Blowback (16 page)

I laughed, too, but mainly from embarrassment. It was never clearer than it was in that moment that I didn’t fit into this world. Sure, I dyed my hair fun colors from time to time and I had a couple of tattoos, but it was all superficial. No matter how much of a badass I thought I was at times, I really wasn’t. I couldn’t imagine regularly going to watch people beat each other half to death for entertainment. I mean, this wasn’t
Monday Night Raw
. These people were in it to hurt each other for real. There was no predetermined winner. There was no showboating. There was no medical staff standing by in case of an injury. I was nowhere near prepared for any of it.

A hard thwack on the ass brought me back to reality.

“Oh, shit,” I exclaimed.

When I shot a glare at Big, he returned a smarmy grin.

“Smile, sweetie,” he said and threw his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close to his very large, very muscular body.

I reluctantly put my arm around his waist. I wasn’t hesitant because I was repulsed by him. In fact, I wasn’t, but it just didn’t feel like that was where I belonged. Trying not to make eye contact with anyone while we walked through the sparse crowd toward the warehouse, I surveyed my surroundings. The inside had to be where everyone was judging by the amount of vehicles outside.

A sign hung over the door that said, “All who arrive ain’t guaranteed to survive. Enter at your own risk.” 
Lovely,
I thought to myself. An ominous feeling weighed on me, like I might leave the place alive, but this version of me wouldn’t survive.

I took a deep breath and immediately let it out as we entered through the door under the sign. Big tipped his chin to a man collecting entrance fees, and we managed to get by without paying. The place smelled like stale sweat, old blood, and beer mixed with the pungent scent of bleach. My nose struggled to adjust to the oddly sterile stench. Someone clearly had the job of cleaning the place up, but I certainly didn’t envy them if the smell was any sign of what was to come that night.

“Yo, Big,” someone yelled.

A short, stocky bald man wearing a leather cut pushed his way through the crowd. “You thought any more about prospecting in?”

“No,” Big said. “Why the fuck would I want to do that?”

“Money, blow, all the bitches you can handle.”

“I’ve got all the bitches I can handle right here,” he said and smacked my ass again.

“You know that door is always open if you change your mind,” he said and slapped Big’s arm before moving off into the crowd. As he left, I got a better look at his cut, which had a dragon on the back of it with the words
Dragon Kings
scrawled in red. I ended up seeing that same symbol numerous times that night along with another cut adorned with the words
Harbingers of Ruin
. The two motorcycle clubs didn’t interact, and you could cut the tension with the swipe of your hand when any of them got too close to one another.

Big and I found ourselves near the front by what was presumably the fighting area. Somewhere in my mind, I’d expected to see a set up like a boxing or wrestling ring. This was nothing more than a makeshift “ring” formed by a barricaded area in the middle of the large room. Dried spatters of blood stained the concrete floor, highlighted by the powerful beams of light shining on it from above. The air was much warmer here, no doubt due to the high-powered lights.

I found myself looking here and there all over the room, aching to catch just one glimpse of Jet. I had to know he was okay. Why wouldn’t he be though? I didn’t know, but despite the toke I had earlier, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something big was about to go down. Something bad. Something I wouldn’t want to see and would never completely recover from.

CHAPTER 22 – JET

The moment before I stepped under the lights to hand someone’s ass to them was both the most terrifying and most exhilarating thing I’d experienced in recent years. Well, it was, until I got inside Evie again. Now, there was no comparison, and the rush I usually felt wasn’t as strong. For the first time since I started fighting years before, I found myself looking for a way to get away from it all.

That would have to come after, though, because
this
one was personal.
This
fight meant something. Of all the fights I’d ever had at the warehouse, only one other had ever felt the way that one did.

It’d been nearly six months since my last fight. My reputation had grown over the years, and fewer people were willing to risk crossing Niall. I fought more in the early days, but it was better that way back then because I needed the experience. I’d been trained by a retired mixed martial arts fighter named Tony, who owed Niall for fronting him some money to start up his training business. Teaching me how to fight and how to not get my ass kicked was how he paid the debt off. In some ways, he was more of a father figure to me than Niall ever was. It started out as a job for him, but pride grew in him from early on. He bragged that I was his student to anyone who would listen while I took down every scoundrel I faced.

He owned a little gym just outside Oakton, and I met him nearly every day to train. My time there had helped distract myself from missing Evie so damn bad when I first left her. Spending most of the day there while Georgia was in daycare had become my routine. One day I showed up only to find him lying in a pool of blood with his head bashed in. It didn’t take long for Niall to find out who did the deed. I never knew the fucker’s name, but he ended up facing me at the warehouse a few weeks later, and I didn’t hold back. He left this world in much the same way my mentor had.

This fight felt eerily familiar. Except I did know Preston Payne’s name, and I’d faced him before. I’d beaten his ass with ease the first time, and I’d do it this time, too.

The crowd was larger than it had been recently, but then when rumors spread that I’d be fighting, that was the norm. Niall’s money-making/enforcement scheme idea all those years ago had paid off. I’d even been approached at one point by a well-known professional MMA organization interested in recruiting me to fight for them after the CEO of the company had heard about our little organization and had come to watch me fight. Maybe in another life that could’ve been, but in this one, I had to be content with underground recognition and knowing that both Evie and Georgia were safe.

I stood in the doorway of the small room, waiting for my cue, when Flint came down the short hallway nudging Preston along. Seething, I stood tall, my eyes locking on him.

His eyes met mine, and in that split second, it took all I had to not kill him right there. I could see Jerney’s injuries as plain as day and wondered if he’d done a number like that on Evie. She definitely had scars, though they may not have been put there by him, but I would’ve bet my life that he did.

“You’re gonna take it easy, man, right? Like you said?” Preston asked, his voice cracking. His shoulders drooped, giving him a hunchback appearance. He wasn’t a small man, but he was accustomed to beating on women. When faced with a man, he was a straight up pussy.

I continued staring him down. Without so much as a blink of an eye, I said, “Not a fucking chance.”

“I cooperated. I told the truth,” he exclaimed. “I didn’t do anything wrong. You said you’d go easy on me.”

His voice trailed off as Flint forced him to turn the corner toward the main hall.

Moments later, the crowd came to life with boos and shouts of hatred toward a man most of them had probably never even met, but as far as I was concerned, he deserved everything they threw at him.

I cracked my neck and shook out my arms as I bounced up and down, psyching myself up. Come hell or high water, this fight would be the beginning of the end of my affiliations with Niall. Somehow, I’d find a way to get Georgia and me free of him. I could truly be with Evie then, maybe even start a family of our own. I just had to get through this fight first.

CHAPTER 23 – JET

I walked heavily and with purpose down the hallway, waiting for my name to be announced. When it was and I hit the room, the crowd damn near exploded with excitement. Hands reached out to touch me as I walked toward the fighting area, but there was only one person I needed to get a glimpse of. I never should’ve tried to seek her out, but I couldn’t help myself.

I stood in the middle of the room, looking out at the crowd. Thousands of eyes were on me, but only one set stood out. I caught sight of her pressed up against the barricade with Big standing close—too close—behind her. I’d deal with that later. For now, at least I knew she was safe, and that she’d see me payback her sick bastard of an ex.

She was maybe fifty feet away from me, but I could see the way her mouth hung open slightly and her eyebrows drew together. Her gaze darted back and forth between Preston and me.

Was she really concerned about that prick? Before I could put too much thought into it, I turned and marched right up to him, bumping him with my chest as I stared into his eyes. He took a step back, so I stepped to him again.

“This is gonna be just as sweet as it was the last time I knocked the shit out of you.”

“That was in the past, man. We were kids. Don’t punish me now for something I did back in high school.”

“Oh, I’m not punishing you for that. I’m punishing you for what you did to Evie after you married her.”

His eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. He began to stammer, no doubt trying to think of some kind of bullshit excuse.

“What? Didn’t think I’d find about that? I mean, surely you remember what I told you I’d do if you ever put your hands on her again… That’s what I’m doing tonight. This doesn’t have a fucking thing to do with Niall or that whore you paid to beat up.
This
is for Evie,” I said and pushed him.

He stumbled to the ground, but he rose to his feet a second later. As he stood tall, a look of determination crossed his face and he charged me. I sidestepped and stuck out my arm, effectively knocking him flat.

The crowd reached deafening levels, which only amped up the adrenaline flowing through my veins that much more. I could’ve pummeled him into oblivion while he laid there on the floor, but I didn’t want it to be over that quickly for him. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to feel the things Evie felt when he hurt her. I wanted him to fear for his life.

Rising to his feet again, he stood across from me, his knees slightly bent with his elbows out to his sides. He balled his hands into fists as his lips curled, exposing his teeth.

Putting my hands up, I motioned for him to approach me. “Come on,” I yelled over the crowd.

He inched his way forward and brought his fists up.

“Go ahead, take your best shot,” I said, turning my face to expose my jaw to him. “Do it!”

He swung, his fist making contact with my cheek. The blow sent me off balance for a second before I regained my composure. Not bad, but I was going to give it to him so much worse.

“Again,” I yelled. “Come on!”

This time, I exposed my other jaw, but before his fist could land, I blocked him and jabbed him in the gut. He doubled over, clutching his abdomen. A surge of shouts and screams echoed through the warehouse. I raised my hands, amping the crowd up. The place vibrated with energy.

He stood again. Charging me, he hooked his arms around my waist and sent us both crashing to the floor. I scrambled to regain control. A jolt to my ribs sent my breath spilling from me. If I didn’t get the upper hand now, I risked not being able to get it later. Wrapping my arm around the back of his neck, I pulled him to me and rolled.

As soon as I maneuvered myself on top of him, my fists rained down on his face. At one point, I grabbed his ears and slammed his head onto the floor before returning to beating him. His eyebrow split open, blood gushing from the wound. Foamy saliva trickled from his busted lip and down his chin.

My heart pumped like a drum thumping inside me. My chest heaved as I gulped for air. I stood and looked right into Evie’s eyes. I didn’t mean to. The less I looked at her, the less obvious it would be that she was someone who meant something to me, but she drew me to her without even trying.

I wasn’t sure what I expected to see. Gratitude? Exhilaration? Awe?

Horror. Disgust. Fear. That was what I found on her face instead, just like the last time. I should’ve known it wouldn’t be any different. I was a fool to think otherwise.

She shouted something to me, though I couldn’t hear it. Big wrapped his arm around her, preventing her from breaking her way through the barricade. Her eyebrows drew together and she appeared to be crying, though she was too far away for me to tell for sure.

I’d seen that look from many people before, but seeing it on her face made me want to vomit. How could she not think I was a monster when I was about to kill her ex-husband? How could I ignore the
way she’d reacted after the last time I brawled with Preston? Like she couldn’t stand the sight of me.

I’d let my thirst for blood cloud my judgement, and I’d lost her in the process. I could see it on her face. She was off limits to me, and the two of us would never work.

In a desperate attempt to save face with Evie, I turned and spat on Preston before walking away.

Niall cut me off as I turned the corner down the hallway.

“Why did you stop?” he asked, slapping the back of my head. “They were going nuts out there.”

“It’s over.”

“Yeah, I can see that, but why? You weren’t finished. I saw it on your face. You aimed to murder that man, so why did you show him mercy?”

“I’m just done, alright?” I said, shoving him out of my way.

“Who was that gash you kept looking at? The one with Big?”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” I said over my shoulder. “I wasn’t looking at anyone.”

“What’s her name?”

“I don’t know,” I said, knowing I technically wasn’t lying since I didn’t know what alias she’d chosen.

I continued walking and didn’t stop until I got to my car. My gut told me it was over for us before we’d even gotten started.