Bear
Outside the small locker room, the people are going crazy. I hear them chanting, screaming, and calling out my name. I used to live for this shit. I used to peek outside those doors and watch as the fight girls with their big tits and tiny T-shirts talked excitedly about me. This was my scene. But tonight, I’d rather be a million damn miles away.
“You got your head in the game, man? You look like you’re sleeping on the job.” Jack tosses a towel at me that I barely catch in my taped-up hands. Who knows how long he’s been staring at me drifting off into space. I blink rapidly and then glare back. It’s none of his business what I look like.
“Another ten minutes,” Cliff says as he paces the floor. He stares down at his phone with his fingers rushing across the keyboard. “The presidents want to let the betting go on a little bit longer before the first match. They’re probably making a killing out of it. It looks like all the riders in the tri-county are here.” He stops at the door and opens it just enough to let the sound in. The roars send shivers up my spine.
“Who is fighting first?” I ask, not really caring about the answer. Truth is, I want these guys off my fucking back. I hate having a crew in my locker room. It distracts me from my pre-bout routine, and it forces me to talk when I’d rather sit here in silence and go through my plan of attack.
“You’re last. That’s for sure. After you knocked out that Filthy Bastards guy, you’re gold to the club… at least with fighting.” He doesn’t want to mention how I’m still being demoted in every other area. I haven’t gotten my original route back since I took my Sunny prize. It has been weeks since I spoke with Vance about it, but I have been making some progress. Just last week, he stopped assigning me back-to-back graveyard shifts with the young riders. My punishment is, from how it appears, coming to a close.
Jack, always the honest one, isn’t afraid to speak his mind on the subject. “Yeah. Get one more win for the Wilderkind against the Filthy Bastards fighter tonight, and you’ll be back up on top. No one’s gonna question your loyalty if you knock him out in the first round.”
“That’s not gonna happen,” I tell him, shaking my head. I’ve got confidence and the balls to back it up, but I’m also realistic. I haven’t trained in a month. The shifts and demotion have kept me from working out, and my mind has been everywhere else but the gym when I was able to get in a few hours at the weights and cardio machines.
“The guy’s a legit fighter,” I justify myself. “He’s not some fucking pansy they think is gonna be able to take a hit because he’s 250 pounds of muscle. They’re gonna be smarter about it this round.” I had time to do my research on the guy they are putting me up against. He’s not a huge name in the boxing circles. My old coach had zero clue who he was, but he eventually found his info from one of the smaller training circles. The guy took some classes and advanced pretty fast through the amateur rings. That was dangerous enough—young, stupid, and somewhat skilled. Those guys were the ones you couldn’t prepare for.
There’s a muffled knock at the door, and us three spin on our toes to see Vance and Killer before us. I have forgotten about this part. They all look a little green in their face as Vance takes a step forward. “You know how this goes, Bear. What do you want if you win?”
I don’t even hesitate. No way in hell am I getting in trouble like I did the last time. “Ten percent of the winnings from the bookies, top shelf alcohol, and a $500 prize.” I reach out my hand and practically grab Vance’s arm to seal the deal. Both of them nod coldly at me and then take a step backward. They each take turns eyeing me as they make their decision.
Finally, Killer comes back and says, “It’s done. Good luck out there. You’re gonna need it tonight.” He’s always a hard one to read, but tonight, I’m getting a strange vibe off of him. There’s no smugness; no arrogant bastard attitude that I’m used to from Vance. He is, instead, stone-faced and all business. He can barely look me in the eye as he shakes my hand. Something about it throws me off. What the hell is this guy up to that he can’t treat me like a fucking man?
“We’ll see,” I reply, a cocky smile plastered on my face. If this was his ploy to psych me out, it sure as shit isn’t going to work on me. I am too experienced for that mental mind fuck, and I’m too cold to let some sorry ass excuse for a club president get to me. I turn back to my crew with my fists pounding into one another, finally pumped up to get out of this dressing area and into the crowd. I could practically feel their vibrations through the ceiling and floor.
Jake stands next to me, his hand on my shoulder, as he whispers, “This is your time, Bear. You get this win, and you’re back on top. No one in their right fucking mind is gonna question who you are or where your loyalties are. You hear me?” I growl in response, and he continues, “Good! Get that damn fighting spirit going and do this for the Wilderkind!” All three of us shout together, howling towards the ceiling. The adrenaline has begun pumping through my veins, coursing up to my brain. I grab my towel and sweatshirt, and we’re out.
“Oh my God! Bear! Bear!” one of the women in the crowd shouts as we pass a line of club girls sitting at the top of the bleachers. “You can do it, Bear! Just think of what we have in store for you when you win!” I turn my head just in time to see the brown-haired biker bitch maven lean across one of the other women for a juicy, deep kiss. Her hands massage at her round and full boobs just slightly. I lick my lips in return. That’s some meat I could bite into.
I haven’t had a chance to satisfy my cravings since my time with Sunny. There have been a few offers—mainly from the opportunist girls who want to sleep with someone, anyone, that would possibly get them in with other, higher up, guys. They were the ones that were totally inexperienced, who said all the wrong things at all the wrong times. Amateur hour, really. What I want is a girl like the ones fawning over me. I want a girl who will let me push her hard up against a wall … a girl who will let me take her on the floor before a hotel bed with her tits bouncing up and down before me…
Fuck! No. I am not going to do this. I am not going to think about Sunny. I’ve spent the last damn month washing her out of my memory—erasing every trace of her from my system. I thought going on a sex fast was going to make it easier for me to crave someone else, anyone else. But it always seems to come back to her. Even as I am about to repeat the night I met her and then ruined my reputation, I am still hung up on her Barbie-blonde hair pinned up in a ponytail and the smell of her perfume against the inside of her wrist.
“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Jake calls towards me, “Let’s go get to our spots!” God knows how long I’ve been standing here nailed inside my own shoes. The entire row of people is staring up at me like I’m about to keel over or run away. Down by where the rest of the Wilderkind fighters and their men are waiting, there’s an empty set of chairs for us. They’re just getting colder.
I march past Jake, being sure to clip his shoulder on the way. I grab my phone and headphones out of the gym bag Cliff’s holding on to and turn on the only few songs I let myself listen to before fights. Hard, heavy guitars fill my ears and blasts over the rest of the makeshift arena. I can barely hear myself think, and tonight, that’s a good thing.
The first fight goes off quickly. It’s a quick KO for the Wilderkinds. The guy up there is one of my trainees. I’ve been working with him for a year now, teaching him the basics. He’s a little guy, but he gets the job done. It’s such a fast change for the second fight that they don’t even bother to wipe up the blood splatters covering the floor of the square, poorly built ring. As the next two get to their starting points, my music fades, and I hear the ping from a message. It’s an unknown number, but I expect that—probably someone wishing me luck or some dick from the Filthy Bastards trying to get to me.
I’m partially right. It is a Filthy Bastards member, but it’s not one of the boys sending me dick pics or taunting messages about my mom. It’s a girl named Kitty Kat. I’m familiar with her. She’s the number one girl over there—the second’s lady. It’s only a few words long, but it manages to send chills up my spine: Meet me at the dressing rooms. Now.
What the hell could Cobra’s girl want from me unless this had to do with Sunny? I scan the room quickly, allowing myself to do the one thing I had promised I wouldn’t. There’s no sign of Sunny even in the group of FBMC girls. I would be able to pick her out easily with that golden hair of hers, but she’s missing. If Kitty Kat wants to talk to me about her, I have a damn impossible choice to make.
I spin my head towards the dressing area I just came from. I can see Kitty waiting there, phone in hand. She leans casually against the door to the men’s room as she waits for me. I know I should say no or at least ignore the damn message. But I can’t stay away. I’m like a fucking moth to the light. There’s no way in hell I’m going to avoid her.
“I’ve gotta run to the bathroom!” I shout over the noise of the crowd. “I’ll be back for the third match!”
“You’re not gonna miss much, Bear. This guy is gonna get the shit kicked out of him.” I look up to the two men duking it out before me. Our guy can barely stand on his feet. I didn’t have much time if I was the fifth one to go. With my head ducked down, I sprint off towards Kitty Kat with some prayers that no one is watching me go off with another damn FBMC girl.
I don’t acknowledge her when I pass her by. I open the door to the makeshift locker room and dressing area so she can pass through without me. She lowers her long, tan neck to avoid smacking into my arm and then finds a seat on one of the metal folding chairs. She crosses her arms and her legs and looks off towards the tiled walls. “That was quick.”
“What the fuck do you want?” I spit back. I’ve got no time for sassy-mouthed bitches tonight—especially if being with them alone for even a minute could get me in a helluva lot of trouble.
“Oh, I just wanted to check in on you, Bear. See how you were doing. I don’t think I introduced myself the last time we were around one another. You were too busy with… uh, what’s her name?” She smiles wickedly, white teeth glaring like fangs.
“If this is about Sunny, I’m not interested.” I go to walk back towards the door, but she stands up and forces the chair to drag on the cement floor with a horrible squeal.
“It’s not about Sunny. It’s about me.” She smooths out the folds of her skin tight navy blue dress, the kind of dress you have to peel someone out of if you wanna get anywhere with them. “You see, with the Filthy Bastards, we have this thing that if one girl goes for another girl’s man, we get to make a little trade.”
She stops dead in front of me, a hand resting on my bare chest. Her slim, long body rests slightly against mine so that I can feel her thigh resting right underneath my junk and her tits brush against my stomach and abs.
“What the hell does that mean?” I ask.
“It means that Sunny is with my man now, so I get a taste of what she found so fascinating with you.”
“‘With your man?’” I repeat as I try to ignore her hand sliding down the line to the waistband of my shorts. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that Sunny’s been claimed by Cobra. He is—was—my man. And if she thinks she can go in and pull rank, she’s forgetting that I can do the same to her. So, I’m here to offer you some services.” She stands on her tippy toes and pulls her face towards mine. Her pearly teeth bite down on her puckered red bottom lip while her palm of her hand locks onto my cock.
Startled, I try to bat her away, pushing my face away from her. “What the fuck!” I growl. “Get the hell away from me. I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last fucking bitch on the planet.”
“You touched Sunny,” she coos. “I’m much, much more experienced than her.” She nibbles on my ear, and I can practically taste her breath on me. But with the information she’s given me, I can’t even focus on how she’s massaging my dick or that her mouth is nearing me. All I can see is Sunny, my Sunny, with her arms draped around Cobra’s thick, tattooed neck, and her thin legs wrapped around his waist and hips.
A fucking fire flames up in me—a fire I thought I had lost months ago. I grab Kitty Kat by the shoulders and spin her off and around me so that she falls on her ass on the concrete floor.
The funny thing is that she doesn’t look wounded or upset as I reject her. In fact, she looks completely delighted. She stands and reaches for the door. The crowd sounds have died down with the ending of a round.
It’s not until she starts yelling that I see her plan in action. “Help me! Get off me! I don’t want you like that, Bear!” It takes a moment for her yells to register with the Filthy Bastard boys sitting in rows before us, but after a few tries, they stand to their feet and look back to see Kitka—hair disheveled and dress barely clinging to her—put on a half-assed attempt to look as if I was holding her back from leaving the room.
“What the fuck is going on here?” one of them cries as they stand to their feet. A group of four or five of them march over towards us before I can even think of some fucking lie to get out of this mess.
“Oh my God! Hank!” Kitty Kat practically wails into his chest, “I was just coming to give this asshole a message, and he was… touching me, trying to make me go with him into the locker room!”
“Fucking hell I was!” I argued. “I don’t want anything to do with this dried out pussy!”
“What did you say about Kitty?” the largest guy shouts back as he stumbles towards me. “You wanna mess with her, you gotta go through me.”
“That’s fine, pal,” I say with my hands up. “I don’t want jack shit with her. Get her the fuck out of my dressing room. I’ve gotta match to win.”
The Filthy Bastard boys look around at one another before taking Kitty Kat by her arm and leading her out the room. From around the corner, I see her smile at me. That chick got exactly what she wanted.