by L. P. Dover
He tossed the bag in the back and passed me a blindfold. “Put this on.”
I did as he said and sat back in the seat. “What’s going to happen when we get there?”
“Scar’s going to go over everything with you and then we’re going to put you in the cell so our bidders can take a look at you. If you do as he says, the night should be over pretty quickly and you can go back home.”
“What if it doesn’t?” I asked. “What happens to me if I don’t win the fight?” Scar never went into detail on what would happen if I lost. He only told me what I was going to be doing. There was a reason he wouldn’t tell me beforehand. I was just hoping Red would tell me.
“I suggest you do whatever it takes to win, but I’m going to let Scar be the one to give you details on what happens if you lose.”
Leaning my head against the seat, I took slow deep breaths and cleared my mind. I needed to concentrate on the task at hand. It was hard to do at the current moment. Red kept quiet the rest of the way which suited me just fine, and when the truck started to slow I knew we were there.
“Keep the blindfold on until I take it off,” he commanded. He got out of the truck and a few seconds later, my door opened and he grabbed my arm, helping me out. His hold was a little too tight, most likely because he thought I would run away. There was traffic noise around, but it was muted by the walls surrounding us. Feeling the stuffiness of the air and the light draft on my skin, I’d guess we were inside a vacant building, probably an industrial warehouse. However, there was a scent in the air that I could definitely place; we were still by the coast.
Voices spoke around me, but I didn’t concentrate on them. I hated being blindfolded and I hated it when Paxton made me wear one last time. It made me feel vulnerable and weak, leaving everyone else the advantage. Another few steps and Red guided me into a smaller room, shutting the door behind us and releasing the blindfold. I had to blink a few times to get used to the light, but when my vision cleared, Scar was sitting behind a desk with a smirk on his face.
“Welcome, Miss Reynolds,” he greeted. Red pointed to the plush leather seat and I reluctantly sat, glaring at them both. “Do you have any questions for me?”
“What ignorant jackass am I fighting, and can I cut off his dick?” I’d tried my best not to think about my opponent because Scar happily informed me yesterday that I wouldn’t be fighting women, but men. Disgusting, vile men who want to manhandle women.
Scar bellowed so loud it hurt my ears. “You’re one feisty little fighter. I like it. But no, you can’t cut off their dicks, unless you can rip them off with your bare hands. There are going to be no weapons allowed in the ring. Remember, I need you to be scared. Let them push you around a bit. Make them think they have the upper hand. At the first sign of blood, it’s over. They know this.”
He slid a picture my way and tapped it with his finger. “This is who you’ll be fighting tonight. He’s thirty-eight years old and an obnoxious bastard. He owns a car dealership and thinks he’s God’s gift to women.”
I looked at the picture and snorted in disgust. He was overweight with a beer gut the size of a watermelon. The guy could crush me if he got me down on the mat. “He looks disgusting,” I spat, sliding the picture back. “Let me guess, he thinks he’s God’s gift to women, but can’t get any and wants to take it out on some helpless female.”
“Basically,” Scar agreed. “He’s slow as fuck, so your speed will help you out. All I ask is to make your struggle believable. One hit to that fucker’s nose and you’ll win. The people just want to see a helpless woman fight. They don’t need to know who you really are.”
“You’re sick, you know that? How much are you getting off of this?”
His smile faded. “That’s none of your business, little girl.”
About that time, the door burst open and none other than Camden Jameson strolled in. His blond hair was a little longer than usual, and in messy spikes. From his side profile I could see the jagged scar going from his forehead down to his cheek. “Okay, so what exactly are you planning tonight? This douchebag out there says he’s getting in the ring with a fucking woman. What retarded bitch would want to fight that jackass?” When his gaze caught mine, his eyes went wide. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Striker, so nice of you to barge in,” Scar muttered. “I brought in Gabriella to fight said jackass. She owes me.”
“And you couldn’t find another hard headed idiot to do the job? You do realize who her contacts are, don’t you? If anyone gets wind of her being here, they’ll come after you and everyone else here.”
Scar sat back in his chair and clasped his hands under his chin. “I’m well aware of that, but she knows what’s at stake. If she talks, then Reaper pays the price.”
Camden scoffed and turned to me. “Since when do you care about Paxton?”
“Since they started fucking,” Scar finished.
Rolling my eyes, I clenched my teeth to keep from saying something unintelligent. They could say whatever they wanted.
“Great,” Camden snarled. “This is going to be one hell of a clusterfuck.”
“Yeah, I’d say so, considering Rage wants her. He’s none too pleased about this new development with Reaper.”
“What does he have to do with this?” Camden narrowed his eyes.
This time, I spoke up. “I’d like to know the same thing. You never told me what happens to me if I lose a fight.”
“Why, you go to Rage,” Scar informed the room. “It was his idea to bring you in, so I let him make the rules.”
“Hell no,” Camden shouted, stepping forward. “You can’t let her go to that psycho. I wouldn’t send a whore his way, much less a woman of worth.”
For Camden to come to my aid, meant my situation was beyond bad. Now I was completely and utterly terrified. Jumping to my feet, I felt sick to my stomach, but even more so, I was furious. “I didn’t agree to be passed on to some lunatic, like a skank-ass whore. This is my life we’re talking about. I agreed to help you recoup your money. I don’t owe you anything else.”
“I’m doing you a favor, Miss Reynolds,” Scar retorted. “Rage wants you, but he knows the deal. In my house, he has to play by the rules. He’s agreed to the terms. At least this way, you can escape from him. If you win, he lets you go. I can’t promise he’ll leave you alone once you’re free, but for now you will be.” He then turned his cold, heartless eyes to Camden. “And if you want to fight him for her, that’s your deal; but if he doesn’t agree to the fight, the rules still stand. She will go to him if she loses.”
Clenching his jaw, Camden turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him. For once in my life, I wanted him to come back and tell me it would be okay. That had always been Ryley’s job, but it looked like his brother was my only hope. I had no one else to turn to.
“What is he so upset about?” I demanded. “What’s so bad about Rage, other than his name and the fact he’s a psycho stalker?”
“I hope you never find out. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I thought you would lose.”
“Great, thanks for the vote of confidence,” I muttered.
Scar smirked and then nodded at Red. “Take her to the room.” Then to me, he said, “And while you’re in there, try to make it look believable.”
Red grabbed my arm and pulled me out the door. I had hoped Camden would be just outside, but he wasn’t. I guess he wasn’t going to help me after all.
THE ROOM THEY put me in was different from the ones they had in Las Vegas. This time I could see and hear everyone who came past to make their bids. None of them could see my face though, as I was cowered in the corner with my head down. Little did they know I wasn’t weak, or that I was seething inside. I hated them all. Their excitement over watching a man beat a woman was disgusting and depraved.
Over time, their murmurs faded and then disappeared. It wasn’t long after that when Red opened the door.
“It’s time to go,�
�� he said.
My thoughts strayed to Paxton. I hated not being there to watch him race, but if I didn’t fight, he wouldn’t be able to have any more of them. By the soulless look in Scar’s eyes, he contained very little humanity. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d killed at least a dozen men, maybe more. I knew he wouldn’t have an issue going after Paxton. Getting to my feet, I kept my head down and trudged over to the door.
“Remember, I need you to be reluctant when I force you into the ring.”
“Act like a scared little girl. Give the disgusting pigs what they want. Got it,” I snapped. He stopped me by the door and I could hear the shouts of excitement on the other side. “What you people do is revolting. I’d like to see you get up in the ring with me.”
“Is that a challenge?” he asked, his lip tilting up devilishly.
“Take it for what it’s worth. I just know someone needs to teach you all a lesson.” There was no way I could win against someone like him, but it sure would feel good to get one hit in. Stretching my arms overhead, I rolled my shoulders and snapped my neck to each side. I was ready to go. “Let’s get this over with so I can go home.”
“As you wish,” he chuckled.
It was show time.
He grabbed both of my arms and I kicked and yelped as he threw the door open, dragging me inside. I’d left my hair down so it could cover the furiousness in my gaze. If looks could kill, everyone in the room would be dead. Through my hair I could see a row of women sitting in the ‘victory’ section by the ring. They were the women men had gambled with. What woman in her right mind would want to go to that fat, perverted bastard in the ring?
Red pushed me into the cage, making me fall to the mat. Here we go. Brushing the hair out of my face, I looked up in time to see the fat bastard heading my way, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. He grabbed a handful of my hair and lifted me to my feet, pulling me into him. It hurt like a bitch and I screamed when I could feel it tearing out of my scalp.
“You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you? It’s a shame I can’t take you home with me.” His breath smelled like stale coffee and eggs.
“Thank God for small favors,” I hissed low. I wanted to vomit in his face, but he jerked me around by the hair, throwing me down on the mat. Scar was sitting by the ring, surrounded by other men, including Camden and another guy wearing a dark hood hung low over his face. It made me wonder if it was Rage under there.
All this fat fucker had to do was make me bleed and it would all be over. I was surprised my head wasn’t bleeding, but thankfully, my hands came back clean. Before I could get to my feet, he grabbed my ankles and slid me to him, collapsing on my body. The breath whooshed out of my lungs and I gasped for air.
“Let’s see here. How am I going to make you bleed?” His hard cock pressed into my thigh and in that moment, things were seriously getting fucked up, fast. There were plenty of ways he could make me bleed and I wasn’t about to let him try any of them.
I wriggled underneath him and halfheartedly tried to fight him off. He laughed at my failed attempts, infuriating me more. What if I wasn’t a fighter? What if I was really a helpless girl who was being used and abused like this?
His hand slid down to my breast and he squeezed, pushing it up to where it almost popped out of my shirt. “My wife never lets me bite her,” he murmured, staring hypnotically at my skin. “Just thinking about sinking my teeth into your flesh is making me so fucking hard.”
Eyes wide, there was no way in hell I was going to let him bite me. Licking his lips, he grabbed me by the shoulders, opening his mouth wide. Before he could strike, I looked over at Scar who nodded his head. Not like I was looking for his approval, but I was letting him know I wasn’t going to take anymore.
My arms were restrained, but I still had my hands. It just so happened, I didn’t have to play fair. I could be as dirty as I wanted and by God I was going to punish this fucker. Gripping his dick as hard as I could, I squeezed, twisted, and pulled until his body convulsed and he fell over, shouting in agony.
Quickly getting to my feet, I didn’t waste any time before drawing the blood I needed to win. Swinging my leg up, I brought it straight down with punishing force, slamming my heel into his nose. Blood sprayed across the mat and the nasty bastard was done; I had knocked his ass out.
Sighing in relief, I fell to my knees and silently prayed to God, thankful I’d made it through the first fight. Two more to go, and Pax could keep his life.
I was taken to Scar’s office and left there, when all I wanted to do was go back home and take a scalding hot shower. The door to the office opened and Scar strolled in with a wad of cash in his hands and a huge smile on his face
“I think this was a record night. You earned me close to a million dollars.”
“Congratulations,” I remarked dryly. “I’m ready to go home, can you get someone to take me back? I need to get there before questions are asked.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get home. Striker’s offered to take you. I had several people request to fight you, but I’m going to stick to my word and leave it to two more fights. The longer you stay around, the greater the chance someone recognizes you. I can’t have that.”
“When do I fight next?” I asked.
“One week. I’m going to go through the requests and pick out which one will benefit me the most.” He nodded toward the door. “Now go.”
Without wasting another minute, I bolted out of the chair, straight for the door. Camden waited just outside, his arms crossed over his chest, blindfold in hand. He didn’t even speak to me as I followed him down the hall to a set of doors. There we stopped and he put the blindfold over my eyes.
“I’m impressed,” he murmured in my ear. “I feel sorry for Paxton if he pisses you off.”
I didn’t even respond as he led me to whatever car he was using. He helped me inside and shut the door. During that short time alone, I leaned my head back and peeked through the bottom of the blindfold. We were definitely in an industrial section of town. I didn’t recognize it, but I did see a name on one of the buildings . . . Tate Industries and Supply.
When Camden got in the car, he started us on our way. “You not going to talk to me?”
“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered. “How can you be a part of all this?”
“It’s all I have.”
“That’s not true. You have me and everyone else. So what? You made a mistake and did something stupid. Okay, maybe something really stupid, but I know your brother still loves you.”
“It’s too late for that. I’m not the same person anymore.”
“Oh, yeah, you’re Striker now. The Camden I know and care about is still in there somewhere. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have cared if I was given to Rage.”
He growled. “That’s not going to happen. I could give a rat’s ass if you fight tools like that jackass tonight, but handing you over to Rage is unimaginable.”
The blindfold lifted and he tossed it in the backseat. We were in his sports car and on the highway headed back to my apartment. “Who is he Camden? What am I dealing with? He’s left me messages with black roses all week. It’s freaking me the fuck out.”
His eyes went wide. “He’s been doing that?”
“What does it mean?”
“I’ve never seen or talked to the guy because he walks around with a hood over his head, but I’ve heard stories. I don’t know if any of them are true, but I’m not taking any chances where you are concerned.”
So it was Rage with the hood over his head sitting with Scar and the others. “Tell me. I have to know what I’m dealing with here.”
Sighing, he looked over at me and something passed in his expression. Concern? Fear? I couldn’t tell. “He’s killed people, Gabby. And not just anyone . . . they’ve all been women. I don’t know how or why, but that’s what I’ve heard.”
The bile rose like a jagged knife in the back of my throat. Not only was this guy a stalker, but he was a murd
erer too. Tears stung the backs of my eyes. “What am I going to do?”
He pulled into the parking lot of my apartment and parked. “I don’t know. Just be careful and don’t tell anyone about this. They will go after Paxton if you do. And then nothing will stop Rage from coming after you.” He nodded toward the Hummer. “Now get in and go straight to Paxton’s. I’ll follow you over there.”
I opened the door and stopped. “Why do you even care what happens to me?” I asked, turning to face him. “You obviously didn’t care what happened to your brother.”
“Ryley and I are a completely different story. I’ve never had a problem with you.”
He wouldn’t face me head on and I knew it was because he wanted to keep his scarred cheek away. He was clearly ashamed of it. Was he possibly ashamed of what he’d done?
“You can always come back to us, Camden. You and Ryley can work this out. If I can see the good in you after what you did to my best friend, then that has to be something.”
And just like that, he closed up on me, his gaze hard. “Don’t call me Camden anymore. It’s Striker. I’ll do everything I can to keep you out of trouble, but after that, I’m done. Now go.”
Camden had my bag in the back seat, so I grabbed it and got out. Once I got into the Hummer, I found my phone and checked for messages. I had only been gone for four hours, which was perfect. That was enough time to make him think I ate dinner and went to a movie. I had to face Paxton and pretend everything was okay when everything was far from it. It would be my biggest acting role to date.
Luckily, when I got back to his house, he hadn’t made it back yet. I had enough time to take a shower and crawl into his bed when I heard his car pull into the driveway. Don’t be nervous. Paxton’s footsteps sounded lightly on the stairs and when he opened the bedroom door the room illuminated from the hall light.
Quietly, he walked over to me and sat down, brushing a strand of hair off my face. “I know you’re awake, sunshine. I can see your eyes fluttering.”
