood up, “Shut up. Obviously you didn’t hear me or understand me.”

  “You said don’t speak unless you asked me to,” he said as he cowered down into the couch cushions.

  I took a few steps toward him and stood directly in front of the couch, “Stand up.”

  He sat still and looked up at me as if confused on what to do.

  I reached down and got ahold of his hair and pulled him up from the couch.

  “Holy shit, dude. God damn. I’m coming. Fuck,” he said as I raised him off of the couch cushion by his hair.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I demanded as he stood directly in front of me, his hair in my left hand.

  “When you choke Kace, this is what it feels like,” I said as I grabbed his neck in my right hand.

  I squeezed as hard as I could until his eyes rolled back and he began to go limp. I released the pressure on his neck. As I did, he began to cough and gasp for air. I pulled upward on his hair, forcing him to stand erect.

  “Oh my fuckin’ God,” he coughed and as I continued pulling against his hair.

  “And this is what it feels like when you slap her,” I said as I reached back and slapped his face as hard as I could with my open right hand.

  The slap knocked his head from my grasp. He fell to the floor, crying. I stood above him with my left hand full of his hair.

  “Dude, that’s fucking gross, your hair came out,” I said as I brushed the hair from my hand onto the floor beside him.

  “Get up, you pussy. Get up right now or I’m going to cut off your cock,” I threatened, knowing I wouldn’t touch his cock with a ten foot pole.

  Slowly, he rose to his feet, rubbing his jaw the entire time.

  “Being slapped hurts, don’t it?” I asked.

  He nodded his head slowly.

  Whack!

  I slapped him with my left hand. His legs wobbled.

  Whack!

  I slapped him with my right hand.

  He began to stumble and started to fall to the floor.

  I grabbed each of his shoulders in my hands and stabilized his stance.

  “You alright to stand?” I asked as I let go of his shoulders.

  He stood fairly erect, sobbing and rubbing his jaw.

  “Brace yourself,” I said.

  “What? Brace…what?” he mumbled through his hands.

  “I’m going to break a rib. You’ll need to tighten up your stomach muscles. If you don’t, you’ll puke on me. If you puke on me, I may kill you. We’ve already discussed that. I don’t really want to kill you,” I said calmly.

  “Dude, what the fuck…” he started to speak through his cupped hands.

  Before he could finish speaking, I pushed him away from me. As he began to stumble backward, I unleashed a series of body punches to his mid-section. His body began to fall backward. As he fell, I swung a ferocious right fist into his ribs and followed with an immediate left hook. I felt his ribs break under my knuckles.

  Although I hadn’t originally intended to do so, as his face began to slump forward, I swung a right uppercut. It just felt natural. The punch caught him right under the chin. The power of the punch lifted his feet from the floor and sent him reeling backward. While he attempted to remain on his feet, his legs turned to rubber and he collapsed to the floor.

  Shit, knocked out twice in one day.

  I kicked him lightly with my f
oot.

  “Get up,” I said as I kicked him again.

  “Get up you piece of shit,” I said as I kicked him a little harder.

  He lay motionless on the floor.

  I walked to the kitchen and grabbed a glass bowl from the kitchen countertop. I filled it with water and walked back into the living room. I pressed my foot into his stomach and poured the water directly onto his face. As the water hit his face, he began to sputter and tried to speak.

  “Oh… my,” he slowly held his stomach.

  “God, I need an ambulance,” he said as he rocked his head from side-to-side.

  I pressed on his stomach with my foot. As I did, he began to cry.

  “Please,” he cried.

  “Shut the fuck up. We’re just getting started. I need to ask you some questions again. You have the attention span of a fucking gnat,” I said as I carried the bowl to the chair and sat down.

  “Now, you twat waffle, listen. Are you going to ever make any effort to contact Kace for any reason?” I asked.

  Lying on the floor, he did his best to shake his head from side-to-side. As he did, I stood up and crossed my arms.

  “No,” he tried to scream. As he did, he winced in pain and held his ribs.

  “You’re not going to want to take too many deep breaths or scream. I felt about three of those things break. Broken ribs are a bitch. Just trying to breathe becomes so painful you’ll want to die. That’s why I broke ‘em. So you’d remember I was here. Okay, where were we? Let’s see. No contacting Kace. I’m glad you’re a great learner,” I laughed.

  “And stop whining, I am not going to fucking call you an ambulance. You didn’t call one for Kace, did you? You fucking scumbag, the more I talk about this, the more I do want to kill you,” I complained.

  He raised himself up onto his elbows and started crying out loud.

  “You fucking punk. Shut up. Do you have any tools in here? In the house?” I asked.

  Confused, he looked at me and squinted. I raised my hands in a defensive boxing posture and clenched my jaw. I took one step in his direction.

 

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