Fractured & Formidable: The Sacred Hearts MC Book V

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Fractured & Formidable: The Sacred Hearts MC Book V Page 16

by Downey, A. J.


  Mandy turned, her arms winding around my shoulders and my body met hers eagerly. I threw the comforter behind her onto the bed and pulled her silky warm flesh against mine. She giggled into my mouth as I gripped her ass with my palms and kneaded, I brought my head back and considered her a moment. God I wanted to take her hard, just bend her the fuck over and pound her into next week!

  She turned trusting eyes up to me and the wild, primal urge died down to something tolerable. I enjoyed some seriously rough sex from time to time but I didn’t think my virgin girl was ready for the rough stuff. Not yet. Maybe someday but not today. I wasn’t entirely sure how to even bring it up to her, so for now I simply walked her back into the bed and made hot, sweet, passionate love to her. We had plenty of time for all of the rest.

  Chapter 18

  Mandy…

  Finding a new sort of routine that included Zander wasn’t difficult. At all. What was difficult was adjusting to going out and being active, and just plain around more people, more often. I still enjoyed my solitude and my evenings in on any given Friday or Saturday night. For the most part I gave in and would go to the club with Zander or with Everett and meet Zander there, but every once in a while I needed a slow and quiet night spent in, either at my place or his and I was surprised to find that Zander was okay with that. Surprised even more when he showed up with a book or books of his own… it was one of my favorite things in the world now, curling up with him, head on his shoulder or chest as we each read our own book. The quiet nights spent inside grew more frequent the closer and closer we drew to the fight Zander was supposed to be in.

  We’d talked about it and I’d told him truthfully that I worried about it. That I was afraid he was going to be hurt, especially knowing that his opponent was from the rival motorcycle gang, The Suicide Kings.

  The weekend after the club had come to my father’s church, one of the men from The Suicide Kings had attacked Shelly in Ghost’s house. She’d had to do something awful to save herself, but in some way, I think that it healed her a little bit from what had happened to her before. Still, I felt a keen sense of dread wherever I went, even when the men of The Sacred Hearts were near, watching over us, which was all the time now, even after both sides had met and agreed to a temporary cease-fire. Well, at least until the outcome of Zander’s fight with their man in what he called ‘the underground circuit’. I wasn’t stupid. I knew that was a polite way of saying ‘illegal fight’ but I followed Everett’s lead, for the most part, and stayed quiet.

  The questions I did have, I asked of Zander and only when we were alone. Some he answered and other’s he wouldn’t… well, that wasn’t fair. Some he couldn’t answer as they fell under the ubiquitous umbrella of ‘club business.’ When it came to that, our relationship was wholly based on love and trust and a bit of blind faith, which I had in Zander and so it was okay.

  Now it was just after Christmas, but still before the New Year and I stood in front of the full length mirror on the inside of my closet door with Everett behind me. I was wearing some of her clothes and with the snow on the ground, I was pretty sure I was going to lose something to frostbite but I had to admit, I looked like a whole different person. I wasn’t wholesome Mandy, the preacher’s daughter. No, I was Red. Zander’s buxom girlfriend and someone who looked like they belonged on a fighter’s arm. I tugged at the skin tight top of the dress and shifted in my heels.

  “I’m afraid I am going to pop out of this and flash the entire crowd,” I complained. Everett laughed. She looked just as tarted up as I did, except on her it looked good. She had this sexy confidence while me… I just looked freaked out and like I was wearing way too much eye makeup.

  “Relax Mandy. You look amazing.” She rolled her steely blue eyes at me when I fidgeted one more time. “You aren’t going to fall out either. Welcome to looking like a modern woman and not a…” she trailed off.

  “Preacher’s daughter?” I asked with a wry grin. She broke out into a sheepish one of her own.

  “Well, yeah…”

  “My father was right. You’re a terrible influence!” Everett gave an indignant shriek and fell out laughing. I laughed with her but quickly sobered.

  “He’s going to be okay, right Evy?” I asked meekly.

  She sighed, “Mandy, you’ve never seen Zander throw a punch or get into a fight but I have, at the last Lake Run. He’s going to be fine. I promise you!” she hugged me. “You worry too much!”

  A soft knock fell on the bedroom door.

  “You girls ready?” Dray called through the wood. Everett opened the door for him. He took me in, deep dark eyes roaming me from head to toe and back again. Everett grinned.

  “You look good, Red,” he said cautiously, eyeing Everett.

  Everett rolled her eyes, “Just say it! I know I’m the only one for you,” she teased.

  “Fine, if Evy weren’t in the picture and you didn’t belong to Rev, I’d be fucking you against the wall.” He shrugged laconically and I scoffed, mostly in surprise.

  I took one last look in the mirror. I wore a skin tight black dress of Everett’s with these long sleeves, but there were these cut outs that left like a ladder effect from shoulder to wrist along the outsides of my arms. The neckline plunged low and the short skirt rode high, barely covering the garter holding my stockings up. Also borrowed from Everett. The only thing I wore that was mine were the black high heeled boots that came above the knee and of course, my own bra and panties. A matching set that she and I had bought just for this occasion.

  It was still weird to look into the mirror and not see curls. Everett had spent well over an hour, painstakingly straightening my fiery red hair with a flat iron. Her careful work would be completely undone as soon as it got wet, but for now it hung straight and beautiful down past my waist. No one had ever seen me with my hair straight, I wondered vaguely what Zander would think, but I wouldn’t see him until after the fight. I hadn’t seen him since the day before yesterday. We’d both hated it, but the guys seemed to think that it would help him focus… Well, it was what his trainer had always insisted upon and Trigger and Reaver had just reminded him of it. He’d wanted to ignore them but I’d been the one to insist upon it. I didn’t want to be one to mess with a tried and true method.

  Dray appeared behind me in the mirror and held up my coat for me to slip into which I did, obediently. I didn’t know what to expect when it came to this fight, but the men had assured us that the venue would be safe. As far as Sacred Heart women went, it would just be me and Everett. Ashton and Hayden had skipped on the notion of attending, preferring to spend girl time with one another. Chandra wanted to spend some time with her grandchildren, though Doc would be there to tend to the fighters. Shelly had said not only no, but Hell no. She didn’t want to be anywhere near anyone even remotely related to The Suicide Kings, and who could blame her? Ghost would be there though. Shelly preferring to stay home and work on numbers for both Soul Fuel and Pauley’s Towing, her man’s business.

  We left the house, Trigger waiting at the curb in his and Ashton’s garnet red Jeep. Dray opened the front door for me and stood to the side. I blinked. He was a gentleman to Everett only. I climbed up inside the vehicle and Trigger gave a low whistle eyes roaming me appreciatively. He’d just proposed to Ashton last weekend so I knew he was just being polite. The large man only had eyes for the petite auburn-haired beauty that was his woman. Still, he made me blush which made him laugh.

  Dray and Evy settled into the back seat, my best friend cuddling into her man’s arms and I felt faintly jealous. I was surprised at how much I missed Zander and it had only been a couple of days! What surprised me even more was when Trigger pulled into a parking lot for a high school.

  I frowned. Somehow I didn’t picture an illegal fight venue as a high school gymnasium, but sure enough that was where we were headed. Trigger offered me his arm to steady me. High heels weren’t usually a trick for me to walk in but with the hearty layer of snow and ice on the grou
nd, well that was a different story.

  It was hot in the gym and Trigger took my coat. I felt self-conscious when it came to my attire but decided that showing as much would be a really bad idea. There weren’t many women in attendance and the men who were… Well let’s just say there were some rough characters streaming into the gym around us. Trigger mean mugged a few of the more enterprising men that tried to approach me, and Dray did the same for Ev. They took us over to some ringside seats, folding metal chairs close to the ring which was encased in chain link fence, almost like you would see at a construction site, but modified. I swallowed hard and jumped when a hand fell onto my shoulder.

  “Easy Mandy-girl! Just me,” Zeb’s familiar accent sounded from close by. I smiled up at him. Familiar was good.

  “I have to go in back, Zeb you look after her, man,” Trig said. Zeb gave Trigger a little salute and with a lingering kiss, Dray left Evy in the care of Duracell. We sat bracketed by the men who stood to the side and a little behind our seats, looking rather imposing.

  The bleachers of the school’s gym were filling and Zander had told me that the people in attendance had paid thirty to fifty dollars apiece to be here, which I thought was just plain amazing! It’d made me wonder, rather dubiously, why anyone would want to pay that amount of money just to watch two men beat each other senseless. It just didn’t make sense to me, but to each their own I suppose.

  A young man, maybe my age, got up into the ring wearing some very baggy jeans and an oversized white tee shirt, a hat turned sideways on his head in the typical hip-hop fashion that made about as much sense to me as the whole fighting thing did. He raised a microphone to his mouth.

  “Hey, yo! Yo! Check it!” he cried into the mic and the crowd went a little wild. Everett laced her fingers with mine and smiled at me encouragingly.

  “Usually, we save the best fight for last and I’m here to tell you that the main event is gonna blow your mind, but!” the man bucked up straight and turned in place, “Tonight is gonna play a little different man, because we got an old friend with a new name coming back to our ring and it’s a special kind of grudge match tonight!” The crowd cheered and stamped their feet in the bleachers and I swallowed hard.

  “How many of you fools remember Zander!?” the MC asked, and the gymnasium erupted in cheers so loud my ears began to ring, I almost didn’t hear the music start, it sounded like an accordion and a male guttural voice chanted ‘Come with me now… come with me now,’ and the announcer put his mic back to his mouth and bellowed,

  “Let me introduce you to a man who needs no introduction! Please welcome, John ‘The Revelator’ Alexandeeeeeerrrr!!!” the music swelled over the screaming, Come with me now, I’m gonna take you down…

  Zander came out of one of the locker rooms at the end of the gym flanked by Trigger and Dragon, Doc trailing behind them with his big black medical bag. All of them wore their leather Sacred Hearts vests, Zander over his bare chest. He had on black satin shorts like boxers wear with white on the sides and his hands were taped up past the wrist, gleaming white under the overhead lights. When he leapt up into the ring I could see his feet and ankles had been similarly taped. They took to their corner of the ring, which seemed to have more than just four and the music stopped.

  The announcer started up again, listing off statistics of the man that Zander was about to face and the more he went on, height, weight etc., the more nervous I became. He sounded a lot bigger than Zander did, I leaned towards Evy…

  “I thought opponents were supposed to be of equal size and weight!”

  She looked about as nervous as I felt, “Me too, but look at the guys Mandy, they don’t seem phased in the slightest and this fight isn’t exactly legal, maybe those rules don’t matter so much,” I cast my eyes towards Zander, Trigger was shoving a mouth guard between Zander’s lips but Zander’s eyes were all for the behemoth coming out of the locker rooms. He was easily a head and shoulders taller than Zander and looked like a raging bull. He too was flanked on either side by men wearing Suicide Kings vests and no doctor followed in their wake.

  The announcer introduced the man as Bjorn ‘The Sweeper’ Elmquist and he was positively frightening. Long limbed and broad shouldered, he had this downright nasty and frightening look on his face. Scowl didn’t even begin to cover it, his features twisted hard into a mask of pure hatred and though I couldn’t delineate his eye color from here, there was no mistaking the intensity with which they burned. His long, light blonde hair was swept into a low ponytail which had been twisted into a knot at the nape of his neck, something that couldn’t be grabbed on to. His shorts were yellow with red at the sides and before he even set foot into the octagonal ring, I found myself praying hard and harder for Zander.

  “The fat guy in the denim vest, with the beard? That’s Griz. He’s their president. I don’t know who the other guy is,” Evy shouted over the screeching death metal that had accompanied Zander’s opponent’s arrival.

  Dray sat down on the other side of Evy and had evidently heard what she’d said, “Their fighter goes by the name Nord in their circle. The guy on his other side, that’s their Sgt. at Arms, calls himself Gordy. You doing okay, Red?” he asked me. I nodded mutely.

  “He’s going to be okay Mandy, I promise!” Everett squeezed my hand but I was glued to what was happening in the ring. Everyone but the two fighters and the referee had cleared out; the ref was giving the two men instructions. An electronic buzzer sounded and the ref backed out of the way as the two men circled each other.

  I bit my lips together, squeezed Everett’s hands and prayed harder than I ever have in my life, as Zander’s opponent made the first swing. Zander reared back and the punch went wide, and didn’t even touch him. Zander gave the man this icy cold grin and lit into the man with a singular fury that I simply didn’t see coming. Zander punched out and unlike his opponents, his punches landed. The man’s head snapped to the side and came back and then it was as if all bets were off, and the two of them went at each other with a brutality that I never in a million years imagined that Zander, with his loving touches and easy smiles, could ever be capable of.

  Blood and saliva arched, both men bleeding freely, Zander from a cut on his cheekbone and his mouth, the other man from a cut above his eye and his nose, and maybe his mouth as well. The fight stretched on, two minutes then five until finally with a savage grin, Zander punched The Suicide King in the face so hard the man toppled like a tree, his body hitting the mat and bouncing twice and as I stared, Zander fell upon him.

  He straddled the man’s hips and rained blow after blow with his left fist while he held the man to the mat with his right. Punch after punch, his jaw clenched, breath sawing in and out of his lungs as he beat the man who had given up all pretenses of trying to fight back, and instead was just trying to protect his head and neck with his arms. The taller, bigger man bucked his hips and scooted backwards across the mat and tried to get away from Zander.

  The man in the center of that ring, who beat the bigger man mercilessly, was not my Zander. He was some kind of demon sent straight from Hell. His deep brown eyes darkened with his pure, white hot rage as the crowd went wild around me. I felt sick. I stared, open mouthed as Zander continued to beat on the man even after he’d fallen unconscious. The referee shouted and made a motion with his arms, the bell started ringing and with a final punch to the man’s face Zander bolted to his feet. His chest heaved up and down with his hard breathing, and his eyes were fierce and wild and dark, his expression twisted into a mask of rage.

  He stared dispassionately down at the man before he raised both his arms in victory. Turning, he locked eyes with me and the look on his face was so stoic, so serene. It reminded me so completely of my father’s look after he’d slap or smack my mother or myself, I felt equal parts horrified and suddenly very ill, which must have shown on my face because Zander’s eyebrows collapsed into lines of confusion even as the referee gripped his wrist. I stood up abruptly and Everett let
me go. I think somehow she knew, I turned and crashed into Zeb who gripped my elbows to steady me.

  “Air! I need some air!” I blurted above the roar and stamping feet of the crowd.

  “Zeb! Duracell! Stay with her but take her out to catch her breath,” Dray ordered and the guys nodded, and one to either side led me out into the cold. Everett stayed behind with Dray, worry for me creasing her brow. I swallowed hard and let Zeb and Duracell shelter me from the crowd until we burst out of the too-hot, too-close gymnasium and out into the shrewd December night. I shivered and hugged myself. Zeb held up my coat for me, the cold air felt delicious but quickly became too much and I shrugged into my jacket, all the while taking deep cleansing breaths.

  “You okay?” Duracell asked and lit a cigarette, the red tip flaring in the dark as he sucked on it. I leaned back against the cinderblock wall and nodded.

  “What’s wrong Mandy-girl?” Zeb asked me, I opened my mouth and closed it. What was wrong with me?

  “I don’t know, I… One minute I’m watching the fight and then Zander wins and he looks at me and… I really don’t know!” my hands shook and I was grateful to have the wall at my back with how unsteady I felt on my feet. Zeb sandwiched my hands between his and rubbed them to keep them warm. I sniffed, my nose beginning to run from the cold and huffed out a breath which plumed the air between us.

  "Easy girl. Think you might be having a panic attack,” I shivered and fixed my gaze out over the parking lot. I nodded and tried very hard to get my erratic heartbeat to slow down, and to swallow the offending organ back down into my throat.

  “You’re cool, Red. Not everybody handles violence the same way,” Duracell said and I looked at him. He looked uncomfortable, like he wasn’t used to being supportive but rather just the opposite. He shifted on his feet and took another harsh drag off his cigarette. Reaver rounded the corner and his cool blue eyes that reminded me of the sky above the mountains landed on me, his face set into lines of resignation.

 

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