Silver and Chrome: A Bad Boy MC Romance (57 page)

Amber watched in horror
as Brutus held tightly around Joel's neck as the blond struggled briefly, and
then went limp. The crowd was going crazy, and the man standing next to her was
cursing wildly.

Brutus held on for a few
more moments and then let go. She watched with wide eyes as Joel slipped out
from his grasp and crumpled lifelessly down onto the pavement below. The winner
raised his arms and let out a howl, almost like a wolf, and then walked into
the crowd surrounding the fighters. Everyone was patting him on the back.

"Well, that's that
then, time to finally get out of this rain. That's the last time I bet on the
underdog," the man next to her said.

"What now," she
asked. "Are they going to make sure that he's okay?"

"Who knows, who
cares," the man said, turning around and starting to walk out of the alley
along with many of the other spectators. "He's a loser now, no one
remembers the losers."

Amber looked back at the
body of Joel, still lying on the pavement. She could see that he was breathing,
though, but still covered in some of the mud that the rain hadn't yet washed
away. She was soaking wet as well, but barely aware of it.

No one was paying any
attention to the fallen fighter, including the big black man she had seen him
speaking to last night. He was too busy with his arm around Brutus, laughing
and talking as if the two had just come home from watching their team win a
football game.

She quickly scurried over
to the fallen man and bent down, hesitantly reaching out and touching his
shoulder. As she did, the lights from the car in the alley turned off and she
was plunged into a heavier darkness. Joel didn't move, so she poked his soggy
arm a bit harder. "Joel? Are you okay?"

Finally he started to
stir. He cracked an eye open, and then another. He seemed confused and then
shook his head a bit as he pulled his arms down and back underneath himself to
prop up on his elbows. "What the hell..."

"You were choked
unconscious," she said.

He stared dully at her
for a moment, letting the words sink in until they found meaning in his addled
brain. "Shit. I lost?"

She just nodded. Typical
man to think about whether he won or not as he lay injured on the ground.

"Who are you?"

"No one," she
said. "I mean, I was just watching... my name is Amber. Amber
Sinclair."

"What the fuck do
you want, Amber Sinclair," he said. He was struggling to sit up now but
just as he did he swayed and put out a hand to brace himself on the ground so
that he didn't fall back down. Amber instinctively reached out and grabbed him
under the arm to help. He glared down at her hand.

"I'm just trying to
help," she said. "You seemed to need it. No one else was going
to." She looked around and noticed that they were one of the last two in
the alleyway; almost everyone else had left in a hurry to get out of the rain.

"I can do just fine
on my own," he said, his voice hard. He pulled his arm away from her.

"Wow, okay. Suit
yourself," she said.
 
That's
what you get for being nice in this city. Mind your business
. Her mother's
voice was yapping in her ear again. She hated when it did that, especially when
it was right.

She stepped back to give
Joel some room. He was rude, but not really surprising given what he did with
his spare time. How many fighters did she think were gentlemen, anyway?

He pushed himself to his
feet and then swayed again. This time he didn't have the ground to reach out
for and his arms swung wildly. Amber again instinctively reached out to help
him, something she had gotten used to doing around closing time at her bar
every weekend. This time Joel's hands clamped down on her arm as well as he
accepted her help.

"I think you need a
doctor," she said.

"Nothing's
broken," he replied.

"You hit your head
pretty hard. I think it's still bleeding." From the angle he was standing,
she could see a trail of darkness moving down his back. She had thought it was
mud at first, given the lack of light, but now she wasn't so sure.

"It'll heal."

"You really ought to
get that looked at."

"I'm not paying some
doctor to tell me to man up and take an Advil."

"What if you need
stitches?"

"Stitches are just
to make a scar look pretty. It's at the back of my head under my hair. What the
fuck do I care what it looks like."

"Oh," she said.
She was still holding his arm and by the way he was grasping onto her, he still
felt like he needed it.

"You've never had
stitches, have you?" he asked.

"No."

"Well aren't you
living a charmed life," he said.

"Not everyone
chooses to beat the shit out of people in alleyways," she threw back.

Joel opened his mouth to
reply but then shut it. He turned and looked away as the rain pelted down
against his body. Amber was getting cold.

"Look," she
said. "I get it, you don't want to go to the doctor. But how about I at
least take a look at it? I live right here. You can come up and dry off.  I can
put some peroxide on the cut at least."

"Why?" he
hadn't turned back to face her, he was still looking out into the night and the
rain.

"Because you should
at least get it cleaned and stop the bleeding."

"No, I mean why do
you want to help me? What's in it for you? I haven't got any money to give you.
Losers don't get paid."

"I'm not looking for
money, I just want to help. Why is that so strange?"

"Nobody just wants
to help. Everyone wants something," he replied. He finally turned to face
her and his eyes were hard as he glared at her.

"You know what? Fuck
you. I'm tired of this rain. If you want me to help clean that up, you can
come. Otherwise, have a nice life." Amber turned before he could say
another word and stomped off and out of the alleyway.

He watched the girl,
Amber, turn towards the door to her building with exaggerated footsteps, each
one splashing the pavement as it stomped away. He didn't believe her for a
moment that she wasn't after something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on
what just yet. He clearly had nothing on him, but maybe she thought he would come
back and repay her another time after being overcome with gratitude. Fat chance
on that one. He could make his way back to the YMCA and his locker where he
stored all of his stuff before a fight, and then find a place to sleep for the
night. His head would be better in the morning.

He took one step, though,
and pain shot through the back of his head making it spin again. He wasn't
going to make it too far just yet.
 
Damn
it
.

"Wait!" he
called out. He wasn't sure if she heard him as she had already turned the
corner and was out of sight. Could be he was too late. He walked towards the
wall and put a hand on it to steady himself, following it until he turned the
corner himself. Amber was standing at the door of her building, under an
awning, and holding it open as she looked at him expectantly.

When he reached the door,
he just nodded to her. "My name's Joel," he said.

"I know." Amber
turned and walked through without another word, so he followed quietly behind
her, making sure to keep a hand on each door or wall that they passed to keep
the dizziness away until they got into the elevator. He leaned back against the
wall of it as it started to shake and ascend.

"Don't bleed all
over that," she said, looking at him critically now.

He moved forward to keep his
pants and back from touching anything, but kept one hand on the wall for
support.

Now that they were inside
and in the light, he was able to see her clearly. Her hair was a wet mess,
plastered down against her pale skin as drops of water rolled down her smooth
cheeks. Her lips were puffy and full, and she had green eyes that sparkled even
as she glared at him. She was beautiful, even soaking wet. He wondered again
what the hell she was doing helping him.

"Where's your shirt,
anyway?"

He shrugged. "In the
alleyway somewhere. Probably ruined from the mud and rain at this point."

"I'm not sure what I
have that would fit you," she said.

"Don't worry about
it."

"Stop being an
ass," she snapped. "You're injured and bleeding and I don't need a
half-naked man walking around my apartment." The elevator stopped as she
spoke. Seventh floor.

As soon as the doors
parted she stepped through and he followed as she walked down the hall to 706,
fumbling with her keys for a moment and pausing before putting them in. He
wondered if she was having second thoughts about helping after all.

"You're not a
lunatic, are you?" she said, turning to him. "I mean, beyond
willingly fighting other men in alleyways. Fuck. You are a lunatic. I don't
even know your last name. What the hell am I doing?"

"You want me to
leave, I'll leave," he said. He swayed a bit and then reached out to
ground himself by touching the wall next to her door.

Amber looked at him,
their eyes meeting for what felt like longer than was appropriate until she
finally shrugged and gave a sort of half smile. She turned back to the door and
put her key in, opening it. "Well, fuck it. You're here now anyway, might
as well come in. You're in no shape to attack anyone now anyway, even me."

The first thing she
needed to do was make sure Joel didn't ruin any of her furniture by bleeding
all over it, so she directed him immediately to her little bathroom, the only
one in her small apartment.

"Don't mind the
mess," she said. "I wasn't really expecting anyone."

Joel just grunted, his
eyes looking around and taking everything in as if he'd never seen the inside
of a girl's apartment before. His eyes landed on a bra she had drying over her
shower rod so she grabbed it and put it behind her back. "Let me get some
fresh towels, I'll be right back."

She hurried into her
bedroom and shoved the bra and some other clothes she had scattered around
under her bed. She shouldn't care what this man thought, and he wasn't likely
to come in here anyway, but she still felt self-conscious about the mess. Her
mother's voice in her head was about to have a conniption.

She found some old towels
in her closet that she didn't mind ruining and brought them back to the
bathroom. At the door, she stood for a moment and watched the stranger she had
just let into her house. Joel was studying a picture of the Eiffel tower that
she had on her wall, one of the few souvenirs she had brought back from her
trip to Paris the year before she had planned to start college.

He was tall. Over six
feet for sure, which made him at least six inches taller than she was but it
seemed like he was more than that. The muscles in his back were defined, even
through the mud and blood, and the blond hair on his head could be any other
color and she'd never know, given how dirty it was. But as he turned, his eyes
flickered over to see her watching and they met her own for a moment before she
moved in, brandishing the towels in front of her. Blue. She was finally able to
see his eyes in the light, and they were deep and blue.

"Here," she
said, "turn around and let me take a look."

Joel looked
skeptically
at her again and she
rolled her eyes. Finally he turned, slowly, and presented his back to her
again. She turned on the tap and put some hot water on one of the towels and
then used it to wipe away some of the blood and dirt from his head and hair. He
flinched slightly as she touched the wound, but didn't object.

"It doesn't look too
good," she said after cleaning it enough to get a good look. The cut was
deep and ran from the base of his skull up about three inches. There was a bump
forming around it as well. She used the other end of the towel to start wiping
away some of the rest of the dirt that covered his back.

"It's fine, I just
need to rest for a couple of days. I've had worse."

"I believe it,"
she said softly. As the dirt came away from his back, she noticed various scars
marking his upper body. There had to be at least five or six long ones and then
various other smaller ones.

Joel turned, putting a
hand on the towel that Amber held. The edge of his fingers grazed against hers.

"I can do the
rest."

"Sure," she
said. She held the towel a moment longer and then let it go. "Let me get
some peroxide though. You don't want an infection. Otherwise you
 
will
 
have to go to the hospital." She
opened up the medicine cabinet and pulled out a big bottle as Joel started to
wipe some of the grime from his face.

He looked like he hadn't
shaved in a few days, his stubble getting to a length where he'd soon have to
make a decision as to whether to clear it off or just grow a beard. Even still,
the hair didn't hide the strong jaw line that made up his face, or his full and
positively chewable looking lips. Amber shook her head to clear that last thought.
 
Where the hell did that come from?

"Turn around,"
she said. This time he complied immediately, still using the now dirty towel to
clear off his chest. His upper body, unlike his face, was hairless but she
couldn't tell if that was natural or whether he shaved it. It was covered in
scars as well, but they took a back seat to the other lines that made up his
midsection. Joel was very well defined; his abs looked like something out of a
fitness magazine. Amber could only tear away her gaze once he had turned away
from her, hiding them from view.

She took one of the clean
towels and told him to lean forward over the sink. As he did, she poured the
liquid onto the cut directly. He inhaled sharply. "Sorry, should have
mentioned that this would sting a bit. Figured you'd be used to it."

"I am. It's
fine."

The excess dripped off of
him and she dabbed the cut with the towel. Fresh blood was still coming off it,
so she pressed the towel firmly against his head to apply pressure. "I
think you need to stop this bleeding," she said. "Hold this."

Joel reached up and
around to grab the towel, placing his strong hand on top of hers before she
moved it so that he could take its place. His fingers were calloused and rough,
from years of working with his hands. Or fighting.

Amber stood back as she
watched Joel leaning over her sink, holding the towel against his head and
obscuring his view. While she had the chance, she took another long look at his
hard body. Now that it was mostly clear of grime and he couldn't see her, she
was able to admire the lines of his back and the sides of his stomach. He
really took care of himself. She couldn't see an ounce of fat on him. His
biceps were well formed and large, without being obscenely so. And his filthy
pants were slightly too big, leaving them to hang low over his hips and
exposing just the swell of his tight looking ass. It had been far too long
since Amber had been with a man. And she'd never been with one that had a body
like this. Too bad this one was so rude.

Joel stood up, still
holding the towel against his head.

"You should probably
keep holding that for a while. You might as well come and sit down."