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Authors: London Casey,Ana W. Fawkes

Hurt: A Bad Boy MMA Romantic Suspense Novel (4 page)

BOOK: Hurt: A Bad Boy MMA Romantic Suspense Novel
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The woman hurried to the door and left.

I half wished she took me with her.

I stared down Benito and the gun pointed at me. His lips were sealed tight. His head gently bobbed left to right, showing no emotion. He never showed emotion.

He put the gun to my chest - right at my heart - and he pushed at me. I walked back to the door. I dropped the beer bottle to the floor. My hands were then at my sides, balled into fists. I was okay with taking shit on the inside, but not now. Not with freedom on my lips, tasting as sweet as that first breath when your between a woman’s legs.

I didn’t wait a year to get out of jail for this shit.

“You’re out,” Benito said.

“I’m out.”

“And here you are.”

“Here I am.”

“I got you out.”

“I know. I appreciate that. You put me in there.”

Benito’s nostrils flared. “You look like you want to hurt me, Noah.”

“If you don’t get that fucking gun away from my chest in three seconds, I’m going to hurt you. If you’re going to shoot me, just do it.”

Benito nodded. He moved the gun from me. “I’m just fucking around, Noah. Jail time put a little hair on your chest, huh?”

Before I could answer, Benito grabbed my face and pulled me down for a kiss. He fat lips smacked my cheeks one at a time. He then nodded at me.

“You did good,” Benito said. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am the way it happened.”

“I think we have a lot to catch up on,” I said.

The door opened behind me and hit me in the ass.

“Sorry, Noah,” Dante said as he entered. He had a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

“Drink time,” Benito said. “One shot for each month of serving in that hell hole.”

The door shut again and Dante stayed in the room.

I took a seat and Benito served the first shot. It mixed well with the drinks I already had at the bar.

“Someone set me up,” Benito said. “Family bullshit stuff, Noah. Now, we had a plan in place and you were popped.”

My own fault. I didn’t run fast enough. I was too busy looking for a woman I had fucked into the bathroom.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m not angry about it.”

“Good. I’m proud of you, Noah. You gave up nothing. You took your hit and I made sure to take care of you. Not to mention you won that fight and got that annoying piece of shit, Jack, off my back.”

I laughed.

“We’re still building,” Dante said. “Slowly adding fights again. Working our way from the outside resources.”

“Meaning?” I asked.

“Running the streets.”

I nodded.

That made sense. Benito had pulled Dante off the streets. The guy knew everyone and everything. From drugs to guns to fights, Dante knew how to work the street. He commanded respect and earned it at the same time. He was damn good on the street and it was pretty obvious why Benito still had power and why Dante was in a suit.

“I want out of that,” Benito said. “Too bloody. The return is nice, but that’s not what my family is about.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Collections,” Dante said. He adjusted his tie. “That’s where the big money is waiting.”

“Collections?” I asked.

“Debts,” Benito said. “Money just floating out there. What’s owed to me. I’ve waited for someone like Dante to step forward and take charge for me. We’re going to be collecting on some owed money. That’s where you come into play, Noah. You’re the hunter. The fighter. The muscle. You’re going to bring me cash or bodies, whatever works.”

“Okay,” I said. “Okay.”

“We have one for you right now,” Dante said.

“I’m ready.”

“Take the night off,” Benito said. “Go have a few more drinks. Find a woman. Hell, pick any woman out there. Pick two. My treat.”

I stood up. “No. I’m okay. I want to get to work. I can’t just sit around.”

Dante and Benito looked at each other.

“Okay then,” Benito said. “Dante will give you the information.”

“Excellent,” I said. “Thank you, Benito, for keeping me safe on the inside.”

Benito offered his hand and I took it. “Thank you, Noah. You took all that like a man. You knew there was an end and you kept calm. If there’s anything I can do…”

“Bo,” I blurted out.

“What?”

“Bo. The guy in my cell. You had him watch me.”

“Ah, yes.”

“I want him safe. I want him treated like royalty. If he can’t get out, his family needs to be cared for. They need to see each other. If I ever have a kid, I hope I love it half as much as Bo loves his kids.”

Benito nodded. “Sure thing, Noah.”

I walked to the door and Dante opened it for me.

“For the record, Noah,” Dante said softly, “you’re not retired.”

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“Fighting,” Dante said. “You’re going to make the biggest fucking return in underground fighting. You’re going to make everyone very rich, including yourself. Now let’s go talk business.”

Dante patted my back.

I left the office.

Tracking people down… fighting… I was finally feeling right at home again.

 

9.

 

(Ashlynn)

 

“I’ll pay you for all of this.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Leah said. She plucked the bottle from Jude’s mouth and started to burp him.

I was frazzled. My head spinning.

I stepped to Leah and touched Jude’s head.

It was the middle of the damn night and we were in a hospital. Leah should have stayed at the apartment with Jude, but my emotions got the best of me. Somewhere it made sense to drag the baby out. Because if I was going to lose my mother, I wanted to see and hold my son. A reminder of life and death always mixed together.

“You helped me,” Leah said, her eyes looking away. “Tonight. With so much. Just talking to me. Yelling at me. Putting me in my place.”

“I’m really sorry for whatever is going on at home,” I said. “It’s not always easy, but you’ll be on your own soon.”

“Jeremy is working and saving money,” Leah said. “We’re going to get an apartment as soon as he turns eighteen.”

I grinned. The young love game was risky, but I wasn’t in any position to try and talk about that right then. I let Leah have her moment, have her dreams.

The door opened behind me.

I hurried and grabbed Jude from Leah. I clutched my son tight as Dr. Harrison approached.

“I’ll go get a coffee,” Leah said.

“No,” I said. “Stay.”

I grabbed her hand.

This teenage babysitter was the closest thing to a friend I had. My life was a big mess.

“Is she…” I started to ask.

“She’s okay,” Dr. H said. “She’s stable now. Her cell counts…” The doctor sighed. “I’m sorry, Ashlynn. There’s not much more we can do now. We can keep her comfortable. Keep her monitored and stable. We’ve talked about the end before, right?”

I nodded. “It’s here.”

“Yes,” Dr. H said. “I’m terribly sorry, Ashlynn.”

“Me too,” I whispered. “She’s okay though? Comfortable? No pain?”

“Right now she’s sleeping. We’ll monitor her overnight and run some more tests tomorrow.” Dr. H touched my arm. “There’s nothing you can do for her. My personal advice would be to call any friends or family that haven’t seen her in a while. Maybe get everyone together to say goodbye. Sometimes patients will hold on until they have everything in order. Hopefully she’ll have a little more energy tomorrow and you’ll be able to talk to her.”

“Her treatments…”

“I think it’s best we stop,” Dr. H said. He swallowed. “I fear that treatments would potentially do more harm than good right now.”

Jude let out a whine.

I let Leah’s hand go.

I stared at my baby.

My eyes filled with tears.

I was going to be alone… forever.

 

10.

 

(Noah)

 

I chugged some water and got ready. I had a choice between a car and a motorcycle. An old part of my life pushed against my memory. Riding the streets with a crew had been where it all started for me. Before Benito took the MC down and took me under his wing to be his top fighter. Not that I gave a shit, because everyone in the old MC was nothing but crooked pieces of garbage.

The motorcycle called to me though.

Being boxed up in a car would drive me nuts.

I wanted freedom.

I climbed on the two wheeled steel beauty and hit the street.

The address was on a piece of paper in my pocket, but I had it memorized.

I knew right where it was.

I had a loaded gun on my ankle and I was ready to get right back to work.

Time to hunt.

 

~ ~ ~

 

I made sure the building was in the clear of any strange activity. It was a small apartment complex. Not quite a rundown shit hole but not upscale enough to have decent lighting or security. That meant I could walk right up to the building and right inside. I walked up a small set of steps and opened the next door. All the smells of the apartments collected in the hallway. Flowery shit, spaghetti sauce, garlic, dust, it all mixed.

As I walked, I counted three doors on my left.

Then stopped.

I faced the door and knocked.

I crouched and grabbed my gun, keeping it hidden enough so if someone came out of the other apartments, they wouldn’t see shit.

When nobody came to the door I knocked again.

Still no answer.

Lucky for me I had experience in this exact kind of situation.

I learned a trick a long time ago how to pop open any locks. Deadlocks were a little tougher, and the door did have one. I started with the main lock on the knob. I used a small tool that took some playing with to get it to work right. This door was a bit of a bitch. I had to keep stopping and checking the hallway. Last thing I needed was Mrs. So-and-so two doors down to poke her beady little eyes out and see me breaking into an apartment. I’d be back in jail before the sun could come up.

I hadn’t seen a sun rise in a year.

Think about that.

Fuck.

Sweat started to trickle down my forehead as I gave it one last go. I jammed the tool inside the lock and twisted. The knob finally fucking turned. And better yet, the door opened. The guy who lived in the apartment didn't engage the deadlock.

What an asshole.

Not only did this scumbag owe Benito almost fifty grand, he was dumb enough to leave his place exposed.

I had no real business going inside. I was merely the muscle of this thing, there to wait him out and make a clear threat to pay up or else. I’d get my chance to rough him up a little. Feel the guy out and then call Benito to see what he wanted to do. It was far better than sitting in a jail cell, spitting on the floor, watching it fucking dry.

Something about the place didn’t feel right. From the second I shut the door behind me, there was something off. I couldn’t put my finger on it though. It almost felt like I had been there before, which was impossible.

I kept the lights off and did a sweep of the place. There was always a chance that the guy was asleep in bed. Maybe with a TV on or maybe just a sound sleeper.

Sure as shit, I heard voices murmuring. Then laughter. Cheap, sitcom laughter. I held my gun tight and walked down the hall. I turned to the left and saw the glow of the TV spread across the floor, making the bed and nightstand dancing with shadows as though they were laughing along with the TV.

I jumped into the room and found it empty.

It smelled…
different.

Nothing about the place felt right.

I quickly turned and braced myself. I told myself to calm down. Of course this would feel a little off. It was my first time since going inside. I knew the risk of my life… but to face the piper changed all of it. Knowing I could go inside and stay there…

I walked across the hall and opened another door.

It was another bedroom.

A baby’s room.

“A baby?” I whispered.

The crib was empty. Hanging above the crib were letters, dangling by white string, spelling out the baby’s name.

“Jude.”

 

11.

 

(Ashlynn)

 

I carried a sleeping Jude in my arms as I approached the apartment door. There was no reason for me to stay at the hospital. Call me the worst daughter ever, that’s fine, but considering my mother came into my life after she found out she was sick, I think we could call it pretty even.

She was sedated and would be for at least a day as the doctors would run more tests. Dr. H wanted me to call friends and family? There were none. Any bridge my mother crossed she was sure to toss her lit cigarette over her shoulder and watch it burn.

That was just her style.

I forced Leah to go home. I dropped her off and watched her go inside to make sure she didn’t try anything funny. Yeah, she could have snuck right out the back door and went to her boyfriend’s house, but that wasn’t my problem.

I offered to talk to her mother about what had happened, but Leah begged me not to.

I felt for her.

Hell, I felt for myself.

I felt for Jude.

I even felt for him.
For Jude’s father.

If only…

I stuck my key in the lock and turned. I opened the door, shaking my head. My head was so beat up and tired, thoughts I shouldn’t have been thinking were racing through my mind.

The TV was still on in my mother’s room. I had no urge to turn it off. So I shut the door. I didn’t want to see or smell the room ever again. I’d pay someone to clean the room up. The odor was hard to describe. Sick. Death. Just… bad.

I went for my room, my bed, Jude still in my arms. Baby books and overzealous people warn against sleeping with a baby. I didn’t give a shit. Jude was comfortable on my chest and I felt safer with him close to me. It was like my subconscious knew something I didn’t quite know.

Worst case? I had a gun tucked in my nightstand drawer.

There had been a customer at the restaurant who took to the pregnancy thing way too much. I helped at the place as much as I could while pregnant. Not wearing bikinis and running around, trying to earn tips. But I helped with the paperwork, ordering, accounting, that kind of stuff. A guy named Charlie confessed he had a thing for pregnant women and wanted to help me get the baby out.

BOOK: Hurt: A Bad Boy MMA Romantic Suspense Novel
11.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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