“Why?” He looks at me with wide eyes.
I inhale a breath, wondering myself why I’m getting in the middle of this. Maybe it’s because Pinky is so young and really needs someone to look out for him.
“Just, listen to me, yeah? Chase ain’t right in the head, he’s dangerous,” I continue.
“Alright,” he mutters. “You excited for the big fight Tate landed?” he changes the subject.
Wiping my forehead of the beaded sweat I say, “I’m not sure Tate knows what she’s getting herself into.”
“So… show her.” He shrugs.
“What do you mean?” I’m doing my best showing her what to expect inside the ring.
“Take her to a fight. There’s a MFC one in South Dakota tomorrow night.”
My eyes widen at the information. Biting my cheek I think about it. My thoughts scattering as excitement takes place at taking Tate to her very first fight. It would be a good idea to let her see firsthand what it’s like inside the octagon. Tickets won’t be cheap, but that is why I have Kaley. She’ll find the best, or possibly find them free.
“That’s a good idea. Thanks for looking out,” I praise, and give him a fist bump. I grab my phone off the side of the ring and text Kaley.
Hey, I need something from you. -C
Need me to give you another alibi? Get rid of a woman? -K
I frown. The way she puts it like that I sound like an asshole
.
No, I need two tickets to tomorrow night’s fight in South Dakota. -C
Three dots pop up, then stop, then start back up again.
Finally, actual work! And a public appearance. Is this a prank? It’s not funny. -K
My fingers freeze in reply. Shit, cameras will be everywhere.
Just get them. -C
Placing the phone back on the ring, I head toward the women’s locker room. It’s really more like a storage closet, but Tate hasn’t complained.
Stepping inside I find Tate wiping her sweaty chest with a towel. I could be a gentleman and turn away, but who said I was a gentleman to begin with?
“Hey,” I announce my presence.
She smiles, continuing to wipe herself down.
“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to come into a women’s locker room?” She peers under her thick lashes, and that sultry look goes right to my dick.
“Really? So if I threw you up against those lockers right now, you’d still want me to leave?” I bite at my lip, my eyebrow raised.
Her cheeks stain a cute pink, and it takes everything I have not to do just that.
Stepping up to her, I brush a hair behind her ear.
“Breathe,” I whisper, and her body sags with an exhale. Goddamn I love how much I affect her.
She turns, and opens her locker.
“Hold that ego of yours down. I was holding my breath because you smell.”
She turns with a smug smirk on her face, and tosses me some deodorant.
I laugh, and toss it back at her.
“I think you might need this more than me,” I wink.
She catches it and shrugs before applying it vigorously. This is what I love about her, she’s one of the guys. She’s not in here gossiping, or fussing over her hair. She’s being… her.
Grabbing her shoulders I start to massage them, and she instantly molds into my hands. Her neck rolling as she moans. Her skin is sticky, and the heat rolling off of her makes me want to devour every inch of her with my tongue.
“There’s this thing tomorrow night I want to take you to—”
“What kind of thing?” She glances over her shoulder.
“A surprise thing. I want to take you to it.”
Her shoulders tense, and she steps forward.
“You mean a date?”
My eyes widen, and my palms sweat with the question. When we were kids we went on two dates. One was a Tuesday night Taco night and we went with some friends. Kind of like a double date… it went horribly wrong. Everyone was snickering behind Tate’s back because she didn’t dress to their liking for date night. I still remember the way she looked as if it were yesterday. She was beautiful in her short jean shorts, dark blue tank top, and that yellow sports bra. She had dark bruises on her knees, and the way her faced glowed from the summer heat had me staring at her all night. She was natural, down to earth, and took my breath away.
The other time was prom night. She dressed up because her mother forced her to. She was gorgeous as hell in that black poofy dress, but man did she hate it. As soon as we got home she stepped out of it and kicked it into the bottom of her closet. Then I fucked her against the wall in nothing but those black heels.
Just thinking about it has my swelling cock pressing into her lower back.
“I mean—” I rub at my chin, thinking it over. I want her to see what she is getting herself into, but more importantly I want to see the excitement on her face when I surprise her. “I guess it’s a date.”
She sashays toward me, her teeth biting her bottom lip.
Fuck I want to bite that lip. Raising my hand I thumb her lip from her teeth.
“Go on a date with me, Tate,” I demand, rather than ask. When you ask a woman to go on a date with you, you’re giving her the option to say no. I’m not giving Tate that option.
Her lips purse, trying to hide the smile behind them. She wants to say yes, but she’s making me work for it.
Reaching out, I grab her by the shirt and pull her toward me.
Kissing her neck, her hands cup my face as I lick and suck the sweat from her skin.
My hands sliding along her hips possessively. My fingers catching on her pants, and I anxiously tug them down over the globes of her ass cheeks. My fingers dig into her ass rapaciously, as an excited growl rips through my chest.
Her mouth lazily parts, as she kisses the outline of my jaw softly.
“Say yes,” I breathe heavily. She stills, before turning in my hold.
“What kind of a date?” Her eyebrows furrow before releasing.
“I want to take you somewhere tomorrow night, it’s a surprise.” Reaching for her hand, I pull her against me. Her sweaty boobs flush with my chest. Fuck I want to bang her against the lockers.
“Tell me where, and I’ll decide,” she whispers, running her hands through my hair. The way her fingernails scrape against my scalp perfectly I can’t help the shiver running down my spine.
“Just say yes, it will make this easier.”
Her hands fall to her sides as she presses her lips into a firm line. Her eyes pretending to study the floor so she doesn’t have to look me in the eyes. She never was one to like the whole going on a date thing. She would much rather sit at home in comfortable clothes, feet kicked up on a coffee table while watching eighties movies. She’ll have to get over that though, because this is happening. I know she’ll love it too. I hope she does anyway.
“Kidnapping you and putting you in the trunk of my car may take away the romantic appeal I’m going for, so stop being… you for a moment and just accept that this is happening.” I give her the best smile I can muster, hoping she’ll succumb to my charm
She grabs me by the hair, her controlling demeanor a turn on, and tugs my head back to meet her beautiful green eyes.
“Fine, but I’m not wearing a dress,” she informs seriously.
I smirk, my chest burning from trying not to laugh.
“I’m more than fine with you naked.”
She pulls my hair hard, before letting go.
“You know what I mean, I’m not dressing up,” she clarifies.
Smacking her ass I stand from the bench.
“Wear whatever you want, you know I find you sexy in anything.”
Chapter Twenty
21 Years Old
Camden
Thomas wraps my hands as I mentally prepare for the fight. I have no idea whom I’m fighting. Everything about this seems off.
“I don’t know if I want to do this Thomas.” He stalls, glancing at me with dazed eyes.
“It’s just cold feet.” Brushing my confession off, he refocuses on my hands.
“Something seems off, this underground shit is too shady.” I swallow hard, replaying all the paperwork I had to sign.
“You are being paid over five hundred thousand for just being here Camden. If you win, it’s a million dollars and a contract for the MFC. Opportunities don’t just present themselves like this. Do you know what you can do with that kind of money son?
I jerk my hand from him. “I know how much I’m being paid.”
A slight knock sounds at the door before it’s pushed open and Silvia Machen walks in. Her black hair shining among the cheap lights.
“How is our number one fighter feeling?” She smiles, but it’s fake. There’s something about this woman that is toxic.
“He’s ready,” Thomas answers for me.
“Great, I just want to make sure we go over everything one last time, to assure there are no issues once you’re in the cage.” She crosses her arms, and sticks her hip out.
“I know the rules—” Well, what rules they do have.
“Great, so you know you are not to talk about The Underground octagon to anyone?”
“Yes,” I huff, flexing my left hand that Thomas just taped. “I signed the NDR, we’ve been through this.”
“You didn’t talk to anyone or suggested its presence to anyone before tonight?”
“In the paperwork, it didn’t say what would happen if I did speak a word about the fight. What happens?”
She gives me an unreadable look, as if I’m brave to even ask.
“If you must know, you’re dealing with the some of the top profiles in the country Mr. Steele. The people bidding here tonight rather enjoy their entertainment in The Underground and will not take threats lightly. If their entertainment is at risk of someone breaking the only rule we have, they may… shall we say… do what comes natural to them.”
“You mean kill?”
“Oh I’m sure they’re much more creative than that.” A sly smile crosses her face, as mine pales.
“Don’t break the rules, and you’ll be fine.”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I inhale a sharp breath.
“Got it.”
Glancing up through my blonde hair I eye her.
“Who am I fighting?”
She smiles so big wrinkles form around her eyes.
“You’ll see… and good luck Mr. Steel, and remember; all is fair in fighting and surviving.”
I sit there, taking in those words. Their meaning, and suddenly think…
I’m in way over my head.
My walkout song plays as smoke and fog drifts around the arena so thick I can’t see in front of me. The ground underneath my feet is moist, the concrete chipped and uneven.
There’s people yelling from the crowd, but I can’t see their faces from the lights and steam. Glancing up there’s tinted boxes, no doubt holding some of the highest bidders.
Entering the octagon, a man in jersey shorts and a white fitted t-shirt slaps my back.
“Good luck.” His voice is deep and strong. He pushes my lower back, ushering me into the octagon. I’m not checked for anything illegal, and no Vaseline is applied to my face.
Stepping inside, I glance around, my heart racing like I’ve just done a line of drugs. I’ve been in many cages before, but for some reason… this one feels different. The white floor is smeared with blood stains, a lot of blood. The metallic smell making my stomach twist. The cage is rusted and chipped, the bleachers are dark to where I can’t see anyone.
The crowd starts going crazy in excitement again, the sound of an unfamiliar song playing. I glance around trying to see where my opponent may be coming from, but I can’t see anything from the lights and fog.
I bounce on the balls of my feet, trying to clear the nerves. You got this. You can do this.
The cage opens, and in steps Bret. Bret from school. He moved our freshman year in high school, and I haven’t seen him since.
“Bret?” My heart stops, my eyes widening.
His eyes find mine and widen in surprise.
“You’re fighting now?” My brows pinch together in question.
He jumps on his feet, smacking his gloves together.
“Yeah, about a year now!” his voice rises to be heard above the chaos. I relax some. Knowing they didn’t just pick him off at his house and throw him into an unmarked van before tossing him in a cage. With the things I’ve seen tonight, that wouldn’t surprise me.
“Are you ready for a fight that will leave you at the edge of your seat?” The announcer speaks into the intercom, and the crowd goes crazy. “A fight among friends, a fight that will test the limits of right and wrong!” They roar, but I’m hardly in any excitement. They planned this fight, they knew Bret and I knew each other and put us against each other to make profit. I exhale, rolling my shoulders. They never said making it to the top would be easy. I can do this.
“Let’s give a big round of applause to Camden Steel and Bret ‘Neanderthal’ Hollis!” The announcer yells, the speaker whistling from the overbearing noise.
The big man outside the cage slams the side of the metal cage, making me jump.