The Underground: The Complete Series

by Snow, Jenika

  “Your pay will double,” he reminded her.

  She could leave this town even sooner. Could she stomach it though? She remembered all too well the crush of bodies, the deafening noise, the smell of sweat and blood. It was overwhelming, for sure, but all she could think about was the pay and escaping for good.

  Despite her fear and the remembrance of the last time she’d worked the underground still fresh in her mind, it was hard to pass up. She knew what she had to do. Brea knew what she would do.

  “Yes, I’ll work the underground, Tate.”

  His approving smile made her stomach clench, and she had no idea why.

  4

  Adrenaline pumped through Adrian’s veins. Eyes closed, he bounced on the balls of his feet and focused everything inside of him on the night ahead. The small room he currently occupied didn’t dull the roar of the crowd outside. He ran his hands over his short hair and breathed out.

  These fights never failed to pump him up. This was his outlet, his way of getting rid of all his anger, his hatred. Even though he had an insurmountable amount of pent-up rage that would never be purged, he got a minimal amount of relief.

  The sound of his knuckles cracking echoed in the cramped room. He rolled his head on his shoulders, feeling the excitement that these fights caused inside of him skyrocket. He was ready for this, had been ready. He wasn’t nervous. Hell, he was fucking pumped about smashing his fist into some guy’s face.

  Now what the hell did that say about him? The only real competition he’d ever had was a dirty yet talented fighter named Kash Alexander. That boy sure knew how to throw a left hook. If Adrian was being honest with himself, he didn’t even know if he would have won that fight, if it hadn’t been for the fact he’d heard Brea scream, even though the noise had been earsplitting. Kash might have given him a TKO.

  No, he wasn’t going to think about Brea, a female so sweet and innocent that it made him feel like a worthless piece of shit. But thinking about Brea made him think about Addie. The one person he’d given himself to and lost.

  But that had been years ago, and even if he didn’t have love for that life anymore, even if he’d loved her long ago, the guilt of it all, of what he’d allowed to happen, strangled him.

  He wanted to wrap Brea up, protect her from the ugliness of the world, but he knew for both of their sakes he could never do that. Hell, he was part of the ugliness.

  “You ready, boss?” Mica, the newest and youngest fighter in training, stuck his head around the corner and grinned.

  He was a quiet kid with a mop full of ash-colored hair and blue eyes so fucking intense they didn’t look real. He might be one of the silent types, but boy, could that kid kick some ass. He had a body like a swimmer, all lean muscle and stamina, and was faster than anyone Adrian had ever seen. He also knew how to throw a punch in the kidneys to make a man fall to his knees and have him pissing blood for a week.

  “Knock that boss shit off,” Adrian said and grinned. A quick nod from Mica and Adrian was following him out of the door and into the makeshift octagon.

  His opponent was already waiting on him, and Adrian could tell this guy was one tough motherfucker. He was a damn beast.

  Adrian rolled his shoulders back as he climbed the stairs. He could hear the announcer pumping up the crowd, but he didn’t pay any attention to it. All his focus was on the fucker staring him down. He might have been big, but Adrian was bigger and had far more pent-up rage than this pussy.

  They faced each other, and everything else faded away. He took a deep breath, needing those painful memories, needing that rage to consume him so he could use it in the cage.

  But despite thinking about his past, Adrian couldn’t help but picture Brea.

  Her big blue eyes, promising a hell of a lot that he knew he couldn’t take. There were many times he’d wondered how it would play out if he just let himself have her. It had been years since he’d been with a woman, since he’d even been interested in one. He’d focused on fighting, on surviving.

  There had been a time when he’d wanted to die, but as the years passed, things had slowly shifted, especially after he’d seen Brea looking so vulnerable. All he wanted to do was fight, to get out everything that was inside of him until he could live.

  The announcer rang the bell, and his opponent, Slick, grinned and charged forward. These mediocre fighters he was matched with were always the same. Their anger and greed made them sloppy. All they thought about was the payout.

  Adrian didn’t give two shits about the money he would earn tonight. Sure, it helped and was one of the reasons he did these illegal fights, but the real reason he was here was strictly personal.

  Slick swung his meaty fist out, and Adrian easily dodged it. He threw a right hook, landing a solid hit in Slick’s side. A deep grunt was the only response the other fighter made before swinging again.

  Moving to the left, Adrian brought his fist up and connected with his opponent’s jaw. Blood started a slow trickle out of his mouth, and Adrian didn’t wait to land another one on him. Throwing a left punch, he slammed his knuckles into Slick’s nose. Blood sprayed like a fountain and bathed the unfortunate drunks watching on the sidelines. The cheers erupted as Slick swayed slightly.

  He swung first his left arm and then his right toward Adrian. They were easy enough moves to avoid, and Adrian knew he needed to finish this so he could move on to the next sorry fuck. Ducking to avoid getting hit in the head, Adrian slammed his shoulder in Slick’s chest and brought the guy down. They wrestled on the floor for dominance, and finally, when Adrian had the upper hand and straddled the man’s chest, he started throwing fist after fist.

  Blood coated both of their chests, faces, and the white mats beneath them. Slick struggled at first, but soon he was lying limply beneath him. Adrian pulled himself off and took several steps back. A few medics rushed forward to make sure Slick was still breathing.

  Once Adrian was announced the winner, he quickly made his way toward the same back door he’d come through. He needed to get cleaned up and have a few drinks before his next fight.

  Sharps and Coots stopped him with large grins on their faces. “Dude, you’re a fucking monster in the cage.” Coots shoved the envelope into his hand and let Adrian push past them. “Tate is one happy man with you right now. Keep it up, Adrian,” Coots yelled from behind him, but Adrian didn’t bother responding.

  He didn’t like Tate. It had nothing to do with the fact the man was doing all kinds of illegal shit, the underground cage fights only a small portion of it. Tate just seemed like one bad motherfucker. Adrian tolerated him because he used these fights as an outlet and because it saved him from getting into random ones with strangers on the street and being thrown in jail.

  After washing up in the small, industrial, grime-covered bathroom, Adrian put on a pair of jeans and a black tee. He didn’t have another fight for a couple of hours, and he needed to unwind a bit before he got back in the cage.

  After a fight things moved fast for him, a blur of sound and shapes. Muttering his thanks to the spectators that congratulated him, he made his way toward the bar. All he wanted was a few drinks without being bugged. Maybe he shouldn’t show annoyance toward these people. If not for them, he wouldn’t have a job. Despite that knowledge, he still couldn’t muster enough energy to give a fuck.

  “Give me a double of Crown,” he said as he leaned his elbows on the bar and breathed out roughly. The bartender poured him his drink right away, and Adrian shot it back. He tapped his knuckles on the counter to gesture for another.

  “Can I get two Millers, one Corona, and a Ruby Red Slipper?”

  That voice. Adrian would recognize it anywhere. Cutting a glance to the side, he stared at Brea. As if she sensed his gaze, she looked in his direction. Their gazes caught, held.

  They kept looking at each other for long seconds, and it was as if everything else faded for him. There wasn’t a basement full of people. There wasn’t any sound, no distraction from wh
at he really wanted—and that was her. Only her.

  “Order up,” the bartender said, cutting through their moment.

  She stacked her drinks on the tray and headed back into the crowd, giving him one more glance over her shoulder. He hated that she worked at the club, let alone down here where shit got really rowdy. But he also didn’t miss the big, burly fucker who followed her, the white “SECURITY” stamped on the back of his black shirt.

  Good, looked like Tate was at least taking care of her.

  Adrian held the shot glass to his lips and slowly let the alcohol slide down his throat, never taking his gaze off her. Tate had since put a few tables against the walls. She stopped in front of one, deposited two beers, and made her way to the other one filled with men already three-sheets-to-the-wind drunk. It wasn’t his place to watch her like he fucking owned her, but he couldn’t help it, damn it.

  And then, as if time stood still, he saw one of the men slap her ass as she turned to leave. His entire body went tense, and he felt his hands curl into fists.

  Oh hell no.

  The security on her didn’t have time to react, not when Adrian found himself charging over there, ready to beat that drunk fucker down.

  ****

  Brea knew he was going to touch her ass before he actually did it. That was the problem with working with a bunch of inebriated customers. It never failed to result in some kind of harassment. Taking a step to the side, his hand should have slid off her ass, but instead he slapped one side before gripping her waist and pulling her toward him.

  “Come on, baby.” His breath alone could have gotten her drunk. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had a droopy sort of expression on his face. Hell, all the men at his table wore the exact same expression.

  The security Tate had on her moved forward, this pissed-off expression on his face.

  She wouldn’t react. These types of men fed off it.

  “How about something on the side, sugar? How about you with nothing on and spread wide?”

  Before she could push away from him, before the security could help her, she saw Adrian charging forward. He looked ready to kill someone, that rage on his face tangible.

  “Motherfucker,” Adrian said when he was right in front of her, his focus on the drunken asshole who’d touched her. “I should take you out back and break your arms and legs. Maybe slam my fist into both of your eyes.”

  All Brea could do was stare at Adrian. Standing this close to him had her entire body singing with electricity. Has he always been this tall, this broad and muscular? The tendons strained beneath his tanned flesh, and she could see dark lines of ink peeking from beneath the edge of his shirtsleeve. She knew how delicious his body looked with that ink. She’d seen it whenever she closed her eyes.

  The guy that had accosted her visibly swallowed and cut a glance to his buddies, possibly hoping for a little help. His friends knew better, though. They all shifted in their seats and cleared their throats. They knew Adrian. Everyone did that came to these fights. The guard behind her made this gruff sound but didn’t move to stop Adrian from taking this further.

  “Okay, okay. No harm, no foul.” The man who had groped Brea looked genuinely scared shitless. Good.

  “No harm, no foul?” Adrian took a threatening step forward, the menace pouring off him in waves. Was she about to see him fight this guy up close and personal? Outside of the cage?

  “No, it’s fine,” she ended up saying, not wanting this to get bloody. God, she was dizzy, and she couldn’t breathe. Why was it so hot in here?

  Strong arms gripped her shoulders, and then she was being led through the crowd. She smelled him, this scent that calmed her, stabilized her. It was the same masculine, intoxicating aroma that enveloped her, washed through her. How could she forget that scent when it had been the first thing her senses had registered all those weeks ago?

  The night air blew her hair around, and it was then she realized she was outside of the club.

  “Hey, are you okay?” He didn’t touch her again, and she had mixed feelings about that.

  “I’m fine, thank you,” she said as she took a deep breath and finally lifted her gaze to his. He stood several feet away from her, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans, a look of concern etched in his extremely handsome features.

  “I’m sorry about that. It’s just, shit, I saw him touch you and I went off. I couldn’t control myself.”

  Every time she looked at him, even when he was pummeling some guy’s face, she couldn’t help but take note of his raw masculinity. He wasn’t handsome in the classical sense. Not with the rough, sharp planes of his face, his fuller lips that seemed to have a perpetual frown on them, and the hint of a five-o’clock shadow that covered his hard jaw, but he was gorgeous to her nonetheless.

  “No, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

  “You didn’t look fine. Right now you look a little shell-shocked.”

  “I’m good. Dealing with assholes is in the job description.” Her laugh was meant to lighten the situation, but it sounded humorless even to her. “I’m not a head case, really. I’ve just…” No, she’d already said too much. He didn’t need to know about her personal shit, about the baggage she carried. What was wrong with her?

  Shaking her head, she forced herself to hold his gaze. Why did he make her feel so unhinged in the best of ways when no other man had before?

  “I don’t think you acted like a head case.” He grinned down at her, and her heart beat a little faster. “In fact, if it’ll make you smile, I’ll go kick that guy’s ass into next Sunday.”

  Although she knew he’d been about to do just that, his comment held a teasing tone in it, and she couldn’t help but smile.

  “Ahh, there it is.”

  “There’s what?” His focus on her was doing things to her body. Things that excited her but also made her nervous as hell.

  “The smile I’ve been wanting to see.” He ran a hand over his short hair and glanced away from her. Was he actually embarrassed by his comment? “Sorry if that was inappropriate. It’s just”—he paused—“fuck, I’m sorry. I’m acting all weird now.”

  It was almost endearing to see him act so flustered. Adrian was a big man, and all she had ever seen from him was this stone-cold hardness that put lesser men to shame. Now, the way he grinned at her, he almost seemed … boyish.

  “No, it’s fine. You’re acting fine. Listen, thank you so much for helping me out back there. I kind of freaked out, and if you hadn’t helped me, I probably would have still been standing there taking that guy’s shit.” That might not have been the whole truth. Since leaving Cameron, she’d taken a few self-defense classes and knew how to handle herself to an extent. The only problem was her fear always made her immobile, so it was hard for her to put that self-defense training to good use. That was a problem she was going to have to get over fast if she had a chance of surviving. “And thank you for helping me that other time, as well. I feel like you’re starting to be my knight in shining armor.” She felt her cheeks heat.

  He continued to watch her. It had taken a long time for her to get past the abuse from Cameron and realize it wasn’t her fault, that she was a person, too, and deserved to be respected and loved. Maybe one day she would feel like that with another man. Maybe one day she could put her issues aside and actually let herself trust another person.

  As she looked into Adrian’s eyes, ones that she knew were a beautiful blue color but that right now looked black from the shadows, she wished he was the one she could let herself be free with. Here he’d saved her for a second time.

  “Anyway. Thanks again, but I should probably head back in there. I don’t want my boss to get mad at me.” She smiled, hoping to relieve some of the tension she felt was starting to build. “I kind of need this job.”

  “I’m sure Tate will understand.”

  She wasn’t surprised he knew Tate. He was, after all, fighting in the owner’s illegal cage fights. What surprised her though wa
s that he seemed pretty confident that Tate wouldn’t care that one of his employees was outside socializing when they should have been working.

  “Maybe, but I don’t want to test it.” She lifted her hand in a pathetic wave goodbye and turned to go back inside. “I really do owe you for saving me once again. Thank you,” she said over her shoulder.

  “Wait.” He spoke softly, yet that one word had her stopping and glancing over her shoulder.

  Brea desperately wanted to be close to Adrian, which confused her since she knew nothing about him. There was just this connection she felt with him, one that went down to her marrow. Even after everything, she wanted to connect with Adrian, wanted to let him hold her hand, hug her close to his big body, and tell her everything would be okay.

  Stupid girl.

  Brea held her breath, waiting for him to continue.

  “Maybe that payment can be dinner with me.”

  She turned fully around and felt her eyes widen at his proposition.

  She smiled at him, the act almost involuntary as it curved her lips. “Dinner?”

  He let out a breath as if he had been holding it. “Yeah. Just dinner.” He ran his hand over the back of his neck again, and she wondered if it was something he did when he was nervous. “You don’t owe me shit, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’d really like dinner, Brea.”

  The way he said her name, how it rolled off his tongue, had her body heating.

  A beat of silence passed between them and he said, “I mean, you’d be doing me a favor keeping me company. Not many people want that job these days.”

  The laugh that bubbled out of her was completely unexpected. How long had it been since she had laughed? Too damn long for her to remember. In all honesty Adrian was exactly the type of man Brea should stay away from. It was obvious he had his own demons he dealt with, if the way he fought in the cage was anything to go by.