Prizefight: The Hell Raiders MC Goes MMA (12 page)

I finally dragged my ass out of bed, feeling like I hadn't slept in days. A hot shower and some ice helped though. While I was doing all that, and eating breakfast, I refused to let my mind go to anything related to Elena. It took every ounce of the discipline I used in training and fighting, but I managed it. I even took the time to clean up after myself and get dressed.

The instant the .45 found its comfy spot in the holster inside the waist of my jeans, I grabbed my phone and hit Stella's number.

"Took your ass long enough, brother."

"You sound like you expected me to call, or something." Bastard knew me too damn well.

"Trying to figure out why you didn't call hours ago, motherfucker. What the hell's wrong with you?"

I shrugged and switched hands with the phone. "Dunno, guess I'm a dumb fuck, or something."

"First step to recovery is admitting there's a problem. Now, how we going to solve yours?"

We tossed ideas back and forth for a few minutes without coming up with anything groundbreaking. Finally, we decided to take another look at Royse's building. Maybe we'd find some secret there.

A half hour later, we sat in my Chevelle at the abandoned laundromat across the street, waiting as the city got on with its day. "You think she's still in there?" My mind raced with the possibilities. Royse could have killed her, or any number of other things by now. Why the hell had I been so stubborn?

Stella shrugged with his usual calm attitude. "No way of knowing for sure, unless we get someone inside, or we get eyes on her. For now, I guess we wait and see. I made a couple calls earlier, so maybe one of those ideas will pan out." He rolled his window down and lit a cigarette.

Any other time, I would bitch him out good for smoking in my car. At the moment, though, I didn't give a fuck. Way more important shit to consider.

Across the street, the blinds went up in one of the top floor windows, and a human form was briefly silhouetted against a light in the room, then disappeared. What could be on that floor? Living quarters, maybe? Offices? Fuck, for that matter, what did Royse even have in the building?

Stella's phone gave a soft ding, indicating an incoming text. He read and quickly tapped out a reply. "Okay, got a little info from my girl downtown. Royse bought this building for a song, when it was ready to be demolished, and set about restoring it. From what she can find, he returned it to very near original condition. It was a high-end hotel in the nineteen-twenties. He has it zoned as a single-occupancy home now."

Impatience beat against my chest. "What good does that do us?" Hell, I already knew parts of that.

"Not a lot, yet. But we do know he probably lives there. And we know the joint is important to him, or he wouldn't have put the money into it."

I nodded. "Okay, that makes sense. Still don't see how we can use that to get Elena back."

"Just hold on, brother. Matter of putting the little pieces together and getting the big picture. This is just the first corner. We'll get more, and soon."

Fuck, I wished I had Stella's certainty. I couldn't be so sure, though, with fear eating me from the inside out. What if my stubborn child bullshit had gotten Elena killed? Hell, I might never even know if she lived or died. My breath stuck in my throat, and I rolled the window down, trying to get some air.

"Hey, man, keep it together. We'll do everything we can to get her back." Stella gave my shoulder a slap that would have knocked me on my ass if I wasn't already sitting.

I nodded, more to convince myself than him. He could afford to sit there all calm and cool. His woman wasn't in the clutches of some asshole with delusions of grandeur, or whatever shit would cause him to dump millions into restoring a building like that. The thought clicked with something else in my head.

"Hey, Stella? What do we know about Royse's mental health?"

A cloud of smoke surrounded his head. "Not a great deal, why?"

"Just thinking. What kind of guy restores a building like that to the original condition unless he plans to make a lot more money off it than he puts in? Assuming he has no family ties to the building, anyway. I guess that would make a difference."

The cigarette butt went flying out the window. "I don't know, but we might be able to find out some stuff." He lit another smoke. "Now tell me what you're thinking."

I stared at Royse's building, putting it together out loud. "I'm not sure, but it seems to me the guy would have to be, I don't know, maybe obsessed with that period of history. The twenties was prohibition, gangsters, mob, all kinds of crime flourished. Underground fighting was a big thing. And prostitution. Bootleg booze. Guns. Street gangs. All of which we now know he's involved with. What if he imagines himself to be some modern-day Al Capone, or something?" I stopped and shook my head. "Never mind. It's too far-fetched."

Stella put a hand up. "Hold on. You might have something there. The fight posters. He has them printed to look like handbills from the twenties, or something. And the suits he wears all the time. I just figured he was too cheap to buy new, but they could be from that period, too." He nodded and pulled out his phone again, scrolled through his contacts, and sent off a long text.

"You got a way to find out?"

"Maybe. Got someone looking into it." Just like always, Stella kept his sources to himself.

I didn't mind, though, as long as it helped me get Elena back. Assuming she even wanted to come back to me, that is. What the fuck would I do if she didn't?

He nudged my arm. "Check that shit." He nodded to where a car pulled up in front of Royse's building.

I gave a low whistle. That was not just any car. A dark red 1930 Hudson Super Eight rolled to a stop, and a uniformed driver got out, spent a moment wiping the chrome of the headlamps. He stashed his rag, then opened the rear passenger door and stood waiting, hat in hand.

Stella and I slid down a little in our seats and kept watching. After a bit, the front door of the building opened, frosted glass and brass hardware gleaming, and a man in a black suit held it, also waiting.

A moment later, Royse came out with a woman on his arm. Her wide brimmed hat hid most of her face, but red hair showed clearly at her shoulders. She wore a pale-colored dress that dropped straight to her hips, concealing any hint of curves, then flared out a little and ended below her knees. Royse led her to the car, and she stopped for a second to take her hat off before climbing inside.

The flash of Elena's pale, terrified face sent my heart racing. Before I could straighten up and do anything about it, Royse got in after her and the car took off. I started the Chevelle and peeled out of the laundromat lot before it disappeared entirely.

I stayed back, trying not to alert the driver. When another car cut in front of me, I didn't push, just gladly used the buffer. Stella was on his phone, texting non-stop, but I didn't ask. I was too busy trying to keep my heart from jumping out of my chest.

At a four-way stop, a motorcycle idled, the driver busy with his cellphone, so he missed his turn to go. Royse's car went through, and the car behind him stopped. The bike turned and followed Royse.

"Okay, we can back off a little. That's our man on the bike."

Relief fought with my need to stop that Hudson, drag Elena out of it and kill Royse. The only thing truly stopping me was the knowledge that even if I took her back, we still had the issue of her mother. We had no idea where Royse had her, or if she was even still alive. So I hung back and bided my time.

That old car created quite a stir, driving through a rough part of town. The few people out so early stopped and gawked. The bike stopped at a shop, one of the few we'd seen still open, and an old beater car came out and took his place. I edged a little closer, but still didn't push. If Royse or his driver made us, Elena would be in more danger than she already was.

When Royse's car pulled over in front of a rundown apartment building, Stella's buddy in the beater went on by, and so did I, careful not to pay too much attention. I took the next right and parked next to a burned out church.

I didn't even have to ask. Stella got out and walked back toward where Royse had parked. I practically held my breath, staring at my phone, willing it to give me some kind of update. A smoke would have been good right about then, even if I didn't smoke. Anything to pass the fucking time.

After half an hour and no word, I gave up and went to the trunk to dig out an old baseball cap. With the hat pulled low, I strolled in the direction Stella had disappeared. He was nowhere in sight when I rounded the corner, so I kept walking.

Shrill sounds and shouted curses caught my attention, just in time to see Royse stumble from the alley beside the apartment building. He held something small and furious at arm's length, shouting directions to his driver.

The man hurried and dragged one of those plastic pet carrier crates from the back of the car and held it open. Royse tried and tried to thrust the squirming thing in his grip into the carrier, but it resisted strongly.

I got a little closer and just stopped, shaking my head. The fucker was trying to put a screeching, scratching, biting cat into the carrier, and it clearly had other ideas. Surely he hadn't just grabbed up some stray alley cat?

Stella crossed the street and approached Royse, speaking quietly, then helped him get the cat inside the crate and the door closed. Royse stood there, cursing and wiping blood, and occasionally replying to whatever Stella said.

After a moment, Stella laughed a little, leaned down to peer into the car and said something, then walked away with a half salute. I stepped behind the corner of a building, and waited. Stella gave me a slight nod as he passed without breaking stride, and I stayed put.

Royse's car went by, slow enough for me to get a good look at Elena's face. She wore a smile, but looked even more frightened than before. As soon as it was out of sight, I jogged back for the car to see what Stella had learned. I couldn't wait to hear what would make a bastard like Royse pick up a feral cat and try to rescue it. Didn't they usually use traps for that kind of thing?

I finally managed to breathe a little as the driver pulled away from my building. The whole time Royse was trying to catch an alley cat, I just knew he was going to kill me for mentioning a cat. He refused to let me out of the car to help, or I could have just pretended to give up.

And then I saw Juaquin watching from the stairwell door. He recognized me, and started toward the car with a big grin. Thank God he saw me shaking my head and went back before Royse spotted him. Those two meeting would not go well.

When Ryker's friend, Stella, came over and helped get the damn cat in the cage, I thought I would die. But Royse climbed in the car after Stella leaned down to wave at me, and we left. I nearly choked to keep from laughing at all the blood dripping from Royse's hands. I had to look away.

Ryker. Right there in plain sight. My stomach threatened to get rid of the fancy breakfast Royse made me eat. If he got caught, we would both die. I found that out earlier when one of Royse's men came in during the breakfast thing, and reported they still hadn't found Ryker. One of the fancy china plates flew against the wall, shattering, as Royse screamed for them to bring him Ryker's head. The entire morning left me even more terrified of Royse than before.

Behind the seat, the cat yowled and hissed, pitching a fit about everything. Royse leaned to look at it, still trying to stop the bleeding from his bites and scratches. "My dear, I do hope this cat settles down. I would hate to have to kill it."

My stomach did the threatening thing again. I couldn't let him kill the poor thing. "I told you, he doesn't like people. We should have just left him there, where he's used to being. I could ask the neighbor to put food out." My heart pounded in fear of his reaction.

So far, Royse hadn't showed any signs of violence against me, but that didn't mean shit. He nodded, calm as could be. "Yes, my dear, we probably should have. But I want you to be happy in your new home. If a stray cat helps, then you'll have your cat."

I swallowed hard. "I don't need a cat to be happy."

He brushed one finger over my cheek, with a sappy-ass smile that said he'd gone completely around the bend. "I'm glad to hear that, darling. I feared the transition might be difficult for you." His fingers snapped, getting the driver's attention right away.

"Yes, sir?"

"Go back where we were. My fiancé has decided we don't need the cat."

Fiancé? I fought back a gag. Shit, I had to find some way out of this mess. At least, it seemed like Ryker and Stella might be willing to help. I felt like the biggest fool in the world for leaving Ryker like that. He'd been nothing but good to me, and I shoved it back in his face. Stupid.

Of course, that was just normal for me. Give me two bad choices, and I would take the worst one, every damn time. The driver stopped in front of my building again, breaking my train of thought. Panic surged. I had to find a way.

"Wait!" I laid a hand on Royse's arm before he climbed out. "I'd really like to let the cat go. Would that be okay? So I can say goodbye?" I kept my voice low and gentle, trying to be the woman he seemed to want me to be.

"Of course, darling, if that's what you want. Come, I'll walk with you." He got out and held his hand to help me. My skin crawled at the thought of touching him again, but I had no choice. He brought the cat cage and kept his other hand at the small of my back, guiding me into the alley.

I made a big show of leaning down to baby-talk the hissing, spitting cat like it was one of those spoiled rich-people pets. Oddly enough, it calmed a little at the sound of my voice. I managed to open the cage without getting bitten or scratched, and the poor cat darted out of the cage. He disappeared under the dumpster before someone could grab him again. Poor thing would probably have nightmares about being cat-napped for weeks.

The thought made me smile a little, and before I could move away, Royse wrapped an arm around my shoulders and kissed my forehead. "It's so good to see you happy, darling." The man had definitely lost a few marbles or something, to go from trying to have a trick kill me to treating me like a princess or something.

Fear scooted over my skin at how easy it would be to tip him back in the other direction. The wrong word at the wrong time, and the switch would flip. If that happened, he would kill me himself. I had to be very careful what I said and did, and still find a way to contact Ryker.

"Thank you for taking care of me." I leaned into his side, hoping he would take that as a sign of affection. "Is it okay if I talk to my old neighbor and ask him to put food out for the cat?"

He squeezed me a little. "Of course, darling. Let's go." And just like that, he led me back to the front of the building and up to the door.

Now what the hell was I supposed to do? I hadn't dared to hope he might actually let me speak to Juaquin myself. At best, I thought he might have the driver pass along a message. But no, it seemed I would at least get to see Juaquin myself, even if Royse did the talking. He led the way into the stairwell, keeping a firm grip of my arm.

Juaquin appeared at the top of the six steps that led up to the first floor, a gun held down next to his leg. "What can I do for you folks?" There was no mistaking the hostility in his voice. He acted like he didn't recognize me. My drug dealer neighbor suddenly frightened me far less than the man at my side.

"Juaquin, it's Elena." Speaking first, without Royse's permission, seemed like a big risk, but I took it anyway. Getting hit by a stray bullet wasn't high on my list of things to do.

A broad grin settled on Juaquin's face. "Well, look at you, girl. Look like you done foun' Prince Charmin'. How you momma doin'?"

I forced a smile. "She's real good." I patted Royse's arm like a proud girlfriend or some shit, trying to figure out how to word things to give him the information I needed passed to Ryker. "Royse got her a doctor and everything. She even has a room of her own in his building."

Juaquin's eyebrows rose. "I'm glad to hear it. So that's where you stayin' at now?"

Royse cleared his throat as I nodded. "Oh, yeah, could you feed that little alley cat I was feeding for me? And if my friend Stella from the library comes around asking for me, just tell her mom's doing great and I'll see her as soon as I get settled." Hopefully, Juaquin would connect the dots and if Stella, or Ryker, came asking for me, would give them the message. I couldn't chance saying anything more direct.

Juaquin nodded, but his eyes narrowed a little. "Stella, huh? Remind me which one she is. You know I don't pay no 'ttention to names."

I widened my eyes and gave a fake giggle. "You know, the one that looks like a dude in a leather skirt. Little too much facial hair."

"Oh, yeah, I 'member that chick." He adjusted his shirt. "Not my type, but she smokin'."

"That's her. Thanks Juaquin, I owe you one."

Royse cut my reply short with a tug to my arm. "We should go, darling."

"Of course." I turned back toward the door.

"Hey, Elena."

I looked over my shoulder to see what Juaquin wanted.

"You don't owe me nothin', girl. I'll let your friend know. You just take care yourse'f, hear me?" His big smile nearly made me miss the deadly serious glint in his dark eyes. It looked like my whole act hadn't fooled him one bit.

"I hear you. I'll do my best." Before I had a chance to say any more, Royse led me back outside and to the car. Not long after, the driver stopped us in front of Royse's building, exactly where he first picked us up.

Royse told the driver to wait, and helped me out of the car and to the door. A man who looked exactly like the ones from last night met us there. "Take my fiancé to her suite, Green." He leaned in to kiss my cheek. "I'll be back in time for dinner, darling. Green here will help you if you need or want anything." And just like that, he went back to the car, leaving me alone.

Not sure what else to do, I followed Green inside to the elevator. The only thing I wanted to do was run to the basement and grab mom, and get us both the hell out of there. Even if I could get to her, though, she wouldn't be willing to go with me. She'd fallen hook, line, and sinker for Royse's craziness.

Riding up in the elevator, I tried to think back to the last real conversation I had with my mom before yesterday. For so many years, she'd been locked inside her own head, as if to escape the pain of her disease. It had been a long time since she and I had talked about anything more than my trying to convince her to eat. She had sometimes asked how my day had gone, but I lied, knowing she didn't really want the details.

Green opened the elevator gate about the time I started wondering if my mother even cared to know the truth about Royse and what was going on here. After all, he helped her to not have so much pain, and made her comfortable. With what she'd gone through, would anything else matter to her? Should it matter to me?

At the door to my rooms, I turned back to Green. "Do you think it would be okay if I went downstairs and had lunch with my mom?"

I held my breath while he appeared to consider. Finally, he nodded. "She has lunch at one. I'll come back up and escort you to her."

"Thank you." I hid my sigh of relief and slipped inside the big carved door.

Fear had kept me from exploring too much last night and this morning. I didn't think Royse would be too happy with me looking for weapons or a way out of his beautiful bird cage. With him at least out of the building, I might not get a better chance.

I started looking around carefully, worried Royse could have cameras in the rooms. I tried to make sure I just looked curious about my new home. Time got away from me as I checked out all the luxuries I'd only ever read about or seen in movies.

It seemed like just a few minutes had passed when Green knocked on the door and asked if I was ready to go to my mom. The temptation to fake a headache and keep exploring was hard to resist, but I also needed to find out more about my mom. It came as a shock that I knew so little about her, beyond her health shit. Hell, I had no idea if she would even really object to my being a whore to support us. I always just assumed she wouldn't like it.