Like You Hurt: A Standalone Enemies to Lovers Romance (Devilbend Dynasty Book 2)

by Kaydence Snow

  She pulled back to look at me as her hips met mine, her knees splayed wide, my hands in her hair, on her ass. I groaned deep in my throat at the sensation of being so completely inside her, so carnally connected.

  For a few moments she just sat there, not moving against me as my granite-hard cock twitched inside her warmth.

  Breathing hard, she pressed her forehead to mine and finally found her words. “I want this, you, all of you. I want you, Hendrix—in my body, in my life, in my heart. I want . . . more.”

  I kissed her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks, her nose, which was finally as warm as the rest of her. “I want more too. Everything. Even if I don’t deserve it. Even if it makes me selfish.”

  She took my face in her hands and trailed her thumbs down my cheeks. “You do deserve it. You deserve happiness and light and . . . love. I love you.”

  An indescribable feeling washed over me—something warm and intense and overwhelming and terrifying all at once. No one had ever said those words to me with such conviction.

  “I love you,” I told her with just as much certainty.

  Only then did she start to move against me. Her core ground against my pelvis, not even bouncing up and down—as if she couldn’t stand to not have me inside her for even the fraction of a second it would take to thrust back in.

  We stared into each other’s eyes as we worshipped at the altar of this crazy, cosmic thing between us. And I watched as the orgasm washed over her face, her legs twitching at my sides, her whole body going tense and then so, so loose. I drank in every second of the ecstasy she was finding with me.

  And then I flipped us over and lowered her gently onto the bed, claiming her lips in a kiss. My tongue moved in rhythm with my hips as I pumped in and out and in and out, but it didn’t take long. I came inside her, so deep, and moaned into her mouth. She held me close through it, clawing gently at my back, my ass.

  After our breathing evened out and we cleaned up in my bathroom, we curled up on my bed with the blanket drawn up to our chins. Outside the window, the light was starting to turn that grayish indigo that signaled a new day.

  “It’s dawn,” she whispered against my arm and placed a little kiss there. Her bare ass was against my crotch, her hot little body pressed to mine. Even our legs were tangled.

  “I guess that means you have to go soon.” I squeezed a little tighter, not ready for her to run away as she always did.

  “Nah.” She reached for her phone. “I think I’ll stay. The girls can cover for me.”

  I smiled against the soft hair at the back of her head and was asleep before she even finished writing the text.

  For the next few days, we all went back to our lives and pretended that nothing had changed. Everyone acted as though I didn’t exist, and I went about my business with my usual disinterested look on my face. It was so fucking hard not to smile though, after what Donna and I had shared, after how we’d managed to come out the other end after all we’d been through. I wanted to grin like a fool. She was as frustrated by it as I was. More than once, she pulled me into an empty classroom for a secret kiss, and on Tuesday night, I got home from the gym to find her in the kitchen with Aunt Hannah, chatting and cooking dinner.

  I wanted to forget everything else and just . . . be happy. But I kept it all locked down tight. Seeing Will’s smug face at school was enough of a reminder why I needed to bide my time just a little longer.

  The school hadn’t been able to prove who’d put all the posters up, the cameras having conveniently failed that day, so no one was being punished. But I knew it was him, and he knew I knew. I could see it in his smirk, the way he looked down his nose at me, the taunting glint in his eyes. When I was looking at William Frydenberg was the only time I let my true feelings show—my disgust, my disdain, my rage at who he was and all he represented. I let him see how badly I wanted to beat his ass every time I passed him in the halls. I figured it would only serve to prove I was serious about changing my mind and wanting to get into the ring with him.

  I’d texted Shady the day after our little meeting in the woods, telling him I wanted in but only if I could fight Will. Said I had a score to settle. He’d replied with a thumbs-up and nothing more. I resisted the urge to push him, ask for more info, show my impatience.

  For now, we had to just sit and wait.

  I used the gym to thrash out my frustration. On Wednesday afternoon, I finished a brutal leg session with Turner and hobbled out the back door to find Donna leaning on the wall.

  I didn’t even say hi. I just checked that no one was around before dropping my gym bag and diving in for a kiss. She laughed against my mouth as I pressed her into the concrete at her back. It was just about dusk, the street lights starting to come on, and I wondered if we could get away with a quickie, if the parking lot was too exposed. My girl would totally be up for it too—she was freaky like that.

  “Daaaamn.” The sound of Shady’s voice was like a bucket of cold water being dumped over our heads. He strutted up to us from the corner of the building and leaned against the wall, grinning. “I might be jealous at this new development if I wasn’t sporting a semi. But please, don’t let me interrupt—I like to watch anyway.”

  He bit his lip and scanned Donna’s body without a lick of shame.

  “Shady.” Donna gave him a tight smile. “You know I don’t do jealousy.”

  “Yeah, but you never wore that uniform for me, baby girl. What makes him so special?”

  We looked at each other and couldn’t hold back the genuine smiles. She was special—more precious to me than anything.

  “What’s up, Shady?” I said, keeping my eyes on Donna. Her arms were wrapped around my neck, her tight little body still flush with mine. I hadn’t missed the little flash of excitement in her eyes at Shady’s suggestion to watch us. I was pretty open-minded, but I knew they’d slept together on more than one occasion, and I wasn’t sure I could control my own jealousy. Not yet. I wanted her all to myself for a while.

  “Shit.” Some of the teasing tone left Shady’s voice as he looked between us. “This is the real deal then? You two are a thing? Didn’t see that one coming.” Then he grinned. “Nah, I’m fuckin’ with ya. Saw this coming a mile away!” He threw his head back and laughed.

  Donna finally dropped her arms. I put some distance between us but kept one arm propped on the wall next to her head.

  “Stop messing around.” Now Donna had gone serious. “What are you doing here?”

  “I gotta talk to your man about a dog,” he said.

  “You can talk in front of Donna. She—”

  “No, it’s OK.” She looked over my shoulder; people were coming out of the gym. “I should go anyway. Call me later.”

  She gave me a quick peck on the lips and pushed off the wall.

  Shady leaned forward and puckered his lips, raising his eyebrows expectantly, but she just flipped him off and sauntered away. I smirked as we both watched her disappear around the corner.

  Once she was gone and the people from the gym were in their cars, Shady turned a dead serious expression on me. “What the fuck you doin’, man? We both know you have no interest in those fights.”

  “I told you. I have a score to settle. I’ll only come if your people can guarantee Will Frydenberg will be in the ring with me.”

  “Not my people.” He crossed his arms and tipped his head back, watching me for a few moments.

  I stared him down, not faltering.

  “OK.” He gave a disappointed shake of his head, as if he wanted to say more, and turned to leave.

  “Shady.” He stopped. “Do you go to the fights?”

  “Sometimes.”

  I glanced around the darkening parking lot one more time. He’d looked out for me in his own way, and he’d made it clear he wasn’t on board with this fight club bullshit. “If you happen to have other plans for this particular fight . . . that might not be a bad thing.”

  I raised my eyebrows, hoping he got my gist
.

  But guys like Shady operated in gray areas, were fluent in ambiguity. He cocked his head to the side, then slowly nodded. “All right.”

  Without another word, he walked away.

  The next day, around lunchtime, I got a text message from an unknown number. It contained an address, the word tonight, and nothing more.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Hendrix

  The address was for an abandoned factory in an industrial district about an hour out of town. It was massive, and the adjoining properties were far enough away that no one would hear any noise coming from the squat but sprawling building I’d just pulled up to.

  I’d asked Donna to check if Drew had gotten the same message, not daring to piss off the younger Mead sister by contacting him myself. Donna and I had been texting each other freely—it fit with what the Frydenbergs suspected of our relationship anyway—but we dared not discuss the fight or our plan. Donna’s text to Drew had been masked as her asking him for the address because I was being stubborn and wouldn’t tell her. He was home sick that day, but Donna confirmed he’d received the text too.

  As soon as I got word to the others, Harlow sent all the evidence from Joseph’s computer in anonymously—directly to a cop Donna knew from the legal center where she used to volunteer, knew wasn’t dirty. Harlow had been corresponding with him, though she’d refused to come in and make a statement, and had told him to be ready near the factory that evening.

  I got out of the car and walked slowly toward the building. Half the windows were smashed, and weeds grew between the cracks in the concrete. Not a single light was on, either outside or shining from within, but even without light, it was clear there were no other cars parked near me and no other people hanging around. Maybe everyone was already inside. Maybe they were instructed to park at the back.

  Still, as I neared the building and looked for a way in, my steps slowed. It was too quiet. Was it possible the fight was set up in some underground area, away from prying eyes and ears? I wasn’t sure, but something didn’t feel right.

  “Right on time, my man!” Shady emerged from the shadows near a side door set deep into the wall. He was in one of his tracksuits, the cocky grin firmly in place.

  “Hey, dude.” I slapped his hand and thumped his back, looking around. No one—not a single other person—was in sight. “I thought you had other plans.”

  He shrugged. “They fell through. Couldn’t miss your debut in the ring!” He laughed, then turned for the door and gestured for me to follow him. “Everyone parks in the back or down the street. I figured you wouldn’t know where to go since it’s your first time.”

  The heavy metal door creaked as he pulled it open, but when we stepped inside the warehouse, I grabbed his shoulder. “Thanks, man, I appreciate it.” Then I lowered my voice. “You can go now.”

  He dropped the bravado to give me a rare serious look. “Nah, I think I’ll stay.”

  Stupid petty criminal. I sighed, but he was already walking away before I could say more. I was trying to save him from getting arrested, and he was sticking by my side out of some misguided sense of loyalty? Fine, his problem. I had to stay focused.

  I texted Donna, knowing my phone would probably be taken at any moment.

  Heading in now.

  Shady led me past rows of dilapidated, rusting machinery and sagging conveyor belts. The rest of the space was bare, covered in dust and grime. Broken windows high above our heads let in beams of weak light as rats scurried in the shadows.

  We rounded a corner, and several floodlights set on high stands flared to life. I pulled up short and squinted, my eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness.

  Two figures stood in the middle of the starkly lit area. Two men, and no one else.

  My whole body tensed, hands curling into fists at my sides. Something had gone very wrong.

  The space did indeed look as though it was set up for a fight. A rough circle had been painted on the dirty concrete floor, plenty of space around it, and there was a balcony overhead on one side with what looked like empty offices behind the railing. But clearly, I was the only one who’d come here expecting to see an illegal fight ring.

  “Hendrix Hawthorn.” The man standing next to Will had the same brown hair, the same build, the same sneering mouth. They even stood in the same pose. Will’s dad had his hands in the pockets of his long coat, worn over a suit and tie, while Will’s were in the pockets of his Fulton Academy varsity jacket. “I’ve been told you want to settle a score with my son.” A pause, a cold grin. “Have at it.”

  Will rolled his neck, his full focus on me.

  I gritted my teeth and threw a murderous look at Shady.

  He just flashed me that stupid grin. “You’re a cool dude, but business is business.”

  That spineless son of a bitch. He retreated to lean against the staircase leading up to the balcony, whipping his phone out as if he was already bored.

  “You see, the thing about dealing with criminals is you have to remember they’re self-serving at their core,” Mr. Frydenberg explained to me as if he were giving a lecture. “They’re always going to do what’s in their best interest. And Shady here is going to prosper greatly from our new mutually beneficial arrangement.”

  Shady just gave him a thumbs-up, hardly even raising his eyes from his screen.

  “Criminals and businessmen both,” I said, rolling my shoulders.

  He laughed low. Will took off the varsity jacket and draped it over the railing next to Shady, loosening up too.

  I was going to beat his ass into this disgusting concrete until his every breath was a gurgle. His dad looked as if he’d hardly stepped foot on a treadmill in a decade, his gut poking out of his coat—it wouldn’t take much to get him on his ass either. Shady would be running by then; that’s what rats do. But I’d catch him. I’d chase him down and . . .

  And . . .

  Austin’s face flashed in my mind, his eyes wide but unseeing, blood slowly pooling around his head. For a split second, I was back on that street in New York, once again realizing what I’d done. How irrevocable it was.

  I had so much adrenaline pumping through my system, so much rage and outrage, my body practically screamed at me to start throwing punches. But I also felt sick to my stomach. All three of the men standing before me were the lowest kind of trash, but I refused to take another life. I couldn’t have that on my conscience. Not again. Not ever again.

  I forced myself to take a deep breath, flex my fingers and not curl them back into fists. I knew I’d walk away from this broken in more ways than I could count—if I even walked away at all—but my decision was made.

  “I’m not going to fight you, Will,” I said, proud of how steady and clear my voice sounded. “I was never going to fight you.”

  “Oh, you’re going to fight me.” Will sneered, slowly pacing back and forth, closing in like a hyena.

  “No, I’m not.” I shook my head. “I’m done with that shit. No amount of threats and intimidation were ever going to get me to throw another punch. Sorry you wasted your time putting all those posters up. Hope you didn’t get too many paper cuts.”

  “Stop being a pussy and hit him!” Joseph’s voice echoed in the cavernous space. Like a good little boy, Will immediately moved to obey his father.

  He sprang forward, throwing a wide right hook. But he wasn’t quick enough. I ducked out of the way and backed up, hands raised in front of me. I wasn’t going to fight him—but I was going to defend myself as long as I could.

  Will growled and came for me again. Football had made him fast, strong—he was relentless. I batted his swings out of the way, dodging and weaving, but eventually I started to get winded.

  He pulled back, dancing on his toes, waiting, but his face had lost some of its confidence. If this was for real, if I’d actually stepped into the ring with him, I would’ve already won—and he knew it.

  “Do I have to do everything myself?” Joseph barked and shrugged out
of his coat, letting it flop to the filthy ground, before loosening his tie. They both advanced on me. I considered running, but what was the point? They’d catch up—eventually. Even if it wasn’t before I reached my car and got away, they’d find me and do what they planned to do. Might as well get it over with.

  I tried to get away from them, duck out of their reach, but it was two against one. After some grappling and shoving, Joseph managed to grab my arms and held me by the elbows as I thrashed.

  Pain exploded in my skull with Will’s first punch, and my eye felt as if it had burst in its socket.

  Is this what Austin felt, right before he stopped feeling anything at all? Or was there no pain whatsoever for him?

  I saw the next hit coming and tensed, but it still hurt like a motherfucker when Will’s fist collided with my core. My insides clenched, and my stomach roiled. I half hoped I’d puke all over him.

  Like a little bitch, Will backhanded me, but he was wearing a ring, and it split my bottom lip open. The hit rattled my brain even more after that initial punch. It threw my head to the side, and for a moment, I caught a glimpse of Shady. He was still leaning on the railing, still casually scrolling through his phone. Unbelievable . . .

  He glanced up and winced, but my full focus was taken up by Will’s fist smashing into my ribs. I coughed and wheezed, doubling over as much as possible with his father holding me tightly.

  Finally, Will took a few steps back, breathing hard.

  I spit blood onto the concrete and fixed him with as firm a look as I could manage through a rapidly swelling eye. “I was never going to fight you,” I repeated. “The police are already on their way.” I prayed that was true—or at least that they would believe it enough to leave. What if the police came past, saw it was as quiet as I thought when I arrived, and didn’t bother to check inside?

  Shady’s chuckle echoed. Will grinned before stepping a little closer. “We both know the cops aren’t coming. And even if they do, what are they gonna find?” He spread his arms wide and looked around. “All I see is a man and his son protecting their property from a known murderer.”