The address for the fight came in around three, a familiar location in Ironworks. I forward it to Rock and Z. I’m still not convinced the girls should come. Spoke to Whisper about it and he said his crew would have some of their ol’ ladies with them, which made me only a fraction more comfortable.
But Trinity’s enthusiasm went straight to my head. Like the conceited prick I am, I want her to see what I can do in the ring. She’s told me a bunch of times, in words and actions, how much she likes seeing me train. The cocky fucker inside of me wants her to see me unrestrained.
I want her to see me win.
Then afterward, we’re going someplace nice and quiet. Just the two of us. There are things I need to explain to her.
We spend the day watching YouTube videos, including a few that Jake and I already watched of the kid I’m fighting. I call up a few now and watch them, while Trinity sits on the floor painting her nails. It’s nice and domestic.
Well, as domestic as we get.
Every now and then, I reach out and run my fingers through her hair and she turns and smiles up at me. Each one of those smiles fuckin’ wrecks me.
As soon as I tell her I’ve got the address and we should get ready to go, her smiles turn anxious.
Sitting up on the couch, I grab her hands and pull her between my knees. “What did I tell you?”
“You’re not going to let him touch you?”
“Yeah. So wipe that worried look off your face, or I’m gonna get insulted.”
That makes her laugh softly and she runs her fingers over my cheek. “I don’t want anything to happen to this handsome face.”
My chest warms and tightens at the way she says that. “I promise you, I’ll keep my ugly mug intact.”
She leans over and kisses my forehead. It’s sweet, but it also puts her tits right in my face. I kiss the bit of cleavage she’s flashing, making her giggle.
“No boom-boom before the big fight, remember?”
“Yeah. I remember. Go get ready. Wear something comfortable, though.”
She cocks her head at me. “No, I was going to wear a crotch-shot skirt and hooker heels.”
Her description makes me laugh. Yeah, that’s not Trin’s style. Something else I like about her. She makes me work for everything—every smile, every peek.
She meets me at the door, looking cute as fuck in her LOKI tank top and jeans.
I motion her over to the bar and show her an ankle holster and the Glock G43 I had her test out yesterday.
“You want me to carry?” she asks.
“Yeah. Just in case. They’re gonna wand people coming in the front. They probably won’t check anyone coming in the back and the guys will be too busy staring at your tits to bother checking for an ankle holster.”
“Okay.”
Fuck, I love how much she trusts me.
Squatting down in front of her, I lift up her right pant leg and attach the ankle holster. “Should probably get you one of those belly band ones so you can carry at your six, but for tonight, this is good.”
“Okay,” she whispers, leaning on my shoulders for balance. She shivers and I glance up.
“You all right?”
“Yeah. You done?”
Snapping the Glock into place, I roll her pant leg back down and check for any printing.
“Shake your leg.”
She scowls, but complies.
“How does it feel?”
“Not bad.”
“Draw for me.”
Giving me an exasperated sigh, she bends over—shoving her tits in my face for the second time this hour—and whips the gun out pretty fast considering the rig is new to her. She tucks the gun away and quirks an eyebrow at me. “Satisfied?”
“Yes.” I stand and give her a peck on the cheek. “Thanks for humoring me.”
I toss her a sweatshirt and we get on the road.
Even though we have the okay to be in Ironworks, I’m fucking twitchy being in Viper territory. Trin seems to sense it, and squeezes her arms and legs around me tighter.
Circling the building, I find a hole in the fence that surrounds it and drive right through, parking my bike in the shadow of the old warehouse. Trin must still be nervous. She doesn’t hesitate when I take her hand and lead her inside.
I was right about the security. No one even blinks in our direction when we enter the back room. Makes me even happier Trinity’s carrying.
We don’t get anything fancy like a room. It’s just a big open area. Fighters have staked out random spots. Most have their girlfriends as well as some sort of entourage with them. Well aware of my anti-social tendencies, Jake and Whisper are waiting for me in the back corner away from everyone else.
Jake lifts his chin at us. “Hey, Trinity. Ready to see your man kick some ass?”
She seems startled. I’m guessing because of the your man comment. But then she laughs. “Yup.”
With no small amount of pleasure, I notice she’s still holding my hand.
Whisper also notices, but remains quiet. That is, after all, how he got his nickname. He nods and gives me a fist bump.
This operation doesn’t bother with bullshit like ring girls running around in their underwear flashing signs at the crowd. No, these fights are purely about money and violence. Vipers have a crew here overseeing things. Wolf Knights have guys besides Whisper here as well. 18th Street and Green Street Crew have some of their punks around. A lot of enemies hanging out in one spot, holding a truce in the name of some quick cash. Most of the spectators have no gang affiliations or club ties. Just degenerate gamblers we’ll all make some money off.
Rock and the others should be here soon. I check my phone and see Rock sent me a text when they left—about ten minutes ago. Should take them another twenty to get here and probably fifteen more to make their way inside.
I’ve never gotten involved in the gossipy shit that goes on in the back room before a fight. Yes, men—hardened criminals—can gossip more than the mouthiest woman. Half the time the lies and bullshit start up needless trouble in already precarious relationships.
We end up standing around talking about nothing in particular. Trinity melts into my side and I like how natural she feels in my arms. You’d think I’d be anxious about the fight that’s coming up. But in my head, it’s something I need to get through so I can have my conversation with Trinity. I can’t wait to lay it all out for her.
She’s mine. I’m hers. No more fucking nonsense.
Wrath keeps checking his phone. The backstage area continues to fill up with people. Considering there are only six fighters going in the ring tonight, there seems to be an awful lot of activity back here.
“You should have had more of the guys come with us,” I say when he finally glances up from his phone.
His forehead wrinkles. “Why?”
I nod at Jake and Whisper. “We’re not much of an entourage.”
“Oh.” He laughs, deep and hearty. “Don’t give a fuck about that, babe. Teller or Z usually stay back here with me too.”
Wrath glances around the room and scowls, then checks his phone again. His face softens for a second in relief. “Good. They’re here.” He pushes away from the wall and pulls me over to the open entrance. The cavernous room where the fight ring is set up is packed tight.
“Wait, I want to stay back here with you.”
His face locks down cold and hard. “Absolutely not.”
“Wrath—”
“No. As much as I trust Jake and Whisper, I want you with Kings. I need to focus, get myself centered, and I can’t do that if I’m distracted by you.”
My eyes sting and he seems to notice, because his hand curls over my shoulder and he uses a gentler tone. “I can’t keep you safe and concentrate on the fight. Remember, I promised you I wouldn’t get hurt?”
“Oh.” Glancing at the guys assembled back here, I understand his concern. He’s right. I like Jake and Whisper fine, but I trust Rock and Z with my life. I open my mouth to apologize, but Wrath nudges my shoulder.
“There’s Z. Let me watch you walk out.”
I want to give him a good luck kiss, or something, but he pushes me out into the crowd.
Z and the others are easy enough to spot and I squeeze my way through the wall of people. Every inch of me is trembling in fear by the time I reach Z, who pulls me against him and walks me the rest of the way to our group.
Hope breaks out of Rock’s iron grip and wraps her arms around me. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” she gushes.
I can only imagine what’s going through her head, and my lips twitch in amusement.
“How’s our boy?” Z asks.
My shoulder still burns from where he shoved me into the crowd. “Cold as ice.”
Rock tugs me to his side and puts his arm around my shoulders. Secure against him, I’m able to let my guard down a smidge.
“He’ll be fine. He’s always like that before a fight. That’s why we’re out here,” Rock explains. I know he’s trying to cheer me up and I appreciate the effort.
Glued to Rock’s other side, Hope peers over at me and raises an eyebrow.
Teller interrupts by butting into the group, waving our betting slips at us. He hands them out and we tuck them away.
It suddenly seems to dawn on Hope what’s going on. “Why would anyone bet against Wrath? He’s the scariest guy I’ve ever met.”
Everyone laughs. If I wasn’t so worried about Wrath backstage, I’d probably laugh too. I make a mental note to tell Wrath Hope finds him terrifying. He’ll think it’s the funniest thing ever.
The guys keep us protected as we walk to the bleachers and stake out our seats.
Z moves so I can sit next to Hope, but my mind is elsewhere. Wrath didn’t think I was paying attention while he watched videos of Irish’s old fights. But I saw what the guy is capable of and it starts to sink in how scared I am that Wrath will get hurt. I want to jump up, run to the back and drag him the hell out of here.
“You okay?” Hope asks, breaking into my freak-out.
“Yeah, just nervous.” She squeezes my hand and I end up clinging to her, which is so fucking weird, I don’t know what to think.
At some point, Z leans over me to talk to Hope. “Unlike most of these guys, Wrath has no interest in getting an MMA deal or something. He just enjoys unleashing his fury on people,” he explains. Hope’s jaw drops a fraction and my stomach rolls.
The lights blink and the noise drops to a hushed roar. I barely hear the announcer or register when the first fight starts or ends. I keep glancing through the open doorway to the back room hoping to catch a glimpse of Wrath.
The second fight is also a blur.
The quick blast of an air horn silences the crowd.
“Five minutes ‘til the blood bath you’ve all been waiting for. Get those bets placed now. Windows close when the opponents reach the ring.”
Oh dear God, I’m going to be sick. I can’t stand this. Why the fuck did I ever want to come to one of Wrath’s fights? This is torture.
Hope’s hand tightens around mine.
Blood thunders through my ears when the horn goes off again. I don’t even hear the introduction given to Irish. I do look up in time to watch him bouncing up and down in the ring, scanning the crowd like he’s curious who all stopped by to see him get his ass whooped.
He’s plenty big, but I’m a little less scared seeing him in the flesh. Wrath’s got this.
“Our next fighter scares the shit out of even me. Undefeated in the underground, he doesn’t come out of hibernation often, but when he does, it’s scary as fuck! Hope you were careful placing your bets because they say the last thing to grow old in a man is Wrath!”
It’s a cheesy introduction, and I gotta imagine Wrath’s pissed about it. The crowd loves it though. The room detonates into cheers and shouts.
One of his favorite songs is used as his intro music and it makes me chuckle.
Another laugh spills out of me when Wrath strolls into the room as if it’s no big deal. At some point he stripped down to the shiny athletic shorts he favors for working out.
As he turns in our direction, my mouth twitches into a smile and I’m about to raise my hand to wave, when Z leans up against me.
“How fast you think he’s gonna take that fucker out?” he whispers in my ear just loud enough for me to hear him over the crowd.
I catch the dark look that crosses Wrath’s face as he watches us, and I want to clock Z for being such a dick.
Rock notices it too and leans over to scold him. “Knock it off, Zero.”
“What? Just making sure—”
“You’re wrong,” I spit out. Wrath will win all on his own. He doesn’t need Z to stir up any jealousy.
Z’s not finished. “Yeah, that why you been up in his bed every night for the last two weeks? I don’t remember you ever spending an entire night with me.”
What the fuck? I grind my teeth so I don’t end up punching him. “Shut. Up.” The thought of Hope overhearing that warms my cheeks with shame.
“Don’t break his concentration, Z,” Hope snaps at him. The fact that she’s worried about Wrath—even though he’s been so mean to her—makes me like her even more. Wrath’s wrong about her. She’ll be an asset to the club—eventually.
Z chuckles and sits back. I jam my elbow in his ribs and he laughs even harder.
The bell goes off and my stomach drops. I can’t stand to watch, but I can’t look away. My body flinches with every punch Irish throws at Wrath, even though each one misses.
Wrath fucks around with the kid for a while. Tiring him out. Irish moves to throw a right hook, but drops his other hand. That small opening is what Wrath seizes on to go after Irish for real. His fists fly in a brutal flash that my eyes can’t keep track of.
Around us is total chaos as the crowd rushes the ring. Our view is blocked and I can’t get up on the bleachers fast enough. Air rushes out of my lungs when I finally see Wrath again. He’s beating Irish to a pulp and this time I flinch for different reasons.
I understand what a sergeant-at-arms does. Enforces rules. Protects the club—with force when necessary. I also know Wrath’s capacity for violence. It’s still terrifying to see him in brutal action.
He goes in for the kill, smashing his knee into Irish’s face. There’s blood everywhere and I’m thankful I didn’t eat dinner before we left or I’d be barfing it up by now.
Next to me, Hope starts screaming. Rock pulls her off the bleachers and calms her down quick.
Wrath’s declared the winner. Duh, poor Irish is barely able to roll around on the floor. His crew throws Wrath a dark look as he takes his victory lap around the ring and they drag Irish to the back.
The audience rushes to the betting windows. Teller takes our slips and runs off with Murphy to get our winnings.
Z and Rock have managed to wedge Hope and me between them, keeping us protected from the jostling crowd.
“Prez, we gotta get out of here,” Z warns.
No, no, no. We can’t leave without Wrath. He promised me he’d find us immediately after the fight. I plant my feet ready to fight if Z tries to make me move. Hope peeks around Rock and bounces up on her toes, making me look in the direction she’s looking.
There’s Wrath. Half-dressed and moving fast. Wriggling out of Z’s hold, I fly into Wrath’s arms.
“Whoa, I’m fine.” He wraps me up in his arms and I sob against his chest. I can’t get a single word out. He kisses the top of my head, right there in front of everyone and I claw at his shirt so he doesn’t let me go.
“Wrath, we gotta go,” Z urges.
Wrath squeezes me tighter, before releasing me for a second to slip a fitted knit hat on. Then he wraps me in his arms again and we all march to the side exit.
We regroup outside and I can finally breathe. We’re going to make it out of this.
Teller and Murphy smile when they see us and give Wrath a quick nod and fist bump. Wrath’s big, warm hand envelops mine.
“I’m in a spot around the back,” he informs Rock.
Rock turns his head in that direction and then the opposite way. “Fuck. We’re in the lot over.”
Wrath shrugs. “We’ll meet up at the gas station at the bottom of the hill.”
The guys agree on that plan and we go our separate ways.
Get me the fuck out of here.
Trinity’s so quiet. Once the guys take off, we head toward where I parked the bike. When we clear the building and my bike is in sight, I stop and tug her over to the shadows against the brick wall.
I place a hand on either side of her face. “Are you okay?”
Her eyes dart around, wild and unsure. “What are you doing? We have to meet up with them.”
“It’s going to take them a minute to get through the parking lot. I want to make sure you’re all right.”
She glances up at me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I told you he wouldn’t get a shot in.”
She takes a deep breath, then chuckles low and soft. “You’re nuts.”
Something about her laugh unhinges me. To get her here, I told her I’d want to fuck her after the fight. I was lying at the time, but all of a sudden I can’t stop myself. We need to get the fuck out of here. A bad feeling about the way people were reacting inside followed me out the door.
But I want her so fucking bad, right now. Rationally, I know it’s left over adrenaline coursing through me. The fight hadn’t lasted nearly long enough.
Tipping her chin up, I slam my mouth over hers. I back her up against the wall, my hands fumble with her jeans.
“Baby, next time please wear a skirt.”
She lets out a moan/giggle sound that drives me insane. I keep her pinned to the wall and manage to get one sneaker and one pant leg off her, while she frees my aching cock and rolls a condom down my dick. We’re in perfect sync, which is good because this is going to be straight up, hard and fast fucking.
“Trin,” I grind out against her mouth. “Tell me you’re ready, I don’t want to hurt you.” Never again. I don’t want to ever hurt her again.
She wraps her legs around me tighter. “I’m ready.”
I grip her ass, yanking her toward me while at the same time thrusting into her nice and slow. “Watchin’ me fight turn you on, Angel Face?” I breathe into her ear, as I pick up the pace.
She shakes her head and a tear rolls down her cheek, halting my frantic thrusts.
“I was so scared,” she whispers, clinging to me tighter.
For the first time in my life, I regret a fight. I hate that I rattled her so bad. “I’m okay, baby.”
She nods and kisses me. “Fuck me, please,” she whispers against my lips.
Jesus Christ. “Hang on to me.” Using the wall for leverage, I slip one hand off her ass to play with her clit. I need her to come if it fucking kills me. In the dark, I can’t see her very well, but our mouths meet. We kiss slow and deep, reconnecting and reassuring each other. Time stands still as I keep grinding into her until she blows. Fucking hell, she clenches down on my dick so hard, it sends me over the edge right along with her.
“That’s it. Good girl. Come hard for me, angel.” I gasp as she keeps squeezing the fuck out of my cock.
She babbles uncontrollably—the way she does when she’s far gone. As soon as she opens her eyes, I kiss her lips, then set her down. I right myself and help her hop into her pants.
At the bike, I slip a hoodie over her head and get her helmet on. She’s quiet but there’s a soft smile curving her mouth now. Taking another second we don’t have, I run the back of my bruised and aching hand over her cheek. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her how much I fucking love her.
“Thank you,” I say instead.
Her lashes flutter when she kisses my hand. “Let’s go.”
Yeah, here isn’t the place to have our talk. It needs to be special and I know just where I want to take her.
Even with our outside quickie, we make it to the gas station before Rock and the others. Wrath passes two SUVs at the pumps, and tucks us into a spot near the exit. He doesn’t bother shutting off the bike.
He shouts to me over the rumbling exhaust, “Wanna head to the park?”
“Don’t you want to enjoy your victory party?”
“No. We need to talk.”
We do? About what?
I don’t get to ask, because the roar of our guys approaching drowns out everything. Wrath pulls out ahead of them and leads us out of Ironworks.
Sweet relief sweeps through me when we finally cross into Empire County. Wrath takes us through the winding, country roads and the left over tension from the fight ebbs away.
Teller and Murphy are suddenly on either side of us. Just seeing that they’ve broken formation is enough to make me tense right back up.
“The fuck?” Wrath shouts.
For a brief second my gaze collides with Teller’s and he shakes his head.
The revving of an engine behind us, makes me turn around. There’s an SUV bearing down on Z. Rock’s only slightly ahead.
Fuck.
Z swerves to the side and lets the SUV pass, but it keeps pressing Rock and Hope to the edge of the road.
“Hold on,” Wrath shouts.
The SUV bears down on us. My heart jumps, terrified something happened to Rock.
Something definitely taps our rear tire and we swerve, but Wrath keeps us upright. A scream tears out of me.
“Fuck!”
Glancing down is terrifying. Light glints off the giant SUV bumper bearing down on us. I almost want to reach out and push it away. But at the last second I pull back, knowing that’s a good way to lose a hand.
It taps us again, pushing us to the side. The bike jerks to the right. The rear end slides out and I brace for contact with the pavement. Then we’re flying through the air and bouncing down the slight hill. I hold my breath as my stomach flips. My arms cling to Wrath as long as possible, but we’re thrown from the bike. There’s a horrible crunch and snap of metal.
I’m blinking up at the black sky. It’s pretty and I wonder if I’ve fallen asleep outside the clubhouse.
Shots echo in the air and I guess the guys are at the gun range? But that doesn’t make any sense because it’s dark.
I blink and sit up. The throbbing in my head explodes and I sit there dazed taking in my surroundings.
Ahead of me, I hear Wrath groan.
Okay. Not at the clubhouse.
Woods.
“Trin?”
“I’m here.”
I can’t stand yet. Nothing’s broken, but my knees have turned to jelly. I turn and crawl over the cold, wet ground.
A short, startled scream tears out of me when I find Wrath and scramble to his side.
“Wyatt?”
He groans.
More shots echo through the night.
“Don’t move.”
Reaching down, I yank the Glock from my ankle holster. Miraculously it stayed put.
“Wrath?” I hate leaving him unprotected, but he’s not conscious enough to take the gun.
I get my legs under me and stagger forward.
Ahead there’s rustling. I almost sob with relief when I hear Rock’s voice. Tears roll over my cheeks when I finally see him.
“Where is he, Trinny?”
My hand jerks behind me. “He’s not moving, Rock. It’s bad.”
More gunfire above us. “Stay low,” Rock whispers.
Wrath’s groaning when we get to his side and I’m so relieved, I burst into tears.
“Stay quiet, man,” Rock says, as he puts a hand on Wrath’s chest. He turns and eyes Hope. “Hope, what did you do with the gun?”
“It’s in my pocket.”
His jaw tightens. “Give it to Trinity.”
Before I can open my mouth and say I already have one, Hope’s shoving the weapon in my hands. On autopilot, I rack a bullet into the chamber.
“Stay with him,” Rock says to both of us.
I glance down at Wrath once more. The best thing I can do right now is keep him safe.
What the ever-loving fuck? Loud groaning is coming from somewhere nearby. My head throbs. My leg’s on goddamn fire. I’m cold. I’m wet. Everything hurts.
The person groaning in pain is me.
Someone squeezes my hand, further bringing me awake.
“Shh, honey, it’s okay.”
Hope?
“My leg.”
Something brushes over my face. In the background I hear gunfire and panic tightens my chest.
“Trin!?”
“Right here, Wyatt,” she answers.
Thank God.
I need to get to her, but I can’t seem to make any of my body parts work. Something presses against my chest keeping me down. I almost laugh when I realize it’s Hope.
“Wrath, don’t. You could have something broken. Plus, there are still guys shooting at us,” she says in a rush.
Fuck. “Prez?”
“He’s okay.”
Christ, I’m doin’ a shit job protecting my president and my girl.
I blink and Hope’s anxious face fills my vision. Her hand’s wrapped around mine and I squeeze it tighter. “It’s gonna be okay, Hope.”
She bites her bottom lip and nods, then meets my eyes.
“This is why I been tryin’ to push you away, Cinderella. So you don’t get hurt.”
She tears up. “Wrath,” she sighs.
I can’t keep my eyes open any longer, but I hang onto her hand. Vaguely, I’m aware of her running her hands over me. Checking for injuries, I guess—seems like an inappropriate time for her to cop a feel.
She touches my leg and I suck down a scream.
“I think it’s broken,” she chokes out.
“No shit.”
Her hand touches whatever stings on my head.
“Ow, fuck. Watch it.”
“Sorry,” she whispers.
I grab her other hand to keep her from poking at any more injuries.
“I don’t know what to do,” she sobs and I feel fucking horrible for putting her in danger.
“Just keep holding my hand. My leg really fucking hurts.”
“Okay,” she answers, so soft I almost don’t hear her.
I must black out again. I’m aware that I’m freezing. Something covers my chest. Hope’s hands rub over me. Fucking girl has to be terrified, but she hasn’t left my side.
Someone else presses against me.
“Honey, you’re shivering.” I recognize Rock’s voice. I try to ask him if he’s whole and find out what happened, but I can’t force any words out.
“Afraid he’s going into shock. He needs an ambulance bad,” Hope says.
“A driver stopped. He’s calling 911. That’s what finally chased those fuckers off.”
“His leg, Rock. And his head.”
Someone shines a light over my face and pain stabs my eyes.
“Get that outta my face,” I mumble.
“Well, his personality is fine,” Z jokes. Z. Fuck, I’m thankful he’s okay.
“Fuck off,” I grumble. He laughs. Fucker.
Sirens. Thank fuck.
I don’t have to open my eyes to know my girl’s on my other side. “You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Thank God. The temperature must be dropping, ‘cause I’m fuckin’ freezing.
So fucking cold.