Silver and Chrome: A Bad Boy MC Romance (67 page)

"What the hell are
you doing here this early, girl?"

"Before you start on
me, I brought you a Frappuccino, so choose your words carefully."

Simon's eyebrows melted
into his hairline and a smile spread across his face as he reached to snatch
the drink from Amber's hands. "I was just going to say what a pleasure it
is to see you in here so long before your shift," he said slowly.

Amber laughed.
"You're a terrible liar."

"You caught me off
guard. Try giving me a morning to come up with a reason for why I'm late for
work instead of admitting to just being hung over, then we'll talk. If you can
still accuse me of that, I'll get to see how good a liar
 
you
 
are." Simon sniffed and took a
sip of his drink, trying to look hurt but his eyes betrayed his cheerfulness.
She didn't know if she had ever seen him in a bad mood, or even a very serious
one for that matter, which was why she had come in early. Simon could always
cheer her up when she was bummed about a guy. He had more experience with them
than she had, after all.

"Seriously
though," he said after putting his cup down. "It's not even one
o'clock. You don't start for another four hours."

"I was tired of
staring at the walls and being pissed off," she said, plopping her bag
down against the bar and sliding onto a stool. It was rare she got to see the
bar from this perspective.

"Oh, oh. What did
fight club do now?"

Amber stuck her tongue
out at Simon. She hated when he called Joel that. "Nothing. I don't know.
We got in a fight and he stormed out, I don't even know when or if he'll be
home tonight. "

"About what?"

"Money, I think.
Honestly, I don't even know for sure. One minute I'm asking him to move in with
me and the next minute he's basically accusing me of being a gold digger. I
don't get him at all. He's so touchy, especially about money."

"Probably because he
never has any. Didn't you find him sleeping on a park bench or something?

"No, stop it,"
she said, swatting at his arm. Simon just smiled and spun out of reach, taking
another sip of his frap.

"Listen, I'm just
saying they don't get much poorer than him. Wouldn't it be nice to date someone
with money for a change? Someone who can take care of you instead of needing
you to mother him?"

"I don't care about
money," she said. Simon did, and he couldn't understand when other people
didn't. He once told her he would never date a man who didn't own a BMW or
Jaguar. She wasn't sure if he was kidding or not, it wasn't always easy to tell
with him.

"Well, you might
not, but how do you know what he really wants. Maybe his whole money issue
thing is some sort of over compensation defense type thing because in reality,
he's after your money."

"What money, Doctor
Freud?"

"Well, your
potential money."

"I work at a bar, I
don't think there's a lot of danger of me attracting any Bernie Madoff type
suitors."

"Don't sell yourself
short, girl. You're still young. This isn't your last stop."

"Whatever. Anyway,
he's not like that."

"How do you
know," Simon said, walking back over to her and leaning against the bar. "How
well do you really know this guy, anyway? You've known him for what, like a
week?"

"Two. But so what?
He's private, that's all."

"People who are
'private' usually have something to hide."

Amber sighed.
"Joel's not like that."
 
Is
he?
 
He was extremely private,
and never wanted to talk about his past at all. She got the feeling she wasn't
even allowed to ask about it. Could he be hiding some deep dark secret? Even if
he was, she didn't think it had anything to do with money. But there were worse
secrets he could be keeping.

"Hey, you know who
else was private and liked to keep to himself? Jeffrey Dahmer. That is, until
he was hungry."

"Oh my god, Simon.
Would you stop?"

"Listen, I'm just
saying, there could be lots of reasons he doesn't want to talk about his past
or his family. Like maybe he killed them all and is on the run, hiding out in
shelters and fighting in back alleys to keep the voices from his head."

Amber put her hands over
her ears. "STOP!"

Simon laughed and Amber
reached over and grabbed the fountain gun, turning it on him and spraying him
with water as he ran to the back of the bar. "Okay, okay, I'll stop.
Truce!"

She put the gun back down
and glared at her friend. "I came here so that you'd make me feel better,
not so that you'd add to the crazy thoughts in my head."

He walked slowly back,
shaking his shirt to peel the wet fabric from his body. "Okay, fine. What
 
do
 
you know about him?"

"Not very much. His
name and... actually, I guess just his name."

Simon sighed and put a damp
hand on the back of Amber's shirt. "You're lucky you have me in your life,
that's all I have to say."

"Why?"

"This is the
internet age. The age of information. You think I go out with a guy even once
without cyber stalking his ass? If for no other reason than to check out his
net worth and whether he's got a secret wife somewhere that he's closeted from?
Not that that last part is a deal breaker, by the way."

Of course not
. "So, you think you
could find something out about him?"

"Girl, if I can't I'll
be a lot more disappointed in myself than you'll be. Come on, there's a
computer in the back office we can use." Simon started to walk away as he
kept talking, not even waiting to see if Amber was following.

"Trust me, I haven't
sucked a dick that didn't have six figures behind it since I left high school.
If I can't find out something about fight club's past, then it's because he
comes from Mars and doesn't have one. "

"Gross," she
said, slipping off her stool and following her friend.
 
It can't hurt to just take a quick
look. Just to make sure he isn't a lunatic.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Joel

The training began
normally when Joel returned to the main gym.  He rejoined the group of fighters
that Shawn had introduced him to and they all ran through some simple warm
ups.  From sprints and rolls, to push-ups and burpees.  The actual warm up
lasted for over thirty minutes and got progressively harder as time wore on. 
For the most part, Blake was leading the group in terms of what they did next,
standing in front of them so that they could follow along with what he was
doing.  By the time they took a break, Joel was covered in a heavy layer of
sweat.  The other guys didn't seem quite as winded.

He
was taking a sip from his water bottle, letting his heart rate come down a bit,
when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder.  It was Chris Leeman.  "Feel the
burn yet?" he asked with a smile.  He was missing a tooth along his bottom
row. 

Joel
nodded.  "Good work out.  It always like that?" 

Chris
shrugged as his hand slipped off Joel's shoulder and he grabbed his own water. 
"I think Blake was putting on a bit of a show for you today."

Joel
grunted.  It didn't surprise him, given the way Blake had glared at him
earlier.  He wasn't sure what that guy's problem was, but he wasn't going to
let him get under his skin.  He glanced over his shoulder to see whether the
other fighter was nearby, but he was only bending over at one of the benches
and grabbing his own drink, facing away from the two of them.  When he stood up,
Joel did a double take.

"What
the fuck is that?"

"What?"
Chris asked.  He followed Joel's gaze and then laughed.  "I think it's for
intimidation, but whenever I see it, all I can think about is that he's thick
headed, or a blockhead."  Chris laughed again but then quickly added
"But don't tell him I said that.  I'll deny the shit out of it."

They
were looking at a tattoo stenciled onto the back of Blake's head.  It was very
detailed, and was made to look as if a circular bit of his skull had broken off
and underneath was a red brick wall. 

Joel
smiled at Chris's comment as he shook his own head.  "I guess some people
just know that MMA is going to be their life forever."

"What
do you mean?"

"I'm
just saying, the way he's tattooed his whole body, he's not going to be
applying for any office jobs.  He's pretty much committed himself to his
craft."

Chris
smiled broadly, slapping Joel on the back again and then putting his water
down.  "Yep, I think you're right about that.  Some people are just born to
be bad-asses.  But hey, isn't that why we're here, too?  Anyway, come on, let's
get back."

Joel
put his own water down and turned to follow the fighter back to where the other
three guys were starting to assemble again. 
Am I any better than Blake?  No
tattoos, but I have no future other than fighting either.
  Maybe the only
difference between the two men was that Blake accepted his fate,  embracing who
he was while Joel always had the lingering doubt that he barely even knew
himself.

The
men started to lightly spar after donning their protective gear, pairing up
while taking turns sitting one of them out to rest and act as ref when needed. 
Joel and Chris faced off, circling while they gauged each other's style.  When
they came together, they were evenly matched, with no man seeming to gain any
advantage before time was called for a switch.

Joel 
next fought with Kingston.  The big man nodded to him when they started,
reaching his long arm out to touch knuckles lightly before leaping forward
immediately and catching Joel on the side of the head with a punch.  It knocked
his head back, but he stayed on his feet, most of the sting from the hit being
absorbed by his padded helmet.

Kingston
was more aggressive than Chris, and Joel was forced to take a more defensive
stance.  He was able to parry the rest of the black man's attacks, but he
hardly had time to throw anything of his own.  He was both surprised and
impressed with how quick his opponent could move, relative to his size.  By the
time their pair up was over, Joel was winded and happy to hear that it was his
turn to sit out.

He
sat on the side waiting for his heart rate to settle as he watched the other
four men continue to spar.  He was still tired from his lack of sleep the night
before, and out of shape from the previous two weeks of what almost amounted to
bed rest, his only exercise being the frequent naked wrestling matches that
Amber usually initiated.  He smiled as he thought about this morning and how
she had greeted him in the shower.

How
did I manage to even fuck that one up?
  She didn't deserve his
outburst.  Obviously Amber wasn't after his money, and he knew she wasn't
making a subtle accusation that he needed to start paying rent.  Yet he wasn't
the kind of guy that needed her to point it out. 
What kind of man needs a
woman to put a roof over his head?  You're a pussy, and you always were.
 
His father's voice raged in his head as if he were standing right next to
him.   The old man was right, as infrequent as that was. 

He
needed to contribute, and the only way he could see to do that was to find
Randy and see if he could line up another underground match.  He may have lost
his last one, but he wouldn't be distracted this time.  He could forget that
one loss and return to his unbeaten status, building up a bankroll big enough
to at least contribute to the rent.  One or two fights a month should do it. 
No one would have to know.

"Joel,
you coming or what?"

He
shook his head to clear his thoughts. Blake was standing above him, glaring down. 
"You're with me," he said.

Leaping
to his feet with a surge of adrenaline that hid how tired he was, Joel followed
sour puss to the center of the mats, his eyes drawn to the unique tattoo.  What
had Chris called him?  Blockhead?  Maybe that fit better than sour puss.  Joel
was curious to find out just how thick his skull was.  When Blake stopped and
turned, Joel gave him a tight smile and nod but the other man just grimaced in
return.  "Show me why you get a free pass," he said, and then he
lunged forward.

Joel
put his arms out to stop Blake as he came forward, but the more experienced
fighter dropped his shoulder at the last moment, catching Joel in the stomach
and blasting the breath from his lungs as he flew backward.  He instinctively
grabbed onto the other man's back in order to keep from being knocked
completely off his feet, but Blake's arms wrapped around his waist and he felt
a leg swing around behind him.  The full weight of his opponent pushed against
him, tripping him and then landing hard on top of his body as they crashed into
the mats.  The back of his helmeted head bounced as it hit the ground, quickly
met by Blake's elbow from the top.

Raising
his arms to protect his head without thinking, Joel knew he was in trouble when
he felt Blake push his arm against his face and slip his own around the back of
Joel's head.  He'd foolishly put himself in a position where his opponent could
apply an arm triangle, and he had been too dazed and tired to foresee it, much
less defend against it.  As Blake squeezed, Joel had no choice but to tap out
before he lost consciousness, although he did wait until the edges of his
vision started to blacken before doing so. 

Blake
waited a fraction of a second longer than he needed to before he loosened his
grip.  He slid his arm out from under Joel and grunted.  "Fucking joke,
like I thought."