Rev
“Please, I’m begging you, don’t do this—not for me. I don’t want to watch you get the life knocked out of you, Rev.”
Jenna sits at my feet, pleading with me. Her blue eyes swell with tears that hang off her eyelashes but somehow don’t fall. No one, outside of my overly anxious mother, has ever cried for me. I don’t know how I should feel about it.
“I’m not doing it just for you, Jenna,” I remind her. “I’m doing it so we can get the hell out of this mess. This ain’t gonna stop until Enrique and the Red Dukes are out of the picture. Plus, that prick deserves to get the shit beat out of him. He’s been on some high horse for far too long.”
She looks at me with longing eyes. “What does that even mean? What were you saying to him about other clubs wanting a piece of him?”
I want to tell her about Vic and his guys coming as backup, but ignorance is bliss in a situation like this. The less she knows, the better possibility of me keeping her safe. It kills me to do this, but it’s the best thing for her if she wants to make it out alive. Plus, I honestly have no idea their status. After shaking hands with Enrique back in the Red Duke’s barroom, Jenna and I were escorted out to this holding area (more like a dungeon) while the rest of the club sound like they’re preparing a boxing stage somewhere outdoors—probably to turn a profit on us. Even now, through the plywood-covered windows, I hear the noise of someone hammering in the distance.
I turn back to Jenna. “Every club owner I know would kill to get in on this action,” I tell her. “The guys I know hate Enrique. He’s a cocky and arrogant son of a bitch, and he thinks he runs the city when his club is peanuts compared to some of the bigger ones. I’m doing a favor by clocking him out.”
“But what about his history? You saw those pictures, Rev. He couldn’t have been lying about that.”
I flash back to those black and white photos of him in the ring. I heard about that when I first met him. A friend of mine with club connections introduced me to the ‘Killer,’ a guy with a great left hook. When I saw him, I didn’t believe the hype. He was pudgy, out of shape, and sweating like a pig. He wasn’t exactly the picture of a prize fighter. I laughed it off then thinking it was a sarcastic joke, but I’m not laughing anymore.
It’s not that I haven’t been in my share of fights. My entire life has been a battle to get through to the next day. I’ve made my mark on Chicago streets for my fists, my size, my work with my hands. It’s why Enrique sent me to find Mark, and why I ended up with Jenna at my feet begging me to stay put.
“Jenna,” I whisper, “nothing is going to happen to me. I know my way around a ring, and I’ve got something worth fighting for. In the past, I would be fighting to live. Today... it’s different.”
“What?” she asks, but I know she knows the answer. “What are you fighting for?”
“You,” I reply, as firmly as I can. “Us.”
“Us?”
Suddenly, with her rising to her knees, I make a promise to her. “Whatever this is, Jenna,” I say, with a reassurance I didn’t know I had in me, “whatever is happening between us, we’re going to see this through. I’m not going to let anyone get in the way of that. I’m going to fight for you, Jenna. I’m going to fight for us.”
With a heavy but determined sigh, I add the last piece of what I need to say, “But if I don’t make it, I need you to promise me something.”
“What is it, Rev?” She places herself in my lap, wrapping those thin arms around my neck. Her warm breath on my neck sets my skin on fire.
“I want you to get the hell out of here if things start to go wrong in that ring. No matter what you have to do, you do it. You’re not going to survive in a place like this. Enrique won’t let you after he’s done with me.”
“Rev—”
I take her chin by my thumb, forcing her to stare into my eyes. This is the part she can’t forget. And I’m not going to say it again.
“Jenna, I know you think you’re weak or powerless, but I know there’s a badass chick in there. If you know what’s good for you, and if you trust me when I say that there’s nothing worth living for here with the Red Dukes, you’ll find a way to get the fuck out of here and never look back, no matter what.”
She doesn’t say another word. Instead, she pushes my hand away and kisses me with such force that I’m knocked backward in my chair. Her hands race through my hair and along the back of my neck, with her perky tits pushed up against my chest and legs dangling off to the side.
The clock behind us ticks down. Enrique’s men could barge in here any minute and drag us both out to meet our fate. But the longing in my stomach for her taste, her smell, her body on my body is unavoidable. Without even thinking of the consequences or the men just outside our door, I begin to peel the neckline of her borrowed dress bit by bit until her chest is exposed to me. My lips travel the length of her neck to the crevice of her small mountains. I rub the side of my face against one nipple and my hand against the other tit. Her nipple falls into my waiting mouth.
“Rev... we can’t...”
Didn’t she say the same thing to me when I took her back in that red room? When was this girl going to learn that I take what I want when I want it? I guess it’s now or never. My hand wraps around hers, urging her to shut the hell up if we were going to be able to enjoy this moment.
Her large blue eyes grow large as she looks over her shoulder. Distracted, she doesn’t even notice my hand sliding up the inside of her dress towards her still-moist panties. My thumb hooks around the cotton band. Jenna gasps as I slip the fabric to the side of her velvety slit. My hand presses down even further on her mouth. As much as I love to hear her moan and scream my name, this time will be silent.
With her focused back on me, I place her slender hand on my pants. She catches on quickly as to what I want. Following my own tender strokes on her pussy, she matches my rhythm as she massages my cock through the outside of my jeans. Even through the thick fabric, I can feel the warmth and strength of her stroke. As my cock grows and throbs for her, she relents. With a bit of humor in her eyes, she stares me down while zipping my jeans off and removing the thick leather belt on my hips. My cock practically flies out of the package, eager to meet her.
I begin to move her legs into position when she places a finger to my mouth. “Shhh,” she hushes, and I’m helpless as she sinks back down to her knees on the cold concrete floor of this basement dungeon. Between my legs, her head bobs towards my cock. The light from the one overhead light shines down on the halo of her hair. And for a second, everything goes flash white as the touch of her hand is replaced by the juicy sweetness of her tongue on the tip of my shaft.
Jenna’s head dives down onto my thick rod till her still-red lips plaster a moist kiss on the base of my cock. She holds herself down there before heading up. Her hair bobs as she repeats this slowly, over and over again. I bite my fist as hard as I can to keep myself from calling out her name. My other hand holds on to that ponytail so that it wraps around my hand and wrist. Even with her taking over, I still need a bit of control.
Her lips suck me with just enough pressure that I can feel my skin draw up to her mouth as she skims her way up and down. Her whole body takes over, weaving and ducking as she speeds up to a rapid, frantic pace. I can barely focus on her face with it moving so quickly. I feel her hand wrap around my balls, and it’s all over for me. Inch by inch, every muscle in my body tenses to her efforts. My toes curl up in my boots, and I pray to God I can control this animal in me.
“Stop!” I burst out, forgetting the no talking rule. We both look towards the door, but there’s zero sign anyone cares what we’re doing in here. For all we know, they’re making some plan to kill us instead of going through with the boxing match. That thought alone makes my blood boil.
I look back towards Jenna and command her, “Get on me.”
She scrambles back up and straddles me with her legs dangling over the sides. Her toes just barely touch the ground, but I hold tight to her a round chunk of her apple ass for support. This is going to be a bumpy ride.
Jenna locks eyes with me as she uses her hand to guide my cock to her cunt. I watch as her mouth goes from locked shut to open in awe of the sensation. My shaft digs through her, sawing her in half. We both look down at our connection before beginning to move. It’s insane how in sync we are. Without words, she manages to meet the in and out of my hips, rocking gently at first, and then speeding up to match the pace of her earlier movements.
Her body is electric. Even with both of us almost fully dressed, feeling the curve of her hip, the fullness of her tits, the sharp angles of her shoulders and chin is enough for me. She will always be enough for me. I kiss her again, and again, and again until every part of us is held together—from the feet wrapped around mine to my cock in her slit to her arms wrapped around my neck, to our lips and tongues exploring the other’s.
Jenna’s small frame bounces lightly on mine. I feel her breathing pick up and become shallower as she gasps for air in between kisses. On the back of my neck, a hot searing pain skims the surface of my skin. Her nails dig in as she gives into me.
When she pulls away, her head and body dipping back while still holding on, I watch her soundlessly say my name, “Rev... Rev... Rev...” over and over again until it comes. Her orgasm screams through her with her eyes rolling back and her legs growing tense and then relaxing against my lap. Even her ankles stiffen around mine until her pussy takes over all of the work.
I’m just as close. I can feel the need to speed up and take over, and I don’t let myself stop this time. I need her to take my cum; to feel what she is able to do to me. I need to release this energy building up inside of me—all the darkness, the pain, the love, the joy. I need her to know that I care about her just as much as she does for me.
My hips speed up, drilling into her without a moment of pause. It goes and goes until I think I can’t get any higher into her body. She leans down and bites into my shoulder. I should take it as a sign to stop or hold off, but I can’t. It’s too late. The beast within me is bursting out. I feel my feet steady on the floor as I push off. With her still on me, I fly with her over to the nearest wall. Her back slams on the smooth surface as I continue even harder and faster than on the chair.
“Jenna,” I whisper into her ear, “I’m going to...”
“Come...” she finishes. “Please come for me, Rev.” She means it. The look in Jenna’s eyes is enough for me.
I drop her to her feet so that she kneels before me. In one pour, the cum shoots out of me and onto her pearl white tits. The black dress covers it up while it travels between her cleavage.
We have just enough time to clean up, each wiping the other off before she notices the lack of noise from the outside.
“Does that mean...” she begins.
“It’s almost time,” I tell her, answering the question neither of us wants to face. “They’re not going to keep anyone waiting.”
“Then, I have to tell you something, Rev.” She stands to her feet. Her long fingers fidget as she looks more flushed than she did when I had her panting like a dog in my lap.
“Don’t say it,” I shoot back. “Not now. Save it for later.”
“What if there isn’t a later?” Her eyes drop, clearly disappointed.
“What did I tell you earlier, Jenna?” I remind her, “I’m fighting for youtonight—for us. And not one single, solitary goddamn thing is going to stop me from winning.” I kiss her one more time, both of us too afraid to pull away.
Moments later, they come for me.
There isn’t a knock or an announcement—just two guys roughly my size holding out an old, tattered roll of boxing tape for me to use.
“I don’t use this shit,” I say, but they both shake their head and force it on me. Enrique must be going all out for this.
In the corner, Jenna watches on with a shaking lip. While I’m finishing up, one of the men links an arm with her and drags her out. She barely realizes what’s happening before she begins to shout, “Where are you taking me! Please! Just let me—”
Silently, I watch her turn out the doorway and towards the hallway.
“Rev! Please! Rev!” she screams
“You ready, Rev?” one of the guys ask. He looks vaguely familiar to me, but all the motorcycle kids look alike when you run in these circles. He’s young, though. Maybe he’s seen me around or heard my name. Maybe Enrique trusted him because he looks like he hits the gym as much as I do. Who knows, but at least he’s a relatively friendly face.
“What’s going on out there?” I ask. “Why is it taking so fucking long to make a ring for us to fight in?”
He looks towards the hallway before saying, “Enrique wanted to make some money off the fight. He brought in the Devil’s Highway guys and some bookies.” He adds on the side, “No one is betting on you. Enrique would probably have us shot dead if we did. It’s driving up the bets on the other side.”
“I guess it’s good to know someone’s on my side,” I mutter as he shows me out the door. I try not to slow down or look back at him or the room we’re leaving behind. I don’t run from my shit. I face it. There would be no looking back for me. I’ve made my decision, and it’s staring me in the face with the sound of the men chanting Enrique’s name over the sound of someone’s shitty rock music.
While the sea of Red Dukes and other club members part to make way for me, I take in the cool air. It’s the perfect night to either die or beat the shit out of someone.
Without a cloud in the sky, there’s a good view of the wine-red harvest moon. My dad, who was into superstitious bullshit, used to say that red moons meant war was coming. He was right. It is staring me in the face tonight.
I march myself into the makeshift ring someone created with a few pallets of wood and an old bandstand. From my limited experience working in boxing gyms, it’s about the right size, and except for the floor, has the bare bones of a good fighting area. Though I doubt Enrique cares about regulations and rules. All he wants is the show, and he’s giving a hell of a one as he dances and prances through the ring, begging his boys to shout along.
“You ready for this?” he asks as he skids his way over. His shoulder slams into mine. It’s begun.
“Ring the fucking bell,” I tell him through my gritted teeth. “Let’s get this over with.”
I watch him signal some club member to bang a wind chime. Out the corner of my eye, I then see Jenna standing off to my left, still hooked up with the club member escort. She mouths something to me I can’t quite make out.
Enrique takes advantage of this. A fist slams into my cheek and my head pitches back from the punch. The entire crowd wooshes in surprise. No one expected Enrique to nail me like that, at least not on the first hit. He lands another, this time to my side. I push the pain away and bring myself back to the present. Whatever Jenna wanted, whatever she was trying to tell me, it’ll have to wait until I finish this guy.
It takes me a moment to get my feet under me, but as soon as I’m there, I am all there. My hits fly fast, most nailing the target. I get a sweet cross in that knocks his head so far back, I know his nose will never look the same again. Blood streaks out around our feet as we go back and forth, hit after hit.
The first-round ends, but there are no winners here, and there ain’t no breaks to be had either. We both ignore the sound and continue to fight. With each jab and counter I get in, the more lightning I feel travel through me. I pick up speed while he loses it. I nail him into the corner at one point, but he manages to duck under me enough to free himself. He doesn’t know that they called me “pitbull” at military school. I don’t quit my attack.
The second bell rings, louder this time. Some of the non-Red Dukes stand and scream, demanding we take a break. Enrique slams a fist into my head before calling time.
His ring, his rules.
I walk over towards the side of the ring I deem as mine and look towards Jenna. She’s standing still, motioning somewhere with her head. What the fuck? The guy holding her arm looks irritated. Is she trying to get herself killed?
Just then, as I’m trying to get her to clarify, I hear the bell. It comes too soon. No way is that enough time. Jenna’s face goes white as she points behind me. Over the noise of the crowd rumbling to a fever pitch, she screams, “Rev!”
I turn around to see Enrique, knife in between his fists. It slashes at my side and digs itself into my hip. The pain knocks me off my feet and onto the ground. I listen to the sound of the crowd. Most are shouting Enrique’s name, either thinking he landed one great hit or support of that illegal chump move.
But whatever they think he did, one thing is true—I’m done.