Inferno: Part 1 (2 page)

Bryce

After only two laps around the block the crowd is gone. That’s the way fame is. When you’re in front of their faces, you are the only thing that matters. As soon as you disappear, they’re onto the next distraction.

When I hit the “P” on the elevator and insert my key, the girls exchange glances. Everyone thinks I use women but the truth is they all have their own motives.

When the doors open, they ooh and ahh appreciatively, but they are tallying the cost of everything. Cashmere blanket, travertine surrounding the fireplace, velvet couches. Their greedy eyes devour every detail, no doubt to later sell to some tabloid or regale their friends with.

Even outside of the ring, my life is a spectacle.

The redhead won’t stop rubbing the couch, and the blonde is poking through the few photos I have on the bookshelf.

“How cute!” she squeals, seeing a picture from middle school. “You have a lot of pictures of yourself as a kid.”

I don’t bother to correct her.

“Hmm. And who’s she? A little older than I thought you’d go, but still pretty.”

“My mother,” I say disinterested in her line of questioning. She’s getting a little too personal. And I don’t do personal with my groupies.

“Oh,” she laughs. “I guess that’s where you get your good looks from.”

“And my crazy poker skills. Let’s play a few hands,” I say and then lift the lid of a small chest on the shelf next to the blonde and pull out a deck of cards.

“What are the stakes?” Red asks, perking up at the possibility of winning some money or a souvenir.

“Loser takes off a piece of clothing,” I say as if she should have known the answer. Because she knew the stakes the second she stepped into the limo.

They both nod, and say in unison, “We like this game.”

Guess it won’t be long before I’m the last one with clothes still on. We start with a practice hand. They both lose.

“Next one’s for real,” I warn.

In quick succession Blondie loses her shoes, Red her shirt, and we pick up momentum. They are both down to bra and panties before I lose a hand, and it’s just the distraction of their ample chests pushed up in lacy bras. I take off my shirt, shoes, and jeans.

“That’s more than one piece,” Red says bossily.

“Game’s over,” I say sternly through a smirk.

They both rise, walking around the side of the table slowly, stalking like cats. Each takes a hand, and I lead us back to the spare room.

I am pushed back on the bed, but before they pull my pants down, I order them to take off their bras. Their soft breasts spring free, the blonde’s tan and fake. Red’s are surprisingly real, her skin pale and creamy.

It’s a buffet for my entertainment, and as one begins to suck me off, the other brings her tits to my face, pressing them together for me to bury my cheeks in. Each breast is a handful, and I suck on the nipples, tugging until they harden and she bucks, overstimulated.

My cock is so hard, and as they switch Red begins to suck my tip, pumping the bottom with her hand. With each movement her tits stroke my skin, pushing me closer to climax. As the blonde kisses my chest and neck, I reach down between her legs and feel how wet she is.

The slick feeling takes me over the edge and I come hard, Red swallowing every bit. She makes a show of licking her lips, but it’s just cum and I remember how much of this is for show.

“Play with each other,” I instruct. It’s a relief, not having to worry about getting them off.

Blondie pushes Red back—clearly she gets cared for first, since she took the bullet, so to speak. Then she slides up next to her and licks her nipple while massaging her pussy with her hand. I watch as she slips her fingers inside and Red’s back arches. Blondie kisses and licks her way up to Red’s lips. They’re full on making out as Blondie aggressively rubs Red’s clit. In an instant, Red comes loudly while bucking towards Blondie’s hand. She wants more.

Then they switch places. Red doesn’t bother with her hands, instead burrowing her face between Blondie’s legs and licking away. They make a show of moaning, and Blondie’s breathing speeds up when Red starts licking and fingering her. She comes shouting, “Oh yes,” her face in some ridiculous pose.

Both look to me, waiting for a score or feedback, but I pull my pants back on.

“Can I have a shirt to sleep in,” Blondie pouts.

“Just a minute,” I say. “Stay here, I’ll be back.”

I call Nathan and ask him to set up a room tonight for the girls. He puts me on hold, and a few moments later confirms it’s done. Someone will be up with the key to escort them to another room.

“Put your clothes back on,” I tell the girls.

They are visibly irritated, but obey.

One of the hotel staff knocks, and I ask him to show the girls to their room.

On my way to the shower, I close the door to the spare room. Tomorrow the sheets will be changed and waiting for my next conquest. It makes me feel tired.

Mila

The sky is still cloudy, but it’s finally warming up and I can wait on a bench for my next class. Other students rush by, and I realize how few people I know at college. No one else walks alone, and I feel like an island.

Scott took up so much of my time, and when I wasn’t with him I was shut in the library, studying. I love the smell of books, the old brown leather couches, the smell of coffee and tea. It had been my home on campus, but it also gave Scott the chance to cheat.

I had thought his texts were sweet, asking when I’d be back, telling me to take all the time I needed, encouraging me to focus on my studies. Really, the jerk just didn’t want to get caught with Gabrielle.

Gabrielle Snow, what a stupid name. The only resemblance I can think of now is snow after a week of exhaust fumes, tainted and wretched.

My mind is so distracted still, and I’m fighting not to give them that kind of attention and power over my thoughts, but it’s hard. Not knowing anyone means my free time is empty and allows my brain to become frozen in bad feelings that I should have gotten past having by now.

As if on cue, two girls pause by the bench.

“Hey—Mila, right?” The girl extends out her arm to hand me a flyer. “I think we have this next class together—I’m Carissa. Anyway, we wanted to invite you to our party. It’s tonight, we’ll have all the booze and snacks, just bring yourself!”

I smile, unsure of how much fun I would be at a party.

They see my hesitation, and Carissa says a party is also the best cure for any problem—be it romantic or academic.

I laugh, taking the flyer, and say I’ll think about it.

The girl with Carissa waves her hand in an obvious attempt to get someone’s attention. Before I know it she’s gone, leaving me and Carissa behind.

After a few minutes of small talk we walk to class together at Carissa’s insistence.

There are only solitary seats wedged between other students so we are forced to split up. I take a seat next to a slender girl with dyed black hair, pulling out my books when the Inferno ad falls out.

I’d almost forgotten—I need to apply soon.

She reaches and grabs it off of the 70s looking blue industrial carpet. Her eyebrows furrow as she hands it to me. There’s obviously a question pulling at her mind.

“Hey, are you thinking of working at Inferno? I work there. My name’s Alexa.”

I take the flyer from her hand and say, “Hi, I’m Mila. Yeah, I really need a job and I live close by, I’m just not sure it’s a good fit.”

“Oh, right—the rumors.” She shakes her head and then rolls her eyes. “I don’t want to force you or anything, but I know the owner—he’s great. Takes really good care of the people who work there, and on the off chance there’s an issue, he steps in personally. Plus the tips are amazing. It’s how I afford everything.” She tugs on the diamond pendant on her necklace. I don’t think she’s doing it intentionally though.

“Really? Because I’m freaking out. I might lose my scholarship and without some other income I’d have to drop out. As if my rent isn’t expensive enough.” I shock even myself with blurting out nothing but the truth about my current predicament.

“You should come by tonight. I’ll be there, and you can feel it out. But it would be nice to have some more estrogen in that place,” she smiles.

We’re interrupted as the teacher arrives, asking everyone to quiet down. Alexa slips me a note with her name and the time of her shift. Apparently, if I show the note to whoever’s working the door I don’t need to wait in line.

As I leave class, the clouds have gone, and the sky’s bluer than I’ve seen in months. I smile to myself, hoping that my luck might finally be turning around.

Bryce

Before the match I have to “meet and greet” per Nathan’s instructions. As a coach, he gives great boxing advice, but the business side is somewhat questionable.

I’m swarmed with people asking for autographs and pictures. It’s not my safety that I’m worried about, just that if we give away too much then the lure of the club will dwindle.

I make a mental note to talk to coach about it, before a thin, shady-looking guy leans in close, whispering he heard my brother is back in town. The shouts for a photo or signature fade away, and everything is a humming overtone as the thought sinks in.

If it’s true, worrying about the business will be the least of my problems. The last time I sent him away, it was supposed to be for good. Either he ran out of money or ran into trouble.

My expression must be bleak, because a groupie in the typical tiny dress rubs my arm. “I can turn that frown upside down,” she winks. “Take me home tonight.”

Nathan appears, saving me, and announces it’s time for me to get ready.

In the locker room, before I change we sit on the pine bench. There have been some concerns with the online pool for the fights, and I need to know how it’s being dealt with.

“Well, it keeps growing, and it’s really catching on. But of course the bigger it is, the harder every small detail is. I’ve been getting these IRS notices—“

“What have you done to fix it?” My blood is at a boil. “You have all of the money and resources you could need—there’s no excuse.”

He goes to say something but I cut him off.

“I’m trusting you to handle this, but if my name is attached to this or anything else you run on the side, it ends. The money, the girls, the lifestyle,” I say, my head throbbing with pressure as I attempt to control my irritation at him.

Sam, my bar manager, walks in, and Nathan takes the opportunity to leave, saying he needs a drink. Sam waits for him to close the locker room door before saying anything.

Sam isn’t a tall guy, and he’s getting older. His black hair is speckled with grey, and he’s a little pudgy. He’s at the bar almost all the time.

“Sorry to interrupt you, Bryce, but we’re about to go over capacity. I don’t want the club to get shut down or the fight to be canceled.”

I shake my head at the absurdity of the warning. “No, I’m glad you told me. Call the agency and ask them to send in two more bouncers.”

“Absolutely.” Sam starts to leave, but turns around. “Bryce? I don’t want to overstep. I’m just the bar manager, but if Nathan is keeping tabs, he should have told you about the crowd tonight.”

I look at Sam, realizing how much courage it took him to say something about Coach. Nathan and I go way back. He made some bad choices and was in a bad way when we connected, so I gave him a job.

“I just want to make sure we’re all looking out for you,” he adds. I realize that this is more than a job. It’s Sam’s life.

“I appreciate that,” I say, then give him a solid pat on his shoulder.

Sam goes silent for a moment and I can tell there’s something he’s holding back. “I better leave you to get ready. Have a good fight.”

He shuffles out, almost bowing. There’s almost a fatherly concern in Sam, and I’m not used to that kind of interaction. But Nathan is absolutely my friend. He understands what our relationship provides and would not want to lose it. It’s a give and take, which is easier to understand than Sam’s employment situation here. He only asks for straight pay. No perks.

My mind is too clouded with the whirl of concerns for the night, so to clear my thoughts I play loud rock music until Nathan comes to get me to warm up.

When we walk out the door the crowd booms with applause. Coach lifts a rope for me and I duck under it.

I practice a few jabs, move around to warm up my legs, and then the bell rings. We circle around the ring, dodging a few punches. I know I got this, I’m going to take him.

Suddenly I’m frozen. Just over the other guy’s left ear I see a mesmerizing woman, lit by one of the recessed lights. Her face is without makeup, as far as I can tell, and she is wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, but something in her face holds my gaze. She is beautiful, but looks wary. Blue eyes stare back, but they are not impressed or enamored—she looks worried.

Out of nowhere a right hook catches me in the face, and I fall to the ground. The round is called, and I retreat to the corner where coach rattles off a slew of questions, but all I can see is her face. She looks worried and mad and beautiful.