Break Me (Alpha MMA Fighter) (16 page)

BOOK: Break Me (Alpha MMA Fighter)
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It was time to go.

 

The cool, crisp air outside made her glad she’d brought a jacket. It was too early to go back to her room, and this
was
her first trip to Reno. A little exploring couldn’t hurt. Penny arcades and mall amusements she knew; bona fide themed casinos she did not. The amount of traffic driving up and down the Strip surprised her. They weren’t all limos and Hummers either. Maybe she’d expected Reno to be more like Monaco. But here there were coach loads of tourists, as well as motorcycle clubs, and plain old taxis by the score: whatever your bank balance or background, there was something for you in Reno.

 

She wandered into a nearby glitzy casino called The Dolphin. Its aquarium motif extended from the blue carpet to the shimmering ceiling and the fish tanks separating the various gaming areas. It looked fun, so she changed fifty dollars into coins for the slots. After being one nudge away from a big pay-out on only her third spin, Rose was hooked. She quickly forgot where she was. Chasing a win, any kind of win, became her new mission. And it was a lot less stressful than her previous one. In fact, she could happily spend the next few days in here on her own, using up Luca’s dollars, and let the boys take care of themselves.

 

Who cared about fighting anyway, when there were jackpots to be won?

 

She netted a sweet seventy-five dollar catch on a slot machine called Buried Treasure, then blew it on another called Rope Bridge High-jinx, before winning it back and then some on a seriously addictive one named Darts Master. She sank her latest horde of silver dollars into her plastic cup and kissed the rim for good luck, when a voice behind spoke up. “Rose Jacqueline, will you come with us please?”

 

“Huh? Who are you?”

 

There were five of them in all—well-dressed men of various ages, shapes, and ethnicities. The speaker was the biggest. He had streaky blond hair, dark stubble, and an earring. She was certain they must be casino security, but what did they want with her?

 

“It’s better if you just come with us. Let’s take it outside.” He went to take her arm, but she brushed him off.

 

“Not unless you tell me what this is all about,” she said. “And whatever it is, you’ve got the wrong girl.”

 

“You’ve been asking questions about Mr. Delgado,” he said.

 

Oh crap. Here we go.

 

“Nope. Never heard of him. Told you, you’ve got the wrong girl. I suggest you find yourselves another random innocent stranger to annoy. I’m busy.”

 

Again he grabbed for her arm. Again she knocked his hand away.

 

He stepped in closer, towering over her. “Come with us quietly, or we’ll drag you out by your fucking hair.”

 

Rose glanced around her, desperate to catch the eye of a
real
casino official. Someone had to realize this wasn’t kosher. These guys didn’t work here, but they were crowding round her, a paying customer, in a threatening manner. She thought about screaming for help, but she was too near the exit. They could drag her out before security even got close, and they might even have a car waiting outside. Maybe a van.

 

“I’ve just had it washed,” she said.

 

“I won’t warn you again.” He stepped behind her.

 

She considered playing along and then making a break all of a sudden, but that was risky. They’d be expecting that.

 

Her phone rang. She motioned to answer it, but he issued another threat. “Touch it and I’ll break you in half.”

 

She spat back, “You fucking hero!”

 

“Move.
Now
.”

 

His one hand on her shoulder, the other clamping her ass, shot hate, then panic, and finally a heady dose of stupid juice into her reasoning. She knew what she was about to do made no sense, but like most of the impulses she’d listened to in her life, it was just something she had to go through with. Taking on five guys at once was suicide. It was nuts! But if she couldn’t get help and she couldn’t get away, that only left doing what they wanted. Winding up strapped to a chair, interrogated in ways she didn’t want to imagine, all because she’d overheard some old geezer drop a couple of names. An old geezer who was probably already strapped to that same chair, having his balls fed to him….

 

She walked with them, carrying her cup full of dollars at her side. They didn’t seem to notice it as they closed ranks around her, effectively hiding her from onlookers
and
preventing her escape.

 

We’ll see about that.

 

Rose swivelled round and emptied the cup of quarters into Blondie’s face. He grunted, reached out to grab her. She caught his outstretched hand, sidestepped, and jerked him down with a wrist throw, exactly like Avery had taught her. The only difference was she couldn’t apply the lock. He struggled too much on the floor, and she wasn’t on top of him quick enough. She was too light.

 

Strong arms gripped her roughly from behind, around her neck. They yanked her to her feet, choking her. Rose couldn’t breathe. She tried to stab his shins with her stiletto heels, but the bastard was in too close; he locked her legs in place. Blondie, the big guy she’d just taken down with the wrist throw, was now back on his feet, a murderous look on his face. Silver dollars spangled the dark blue carpet like sunken treasure on the bottom of a lake. Her vision began to blur. Through a fog she heard: “Quick! Grab her legs and get her out of here.”

 

Rose reached back behind her head with both hands, focused all her strength into her fingers. They burned with adrenaline as she managed to pry two of his fingers loose, and used them to lift his arm over her head, where she wedged it under her elbow. It was nothing like she’d practiced. Maybe she’d left it too late. But with one last effort she wrestled his remaining hand free and ducked out of his hold altogether. All this happened within the space of a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity.

 

Being suddenly free from his grasp kicked everything into a kind of hyper perception, a higher gear of awareness. She saw them clearly, all at once; she knew where they were and how quickly each of them would reach her if she stayed put. Split-seconds would decide this. They had her surrounded, but if she could just take
one
of them out and make run for it….

 

She jammed her stiletto heel into the back of the choker’s knee, felling him on the spot. Then she peeled that shoe off and brandished it as a weapon. Two of them lunged for her at the same time. She swung the point of her heel at one and caught him across the face. He yelled in pain. The other attacker got his arms around Rose, wrestled her into a bear hug that squeezed her arms against her ribs. She fought like crazy, but he was just too strong. And though she kicked out at the others, they got hold of a leg each and carried her spitting and cursing toward the exit.

 

“Oi, what’s going on? What’s
she
done to deserve that?”

 

Through her misty vision Rose saw the outlines of two women blocking the exit. They were dressed in sparkly clothes, but other than that she couldn’t tell anything about them.

 

“Get out of the way!” one of her abductors warned them.

 

“Why don’t you make us? Five against one—hardly seems fair. What say we even the odds a little? See? I won’t even use my taser.” One of the women appeared to drop her handbag onto the carpet. “Now, drop her and leave or we drop you and you stretch…I mean you leave on a stretcher? Did I get it right, sis?”

 

“More or less.”

 

Rose blinked the mist from her vision for a few seconds, long enough to see the Twitches, dressed in matching black miniskirts and sparkling halter tops, take up their fight stances!

 

Two of the abductors went to push them aside, must have thought Ashley and Lena were drunk, or insane. But the Twitches floored the men in seconds, with devastating takedown maneuvers that Rose cheered on with a string of four-letter words.

 

Blondie didn’t mess around though. He seemed to have had enough of his posse being thrown around by women. He kicked Ashley Culver in the kidneys, then kneed her in the face when she doubled up. Vicious as hell. That infuriated Lena, who sprang up and delivered a roundhouse kick to his head. She followed that up with a relentless barrage of punches and kicks. But the big guy caught one of her kicks and hurled her across the carpet by her leg. She skidded into one of the men holding Rose, and immediately swept his legs from under him.

 

Rose struggled so much, the last man holding her had to let go.

 

Now it was five against three. Five men against three women. But although people in the casino were screaming for someone to help Rose and her two Mitre frenemies, the abductors did
not
want to give up. And nor were there any security personnel on the way.

 

What the hell was happening?

 

Ashley’s face was covered with blood. Lena appeared to have a groin injury. But neither of them backed down an inch as the five abductors circled Rose. They flew into the fray like pissed-off siblings, each dying to avenge the injuries inflicted on the other. But for every hit they scored, the abductors struck back with three or four hurtful blows. It was simply a matter of weight and numbers. The Twitches might be talented fighters, but they were outmatched.

 

Rose kicked two of her attackers in the balls, elbowed one in the nose, and even head-butted one. But they wrestled her off her feet and again tried to carry her outside. Blue carpet became speckled marble steps underneath her. She glimpsed the white van parked outside, waiting to whisk her away.

 

That was when all hell broke loose in The Dolphin.

 

She didn’t seem him at first, not until two of the abductors flew back as though a grenade had exploded near them. But it wasn’t a grenade; it was Avery and Marlon in full-on furious kickboxing mode. They hadn’t even had chance to take their jackets off. But they did so now, and tossed them aside.

 

The two men who’d just been knocked down got slowly to their feet and joined the others. The five of them formed a barrier between Rose, on the casino side, and the four Mitre fighters at the top of the steps, street-side. Still no security personnel.

 

“You okay?” Avery shouted to her. She just stared at him, not sure whether her deep relief at him being here to rescue her was premature or not. Who the hell
were
these abductors? If their employer held sway over casino security, might more thugs be on the way? What if the new arrivals came armed?

 

“Rose? Are you hurt?” he asked again.

 

“No. What do I do? They’re trying to kidnap me!”

 

Three of the abductors huddled together to confer, while the other two kept a close eye on her. Avery and Marlon shared a word or two, then nodded in agreement. Meanwhile, the Twitches stood their ground, watching their opponents like wild cats set to move in on an appetizing herd. The fighting would resume any second now. She could feel the tension. It squeezed like the pressure around a steadily falling submersible. Implosion was imminent.

 

Avery could take care of himself, sure, but what if more abductors arrived? The thought of him getting hurt, maybe worse, lit a match under her.

 

Rose bolted into the casino.

 

“Don’t let her get away!” yelled Blondie. Punters screamed and dashed out of her way as she sprinted into a flashing, colorful world of chimes and jingles. Behind her, several thuds and loud crashes told her the fight had just spilled into the slots area. After darting behind a massive neon archway with cascading blue letters that spelled MAKE A SPLASH $5000 JACKPOT, she looked back through a gap under the arch.

 

The one abductor who’d followed her glanced frantically about. He’d lost her and was spitting mad. Rose spotted Marlon trading blows with someone near the exit. The Twitches were busy tackling another abductor, plus a man she hadn’t seen before, wearing a casual blue jacket and a baseball cap. Was he the van driver?

 

That left Avery on his own against two—one of them had to be Blondie. She couldn’t see them at first. Not until a pair of legs wheeled upside down over the tops of the slots to her left, followed by the sound of breaking glass.

 

She sneaked toward that aisle, unscrewed a metal cordon post off its stand on the way, and unhooked the thick rope. It was heavy, but Avery was outnumbered. Her Avery. She carried it with both hands. By the time she reached him, he’d disabled one of his opponents, presumably the one she’d seen flying head over heels. He lay unconscious on the floor beneath a smashed pinball machine, the insides of which still clicked and jived away like an insane clockwork clown. That left Blondie versus Avery. But with one big difference.

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