Diablo's Throne MMA Books 1-3

by HJ Bellus

  “You’re welcome.” The two words slip easily from my tongue. I don’t bat away gratitude like I typically would. I accept it like I have everything else this family has offered me.

  It takes Jag longer than ten minutes to make it to the front door. I chalk it up to him and the boys talking about what happened tonight. I check my phone for a text from Jag even though the small device hasn’t dinged yet.

  “Excuse me.”

  I look up to see Landon glowering down at me. His crisp blue eyes pierce through my armor. The sharp lining of his jaw is so damn familiar, and yet I can’t place it. His stare screams he knows me. The man gives me the creeps. Dread chills my bones as he doesn’t break eye contact.

  “Do I know you?” I stutter out, regretting my question as soon as it comes out.

  “I don’t know, do you?” He leans in, encroaching on my personal space.

  “Never mind.” I duck my head and turn my back to him.

  “You’ll soon connect the dots, princess.” He grabs my shoulder.

  I step away from him, not looking back. His sinister laughter pierces my eardrums. I wait in a corner, keeping my stare on the hallway. As each moment ticks by, I grow more uncomfortable. I feel glaring stares drilling holes in my back, but I don’t turn around. I just need Jag to pop his gorgeous smile out of that hallway, and everything will be right in the world…for now.

  Every second that ticks by is felt on my skin. It begins to creep and crawl as the time passes by. I hear his contagious laugh before I see him. It’s magnetic, and I dart to the opening of the hallway away from the gate to my escape. All because of him.

  Jag has his head turned, laughing about something with Boss. He doesn’t see me coming as I sprint to him. He turns his head just in time to drop his bag. I leap into his open arms. The protection of his chest catches me and holds me safely to him. His solid torso absorbs all my trembles and shivers.

  “Baby girl, you okay?” He runs a hand up and down my back.

  “I am now.” My lips run up and down his neck.

  “Someone fuck with you?”

  I pause before answering. His body stiffens, knowing I’m about to lie to him. It hurts more than any other pain in my life. I’d serve jail time again not to feel this man tense under me. “No, I missed you.”

  He kisses the shell of my ear. “I got you, baby. I got you.”

  One hand continues to run up and down my back as he strides out of the gym. He walks past all the prying stares, not giving two fucks. Boss picks up his bag and follows us. Ice-cold chills continue to attack me even though I’m in the arms of my place of safety. Jag doesn’t stop or put me down until we are in the parking lot near Boss’ truck.

  I slide out of his arms and let him have time with his coach. I stare at the city line and setting sun, praying as I’ve never done before. Warm, loving arms wrap around me, and they’re not Jag’s.

  “You’re part of the family, Sunni. Fall on us.” Boss’ deep baritone voice vibrates against my flesh.

  I freeze in his arms. It doesn’t stop him from hugging the hell out of me. He doesn’t let go of me even though I don’t hug him back. His large, wise palms run up and down my back. It’s not until I melt into him that he relaxes. He doesn’t say another word. My arms finally wrap around his wide torso, embracing him back.

  Tears attack, threatening to spill over. I battle back, not allowing the weak emotion to take over at this moment. I don’t speak a word when he lets me go. His gentle, kind, and caring eyes send me a wink before he disappears into his truck. It’s everything. Boss is the godfather of the operation and just accepted me with open arms. I’ve never in my life felt so damn loved.

  Before I know it, Jag clasps my hand, and we are running down the sidewalk toward home. He tugs me into a hole in an alleyway. His gym bag tumbles to the ground as I’m hoisted up into his chest. My legs wrap around his middle as my back collides with an unforgiving brick wall.

  The sharp pain from the gritty brick is taken away as Jag’s lips attach to my neck. His finger flicks open the button of my jeans as I press into him and tug at the back of his neck.

  “I fucking need you, Sunni.”

  “Take me.”

  “My cock has been throbbing for you, and I can’t wait any longer.”

  “Don’t.” I tug on his long hair. “Take me.”

  They’re the only words Jag needs. He rips down my shorts, parts my thong, and slides in. His first thrust is gentle, as is his growl. His pace picks up with each movement as his fingertips dig into my side and the raw abrasion of the bricks digs into my flesh. The pain is nothing compared to the pleasure of Jag adoring me as he pushes inside of me. I focus on his stare and loving nature. It grounds me as his sweat rains down on my flesh. His love pours down on me in the form of pain, terror, and safety. It’s all consuming and conflicting. All I know is with each thrust, this is the man God put me on Earth for. Jag is my savior and everything between.

  I clutch the back of his neck and express my love with words from my vocabulary. His cock throbs inside of me, and my chants continue. Jag doesn’t stop his relentless pounding and grunts. Every single one of his punches in the octagon is mirrored in his thrusts. It was the greatest victory, and I’m coming out the victor. I take each one of his merciless thrusts.

  It hurts and is blissful all at the same moment. Jag roars, signaling me to his release. I clench around him, so close to my own. One pulse then two and I’m losing all control with the man I love more than my destiny. Only if it could be enough. Not even a fool would believe it because reality always catches up with former sins. I never knew it was so damn close. If I did, I’d love this man until my lips were raw.

  They say hindsight is twenty-twenty. I wouldn’t believe it until tomorrow when all my yesterdays were torn away from me. Life is a cruel bitch. That’s the only lesson I’ve taken away from my days on this earth.

  Chapter 23

  Jag

  The cheers when I open the door to Diablo’s Throne are deafening. I’ve never felt like a king in all my days until now. The morning after the fight of my life is more gratifying than beating the sin out of the Titan douche.

  I’ll never forget the feeling of seeing my birth father and not allowing him to affect me. It was a victory on its own. The night after solidified everything. I’m just a simple man who found an amazing woman. I have my family and the gym. This should be a rest day, but Sunni had to work, and I was revved up to get back in the gym and train.

  I have my sight set on two things—the title and putting a ring on Sunni’s finger. She has secrets and a past that I won’t allow to taunt me. I’ve learned to trust my gut over the years, and I’ll continue down that path.

  After few back slaps and congrats, I head into the locker room and change into my workout clothes. The loyal locker that’s held my trust for years holds its steady door open for me. I whip into my workout clothes with nothing but peace in my soul.

  The workout is grueling. You’d never know Boss was arrested and bailed out.

  “Again!” He slams the weights in my arms.

  I do ten more reps with no sign of giving up. It doesn’t please him, and he demands more. The same happens at the punching bags and in the ring. Boss doesn’t relent. I don’t take it as a putdown but an outpouring of love, and even though every single last muscle in my body screams to give up, I push on. The end goal is in sight, and that’s all I focus on as my body refuses to continue on. With each aching muscle and stumbling leg, I punch and fight, never giving up.

  The bell above the door rings. Nobody should be walking into Diablo’s right now, making everyone turn. Police officers flip their badges, followed by men in suits. It gains everyone’s attention. The momentum of the gym is stalled. Boss is the first one to approach.

  His arrest is on all our minds. It’s the furthest from our reality. I yank off my sweat-soaked shredded t-shirt and strip away the wraps on my fists. I stomp to Boss, ready to defend his honor.


  “Need to speak to José.”

  My blood freezes in my warm veins at the name spoken. Layla, Cruz, and Boss are at my side as I stand with my head raised high, knowing this has something to do with the scum known as my birth father.

  “We are here to discuss the matter of Sasha Brown.” The detective adjusts his tie as the man next to him portrays a pompous motherfucker. He steps up to us and begins talking. It takes me several long beats to catch up since I led the pack to defend Boss’ honor.

  “I’m Officer Jaco, and we have reports to support a Sasha Brown is in your town.”

  I cut the prick off. “Don’t know any Sasha, asshole, so unless you have something else to say, get your ass out of this gym.”

  I’m yanked back into Boss’ solid chest. He hisses in my ear. “Shut the fuck up, boy.”

  My mouth snaps shut even though I want nothing more than to lay into the smug asshole. He’s a dick, and it’s printed all over his face. I could spot a dick like this a mile away. This guy is the loud, obnoxious asshole from elementary school who seeks out more attention than anyone else. My reaction doesn’t stop him. This asshole loves the sound of his voice.

  “Sasha Brown is a registered sex offender, and we’ve had information given to us she’s been living here under a different name.” The bitch flashes a printed mug shot.

  Sunni’s face smiles back at me. I take a step back, feeling the sucker punch to my gut. Layla, Boss, and Cruz do the same thing. Jaco steps forward and waves the paper in my face. The other man who claimed he’s a detective remains in his place, not taking further action. He’s not as insistent. Something is off. It doesn’t stop Jaco.

  “Sasha is a registered sex offender. It has come to our attention she hasn’t reported this fact to local authorities and has been in the presence of underage children. Also, she has been paid under the table while living here. If you know of her whereabouts, you need to tell us since there’s a warrant out for her arrest.” He pauses for a beat. “It was Landon Chandler that identified her, and we understand you have your differences. However, we are here to protect you from a predator.”

  I cross my arms over my chest, struggling to digest his bullshit. The paper has Sunni’s face plastered on it, but none of the facts match up.

  Jaco continues, “Sasha Brown was prosecuted and served a sentence pertaining to the molestation of an underage child. You’re more than welcome to search the case. It hit national news. She served her time, and we tracked her after she was released since the case was so sensitive and hit close to home. Sasha disappeared off the radar. You can understand our concern since she’s a proven predator. I’ve seen the case and aftermath she left behind. No one is safe around her.”

  Jaco keeps the legal-size paper in my face with Sunni’s face staring back at me. The life and laughter that lingers in her eyes aren’t there. Worry and hurt cover her features. Lines of stress frame her perfect lips. It’s the woman I love, and in the same beat of time, it’s a different woman I don’t recognize. Jaco continues, going on in detail about the horrendous crime against a thirteen-year-old innocent boy.

  With each word, Layla begins to cry and recoil. Bella is on her mind and has been with Sunni. I listen, process, and refuse to believe a word. Jaco picks up on that fact, so he pushes on, providing intricate detail of Sasha or Sunni’s crime. It hits too close to home. Former memories rewind in my memory, the ones where Abraham let his friends abuse and use me. They didn’t care I was a little boy; those monsters took what they wanted, tearing my flesh apart.

  I stare at the picture in Jaco’s hand. I see the woman I love, then those memories replay over and over. The pain strikes me in the gut. The helplessness invades, and all of a sudden, I’m that little boy all over again with the demons using me. Minutes ago, I was the king on top of the world, and now I’m the victim feeling every strike of agonizing pain. I believed in her. Gave her time to tell me her secrets only to be slapped in the face. I might as well have let Abraham win last night because Sunni just took me down, crushing me at the kneecaps. I’ll never be the same.

  Chapter 24

  Sunni

  The morning at the diner sucked. It was slammed. All morning, I meant to text Jag. It never happened. I know we need to have the talk tonight. I’m confident he’ll never understand my past. Hell, I can Google his name and see all his past sins, and it’s nothing compared to mine. Once he knows my real name and Googles me, then it’s game over.

  I had a handful of chances to slip out of work this morning. My palms would grow sweaty, and my heart rate picked up at the thought of facing my reality. I’d allow outside stressing factors of the diner to distract me. It was so much easier to serve another customer, put in an order, or pour a mug of coffee, and that’s what I grounded myself in instead of facing my reality. The same reality that was about to rip everything from under my feet.

  Time’s up. The sand in the hourglass has poured its last grain. I relish every single memory with Jag as I stride down the sidewalk, and now it’s over. He deserves to hear the truth from me, and that’s what I’m going to do.

  I grasp the chilled door handle with my sweaty palm and swing it open. I walk into a scene that’s not typical. There are no swinging or throttling sounds on the punching bags; it’s dead silent. All eyes turn on me. I freeze.

  The truth of the presence of my past stares me in the face. Jaco whips around. Jag steps in front of him, striding toward me. There’s not a single emotion to be read on his face. His signature shit-eating grin has long vanished, leaving behind determination. Jag has never scared me until now.

  Jaco cuts him off, pushing him to the side. A stranger who must be his partner strides up next to him.

  “Sasha Brown, we have a warrant out for your arrest. You have the right to remain silent and everything…”

  Jaco’s old and abused words dull into a cyclone of nonsense I’ve heard so many times on repeat. It’s not the fact he’s here for me that crushes the remaining pieces of my soul, but Jag’s defeated look on his face.

  My wrists are ripped from my sides and whipped around my back. The familiar feel of cold metal clasps around my bones. I don’t fight. I refuse to, because every single time he wins. Fighting is worthless. A lost cause for the believers who refuse to quit believing. I knew it was coming, could’ve predicted it from the beginning of this story. It was Jag who pried and tugged out the hopeless romantic in me.

  And it’s the same reason I never lift my head to look at him. It’s a cycle. I’m on wash, rinse, and repeat. I dared to hope things would be different because I felt loved, only to have it ripped away.

  Jaco stops and turns back to the gym. “Thank you for your cooperation in putting this menace to society back in jail. Your community is now safe.”

  He jerks on my hands, causing the metal of the cuffs to bite into my flesh. I don’t wince or react, not giving this sick fuck a reaction he’s craving. It doesn’t stop him from leaning forward just enough to hiss in my ear.

  “Got you, Sasha. I said you can run, but I’d always find you.” His tongue darts out, licking the shell of my ear. “Seems another little boy has been found abused and broken, and you match the identity.”

  The sunlight that just warmed my skin as I walked to the gym freezes me to the core. The unidentified car comes into view. Before I’m stuffed in the back seat, Landon steps in front of us, cool as ever.

  “Glad it worked out, nephew. Crazy how life crosses paths. Justice has been served.”

  “You’re right, uncle. I won’t ever be able to repay you.”

  “Jag will never come back from this one. My brother, God rest his soul, would be proud of you, Jaco.”

  I glance over at the other cop or detective. He’s older with salt and pepper hair; aviators cover his eyes with the only sign of his anger in the form of his ticking jaw. He doesn’t seem pleased at all as he scrolls on his iPhone.

  Landon pats Jaco on his back and strides away. Their exchange sinks in. None of it makes
sense. Jaco doesn’t have the last name Chandler, and he was adopted. He didn’t have an uncle named Landon. The shards of the puzzle fall together in hazy view.

  Their identical sharp jawlines, hysterical laugh, and glinting eyes. I don’t ask questions. But I know those two are related somehow. I wrack my brain, processing the years we were married. Jaco’s adopted parents died in a house fire when he graduated from the force. He had no other immediate family members. The entire town in Iowa worshipped at his feet, expressing their sympathy.

  The doors slam as the metal cuffs bite into my wrists. Jaco chuckles as he puts the car in drive.

  “Who knew finding my birth father would lead me to my uncle helping to bring down that cunt?” He hitches a thumb over his shoulder.

  “No shit,” the other man responds.

  “Yeah, found out about six months ago there’s a shit long story about the gym we just walked into and my birth family.”

  “Makes sense why we made it out here from Iowa. Glad there’s a good story behind it all.” The other man glances over to Jaco.

  “Yeah, my birth father died three years ago in a fatal car crash. He left behind two brothers, Monty and Landon Chandler. Dumb bitch in the back ran right into their hands.” Jaco glances at me in the rearview mirror. “Two birds with one stone. Landon needs Jag out of the picture to make better odds for his fighter in Vegas, and Sasha here needs her ass behind bars for the rest of her days.”

  They continue talking as if I wasn’t listening, not leaving out any details.

  The unknown detective runs his hands through his coarse salt and pepper hair. “And you married that bitch not knowing the monster she was?”

  Jaco flicks on the turn signal. “Yeah, fucking nuts, man. I walked in on her one day with a little boy stripped down and Sasha on her knees.”

  I force it out. Guilt washes over me knowing Jag is believing all of this since everyone else did. There’s no point in arguing. My past caught up with me, and it was all over Jag’s face. He believed them.