Fighting Dirty: A Stepbrother Romance (When The Gloves Come Off Book 2)

BOOK: Fighting Dirty: A Stepbrother Romance (When The Gloves Come Off Book 2)
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Fighting Dirty 2

Lila Moore

 

Copyright ©2015 Lila Moore

First published by Lila Moore 2015

Distributed by Amazon

All characters depicted in this story are over the age of eighteen.

 

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Riley

 

 

 

Liam takes punch after punch. I close my eyes and look away.

“Open your eyes. Your stepbrother’s losing it,” Tony says.

He sounds excited, as if the sight of a man being beaten to within an inch of his life is arousing. I keep my eyes firmly shut. I don’t want to see this.

“I said, open your eyes.”

Suddenly, Tony’s trying to force my eyes open. I twist away from him and scream. The sound is lost in the cacophony of shouts coming from the crowd. I hit Tony’s hand, slapping it away. This sends him into a rage. He grabs my wrist and twists it around my back, then forces me onto his lap.

“Sit on Daddy’s lap and watch,” he says disgustingly.

He kisses my cheek and laughs in my ear. His lips are wet and slimy on my skin; his breath clammy. I want to retch. I struggle to get away from Tony, but it’s pointless. His hold on me is like iron.

“Look,” he whispers in my ear.

I force myself to look at the ring. Liam’s arm is covered in blood. It glistens off his muscles, slick and wet. His eyes are swollen badly and he’s breathing hard. He sways a bit as if he’s dizzy. The sight brings tears to my eyes. I never wanted any of this. I don’t want to watch him be beaten. I close my eyes.

There’s a terrible roar from below as if the building is being pulled apart. I open my eyes. The crowd is going wild. People shout and jump. Rage boils inside me. They’re celebrating Liam’s demise. I wish the building would collapse and kill them all.

Then I see him.

Liam’s still standing. The Russian is gone. The Ref grabs Liam’s hand and lifts it in the air. He won.

I laugh. I jump to my feet and clap. I scream my support, though I doubt he hears it. It’s then I remember that Liam was supposed to go down in the fourth round. We’re fucked. I look over my shoulder at Tony. He’s smiling up at me. He couldn’t be more pleased with the situation, but why?

Liam

 

 

 

 

Tony grabs Riley and drags her out of the box seat and down the stairs. I try to push through the crowd to get to them, but it’s like trying to walk through a brick wall.

A mass of people run at me. They lift me up on their shoulders and carry me. I crowd surf over them and try to force them to carry me to Riley, but that’s like trying to control the flow of a river by tossing a pebble into it.

They’ve turned into a mob full of people who are excited by the violence and blood of the fight. Half these people are pissed because I just cost them a lot of money. The other half are delirious with excitement. I’ll be lucky I if I can get out of the building without being ripped apart.

There was a time when being the focus of the crowd’s affections would have excited me, but now all I can think about is Riley. And it’s too late. Helplessly, I watch as Tony and his bodyguards leave through a side exit. Tony’s got a hold of her wrist. He’s squeezing tight and dragging her behind.

Riley’s not making it easy for him. She’s got her heels dug into the ground and she’s twisting away from him. Tony’s unfazed by it. He may be short and overweight, but you underestimate him at your own cost. He’s a lot stronger than he looks. He pulls her behind him easily.

They disappear out of the club.

The crowd pulls me in the opposite direction. I need to get to Riley before it’s too late. Tony will force her to work in one of his whorehouses or worse. I manage to wrestle free of the grip the crowd has on me. I fall to the floor with a hard thump. My feet get knocked out from under me and I land on my ass.

In the crowd’s rush to help me they practically trample me. Suddenly Lou’s standing before me. He wraps an arm around me and lifts me to my feet. People cheer. A man tries to force a drink into my hand; a woman I don’t recognize is screaming in my face: “Remember me, Liam? Remember me?”

“Enough!” Lou’s voice booms.

The people around me take a step back.

“The kid will drink with you later. Now he needs to get cleaned up.”

The only people who can hear him are the ones standing in our immediate vicinity. They let out a loud groan. The rest of the room still wants a piece of me. Lou wraps an arm around me protectively and leads me through the crowd. Using him as a shield is like a magic bullet. People step aside, leaving a path for us so we can make our way to the back rooms.

Lou opens a door to one of the storage rooms and shoves me inside.

“Lou, I’ve got to go. They took-” I stop midsentence when I see The Russian sitting on a bench. He’s covered in blood and sweat. He glares at me when I enter. “What the fuck is he doing here?” I ask Lou.

“We need to talk,” The Russian says.

“I don’t have time to talk to you.”

“The fight was fixed.”

His words give me a moment’s pause, but ultimately the fight doesn’t matter. Riley’s what’s important now.

“I have to go,” I say.

He stands up quickly, blocking my path. The last time I saw him, he was unconscious; he seems to have recovered quickly.

“I’ll give you a real fight if you want one,” he says.

I laugh. “Nothing would make me happier, but I have something more important to deal with.”

The Russian doesn’t move out of my way.

“I threw the fight,” he says.

I step around him and head for the back exit.

“Did you hear me? I let you win. What I want to know is why you held back? Why were
you
trying to throw the fight? And why did you stop?”

“I wasn’t trying to throw the fight.”

“Bullshit. Tony put you up to it, didn’t he?”

I don’t say anything.

“Of course he did,” The Russian says. “Who else would? But you didn’t go through with it. Do you want to know who asked me to throw the fight?”

“I don’t care.”

“It was Tony.”

I’m halfway out the door, but that stops me in my tracks. I look down the alley. There’s no sign of Tony, his men, or Riley. They’re already long gone.

“Tony set you up,” Lou says.

It’s not until Lou says it that I realize he’s right. Tony threatened me, kidnapped Riley and blackmailed me into fighting. But he lied to me. He planned on keeping Riley all along. Was this about me or her?

“Was that your girl?” The Russian asks. “She has a nice ass on her. Pity. When Tony’s done with her, she won’t be so pretty anymore.”

The familiar stirring of heat and anger boils inside me.

“What do you know about it?” I ask.

I run up to him and get in his face. If he wants a real fight, I’ll give him one now.

“Easy,” he says, holding up his hands. A shit-eating grin spreads across his face. “I don’t want to fight over your girl.”

Lou jumps between us. “Save it for the ring,” he tells me.

I keep my eyes on the Russian.

“What did Tony tell you?” I demand.

“About your girl? Nothing. About the fight? He wanted me to throw it in the third round. He promised me a big payday. I did not want to ruin my perfect record, but as you well know, you don’t say no to Tony.”

The Russian did not have a perfect record, but I let it go. What mattered was that Tony was trying to trap me. He was setting me up for failure. I look over my shoulder at the back exit. Normally, Tony has a guy at all the exits keeping lookout. This is not the kind of club anyone can walk into. What goes on here is illegal. They can’t risk letting undercover cops come in. If you want inside you have to know the right people. Security was usually tight, but tonight everyone was gone. It was especially odd considering, I’d just defied Tony’s express wishes. I would expect to see a guy waiting to escort me to my death.

“Everyone’s gone,” I say speaking more to myself than anyone in the room.

“You’re starting to understand,” the Russian says.

“We need to get out of here now,” Lou says.

As if on cue, shouts and sirens erupt from inside the club. A loud megaphone voice says: “You are under arrest. Do not run. Do not resist arrest.”

“Shit. We need to get out of here.”

“This way,” the Russian says.

Riley

 

 

 

I sit alone in a dim room. The walls are dark and made from a strange material. It takes me a second to realize what it is: sound proof insulation. No matter how loud I scream no one will hear me.

I stand in the middle of the room fidgeting. There’s a bed that takes up most of the space. No way am I touching it. It has silk sheets and four bedposts with restraints hanging from them.

This is really bad. I need to get out. I tried to open the door twice already, but it’s locked. There will be no escape.

Someone has laid out a black negligee with thigh-high stockings and high heels across the end of the bed. I’m supposed to dress, then wait. I refuse to put it on. I’ve never worn anything like that before and I’m not going to start now.

The wall behind the bed is a mirror. The image that greets me is borderline unrecognizable. I normally wear my hair pulled up in a messy bun. Today it’s hanging long and wild, a messy rat’s nest of curls. My mascara is smeared, giving me a smoky raccoon-eye look. I walk up to the glass and try to fix my makeup. I’m not sure why, except that it gives me something to do. Having a task to focus on makes me feel a little more in control.

I take a deep breath and look at myself. It’s then I notice something odd. The room’s dim light reflects off the mirror in a strange way. It’s a two-way mirror. Of course. It’s the same as the one in Tony’s office overlooking the brothel’s main room.

I lean in close to the glass and squint. I can’t make out anything. If someone’s inside watching me, I can’t see them. But they can see me. I jump back from the mirror. The thought that someone has been watching me this whole time sends a chill up my spine. I definitely wasn’t going to undress in this room with some creep watching me. If they wanted me to put on lingerie they were going to have to hold me down and dress me themselves. From what I’ve seen of Tony’s employees, I don’t think they’d have a problem with forcing me to dress. Maybe it was better to cooperate. There were no good choices, but dressing myself was probably better than being manhandled.

I quickly changed my mind. If the only way to escape was to play along for a while, then that’s what I was going to do. This was about survival now.

I pull the sheets off the bed and try to throw them over the mirror. There’s nothing to hang them on so they fall limply. I take a deep breath. It’s best to just get it over with. I pull off my clothes as quickly as possible then put on the negligee. Fashioning a tunic out of the sheets, I wrap it around me.

Almost immediately the door opens. An older woman enters. Her hair is pulled up tightly in a severe bun. She wears cat-eye makeup that make her dark eyes pop. Her mouth twists into a grin as she surveys the strange outfit I’ve made out of the bed sheets.

“I suppose that will have to do,” she says. “It took you long enough, but I figured you’d pass the test eventually.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been watching.” She nods towards the two-way mirror. “Your instructions were to dress, then wait. Most girl act defiantly. They don’t want to follow the rules. They get punished.”

I swallow hard. The woman’s smile broadens. She can sense my fear; it gives her pleasure. She folds her hands in front of her and tilts her head to the side. She addresses me politely and professionally, as if we’re in a business meeting. In fact, she’s dressed like a businesswoman; she wears a black pencil skirt, stiletto heels and a flowing black blouse. It’s not the way I’d expect someone who works in a brothel to dress. Though I sensed this woman wasn’t an escort. She had a matronly vibe. She must be responsible for running things.

“The test,” she continues, “was to see how long it would take you to wise up and dress yourself. You fell in line faster than most girls do. You can learn a lot about a girl by watching her adapt to her surroundings. You’re smart; I can tell. You’ll do well here.”

She takes a step closer.

“However, there is one little problem.”

She walks over to me slowly. I take a step back. The woman frowns as if she’s disappointed by me. She reaches out and grabs the knot of bed sheets. She pulls hard and fast. My tunic falls around my feet. I’m standing before her in the black see-through negligee and nothing else.

She inspects me closely. Her gaze doesn’t feel sexual, more like a mechanic examining a problem.

“You forgot the stockings,” she says.

She runs a finger down my side and over the curve of my hip. I jump. A new strange smile spreads across her face.

“You’ve never been touched like this before, have you?”

I don’t respond. I’m not going to discuss my virginity with this woman.

“Unusual in a girl your age.”

I straighten my back and try to act like her cold gaze and wandering hands don’t bother me.

“They’re going to like you,” she says with a small laugh.

“They?”

“The clients. Tony wants to put you to work right away. Though I suspect when he learns you’re a virgin he’ll want to break you in himself.”

She frowns with distaste. For a moment, I think she pities me. Then she adds: “It’s a shame. I could make a pretty penny selling the virginity of a girl like you.”

I take a step back. The woman laughs.

“Don’t act so timid. I know you’re much stronger than that.”

I’m not sure she’s right, but I’m going to have to find strength if I’m going to survive this.

“Come,” she says, beckoning me to follow her with a wave of her hand. “It’s time Tony gets a look at you.”

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