PUSH: Ultra Alpha MMA Badboy Mafia Romance (Southside Brotherhood Book 2)

by Wyatt, Dani

  And that's where she stayed, in the family garage, looked over and maintained by the family mechanic, until Colin kicked Flynn out four months ago. Then, they dumped him off and put the Bronco into storage. Since then, Flynn hadn’t thought much about retrieving her… until now. All the other family members cars were tracked, part of security. Reggie — the cool, old dude who kept all their vehicles running smooth — had been slipped a cool grand by Flynn to ensure the Bronco never ended up with its own little black box.

  The old man had kept his word.

  Now, more glorious than the day he’d bought her, there his Bronco sat, and Flynn thought the chrome grill looked like a smiling friend.

  “Okay, you were my first girl, but you’ve been replaced. I still love you, though, so show me what you got.” Flynn slipped the key into the ignition as he held his breath. With a roar, the old storage garage filled with a cloud of exhaust as she burned off months of quiet.

  “Good girl. Now, let’s go have some fun.”

  ***

  Inside Southside, Roger worked Flynn until his muscles burned and he could barely take a breath.

  “You’re outta shape.”

  “Had a little injury.” Flynn tried not to sound too flip. Respecting your coach, even when you were supposed to just be there to watch over a family investment, was still ingrained in him.

  “Yup. I see that. Doesn’t look like some accident either. I don’t want to know,” Roger grumbled, flapping a hand in the air. “But, I’ma tell you — you got the chops, kid. You got shit for defense, though. You’re all cobra. Sit there and take hits until you see your pocket, then you’re on ‘em like a lightning strike. But, you wanna win big, you gotta work on tryin’ not to take so many hits. You gonna end up with scrambled eggs between your ears. Now, I got you set up with Tony. You’re gonna get your ass kicked, you don’t defend yourself. You hear me?”

  “Yeah.” Flynn listened to his heart beating in his ears.

  He was tired as fuck but energized, like he was standing too close to a strong current. He knew why. It was her. Feeling her around him, sinking into her, her flavor, the sounds — he was already filling his shorts with a very fucking inappropriate half-boner.

  “One more thing.” Roger coughed until his face glowed like a stop sign. “I got a spot in a fight down at Harway.”

  “Reggie’s deal down there?” Flynn felt his fighting instinct kick in. It had been too long since he’d taken a real fight, and Reggie Johnson ran a top shelf gym on the other side of town.

  “Yeeeaaah.” Roger drew out the word long and low. “You ready for some lights? Next Friday. They had a guy drop. Got word and thought you might want a shot. Can’t promise anything, Reggie brings in some eyes sometimes, you might get lucky. Hey, you never told me what your record was back in — Boston? Florida? Where the hell you say your from?”

  “I’m from all over. I got a good record. Only lose when I’m told.” Flynn gave the old man a smile.

  “Well, don’t fucking do that.” Roger took what was truth as a joke. “Go stay warm, but close. You’re getting in with Tony in fifteen. You show me something, I’ll get you in down at Harway. Okay?”

  Flynn nodded. He knew Colin would shit a brick if he took that fight. Down there, someone could recognize him and word would get around about who he was, but fuck if he cared right now.

  He wanted to be back in the game. He’d taken two falls for the family and that put him under the radar — that and the shit legacy of when he sent that kid down for his last round. No one wanted to touch him after that… no one who mattered anyway.

  ***

  Getting Lilly a new phone would be priority after he left the gym. If he obsessed about her before, he was off the fucking chart right now. He couldn’t stop.

  There was a way to get this shit storm figured out and make sure she was safe during whatever maneuvers were coming in the next weeks. He had to be able to reach her, 24/7.

  As much as he hated how his entire life was logged and tracked from the time he could remember, right now, it was how it needed to be with her. She would need to make peace with that because there was no way around it.

  Flynn pounded and kicked the shit out of the heavy bag, trying to keep his own demons at bay. Thoughts of the quick way to end all of the bullshit that would conspire to keep them apart crossed his mind.

  He’d killed before.

  He’d broken bones.

  Smashed heads on command. On cement, on walls.

  He’d been his family’s enforcer on more occasions than he cared to remember. Giving out beat downs was Flynn’s day in the office.

  Why not one more? One more that would mean something.

  Because.

  That would be the end of him, and he wouldn’t leave her like that.

  His gut turned as salt burned his eyes, his knuckles throbbed and his chest pulled and ached. Still, even at three-quarter speed, he could turn on the fire and throw down even an opponent tagged for an easy win against him.

  He just needed the reason. And, now, he had it.

  “Mick!” Roger’s gravelly voice cut through the macabre plans that played like film noir inside his head.

  Flynn jumped up and down in place, turning to see Roger leaning on his cane and waving him to the beat-up ring at the front of the gym. Inside, whoever ‘Tony’ was, he outweighed Flynn by at least thirty pounds and looked ready to tear flesh from bone.

  Fuck, dude. It’s just a spar. Calm the fuck down.

  Roger leaned in, eyes red rimmed but sharp, looking Flynn up and down.

  “I said stay warm, not get into a damn froth.” Roger shook his head, glancing up at the glaring, bald hulk inside the ring. “Okay, listen. He’s got pounds on you, but that’s what you need. I wanna see some defense; that’s your weakness. You can’t be all pit bull — you gotta finesse it a bit. Maneuver, step around him. You’re faster. He’s a brick. Show me you can stay away.”

  “So, you don’t want me to hit him? Just dance with him?” Flynn cracked his neck and gave the zealot in the ring a quick smirk.

  “No, you fucking idiot. Don’t fuck around.” Roger’s free hand came around and Flynn felt the solid smack on the back of his head. “You know what I fucking mean — get in there. You came here to train, now do what I tell you or go pay someone else.”

  Flynn nodded.

  In the week he’d been there, the old dude had sharpened his skills. He’d worked out the kinks in his chest left from the knife and taught him some old school moves that had his timing sharper than an owl on a rat.

  Inside the ring, Tony pulled his lips back to show off his black mouth guard and leaned in until the tip of his nose touched Flynn’s.

  Flynn gave him a dead stare back. Fighters like him usually burned out fast. Too much ego.

  “All right. Clean fight. You ready?” Roger pointed to Tony; the behemoth nodded without taking his nose from in front of Flynn’s face. “You ready?” Roger’s eyes and index finger switched to Flynn, who gave a quick single nod before turning his back and taking three steps toward his corner.

  The crappy lights in the old gym buzzed and flickered. Sweat streamed down the indents of Flynn’s chest, adding light to the dark ink. The broad muscles of his chest moving under tight skin to show each tendon’s effort.

  “FIGHT.” Roger clapped the two, flat wooden pieces together. Like dogs at a track, both men came out of the gate.

  Defense. Watch. Wait. Breathe.

  The sound of Tony’s harsh breath and grunts filled the space between the sweat-covered men. Their feet made muffled scrapes and thuds on the mats below.

  Why Tony seemed to be hellbent on making this some center ring prize fight was lost on Flynn, but he needed to focus on what Roger had told him and not worry about the reasoning of his opponent.

  Tony laid in a quick succession of body blows.

  Flynn spun and angled away from him, bouncing back to swing his head around and land a shin to the giant’s sweat s
lick shoulder with a ‘smack’.

  Trying to go through the motions, Flynn felt nothing. He had no reason to fight this guy. He felt flat, dead. For a moment, the image of Lilly’s face as he entered her for the first time flashed inside his mind.

  That shit cost him.

  Tony hit him in the gut with a shoulder, lifting him up and over like rag doll, then bringing his head down onto the mat in a whiplash that sent stars dancing in his eyes.

  “DEFENSE! For Chrissake! Don’t just let him kick your ass, you dumb mick! Defense!”

  The words came through like a cloudy dream as Tony sat on his chest and barreled fists into the meat of his cheeks, sending his head wagging back and forth as he smiled from his superior position on Flynn’s belly.

  Flynn raised his hips, his head ringing, and jolts of pain stabbed behind each eye. He shifted Tony’s weight but the big man came down with another blow, connecting with Flynn’s lip and splitting it against his lower teeth in a spray of slick warmth that spread over Flynn’s tongue like a fire.

  That’s it. That’s the magic.

  Flynn brought his hips up and around, swinging one leg high enough to throw the grinning fuck off balance. Once he shifted him to the left, he uncovered his face, swung his leg up and managed to get one leg around.

  The metallic flavor ignited on his tongue, everything turned red, and in a matter of three seconds, Flynn flipped Tony over onto his back, exchanging their position to lay fists-into-face like a jackhammer.

  Spit flew out of Flynn’s mouth and sweat stung his eyes.

  Suddenly, Tony and Flynn were both on the mat, each scrambling to the be the first to find their footing. Flynn sucked in the blood that flowed out of his swelling lower lip, feeling it slip down his throat like rocket fuel.

  Time slowed. Flynn found his position before Tony could get his weight steady and, with an animalistic instinct, Flynn pounded him with the full force of a kick to the gut, staggering him back.

  Flynn went in for the kill.

  Two roundhouse blows sent Tony’s head swinging back and forth like a shutter in a storm, followed by one sickening crunch as Flynn growled and snapped Tony’s head back with an upward slam of knuckle on jaw.

  Tony-the-Terror fell like Raggedy Andy in a slick heap, one arm and shoulder hanging in the bottom rope of the ring.

  Breath burned as Flynn sprayed blood with each exhale and spit out the bright yellow mouthguard streaked with ruby red.

  “Well, I don’t know if you upped your defense. But, I guess you won.” Roger limped toward the desk to grab some help as Tony started to moan and crawl onto all fours. Then, Roger came around and mumbled something to Tony as he came up to sit back on his heels.

  Tony’s smirk was gone as his bleary eyes searched the ring and connected with Flynn.

  Flynn felt the blood moving through his veins and his heart hitting the inside of his chest wall, the fight-haze clearing.

  “All right,” Roger spoke to Flynn from a spot on his knees next to Tony. “Get cleaned up. You don’t listen worth a shit, but you got instinct, kid. You still need defense. Someday it’s gonna come around and bite you in your Irish ass, but I’ll put you in at Harway. One week, got it?”

  “Yeah. You think Teddy Bear is going to be okay?”

  Tony shook his head as Roger stood up and left him with an ice pack and towel against his head.

  “Don’t be an arrogant fuck. It was a good fight, but you’re not all that, so don’t be an ass. Got it? Now, get the fuck out.”

  Roger spun to make his way out of the ropes and back toward the front desk. A small group of old-timers and newb’s stood frozen at the bags or leaning against ropes, watching Flynn make his way toward the locker room.

  He never really thought about the win. Winning wasn’t enough of a reason. It was the pain, the blood that lit him up.

  Only now, it was her. Them together. Whatever it took to free them and make her safe, that would be the new taste of blood on his tongue.

  Four hours had passed since he’d made sure she was back inside the house safe and her absence unnoticed. Now, she was like a ticking clock in his head.

  As he made his way out into the daylight, he turned the Bronco toward Midtown, knowing he needed to make one stop before he got to her.

  ***

  “So, how’d you convince them you were such a big girl?” Ana spun in her desk chair like a carnival ride.

  “Right? I mean, you know, I told you some. But, Gawd, really? They keep telling me how important I am, blah, blah. And then you can’t trust me to drive myself to work? Can’t let me out of the sight of my chaperone's?”

  “Yeah, sorry, but I know everyone knows not to ask too many questions, especially about you. But come on, it’s weird, right?” Ana asked.

  “Yes. Family stuff. They have their ways, and it’s all just weird. They’re weird.” That’s putting it mildly.

  “So, you wanna go to lunch? Are you like, allowed to fraternize?”

  Lilly smiled at the little blonde. Most of the other folks who mulled around and worked, dropped their heads when she walked by.

  “I actually have a lunch date.”

  “Really? Your fiancé lets you date? He doesn’t seem like that — evolved.”

  Lilly tapped a few more lines of gibberish onto the screen as she pulled her lips to the side.

  “Yeah.” She shrugged with her smile. “No. I’m going to see Mac. He’s on the approved list.”

  Ana sighed and looked out the wall of windows at the other workers who kept shooting daggers at her through the glass.

  “Weird. But whatever works, I guess. I’m no one to talk; I haven’t been on a date in two years. Two. Years. Am I that off-putting? I mean, come on, I try, right?” Ana pushed the dark rimmed glasses up to the top of her nose raising her eyebrows.

  “You’re adorable.” Lilly smiled, turning around to see Ana staring at her as she spun her cell phone on the desktop.

  Lilly had about five minutes before she needed to leave and go see Mac. She was so tired, less than an hour of sleep and her belly hadn’t stopped fluttering and flipping thinking of last night.

  Not to mention the sore reminder with every step. Every breath, practically.

  Everything she felt seemed like a mixture of the greatest joy she could imagine and a black blanket of doom. What had she done? How could this ever end up without someone hurt — or in this family, dead?

  The flutter turned to a ripe wave of nausea as she imagined Flynn on the floor of her bedroom, the knife cutting across his chest. Only the next time, they wouldn’t stop at leaving a scar.

  “Hey!” Ana tapped her phone on the desk.

  “What? Sorry.”

  “Reception just called. Someone’s here for me. I’ll see you later. Maybe it’s my Prince Charming come to rescue me from my reluctant chastity.”

  Lilly laughed as Ana stuck her tongue out at the faces glaring at her through the glass.

  No one was supposed to be in the server room while Lilly worked. One of Colin’s many mandates, but Ana didn’t seem overly worried about all the peculiar rules surrounding the brain at the helm of their little project.

  One more line.

  As much as she hated working for them, this was what she loved. She got lost in the magic, the puzzle of it all. Her brain turned into Mozart writing a concerto, only hers included a language that couldn’t be spoken aloud and a dance of complex, seemingly unrelated parts, that, in her head, turned into a beautiful construct of reason.

  Just a minute later, Lilly heard the swoosh of the door and glanced behind her to see Ana coming back into her chilly, isolation chamber.

  “Hey, not for me after all. Something for you.” She lay a small box on her desk.

  “What’s this?”

  “I dunno. I went to the front desk and there was a package for me. Only, when I opened the outside box, there was this inside with a note.”

  She handed over a scrap of paper. Lilly’s heart stoppe
d as she opened the box and stared at the words.

  “I know you are her friend. Please give this to Lilly, then forget it.”

  “So, there you go. You better get to lunch. Stick that in your purse. I see nothing.” Ana spun on her heel not even bothering to sneer at the faces on the other side of the glass.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lilly’s hands shook as she felt the slick glass of the phone in her hands. The inside of the Nissan had heated with the sun even on a late fall day. Lilly felt the warmth but still held the chill of the server room.

  The phone buzzed and Lilly knew who it would be. Her body twitched as she looked down to see the message bubble on the screen.

  Follow me.

  She craned her neck until she heard her ears pop. Then, she saw it. A flash of white driving by in the parking lot, slowing as it passed the little blue car. Without even thinking, she turned the key and put the car in drive.

  Another buzz.

  Good girl. Now, don’t text and drive.

  That shit’s dangerous. Just follow me.

  I left a message for Mac.

  Said you’d be late, busy at work.

  Don’t think, just follow.

  She turned up the A/C and it blew across the burning that rose in her cheeks. The taillights of the Bronco turned the corner and headed north as she tried to keep her foot even on the accelerator.

  A flutter started somewhere south of her belly button and radiated down her legs and forced her to squeeze her shaking thighs together. She remembered. Her body remembered. Everything.

  Her mind spun.

  Never had she truly imagined someone wanting to have her in such an all-encompassing way. She thought sex would be just that. A three-letter word for an act that occurred between two consenting adults.

  Very straightforward—this part goes there and then this happens and then you’re done.

  Only, that was not at all what happened. He had consumed her, Lilly’s own fumbling self-pleasuring of the past seemed like a soft spring breeze. What Flynn showed her was more like a category-five hurricane.