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The Cocky Cage Fighter Six Book Box Set

Page 6

by Lane Hart


  Quickly pushing a few buttons he puts his phone to his ear.

  "Hey, man. You at the house?" Jackson asks who I assume is Jude. "Good, I'm going to swing by with my attorney, so she can get your statement." He pauses for a few seconds while he listens. I can't hear the other end since his brother isn't yelling like Elliott had. "Did you hear the bitch protesting that night?" Jackson asks, then laughs a few seconds later. "That sounds about right. We'll see you in a few," he says, and then hangs up.

  "Does he remember hearing her?" I ask.

  "Oh yeah, but I'll let him tell you himself." Jackson chuckles again, putting on his signal for the exit to Silver Spring.

  Chapter Five

  Jax

  I'm still barely containing my rage after hearing that asshole Page is seeing on the other side of the phone. Yelling at her, talking down to her, and accusing her of bullshit. Then when he mentioned wearing her ass out like it was a punishment and not just a little kinky foreplay, well I didn't want to let her go home. She doesn't deserve that shit.

  My opinion has nothing at all to do with the fact that she's sexy as fuck, and I want to see her naked. Nope, I just feel the need to look out for her for some damn reason. Maybe because it seems like she's constantly dealing with pricks. Her dad doesn't give her any credit, and her coworkers are all betting against her. Then her fiancé is a huge fucking tool, too? How can someone so smart and beautiful end up surrounded by so many assholes? Myself included.

  I'm actually kind of nervous about bringing Page to my dad's place. I've never brought any women over, since there's no point in having Dad and Jude get to know one-night stands. Hell, I don't even get to know them. My dad has already met Page, and didn't seem all that impressed. Since she's a knockout, I'm pretty sure I know what crude opinion Jude will have about her before I unlock the front door of the two-story brick house I grew up in and step inside.

  The woman may not have much experience in court, but she has been getting shit done, which makes me respect her a little more. For some reason, the more I respect her the more I want to fuck her.

  I'll never forget the way those blue eyes widened and her mouth fell open while checking me out at the pool. Her usual unfazed, ice princess facade crumbled for just a few seconds. She wanted me, despite the fact that she thinks I'm a guilty jackass. That's why she had tried to bolt and nearly knocked herself out on the cement. She was embarrassed that I'd witnessed her lustful perusal. She was probably pissed at herself for even considering fucking a lowlife like me. The woman's supposed to be marrying a future Presidential candidate for Christ's sakes. Although, she'd have to be an idiot to go through with that shit based on what I just heard him say to her.

  "Dad? Jude?" I call out, stepping aside in the foyer to let Page through.

  A second later, my brother is sliding down the staircase banister on his ass, wearing nothing but navy blue sweatpants. With an airborne, flying leap dismount, he lands with a loud thud when both of his bare feet hit the foyer floor inches in front of us. I swear he acts like he's still twelve instead of twenty.

  "Hey, bro. Your attorney is fucking hot," Jude says with a lecherous grin. His eyes, the same dark chocolate as our mother's and mine, look appreciatively up and down Page, making her cheeks redden.

  While he's distracted with ogling her I pounce, effortless putting him in a headlock until he's bent over, his upper body parallel to the hardwood floor.

  "Jax, you fucker!" he yells as he flails about trying to get free, elbowing me in the chest and pulling on my arm that's over his throat.

  I bring my knee up on his head but not hard enough to break anything, then sweep his legs with my foot, taking him down to the ground.

  "Jax, don't choke your brother out in front of company," my dad says when he joins us in the foyer.

  Point made, I let Jude go and get back to my feet while he collapses flat on his stomach.

  "He needed to learn some manners," I reply, straightening my now crooked t-shirt.

  "Cheap shot," Jude grumbles.

  "Hi, Page. What are you two up to?" Dad asks the woman whose back is pressed against the door, looking at us like we're all nuts.

  "We just spent the day in AC. Luckily Page was able to get the video today or we would've been shit out of luck," I tell him.

  "I also spoke to a valet that remembered seeing...the bitch when she was leaving that night," Page speaks up for the first time since we've walked through the door.

  "You did?" I ask in surprise.

  "Yes. His name is Steve Sanders," she replies proudly. "I've got his contact information and I'm going to draft up an affidavit that he's agreed to sign. He said she was fine and perfectly happy when she asked him to get her a cab. Her appearance was somewhat disheveled, but that's to be expected. He didn’t see any redness or bruising on her neck, either."

  Dad's eyebrows shoot to the ceiling and he gives a small smile, like he's impressed with the attractive young attorney. Lord knows I am.

  "We’re hoping to get Jude's statement, since he was in the hotel room next door," she tells them.

  My little brother slowly gets to his feet, sending a pissy look my way, probably for besting him in front of Page.

  She turns to him and explains, "If you'll tell me anything you heard, I'll type it up and then get you to print and sign it."

  At that Jude smiles wickedly at her. "Well, at first it sounded like she was bitching, something about Jax never calling her. Then after that it was 'Fuck yesss! Oh! Oh! Oh Godddd!'" He uses a falsetto to make his imitation sound more authentic.

  "Geez," our dad mutters, shaking his head before thankfully retreating.

  Page is still blushing, but she quickly finds her composure. "So you didn't hear her say 'no' or 'stop''?"

  "Nope, definitely not," Jude responds, flashing her his dimples. "The only thing I heard after the bitching were cries of pleasure."

  "And how would you know what a woman sounds like when she's getting off?" I joke with him.

  "Shut the fuck up!" my little brother snaps at me. "If you weren't such a whore then maybe you wouldn't be in this mess, charged with rape and shit!"

  "That’s an excellent point, and he's agreed to stay away from women until the trial is over," Page tells my brother.

  "Ha! Jax staying away from women? I give it less than a week!" Jude laughs. I have to admit that his guess is rather generous.

  "Hey, I can easily stay away from women," I respond. "The problem is getting women to stay away from me."

  "Has he always been so...cocky?" Page scoffs loudly and asks Jude.

  "You have no idea, sweetheart. Have you seen his apartment yet? There's wall to wall mirrors in that bitch so that at any given moment he can see his oversexed cock multiplied by infinity."

  Page throws her head back and laughs. "You're adorable and freakin' hilarious. I bet you have to beat the girls back with a stick."

  Was the ice princess actually flirting with my little brother? I was stunned and…jealous, which was nothing new.

  "Trifling trashy cage cunts are always trying to hit this," Jude says, running his palms down his naked upper body, making Page giggle like a little girl again. "But unlike my bro, I'm looking for quality, you know, a beautiful classy woman like you, and not secondhand sluts bought in bulk. Jax has been fucking every skank that flashes a little tit or ass his way since before he could drive."

  "Oh, please cut the bullshit before I knock your ass out," I groan, not happy with Jude telling Page about all of my sexual exploits, even though she basically knows as much. "Page, you can set up anywhere, then let me know when you’re ready and we can get the shit printed," I tell her. "Are you hungry?"

  Her eyes finally leave Jude's to meet mine. "Sure, I could eat something. I had a busy day while you lounged at the pool."

  "What a lazy ass," Jude mutters as he tries to punch me in the gut. "You going soft during your hiatus from the cage?"

  "I can still take you," I say, dodging his fist, and nail
ing him in the side with mine.

  "Ugh. Damn it," he grunts, clenching his ribs. "Yeah, you outweigh me by twenty pounds, and are three inches taller, asshole."

  "Excuses," I counter, heading for the kitchen before I make my brother bleed.

  …

  Page

  It's fun watching Jackson and Jude joke and tease each other. My brother and I have never been close, since he's six years older than me. When we were growing up Logan had been just as condescending to me as my father.

  After Jackson told me that he and his brother were opposites, I hadn't expected them to look so much alike. They could pass as twins! I guess he was referring to their personalities, since Jude has the exact same dark hair, although almost completely shaved, and eerily similar midnight eyes. Jude seems happy and outgoing unlike his introverted, brooding brother. He's incredibly charming, probably able to make women swoon just by flashing his adorable dimpled smile. And I couldn't help but notice in his state of undress that, even though he's a little slimmer and a smidge shorter, Jude has the same rippling muscles as Jackson. The only attributes Jude lacked were his older sibling's cockiness and scorching hot natural swagger.

  "You finished flirting with my brother?" Jackson asks when he strolls back into the living room.

  "I wasn't flirting with your brother," I scoff, looking up from my laptop. "We've been working on formulating the most accurate wording for his affidavit." I can't help but smile as I remember some of Jude's more hilarious versions.

  "Uh-huh. Ready to eat? Stuck-up rich girls like fajitas, right?" he asks snidely, crossing his massive arms over his puffed up chest.

  "I'm not stuck-up."

  "Yes, you are. You're an elitist bitch, and you think you're better than everyone else," he snaps, making me gasp at the insult.

  "No, I don't. And you're the one being a judgmental jerk."

  He barks out a laugh. "A judgmental jerk? Is that the best you can do? What else you got for me, ice princess?"

  "You know, I'm really getting tired of your snarky comments about me being a spoiled rich girl," I tell him. Setting my computer down I get to my feet, slapping my fists on my hips to show him I'm seriously tired of his attitude.

  Jackson smiles in response, like I'm missing out on some inside joke. "But if I didn't make 'snarky comments' then I wouldn't get to see you like this, trying to look angry."

  That momentarily catches me off guard. "You…intentionally provoke me?" I ask in confusion.

  "Hell yes. And unlike the asshole on the phone, I wouldn't spank the shit out of you to punish your smart mouth. I'd fuck you so good you'd forget your name, along with whatever it was you were pissed about. You wouldn't be able to sit down the next day, but only because you'd beg me to keep pounding my cock into you until you pass the fuck out."

  I’m paralyzed by his crude words, mostly offended, but a small part of me is so instantly aroused I think I might combust where I stand. It's the annoying anatomy between my thighs, pulsing and suddenly so wet the moisture coats the inside of my panties.

  "You can't…that’s not..." I stutter.

  "Quick, what were you pissed about less than thirty seconds ago?" Jackson asks.

  "Ah, what?" I'm drawing a blank about everything in my life prior to the speech he just gave. I know my name is Page...something-another. That's it, that's all I've got.

  "I guess I don't need to fuck you to make you forget since just talking dirty does the trick." Jackson doubles over with a full belly laugh. "You should see your face, princess. Priceless!"

  He's making fun of me, taunting me. He didn't actually mean any of the things he said, he was just trying to get a rise out of me. "You're an a-hole."

  "Well, this asshole does have food ready if you're hungry," he says before heading back down the hallway still chuckling.

  Since it's either stand in their living room and sulk or finally have something to eat after a full day of going without, I follow him. The house smells delicious, like green peppers and sautéed onions. Just inhaling the aroma has my empty stomach growling.

  Quickly finding the kitchen, Jackson thrusts an empty plate in my direction before he sits down, joining his dad and brother at the dining table with his plate of food. It's then that I finally notice what's missing. Where is their mother? Jackson has never once mentioned her.

  I decide it's none of my business, and after making two fajitas, I take the empty seat beside Jude, mostly just to annoy Jackson since he thinks I was flirting with his brother.

  I fold up my tortilla tightly, noticing Jude and Jackson forgo the shells and are only eating meat and vegetables, and lean down to take a bite. Holy moly, these things are delicious! When I open my eyes from savoring the flavor all three men are looking at me.

  "Do I have something on my face?" I ask, grabbing my napkin and patting the corners of my lips.

  "You eat funny," Jackson says before digging his fork back into his food.

  "What?"

  "You're all delicate and shit, like a girl," Jude explains.

  "Um, okay?"

  "We're not used to having any ladies join us for dinner," their dad explains from the head of the table. "One of my sons is a whore and the other is celibate. Between the two I may never have daughter-in-laws or non-bastard grandchildren."

  I can't hold in my snort of amusement. It's hilarious that he's so blunt!

  "That's definitely unladylike," Jude says in response, which causes warmth to spread across my cheeks. "Now you fit in a little better with us."

  "Gee, thanks," I mutter. "And thanks for letting me join you for dinner. These are great," I tell them, digging into my fajita.

  "So how are you going to respond to that picture of you two?" their father asks.

  "What is this picture I keep hearing about?" I ask.

  His dad pulls his phone from his pocket and hits a few buttons before sliding it across the table to me. Jackson intercepts it before I can see it.

  "Ah, fuck," he groans when he looks down. Now I really want to see it.

  "Let me see!"

  "Um, you really don't want to see this right now, Page. Maybe later."

  "Give me the phone, Jackson!"

  "No."

  I wipe my hands on my napkin then pull out my own phone from my pants pocket. In the search engine I type Jackson's first and last name then wait for the images to load.

  "Son of a…biscuit eater!" I exclaim, and cover my mouth when the first photo pops up. It's a side view of me and Jackson at the pool earlier. I'm clenching his arm that's around my waist as he presses my body against his huge, mostly naked one. His head is bent down awfully close to my ear, which makes it look like he's kissing me. The title of the article from a sleazy gossip magazine says, "Felony charges forgotten while MMA fighter Jackson Malone fraternizes with his legal staff."

  "Whheeeww," Jude whistles when he leans over to look at the phone in my hand.

  "She was about to fall," Jackson explains.

  "Sure, the old, 'I broke her fall excuse'." Jude chuckles.

  "This is so not good. I can't believe my dad hasn't called to yell at me yet. Dang it, he'll probably take me off the case!"

  "No. I don't want you off the case," Jackson says right away, sparking a warmth inside me despite the current circumstances.

  "If there is even an appearance of a conflict I'll have to get out, or I risk losing my law license."

  No wonder Elliott was pissed. This is bad, and it does look like something's going on between me and Jackson even though it's completely innocent. Okay, mostly innocent.

  "Maybe that's just a still shot from a video, like what we did with the hotel surveillance video. If we can find someone out of all those people around the pool that captured the whole thing then it won't be an issue, right?" Jackson asks.

  He has a good point. "No, probably not."

  Jackson sits his dad's phone down and pulls out his, while I put in a few keywords for videos. I finally come across one on a video sharing site
with Jackson's name and today's date. I hit play, hoping this is it. And thank you cheese and rice, it’s us from before I turned around through my embarrassing slip and windmill, and finally his save and then release.

  "Got it!" I tell him, handing over my phone.

  Jude and his dad both jump up from their seats to go and take a look at it over Jackson's shoulder.

  "Huh, that really is what happened," Jude admits disappointedly, then returns to his plate of food.

  "That's a relief," his dad says before heading back to his seat to finish eating.

  My phone starts ringing in Jackson’s hand. He frowns and stretches across the table to hand it back to me. "It's your dad."

  "Hey, Dad," I answer.

  "Goddamn it, Page! What the hell were you thinking! I didn't give you permission to go to Atlantic City, and I sure as hell never expected you to screw around with our client!" He yells at me like I'm an unruly teenager.

  "It's just a misunderstanding. There's a video-" I start to say, but he interrupts.

  "Not only are you fucking things up with Elliot, you're already fucking this case up after we just got hired!" he yells, making my eyes water at his harsh chastising. He's always expressed his disappointment in me, but never at this level. I stand up to leave the room and breakdown in private, but before I can escape, Jackson reaches across the table and jerks my phone from my hand.

  "Mr. Davenport? This is Jackson Malone," he says. His eyes are focused on the hardwood floor as he paces with his usual fluid grace alongside the dining room table. He reminds me of the angry caged tiger at the zoo, plotting who he's going to maul first once he escapes. Oh, and he will escape.

  "If you look on the internet there's also a full video showing I caught Page before she cracked her skull on the cement. And if we'd waited just two more damn days to subpoena the hotel video surveillance footage, it would've been gone. Permanently. Fucking. Erased. And then we wouldn't have the blown up photos of the bitch leaving without any marks on her neck, contrary to the pictures the prosecutor gave Page in the discovery today. Oh yeah, and Page wouldn't have found an employee that actually talked to the bitch when she was leaving the hotel that night. If it wasn't for her getting shit done, I'd be fucked, waiting around for someone else at your firm to finally get off their ass. From now on this is her case or we're done," he says in a growling tone, making it clear that he's pissed and dead serious, before he hangs up on my father.

 

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