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Game Page 3

by London Casey


  I turned and walked back to the truck. I went toward the passenger side to open the door and check on Shayna. To let her know everything was still okay. That it was just my buddy coming to check on things.

  Christ, my head still spun over the fact that she had flashed that Vale guy to confuse him and then jumped into the bed of my truck.

  Were her tits really that nice? That they froze some guy in his tracks?

  I made fists and shook my head.

  This was how I ended up in trouble before. It was always a wild night that led to something more wild. That’s where I went wrong once before and it’s where I wouldn’t go wrong now.

  Bottom line - Shayna had to go. Right now.

  I’d take her to a motel or something. She could call a friend for help.

  I wasn’t going to be her friend. I wasn’t going to…

  Something hit the side of my head and sent me stumbling.

  I guess the night’s not over.

  ~

  “Finn!” a voice yelled.

  I turned and rushed toward my attacker.

  I put my hands to the truck to stop myself when I realized it was goddamn Shayna with that goddamn gun again.

  “You hit me in the head?” I asked.

  “I thought you were someone else,” she said.

  The left side of my head throbbed.

  She stood with an attempted defiance, keeping the gun pointed at me.

  “Are you insane?”

  “No,” she said. “I’m trying to get out of this.”

  “You jumped into my truck.”

  “After I ran away from Zander to save you. He was going to kill you.”

  “I can handle myself,” I said.

  “Yeah, sure. Who was that in the other truck?”

  “My girlfriend,” I said.

  “Oh.” Shayna’s face dropped.

  I shook my head again. “Shit, sweetie, it was my buddy, Cormac. He was there with me. We were having a few beers when all hell broke loose. I sent him away though. He doesn’t need the heat. He’s clean. A straight fighter.”

  “A straight fighter?”

  “You know what that means,” I said. “He’s above ground. Legal boxing and MMA. Smart guy.”

  “And you’re not?”

  I gritted my teeth. “I don’t think I am… you still have that gun and you keep hitting me.”

  I inched closer to Shayna and then caught myself. I pushed from the truck and opened the passenger door. “Get inside.”

  She slithered by me, still pointing the gun at me.

  This woman was bold, annoying as shit, but crazy pretty. And pretty crazy.

  I walked around the truck and got into the driver’s seat. I touched the left side of my head. Now I’d have another mark to explain to Fiore. Not only had I gone to an illegal fight not sanctioned by Fiore, but I had fought, gotten hurt, won the fight, shot a few guys, escaped with bullets flying around me, and then got hit in the head with a gun by a beautiful woman.

  That’s Finn…

  I started to drive again.

  Shayna had the gun at me the entire time.

  “How far?” she asked.

  “Far enough.”

  “I have a gun.”

  “I know that. Tell that to the side of my fucking head.”

  “Look, I’m sorry. I freaked out.”

  “Yeah, I got that part.”

  “Finn, he’s a crazy man. Zander. He’s connected…”

  “I’ll deal with all that tomorrow,” I said. “I just want to grab a shower and get some sleep.”

  “Okay,” Shayna said.

  We were in silence again. Then a small noise began. I moved my eyes to the right and saw her blinking away tears.

  Christ, of all things now…

  Under different circumstances I would have reached across and touched her leg. Squeezed her leg to see if she was ticklish. Said something flirty, dumb, or just plain inappropriate to get her to smile. But she was the one with a gun pointed at me. She was the one who wanted to command control. So fuck it. Let her cry her damn eyes out, I didn’t care.

  I pulled up to the cabin and then pulled around to hide my truck. We were safe. That much I had to believe or else I wasn’t going to get a second of sleep. And I had a fucked up day waiting for me tomorrow. Hell, I was surprised that my cell wasn’t going crazy yet. A gunfight at an underground fight was big news to spread. Especially with me crashing another crew’s night.

  What the hell was I thinking?

  “Come on,” I said, “I’ll give you the tour.”

  I got out of the truck and met Shayna at the back. She quickly lifted the gun again. We walked together to the front of the cabin. I never brought women here. This was a safety zone for me. I had worked my fucking ass off earlier in life to build this cabin. Because it had dreams attached to it. Dreams that were…

  “Are we going inside or what?”

  I looked back at Shayna. “Are you forcing me to open the door?”

  “Yeah, maybe I am.”

  I opened the door and flicked on the lights. We stepped inside. I hadn’t been there in a while. There was nothing special about the place other than what it was supposed to be.

  Shayna stepped into the cabin and another switch flipped.

  The one in my head.

  This was my fucking cabin. This was my fucking home. And she was not going to run the fucking night.

  Shayna looked at me and a wave of relief crashed upon her face.

  Yeah, sweetie, home sweet home.

  I turned, put Shayna against the wall with one hand and then grabbed the gun from her with the other hand.

  “Now you’re mine,” I growled as my finger touched the trigger.

  8.

  (Shayna)

  I didn’t know whether to say my last prayers or thrust forward at him. He was that close, that bold, and that goddamn sexy. And he had a gun on me. My gun. Well, the gun I took from Vale. The gun I had been pointing at him. The gun I hit him with.

  “Finn…”

  “No,” he said. His free hand touched my stomach. He didn’t do anything sexual, but everything about him oozed with sexual implication. “You’re going to give me what I want.”

  His hand lifted my shirt. His fingertips grazed my bare skin. I shivered and my toes curled tight. He moved his hand around to my lower back and down. When his hand cupped my ass, I sucked in a breath. His hand touched the other side of my ass. Then around to my thighs and legs.

  He was checking me. Not hitting on me.

  I started to blush when he took his hand away.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You like when I touch you?”

  “Fuck you,” I said. “If you’re going to shoot, hurry up and do it.”

  Finn inched closer to me. He smelled of fight and sweat. It was all man, all muscle, every sense of temptation that I did not need to face right now. I needed to escape. I needed to find somewhere to hide out until I could figure out what to do next.

  “Why did you do that tonight?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I… he was going to kill you no matter what, Finn.”

  “So you’re my savior now?”

  “I didn’t say that. I just got tired of seeing him do that. And then he put me up as a prize. For what? So he could pass me around like some toy? No. I don’t do that. Maybe his other women do that stuff, but not me. I’m not a whore.”

  Finn lifted the gun. My body tensed. I couldn’t get a sense of his eyes or what he would do to me. Half crazy, mostly sexy, and that was a deadly combination. He left my body raging to be touched again, but my mind tried to force sense into the situation.

  The gun was inches from my face. Finn pressed a button or something and there was a metallic click sound. I turned my head and winced, waiting for the bullet to get me. But if he shot me, I wouldn’t hear anything, right? I’d be dead before…

  The magazine fell from the gun. Finn now had the gun in two pieces.
>
  “There,” he said. “No more weapons for tonight. Agreed?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “Good. I’m going to build a fire, sweetie. Then we have to talk.”

  Finn pressed his lips to my cheek and then backed away. I was frozen in as a chill ran through my body, fighting with the heat Finn left behind.

  He took his leather jacket off and tossed it over the back of a recliner. His arms filled out a black t-shirt way too nicely. He was thick with muscle everywhere, his left arm filled with tattoos that went down to his wrist. It was some kind of wild design with twists, turns, and loops. I suddenly pictured myself tracing the design with my finger. While I was naked. In bed with him.

  He put the gun and the magazine on a table and went to the fireplace. Grabbing a piece of wood, he put it on the stone ledge in front of the fireplace. He took a small axe and lifted it up in the air. The defined cut of muscles and throbbing veins was enough to drive a decent woman to the naughtiest places in her mind. The axe came down and the wood shattered into two pieces.

  Finn repeated the same thing two more times and then piled the wood in the fireplace. He grabbed some small sticks and put them in. Next he had a lighter and a minute later, there was a fire.

  Just like that.

  He stood and turned, facing me. That black t-shirt did nothing good for my eyes and body. His shoulders were as wide as the front of his pickup truck. When he made fists, his veins throbbed even more. His body had a monstrous look to it. But his face… he was a cocky asshole. His hair was slicked back with a steel cut, clean jaw. His eyes were dark and beady, the kind of eyes that would tell anyone to just keep walking. The kind of guy nobody’s parents wanted them to be with. That didn’t matter for me because I had no parents. I had nobody. Right now, the only person I had was him. Finn.

  “Sit down,” he ordered.

  I stepped to the couch and sat.

  Finn blocked the fire and crossed his arms. He stared at me.

  “What’s your plan?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. You wanted out. You got out. Now what?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know, Finn. I didn’t plan that. It just happened.”

  “Of all fucking nights,” he said. “Of all people. You don’t realize what you just stepped into with me. You can sleep here tonight but then you’re gone tomorrow.”

  “I have nowhere to go.”

  “Not my problem.”

  Wow. Nice. Thanks.

  “Finn… he’ll find me and kill me.”

  “Again, not my problem.”

  “You’re an asshole.” I stood up and balled my right hand into a tight fist.

  “Feel better?” he asked.

  “No,” I said.

  I started to move my fist and then Finn made his move. I should have known better than to mess with a fighter. Finn grabbed my fist and spun me around. His other hand went across my chest and he pulled me to his body. Christ, he was made of solid muscle. All solid muscle. All beautiful muscle.

  His lips touched my ear. “For tonight, you can stay here. Tomorrow you need to have somewhere to go. That’s my final decision, sweetie. You don’t understand who I am or what I do. I have a really shitty day tomorrow. I’ll probably end up dead tomorrow. That’s the truth. I shouldn’t have been at that fight tonight. And then I got dragged into a fight because I looked at you. You did all this.”

  “Blame me, fine,” I said. “I don’t care.”

  “But I got my prize, right?” his voice purred into my ear. “My fucking prize.”

  Finn moved away from me. His back was to me as he reached for the gun. He put the clip back into it and had it fully loaded again. He tucked the gun into the back of his jeans.

  He looked back at me. “You’re not one of them though. You don’t have the look or the accent. You were hiding there.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I have my own personal reasons, Finn. But you don’t care, remember?”

  “That’s right. I don’t.”

  He then walked toward a door and opened it. “That’s the only bedroom in the cabin. One bed.”

  “Is that how you pick up women? Get them to sleep with you?”

  Finn smirked. “You caught me.”

  “Well, good try. I’ll take the couch.”

  “You sure about that? Could be dangerous if we get attacked again.”

  I looked back at the door. Then at Finn.

  Shit. He was right.

  I composed myself and walked toward him. I was just a foot away. “Fine. I’ll take the bed. You can sleep on the floor.”

  “I have the gun now, sweetie. You’re not in control anymore.”

  “So I’m sleeping on the floor?” I asked.

  “In the bed, with me.”

  “Not a chance.”

  Finn smirked again.

  Yeah, the smoothness may have gotten him places with other women, but for me, I was more attracted to the cuts and bruises on his face.

  I reached up and touched the side of his head. “Doesn’t it hurt? To fight?”

  “Hurts like hell,” he said. “You know what hurts worse?”

  “What?”

  “The fact that all those guys got to see your tits and I didn’t.”

  “Oh?”

  “I was behind you. I saw nothing.”

  “Damn,” I said. “That’s too bad.”

  I started to walk into the bedroom and Finn put his arm across the doorway, blocking me. “Too bad for yourself. Enjoy the couch.”

  “Really?”

  “Unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  Finn eyed down at my chest then back to my eyes.

  “Are you fucking serious?” I asked. “You want me to flash you? How old are you?”

  Finn shrugged his shoulders. “It’s only fair. I saved your life.”

  “Correction. I saved your life.”

  “Correction. You’re in my cabin. Alive. Safe. With a warm fire.”

  I curled my lip. I stepped back and grabbed the bottom of my shirt. “Fine.”

  I started to lift and Finn let out a laugh. He hurried at me, putting his hands to my bare, exposed skin. He pushed at me, making me let my shirt go and grab his shoulders as I thought I was going to fall.

  His hands slid up my shirt, his thumbs touching the bottom of my bra.

  He grinned with the worst intentions that could end up being my best fantasy.

  “Sleep in the fucking bed,” he whispered. “I’ll take the couch and make sure everything is good.”

  “You don’t…”

  Finn spun me around and let me go. He walked away with the butt of the gun hanging out of his back pocket. Christ, why was it so sexy to see? I’d dealt with men and guns for a long time being tied to Zander but Finn was…

  I heard a door slam.

  A second later water turned on.

  I gripped the doorway to the bedroom and bit my lip. He was in the bathroom, naked. I casually reminded myself that this wasn’t some date or some kind of hookup. This was a serious thing.

  I waited right there until he was done.

  He came out of the bathroom in a towel and nothing else.

  My eyes widened at the sight of his body. Smooth, cut with muscle, lines that climbed out of the towel and drew the rest of the magnificent sight before my eyes. Up to his perfect chest, cutting across to his shoulders… his right arm bare, his left arm - from shoulder to wrist - covered in the tribal design tattoo.

  I couldn’t walk because I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe because of the deep surge within my core. My toes curled as a throb began between my thighs. A pulsing ache that ended up leaving my panties tugging against my body.

  “You okay?” Finn asked.

  “Yeah,” I lied.

  I was not okay. Not at all.

  Between the night and Finn… between my body and mind…

  I was so fucking far from okay.

  And I was going to ma
ke it worse because there was no way in hell Finn was going to ditch me.

  He went into the bedroom and dropped the towel. His ass was perfectly cut, curved, and thick with muscle.

  No way in hell he’s ditching me…

  I wanted to do much more now than just flash him.

  9.

  (Finn)

  The coffee tasted like shit. But it was coffee.

  Night had come and gone without any problems. Nobody found the cabin and attacked us.

  I was alone; Shayna was still in the bedroom, presumably sleeping.

  I finished my coffee and walked to the window.

  Nothing was supposed to be like this. That was the most fucked up part of it all. I was never supposed to get involved with Fiore. I was never supposed to turn into his prized fighter. I was never supposed to be wanted, demanded, showcased in underground illegal fighting. Some kind of outlaw celebrity with a clean cut face and a chip on his shoulder.

  I had been straight, like Cormac. I had been right there, right at the cusp of it all. Standing in the corner of a ring, eyeing my opponent, studying his arms, legs, muscles, his scars. Knowing every fear and weakness of his that was about to step into the middle of the ring. And then I would exploit it. If they were lucky, they’d get knocked the fuck out. If they were tough enough to stay afloat, they’d still leave defeated, with a hell of a lot more wounds than they intended.

  But it was all taken away. Stripped away. Ripped away.

  Completely fucking destroyed.

  I looked around the kitchen.

  This was going to be a getaway. A place to hide from the busy world and busy life. A place to come and beat up on pieces of firewood instead of other people. A place to call home.

  I sighed and knew none of it really mattered. The past was gone. Long gone. This was about reality now. I had to go face Fiore and figure out what to do next. If I didn’t go see him, he’d come looking for me. One thing I learned was that if you fucked up, you better tell Fiore. If he caught you hiding or lying, you were done. And Fiore wasn’t the type to just kill someone. He had some pretty gross techniques to keep someone alive for a long time before they ultimately let go.

 

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