Silver and Chrome: A Bad Boy MC Romance (71 page)

Joel decided to walk to
the fight. The night was cool, and he had time to kill after not being able to
nap for very long. The shelter had been noisy tonight, and he had too much on
his mind to relax.

His father was dead. That
thought spun around his brain, confusing him with the range of emotions it
dislodged with each revolution. He was happy. Elated even, that he would never
have to see Darryl's twisted scowl again. But there was also a deep rooted
tension within him, bubbling beneath the surface. A dark rage whose source
eluded him.

When Amber had told him
about it, he hadn't been surprised, especially to know he'd been driving drunk.
Darryl had done that all the time, and it was more amazing that it had taken
this long for it to catch up with him. But the next thing that had gone through
his head was that his death was too quick. Too easy. For all the pain and
suffering he had inflicted on him and his mother, he would have preferred to
hear about how Darryl had suffered a bit first.

Growing up, Joel had
often fantasized about being the cause of that suffering. When he'd first
started taking secret martial art training at school, the original goal had
been to be able to defend himself and his mother. As time went on and he showed
an aptitude for it, he started to imagine really laying into his father. He'd
have dreams where he would pound the older man's face until it was barely
recognizable and then wake up, his heart pounding. Not out of terror or fear,
but excitement.

But he never acted on it.
His mother would always defend Darryl, and then when she didn't stop the man
from kicking Joel out, he realized that she probably still loved him in some
sick and twisted way. He'd grown up trying to protect her from that monster,
loving her and often placing himself in danger to protect her. When she sided
with her husband in sending Joel out on his own with absolutely nothing, it had
broken his heart and steeled his resolve that he was on his own in this world
and could never really trust anyone else. Eventually, he came to appreciate
that he owed his parents nothing, and he resolved to keep his relationships
with others just as simple. If you didn't owe anything to anyone, then they had
no power over you. He could leave whenever he wanted with nothing holding him
back.

When it comes time to stick
your neck out emotionally, you run away scared.

He let out a deep breath,
trying to release some of the tension he was feeling as he thought about those
words. Amber's interpretation of the way he lived his life was accurate. He had
no problem with physical pain, but he really was trying to shelter himself from
feeling anything emotionally. With physical pain you could figure out the cause
and heal it. You could often fight back. Emotional pain stayed with you.

Just get out!
 
He could still hear his mother's voice, as if she were right
there beside him.

Amber was right in
another way, too. He was living in the shadow of his past, unable to get on
with his life. She was offering him a lifeline, trying to pull him in from an
ocean of loneliness and he was throwing it back, telling her to let him drown.

Sounds of a crowd pulled
his attention back and he realized he'd already arrived at the fight. The
little parking lot behind the abandoned warehouse where they were fighting
tonight was packed, and he saw Randy smile as soon as he saw Joel pushing his
way through.

Randy introduced the
fighters to the crowd a few minutes later as Joel pulled off his shirt. His
opponent was a lean young black man who seemed like he couldn't be much older
than 20, if that. He looked fresh, his body untouched and undamaged. To Joel,
that meant that he was either very good or very new to this. Given his age, he
guessed the latter.

His name was Tyrell, and
according to Randy's introduction this was only his second fight but he had won
the first one very quickly. When Randy announced Joel, he made particular
mention of how he had lost his last fight, and hadn't fought in a couple of
weeks but was trying to make his comeback.

Randy then told everyone
that the fight would begin in 15 minutes and betting was now open. He walked
around, collecting wagers as one of his employees helped by recording each one
for later payouts.

Joel watched Tyrell. The
young man was bouncing around, full of nervous energy. Whenever he caught
Joel's eye, he would try to stare him down. Joel remembered acting similarly
when he was just getting started.

"Joel?"

He turned and saw a thin
bald man beckon him from the sidelines. He looked familiar but he couldn't
quite place him. He still had a few minutes before the fight so he walked over.

"Glad to see you're
healed up after the tournament at Golden Dragon," the man said. "I
was looking forward to your fight with Carlos, a lot of people were
disappointed that it didn't happen."

"No one more than
me," Joel said. He must have recognized this guy from the crowd that
night.

"You think you could
have taken him?"

"I think he was
lucky we didn't get to find out," Joel said. He still regretted not being
able to slam his fists into the big Hispanic's face a few times. Even if Joel
lost the match in the end, that would have at least left him satisfied.

The bald man just nodded,
his lips pursed as if imagining how the fight would have gone. "Well, good
luck tonight."

Joel thanked him and
returned to the center just as Randy was announcing that the match was about to
begin. He wasn't thrilled about being recognized, but he figured it was
unlikely anyone from Rock House would be here. Shawn spoke out against these
types of fights enough that most of the fighters would stay clear of them.
They'd have almost as much to lose by admitting they were here as Joel would.

The match started and
Tyrell rushed Joel immediately, his nervous energy propelling him like a ball
of fire to start the match. Joel sidestepped easily and swung his fist around
to crash into the black man's midsection. He felt the bones of his hand pound
against Tyrell's ribs with a satisfying thunk as adrenaline started to course
through him.

Tyrell winced and spun
around, throwing out a back hand as he spun that Joel easily blocked. He
countered by lowering his body and delivering yet another shot to the same
place. This time, Tyrell doubled over and stepped back. Joel let him, even
though he knew he could have seized on the opportunity to leap forward and
finish the match quickly. He was enjoying this too much, though. Both hits had
sent a thrill of bloodlust up through his body, and he was beginning to imagine
that Tyrell was really Darryl.

The other fighter
recovered and moved forward, much slower this time, watching his opponent and
keeping his fists near his face and his elbows by his ribs. The men circled,
and Tyrell threw a few jabs. Joel danced away from them, thinking about how
angry that made his father the first few times he had done the same to him.

Stop bouncing around like
a pansy, boy,
 
his father had said.
 
Come and fight me like a man
.
His father hadn't seen the irony of that statement, as he threw his fists at
the twelve-year-old.

Tyrell threw a wider
punch this time, taking a shot at connecting with Joel's chin. This time, Joel
stepped forward, letting the man's long arm swing around his head instead and
now that he was close enough, Joel slammed the top of his head forward into the
other man's nose. He heard a crunch just before he felt the spray of blood rain
down across his shoulder. Tyrell fell back with a cry, his hands reaching up to
grab his broken nose.

Joel wasted no more time.
He turned on his heel and delivered a crushing side kick into Tyrell's torso,
doubling the man over as he sank to his knees. His hands dropped to his stomach
now as a puddle of blood began to instantly form below his down turned head.

Joel stood over him,
waiting with his fist raised. As expected, Tyrell looked up to see what Joel
was planning next. As soon as his head lifted, Joel's fisted came crashing down
into it.

This is for you, Darryl.

The other man's limp body
fell over onto his side and the crowd around Joel erupted in cheers. He hadn't
even remembered they were there, he'd been so consumed with the hatred he had
been unleashing. Was this how his father felt whenever he'd had too much to
drink and wanted to flex his muscle against his family? The thought of that
made Joel feel sick.

Randy ran up to Joel,
raising one of his arms as the audience continued to hoot and holler at the
brutality of the matchup. "You've won a lot of fans tonight," Randy
yelled in his ear. "We need to schedule another fight as soon as possible
to ride this momentum."

Joel nodded dully as he
stared down at Tyrell's body. No one was making a move to see if he was okay,
but he could tell he was breathing at least. His nose was a mess, and blood was
still dripping down his cheek and onto the concrete below.

"Tonight was a big
score," Randy was continuing. "I knew you'd win, that's why I tried
to make the match sound like he was the
favorite
." He nodded at the
black man who was now starting to stir. "Moved a lot of bets his way,
which means more money for us. Close to $400 should be coming to you."

Joel nodded again. This
was a means to an end, but it couldn't keep going on forever. He'd do what he
had to do until he could figure something else out. For now, that money meant
something important, and he wasn't going to waste the opportunity to make a
change. It was time to stop drowning.

Amber woke the next
morning to a racing heart after hearing a sound coming from her living room.
She leapt out of her bed in only her nightshirt and reached under her bed for
the golf club she stored there.

Her door opened and she
yanked the metal bar out and lifted it in front of her, ready to slam it down
and run if needed.

"Whoa, easy there
Tigress Woods, it's just me." Joel stood in her doorway with his hands up.
He had a duffel bag slung over one muscular shoulder and was wearing a bright
red T-shirt.

Amber dropped her arm
down, the head of the club making a thud as it came to rest against the floor.
"Oh, Joel. I wasn't sure you'd be back." She wanted to run into his
arms, but she kept her voice cold as she struggled for control. She wasn't
lying when she told him she was getting tired of this back and forth shit. She
needed more stability in her life.

"I'm sorry," he
said. "You were right. About everything. I have been afraid. Of
this," he gestured to himself and then Amber. "Of committing. Of
exposing myself to getting hurt again by someone I care about."

"I can't keep doing
this," she said. Her heart was swelling in her chest, but she wasn't about
to do this again without some assurance that he wasn't going to continue to
leave every time they had an argument.

Joel stepped forward, the
bag on his shoulder slipping off as he grabbed the handle and bent slightly to
drop it to the ground. "I know," he said. "I've been thinking a
lot about what you said and what you did."

Amber opened her mouth to
protest, but she closed it again when Joel raised his hand and continued.

"I'm not blaming you
anymore," he said. "I get that I can't expect to have a real
relationship with someone if I'm not willing to let them in. I have nothing to
hide anymore, Amber. Not from you, anyway. I kept my past a secret because I
was ashamed of it. Not just of the way my parents treated me, but of whether I
was going to turn out like them.

"I've been thinking
lately about why I fight. I mean, I need to earn money and I don't have a lot
of skills, and I'm good at it... but I've been wondering if there's something
more? Like, maybe my father passed on some of his violence to me. Maybe it's in
my blood. And I think I've been afraid that if you knew where I'd come from, or
if you suspected that violence was more than just a job for me but was part of
my DNA, then you wouldn't want to be with me. And I couldn't blame you for
that."

"Oh, Joel," she
said, letting out a deep and shuddering breath that she'd been holding while he
spoke.

He shook his head again,
not finished. "I just want you to know, Amber, that even if it is in my
blood... even if there's something deep in my cells that drives me to keep
fighting... I will never, ever, lay a finger on you. I will never hurt you. I'd
kill myself before I'd do that. I won't become my father. I won't become a
monster. I swear it."

Amber blinked as the
image of Joel became distorted behind the tears that welled in her eyes.
"I know you won't," she said softly.

"So anyway,"
Joel said, clearing his throat, "if you're still open to my moving
in-"

Amber crossed the short
distance between them and grabbed Joel hard by the front of the shirt and
pulled him forward, her lips cutting him off in mid-sentence.

He responded immediately
by opening his mouth and taking control, his tongue pushing back at hers and
asserting dominance. He moved his hard body closer so that they were touching
and Amber could feel the heat coming off him in waves.

Joel's arms wrapped
around her body, completely enveloping her as his hands caressed her back,
massaging gently with his fingertips. His mouth slipped away from hers and
continued along her face, pressing gentle kisses along her cheek and down the
contours of her neck. Amber's breathing quickened and she put her own arms
around his waist, pulling him closer and feeling his arousal pressing through
his pants and against her belly button as she did.

"Joel," she
moaned as his hands dropped lower down her back and found the edge of her night
shirt, slipping underneath to grab her bare ass firmly. Lifting her up with his
strong hands, he pulled her to him and she wrapped her legs around his waist as
he spun and leaned forward. The two of them fell onto her bed with him on top,
still clothed, between her spread legs. His hands were on either side of her,
supporting his weight from pushing down on her completely.

As soon as they hit the
mattress, Joel's mouth moved back against hers, kissing her with a renewed
urgency. She responded, pulling him closer with her legs as his tongue probed
deep into her mouth. She wanted more of him inside of her, though. Still
kissing him, Amber slid her hands in between them and pulled violently on the
button of his pants until it was undone. She yanked the zipper down and then
hooked her thumbs into his waistband as she tried to work them down his hips
without breaking contact with his lips.

Joel dropped one of his
own hands down along her body and touched her calve, running along the smooth skin
with his rough and calloused hands. A shiver ran up Amber's spine and she
trembled as he moved it further up and onto her thigh.

His warm fingers
continued their ascent, slipping under the thin cloth of Amber's nightshirt and
past her belly until he had hold of one of her breasts, his thumb caressing her
sensitive nipple. She gasped as soon as he made contact and ground her hips
upward against the small amount of flesh she had been able to expose on him.

"Take them
off," she whispered, pulling her mouth from his momentarily and then
resuming where they had left off. No other explanation was necessary as Joel
withdrew his hand from her shirt and wiggled his pants down. She felt his legs
move as he used them to kick his clothes free until he was naked from the waist
down.

Amber glided her hand
down his hard body and wriggled it in between them as Joel shifted his weight
to his supporting hand and lifted his body a bit to let her through. She
grabbed him firmly, the hot and hard power that throbbed in her hand only
serving to further feed her desire. "I need... this..." she said,
squeezing him purposefully.

The fighter grunted in
agreement, and she pulled him toward her entrance. He brought his hand back up
and into her shirt, and just as she felt it grasp her breast again he thrust
forward, merging their bodies as he filled her. She took a deep breath, bending
her knees up along his abs to allow him to push even deeper.

His hips pressed hard
against hers as they both took a second to get used to each other's bodies
before he began to pull back. When he started to inch himself forward, Amber
urged him along with her ankles, pulling his ass toward her. She wasn't
interested in gentle and slow right now. She wanted hard and she wanted fast.

As if reading her mind,
Joel's hips began to rock back and forth between her legs, going from slow and
steady to a frenzied pounding within seconds. She closed her eyes, focusing on
the pleasure that grew within her depths and then gasping as he added to it by
biting the nape of her neck lightly as his index finger and thumb pinched her
nipple.

"Fuck, Joel, keep
going," she pleaded, moving the hand she had used to guide him up to her
own swollen nub and rubbing along in time with his pounding.

Joel began to grunt with
each thrust, and his speed increased, indicating that he was also very close to
an explosive finish. Amber bit her lip as her legs pulled him ever deeper each
time their bodies met. She felt him start to expand within her just as she
reached her own peak. With a shuddering moan, he released, filling her with a
hot fire that she could feel blasting deep inside of her. Her own body was
quivering now as well, and she could feel herself undulating and squeezing
against his hard flesh. She pulled him even closer, unwilling to let him pull
away until they had both stopped trembling.

When he finally did, he
rolled over to lie next to her, both of them wearing only their shirts,
although hers was hiked up over her breasts which she was grateful for since it
meant the heat of her body wouldn't be trapped around her.

"So, I also wanted
to ask you something else," he said, after he had stopped panting.

"Anything,"
Amber turned her head to him and smiled.

"The other day, when
we were fighting, you called me your boyfriend..."

Amber could feel her face
get hot as she giggled nervously. "Yeah, sorry. That was a Freudian slip
or something."

"No, I liked it. I
mean... it's kind of high school, but I like what it means. I don't want anyone
else, Amber. Just you."

She smiled at him and
rolled up onto her elbows, bending down and kissing him on the lips again. When
she pulled off, she lay her head down on his chest and closed her eyes, a big
smile spread across her face.

Maybe he wasn't such a
fool after all.