Royally Screwed: A British Bad Boy Romance

by Jessica Ashe

  “I’ll stop if it gets too much,” I said to Alison.

  “You’ll be fine. The track is just a circle. Take it easy on your first few laps, and then push it out as you get more comfortable with it.”

  I was itching to get on with it. As hot as it had been outside, it was even hotter inside this steel cage. At least once we got moving there would be a breeze to blow the sweat from our faces.

  I started the car, put it in first gear, and pushed down gently on the accelerator. The car flew forward down the straight. I quickly cycled through the gears as the engine roared. We hit 60 mph without even trying, and had to ease off as we curved around to the right.

  The car might be fast, but it didn’t have any modern luxuries like power steering. I wrestled the car round the corner, and accelerated out.

  “You okay?” I yelled to Alison, struggling to be heard over the engine and the wind through the windows.

  “Fine,” came her curt reply.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  I looked around quickly and saw her laughing as the wind hit her face. It was a shame they didn’t have cameras in her like theme park rides did, because this would have made a great picture.

  Screw going slow. I put my foot down and we hit one hundred by the time the next corner approached. I laid off the pedal a bit, but made sure to accelerate out of the corner and we soon reached 120 mph. Each lap we got faster and faster, until I could barely grasp the steering wheel because of the intensity of the vibrations.

  “This. Is. Awesome!’ Alison yelled.

  She was holding on for dear life, and sweating almost as much as me, but I could tell she was loving every minute of it.

  “Not a bad first date,” I yelled.

  “What?”

  “I said, it’s not a bad first date.”

  Saying it once had been stupid. Saying it twice probably qualified me as a moron.

  Alison didn’t respond. I looked around again, and saw her smiling with her eyes closed. I chose to take that as a good sign.

  “Last lap,” I yelled. “Let’s really push this thing.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Alison

  “Stop grinning at me.”

  “I’m not grinning, I’m smiling,” Nora replied. “Can’t I be happy for my friend?”

  “Just don’t get carried away. It’s still early days.”

  The first thing I’d done after getting home was go round to Nora’s place to talk. If I hadn’t, she’d have been banging on my door demanding to be let in.

  “Stop worrying, and just enjoy the moment.”

  “I’m not worrying,” I insisted. “Not about Elliot anyway.”

  “So what’s bothering you? And don’t say ‘nothing,’ because I can read your face from a mile away. You’d be awful at poker.”

  I smiled, as I thought back to the last time I’d played poker and how that had ended. Then my smile disappeared as I remembered what had happened when I’d been in Elliot’s penthouse.

  “Do you have any coffee?” I asked Nora.

  “Of course I have coffee,” Nora replied. “Strong French roast? Or a mild Ethiopian blend?”

  “Strong French roast,” I replied. “I’m a little jet lagged, and I didn’t get much sleep on the plane.”

  “I know the feeling of being tired all the time from lack of sleep. Still, I much prefer orgasms to sleeping anyway.”

  “We only had sex that one time,” I said.

  “Really? I thought you’d be at it like, well, like Riker and me. I suppose we took things slow at first though. But it was complicated.”

  “So is this.”

  Nora boiled the kettle, while I ground some coffee beans in her kitchen. Just the smell of the coffee beans perked me up a bit, but it didn’t make the next conversation any easier.

  “Come on then,” Nora said, once I had the coffee in my hands. “What happened? How can that man have messed this up before it’s even begun?”

  “The problem isn’t anything to do with Elliot. Not directly anyway.”

  “Then don’t run away from him. He seems like a nice guy, so I imagine he’ll support you.”

  “I’m sure he would, but I don’t want him to know.” I sighed and took a sip of my coffee, even though it was still far too hot. “I didn’t tell you the truth about why I quit working at the hospital.”

  “I knew it,” Nora yelled. “That didn’t add up. You don’t make mistakes; you’re just not the type.”

  “I did make a mistake, but I had my reasons. The bit about me neglecting a patient is true. I fled the hospital after an appointment, and put him in someone else’s care. That was reckless, although the other doctor was at least as responsible as me for what happened.”

  “Okay, so what did you lie about.”

  “It was more an omission of a truth.”

  Now it was Nora’s turn to sigh. “You know, my mom always said you’d have made a great lawyer. I’m starting to believe her.”

  “Sorry. It’s just… hard to say.”

  Nora took me by the hand and led me gently into the lounge where we sat down on a sofa. She’d made a few upgrades to the furniture in the last few months, so while Riker and Nora weren’t quite living lavishly, they were comfortable.

  “I had an appointment that left me shaken up,” I explained. “The patient was an athlete. Part of the UFC like Elliot. Anyway, he was high as a kite. Cocaine, probably. He wanted me to sign him off as meeting the requirements of his organization, but there was no way I could do that. Not when he was in that condition.”

  “He got aggressive?”

  I nodded. “Very. At first he just shouted a bit. I tried to calm him down. I’m used to patients being like that, but then he stood up and confronted me. I turned to leave the room and get security, but he grabbed me.”

  Nora put her hand on mine, but didn’t say anything.

  “He put his hand around my throat and slammed me up against the wall. He spat threats at me and made me agree to sign the paperwork, but that wasn’t enough. Then he… started touching me.”

  “Did he—”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “He tried, but when he started tugging his pants down, I grabbed a needle and shoved it in his arm.”

  “Nice one. I mean, I’m so sorry, Alison. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Not often you’re speechless,” I said, forcing a smile. I’d started crying without realizing it.

  “You didn’t tell anyone at the hospital what had happened?”

  I shook my head. “I couldn’t bring myself to talk to anyone. I just ran. The attack wasn’t even the worst bit.”

  “It’s not?”

  “He reported me. He reported me. For sticking the needle in his arm. Combined with neglecting the other patient… well, it was either quit or be fired.”

  “Fuck. I just… fuck.”

  “Yeah, that pretty much sums up my reaction to the whole mess.”

  “And this is why you don’t want to be with Elliot? You don’t seriously think he’s capable of something like that do you?”

  “Oh God no. I’m sure he can get aggressive, but only if I want him to.”

  Nora laughed. “Yeah, I know all about that.”

  “Listen, you can’t tell any of this to Riker. He’ll tell Elliot, and Elliot can’t find out.”

  “Okay, whatever you want. But I do think you should tell Elliot. He’s a great guy, and he’ll support you.”

  “I can’t tell him,” I said firmly.

  “Why?”

  “Because the man who attacked me is Tyler Young.”

  “Oh shit. Tyler Young?”

  I nodded, just as I heard a jangling from a set of keys outside the door. I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes, before Riker noticed me.

  “Oh, hi, Alison. How was Vegas?”

  “Brilliant,” I replied.

  “Yeah,” he said with a grin. “I heard you had fun.”

&nbs
p; I gave Nora an accusatory glare.

  “Don’t act surprised,” she said. “You knew I’d tell Riker.”

  “True.”

  “Listen,” Riker said, as he sat down next to Nora. “I’ve been meaning to have a word with you about Tyler Young.”

  Nora and I both looked at each other and then at Riker, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “Uh, what about him?” I asked.

  “He’s trouble. I want to warn Elliot, but he’s too God damn arrogant to listen to me.”

  “What do you mean, ‘he’s trouble?’ ” Nora asked.

  Riker pulled up his t-shirt to reveal a scar on the side of his stomach. “Tyler Young fights dirty. He did this to me in prison. Brought a pair of scissors to a fist fight. I’ve watched a lot of his fights on television, and he’s still up to his old tricks. Nothing quite so obvious of course, but you can’t trust him. He’s going to want to beat Elliot, and he’ll cheat if he has to. I wish it were me fighting against him, but the next best thing is Elliot beating him. The guy’s a cheat.”

  “You should tell the UFC,” Nora said.

  “They’re not going to listen to me. I wouldn’t even know who to speak to.”

  “And if Elliot makes a fuss,” I said, “he’ll just look like he’s preparing to lose and making excuses.”

  “Exactly,” Riker agreed. “There’s no easy solution, but promise me you’ll keep an eye on him, okay?”

  I nodded, and quickly finished my coffee. The last thing I wanted to do was keep an eye on Tyler Young. Quite the opposite. I’d be happy if I never saw him again for the rest of my life.

  But Riker was right.

  I couldn’t just let Elliot wander into a trap.

  I had to do something. I just wish I knew what.

  Diary of Alison Harvey

  August 13, 2016 (one month ago)

  Take two. I let down my patient yesterday. That bothered me most of all. I’m angry at myself for that.

  I’m angry at Tim Norton for everything else. He attacked me. He nearly… he tried to rape me. And I let him. I should have reported him. That was as clear as day now. If I’d have reported him he would have been taken care of.

  Instead, I ran. I let him get away with it.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Elliot

  How the hell did you impress a doctor?

  Alison had been blowing hot and cold ever since that night she’d bailed from my penthouse. One minute we’d be getting along brilliantly—like at the race track—whereas the next she’d barely talk to me.

  We hadn’t had a fight that I knew of. Alison assured me things were fine, but that clearly wasn’t the case.

  The last few weeks had been a bit of a whirlwind for her, and what happened in Vegas had no doubt taken her by surprise. Perhaps a return to normality was in order.

  Time for a proper date.

  I booked a table at a restaurant that looked boring, pretentious, and overpriced. Just the sort of place to impress a doctor. They even had a dress code that required more than just wearing a shirt.

  I already owned a suit—another contribution from a sponsor—and it just about still fit. I’d packed on a lot of muscle in the last year, so it was more ‘slim fit’ than I’d have liked, but I still looked the part.

  Ties were another issue altogether. I’d only ever done my own tie for a court appearance, and that had been many years ago now.

  “Hey Anders,” I said to the doorman on the way out. “Can you help me with this?”

  “Certainly Mr. Michaels.” He took the tie and wrapped it around his own neck, before tying the knot and leaving it loose enough to pull back off his head and fit around mine. I tightened it, and examined myself in the mirror.

  It would have to do.

  “Are the courts still open at this hour?” Anders asked dryly. He wasn’t English, but he had every bit the English sense to humor.

  “I’ll have you know, I have a date tonight,” I replied.

  “That’s not how you usually dress for dates.”

  “This one is a little special. Goodnight, Anders.”

  “Good luck, Mr. Michaels.”

  I’d offered to pick Alison up, but the restaurant was walking distance from both our apartments and she’d insisted on going alone. At least she’d agreed to meet me. I kept expecting excuses; Alison never sounded keen to do anything I suggested. However, instead of fobbing me off, she agreed to come along.

  The last thing you wanted on your way to a date was to feel your phone vibrate with an incoming message. Here we go, I thought. She’s going to to cancel on me. The message wasn’t from Alison.

  Percy had decided to start earning his ten percent and had sent through a large video file with footage of Tyler Young for me to study before the fight. I couldn’t just show up for this fight and expect to win. I was going to have to work for it.

  Never mind. That could wait.

  My experience with dating was painfully limited, and I fell at the first hurdle; Alison arrived before I did.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I said to Alison, as I sat down opposite her at the table.

  “You’re not late,” she replied. “I just got here early.”

  “I’m still sorry. I wish I’d got here earlier just so I had more time to look at you in that dress. You look exquisite.”

  I’d definitely never described any former lovers as exquisite. Plenty of words came to mind to describe the way my dates usually dressed, but exquisite was not one of them.

  The blue strapless dress didn’t reveal any of her cleavage, but the soft skin of her chest held my attention just the same. She’d tied her hair up, revealing the long neck I’d nuzzled just a few days ago in Vegas.

  “You look…” Alison paused as she stared at me in all my glory. “Uncomfortable.”

  “Oh thanks,” I exclaimed. “Are you sure I don’t look exquisite perhaps?”

  Alison laughed. “I’m sorry, you look lovely. I’m just not used to seeing you so covered up. I never seen you in anything other than shorts and t-shirts.”

  “I can dress up if the occasion calls for it.”

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “Dinner with you.”

  “You really didn’t need to go to all this effort,” Alison said. “I wanted to see you anyway.”

  “It only seems fair. When we went driving, you dressed up in clothes you weren’t comfortable in for my benefit. I’m doing the same for you.”

  “I didn’t wear those clothes for your benefit. I wore them because it was hot outside.”

  “Admit it, you wore them partly to get my attention.”

  Alison pursed her lips, and tried to look mad, but she ended up breaking out into a smile. “Okay, I didn’t dislike the way you looked at me that day. I can see why women dress like that. It’s certainly good for the confidence.”

  “I wish I could say the same. I cannot for the life of me understand why men dress like this. The tie and collar are practically choking my neck, and the tight trousers are choking my—”

  “Can I interest you in anything from the wine list, sir?” the waiter asked. He spoke to me as if Alison weren’t there.

  God, I hated this place.

  “You choose,” I said to Alison.

  “Red or white?” Alison asked.

  “Red would be best. I plan to have a steak so rare the closest it gets to the grill is a limp handshake.”

  Alison ordered a bottle of Merlot, and the waiter promptly came back with a sample for her to try.

  “Lovely,” Alison said, letting the waiter pour us a glass each.

  “Good vintage?” I asked.

  “Not a clue,” she replied. “It tasted like red wine. That’s about the extent of my knowledge on this stuff.”

  “And here was me thinking that you doctors had expensive tastes.”

  “Some do. Most of them just like being pretentious assholes.”

  We both remained silent while we took a few sips of the wi
ne. Alison looked in a good mood again, but I knew that could quickly change.

  These weren’t just mood swings. Alison wasn’t the temperamental sort, so that meant something was bothering her.

  It had to be the fighting.

  All this had started when she’d heard the news about me getting a fight with Tyler Young. Perhaps she was worried about the danger I was putting myself in. That made sense given her prior comments, but it didn’t really jive with the fact that we’d had sex straight after the last fight. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that me fighting turned her on, but it hadn’t exactly done any harm.

  Whatever the case, tonight was about me proving to her that I wasn’t just a fighter. Violence had ruled my life up until now, but it didn’t always have to be that way. I’d always be a fighter, but I could also be the guy who takes her to dinner at snobby restaurants.

  “Thank you,” Alison said out of the blue.

  “For what?” I asked.

  “For this. For putting yourself in that suit—which I still think is hilarious by the way—and for bringing me so far out of your element. And for being patient.”

  “I’m a patient guy.”

  “No you’re not.”

  “Yeah, that didn’t sound too convincing, did it? I can be though. I want to know what’s bothering you, but I can’t do that unless you tell me.”

  “I will tell you, I promise.”

  “When?”

  “Tonight. At my place.”

  “We’re going back to your place?” I asked.

  “I think we should. Restaurants like this get a bit funny when people start having sex on the tables.”

  My eyes opened wide, as Alison smiled and looked down at the menu.

  I looked over to the waiter to get his attention. Suddenly I wanted this meal to be over with as quickly as possible.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Alison

  My brain hadn’t quite processed what was happening. That was probably for the best. My brain wasn’t to be trusted at times like this.