Stone (Savage Hearts Book 1)

by C. S. Gunn

  STONE

  SAVAGE HEARTS BOOK 1

  C. S. GUNN

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Copyright © 2019

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction, any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Prologue

  Stone

  "Are you ready to get your ass handed to you?” Chase asked as he walks into the locker room with a cocky grin.

  “You’re late fucker. Fight starts soon.”

  This is our big fight, the one that is going to send us to the MMA big time. Word is, there’s a scout here ready to see what the two of us are made of. Chase and I have been working toward this since we were fifteen with our trainer, Chuck. I met Chase when were just kids, he was being bullied by a group of older boys and I stepped in and beat the shit out of all three of them, we’ve been inseparable ever since. He’s stood by me through all the foster homes and all the undeserved beatings by foster parents. He’s been my constant, I can’t think of a better person to have by my side other than my best friend……even if I do plan on knocking him out tonight.

  “I know man. I drove Vicky to work and then she rode my dick in the parking lot before getting out of the car. Kind of hard to resist when she sucked me off on the way there.”

  “Sounds like Vicky.” I chuckle. Vicky is a girl that Chase fucks from time to time, no strings and no feelings, works out perfect for the two of them.

  “Five minutes ladies!” Chuck yells from the locker room door.

  “Alright, let’s go asshole. The crowd is waiting.” I walk past him as he finishes getting ready and smack him in the back of the head.

  “Definitely handing you your fucking ass tonight.” He mumbles as he follows.

  ***

  I hear my name being announced over the screaming crowd as I walk into the main arena. This is what I live for. The adrenaline rush I get is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s a high that can’t be matched. Once I enter the octagon I hear Chase’s name being announced, I look over to see him strutting down the aisle in typical Chase fashion…cocky as shit. Stopping at the end of the aisle, he grabs a cute blonde by the back of her neck and pulls her in for a long kiss before entering the octagon.

  “Really? Didn’t you just have a girl bouncing up and down on your dick less than an hour ago?” I ask with an arched eyebrow as soon as he’s within earshot.

  “Yup, but that still won’t stop me from having that hot little thing screaming my name later.” He winks. I have no doubt that’s exactly what will be happening after we’re through here, women go batshit over Chase. He’s charming as hell. Me on the other hand, not so much. Don’t get me wrong, woman can’t seem to get enough of me, but I’m no charmer. I fuck, then I leave. Never found one worth staying for more…..but, I’m not really looking either.

  “Alright, you know the rules!” the referee yells. “No head butting, no eye gouging, and for god’s sake, no nut shots!” I’m guessing the fighters in the last fight didn’t get the memo about that last one.

  The bell rings, Chase and I circle each other like two predators. He may be my best friend, but all that matters right now is the title of champion. I know he feels the same way, and that’s going to make this the best fight these people have seen in a long time. We’re both twenty four years old and huge, muscle stacked on top of muscle. Chase may be six feet to my six foot three inches but he packs a mean fucking punch and I know I’ve got my work cut out for me.

  He throws the first punch at it lands on the side of my face, fucker has one hell of a left hook. He swings his right fist and I duck just in time. He stumbles from the missed hit. I take the opening and uppercut him in the gut. He reaches for my shoulder with one hand while the other slams into the side of my body…fuck that hurt!

  The jolt from Chase hitting, what I assume is my damn liver, has me tumbling to the ground and he’s on top of me in a blink of an eye, fists flying everywhere.

  After who knows how many punches to my dome, I was able to block and land one of my own on his chin. I finally get my leg wedged between us just enough to kick him off. I grab his shoulders, position my leg where I need it and shove him over my head. I quickly get up and get ready to put him in an arm bar. Just as I grab his arm, the bell rings ending round one.

  We head to opposite sides of the octagon. I sit down and pour a bottle of water over my head and I see Chase sink to the floor, resting his arms on his knees. “Dude, that was fucking brutal. How’s your face?”

  I shrug. “Feels great. How’s your chin?”

  “That was a love tap.”

  “Shut the fuck up.” I chuckle and shake my head as I flip him the bird.

  “Get ready boys, time for round two!” the ref shouts.

  I look over at Chase. “You ready?”

  “Fuck yes. I was born ready!”

  I don’t waste any time once the bell sounds, I swing my right fist and connect with Chase’s jaw. He stumbles but recovers quickly. He throws his fist and lands dead center busting my nose. My eyes water, but I see the next hit coming and shift to the side to avoid it.

  The round goes on for what feels like forever. We land punch after punch, kick after kick. I may have gotten a few more hits in, but Chase has made me work my ass off for them. I knew this wouldn’t be an easy fight, he’s an amazing fighter.

  The bell finally rings closing round two. Chase and I are both clearly starting to slow down….we’ve been giving it all we’ve got these last two rounds and we’re fucking tired. We still have three rounds to go….shit!

  When round three begins we’re both exhausted, breathing heavy, and covered in sweat. There’s blood slowly dripping in my left eye, asshole really did a number on my face in round one… “Dude, I’m fucking dying right now.” Chase breathes out heavily.

  “You can always tap out.” I say with a grin, knowing he won’t. This means as much to him as it does to me. I kick my leg out and it connects with his, sending him to the ground. I quickly pounce on him, raining down blows as swiftly as I can. Chase finds his opportunity and grabs me by the chin and shoulder and pushes me off of him. In my exhausted state, there was little I could do to prevent it.

  We both end up on our feet, circling each other once again. He comes at me, hitting me in the jaw. The impact has me falling against the chain link fence surrounding the octagon. He kicks his right leg out and I dodge, spin, and slam my elbow into the side of his head. Chase falls to the floor.

  “KNOCK OUT!” the ref yells…..I just won. I can’t fucking believe it! After the ref declares me the winner I spin around looking for Chase with a huge smile plastered on my face. All I see are medics huddled around him as
he lies on the octagon floor motionless. My smile drops as I rush over to him, falling to my knees. “What’s wrong? Is he okay?” I ask one of the medics.

  “His pulse is slipping, move back!” he says in a raised voice. Panic starts to set in.

  As the medic tries to get Chase’s pulse to stabilize, the ringside emergency doctor enters the octagon. The medic moves aside and the doctor crouches down next to Chase and places his fingers on his neck and then his stethoscope on his chest. “His pulse is incredibly weak. He’s not going to hold on much longer.” The doctor continues to try and get his heart rate up while I watch in shock, nothing seems to be working.

  After minutes that felt like hours, the doctor looks at me. Tearing my gaze away from the man I call my brother, I give the doctor my attention. “I’m sorry, he’s gone.” he says solemnly.

  My lungs feel like they’re collapsing, I can’t breathe. My whole world spins out of control. This wasn’t supposed to happen! HOW THE FUCK DID THIS HAPPEN! What have I done? I push the doctor out of my way and scoop Chase into my arms holding his head to my chest, as tears and blood soak my cheeks. “NOOO! Wake up! Please wake up!” I sob. “Don’t leave me, you can’t! Please Chase, wake the fuck up! I need you!”

  The medics try to remove Chase from my arms. “I’m sorry, but we need to take him.” One of them says.

  “Get the fuck off me!” I scream. “He’s going to wake up, he was just knocked out. He’ll be fine, just give him some fucking room!”

  Chuck appears in the octagon grabbing my arm, “Stone, he’s gone. Chase is gone. You have to let them take him.”

  “NO! FUUUUCK! Stay the fuck back!” I’m sobbing uncontrollably. He can’t be gone! He’s the best person I know. He’s the only good part of my shitty life, the only one that stood by my side when everyone else thought I was worthless. Why wasn’t it me? Why did he have to die? I silently pray that I be taken instead.

  The medics finally extract Chase from the death grip I had on him and I feel empty, I feel like my heart just imploded. Chase and MMA were the only two things I’ve ever cared about, and now he’s dead. I no longer want the title, it’s only a reminder of what I’ve done.

  I get up not bothering to wipe the wetness from my eyes. I walk to where the medics have Chase on the gurney and press my forehead to his, “I’m so sorry brother. I love you.” I whisper to him. I turn away and walk out of the arena through the back into the night air like a zombie, not caring about the belt, my broken nose, the scout, or the money I won. My mind is numb, I have nothing left….where do I go from here? I’m fucking lost…..

  Chapter One

  Stone

  Iwake up in a cold sweat, gasping for air. My head is pounding from the amount of liquor I consumed the night before. The nightmares didn’t help either, but they were welcomed. I deserved that pain and more for what I did to him, for the life I took. Once I catch my breath I rub the sleep from my face and reach over to grab the bottle of aspirin and glass of water from the nightstand, drunk me always keeps some there for sober me. After swallowing two aspirin and draining the water I get out of bed and make my way to the kitchen. I need coffee then a shower, I smell like a fucking distillery.

  Finally showered and dressed in my favorite faded jeans, a black v neck and a pair of old chucks, I leave the apartment and head downstairs to unlock the bar, time to get ready for another miserable fucking day. Walking into the bar I notice the mess I left behind, fuck me. Why can’t drunk me ever clean his own fucking shit up? This seems to be my routine, get shitfaced after closing and pay for it in the morning. I go behind the bar and grab a rag and start wiping down the bar, once I’m satisfied that it’s clean enough, I remove the bottles from the tables and scrub those down too. After everything’s cleaned, I head to the office to grab my cash bag from the safe when I see Ashe, the bartender I hired after I bought The Asylum, sleeping on the couch. He must have stumbled in after I went upstairs last night. I didn’t even notice his car was still outside, sometimes I wish I could take that fuckers key, but since he’s my only employee I’m stuck letting him keep it. I walk over and kick the couch. “Wake the fuck up.”

  He jumps up and almost falls on the floor. “What he fuck man! Shit!”

  “Why the fuck are you sleeping in here?” I open the safe and grab my cash bag.

  “Would you rather I slept on the bar?” he arches his eyebrow. I’m not impressed with his smart ass mouth and he knows it. “Look, I’m sorry. Synthia kicked me out of her apartment.” He runs his hand trough his hair.

  “What did you do to get kicked out? She doesn’t kick anyone out of her bed.”

  “Man, I don’t even know. She just started freaking out and throwing shit at me. She invited some girl to join us then said I was giving the other girl too much attention.” That girl is a psycho, I don’t know why he thought things would go any different.

  “Why didn’t you just go home?”

  “I was drunk and this was within walking distance.” He shrugs.

  “Next time get an Uber, this isn’t a crash pad. It’s a place of business.”

  “Dude, I’ve caught you passed out on this very couch plenty of times, and your apartment is upstairs.”

  “It’s my place of business.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Go home and get cleaned up, we open in forty five minutes.”

  “Sure, man. See you in forty five.” he stubbles out of the office…asshole’s probably still drunk. Whatever, as long as he can work, I don’t give a shit. It’s not like I haven’t been drunk behind the bar a few times.

  I walk out of the office to put the cash from the cash bag into the register, then over to the jukebox to play some music. Taking note of what I need, I head to the storeroom in the back to get all of the beer and liquor that needs to be stocked…..I must have drank a lot of scotch last night, there’s a bottle and a half of the good shit gone. Well, might as well have some more, hair of the dog and all that bullshit. After everything is stocked I grab a tall shot glass and pour myself a double and slam it back, the burn is exactly what I needed. Just as I’m getting ready to pour a second shot, I hear the door open….is he seriously back already? But when I turn around, I don’t see Ashe, I see Synthia strolling in…what is it with people coming in here whenever they fucking feel like it? And why the hell didn’t Ashe lock the damn door behind him?

  “What do you want, Syn? We aren’t open yet.” I pour the shot and take it.

  “Where the fuck is Ashe?”

  “Did you see his car outside?”

  “No”

  “Then he’s obviously not here.”

  She walks around to my side of the bar, shedding her jacket, underneath she’s in nothing but a black lace bra and a thong…what the fuck. “Why do you look so tense Stone? You look like you need some relief.” She traces her index finger down the middle of my chest to the waist of my jeans. It makes me shiver, and not in a good way.

  I roughly fist the back of her hair and lean close to her. “And I suppose you want to be the one to relieve me?”

  “Mmhmm.” she murmurs. “I’ll give you the best blow job you’ve ever had” she says as she presses her body against mine. “Then you can fuck me, right here on the bar.”

  “Not happening, Syn.” I let go of her hair.

  “Come on, Stone. I want you, and I know you want me too. I’ve been thinking about the things you can do to me for so long.” She presses against me firmer, “I touch myself to the thought of it.” Does she even realize how desperate she looks?

  “Were you thinking about me last night when you were with Ashe? Or the night before when you were blowing some random guy in the parking lot?” I attempt to step away, but she follows.

  “Are you jealous?” she smirks. Not even a little.

  Before I could respond Ashe comes through the door. “Damn, Syn. You miss me already? You over last night’s bullshit?”

  “Actually, I came here to let you apologize but you weren’t
around.” She traces the line of my cock over my jeans “But Stone here is looking too appetizing to pass up. Now, if you don’t mind, we were just about to-“

  “She was just leaving. “ I interrupt.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Go find some other guy to stick his dick in you, Syn. We’ve got shit to do here.” I said a little harsher than I probably needed to, but this girl doesn’t get the hint…ever. I would never fuck Syn, she opens her legs to anyone with a cock and a pulse.

  “You know what? Fuck both of you!” she grabs her jacket and shrugs it on as she storms out of the door.

  “Oh, come on baby, don’t be like that!” Ashe calls after her.

  “Fuck off, Ashe!” we hear her scream through the door.

  He laughs. “She’ll be back.”

  “I fucking hope not.” but she will. She always comes back. Same shit different day.

  After being open for almost two hours we finally get our first customer. Betty Parker. She’s a woman in her late sixties, covered in too much makeup, doused in perfume, and always dresses like she’s going to a night club. Oh, and let’s not forget she’s a shameless flirt. “Hey dear!” she smiles wide, flashing her yellow teeth, and sits in her spot at the end of the bar. “I’ll have my usual. And if you want to take your shirt off when you make it, I won’t complain.”

  I grab the ingredients and start making her an old fashion. This is a beer and shot bar, we don’t do mixed drinks. We have soda for the designated drivers, not that we have many of those, so the best you’ll get is a rum and coke…and a look from the bartender that says ‘you’re a pussy’ if you actually order it. But Betty is a loyal regular, so I make the exception. “I think I’ll keep my clothes on for now.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Ashe comes walking in from the back. “You look sexy as fuck Betty! New hair?”

  “Oh, yes!” she squeals. “I got it this morning, thought maybe it’ll get me some action. It’s been a while since anyone’s been downtown if you know what I mean.” Betty always has a different color wig on when she comes in, today’s color is some light purple shit.