Silver and Chrome: A Bad Boy MC Romance (56 page)

Another late night and
Amber couldn't wait to get home and crawl into bed. She'd had a long night last
night, for some reason images of the fight had kept flashing through her mind.
She wasn't one for brutality, but there was just something about it that she
couldn't forget. The one residual image of the tall winner staring at her as
she turned away was what she remembered most. His deep eyes burned into her
mind. She wondered what color they were, it had been impossible to tell in the
darkness last night. In her dreams, they were golden.

Rain was pouring from the
sky tonight, and she hadn't even thought to bring an umbrella. The short walk
to her apartment left her drenched, and it wasn't until she was a few feet from
the front door that she began to hear the familiar shouting filling her ears
from the alleyway again. Her heart started to pound. Amber had assumed it would
be a onetime thing, she never imagined they would be back again tonight,
especially not in this weather. Despite being exhausted and really wanting to
get to bed, she had to look. What if
 
he
 
was there again? Maybe if she saw him
again, she could free the image from her mind and get some sleep.

The setup seemed similar
with the car in the alleyway lighting the fight up with its headlights and a
crowd of people circling the fighters. If anything, there were even more people
here tonight and each one seemed to be cheering and yelling even louder than
the other. It was amazing the cops hadn't shown up yet. In any other
neighborhood
they would have. In this
one, they were probably too busy with more serious issues. Besides, the rain
seemed to be drowning out the sound from spreading too far from the source.

Not content with looking
over shoulders, Amber pushed her way to the front this time. These people were
on her property, sort of, so she felt justified even though she caught a couple
of dirty looks as she pushed her way through.

In the middle of the
crowd, two fighters were facing each other. Their shirtless bodies were already
slick with sweat and mud, obviously both men had already fallen to the ground -
whether by slipping in the rain or by being thrown down by their opponent, she
had no idea.

It took her a moment to
recognize which of the fighters was the man from last night because of the mud.
Both men were similar in size, although the new one seemed heavier, more
muscular.

As she watched, the one
from last night threw a swinging punch at the other man, who dodged it, only to
follow it up with a kick to the thigh that made the thicker man wince and step
back. Amber clapped and let out an involuntary squeal.
 
What the hell am I doing
, she
wondered immediately. Why was she so invested in this stranger? Why should she
care if he wins or loses? The only thing she should really care about was how
soon it would be over, so she could head on up to bed. But her eyes betrayed
her and she kept them focused on the tall man from last night.

The blond hair on his
head seemed darker tonight, soaked through with rain, and his face had a stain
across it that she had assumed was mud, although now that she thought about it,
could just as easily be blood. How much of the fight had she had already
missed?

"Who are these
guys," she asked the man next to her. He was a thin man with glasses that
seemed too fogged up in the warm rain to really even see anything, but she
hoped he had more of an idea of what was going on than she did.

"UFC," the man
said simply.

"Wait, what? The one
that I see on TV all the time?" she asked. There was no way these guys
were real UFC fighters, were they?

The man smiled at her.
"Nah. This one stands for Underground Fight Club. These guys just wish
they were in the real thing."

"Oh," she said.
That made more sense.

The crowd let out a quick
sound as the bigger man threw out a quick jab that caught the blond in the
nose, snapping his head back. Amber sucked in a hiss and put her hand to her
mouth.

"You have money on
Joel? Might be a good bet, I'm taking the same gamble," the man next to
her said. Joel. That was his name.

"Why?"

"He's somewhat new,
but he's hungry. Haven't seen him lose a fight yet. He is a bit over-matched
this time, though. Brutus is a lot more experienced."

"Why is he fighting
him then?" All of sudden she felt simultaneously concerned and silly that
she cared about a man she had never met.

"He was a last
minute sub, although I doubt he knows that. Randy, the organizer, tells me this
kid is pretty naive."

Another roar from the
crowd and Amber's gaze snapped back to the action just in time to see Brutus
had somehow gotten behind Joel with his arms around the smaller man's neck.
Joel had one hand in between his neck and the other man's forearm, keeping him
from locking the choke in completely. The two of them struggled for at least a
minute and Amber was sure it was the end for Joel. All of a sudden he
manoeuvred himself in such a way as to expose the other man's torso and he was
able to deliver a swift elbow to the solar plexus.

Brutus stepped back and
his grip loosened enough for Joel to wrench his way out, his job easier as they
were both slick from the rain and mud. He pushed the big man away as both
fighters paused to catch their breath, eyeing each other like wild animals.

"Whew, thought he
was done for there," the man observed.

"How much did you
bet?"

"I have $100 on
him," the man answered.

"So everyone here
just comes to watch the fight and place bets on who wins?"

"Of course," he
replied, as if it was the most logical thing in the world.

"Are there rules to
this... spectacle?"

"No weapons, bare
hands only. Other than that, no." The man pulled his glasses off and wiped
them on his shirt, as if just now noticing how wet they were. They were already
splattered with fresh drops by the time he returned them to his face.

The men in the middle
were circling each other again, each one looking for a weakness in the other.
Amber's breath seemed caught in her throat as she watched, each nerve on edge
as she waited nervously for the action to continue.

His opponent tonight was
strong, fast and wasn't falling for a lot of the tricks he'd been able to pull
on fighters in the past. Joel could feel his heart thumping in his chest and if
it wasn't for the pounding rain coming down and the roar of the crowd around
him, he was sure he'd have been able to hear it as well. It had been a long
time since he felt this emotion. Fear.

"Get out, get the
fuck out!"

"Where the hell am I
supposed to go?"

"You think I care,
boy? I'm done letting you leech from me. For 18 years I've paid for everything,
wiped your ass, let you eat my food. I'm done. I've been dreaming of this
day."

"Fine, you fucking
prick. Let me just get some stuff and you'll never hear from me again."

Joel's father laughed,
but there was no joy in it. "Everything in this house is mine, boy. I paid
for all of it. You're lucky I let you keep the clothes on your back."

"Are you fucking
kidding me? Mom! Mom?"

"Leave your mother
out of this, she's with me on this. We've both been waiting for this day. Get
out before I fucking go and call the cops on you for trespassing."

A year ago, his threat
would have been to kick his ass, but as Joel matured his father had begun to
slowly realize that was no longer possible. The last time the two of them
fought, his father had been the one that had ended up needing a doctor. No
doubt that was part of why he'd been trying to get rid of him. But Joel's
mother would have no one to protect her if he left. Why wasn't she sticking up
for him.

"Mom?"

"I told you to get
the fuck out already."

"Not until I talk to
Mom," Joel said. He stood up to his full six feet two inches and pushed
his chest against his father. He looked down at the older man, daring him to
make a move.

"Fine," his dad
said, taking a step back. "Linda, come out and say goodbye to Joel. He's
finally getting the hell out of our house and leaving us in peace."

Joel's mother finally
appeared in the hallway leading back to her bedroom where she'd been most of
the day. A lot of times she didn't even make it out at all anymore. She was
wearing a housecoat and her eyes had circles under them. From where she stood,
Joel couldn't tell if they were from lack of sleep or a fist.

"Mom, I-"

"It's time you left,
Joel," she said simply. She seemed to be staring at him, but when he moved
slightly her eyes didn't follow. She was staring past him.

"He won't even let
me take any of my stuff..." he said weakly. A pain hit him in the chest
and he felt an overwhelming urge to start sobbing. He hadn't done that in
years. Damn if he'd let his father see it, though.

"You heard your
father," she said. "We paid for that stuff. Just get out."

"Who will protect
you?"

"Fuck you, you
little shit," his father said, advancing on him again but Joel pushed him
out of the way and took another step towards his mother. To his horror, she
took a step back, maintaining her distance.

"I got along fine
before you were born," she said. "I didn't ask for you to protect
me."

"That's right,"
his father sneered. "You think you've made a difference in this life, boy?
You haven't and you never will. I wish we'd never even had you. What a fucking
mistake that was. God damn the number of times I think about if I had only just
fucking jerked off into a tissue one more time you'd have been flushed down the
toilet."

Joel let out a scream and
swung his fist, catching his father in the nose and sending him reeling back.
His mother yelled and rushed forward. "Get out!" she screamed.
"Just go!"

Staggering back, the
young man turned and yanked open the door to his house for the last time. The
night was cold and rain was coming down in sheets. His light red hoodie
wouldn't protect him at all, and he had no idea where to go. His heart was
pounding in his chest as he ran down the pathway leading away from his house,
already drenched. What was he going to do now?

The rain pounded into
Joel but his mind was somewhere else, and he didn't even notice Brutus charging
at him again until it was too late. He spun to get out of the way, but the big man
caught him in one of his beefy arms and pulled him along, slamming him roughly
into the brick wall of the building behind him. His head snapped back and he
heard and felt it crack against the stone. Immediate warmth on his neck told
him it was bleeding badly.

He blinked as the air
around him grew darker and it was only instinct that made him bring up his
hands to protect his face an instant before he felt Brutus' fists crash into
them. He could hear yelling and screaming, but all he could think about was
that he hoped that it wasn't coming from him.

It's the crowd. People
are watching. They're paying to watch you fight. Watch you win. Don't get paid
to lose.

He shook his head to
clear it even as blows continued to rain down on him. He realized suddenly he
was on his knees, so he caught one of the arms of his opponent the next time he
was hit and used it to yank himself back up to his feet, while at the same time
pulling the big man off balance in surprise.

Joel stood up and threw a
punch in the area where he thought Brutus stood, but still not seeing straight,
it just went wildly past the other man and connected with nothing. The crowd
around him cheered again but he had no idea what for.

All of a sudden he felt a
big thick forearm wrap around his neck and slip against the wetness on his face
to settle under his chin.
 
Fuck.