“Holy Sheeeet, he’s fast.” Josh gasped as O’Malley nodded with a ‘told you so’ look on his smug face.
The fighter from Portland was not amused. He quickly rose up and approached Rogan with a little more caution. The master swordsman didn’t wait for the man, launching into this own assault instead. Two inhumanly rapid blows to the man’s gut made him double up, his face going down fast to meet Rogan’s rising knee. His jaw broke with a dull sickening crack as it connected with the warrior’s powerful knee even as Rogan grabbed him by the ears and smashed his forehead into the man’s hapless face.
His large face reduced to a bloody pulp, the Portland fighter went down and stayed very still. The silence that followed could be sliced with a thin blade. Rogan strolled back quietly and took a towel off Vance’s hands and wiped the blood off his hands and chest.
“The fighting Irishman, everybody.” O’Malley yelled out exuberantly. “A new record, twenty one seconds.”
“Did you kill him?” Vance swallowed hard, staring at the very still form of the other fighter as Rogan sipped some water.
“He lives, though his face may not be what it once was.” The brutal warrior grinned. “Now, where is my money, in five fold?”
“You’ve earned it, man.” Vance shook his head. “And there’ll be more, much more.”
“Tonight, we’re going to party.” O’Malley grinned. “With wine, women and song.”
“I’ll take the wine and the song.” Rogan said grimly. “You can keep the Earth maidens.”
“You’re the most peculiar fella I’ve ever met, Irish.” Vance grinned, puffing on a cigar. “But as long as you can knock ‘em dead like that, I got your back.”
“You honor me greatly.” Rogan bowed with a tight smile.
~ ~ ~
Hundreds of men he had slain before and hundreds more he would slay, and yet he felt strange remorse for the fighter whom he had only maimed a few hours ago. There was no honor in beating a man for money - for monetary gain - the warrior knight wrestled with that thought unable to fall asleep.
“What am I to do?” He whispered to himself. “I must return to her… to my Alicia.”
He held the amulet in his hands, feeling the warm glow spread though his veins. It was magical; it had to be. It kept him safe and well. It was her love and nothing else. It was their love and even across the great divide of time their love was strong. Visions of her lovely face filled his eyes with tears. Rogan didn’t care; he let the tears trickled down his rugged face. There was no one there to see him cry, alone in the little room that Vance had gotten for him.
He knew Vance and O’Malley were men of greed and chance, the kind he fought against in Kirk Falls, keeping the Dukedom free of such vices. Yet now his survival and success depended on these very kinds of vermin that he had sworn to eradicate. He sighed deeply, letting the tears flow and filling his mind with his love.
“Alicia, oh my dear sweet Alicia.” He wept. “Will I ever behold you again?”
The amulet began to glow brighter as his eyes grew heavy and mind felt free. Sleep at last had blessed him with her comforting embrace. Rogan smiled. He could feel her now. Alicia was right there with him.He could smell the sweetness of her hair, taste the freshness of her lips. Her large blue eyes filled his heart with longing and love.
“Rogan, my love, my life,” she said. “Where have you been?”
“I was lost for a while, my love.” He replied, reaching for her. “But I am here now, to be with you.”
“Don’t ever leave me again.” Alicia pleaded. “I am so afraid to be alone. It is so cold and dreary without you… please, Rogan, don’t ever leave me.”
“I won’t, my love.” Rogan wept. “I will be with you forever. I will quit the Duke’s service and we will live in peace forever and ever.”
“Oh, Rogan, that will be the happiest day of my life.” Her voice was full of hope.
“I only live for you, Alicia my love.” Rogan reached out and caressed her flushed face.
She responded by moving in close to him, kissing his neck and chin and hugging him tight. Her hands slid over his broad muscular back, caressing over the hard packed muscle. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of her smooth, silky fingers over his battle scarred and callused skin. Her soft warm body pressed against his, filling his mind and soul with a tranquility only being with her would bring.
Rogan suddenly realized that she was naked and so was he. Her tender body trembled against his own naked form. He longed so much to be with her again - to unite with her. His lips found the sensitive hardness of her pink nipples, making her moan and whisper his name into his ear. She spread her legs, inviting his aching hardness into the comforting warmth of her hearth of love. He felt the familiar sensation of her tightness engulf him, grasping, siphoning his erection as always.
Her moans and whimpers of pleasure aroused him and he moved in rhythmic union with her. His love for her swelled within her, filling her with satisfaction and she told him so, kissing and pecking him all over his face as he brought her to an orgiastic bliss.
“Oh Rogan, forever we are one.” Alicia said softly.
“Yes, my love… forever and ever… across all time.” He mumbled, feeling loved and safe within her.
“Rogan… my dear heart… my one and only.” Alicia’s voice, sweet and tender, seemed to be getting fainter.
Rogan opened his eyes and froze in horror. He could see her, blissfully writhing in pleasure, but under another man. He couldn’t see the face of the other as he seemed to float above them. He called out to her frantically, but she seemed oblivious of him, focusing only on the man who made love to her.
“No! No! No!” Rogan screamed and sat up in a cold sweat. “Alicia! No!”
It was still dark outside and a cold chill blew in from the crack in the window. Rogan sat up and clawed at the sheets. It was a dream, a nightmare, and yet it seemed so real. He clutched at the glowing talisman, Alicia’s sweet face filling his mind. Had he truly lost her forever? His heart weighed down heavily, but he kept firm his resolve to return. Steeling himself, for he knew many more of such dreams would haunt him until he found a way back home, Rogan stepped out of the little room and set off on a brisk run to have the cold air clear his mind.
~ ~ ~
“Rogan, the fighting Irishman.” O’Malley grinned. “Sixteen fights, all won under two minutes.”
“And over three hundred grand earned.” Vance added. “You’ve got the bigwigs taking notice, my man.”
“Yeah, way to move on up, Rogan.” O’Malley was all smiles. “You’ve been promoted to the big league.”
“Haven’t I made enough to go to Ireland and search for Kirk Falls yet?” Rogan said through gritted teeth.
“Well, technically yes, but you don’t have any legal documents.” O’Malley offered, in matter-of- fact manner. “So that’s going to cost a lot more to get you home.”
“But don’t beat yourself up over it… we’re in the top tier of underground fighting now, Irish.” Vance pumped his fist in the air. “What we’ve earned these last two weeks, we’re going to make in each fight from now on.”
“How many more fights do I have to win before I can have the required wealth to leave this place?” Rogan sighed, scratching the stubble on his chin.
“I’d say a dozen more, at a hundred grand a piece.” Vance thoughtfully crunched the numbers. “A cool million would get you far - far and away from here.”
“Then let’s get on with this.” The warrior knight said impatiently.
“All in good time, my highland friend.” The fat fight promoter laughed and picked up the phone. “Tonight, we’ll have you up against an interstate champion. The guy’s trained in all forms of martial arts… but for you, he’ll be easy meat.”
“I honor all my opponents with a swift death, and in this case, defeat.” Rogan gave the fat man a cold glare as he dialed on his phone.
“That’s mighty fine of you, Rogan.” O’Mall
ey stepped in, trying to calm the huge warrior down. “Tonight, we’re going to Blaine Towers, where the big money fights are on every Saturday night.”
“I am ever ready” Rogan exhaled deeply, taking the amulet in his hand and staring at it sadly.
“We’re all set.” Vance hung up the phone. “Ten tonight; and Lenora Devine is going to be there.”
“The Lenora Devine?” O’Malley’s blue eyes lit up. “We’ve got it made, Rogan.”
“Who is this Lenora Devine?” Rogan growled, picking up a pastrami sandwich.
“Well, in a way that you would understand, Highlander.” O’Malley smirked. “She’s the Queen; she controls everything that we do here.”
“And she will preside over this fight?” The warrior knight raised an eyebrow.
“She always does at Blaine Tower.” Vance nodded. “That’s where the big money flows and we’ve been invited to come get some. And Rogan, maybe you’d like to wear down your opponents a little. You know, put on a show. Make it look like they have a fair chance before you utterly destroy them.”
“I do not take pleasure in toying with my opponents.” Rogan replied coldly.
“Maybe you should consider doing it here, the money’s not just in the winning but more so in the show…” Vance pressed. “And the charismatic appeal of the fight.”
“Doing so will get me more wealth?” Rogan looked skeptical.
“Yes, it will.” O’Malley joined in. “Beating your opponents faster than the bets come in does make it harder for the spectators to enjoy the fight. After all, that’s what they are paying for.”
“I might then consider it, starting tonight.” The flame haired fighter looked pensive.
“Well said.Now, let’s get a move on. It’s an hour’s drive to Blaine.” O’Malley smiled broadly.
~ ~ ~
The slender fighter’s eyes narrowed in frustration. His snake-like body, whip-lean and tight, moved with practiced ease and yet, he found it hard to match the larger man’s speed. Hector Arroyo was a master of seven deadly styles of martial art, but he found it near impossible to get a bead on his huge flame haired opponent. Rogan the fighting Irishman was unlike anyone he had ever fought before. For more than ten minutes, he ducked and weaved around the larger man, unable to land a blow. And to his frustrated surprise, Rogan kept holding back, never taunting, never teasing, just being an aggravating elusive target.
Rogan yawned and glanced to his right. Vance and O’Malley nodded their approval of his restrained fighting style that evening. It made the crowd’s anticipation increase and the betting more alive. But he had had enough of this playing around. With a sudden explosive lunge, he speared into his opponent, lifting him off his feet and dashing him down hard on the ground. Hector gasped as the wind was knocked out of him. Flat on his back the last thing he saw was Rogan’s ham sized fist accelerating towards his face before darkness took him.
“Hurrah, for the fighting Irishman.” O’Malley yelled, stepping into the ring and encouraging the crowd to cheer.
Vance followed the shorter man in, staring apprehensively at the bloodied champion fighter lying unconscious in the corner of the elevated platform. Rogan had proved himself once again and they were all a few hundred grand richer.
“It is done.” Rogan said softly. “I have done my part as promised. Now let us depart.”
“This is only the beginning, fella.” Vance spoke up. “The first step on a ladder leading straight up.”
“To a life of fame and fortune.” O’Malley smiled, patting the huge warrior on the small of his back.
“Eddie Vance.” A sharp voice called out, making the three men turn around.
“Ah, Angelo… so good to see you again.” Vance’s thin lips curled into a wider smile on his fat face. “How is Miss Lenora Devine?”
“She is fine, Vance.” Angelo replied tersely. “And she has accepted your offer.”
“We had no doubts about that.” O’Malley piped up.
“Yes, but before we go any further, she requests to meet with your fighter… in private.” The slender young man in at the tight maroon suit nodded with an air of arrogance.
“Lead the way, kind sir.” Rogan eyed the man coldly. The man reminded Rogan of a reptile, the kind he would like to crush underfoot.
Angelo nodded and set off briskly with Rogan following him. Vance had a big grin on his face, but O’Malley sported a clouded look.
“We’ve got it made, Rippy.” The fat promoter clapped his hands. “And so has he, by the sound of it.”
“I’m not too sure about this, Ed.” O’Malley nervously licked his lips. “Our boy’s not exactly shown his need for the finer things in life… and you know what Lenora wants out of this.”
“Don’t sweat it, short-stuff.” Vance laughed and turned to head for the bookies to collect. “He’ll do want she wants.”
O’Malley said nothing more, silently watching the huge fighter walking away with Lenora Devine’s assistant. They turned the corner and stepped into her private elevator, moving out of his line of sight.
“So where are you from?” Angelo punched the elevator button and asked the brooding giant. “Not from around here, I can tell.”
“Ireland.” Rogan replied impassively. “What does this Lenora Devine wish of me?”
“Miss Devine.” Angelo stressed. “Always likes to inspect her investment first hand. You know she has paid near to a million for you.”
“Aye, but I am yet to see some of that wealth.” Rogan glared at the other man’s reflection in the full length mirrored walls of the elevator.
“Oh, you will, you will.” The slender man stepped out of the elevator on the desired floor. “And more - much more.”
Rogan followed him silently as they walked over a red carpeted floor. Angelo opened a large highly polished wooden door and led him into a lavishly decorated office. He looked around in awe.Even Duke Edenton was not in possession of such opulence.
“Angelo darling, what have you got for me?” A rich, lilting voice drew his attention to the large table in the center of the room. The view of the big city lit up at night through the great window behind the speaker was spectacular.
“Ah, Miss Devine.” Angelo fawned. “I have here with me, Rogan the fighting Irishman.”
“Milady.” Rogan bowed low with one hand on his chest.
“Oh, how delightfully chivalrous.” The woman rising up from the chair laughed a shrill silver-bell like chime.
Rogan stood up straight as she stepped up to him. She was older than him, but knew well to conceal her age and appear younger. She wore a body fitting white dress lined with silver and pearls, cut low in front to reveal the lush outer curves of her full, rounded breasts. Her face was pleasant to behold, probably once naturally beautiful, yet now relying on other means to retain that charm. Long slits down the sides of her flowing gown revealed powerful shapely legs and wide flaring hips. She had one of those a lit tobacco sticks in her slender fingers called cigarettes and eyed him as if he were a hunk of beef at the butcher’s.
“That will be all, Angelo.” She purred, moving even closer to the tall warrior knight.
The slender assistant nodded and swiftly left without a backward glance. Rogan watched him leave and turned his gaze back to her. She was almost a hair’s breath away from him and he could feel the hot air as she blew smoke out of her lips and nostrils.
“You’re a big one, aren’t you?” she said huskily.
“So I’ve been told.” He nodded, well aware that her intentions were at par with so many of the fairer sex back in Kirk Falls and the other regions in his time.
“Irish, they also say… and with that sexy accent,” She traced a slender well manicured finger along the underside of his dense pectoral muscle. “I like big men who know to fight. And you are the best fighter I have ever seen in my ten years in this shitty business.”
“I am honored, milady.” He nodded slowly.
“Call me Lena and you can knock o
ff the act.” She smiled, heading back to her desk, swaying her full hips as she walked. “I’ve heard about this amnesia thing that’s been going around about you and I don’t buy it. You’ve got a past to hide and I couldn’t care less.”
“I was told that you are a queen, Lena?” Rogan asked skeptically.
“A queen?” She laughed that silvery chime again as she walked back to him with a slender glass of bubbling drink. “Yes, I might as well be one. With the kind of power I have now, I can get anything I want.”
Rogan was confused, but didn’t show it. This was a strange world he found himself in and playing along was the best chance he had. But it was clear that this Lenore Devine was interested in more than his fighting skills and he didn’t want anything to hinder his chance of finding his way back home - back to his beloved Alicia. He accepted the strange drink she offered him and took a sip of the mild liquid. It made his throat even dryer than it had been.
Choosing Hearts - The Fighter's Passion (Gritty, Explicit Romance Novel) (A Lusty Stand Alone Story) Page 7
