Chapter Eleven
Fallon blinked several times to get her eyes accustomed to the dimness inside the club. Scanning the room, she recognized a few faces from the fighting events. Everyone stared at her, and she wanted to disappear in Diablo’s cut. Why did I agree to this? Panic grabbed her nerves with its icy fingers as she walked toward the bar, her hand still in his. In her mind, each step sounded like a wooden block slamming down on the floor in an offbeat rhythm. Even though she stared straight ahead, she could feel all eyes on her.
“You want a ginger ale or something stronger?” Diablo asked as he lifted her and plopped her on the barstool.
“Whiskey and Coke.” She turned away from the people and stared at the wall behind the bar.
“Hey, dude, what’ve you been up to? Shotgun said you cut out early today,” one of the brothers said as he placed his elbow on the bar.
From the corner of her eye, she saw that he was looking at her. Her heart pounded.
“Yeah. I finished my work and had something to do.”
“I can see that.” Fallon turned to him and he smiled, staring at her chest. “I’m Army.” He lifted a shot glass and threw its contents back.
“I’m Fallon.” Turning away quickly, she knocked over her glass. “Damnit!” Before she could grab her napkin, the guy behind the bar wiped up the spill. “Thanks,” she muttered.
“I’ve seen you before. I know I have.” Army picked up his second shot glass.
“Lay off, will you?” Diablo’s stern tone made her turn around.
“What the fuck’s your problem? I was just saying that I’ve seen her before.” Army straightened up.
She placed her hand on Diablo’s arm. “It’s okay, Diablo. You’ve seen me at the warehouse when you came to see the fights. Charlie’s my dad.”
Army snapped his fingers. “That’s it. Who the fuck’s Charlie?”
“Bloody Knuckles,” Diablo said.
Army stared at her again, his gaze lingering on her chest. “I’ll be damned. You don’t look a thing like him, but that’s good.”
She chuckled. “I hate the nickname, Bloody Knuckles.”
“Who’s your lady?” another guy who’d come over asked.
Diablo groaned and looked around the room. “Are you all gonna be creeping over here asking me who the hell this pretty woman is?” He looped his arm around her waist.
Some of the men nodded while others yelled out “Fuck yeah.” The women who wore clothes similar to the ones the ring girls wore stared at her, and she flicked her eyes away from them.
“Then fucking listen up ’cause I’m only gonna say this once. This is Fallon. Her dad is the promoter who puts on the fights in Tula.” All eyes were on her, and she cast her gaze downward as she leaned closer to Diablo.
“Hi, Fallon.” A man next to her smiled. Some of the other brothers started to come over.
Diablo gently raised her chin up with his fingers, locking his gaze with hers. “And these are my brothers.” He named each one of them, but she noticed that the only people in the room he didn’t name were the five women sitting on some of the men’s laps. “No more questions or fuckin’ comments or I’m gonna bust some balls.” He turned his attention to her. “You wanna hang down here or go upstairs?”
“I’d like to go upstairs.” In one movement, she was off the barstool, traipsing behind him as he guided her to his room.
The room in the middle of the long hallway was his. When she entered it, a beautiful vista of the mountains greeted her, as did a large bed that took up a good portion of the room. She glanced around and saw a nightstand, recliner, and tall dresser with a TV on top. The walls were ivory and bare except for a few hooks that held a couple pairs of jeans and some T-shirts. A cool wind blew in from the open windows.
“I like it.” She crossed her arms and stood near the door.
“Make yourself comfortable.” He gestured her to come over to the recliner. She smiled as she went over and sat in it. He sank down on the bed and leaned against the headboard.
Silence fell over them. I’m going to tell him I’ve decided to go home. I don’t think I can do this. But the thought of facing her dad and Shanna made her nauseous, so she just sat there, pulling at a hangnail. I wonder if he wants me to have sex with him. It wouldn’t be so bad. At least he’s good-looking. Not at all like the others.
Her mind drifted back to the times when her dad had brought some men to her and told her to treat them right. She’d known what he’d meant, so she’d spread her legs and let them do what they wanted. In a perverse way, it made her feel pretty and wanted, but she’d felt like shit after the act was over and they left without even a goodbye. After the fourth time, she’d decided she wasn’t going to do it anymore. So when her dad had asked her to do it again, she’d refused, not even caring how mad he’d become. After that, he never asked her again.
“What’re you thinking about? You don’t look too happy.” Diablo’s deep voice startled her.
“Oh… uh… I was just thinking about the fight I had at home this morning. Who were the women downstairs? Are they some of your friends’ girlfriends?”
He quirked his lips and looked fixedly at her for several seconds before replying. “They belong to the club… to all the brothers. They wear the club’s patch.”
“Belong? What does that mean?”
He blew out. “You gotta be part of my world to get this. A lot of citizen women get super pissed about the club girls. They either hate them ’cause they’re available to pleasure us whenever we want, or they fuckin’ hate us and think we’re barbaric in our treatment of them. I’m not sure which way you’re gonna go on this.”
“Why don’t you just tell me about them and I’ll let you know what I think. Are they like the ring girls? They dress like them.”
“Sorta, except the club takes care of them. They live here and have our protection. We give them a monthly stipend. It helps them pay their bills and buy shit. If they need more, Steel, Paco, and Sangre decide whether it’s justified.”
“Why those guys and not all of you?”
“Steel’s our prez, Paco the VP, and Sangre’s the treasurer.”
“Do the women work?”
“Only inside the club. They clean and help our cook, Lena, with the food. The important thing is that it’s the club women’s choice to live this lifestyle. No one’s forced.”
She sat still as what he said sank in. “They’re sorta like the ring girls but then they aren’t. The ring girls live at the warehouse, but I doubt my dad would protect any of them. They turn tricks, but my dad gets twenty percent. It’s up to the woman if she wants to do it or not. Sylvia doesn’t, but Emerald, Heidi, Pippa, and Cassie are totally into it. They don’t screw the fighters unless they pay. So I guess it is different in a way, but you giving them money each month is really like paying for sex. I don’t know….”
“We don’t see it that way. We’re just helping them out because we have the money. In most clubs, the women have jobs, or they’re put to work at the strip bars and other businesses a club owns. We don’t do that. The lifestyle’s different, and the mindset.”
“I guess. Do you have any favorites among them?”
“I don’t go with any of them that often. You want something to drink?”
“No, thanks. You didn’t answer my question.”
“I don’t wanna talk about them with you. They’re a nice bunch of women—some nicer than others—and that’s it. Nothing more to say about it. You wanna watch a movie? I bet you’re hungry. Lena makes kickass burritos. I’ll ask her to make us a couple.” His face was earnest and his brown eyes were hopeful. Her insides fluttered with excitement and tenderness for him.
“I love burritos. I’m pretty open to most movies, but I hate the super-sappy love stories. I’m gonna bet you’re not in to them either.” She laughed.
“You’d be right. I can ask one of the women if they have something for you to sleep in that won’t make me wild.” He raised his eyebrows.
“Tell them a long T-shirt would be fine.”
He chuckled. “I don’t think they have that, but you could wear one of mine. I know it’d be long on you.” He opened his dresser, took out a gray undershirt, and handed it to her. “I’ll be back with the food in about twenty minutes or so. Lock the door.” Then he was gone.
Bringing the shirt to her face, she breathed in deeply, loving the way his clean scent invaded her nostrils. She slipped off her jeans and top and tugged the T-shirt over her head. It fell just above her knees and felt soft against her skin.
After folding her clothes, she went over to the window and looked at the darkening sky. Excitement curled around her; this was the first time she’d ever been on her own. She was usually at home or the warehouse, but that night she was a free agent, and she loved it. Her phone kept flashing and she knew it was her dad trying to get a hold of her, but she ignored all the beeps and turned it off. For just one night, I want to live in the moment. She continued watching the encroaching ebony sky swallowing up the fading pink, orange, and purple streaks.
When the door clicked, she spun around, fear attacking her nerves. What if it’s Dad? Her mind told her that was ridiculous, but her body responded as it had for years, telling her to hide so she wouldn’t get a beating. Clamminess coated her pebbled skin, and when she saw Diablo come in holding an aluminum tin, threads of steam above it, she almost cried.
“You okay?”
She nodded. I’m acting like an idiot. Why do I let Dad get to me all the time? He isn’t even fucking here. “It smells delicious. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until now.”
“Lena made enchiladas and tostadas too. I hope you like Mexican food.” He placed the tin on the nightstand and took out two folding trays from his closet.
“I love Mexican food, especially enchiladas. Do you want me to help with something?”
“I’m good. The prospect’s coming up with some beer, whiskey, ginger ale, Coke, and water. That should cover it.” He threw her a warm smile.
Without thinking, she went over to him and hugged him tightly. His arms immediately hooked around her as he hugged her back.
“You smell real good, woman,” he said thickly, then kissed the top of her head. “Your hair’s so soft. You’re making me feel all kinds of good shit.”
A knock on the door brought her to her senses and she pulled away. “I just wanted to say thanks for being so good to me.” With small steps, she walked back to the recliner as he padded to the door to get the drinks.
A few hours later, her eyelids drooped as the credits came up for the movie they’d watched. Yawning, she stretched, then pulled the soft blanket under her chin.
“I’ll be going,” Diablo said, standing up.
“Do you have to?” she asked softly.
When he didn’t answer, she rolled on her back and sat up, the blanket falling down to her waist. She pulled in her knees and gazed at him, her stomach fluttering when she saw his heated look. “Do you want to have sex with me?” He took a few steps toward her and she sucked in her breath.
“Why’re you asking me?” His voice was low with a sharp edge to it.
She shrugged. “I figured you did since you asked me to spend the night in your room. Men like that, and you’ve been paying a lot of attention to me.”
“I’m not gonna lie and say that I don’t wanna fuck you, but I like it when the woman wants it too.”
“Maybe I do,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “I think you’re talking yourself into wanting it. I want you when you’re quivering and dripping with desire, not when you feel obligated because we had a nice day together.”
“Oh.” She hung her head down.
Diablo sat next to her and cupped her chin, pushing her head up gently. “I’ve been fighting the urge to slam my cock inside you the whole time we’ve been together. I like you… a lot, and I don’t say that shit to women. So don’t think I don’t desire you.”
“All the guys I’ve known would already have me pinned down. You’re different, and I like that.” She raised her eyes and caught his gaze, smiling when she saw tenderness and lust reflected in it.
“I’m glad I’m different. You’re not like any woman I’ve met.”
She leaned in and brushed her lips against his. “Thanks for caring and being patient with me,” she said against his mouth.
“I’m a very patient man when I think something’s worth it. And you, sweet pea, are definitely worth it.” He stroked her cheek, then stood up.
“I don’t want to be alone. Can you stay with me?”
Breathing out, he wiped his hands on his jean-clad thighs. “There’s no way I can stay in the same bed with you without fucking you, but I can sleep in the recliner.”
Shaking her head, she said, “No, I’ll sleep in the recliner. You take the bed.”
As soon as she said it, she knew he’d never do that, so she slipped down under the blanket, covering her shoulders with it. His boots thudded against the floor as he kicked them off before settling into the recliner, pushing it back as far as it would go. He leaned over and switched off the floor lamp, flooding the room in darkness.
“Good night, Diablo,” she said.
“’Night.”
In a few minutes, she took comfort in his deep breathing that filled the room. Shards of moonlight seeped in through the slats in the blinds, casting an almost angelic glow on him.
I can’t believe he didn’t fuck me. He’s a good man. The first one I’ve ever met.
Burrowing further into the mattress, she closed her eyes and fell asleep with thoughts of Diablo floating in her mind.