No Mercy: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World)

by D. M. Davis

  I squeeze his hand and shake my head. He shrugs, smiling, and leans in. “Gabriel found his angel.” His eyes plead with me to not take away his hope. “Maybe I just found mine.”

  “Oh, God.” I pat his leg. Not my battle to fight.

  Who am I to squash a man’s hope in finding his own happily ever after? Not me. And not Gabriel, if I have anything to say about it. I leave him be to dig his own hole. It’s up to him if it’s a grave or a means to plant a seed that could flourish into something neither of them expects.

  I smile at Sloan as he sits on the other side of me while Walker and Landry file in beside him. I wave at Grant and Emmy sitting on the other side of them. I assume the last two seats are for Cap and Warren, Cap’s Vegas gym manager.

  My attention roams around the arena as I take in its massive size in awe. It’s nearly packed. Gabriel’s bout is the last fight of the night. I didn’t look to see how many came before his. I only know his is the main event, and I’m filled with warmth and pride knowing he’s made it this far. He’s worked his ass off for this and deserves every accolade bestowed upon him.

  When the music changes and the spot lights go crazy shining around the arena, the audience erupts in cheers and screaming fans. They might be cheering for Killer González for all I know, but my heart is racing for one man and one man only.

  As we rise to our feet, Gabriel’s fight song, “Bawitdaba” by Kid Rock, blares through the sound system. Rowdy grabs my hand and nods to the silhouette of man eating up the space around him as he steps from the shadows and into the spotlight. My gaze zips to the jumbotron above our heads. Gabriel’s fierce glare from under his brow as he looks up with his chin down, sends tingles down my spine. He’s ready to devour, and it looks like Killer González is on the menu this evening.

  As the world goes crazy around me, my focus narrows, only seeing my man making his way down the aisle to pass right by our seats. When he nears, his ferocious gaze locks on me as if he knew right where’d I’d be and that I’d be watching. Of course he did.

  My pulse pounding to the beat of the music in anticipation, I bite my lower lip. His eyes drop. His nostrils flare, and then he kisses his fingers sticking out of his fingerless gloved hand, says something I can’t make out, and raises his fist to the heavens. All the while, his eyes never leave mine.

  When he passes, he looks back over his should, his head low. Eyes on me, he winks and mouths, “Wife.” His smirk is gone as soon as it appears. Then he’s all business, looking ahead, bounding up the stairs to strip down to his tight-fitting shorts, flexing and spinning for all the world to see his avenging angel tattoo on his back and a muscled body, sculpted to perfection.

  The crowd goes crazy, and I nearly pass out.

  My Angel is hot as fuck sitting in my row with my mom and sister near and my guys surrounding them. My pack is strong. My mojo is on fire. And my destiny is in my grasp.

  In the octagon, I bounce on my feet, shaking my arms to stay loose as I watch my girl out of the corner of my eye. My body responds to her heated gaze as she tracks my movements. I punch out puffs of air, calming my cock, and draw the blood to where it’s needed. But damn, my woman is gonna feel me tonight.

  The current champ makes his way to the octagon. I don’t grant him the privilege of my eyes, or the acknowledgment of his existence as they announce our fight, calling my name, listing my stats and then his. I hope he was listening, as it’s the last time they’ll say he’s the current reigning and defending heavyweight champion.

  After tonight, those words belong to me.

  I catch sight of my girl before the ref calls us over. She’s holding her hands to keep from fidgeting. I know she’s worried. I don’t think for a second her worry is about my skills or ability to win. This is about the what ifs she has running in her head. It’s not only me or her any longer. We’ve got a little one to consider. To look out for. To plan for. She doesn’t want to do it alone. She will if she has to. She’s a rock. But she’d rather not. She wants our family safe and sound as much as I do. And in the last six months, she’s been in the hospital twice. She knows life can change in a split second. A fucked-up boyfriend. A fall down the stairs. A kick to the head. She knows unexpected things can happen when you least expect it.

  I know it too.

  But not tonight.

  I’m here to claim my title.

  Then grab my destiny by the balls by marrying my Angel.

  The bell rings. I shake it all loose, charging before Killer even catches his breath and land the first of many blows he’ll come to regret.

  “Breathe, Frankie.” Sloan leans over. “We made it through two rounds. He’s doing great. By the numbers alone, if he doesn’t knock him out, Gabriel is sure to win by a majority decision.”

  Rowdy joins our conversation, amped up and excited. “He’s barely even gotten hit. He’s taken a few on his legs and sides, but not a single punch or hit to the head or face. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “I told him I didn’t want to see him get hit,” I share as I watch Coach and Jonah work on him, feed him water, and talk strategy in the short break between rounds. I glance at Sloan and Rowdy when their excited chatter stops. “What?”

  Rowdy laughs. “You asked him not to get hit?”

  “No.” Of course not. “He wanted to know why I was so nervous. I told him I wasn’t sure I could sit here and watch him get hit.” I look between them. “I’ve watched hundreds of fights, but tonight feels different.”

  “What’d he say?” Sloan asks.

  “He’d do all the hitting, then.”

  They sit back, laughing. “I guess it’s a strategy that’s working for him.” Sloan shakes his head in amazement. “That’s near impossible, you know that, right?”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Rowdy squeezes my hand. “He’ll be fine, Frankie. But if he does get hit, don’t freak out. If you lose it, so will he, trying to get to you.”

  For some crazy reason, the idea loosens the knot in my gut and brings a smile to my lips. I’d love to see him climb over the fence—bypassing the gate altogether—and come to my rescue. Showing me he’s just fine. I don’t want him to lose. But the idea of him being safe by my side and no longer fighting is no small thing either.

  I jump when the bell rings, signaling the beginning of the third round. Gabriel comes at his opponent like he’s not even winded, getting him in a grappling hold and flipping him over, body slamming him like a sack of flour and leaving Killer splayed out on the mat. Gabriel bounces on his feet, giving his opponent time to get up.

  Killer, on the other hand, is more than winded. He’s bleeding from a cut above his eye and one on his cheek from a spinning wheel kick that nearly took him out in the last round. But it’s the cut lip he received in the first seconds of the match that shocked everyone. Gabriel punched him so hard, his head fell back, and he swayed for a few beats before regaining his wits. For a moment, it seemed like Gabriel would win by KO with only one punch thrown.

  Killer has been on the defensive ever since. Gabriel’s offense is too superior to offset. It’s only a matter of time. Gabriel is playing with him, biding his time before he goes in for the kill. I know it. The guys know it. Only I don’t think it’s registered in Killer’s mind. He’s about to lose his title.

  Just when I’m starting to feel cocky, like Gabriel’s got it in the bag, I catch his eye and instead of moving on, he locks on me. He doesn’t see Killer moving in.

  “Gabriel!” I holler as Killer lands a right hook across Gabriel’s left cheek. My stomach twists, and I think I might puke. I punch out air through my mouth in quick bursts, trying to quell the nausea.

  Rowdy grabs my arm. “Are you gonna be sick?”

  I keep blowing air, shaking my head, trying to calm my racing thoughts and my body’s base reaction. Out of nowhere, a blue emesis bag appears in my face. I glance at Emmy as she leans forward, sympathy showing all over her face. I can’t believe she thought to bring a puke
bag in case I needed it. Thank you, I mouth to her.

  Rowdy rubs my back as my eyes land back on the cage.

  Gabriel comes back from bouncing off the fence with a right foot push kick, knocking Killer off his feet. Gabriel shakes his head, still recovering from the blow Killer landed seconds before.

  “No mercy!” I scream over the crowd. He needs to end this before he gets hurt.

  The guys take up the charge and start chanting no mercy, getting louder each time. It’s not long before our entire section raises up our call in one voice, “No Mercy!”

  A wicked smile comes over Gabriel’s face as he bounces on his feet, circling, and lands kick after kick, and knee strike after strike before taking Killer down with a choke hold. But Gabriel likes his power moves. He doesn’t want this guy to tap out or simply pass out from lack of air. Gabriel likes his endings more dramatic.

  Releasing Killer before he does pass out, Gabriel gets to his feet, circling.

  Waiting.

  Gabriel is winded but nowhere near tired. He could do this all night. But God, I hope he doesn’t. I’m not sure I can take much more.

  When Killer gets to his feet, Gabriel wastes no time.

  A jab to Killer’s chest throws him off balance.

  Gabriel follows it up with a sweeping head-kick to Killer’s jaw.

  I’m on my feet screaming.

  It’s lights out for Killer.

  He goes limp and falls back like he’s gonna do snow angels—arms and legs sprawled.

  Gabriel follows him down for a little ground and pound, but stops when he sees Killer isn’t moving. Gabriel backs away, breathing hard, still bouncing, ready to continue.

  The ref steps in. Killer rouses a few seconds later, but it’s too late.

  Gabriel won!

  The crowd goes wild.

  I can’t even hear my own screams over the roar of the crowd.

  Gabriel is WickedTuff’s new heavyweight champion, the largest MMA organization in the US.

  He wins by head-kick knockout.

  Figures, my man doesn’t do anything small.

  “She rides with me.” Showered and my eyes locked on the closed door as if my Angel is gonna step through it at any second, I finish dressing.

  Jonah quirks a brow. “That’s a given.”

  “Alone.”

  “Nope. If you two get alone for even a minute, we won’t see you for the rest of the night.”

  True.

  “Give us an hour, then you two can sneak out.” He pushes an icepack in my hands. “Besides, you need to ice, hydrate, and rest. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

  Speaking of. “Do you know where Cap is?” I press the ice to my cheek. Figures I’d have a bruised face for my wedding. I hope she doesn’t mind.

  “He and Emmy have everything handled. You’re all set for two o’clock. Emmy will pick up Frankie at eleven.”

  “Noon.”

  He looks up, ready to argue, but decides against it. “I’ll let her know.”

  “And, Jonah? I appreciate you being here these last few months, putting up with me, getting me to this point.”

  “Welcome.” He grabs our bags and eyes me. “Ready?”

  “Born ready.”

  He scoffs. “Cheesy fuck.”

  I shrug. “It sounded good in my head.”

  “It should have stayed there.” He laughs.

  When the door opens, my Angel comes off the wall where she’s standing with my mom, sister, Rowdy and Cap. After I was declared the winner by KO, I only got to see Frankie for a second before the guys shoved me in the dressing room backstage, forcing me to shower—without her. Not my first choice.

  I meet her half way. “You okay, Angel?” I saw the stress on her face after the fight. I heard her screaming for me to have no mercy. I lost my concentration for only a moment. But her and everyone else yelling and cheering for me got me back on track.

  “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Her hand feathers across my cheek where that numbnuts landed a blow.

  “I’m good.” I grip her waist and pull her closer. “Perfect now that I’m with you.”

  She leans into me, her breath tickling my neck. “Same.”

  “One hour, then we take our celebration back to our room.” I link our fingers and guide her back to my family and Rowdy.

  “Sounds good.” Her sweet smile has me wanting to change our time clock to one minute instead.

  I hug my mom and sister, leaving their safe return to the hotel in Rowdy’s hands. Celebrating with a bunch of people is not their scene. I understand. Neither of them does well in crowds. I’m still shocked as hell they made it here tonight. It means more than either of them will ever know to have them see me succeed when my father told me I would never amount to shit. He was wrong about me—about all of us.

  I notice the look on Rowdy’s face when he eyes my sister. I pull him aside, arm around the back of his neck, maybe tighter than necessary. Maybe. “Listen. I owe you for what you did for my Angel.” I catch his eye as he pushes back, coming face to face. “I’ll forgive you for kissing Frankie, but I will end you if you touch my sister.”

  He flinches as if my words put ideas in his head he wasn’t even considering. He’s a guy. I know what he’s thinking. All. The. Fucking. Time. “Clear?”

  “Clear.” He glances over my shoulder and back to me. “This won’t be the last conversation we have about this.” He presses in, bold as hell. “Clear?”

  My evil smirk doesn’t even have him wavering. Good for him. “Look forward to it.”

  We head out, my girl under my arm, close by my side.

  I feel like I can breathe again.

  We stayed to celebrate with the gang for a grand total of fifteen minutes. The guys didn’t seem to mind. They know what it’s like after a fight. Even if I did win the biggest match of my career, I’m still one tired fuck. The only thing keeping me going is the adrenaline and the idea of burying myself deep inside my fiancée.

  My fiancée. I like the sound of that. Too bad I only get tonight and a short time tomorrow to use it.

  Frankie steps out of the bathroom, towel tucked in under her arms. She wanted a quick shower. I couldn’t deny her. It gave me time to ice my face and the bruise on my side, and down a few anti-inflammatories.

  I point to the cart. “I ordered some food, since I dragged you out of the party before we ate.”

  She moves toward me. “You didn’t drag me. I was happy to come.” She glances at the cart. “Whaddya get?”

  “Steak and French fries.”

  Her face lights up like Christmas morning. “Oh, God. Steak sounds so good.” Her hand aimlessly rubs her tummy. I don’t even think she’s aware of it. It’s a beautiful sight, her standing there in my room, nearly naked and pregnant with my baby. It’s a sight I never thought I’d see—I never dared dream. But fuck if it doesn’t feel right, meant to be.

  “Here.” I hand her one of my t-shirts. I don’t even hide my appreciation as she slips it on over her head and drops the towel to the floor. I discarded my suit the minute we stepped into our room, trading it for athletic shorts.

  Settled on the edge of our bed, forgoing the dining room table for the portable table they delivered the food on, I pull her close and kiss her head, then remove the domes to reveal the steaming goodness below. “Eat, Angel. Feed our baby.”

  She giggles and bumps me with her shoulder. My ribs bite, but I’ll never let her know. Besides, my girl giggling is a new experience. I’ve heard Frankie laugh through the years, but never giggle until this morning when she mentioned kneeling before me.

  My cock hardens at the idea. Down, beast, it’s not time yet.

  We dig in. My girl moans around her first taste of the steak. I nearly lose it. I stifle my groan with a bite twice the size and chew more aggressively than necessary. I’m not sure I’ll make it through this meal without her sitting on my cock.

  Fuck. Now I’m fully hard.

  “Did you notice the
connection between Rowdy and Reese?”

  Yep, that’ll do it. My beast decides to take a nap, rest up for later.

  “Yeah, I noticed,” I grit through my clenched jaw. Reese is a can of worms I’m not sure Rowdy is prepared to handle. He may have the best intentions, but she’s been through more than he may care for.

  “And?”

  “And I don’t like it.”

  My Angel giggles again, her hand landing on my thigh, squeezing.

  The beast takes notice.

  She peers up at me. “I don’t know the story there, and we don’t have to talk about it tonight—”

  “Ever.”

  The hurt in her eyes has me turning toward her, cupping the back of her neck. “There are things you don’t know.” I study the spot on her neck as I caress it with my thumb. She swallows, and I feel the effort like she’s pushing down, hiding her feelings from me. That won’t do. “I promise to tell you all of it… Soon.”

  She slips her arm between us, capturing the back of my head and pulling me down so we’re face to face. Close enough to kiss. Close enough to devour. Close enough to see the compassion in her eyes. “I was going to suggest you get to know Rowdy before you dismiss what he has to offer.”

  Her grip tightens, and her chin wobbles, and damn if it does soften my heart to her request.

  “He almost gave up his life for me. To take care of your baby. You need to give him a chance.”

  Unable to hold back, I take her mouth for too short a ride, but fuck if it doesn’t feel like everything.

  Breathing hard, I pull away. “Okay.”

  Her smile is endearing. “Just okay?”

  Releasing her reluctantly, I turn to my food, determined to let her eat before I wear her out and she requires more fuel. She needs to start with a full tank. “Yeah, I’ll give him a chance, but if he breaks her heart, I break him.” I shove a piece of steak and few fries in my mouth, chewing, encouraging her to do the same.

  She slowly moves back to eating, but not before whispering, “You broke my heart before you got it right.”