Chapter 23
Whit and I landed in Denver yesterday and after grabbing a bite to eat at some snazzy restaurant, I took her back to the hotel room and christened the sheets.
She was slow to get up this morning not from just being fucked right, but from the late night hour we saw. I watched her peaceful slumber while I devised and formulated a plan and then woke her up around ten with a cup of coffee.
Simple shit like that makes her happy.
Most women would enjoy walking the streets, shopping, and sightseeing. Not Whitney. She adds her own special touch to these things. After she clambered out of bed, freshened up, and ate, she threw on her running gear and jogged around the city, taking in the different sights.
She babbled over the snow tipped mountains off in the distance, saying something about wanting to find a trail up there, ogled at the tall buildings, and paused several times in front of some of the store fronts. I’d like to tell you what she was looking at, but I was too busy watching her light the fuck up experiencing new things.
I inch my hand up the slit of her dress when she smacks it away. I chuckle, sliding it back to her knee…for now. I’ll try again later.
She’s breathtaking in a dress representing me—blue. It’s silky, slinking against her skin, dipping low between her tits with a slit up to her thigh.
“How can you think about sex when we’re on our way to a charity event?” She’s nervous for no reason. This is her territory.
I squeeze her knee. “I know what’s under that dress waiting for me.”
She exhales. “You’re insatiable.”
“I like what you have.”
She tucks her chin, but I can see the smile I just pulled out of her. She fucking loves I’m obsessed with her.
The limo pulls up to the front door with photographers and reporters sitting there like vultures.
I take a deep breath. I hate this part. I glance to her. “If it gets too intense, let me know. And don’t—”
She waves her hand dismissively. “You already went over what to expect. Quit worrying about me. You’re making me nervous.”
I clutch her hand and help her out of the car as bright flashes begin to flicker. Thing is, I never told her this is the first time I’ve brought a date. Normally, I rock these things alone only because there hasn’t been anyone I care to see pictured beside me and labeled as a date.
Reporters stretch over the red velvet rope with their recorders and microphones, all shouting different questions simultaneously. I tuck her into my side and wrap my arm around her waist, keeping my hand on her hip.
“Ryker! Who’s the woman?”
“Is it serious?”
“Are you ready for the Murphy fight?”
“Who will you be donating to?”
The reporters shout.
I can feel Whit’s body shaking, but the fear doesn’t manifest itself on the outside. Instead, her head is up, smile engraved on her face as she owns the steps she’s taking.
As we enter the room holding the event, I watch her begin to take it all in. Her eyes scan everything—ceiling, walls, tables, lights. She’s taking notes. Mentally, I laugh, knowing her work flows in her blood, following her everywhere.
Large round tables fill the area in front of the stage with curtains lit up with orange and blue. There are bars on each side with everyone standing and mingling amongst each other to our right.
I hate mingling.
I lead us to the closest bar and order her a prissy little drink and me a rum and coke.
I spot Brian and his wife, Melissa, heading toward us. He grins and slaps my shoulder while shaking my hand. “Fashionably late as usual,” he says.
I ignore it and tap his jaw. “What’s growing on your face?” I chuckle. “Melissa get tired of your ugly looks and force you to cover it up?”
“It’s sexy,” Melissa says.
I bend, kissing her on the cheek. “Beautiful as always,” I tell her and then bring Whitney front and center to introduce her.
Whitney blinks something envious out of her eyes and then shakes both their hands. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Brian looks between the both of us and then lands on me with concern soaking his face. “Listen. Before you stumble onto him, I need you to keep your cool.” That’s entreating. “Levi’s here.”
His name has my pulse jack hammering in my ears, and my blood surging with a wicked adrenaline rush.
“Oh really? And I’m sure you’re just finding this out?” I fire off with harsh sarcasm.
“Behave yourself,” he reproaches. “I knew if I told you there was a possibility of you not showing up.”
“You should know me better than that.”
He drops an eyebrow low. “I know you well enough. Murphy’s here too.”
I blow a breath. “I expected that. You always find pleasure in forcing me into the same room with my next fights.”
“Most fighters get along well,” he says condescendingly.
I laugh. “What do you want me to do? Have a fucking tea party? You know I don’t play well with others.”
Brian points, his eyes scolding me. “Ryker. I mean it. Behave tonight.” He pans to Whit. “Make sure he mingles.”
“I’ll do my best. It was nice meeting you.” she replies, but knowing her the way I do, it’s forced politeness.
Whitney waits for them to walk off before asking, “How the heck do you get away with talking to your manager like that?”
I take a swallow of my drink, hoping it’ll release the tension in my jaw. It doesn’t. “We’re each other’s pay checks. He needs me just as much as I need him. He’s been with me for a while. I’m sure by now he knows how I am.”
I haven’t spotted Levi while we make our way to different cliques of people to make my presence here known. Most of the people we speak with are here from different organizations and although I know to play nice with them, Whitney is my shining star, knowing exactly what to say and how to handle them.
I need a refill and at least twice the strength of the first drink. I excuse us from the group of men and start back to the bar. And that’s when I spot them—the MMAT’s finest ring girls ambling their asses in their flashy and classless dresses our way.
I hum, bending my head slightly to Whit. “Please remember this shit isn’t my style.” My warning barely has time to exit my mouth, when Allison, the biggest slut of them all, reaches us.
“If it isn’t the Striker,” she says seductively. “Long time no see.”
“Not nearly long enough,” I deadpan.
She doesn’t even flinch. “You know they scheduled Emily here for your fight with Nick. She’s new.”
“You’re hanging with the wrong people,” I inform the dirty blonde with round green eyes.
Her gaze scans over me and she bites the side of her lip, flipping her hair off her shoulder. “They told me you were pretty hot. They never said you were drop dead gorgeous.”
I almost roll my eyes, but instead smirk. “I retract my statement. You fit right in.” I glance back to Allison. “Is there no fresh meat around for you to bother? I hear your better half is here.”
She laughs her flirty, breathy, disgusting laugh and continues to ignore the woman my arm is wrapped around. “You used to love my company.”
This makes me laugh. “I’ve never enjoyed anything about you.”
“You’ve been waiting for me,” Emily states.
It jolts Whitney a bit. “I’m sorry. Do you not see me standing beside him?”
All the girls give her a once over. “We’ve all stood at his side a time or two,” Tanya, the bitchy redhead, says.
Whitney clears her throat. “Let me rephrase it. I’m the woman going home with him.”
Allison’s giggle is malicious and flaunts why she reigns high with the bitch sluts. “Usually the girls at his side do.”
“Have you?” I bite.
Allison’s eyes narrow, but she says nothing. That’s new. I didn’t know she had a mute button.
“Have any of you?” I add. “That’s why you’re all here single without a man at your side. Gold diggers don’t get perused. Not by anyone with intelligence, anyway.”
Huffs, puffs, and glares fill the space before me and they all storm away.
Thank fuck.
“Well, that worked,” Whitney giggles, squeezing my arm watching the pissed ring sluts leave.
I exhale my annoyance. “You better have thick skin with them. Some of them are known for creating nasty ruckuses.”
“Not a job I’d like to have.” She takes a small sip of her drink. “I know I’m going to regret this, but have you slept with any of them?”
“None of them or the rest of them. Never a ring girl. They get passed around. I’m not up for sloppy seconds.”
“Ryker!” Brian calls from a distance off to my right and waves me to join him.
Nick fucking Murphy stands beside him and Brian zeroes in on me with an ardent stare. “They want a few pictures of you two interacting. Play nice,” he adds.
Murphy looks more like a personal trainer you’d see at your local gym with a side job at a coal mine. He’s clearly fought in a few blood baths as scars from previous wounds litter his cheek and forehead. You’d think he’d protect his face better than that.
His unshaven, scruffy jaw shifts as his dark broody eyes narrow to me.
I plaster a fake smile. “Is this where we have a tea party?” I cut my view to Brian.
“Is that what little bitches like you do?” Murphy spouts off.
Rumors of him and Levi joining forces explode in my face as the cocky son of a bitch steps up beside Murphy with the biggest shit eating grin on his fucking face. “Tea parties? No, he prefers Barbies.”
I shoot Brian a warning glance as red flickers in my vision and black tugs at the corners. This isn’t going to end well. Not a fucking chance.
Paige stands quietly to the side in a pastel teal dress. Apprehension swirls in her shit-filled eyes.
“Still wasting your time with him?” I ask, homed in on her.
She rocks back on her heel, jamming her hand in her hip. “Not here, Ryker.”
“Glad my name still sounds good coming from your mouth.” I smirk.
“Ryker.” Brian tenses. He should’ve known better than this. He should’ve seen this coming. He knows how deeply I despise this little fucker.
Levi jerks her beside him, spreads his stance wide, and expands his chest like I should give a damn. “Still dreaming about my wife?”
I smirk in disbelief. “Far from it.” I tighten my grip on Whit’s waist.
Levi’s face lights up with laughter as it slides to Whitney. He grins at her, tilting his head with forged concern. “You shouldn’t be hanging with him. A piece of shit like him doesn’t deserve a spot on the bottom of your heels, sweetheart.”
“I get a hard-on when you talk about yourself like that,” I bite.
Levi nods to Murphy. “My boy here is going to fuck up your last chance at the pros.”
Smugly, I tip my chin to him. “You scared to be in the ring with me again?”
“I’ve proven my point with you.”
“From what I hear, you’re just a trained-up sparring partner. I look forward to an easy training day,” Nick chimes his bitch self in.
“Guys,” Brian tries again, but none of us pay him a damn ounce of attention.
There’s so much animosity in the air, so much hatred crackling between us, I can feel it in my bones and in each steady breath I take.
“I’ll see you again in the ring. You can bet on it,” I promise.
Levi chortles. “You’ll make an ugly ass ring girl.”
“At least I won’t be one you’ve slept with,” I deadpan.
It lights a fire in his eyes. His jaw ticks. I fucking love knowing I get under his skin.
He tips his head. “Does she know how vengeful you are? How malevolent and dirty you’re willing to stoop just for a weak advantage? I bet if she knew the boy you are, the pussyfooted little punk you are, she’d run away and find a real man.”
“Is that why Paige came running to me?” I smart off abrasively.
The fire I lit in Levi explodes and he lunges, connecting a right hook into my jaw. I counter with a left jab and reciprocate the right hook, landing it precisely against his cheek. It snaps his head to the side, but only briefly, and he wraps me up. I’m able to land a few shots into his ribs before we’re violently ripped apart and away from each other.
Two people are pulling me by each shoulder while Brian is in my face, pushing me backward, yelling something I can’t fucking hear.
Nick and Paige have Levi by the arms yanking him away from me.
“Fuck you!” Levi shouts. “I’ll fucking murder you in the ring. You want another shot? I’ll bring my ass back to your level just for another easy fucking win.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be in your motherfucking ring soon. Your lucky shots won’t win it next time,” I ground out so viciously it burns my throat.
“Lucky?” He rips his arms from Nick and straightens his blazer. “Ignorant bastard. I won that. The superior won.”
“Calm the fuck down,” Brian barks and I shove him to the side.
“You better prepare yourself for a motherfucking storm.”
Levi throws his hand up, dismissing the situation, grabs Paige’s hand, and shoves off in the opposite direction.
I catch Paige looking back over her shoulder at me and I scowl before shifting my glare to Brian.
“Get the fuck off me.” I rip my arms from the guys at my side.
“Save that shit for the ring,” Brian says shoving me for the last motherfucking time.
With both fists, I grab his collar and pull him to my face. “You should’ve known better,” I scathe. “That was fucking dirty and you fucking know it, you fucking dirty bastard.”
“Chill out, man.” He tucks his tail.
I drop him. “Put your hands on me again, and I’ll light your ass up.”
I spin around to grab Whit and get the hell out of here. Her hands are over her mouth, eyes huge with fear, standing several feet away from where I was about to murder Levi. I jerk her beside me and stride through the gawking crowd, out the front door.
She’s struggling to keep up with me, her heels clicking quickly as I storm through the parking lot full of limos, just begging for Levi to be here. I rip open the door and she slides in.
She sits away from me and doesn’t say a word as we make our way back to the hotel. The elevator ride is just as quiet. I’m invisible to her.
Immediately, pushing through the door of our hotel, she heads straight into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind her.
I’m still too pissed to care.
I shrug out of my black blazer and toss it on the couch. I’m fucking boiling with anger. Hostility prickles my skin. My knuckles are thirsting for his blood.
I don’t know how long it is when she finally reemerges from the bathroom, but just the sight of her—in lounge pants, one of my t-shirts swallowing her whole, and her hair in a messy ass bun—melts all the anger away.
I step to her and peer down. “I’m sorry…for that.”
My apology has no effect. She scowls “What the hell was that?”
“He and I have an ugly past.” I’m begging the will to keep my temper in check.
“An ugly past? That felt like much more than just an ugly past, Ryker.”
I start to say something, but she cuts me off.
“I might not know all the ins and outs of this sport, but I know what I saw. That didn’t start over hatred in the competition. That wasn’t a grudge between victory and defeat. Those shots were directed to his wife for the sake of a double-sided blow.”
I blink to her and puff a laugh. “She’s so fucking stupid.”
“Why? Because she married him? Or because she’s not with you.”
I snap my head to her, anger beginning to rise back into my chest.
“So all the ‘mine’s bigger than yours’ stems from fighting?” she asks.
I sigh, raking my hands over my face. “I told you we’ve never liked each other. He’s an arrogant shithead.”
Her laugh reminds me of something more corrupt, less of her. “You realize you have no room to talk? You made yourself look just as bad.”
“Don’t you compare me to him. He took the first hit,” I growl.
“You took the first low-blow by talking shit to his wife. What’s with her?”
I don’t answer her and walk back into the living room.
She’s on my heels. “Answer me, Ryker.”
I don’t. I’m not having this conversation.
“Does he have something you want?” Her tone is acidic. “Or are you that much of a bastard just like he said?”
Something inside of my chest snaps. My world rises in red while the black pulls into the corners. My pulse leaps to my temples and thunders in my ears. I stalk to her, rage vibrating my entire body, and bend, leveling my enraged glower on her. “He didn’t take the fucking pros from me. I gave it to him by pissing on his fucking territory. You want the truth?” I spit. “I am a dirty bastard pushing myself into her life after the dickhead cheated on her. She was vulnerable and I preyed on it. Except that shit fucking blew up in my face.”
She tries to back away, turning on her heel to leave, but I snatch her hand, jerking her back to face me. “You wanted to know so fucking badly. Stand here and listen to it.” I grit through my teeth. “I mended her heart, helped her through all the tough times, but I’m the fucking bad guy. I pissed caution in the wind.”
“Does he still have something you want?” Her voice shakes.
“Yeah. The fucking contract that should’ve been mine. The bout I should’ve won, but I was too far up my own ass. I gave him that fight. I fucking hurt myself,” I snarl, constricting my fists so tightly at my side, pain trickles into my fingertips.
She blinks to me, her eyes laced with concern and hurt. “She’s the one who broke your heart?”
Her voice is tender and it lifts the cloak of anger…slightly. Light flickers back in, forcing the blackness to dissipate. I glance to my tightly coiled fists, release them, and blink back to her. “No,” I say more even-tempered. “She’s the one who reminds me of how fucking pathetic I am and how dirty I can get.”
We exchange a stare—hers innocent and heartbreaking, mine defeated and pissed—before I walk away.
“I’ll be back.” It’s the last thing I say before slamming the door behind me.
I take the elevator to the top of the hotel and tear out of it before the doors finish sliding open. I pace, punching the air in front of me, fuming, wishing for something more solid to land my knuckles on. I drop into a black metal chair tucked off into the corner, rest my elbows on my knees and stare into the night sky. The air is crisp, the breeze is cold, and it’s doing nothing to calm me down.
I’ve never forgiven myself for what I did. I went against everything I stood for and got involved with someone else’s issues for my own benefits. Paige was off limits and I knew it. Instead of manning up, I stepped down. It started out as a way to rile Levi up, force him into submission. I chewed on the edge of her vulnerability…intentionally. I manipulated the situation. But then things took a turn when I started seeing who she was, little by little, and liked what I saw.
I’m trained to see things most don’t. It’s been ingrained into my memory, forced into my day-to-day living to see things happening before they do. I was baffled when I crossed the line with Paige. Stunned as I watched her run away from me. I never saw that shit coming. Never calculated the reaction. In the middle of trying to do vile things, I got so caught up in the mess, I smeared shit into my own eyes.
When I found out the pitiful bastard somehow weaseled himself back into her life, I jumped on the scum train and used it to my advantage. Or so I thought.
I stooped to a new low, to a person I’ve never been, and lashed out in the middle of a bout, trying to wound him emotionally. You can’t fight with emotions and I was going exploit his, stun, and dominate him. Instead, I felt my own self-worth shatter from my own distain. I fucked myself up.
And felt like a scummy dickheaded bastard.
Simmered down and collected, I quietly step back into the room. Her hair is fanned out behind her as she sleeps in the empty king-sized bed, arm thrown over a pillow where I should be.
She’s angelic.
I fucked up.
I slip out of my clothes and into the bed with her, gently kissing her arms.
“I’m sorry,” I say in between kissing her skin. “I’m so sorry, Whit.”
She stirs and grabs my cheeks, pulling my face to hers. “Is there something I need to be worried about?”
“No.” It’s the sober truth. “I’m sorry.” I drop my head.
There’s silence as she sits up and grabs my hand. “You’re not pathetic. You made a mistake. Everyone makes them. I hope you learned from it.”
I don’t reply. I learned more about myself than I care to admit.
“That man you were tonight…that wasn’t you. You painted yourself as some sort of colossal heartless asshole and you lost your focus. I’m the privileged one who sees you for you. I get the real you. But tonight, you lived off your scars. You fed the anger and hurt all the while failing to see you only injured yourself.”
Again, I don’t say anything, staring at the ruffled sheet, scared—yes, petrified—to look her in the eyes.
“I get it. You have to be Ryker the Striker for the sport, but the Striker can stay in the cage. He isn’t allowed to show up anywhere else.”
“It’s who I am, Whit,” I say.
“No. It’s who you portray.”
“It’s the name of the game.”
“I’m not playing a game, Ryker. The man I’m in love with and who loves me would never scare me like that.”
Her words deflate me. “I don’t deserve you.”
She raises my head and feathers a few kisses on my cheek. “You do. But I promise, if you ever do that to me again, it’ll be the last time you see me. I won’t stand for it.”
“I’d rather cut off my hands before hurting you.”
She kisses me tenderly and then leans back serious as hell. “You’re forgiven, but don’t you dare think about sex tonight.”
I blow a chuckle. “I’ll change your—”
“You won’t. You’ll go to bed and keep your dick to yourself.” She slides back down and pulls the covers up to her neck.
I shove my arm under her and pull her back into my chest, resting my head against her. “I hate dog houses.”
“Then keep yourself out of them.” She wins.