Lonely is the Night

by Stephanie Tyler

  She flashed to Benji and his CAT scan report and jumped onto Sonia’s back, held her to the floor even as she began to struggle. Grier knew none of the rules, only that she wouldn’t let this woman up off the mat. Not until the fight was called.

  She took Sonia’s arm and yanked it behind her back, until she cried out. Held her by the wrist, her hand still against the woman’s neck. She was maybe twenty-five, if that. Hispanic. Pretty.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, bent her head down low.

  In response, Sonia spit on the mat in front of her as she struggled viciously. Grier hadn’t expected an answer. If she’d gotten one, she suspected it would be more of the same answer she’d gotten from Benji.

  From under her, Sonia began bucking in earnest now. Grier was sweating. Shaking. Small withdrawals from the drugs, and if they didn’t ring the bell soon …

  “Knock her out!” a lone voice yelled out, right before Sonia threw her off and the crowd cheered. How did this work? Even Benji hadn’t told her. But now Grier understood. It wasn’t about pinning anyone to the mat. It was about knocking them unconscious.

  That was the rule—the person who stayed conscious won the fight.

  Grier backed away even as Sonia advanced. She had blood dripping from her lower lip and she sneered, not happy that Grier had gotten the best of her, if only for a few moments.

  Remember your training. Dealing with suspects was the same as dealing with this woman who wanted to bash her head in like a melon. She’d have to remain calm, not let her anger or fear get the best of her.

  She uncurled her fists and let her stance relax. Sonia stopped for a second as Grier took a step forward, because the confidence, the nonfighting stance confused her. Grier took advantage of that with another step and then another and they were too close to do any real fighting.

  “What the hell is your deal, lady?” Sonia hissed.

  “I don’t think you want to know.”

  “You a cop?” Sonia whispered, and the crowd had gone quiet, like they were trying to hear the words between them.

  “Would that stop you?”

  “No. I hate cops.” Sonia faked her out with a punch, and when Grier moved, Sonia kicked her twice in rapid succession, slamming the heel of her foot into Grier’s rib cage. She yelled in pain and frustration and went down. She could barely breathe when Sonia jumped on her, bashing her in the cheekbone with a closed fist. Twice.

  It was then that Grier stopped feeling pain and started getting mad as hell. And that was exactly what she needed to fight her way out of this. She rolled and slammed her foot into Sonia’s stomach, tossing her back onto the mat.

  Both women rolled far enough away from each other to regroup, to stand. But Grier was faster, reached out and slammed Sonia’s shoulder, making her lose her balance and nearly stumble back. Grier yanked her back with her other arm, slammed her to the mat with an arm behind her back to subdue her.

  It was just in time. She noted that Sonia had a knife in her palm—small, but it could do enough damage to get ugly. She thought about one of the moves Reid had shown her. It was the only reason she recognized it when it had been used on her last night. That night they’d spent together, they’d gone over pressure points, and although that had been more about touching than fighting, it still came in handy. Grier pushed her fingers along the side of Sonia’s neck, close to her collarbone and pressed hard until she slumped under her. Grier palmed the knife and let her fall to the mat as the crowd semibooed her. She supposed they’d have rather seen some real damage, a kick to the head, anything more violent than what had happened.

  She wished she could charge every one of them with accessory to murder.

  Chapter Six

  Reid couldn’t grab Grier before her fight. Could barely bring himself to watch for fear he’d try to run out and help her.

  They’d cut her hair off into a short bob. Had died it auburn but he’d recognize her anywhere.

  “She any good?” he pointed to Grier’s opponent.

  “League champ. We always pit the newbies against them. Fastest way to weed out the real losers.”

  Reid nodded, said a silent prayer to anyone who would listen. Because the drugs made her unbalanced and the street fighter had the advantage to begin with. Watching her, he could barely goddamned breathe. He’d never been nervous to fight in his life, but for her, he was a mess. His shirt was soaked with sweat and he fisted his hands against his sides as he watched her in the ring—vulnerable and alone—and then she’d used some of his best moves and she hadn’t merely survived—she’d fucking won.

  The crowd screamed. Reid had to plant his feet to the ground to stop himself from going to her, after Sonia went unconscious.

  Move, Grier … stand up and get away from her.

  Grier crawled a few feet away, grabbed the ropes to help her stand. Her cheek was swollen, her lip bleeding and she managed to walk to the middle of the ring toward the ref by herself. She was limping, a hand on her ribs but she was moving. The ref grabbed her wrist and raised her arm above her head and Grier winced at the movement. Reid breathed a sigh of relief that the fight was over.

  “She’s got to be former military too.” Hal was standing next to Reid. “No one here uses those moves. But hell, she was great. No one gets out of the ring with that one alive. Well, conscious, at least.” Giant man turned to Reid and slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t think you’re going to be as lucky.”

  “Yeah, I’ll need luck,” Reid mumbled, holding on to the ring in front of him to keep him place. Grier was getting helped out of the ring, because, even though she’d won, it had come at a price. He wanted to go to her, grab her, get her the hell out of here. But there would be no distraction for the crowd, because he was their next distraction.

  He just had to hope they weren’t taking her anywhere until all the fights were over.

  He climbed into the ring, barely listening to anything the ref announced. He came forward, shook Hal’s hand and waited for the whistle, his entire world focused on that sound alone. His adrenaline kicked into overdrive and he couldn’t stand still—he needed to get to her, and fast. And this psycho was standing in his way.

  He barely waited for the ref’s whistle, charged ahead when he heard it and bulldozed the man in his solar plexus with the top of his skull. Ears ringing, he stood as Hal remained doubled over. Reid grabbed the back of Hal’s head, pulled it up and then brought it down full force on his knee, hearing the crack of the man’s nose.

  Hal fell to his knees and Reid kicked him viciously in the back, near his kidneys. He’d be pissing blood for days. Reid had been the recipient of those blows himself.

  When Hal raised his head, he was smiling. This could go on all night—like Hal said, it would be a hell of a show—but Reid was too worried about them moving Grier to concentrate. And that would get him hurt worse than he was before he entered the ring.

  Reid watched the giant man bounce on the balls of his feet as the crowd cheered. If he could’ve reasoned with the guy, asked him to take a fall, he would’ve. But fighting here was all about the fighter’s standing. And standing equaled money.

  Reid would make sure Hal got some.

  “I’m going to go down,” Reid told him in his ear.

  “You bet you are.”

  Reid didn’t care if he didn’t understand. When he swung again, Reid moved slightly so the blow would catch him and then he went down onto the mat, the fucking giant body slamming him. Fucking overkill.

  Reid managed to keep his eyes shut and his body loose, and after several minutes, the ref called the fight and heavy hands picked Reid up. He wondered if they’d simply dump him into the street or if they had a room where they let the fighters actually wake up.

  *

  After the win, she watched two men she didn’t recognize come into the ring to carry the unconscious woman away. The ref came up beside Grier and lifted one of her arms in the air. She heard mainly boos and wanted to truly pu
nch the ref in the face for his involvement in all of this.

  When he let go of her hand, her trainer helped Grier out, patted her on the back and Grier stumbled, held on to the wall behind her. They were supposed to bring her back downstairs, she supposed. What they would’ve done had she lost, she shuddered to think about. But she’d won. Against a champion. She was on people’s radar.

  They wouldn’t be killing her anytime soon, but what was their plan?

  “Tonight’s the rookie’s lucky night.”

  She thought they were talking about her, but when she caught sight of the ring, she knew.

  Reid. He was bare-chested, a fire in his eyes, his hair under a black bandanna. He was fighting a monster of a man. Fighting for her.

  Reid was here for her. Saving her again.

  And you don’t deserve it worth a damn.

  Her throat tightened and her eyes stung with tears and it had nothing to do with the pain she was in.

  “Come on, Tara Lynn,” the bouncer said, grabbed her arm. “Mark’s happy—he made a lot of money off you.”

  “So glad to be of service. I’d like to be paid in cash.”

  “Let’s go.”

  “I want to watch the rest of the fights,” she told him. “I’m too hurt to run from you—where the hell am I going to go? Don’t touch me or I’ll make a scene.”

  “I’m really worried about that.”

  “You should be.” She moved the knife to where he could see it, mere inches from his side. She could easily bury it there and he knew it.

  His eyes widened and he backed off a little. “Don’t think when the fight is over I won’t take that from you.”

  “Counting on it,” she murmured low enough so he didn’t hear, her eyes focused on the ring in front of her, the knife poised at the ready.

  She’d seen Reid fight before. Seen him hurt too. But the crowd was screaming. They wanted a fight to the death and she wanted to put her hands over her eyes. But she was compelled to watch, because he was there for her.

  He was taking down the big man easily, and even though his opponent was getting back up, she knew it had to be because Reid was holding back. He’d told her as much, that he didn’t get into random bar fights any longer because he couldn’t. That was part of his oath, his creed. Simply put, he was stronger than most and could do far more damage in fewer moves. Permanent damage.

  She saw the bigger man take a swing, and her heart went into her throat when Reid didn’t move away or duck or take the advantage he had of kicking behind the man’s knee. Instead of fighting, Reid was down, the bigger man on him.

  She’d seen Reid fight before—and she was the only one here who knew he was going down on purpose. For her.

  It was a blur until the ref called the fight and then Reid was being dragged away.

  *

  It felt like he’d been run over. In effect, Reid had—twice in the past two weeks. He had marks on his leather jacket and fractured ribs to prove the first time, and now his ribs were worse and his entire body screamed for relief.

  He let the bouncer half carry him until they got just beyond the locker room door. Then Reid straightened. “Dude, I’m okay… gotta go.”

  “No one leaves until all the fights are done.”

  “Okay. Wanna watch.”

  “Doc’s gotta check you out first. House rules.”

  The bouncer went to grab him—Reid feigned left, kicked the man’s knee out from behind and locked him down with an arm across his throat. “Fuck. Your. Rules.”

  He knocked the guy unconscious, took his keys and his phone and shoved him into the nearest closet. No one would miss him until after the fight. Reid used the key to slip back out into the crowd and scanned for Grier.

  The women’s locker room was on the other side of the ring. He made his way through and he saw her there, standing against the wall with a bouncer about five feet from her.

  They locked eyes, and for that moment, everything else fell away. Relief coursed through his body because she was there and standing, not taken away someplace. That was pure luck on his side, that motherfucking guardian-angel thing again, and for maybe the first time ever, he was grateful as hell for it.

  *

  Grier didn’t tear her eyes from Reid as he came toward her, sliding easily through the crowd and somehow remaining unnoticed. If she hadn’t concentrated hard on him, she would’ve easily lost sight of him among all those people.

  But he was there, right next to her but not acknowledging her. He had to see the knife she was holding on the bouncer, though. He pushed off the wall and walked past her and the knife remained in place but the bouncer was on the ground. Reid stood in front of his unconscious body.

  “Put the goddamned knife down,” he told her without looking at her.

  She tucked it into her palm because she wanted it close. And then Benji came into the ring and the crowd went wild. This was the fight they’d been waiting to see. Torn between Reid and Benji and her instincts, she remained in place for a long moment. And then she moved back into the crowd slowly as the melee continued. She wanted them to swallow her up. She knew going to Benji was a bad idea, that getting out and calling for help was the best thing to do.

  But even so, she couldn’t move. Not when Benji’s opponent came out and he wasn’t an eighteen-year-old. No, he was at least thirty and he looked like he was out for blood. She swore she noted a fleeting expression of panic on Benji’s face, and she recalled the doctor explaining Benji’s head injuries to her.

  All it will take is another well-placed blow to paralyze him, leave him brain damaged or kill him instantly.

  “God, Benji, get down. Walk away. I’ll get you out of here,” she murmured to herself. She almost took steps toward the stage but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She assumed it was the man with the rings and she fought off the hold, turned to face him.

  It was Reid. “You faked going down.”

  “That’s the first thing you say to me?” he asked. “You were hit harder than I thought. Let’s go.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Grier, now.”

  “He’s going to die. You don’t understand.”

  “I’ve seen his records. Talked to Jack. But he’s made his choice.”

  “And I’ve made mine.”

  “And I’m taking it away from you.”

  Chapter Seven

  Reid had known it would be impossible to get Grier to leave as soon as they announced Benji’s name, but that couldn’t be helped. Still, he tried. He took her hand in his, moved her behind him so she’d be out of view of the men at the door.

  Where they thought she was, he had no idea. Maybe there was a miscommunication, but sooner than later, they were going to look for her. He pushed a little to get her to back up, and surprisingly, she did. They both let the crowd fold around them, most people too enthralled in the fight to notice them moving among them.

  Over the speaker system, they heard the ref’s whistle, and for a few moments, it was quiet enough to hear the sound of fist hitting flesh. Benji stumbled back, arms up over his face. When he moved them down to his sides, he seemed disoriented, blinked rapidly for a few seconds and then began the familiar bounce step.

  Reid knew he’d probably gotten another concussion from that first blow and this couldn’t end well. The crowd surged forward and Reid pushed Grier back until they were right near the exit. Even the guards were away from their posts, cheering the fight. This one was the moneymaker, the final fight in this area, he’d bet.

  “How much money’s riding on this?” he asked.

  “A million,” she told him, never taking her eyes from the ring. She paused, and no matter how hard Reid tugged at her, she wouldn’t move. Short of picking her up and carrying her, which would no doubt cause them to be noticed, he couldn’t do anything as she watched the final show.

  At first, Benji gave as good as he got. But Reid had little doubt that the man he was up against was taking steroids, giving him
an unfair advantage. That, coupled with the bigger size and more experience, meant Benji was no match for his opponent. And since the owners probably had money on Benji losing the fight, this wasn’t a fair setup at all.

  After taking the brunt of a roundhouse kick to the side of his head, Benji wobbled unsteadily. Blood dripped from his nose. His eyes looked unfocused, even from the distance Reid was from him. And Reid used the key to unlock the exit door and shoved Grier outside. She tried to open the door but it was locked. She peered through the grimy window and looked over her shoulder.

  “Stop him—you have to stop him,” she told Reid. “Unlock the door and go get him.”

  He glanced around the alley. “It’s too late. They’ll kill you, Grier. I can’t take that risk.”

  “Benji’s going to die.”

  “And that’s a risk he took on himself.”

  She knew that—but if she could’ve broken free from him, she would’ve been in the ring herself, stopping the fight.

  “Even if you’d stop it, it won’t matter. He was dead before he stepped in the ring. I saw the CAT scans. It wouldn’t have even taken a punch, necessarily. And he knew it.”

  “He felt like he had no other choice.”

  “There’s always a choice, Grier. You and I have been at this long enough to know that.”

  “He helped me.”

  “He got you kidnapped. He felt guilty. Not guilty enough to call the police to come help you,” he pointed out.

  “He’s as good as dead,” she snapped. “Don’t you care?”

  “I care about you. I can’t care about saving someone who’s got no interest in saving himself when he had the opportunity.” Reid sounded cold but his eyes told her that he felt as badly as she did. He just wouldn’t admit it, would stick to logic because that’s what got him through. And she knew she should be letting Reid lead her out of the alley, that she was risking both their lives for a witness who hadn’t cared about hers. But Benji was damaged, and she wouldn’t leave her witness behind.