Biker's Bride: A Bad Boy Romance (Demons MC) (Includes bonus novel Kinged!) (39 page)

That’s when I knew how serious Michael was about not letting me go. He couldn’t come out and kill me, otherwise he’d lose face with the other bosses. Instead, he probably tried to set me up, and made up some shit about me being in debt. But all I needed to do was win the fight and the next after that, and he couldn’t touch me ever again.

As I passed by the thin city trees, I thought about Darcy some more. That time on the rock on Fisherman’s Wharf was the best night of my life. I told her shit I hadn’t shared with anyone else in years. Dark shit, the cold corners of my past. And she didn’t run away, didn’t call me a freak. She wasn’t afraid of me like so many other people were. It was something about how she looked at me, her big eyes deep and penetrating, unblinking, and fierce. I needed someone like her, steadfast and loyal. Plus, she was absolutely gorgeous, and our bodies clicked together like clockwork. She made me want to keep fighting because of the way she kept moving forward herself. Alone in a city she knew nothing about, she kept trying to improve, trying to find something bigger than herself. I envied her freedom and beauty, and wanted to be as close to her as possible. I wasn’t the type to get like that about some random chick, but Darcy was different. I had been with plenty of girls before her, sluts and nice girls and more, but she was the first I was willing to risk myself for.

I shook my head, trying not to get too lost in remembering her body. It felt like forever since I last saw her, which was crazy. We barely knew each other. Still, there was something undeniable about our attraction.

Ahead, Drake’s looked closed. It was about midnight, and the fight should start as soon as I got there. The front door was unlocked, and I pushed my way inside. I gave Chuck the bartender a nod, which he returned, but I could tell he was surprised to see me. The main room was empty, which meant everyone was probably downstairs. I made my way across the room and toward the bathrooms. I pushed an “Employees Only” door open, and went down the steps.

The warm air and noise hit me hard as I descended. People were shouting and I could tell something was getting out of hand. The warmth was tinged with body sweat and blood from earlier matches. I got to the bottom of the stairs and turned the corner.

The crowd was thick with tweakers, weirdos, and drunks. It was the bulk of the Irish gang, all the right people of Philadelphia. They were thieves and con men and muscle and boosters and drug dealers and gangsters. They were violent and unpredictable, but also loyal and honorable in their own way. The right people followed their code and took it seriously. Honesty was valued in a leader above all else, because honesty was in short supply everywhere else. The crowd was shouting at someone in the middle, and nobody had noticed me yet.

When I was left on my own, the right people became my family. The street was my home and they were my cousins and brothers and parents and uncles and aunts. Those people would be my saviors or they would string me up and gut me without a second thought. I took a deep breath and cracked my neck, mentally preparing myself for what was about to happen. It was pretty much a fifty-fifty guess at that point whether I’d survive the night or not.

I pressed ahead, and moved my way through the crowd toward the center. As I passed, people began to murmur my name, and soon the room was dead quiet. I pushed through and saw Michael was standing with another guy, some muscled, broken-nose looking monster of a dude. Obviously a fighter, from how he held himself. Michael locked eyes with me and gaped for half a breath. I savored the surprised look on his face; he was clearly shocked that I had the balls to confront him. Michael was always underestimating me, but he would think twice from then on.

“Look who it is, lads!” he called, and the crowd cheered. His two goons, Clutch and Spud, stepped up behind him. They were like quiet psycho twins, and the only thing they loved to do was fuck, fight, and snort coke. Clutch and Spud were everything I despised about the Irish gang, or at least what the gang had become. Under Michael’s leadership, they had gone from protectors of the little people, proponents of local businesses and local champions, to drug dealers and killers. I had no problem with drugs and killing for the right reasons, but the only reason Michael had was money.

“I’m here to fight, Michael,” I said loudly. The crowd cheered again, and Michael put his hands up patiently.

“I know you are lad, but there’s the matter of that last job,” he said calmly.

“Let him fight!” some random guy yelled out. Michael gave him a look, and the crowd quieted.

“What do you say for yourself, eh? Why have you been hiding?”

I steeled myself for what was coming next. That moment would decide my fate and, more importantly, Darcy’s fate. I told her they wouldn’t hurt her, and it was true. But it was true only so long as I wasn’t a traitor and still alive to protect her. I was afraid that if I weren’t successful, they’d hurt her before they finished me off. That wasn’t something I was prepared for. Darcy was only involved because she decided she wanted to spend some time with me, for whatever reason. I alternated cursing myself for dragging her into my world and thanking whatever god was watching over me for bringing her around. If I had a chance to go back to that first night where I beat down those two assholes, I’d do it all over again.

“I’ve been hiding because you set me up with that bullshit deal, Michael.”

There was dead silence around me. I looked back at the stunned faces defiantly. It wasn’t a small thing to call Michael a liar, but there it was.

“Are you accusing me of something?” he said quietly. His goons stepped up, ready to attack at his word.

“I’m accusing you of wanting to keep me around,” I said, speaking loudly. “Everyone in this room knows you’ve wanted me as your personal muscle from day one, and when I turned you down, things went to shit for me. I think you’re trying to fuck everything up as revenge.”

“You should watch yourself, son.” Michael looked pissed. I wanted him to be. I needed him to be off his game. I needed him shaken and confused, otherwise he’d order me killed and be done with it. It might be enough to keep me alive if I could expose a tiny chink in his armor.

“No, Michael, you should watch yourself. Look around you. Everyone here knows what I’m saying is the truth. You’ve been dealing with the Russians on the sly for years, and we all turned a blind eye to it because everyone was making money. But lately, things haven’t been going so well, have they?”

The crowd started to murmur and I felt a thrill run along my body. I knew they were hearing me, and more than a few of them agreed with me. I just needed Michael to slip up and admit it. Lately, the money that was flowing into the right people’s pockets from the big drug deals and the gun running was starting to dry up. Michael had been feuding with a few of the minor Russian bosses, which meant more bodies piling up, and less profit. When things were peaceful and prosperous, people were willing to forgive him for dealing with a rival mob. But when people were losing their lives, nobody was interested in letting Michael wage his personal wars anymore. I needed to exploit those feelings and get the crowd on my side.

“How dare you, you little shit. After all the chances I’ve given you,” he growled, and I could tell he was rattled.

“No more bullshit, Michael. You know I had nothing to do with how that deal went down. Let me fight for my freedom, and we’ll be square.”

Michael stared hard at me and the crowd kept mumbling.

“Let him fight!” someone yelled.

“Let the kid fight!” someone else took up the cry, and the crowd suddenly started to yell and chant. I basked in the power of the crowd, their voices all raised on my behalf. Michael looked around, irate and confused, as they continued to chant for me and to jeer him. Finally, he raised his hands, signaling quiet. The noise slowly died down. I knew I had won.

He looked at me hard for a few seconds. “Alright, you little fuck. I’ll let you fight. But I’m upping the stakes.”

I was wary, but felt good. It wasn’t the straight out victory I had hoped for, but it was a chance. Michael could set his stakes in any way he wanted. I’d win whatever fights he threw my way.

“What stakes then?” I said.

“You win or you die. No more staying in debt. You win these next two fights, or else I fucking cut your throat myself.”

The crowd reacted to that. I stared at Michael and he returned my gaze. I knew he meant his threat, and he’d do whatever it took to eliminate me. Before, if I lost a fight, I’d be indebted to him forever, no more easy chances to get out. I’d be stuck in the life of the right people, stuck as his personal muscle. I actually preferred the new deal if I was honest with myself. I couldn’t live like that anymore, no matter what. Better for Darcy too, if I were outright dead. They’d have no reason to bother her with me out of the picture completely.

“And if I win, I’m gone. Home free. No bullshit.”

“If you win, you’re free.”

I looked around. “And all you right people, you thieves and goons and more, you all heard what he just said. If I win, I’m free, no bullshit.”

The crowd cried out, “Aye!”

“Then we have a contract,” Michael said quietly.

I stared him down, my body vibrating with joy and righteous anger. This was the chink that I needed. He thought he had seen the best of me, what I was capable of, but he was wrong. I had pulled punches and took it easy, letting my opponents think they could keep up. But not anymore. I was going to come at his fighters with everything I had.

“That we do,” I said.

Michael grinned his wicked grin then crossed the room and stood close. I tensed, ready for a trick.

“I went to see your pretty little girl,” he said to me quietly, so only I could hear.

“If you hurt her—”

He interrupted me “Relax, son. She’s fine. All we did was check to see if you were there. Didn’t even rough her up.” He paused and stared at me. “But I know where she lives.”

“You motherfucker.” It took everything I had not to attack him then and there. It would have meant death, but breaking his disgusting pig nose would’ve felt sweet.

He smiled huge and held his hand out. I took it, and we shook hard. I stared at him and he returned my gaze, grinning the whole time.

Finally, we let go, and he returned to his side of the circle. I had no people on my side, but I didn’t need any. All I needed was the will to survive, and I had plenty of that.

“Well, lads, who wants to see a fucking fight!” he yelled, and the crowd went insane, high on blood lust and fear. It wasn’t often that Michael made a blood pact like the one he just made, but it sure as hell made for an exciting night. The people were ready for some violence, and I was ready to give it to them.

“Let’s get to it then,” he yelled, and then retreated to the circle’s edge.

I stood alone in the circle, facing the muscled monster, his face passive and his eyes empty. I pulled off my shirt and stared him down, allowing my breath to calm, and my muscles to relax. The tattoos running up my arms and along my torso were living reminders, inked in blood and pain, that life was suffering, and only the strong survived.

I was the strong.

I was going to beat the living piss out of this stranger. I was going to beat him until he couldn’t stand straight, beat him with every ounce of energy I had in my body. I was going to pound his skull into the dirt for Darcy’s sake, and for my own.

We each took a few steps nearer to each other, and as the crowd reached a frenzied pitch, he lunged at me.

I
stared at the door and imagined thousands of different scenarios for what was on the other side. It was Michael, it was Shane, it was the police, it was worse. Finally, I worked up the courage to look through the peephole. What I saw caused my body to tense with shock.

Rex gazed back, his brow bloodied, his right eye swollen, but his mouth grinning with a wild joy. I ripped the door open like it couldn’t move fast enough.

“Rex!” I threw my arms around him.  He grunted in response.

“Easy,” he said. I caught myself, and looked him over. He was obviously hurt, but he was there and he was alive. I gently kissed his mouth, and he kissed me back.

“Where have you been?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Inside.”

I led him in and closed the door behind us, quickly securing the deadbolt. I turned and found him leaning against the wall, still grinning, but tired. He looked haggard and in pain, but his grin said he was in a great mood.

“What happened?” I closed the space between us and gingerly touched his swollen eye. He winced but didn’t pull away.

“Won my fight,” he said.

“Are you done?”

He shook his head softly. “Not yet, but close. I have one more to go, next week.”

“You’re fighting a week from now?”

“Yeah, and then it’ll all be over.”

“But you’re not going to be healed by then.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll be fine.”

“No, Rex. You need to see a doctor.”

He shook his head. His eyes looked sad. “I can’t see a doctor. They’ll ask questions, maybe bring heat down on me.” He paused, and looked at me seriously. “Promise you won’t tell anyone about this,” he said.

I sighed then kissed him softly again. “Of course. Get inside, on the couch. I’ll get you some ice.”

He grinned. “That’s the spirit. Be my sexy nurse.”

I smiled back. What an asshole. “Find me a costume and I’ll wear it.”

He moved away from the wall and hobbled over to the couch. “Don’t think I can’t make that happen.”

I went into the kitchen and took out a dishtowel. I opened the freezer and filled it with ice. I twisted the end and brought it out to him. I was a mess of conflicting emotions. I was terrified of Michael, I was afraid for Rex and his injuries, but more than anything else, I was beyond overjoyed to see him again. I realized that his absence had only stoked my fears, and that his reappearance made everything okay again.

“I absolutely expect that to happen.” I gently placed the ice against his eye, and his fingers brushed against mine as he took the bundle from me.