Off One’s Rocker
JULES
I HAD TURNED INTO A prune, literally.
My skin was all wrinkled and my toes shriveled by the time I finally emerged from the tub. Grabbing a towel, I dried myself and noted that my skin might have been clean from the hot water, but my arousal was not nearly satisfied.
As I wrapped a robe around my naked body, I knew that I would give in and call him to invite him over. Now. Tonight. The simple truth was—I wanted him. His mouth on me. His hands on me. Him.
I wanted to feel him lick the soft, wet slit of my pussy. I wanted to coax a smile on his lips when I came hard under his tongue. I wanted him to fuck me with his hands and his cock and his mouth until I came. I wanted to make him come and beg for more.
And I couldn’t wait any longer.
When my phone rang, I lunged for it. It was him. I was sure, and I was going to order him to come over right now.
Before I could get to it though, I slipped on the wet floor and landed on my butt. With my rear throbbing, I got on my knees and crawled across the tile to grab for my phone, and then I hurriedly pressed answer. “Hello.”
“Is this Jules Easton?” the gruff voice asked.
I glanced at the number. I didn’t know it. “Yes.”
“I have a guy in my back room that gave me instructions I was to call you if anything happened to him.”
“What happened?” I asked in alarm.
“He got knocked out, and he’s in pretty bad shape.”
“How bad?”
“I’m not a fucking doctor, lady, but he doesn’t look good, or I wouldn’t be calling.”
“Can I talk to him?”
“He’s out cold.”
“Can you take him to the hospital and I’ll meet you there?”
He said nothing.
My nerves started to flutter. “Where are you? I’ll call for an ambulance?”
His laughter was almost sardonic. “Look, lady, we don’t take nobody to no hospital, and we don’t call for no ambulances. You got that?”
All I could do was close my eyes. “Yes, I got that.”
There was some crinkling of paper. “I was about to throw his ass out on the street when I remembered he told me if I called you I’d get $200.”
“How did he tell you that? He’s out cold.”
He sighed. “When he came in he gave me your number. And in case of an emergency, I was to keep him with me until you got here. If I did, I’d get $200 bucks. And I did, so are you coming to get him, or what?”
I got to my feet. “Yes. I’ll be right there. What’s the address?”
“Lady, I ain’t no phone book. We’re at the AX. And when you come, don’t forget the money.”
“No, I won’t.”
After hanging up, I got dressed as fast as I could. Once I slipped my sneakers on, I googled the AX. I gasped as I read posts about the underground fighting ring, or rather the cage fights. They were illegal. That much I knew. According to the internet, the referees weren’t trained, the fights weren’t monitored, and the rules weren’t set in stone. There were also no medical personnel there to help with injuries.
It sounded barbaric.
Why was Finn there, of all places?
No time to think about anything, I had to move fast. In a rush, I scrambled down the stairs and rifled through the kitchen cabinets for the coffee can where my uncle had once kept money when we were kids, in case we needed it. Luckily, there was still some in there, and I grabbed it all. I was fairly certain Finn didn’t have that amount of cash on him. And I didn’t have much, either.
Combining what I had with the money from the can, it totaled two hundred and twenty dollars. I tossed it in my purse.
In my car, I plugged the address into my GPS and then headed downtown.
What had he done?
In the past, I’d cleaned and bandaged Finn’s cuts, but he’d always come home and then asked me for help. Things had to be pretty bad if he couldn’t even get to the house.
Finn liked to fight, sure, but he was training with someone that was helping him get ready to apply to the UFC.
I had no idea where I was when my GPS told me I’d arrived. The building didn’t have a sign on it, but it looked like an old abandoned factory.
Cars, trucks, and motorcycles filled the parking lots, and when I got out, a man that had been loitering around whistled at me. “Hey, over here, pretty thing.”
I didn’t know why I even looked his way, but I did. He had leaned against a building and was unzipping his pants.
“Help a guy out,” he smiled.
My heart started to pound.
Luckily, I’d thrown on a pair of jeans and a tank top, along with my Converse, and I was able to move fast.
Throwing open the door, I could hardly believe what I was looking at. Hundreds of people filled the space. Stepping inside, I was nearly blinded by the fluorescent lights and the music was so loud, the floors were shaking. I felt there was a subway running beneath me.
This unsanctioned event was utterly rampant.
Pushing my way in through the throng of people, I ignored the smell and the heat. I had no idea where I was going, but I just kept moving. Even as the sweat beaded on my skin, I didn’t stop.
Up high, windows were open, and fans were blaring in almost every corner. I don’t think the place had air-conditioning.
There were sweaty men and women everywhere, most of them drunk or high. To my surprise, some of the men were dressed in suits and some of the women wore expensive high heels.
When I got close enough to the center, I could see the cage. People were screaming as they huddled around it. “Rambo. Rambo. Rambo.”
Their attention was on the fighter covered in tattoos who was pushing through the crowd with his corner men and three half-naked ring girls leading the way. He was huge. Big and ripped with biceps so large they had to be bigger than my thighs. Blood was dripping from his eye down to his mouth, and I prayed to God he wasn’t whom Finn had fought.
Scurrying away from the hustle and bustle, I spotted a sign that read, “Office.”
Finn had to be in there.
Weaving around and through the crowd, I reached the door and knocked on it.
“Go the fuck away,” came an angry voice.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Stupid. This was stupid. I should have called my uncle. “I’m here to pick up my cousin.”
The door flung open, and his eyes raked over me. “You got my money?”
I nodded and took the money out of my purse, tossing one of the twenties back in before I handed it to him.
After he took it, he shoved it down his pants. He didn’t have to worry—it wasn’t like I was going to try to get it back, but if I were, there was no chance of it. “He’s over there. Now get him out of here.”
My eyes darted to the heap on the floor. “Finn,” I cried out as I rushed over to him. He was shirtless and lay lifeless on the floor. There was dried blood on his face and hands, and he was coated in a sheen of sweat. “Finn,” I said again softly.
The burly guy turned up the wall unit, and a blast of cold air hit me in the face. I felt my nipples pebble and cursed myself for wearing this shirt.
The manager sat at his desk and picked up his sandwich.
“What happened to him?” I screamed.
With a hunk of food in his mouth, he said, “Like I already told you, he got knocked out.”
“By who?”
He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Rambo.”
“Why was he fighting a guy so much bigger than him?”
“Why do you think, girlie? Money.”
I looked back down at Finn. “How much money?”
“Ten grand. Any more questions?”
I shook my head. Finn knew I was in dire straits and when he said he’d help me out, I thought he meant with his time, not by trying to raise cash through fighting. I fought back my tears.
“Then get him out of here.”
With my ear to Finn’s chest, I could hear him breathing, and sighed in relief. “I need help. I can’t carry him alone.”
He sipped his beer and then burped. “That will cost you another hundred.”
I pushed Finn’s hair away from his eyes and saw how swollen both were, and by the amount of blood around his nostrils, it looked like he’d broken his nose again. “I don’t have another hundred.”
“Then come back when you do. I’ll be here all night.”
Tears fell hot from my eyes. I didn’t have a hundred dollars in my account. I wasn’t even sure I had ten dollars. “I have twenty dollars left in my purse. If I give you that, will you please just help me get him to the car?”
The guy had turned his attention to the porn he was watching on the small television. “I told you. That’s gonna cost you a hundred.”
“Finn.” I tried again to lift him. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. “Please Finn, get up.”
The guy turned toward me, “He’s out cold, girlie. There ain’t no way he’s getting up on his own, but I’ll take that twenty and a blowie if it helps you out.”
Disgusted, I got to my feet. “In your dreams.”
He shrugged. “Just thought I’d offer.”
I pushed the hair that had fallen loose from my ponytail back into the elastic. “You’ll keep him in here until I get back?”
His eyes were glued to the screen. “Like I said, I’m here all night, and he sure as hell ain’t going anywhere.”
Straightening my shoulders, I headed toward the door. “I shouldn’t be very long.”
He didn’t respond.
He didn’t care.
Outside his door, I pulled out my cell, but I had no reception. The place was concrete—everywhere.
Sighing, I made my way back toward the entrance. Fluorescent lights from overhead flickered as I weaved through the crowd once again. Hands touched my ass, my breasts, and tugged on my ponytail, but I did not show any fear. Instead, I just moved faster, and faster still.
Gasping for air out in the humid Georgia night, I pushed away the feeling that I couldn’t breathe and that I wasn’t quite steady on my feet. There was no time for that nonsense.
Knowing it would alter the dynamics of our relationship, but having no other choice, I pulled out my cell once again and called the only person I could think to call.
When he answered, I started to cry, and I hated myself for that. “I need you. Can you come?”
“Where are you?”
I told him. I told him everything. It just came out.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“And can you bring a hundred dollars in cash, please?”
“Yeah, sure,” he said without question. “And go where I told you, and don’t move from there.”
“I won’t.”
I hung up and clung to myself.
How had things gotten this bad?
“Hey, pretty thing,” said that same gruff voice.
I tried to back away, but the brick way got in my way.
He grabbed my arm with his huge hand. “Did you change your mind?”
I felt it coming, but there was no way I could stop it.
PANIC.
And once it started, there was no stopping it.
I’d learned that many years ago.