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

by Wyatt, Dani

  “Fuck this.” Flynn spun and threw himself back in the Bronco, hitting his ribs and sending another bolt of gasping pain into his body.

  He threw it in drive with the door still open, sending the Republican, white bread, one-percenters gasping and screaming off the circular drive as the engine threw black smoke and the tires filled the air with the acrid smell of burning rubber.

  Flynn drove around two blocks, then came back through the staff lot, parking quietly and taking a good five minutes to figure out where the restaurant staff came and went.

  It didn’t take long. Most of them couldn't wait to get out the back door for a smoke break. When a few disgruntled faces gathered, Flynn calmly worked his way toward them — a wad of green in his hand.

  “Hey.” Flynn tipped his head toward the small group.

  A young guy with a neck tattoo gave Flynn an immediate nod. “Hey.”

  The three employees exhaled smoke and eyed him up and down. His bloody face, arm full of tats and the look in his eye told them he wasn’t there to bum a cigarette.

  “Listen, I’m not going to bullshit you. Here’s a Benjamin for each of you. You let me in that back door, walk me through and then forget you ever saw me. I’m not here to hurt anyone; I just need to see if someone is here. I need the SPIN party. You know what I mean? Truth. Straight up. It’s fucking important.”

  The three stared at him, glanced at each other, and the young kid with the neck tattoo peeking out of his white collar stood up and ground his cigarette under his heel. “Come.”

  Flynn handed them each a crisp $100 without another word and followed the dark-haired city boy through the back hall and around the noisy kitchen.

  “You go down this way. There’ll be a double door on your right and on in front of you. Take the one on the right. You want to go to the Deloitte Ballroom.”

  “Thanks, brah.” Flynn gave him a hand, and the kid nodded as he shook.

  “Good luck. Bitches be trippin’ huh?”

  Flynn would have cracked a smile, but he was already halfway down the hall.

  He could hear the music, a grand piano, the distinctive tink-tink of glasses and fine china as well as the high-pitched staccato of women’s voices trying too hard to be proper and the low rumble of too many dicks trying to swing bigger and badder than the next.

  You could smell the money.

  The arrogance.

  The privilege and the entitlement.

  Through his pain and the haze, Flynn’s stomach turned.

  He would never be part of this life. Even if his bank account topped Colin’s, he could never live this fakery. This mutual cluster fuckery. It sent him into wolf mode, and he felt like tearing throats and leaving the place wrecked with blood-soaked tuxedos.

  Deep fucking breath, oh yeah, that’s not a fucking possibility right now. So, get in your space, man. Focus, get her if she’s here and get the fuck out. No other option. She’s probably not here, but I got a feeling, and if she is, he’s got her here under protest.

  Flynn came around the last corner, the piano music now brilliantly sharp and hurting his ears. He tucked behind a doorway, leaned in and scanned.

  He could feel the tendons in his neck strain. There was a refusal, a sharp pain when he tried to look too far to the left. Whatever Gideon did, it needed to be undone. If it was possible to have a broken neck and still be functioning, Flynn was beginning to understand how that would feel.

  Long gown, short gowns, brunette, blonde — then, there. The glow of her hair piled on her head, her neck ivory and long.

  Then, the knife that was in his side moved and cut out his heart.

  She was here. He was here. They were together.

  The kiss was not on the cheek. Not just friendly.

  It was a kiss. The kind only he was allowed to give her.

  But, there it was.

  And there he was, delivering Flynn’s death blow.

  Hand on her waist, lips on hers, pulling her into him.

  And then Flynn’s world ended.

  Lilly smiled.

  She put her hand on his cheek.

  There was no more time. No more space or pain or plans or future.

  He couldn’t look away. Even as the wire wrapped tighter, cutting into his heart. The sick came up in his throat as they moved together across the room.

  Her gown was the same glowing golden green as her eyes.

  Smiling, the happy couple — shaking hands with guests, then Colin led her to the dance floor, and she followed.

  Her hands were on his, her smile warm and full as he kissed her forehead.

  My fucking forehead. That shit belongs to me.

  Not anymore…

  Flynn fell back against the wall, his head spinning. There wasn’t enough air. He felt the floor move under his feet and Gideon’s voice in his head.

  ***

  The poor kid with the tattoo on his neck shoving him out the back door while two security guards stood watch turned out to be his next memory.

  “He’s cool! He’s cool! I’ll get him out, no need for violence here. Gawd, power trippin’ rent-a-cops.”

  The kid shook his head and slammed the door. Flynn couldn’t breathe, and he felt the cold wrap around him from his bones outward.

  “Dude, what the fuck? You said you weren’t gonna do nothin’.”

  “What’d I do?” Flynn doubled over, trying to retain a small grasp on reality as time and space moved around him.

  “You came through the kitchen, shovin’ people out your way, throwing any kinda shit you could reach — you came undone, dude.”

  “Fuck.”

  “You all fucked up too, man. You got blood coming out your mouth, and you sound like you breathin’ through a Big Gulp straw or somethin’. What’s your damage?”

  “Nothing. No damage. I’m fine. Sorry if I fucked up your job. Here.” Flynn reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out the wad of bills, handing half of it to the kid.

  “Naw, man. I don’t need that. You need a doctor, though, that’s the truth. So, you didn’t see what you wanted to see in there, I take it. I been there, man, I get it. Fucking bitches.”

  “I gotta go.” Flynn pulled himself straight and tried to focus on where he’d parked the Bronco, taking a few, small steps into the dark parking lot.

  “Dude, you need a hospital!” the kid yelled after him as Flynn’s mind raced and his heart shattered.

  Don’t ever lie to me. That was all. How could she fucking do this? To me, to us? With him. What a fucking chump I am. Jesus, how could I have been so fooled?

  Finally inside the Bronco after what felt like a three-mile trek, he let it all go. The steering wheel took most of the hits.

  He’d gone from someone who felt nothing to pouring himself into someone who opened him up like an artful surgeon, flooding his life with more emotion and joy than in all the years before her combined.

  Whoever he became with her, he didn’t exist anymore.

  Now, he understood why physical pain never bothered him. It was nothing compared to this.

  He screamed until his voice gave way. Her taste taunted him, her scent stalked him until he smashed his forehead into the wheel and something he’d never experienced happened.

  He cried.

  He didn’t understand at first. The tears streamed down before he registered what they were. His head fell back loose on his neck like a man let down from the gallows. Only, that would have been better than this. He was still alive to feel.

  A sudden knock on the window broke his trance.

  He looked up, slowly like a drunk, his eyes taking a very long time to focus on the face looking back. Familiar, but Flynn’s brain was disengaged. He felt disembodied.

  “Dude! You okay?”

  It's that kid. What the fuck does he want?

  “I told you…need a hospital. You look even shittier than two hours ago. What you doin’ sittin’ out here?”

  Two hours? I just got in the fucking truck.r />
  Flynn rolled the window down, and he could smell the cooking from the huge kitchen at the hotel, the faint stink of cigarettes from the kid and the breeze turning toward winter.

  “How long?” Flynn’s voice cracked. Sounding raspy and hoarse.

  “Two fucking hours, dude. And it ain’t warm out here. Seriously, you die out here, I'ma be pissed.”

  “Two hours.” Flynn repeated the words, trying to register their meaning.

  “You wanna come back inside? You come inside, and I’ll get you a drink. You freakin’ me out sitting out here.”

  The idea of what he needed to do came like a strong wind before a storm. It tells you what’s coming, raises your senses and tells you that you need to decide where to go. Take shelter or ride it out, full on.

  “Yeah. Let’s go inside.”

  ***

  “I need to make a call.” Colin leaned toward Lilly. “I’ll be right back. You are doing a great job tonight.”

  The ballroom hummed with music and laughter, the smells of an expensive dinner and above all, money.

  “Thanks. But I really need to call Flynn.”

  “I told you. He knows where we are. He will be here after the fight. I’m sure everything is fine. They are probably out celebrating. You know why I had the boys fight each other, don’t you?”

  Colin smiled and put his arm around her shoulders. He’d been the perfect gentleman all night. Never pushing her too far but doing everything he’d prepared her for. The hand holding, the kissing.

  Lilly knew Flynn would be mad, but she also knew he would never know, and it was for both of them. She had to do what was necessary for their future. She couldn’t expect him to handle it all. Right?

  “No, why? It seems cruel to me. I mean, why have them fight? And, Flynn was hurt anyway.”

  “Yes, that was a mistake. But, he did start the fight. I apologized to him after. I’m sure he didn’t bother to tell you that part. He likes to paint me more despicable than I am at times. I don’t fault him; I have not been father of the year. But, he does embellish. You don’t know him like I do.”

  Lilly pulled at her fingers, unsure of how to process everything. She knew Flynn probably had called by now, and it bothered her not to be able to talk to him.

  Colin continued in his low, even tone. “I want the boys to be brothers. I want us all to be a family. You’ve helped me to see what I’ve been missing for so long. I thought, if they fought, they would get it all out. You see, men fight, then they feel better. What’s done is done. And, I think that is what will happen with the boys. Then, we can all move on. Together.”

  “But, that is why I should call. To be sure he's okay.”

  “Tell you what. Let me get this other call out of the way, and then you can call him from my phone. Your bag is in the limo, so I’ll even give you privacy. Okay?”

  Colin looked at her from the top of his eyes, like a father, his voice smooth and comforting.

  “Okay,” Lilly agreed, but the pull in her heart would not go away.

  “Good. This is all going to be great for us. I can feel it, Lilly. And, it’s all thanks to you.” He tapped her nose with his finger before standing to take his phone out and into the hall.

  Lilly stared at the champagne glass in front of her, the golden liquid so tempting, especially now.

  Under five minutes and Colin was back, phone outstretched with Flynn’s number ready to dial.

  “Go ahead. I’ll be right over here.”

  The sound of Flynn’s voice on his voicemail felt comforting and terrifying. She had been sure he would answer. Now, she didn’t know what to think.

  “He didn’t answer.”

  “Well, I told you. They are probably out doing what fighters do after a fight. And, well, that is not something you interrupt for a call.” Colin smiled and tucked his phone back in his pocket, scanning the emptying room. “You know the men in our family are not known for their fidelity. Flynn has a penchant for a certain type of celebrating after a fight. But, I’m sure you know that. You’ve been around this life long enough. Men in these families do what we do, but we also take care of our own. Just look the other way. That’s what the Dunleavy women have done for a very long time, and it works.”

  She swallowed dryly, feeling ill.

  “Besides, it’s late, and I have that beautiful suite for you. So, I will have the driver bring your purse up in a bit. There is a suitcase with some clothes and things for you until we take you back home in the morning. And, I will keep calling Flynn, let him know we are thinking about him and will see him in the morning back at the house.”

  Colin held out his hand, and Lilly took it, standing next to the man who was to be her husband in just a couple of weeks.

  “Oh, and, did I tell you? I will let you and Flynn occupy the guest house. Together.”

  By the time they got to the penthouse floor, Lilly was exhausted.

  Colin gave her the room key and turned toward the other suite down the hall. When he opened his door, Lilly looked quickly. Inside, she saw two of the young maids from the main house, kneeling just inside the doorway, naked.

  Lilly felt her heart stop. It was just a split-second glimpse, but did she really just see what she thought she saw?

  With a gulp, she slipped the card into her lock and made her way inside the luxury of her own suite. She looked at the suitcase on the floor, then she saw the bright red ribbon tied to a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black sitting on the table in the sitting room next to an enormous bouquet of white lilies.

  There was an unshakable tension that wrapped around her from her bones to her blood to her skin. Was Flynn that person both he and Gideon described? Could she be so naive to think a man like him wouldn’t have other women? She toyed with the ribbon on the bottle and drew the white card from in the flowers.

  Lilly, here’s to you and to our family May we forever be mended. Thank you, Colin.

  Everything about Flynn told her to trust. And everything about Colin told her to doubt. She looked around the suite, threw the hand written card into the trash and took a deep breath.

  ***

  “What the fuck is going on?” Colin slammed the door to his suite, cell phone at his ear.

  “I snapped his fucking neck, like you told me. They jumped on me and threw me out as soon as I did it. Took his ass away on a stretcher. He’s in the fucking morgue by now. I got the fuck out before they called any cops. But, if he’s dead, they’re coming for me.” Gideon sounded worried.

  “Who the fuck do you think I am? You don’t think I can pay off a few fucking cops to look the other way about a family matter?”

  “Fuck, I know. I’m just—”

  “Don’t you start doubting. You did what needed to be done, brother or no brother. Flynn has been off the rails for far too long. I’ve been too soft on him. So, if this is anyone’s fault, it’s mine. Now, we move on. I’ve got Lilly’s head right where it needs to be. She falls in line so easily, it’s not even a challenge. Now, go back to the house. Don’t call anyone or talk to anyone. Where are you now?”

  “I’m still here down at the fights, in the back rooms.”

  “No one else there?”

  “Nope.”

  “Good, you never know. Sometimes Topher comes around for big fights. I don’t need his fat ass fucking things up for us. So, get out of there before anyone else sees you.”

  “All right.”

  “Lilly’s locked in for the night. I told her Flynn was out getting laid — fucked with her head. She’s not going anywhere. Got her a fresh bottle and poked some holes in her fragile ego. She’ll be in bed with Johnnie Walker all night.”

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  If there was blood moving through Flynn’s veins, he couldn’t feel it. It didn’t warm him or make him feel human.

  The tips of his fingers were numb as he stood outside the suite door. His new best friend had managed to get Flynn through the hotel, even paying off a desk attendant with a few bl
unts to look up her room number before getting him up the elevator.

  Now, he was 150 pounds of carved mahogany door away from the one person he couldn’t face.

  But still, here he stood ready to — what, he wasn’t sure.

  The compulsion to look her in the eye one more time dragged his broken and battered body and soul to light here. He didn’t know what he was going to say.

  Or what he was going to do.

  He knew he wouldn’t lay a hand on her, not in anger.

  But, he needed to see her. Maybe not even say a word, just look at her before he decided once again whether living was of any interest. He was just a pile of flesh, no more than a butchered cow hanging in a meat locker.

  He meant nothing.

  But, she did.

  He needed to be sure she was safe. Still.

  His bones ached, and his brain was flooded with black thoughts.

  He was still a jealous and possessive predator, circling to ensure no harm came to her.

  The sound of his knuckles on the door surprised even him. No thought came before, no plan, no consciousness behind it.

  “Oh my god!” Lilly’s eyes lit up, the green from the gown only making them glow brighter. Her arms came up to take Flynn around the neck, but he shifted and took his entry without being asked.

  “You alone?” Flynn’s voice was emotionless as he scanned the suite, opulent enough for Donald Trump.

  “Yes. God, you look terrible. What happened at the fight? God, I tried to call—” Her shaking hand reached up, trying to touch his cheek. Flynn could see the horror in her eyes as she took in his battered, swollen, bleeding face.

  “You. Lied.”

  That was it. Flynn stepped forward, turned to stare at her with his dead green eyes.

  “What?” Her shock didn’t register any sympathy in him. In fact, there was nothing about her emotions that would ever register again.

  “Nice dress.”

  “What’s wrong? Colin said he told you, got in touch with you before the fight, let you know—”

  Flynn swallowed the spit and blood in his mouth, staring at her. Even through his indifference, she still pulled at him like gravity.