BOUND TO A KILLER: A Second Chance MMA Romance

by Evelyn Glass

  “No–one wants to bid more than ten thousand?” The auctioneer sounded worried, for some reason– what, had they hoped to get more for me? I had no idea what a reasonable amount of money was to these people, and frankly, I had hoped never to find out. Well, not first–hand, at least.

  “I think I won her, man,” Breaker met my gaze briefly, and a shiver passed over my spine as he did so. His expression was unreadable, but, knowing him, I could be almost damn certain that it wasn’t hearts and flowers going through his mind. If he wanted me, it wasn’t for anything good. Fuck, I was surprised he wasn’t just leaving me to my fate, abandoning me to this clusterfuck of awful people. That would have almost been worse. Almost. And he wouldn’t have had to spend all his money doing it.

  Suddenly, someone else emerged from the shadows at the back of the room; I squinted through the haze of smoke and sedation to try and make out who it was. He was taller than Breaker, wider too, and looked at least a decade or two older. I had no idea who he was, but everyone in the room seemed to clam up as soon as he stepped forward. This guy had some serious sway in this place.

  “I don’t think you can afford her, Breaker,” the man spoke firmly and coolly, but his tone was enough to tell me that he owned this place and he wasn’t about to back down over this.

  “Count it,” Breaker gestured to the table in front of him, which I finally noticed was full to the brim with poker chips and cash. Of course, that’s what brought him here tonight, the chance to gamble. He had always been gambling in the cells when we had him in custody. The fact that I had turned up here as well was probably just a plus for him.

  “Trust me, man, I don’t think you can afford her,” the man repeated, and his fists were clenched by his sides. Breaker waved his hand, dismissing him, and there was a murmur of surprise that travelled around the room in response to his blasé attitude.

  “I know you might not want me to have her, Thad, but that’s not how this works,” Breaker stood up and stretched coolly, like a cat on a windowsill on a hot summer’s day. He seemed completely in control, and my eyes widened as he began to make his way towards me.

  Chapter Four

  Suddenly, Thaddeus was in front of me, blocking my path to Angel completely. I paused for a moment and looked him up and down, making sure that my distaste at his presence was being made completely clear. Maybe I was crazy or maybe I was just a jerk, but I wasn’t going to let Thad get in the way of what I wanted to do. Yet again.

  I’d known Thaddeus Bane for a long time. Hell, anyone who moved in the circles that I did was well aware of him and the influence he had around the city. He was impossible to avoid, head of the motorcycle club that Taylor was a part of. You were either with him or you were dead– and that left me walking into my last few moments alive as I stood up to him for the first time.

  “Look, I know you’re an asshole, but no need to go get yourself in more trouble than she’s worth, all right?” Thad raised his eyebrows at me. I knew he was giving me one last chance to back down, and I had no intention of taking it.

  “The money’s right there.” I gestured to the cash on the table next to me. “She’s mine now.”

  He frowned, and gestured over to the chips sitting a few feet away—one of his lackeys hurried up to it, and quickly began counting the money where it sat.

  “Is it all there?” He demanded, and the lackey nodded. I turned back to him, a satisfied expression on my face.

  “Now, are you going to let me have her or not?” I kept my tone rough, letting him know that I wasn’t exactly going to treat her like a princess. I liked a rough fuck just as much as the next guy, but I didn’t have need to force any woman. Now, if Angel came to me on her own, all sad and pouting about what her life had been, I would be more than happy to show her what a dirty girl she was, underneath her badge and uniform. And sometimes, women needed some persuasion to understand how much they would enjoy the kind of pleasure a guy like me could give them. But some of these shitheads, they’d kill Angel, even if she’d never laid a hand on them, personally. That wasn’t something I could let happen. Not if I knew about it, anyway.

  “Fine,” Thad finally stepped aside, and the auctioneer finally removed his hands from her. When she looked at me, fear coursed through her eyes, her gaze darting around the room as though she could find a way out if she tried hard enough. She was still in cop–mode despite the situation. Maybe she was undercover? No, this was too far for undercover, and besides, they wouldn’t have plucked her off the street when she was in full uniform if she and her unit had somehow intended for this to happen. I pulled off my blazer and wrapped it around her; she looked up at me with something close to surprise and I put my arm around her possessively.

  “Keep the change,” I tossed over my shoulder towards Thad, knowing that my cockiness was probably driving him up the fucking wall. I shot an apologetic look to the two women who’d been all over me since I walked in, and started for the door. I would make it up to them later– once I figured out what I was going to do with the cop tucked under my arm.

  She leaned heavily on me, and I wondered how what she’d been given. She could barely stand upright, and I did my best to maneuver her out of there without letting her drop to the floor. She was barefoot, and was carefully picking her way across the floor, trying to avoid the most unsavory wet spots. I wondered what had happened to her uniform. Maybe they had sent it back to her station, as a warning or a taunt. Maybe they had burned it up as a mockery of the police and their inability to stop this from happening. But they hadn’t even left her with a pair of shoes, and that, for some reason, pissed me off even further than before.

  Suddenly, she took a turn for the worse. As we reached the door and I briefly let go of her to get hold of the handle, she swayed on the spot dangerously. I figured out what was about to happen seconds before she fell, and managed to catch her before she hit the ground.

  There was a small ripple of laughter around the room as I scooped her up into my arms. Her head lolled against my chest, and her mouth fell slightly open. She would probably kill me if she knew that it was me touching her right then, but I didn’t have much choice; I hefted her into my chest and pulled the door open, glad that it was late enough at night that there wouldn’t be too many partygoers to see me carrying this scantily–clad, unconscious woman through the streets. I already had three arrests on my record, and I certainly didn’t need another one, doubly so when I was actually trying to do something halfway good for a chance. That said, in this part of town, I doubt anyone would have looked twice. Her bare feet dangled over the edge of my arms, and I couldn’t help but notice how little she felt against me. When she was arresting me, she had all the swagger and attitude to fill a woman twice her size, but she barely weighed anything in my arms.

  I had rented a room upstairs, and I hurriedly fumbled the key out of my pocket so I could unlock my apartment door. I had hoped to end up back there with the two chicks who had been all over me at the poker table, but it seemed like the universe was determined to fuck up my night. I managed to get the key into the lock and shoved the door open, trying to get through the door without smacking her head on the doorjamb. Harder than it looked on TV. I carried her down the hallway to my bedroom and dumped her down on the bed. She sprawled out on her front, the dress riding up enough that I caught a glimpse of her ass. Despite the worst parts of me egging me on, I averted my gaze, grabbed the covers, and tossed them over her. There were a lot of kinky things I’d do, but that was just fucked up.

  I glanced down at her passed–out form, then leaned in to make sure she was still breathing. When I put my hand just in front of her mouth, I could feel short, shallow breaths against my skin. She would be all right come the morning.

  This close to her, my senses filled with the scent of her perfume; it was sweet and musky, and seemed to perfectly suit the kind of woman I’d known her to be. I pulled back at once, my brain racing with the possibilities now that I had her in my apartment…as far a
s she knew, I was still an asshole. Maybe I could live up to that…?

  No. I couldn’t do it. Even if I wanted to, the thought of just purchasing her and having my way with her was a turn–off. If I was that desperate, there were two gorgeous girls downstairs who probably would have been happy to set up camp on my couch for the rest of the night. But I realized, stretching and yawning, that I was already exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to climb into bed and sleep. With a sigh, I pulled off my shirt, grabbed a blanket from the end of the bed, and made my way through to the couch in the small living room next door. I heard her let out a small moan as I tried to get myself comfortable, and did my best to ignore it. I closed my eyes and focused on the sound of cars passing by down below me, letting them lull me into a restless slumber.

  Chapter Five

  I opened my eyes, and once again found myself in surroundings that I didn’t recognize.

  This time, however, my memory of what had brought me to that moment was a little less hazy. I could see it clearly in my mind’s eye: Breaker across the room, getting up and making his way towards me. Pointing at the cash on his table to confirm that yes, he could afford me. The sinking feeling in my chest as I prayed for someone, anyone else, to come forward and want me more. And knowing that, when he put down the ten thousand dollars, there was no chance that anyone else was going to take me. I wasn’t worth that much, even if I was a cop. To Breaker, however…fuck, he’d have probably paid any amount of money to get me away from the prying eyes of people who might not want me hurt. I remembered him walking me out of the club, the feeling of the eyes of everyone in the room upon me…some of them shot me little smirk of amusement, as if they knew what was coming next better than I did. Well, joke was on them, because nothing their brains could have come up with was even remotely close to the blanks I was filling in in my own head. I could just recall the panic that seemed to flood over me in one stark second before I passed out. He caught me, I knew that; probably because he didn’t want me damaged before he could have his way with me.

  And now, here I was. I spread my hands out wide, running them over the soft, clean sheets beneath me. The cover that lay on top of me smelled sweetly of fresh laundry, and there was a small stream of light trickling in from the window next to the bed. I turned to look out of it; the sky was a blissful, beautiful blue beyond the glass, and any other day, I would have been more than happy to wake up to this kind of morning. But I could feel someone’s gaze on me, and I knew exactly who was watching.

  There was a small noise across the room, and my head snapped around to locate the source. My stomach dropped when I saw Breaker, slumped into a chair opposite the bed. He had a drink in his hand, his arm dangling languidly over the edge of the seat as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “You…” I trailed off. I wasn’t sure whether I meant to insult him or beg him for mercy. He was grinning over at me, his demeanor cool and collected, and I frowned. How long had he been watching me? How long had I been out? A terrible thought crossed my mind, and I pulled back the covers to look at myself—no, I was still fully dressed. Well, if you could call what I was wearing “dressed” in any way, shape, or form. Either way, the skimpy dress I had been forced into the night before was still intact. I found myself taken aback. The way they had treated me the night before, I would have assumed that a passed–out woman in a tight dress was considered an opportunity by most of the guys in there. Maybe Breaker wanted me to be awake, wanted me to remember every bit of it. I pulled the covers up tight around me, feeling violated under his stare. I didn’t like people watching me sleep. It was why I didn’t let any guys sleep over at mine if we were hooking up. I wanted to climb into a shower, get something to eat, and then curl up in bed in the giant, gross shirt I still slept in after all these years. Knowing that Breaker had been the first to watch me in a long time…ugh. He wasn’t exactly my first choice.

  My tongue felt heavy in my mouth, but I finally managed to speak again.

  “You motherfucker!” I snarled, and pushed back the covers to scramble over the bed towards him. I might have been half–naked, but I could still fight, and what better time to take him out then when he least expected it. He probably thought that I was still bleary from the drugs, but that’s where he was—

  “Ow, fuck!” I reached the end of the bed and went to put my feet on the ground, but as soon as I did so, I found my knees buckling and giving out from underneath me. My head was screaming—I had never felt pain like that before in my life. I dropped to my knees and grasped my head in my hands, desperately trying to massage out the pinpricks of white–hot agony that had appeared over what felt like every inch of my scalp. Before I knew it, Breaker was on the ground next to me, his drink forgotten.

  “They gave you some pretty heavy stuff,” he remarked, tucking his hands beneath my armpits and pulling me upright. “You should sleep it off.”

  “What, and let you watch me?” I snarled, wrenching myself out of his grasp at once. His hands were warm and gentle, and I was surprised at the care with which he moved me—as though he actually gave a shit. I pushed the thought from my head. This wasn’t the kind of situation where I could expect kindness, and I wasn’t going to imagine it where it wasn’t there.

  “I was making sure you didn’t choke or something,” he shrugged. “Come on, get back into bed.”

  I dived beneath the covers again, pulling them up and over my body to make sure he wasn’t getting a show. I didn’t care if he’d paid for me, if he felt like he was owed a show, he was going to have to put up with the fact that I planned to fight him at every turn. He shouldn’t have picked me to take home if he wanted someone easy.

  “I’ll get you something to drink,” he suggested, and vanished for a moment out of the bedroom; I looked around, wishing that I was coherent enough to get out of bed and make a break for it while he was away. But every movement came with another stark reminder that I was fucked up beyond repair for the time being, and the only thing that would make me feel better was rest. I looked around the room—it seemed oddly impersonal, like a hotel, and I wondered if he actually lived here or if he simply rented out the place so he wouldn’t have to take the inebriated women he no doubt planned to bring back here too far.

  He returned a few seconds later, and to my surprise, handed me a glass of orange juice. I sniffed it carefully before I took a grateful sip. There were a lot of things that it could have been spiked with which I wouldn’t have smelled, but at the same time, I was painfully thirsty. It was fresh, cold, and quenching. I felt better once it had been swallowed, chasing some of the fuzz off my tongue.

  “Thanks,” I muttered. Maybe…maybe I had misread this situation? I mean, I knew that it still was pretty far from good, but perhaps there was something here. Maybe Breaker wasn’t the complete piece of shit jerk that I thought he was. I hated myself for even giving it the time of day—the thought spun around my head, and I tried to hold on to it, hold on to the ounce of hope that this wasn’t exactly what it seemed to be. I didn’t know why he had bothered to buy me, but maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t because he wanted to do unspeakable things to me.

  But I had spent long enough as a cop to know, in my heart, that it didn’t work like that with guys like Breaker. He probably didn’t know the meaning of the word “selfless.” I doubted he’d done anything in his entire life that hadn’t directly benefitted him in some way. This was probably just another one of his sick fucking plots, and he was just playing a long game with me to get me feeling safe and sound before he pounced with something unthinkable. I eyed him suspiciously as I chugged the juice, and felt the intense pain in my head begin to recede slightly. I handed him the glass when I was done, and nodded in thanks. He flashed me a tight half–smile in acknowledgement, and took the glass away, dumping it on a sideboard at the other side of the room. He slumped back into his chair and observed me for a second; I forced myself upright, and met his gaze. And what came out of his mouth next confirmed to me that I
was dealing with a world–class piece of shit.

  Chapter Six

  She had the covers pulled up to her chin, making sure that I couldn’t see any part of her. The way she was looking at me—the fear in her eyes—I knew she was just waiting for me to launch into something awful. I had no intention of hurting her, none at all, but part of me was pissed that she’d even think that way about me. Fuck, she’d been the one to arrest me all those times; she knew better than anyone that I wasn’t exactly the human–trafficking type.

  “Does anyone know I’m here?” Her voice was soft, her eyes wide as she spoke. She looked so different than what I was used to seeing from her. The last few times we’d encountered each other, she’d been in full uniform, hair scraped back into a ponytail beneath her standard–issue hat and every wrinkle ironed out of her clothes. She looked softer now, with her dark hair curling down to her shoulders, the strap of the dress shifted slightly to the side so that I could almost see her nipple. She noticed it and shifted so that she was – well, as decent as she could be in that horror show – then looked to me for an answer.