ROMANCE: Bear Naked Passion (Billionaire Bear Trio Book 2) (54 page)

Chapter 2

“You’re an idiot,” Alex muttered to herself. Once again, she’d let her temper get the better of her, and now she’d not only ruined a friend’s birthday but cost herself a ride home. Kicking a can along the sidewalk in the dark, she sighed to herself, checking her phone. She could always call a cab, but her home was only a thirty-minute walk. In the daytime that was nothing, and it wasn’t like it would be the first time that she’d gone home alone after midnight.

As she turned down a side street and passed behind a few dumpsters, she froze at the sound of a ragged voice.

“G-get the car,” it wheezed. “Meet me on s-seventy and third.”

Alex stood there, one foot raised in mid-step, waiting for the voice to say something else. When nothing happened, she slowly put her foot down and turned toward it, peeking behind a cluster of empty trashcans.

A man was lying on his back, clutching his stomach as he huffed and puffed, his breaths shallow in the cold night air. As Alex inched closer she flinched when she stepped on shattered glass, the sound making a harsh crackle in the otherwise silent night.

“Who is it?” the man shouted, jerking his head to look at her. Alex couldn’t help her jaw drop at the sight of Hector Herakles, his face bloody and bruised with an eye swollen shut and the other flashing dangerously in the dark.

“H-hello,” Alex said awkwardly, clearing her throat.

“Who are you?” Hector glared, his jaw clenched. “You work for them?”

“Uh,” Alex glanced over her shoulder. “Who?”

“Mickey,” Hector ground out. “And his gang.”

“Yeah, I don’t know who that is,” Alex said with a shrug. “I’m Alexandra—I’m a freelance photographer, so I don’t really work for anyone, if you catch my drift.”

That seemed to appease Hector, and he let himself relax, surprising Alex as she watched him deflate before her eyes. He coughed as his head dropped back to the piles of trash he was laying on, and Alex could swear that she saw blood fly out of his mouth.

              “Are you okay?” she said, raising her hands up as she drew closer. Hector just grimaced, the hand holding his stomach fisting in his sweater, and Alex took that as a sign to kneel next to him. “I mean,” she said, licking her lips as she looked him up and down. “Clearly you’re not, but I also know that you can really take a beating, so I guess I’m asking if you’re in more pain than normal.”

              That made Hector’s chest jump, and for a moment she thought that he was spasming until he croaked out a laugh. “You know me?” he asked.

              “Oh, sure,” she said, trying to distract him with her words as she lifted up the end of his sweater. “Everyone knows Hector Herakles. It’s practically a household name.”

              “Liar,” Hector groaned, moving his hand. Alex took the opportunity and lifted up his shirt, blanching at the blood she found there. “Don’t meet many girls who like underground fighting,” Hector said, gently rubbing a hand over his sweater. Alex saw what he was doing and let go. “Well, not normal ones, anyway.”

              “Normal?” Alex huffed a laugh. “Sir, I can guarantee that I am most definitely not normal.” Not when the world’s version of normal was Jessica and Andrea.

              “My eyes might not be working too well right now,” Hector said, turning his good eye to roam over her face. “But you don’t have piercings, no gages in your ears. Got any tattoos?”

              “Nope,” she shook her head, her red hair flying around her.

              “Then you’re normal,” he said confidently, turning his head back to lay flat.

              Alex watched him for a minute, debating on whether she should call an ambulance or not, when she blurted, “I drink coffee cold and black.”

              Hector looked back toward her. “What?”

              “I prefer oil for my car to perfume for my neck. I like fights, but flinch at guns.” Alex moved her hand to start ticking off her fingers, frowning at nothing as she tried to recall everything that she’d ever been called weird for. “I don’t want Barbie but I’ll take a Ken doll. I do my New Year’s resolutions every midnight on my birthday.” Glancing back at Hector, she said, “So you see, I’m not normal.”

              Hector’s split lip broke out in a grin, and he said, “I stand corrected.” Then, hissing in pain, he added, “I guess a normal girl wouldn’t have walked into an alley that a stranger was lying in. Or, at the very least, would’ve called for help by now.”

              Alex felt her face flush, and she moved to grab her phone. “You’re right, I’m so sorry—”

              “Don’t bother,” he breathed, placing a bloody hand over hers as she typed in her phone’s passcode. “I’ve already got someone on the way.”

              “Is that who you were talking to?” Alex asked suddenly. “When I heard you earlier?”

              “Probably,” he said with a grunt. “How long ago was it, do you think?”

              Alex shrugged. “A few minutes.”

              “Ah,” he said. “You should leave then. They’ll be here soon.”

              “I don’t think that’s a very good—”

              “What’s your name?” he asked suddenly. “Since you know mine?”

              “Oh. I gave it to you already—”

              “No, no, no,” he said softly, shaking his head. “Your full name.”

              Alex frowned. “Wait, is
your
full name really Hector Herakles?”

              “No,” he chuckled. “That’s my stage name. I’m Hector Sanchez.”

              “Oh,” Alex said, tucking a lock of red hair behind her ear. “In that case, I’m Alex Andrews.”

              “You prefer Alex?” he breathed.

              “Mostly,” she said, blushing. “But I—”A buzzing cut her off, and she reached for her phone.

“It’s mine,” Hector said, pulling out a black flip phone from underneath him. He opened it and put it to his ear. After a moment he pulled it away and looked hard at Alex. “They’re here. You need to leave.”

The sound of feet spurred her to stand, and she glanced at the shadows around them as she stood over Hector. He only laughed at her movements.

“You could be a fighter yourself, with a stance like that,” he said. “But put down your fists—these are my allies. So make yourself scarce.”

The footfalls were getting louder, and Alex looked down at Hector. He nodded at her with a smile, a look that she’d never seen from him in the ring.

“Get well,” she said quietly, patting his knee before taking off.

“Be safe,” he called after her.

She willed herself not to look back.

Chapter 3

The next few weeks passed quickly for Alex. She and Gloria had long since made up, especially since her friend didn’t blame her for any of it.

“They’re awful,” she’d told Alex. “But Jessica is the daughter of mom’s best friend, and Andrea—”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Alex had told her, touching up some photos on her computer for a client. “Just know that I hate them.”

“Deal,” Gloria had laughed.

Now it’d been a month since Gloria’s birthday, and the two still hadn’t met up. Alex was dreaming about just showing up on Gloria’s doorstep and pulling her out for a night of real drinks and tough bar hopping when she woke up to a series of hard banging on her own apartment door.

Yawning into her hand as she crawled out of bed, she walked across the small space to look through the peephole and see just who the hell had gotten the wrong idea that she was a morning person.

One look had her suddenly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

She scrambled to undo her three locks, finally yanking the door open and making the man standing on the other side of it pause mid-knock.

“H-Hector,” she said, pulling her hair behind her shoulders in an attempt to at least make it look more presentable.

“Alex,” Hector greeted, his eye still bruised but not swollen nearly as much as it had been the night that she’d seen him in the alley.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she blurted, suddenly
very
self-conscious in her oversized t-shirt nightgown that just barely covered her ass. “Are you—I mean, how did you know where I lived?”

“Yes, I’m much better now,” he said, ignoring her question as he stepped past her into the studio apartment. Alex didn’t know what to do, so she just closed the door behind him, hoping that none of her prying neighbors had seen the muscular Hispanic man banging on her door at eight in the morning. After looking around the room for a moment, Hector turned back to Alex. “And how are you?” he asked.

“Me?” she said, frowning slightly. “I mean, I’m good.” Glancing at her dresser, she said, “Uh, you did just wake me, though. Could you, like, close your eyes while I put some pants on?” She wasn’t the thinnest girl, she knew, and the last thing she wanted was for Hector Herakles to catch a glance of the stretch marks across her lower stomach.

“Of course,” Hector said, clasping his hands together in a relaxed stance while he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Thanks,” Alex breathed, and she rushed past him to grab a purple pair of pajama pants and step into them, yanking them up quickly. “All right,” she said happily, clapping her hands together. “So, to what do I owe this visit?” Stepping into her small kitchen corner, she pulled out a small bottle of milk and grabbed a plastic cup from the counter.

“I have caught those responsible for my injuries,” he said, leaning up against a wall. “And I thought you deserved to know that I resolved it.”

“Well, I appreciate you telling me,” she agreed. “But that doesn’t explain how you found my apartment.”

“Your name,” Hector admitted. “It gave me your address.”

“O-kay,” Alex said, frowning.

“I didn’t throw a fight,” Hector said suddenly. “That was why you found me the way that you did.”

“Oh,” she said. “So, you were supposed to lose?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I was meant to win.”

Alex had never heard of that before. “Huh. Correct me if I’m wrong, but wouldn’t it have been better for you all around if you did? Win it, I mean.”

“I was tired of it,” Hector shrugged. “So I lost, and left early for the night. I didn’t expect them to follow me.”

“And beat the shit out of you,” she said.

“They hired other boys from the ring,” Hector said. “They didn’t kill me, but I’m out. No more fights in the underground for Herakles.”

“Oh,” Alex said, eyes wide. “Uh, so what’re you going to do now, then?”

At that, Hector trained his eyes on hers. “Fight.”

“Yeah,” she snorted. “Cause that worked out so well for you before.”

“I already have offers,” he said. “But only one accepted my condition.”

“And what’s that?” Alex asked, sipping on her milk.

“That my medic always has a first class seat.”

Alex finished her glass, and tossed the cup into the trash. “Yeah? Some rings allow their fighters to make demands like that?”

Hector kicked himself off of the wall and approached her, shooting an arm out as she tried to exit the small kitchen. “Just the one,” he said. “Another didn’t care, until I told them that the medic was a woman.”

“So where was your medic last night?” Alex asked, trying to keep her cool as she ducked underneath his arm and stepped by her bed. “Or is that why you want them at all of your fights from now on?”

“My medic was there,” Hector said, stepping around her with his long legs to cut her off as she made to move near the bathroom. “She stayed by my side until I demanded that she leave.”

Realization struck Alex like lightning. “Oh. Oh
no
.” Eyes wide, she back peddled. “Look, Hector—”

“My first fight is tonight,” he said, withdrawing an envelope from his jean pocket. “Be there.” When she didn’t make a move to take it, he simply tossed it onto her bed.

She watched as he walked past her, his eyes on the door. “Look, Hector, I’m no nurse or anything—”

“Last night,” he said, stopping with his hand on the door. “You appeared at my darkest moment. I was seconds from passing out, and then you appeared. Made me laugh, even.” Pausing, he looked up at her, his typically dull eyes fierce. “I want to see your face, your red hair, in the audience when I fight.”

“But I’m not—”

“I want you there,” he said, an edge of finality to his tone. Then, twisting her door knob, he left, closing the door shut behind him.

Alex collapsed onto her bed, sprawling her arms out around her. She jumped when she felt the sharp corner of the envelope, but made no move to grab it.

Who was she to this guy?

Chapter 4

Alex awoke, for the second time that Sunday, to a loud banging on her door.

She jumped awake, her eyes wide as she realized that she must’ve fallen asleep. Crawling to the end of her bed to hoist herself up by a bed post, she glanced at the clock on her microwave. It was five o’clock, and she was frustrated to see that she’d overshot her normal alarm by three hours.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Alex threw a scowl at the door, and made her slow way over to it.

She groggily answered the door, expecting Gloria, when a man in a business suit pushed his way inside.

“Whoa!” she yelled, jumping in front of him to block his entrance. “Who the hell are you?” she growled, desperately trying to remember where she’d put her dragon dagger last. It was a decorative piece that was dull as fuck, but even a piece of straw could piece a tree with the force of a tornado behind it.

“Good evening,” the man said curtly. “I’m here on behalf of Mr. Sanchez, who requests your presence at once.”

“
Mr.
Sanchez, huh?” she drawled, crossing her arms. “If this is about that fight—”

“Our club prefers to use the term ‘match,’ Miss…” he patted his breast pocket, pulling out a white notecard. “…Andrews. Now, time is of the essence, so if you wouldn’t mind changing, we need to leave within the hour.” With that, he tossed a black dust-covered something with a hanger sticking out of the top onto the bed.

“What the hell is that?” Alex asked, her tone indicating that she actually had no care to know what it was and, she hoped, that she had absolutely no desire to put it on.

“A dress,” the man said curtly, and Alex dropped her crossed arms to roll her eyes.

“Is there anything I can say to make you leave?” she huffed.

“Nothing in the slightest,” he said, glancing at his wristwatch. “Now, if you don’t mind, where would be the best place for me to stand while you make yourself decent?”

Alex clenched her jaw, her cheeks flaming at the insult there. Marching over to him, she snatched the dress off the bed and walked into her bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She could hear the man mutter something outside the room, but she just huffed and ignored him.

She glanced at herself in the mirror. First things first, before fights or ‘matches’ or anything else, she needed a shower. She tossed her t-shirt onto the back of the toilet and stepped out of her pajama bottoms, twisting the shower knob to the middle setting. She’d never been able to take cold showers, but maybe a lukewarm one would help her cool off.

After scrubbing her scalp with shampoo, soaking it in conditioner, and running a lemon-scented loofa all over her body, she emerged from her shower refreshed, and more than a little excited to see what the hell kind of dress Hector sent for her.

She hung it on the shower rod, keeping it straight while she unzipped the dust cover. A long blue dress caught the light immediately, shining under the light bulb as Alex pulled it out. Little gems, similar to those that Alex had seen on bedazzle machines, were stitched into the soft material, lighting up like a giant sapphire.

What kind of underground club demanded formal wear like this?

Her bathroom was small, even for a studio apartment, and she had to be mindful of her elbows as she tried to squeeze into the dress. It was pretty obvious that she wasn’t a size two, and it seemed that Hector had definitely noticed as she glanced at the size sixteen tag. Yet, it was only as she had it hallway up her hips, that she realized she was going to need a bra.

Unlocking the bathroom door to crack it open, she called, “Hey, you still out there?”

“Yes?” the man answered, sounding alarmingly close.

“Um,” she said, shrinking behind the door. “Could you, like, step into the hall for a sec?”

“I am in your kitchenette, staring at the wall,” he answered calmly. “Please proceed as if I were not here.”

“Cause that’s comforting,” Alex muttered under her breath. Grabbing a towel to wrap around her breasts, she cautiously stepped out with the dress on her hips. The man was true to his word, his back to her as he stared straight ahead, and she made a mad dash for her bra. Grabbing it (and a pair of underwear), she moved back to the bathroom and shut the door, flicking the lock once more.

“Cool,” she breathed to herself. Letting the towel drop to the floor, she pulled on the bra and clasped it in the back, and went back to pulling up the dress.

It fit better than anything she’d ever worn. Her mirror was small and could only show her from the waist up, but just that alone made her gasp. The dress, while a solid bright blue, wasn’t just randomly sprinkled with gems like she’d first thought. They created a diamond design that lead inward, making her stomach seem smaller while accentuating her curves.

It looked good.

Stepping out of the bathroom, she said, “Uh, I’m ready?”

The man whirled around, checking his watch again as he did so. “Much better,” he said. “Now, come along. We have a car waiting.”

Before he could shoo her outside, she grabbed her purse, doing a double-take when she saw the envelope on her bed. Hesitating for a moment, she grabbed it, sticking it into her bag. Better safe than sorry.

“Come along, come along,” the man urged.

“When does this fight start, anyway?” she asked, locking her door behind them.

“The match starts at seven,” he said, a hand on her elbow. “In precisely one hour.”