FORCE: Alpha Badboy MMA Romance (34 page)

“I get it. I do.” Victoria licked her lips.

“Good, because you don’t want to see what would happen if you —” Cameron left it there, he didn’t even want to say it.

If she ever left, if she ever betrayed him or broke his trust, he didn’t even want to imagine the shit storm that would ensue.

Instead, he leaned over, took her mouth with his and made sure everyone, including the two skanks across the room, got a clear eye-full of his tongue opening her lips.

“God.” Her cheeks turned to little red wine furnaces as she snapped her eyes back toward the two women who were now taking a long drink of ice water.

“Now, tell me about your show. I want to know everything. You want someone that you can talk to, tell anything? That’s me. Right here.” He thumped his chest like a caveman. “So tell me. You said the opening is Friday after Thanksgiving. I’ve got that fight — remember don’t tell anyone — Wednesday, and you are NOT coming. Is that clear?”

“You sure are good at giving the orders.” The twinkle was back in her eyes as her lips curved into a smile that only shoveled more coal onto the furnace that was burning below Cameron’s belt.

Maybe she’s right. I think I have a damn medical condition. A constant hard on can be fucking inconvenient.

“Yeah, get used to it. I seem to recall you’ve discovered taking orders is more fun that you previously thought.” He gave her hand a squeeze.

“God — sometimes I still feel like this is a dream.” Her voice lowered to just above a whisper, her sweet, soft modesty only making it harder for Cameron to control the insatiable beast down below. “You and me, you know?? The stuff we do, dang. I thought only crazy people did that stuff.”

The sound of her laugh was more precious than diamonds and platinum.

“Yeah, I know. We’re those crazy people, babe. I’ve fucking known for a long time.”

He kissed her again across the table, and he knew for the first time what it felt like to be that kid that grabbed the damn brass ring on the shitty carnival ride while everyone cheered. He finally had it all, and no fucking way would anyone take it from him.

41

Patience was not his virtue.

And every day he dropped her at the gym and watched her disappear behind that green door surrounded by the crumbling brick, the only thing he could think of was how many hours he needed to wait until she was back in the fold.

Greedy bastard. Yep, both of us ol’ boy, when it comes to this one, there’s never enough.

Another morning and Cameron went through their checklist — much to her annoyance.

“Cell phone? Charged?”

“YES. YES. Honestly —”

“What do you do if ANYTHING starts to go one mouse turd sideways? And, if you leave to go fucking anywhere, what do you do?”

“
Call you, text you,
or get my ass in my car and back to your house. I do take the bank deposit today, is that okay??”

He ignored her snarky tone.

“
Our
house. And, yes, fine, go to the bank.”

He found it unnecessary to talk about moving in together, Cameron didn’t need the grief. He just kept stopping by her place and grabbing stuff every day between training and picking her up at work.

What he couldn’t fit in his car, he hired some guys to put in the back of their truck and cart it over. He paid off her landlord for the five months left on her lease and handed in her keys.

Her furniture was shit, so Cameron didn’t care about most of that. She did have some things that belonged to her mom, so he made sure those were placed in prominent positions within the small flat that would be their first nest together.

She pouted about him taking control of moving her ass without talking to her first, but he ignored it, she wasn’t staying in that upstairs rat hole any longer.

Once he got his feet under him, Cameron knew he would find them a beautiful old farmhouse outside the city where she could have her horses, a photo studio, or whatever the hell else she wanted.

Last night he took her through her paces. Fucking her fine as hell ass up against damn near every wall in the house and bent over every piece of furniture. When he rolled out of her and cradled into his chest, he asked her what kind of house she would want.

“So, when we get our next place. What is your dream house? If you could live anywhere, where would it be?” Cameron’s fingers tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her head.

“I would have a big white farmhouse. Horses out back, maybe some chickens clucking and pecking around, and lots of space. I don’t want any neighbors as far as I can see. That’s stupid, right? A girl like me, city through and through, out in some countryside somewhere?”

“No babe, it’s not even close to stupid. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

Little did she know, he was already poking around and crunching numbers to see just how much he needed to get them out of here and into a real home.

Now, today, they sat in the back parking lot with Victoria taking a deep breath as Cameron made sure she didn’t deflect the issue at hand.

“You know they’ve both been really good lately. My dad actually grumbled something about what I good job I do around here.”

“That’s nice. They’re still fucked, so rules are rules. It’s your ass I’m gonna tear into if you don’t keep your head straight. Got it? I’m not playing. It’s no fucking joke. You want to work there? Then you follow my fucking rules.”

“You. Are. A. Caveman. And
, don't smile,
because that isn’t a compliment.”

Victoria groaned, but she felt that tingle down below and shook her head at the juxtaposition of her mind and her body.

On one hand, she wanted to punch him right in the bloody teeth (but, they were sexy teeth. Can teeth be sexy? On Cameron, everything was sexy.),

On the other, when he dominated her, her body and mind submitted entirely to him, and she turned into some mewing bitch in heat.

“Don’t forget it.” His hand shot out from the steering wheel like a viper around her neck, squeezing just enough to put a hitch in her next breath. “Come here, gimme a kiss then get your ass inside.”

Her tummy flipped like a pancake in a hot skillet after his lips and tongue took their long moment on hers.

“Maybe you should just drag me inside by my hair.”

She took her final shot across the bow as she closed the door on the Camaro, gave him a wry self-satisfied grin and sashayed toward the door, leaving Cameron imagining all the things he would like to be doing to her wiggling ass right then.

There was a skip in her step, and he felt the swell of his heart as she reached for the door handle.

Putting the Camaro in first, Cameron eased up on the clutch and took one look back to be sure she was safely inside. Instead, there she stood with the door held by her foot, looking back at him. She mouthed those three words that up until today were left unspoken and he felt like a mortar just went off inside his head.

Cameron couldn’t be sure what it felt like to walk into that white light people talk about that die then are lucky enough to come back. But seeing her tell him for the first time she loved him, he surely was as close to heaven as an earthbound soul could be.

As he drove away, he could see them in his mind, ten years from now. Both of them still loving and fucking and yelling at a gaggle of kids that tugged on Daddy’s hands begging him to stop kissing Mommy and come outside and play. For the first time in his life, he saw the future and it wasn’t shit, it was golden and her face was at the center of it all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inside, Reggie noticed right away Cameron’s focus was hawk like and after two rounds with a sparring partner, the poor dude tapped and made some lame excuse about having to use the bathroom.

“I think he shit himself with that last one.” Reggie slapped Cameron on the ass.

“He’s a tourist,” Cameron said with a wink.

“Well, he’s a well-tenderized tourist,” Reggie sighed.

Cameron looked down at the mat, slick with drops of sweat as he swung his thick muscled arms back and forth across the width of his chest.

“Good. He needed to be schooled up a bit.”

“Yeah, well, I think he saw his life flash before his eyes on that last kick to the head. Dude, we’re
sparring
remember? That’s not fucking Jake or Topher in there. You’ve already gone through three other partners this week, I’m running out of guys for you to damage, so ease the fuck up a bit. We’re almost ten days out; you’ll peak too early. Just follow my fucking program alright? Ease up, damn, you’re like Tommy fucking Conlon today. Take a breath.”

Cameron trusted Reggie as much as anyone else on the planet, and he did his best to hear the words and fill his lungs slowly with oxygen and slow his mind.

“Now, listen to me. I know you’ve got shit on your mind, but this fight —” Reggie’s voice lowered, and he leaned in close. “This is your fucking shot man. There’s not a lot of confidence left in your future. Most everyone who’s anyone thinks you’re done; you’re too unpredictable. But, you’ve got your last shot with Simon. You’ve got to focus. You’ve got to win this fucking fight, but you have to do it big. They want a star, Reed sees something in you, something he thinks can take you top of the card, UFC, bright lights, top billing man.”

Cameron’s head spun and buzzed. Every way he looked at it, he hit a brick wall. He was inside some crazy maze and everywhere he turned it was a dead end.

“I got it, man.” Cameron looked down at the mat as he shuffled his feet and twisted one fist into his open palm slurping on the blood red mouth guard he clenched between his front teeth.

“Look at me.” Reggie’s dark eyes followed Cameron even as he tried to evade his knowing glare. “Don’t fuck this up, man. Your old man’s gonna have to deal with his own shit. This isn’t your problem. All you gotta do it focus on your fight and everything else will work itself out after. Got it? I’m not fucking kidding man, I’m your friend — and you ain’t got many left — and I’m telling you, this is your last damn chance. You fuck this up, you’re gonna be fighting in parking lots and bars for $250 a pop until you end up just like your old man. Simon is here because of you, but he’s also here because of me – and don’t tarnish my good name, okay?” Reggie flashed a quick gleaming smile and Cameron gave him a nod.

“So, get out of here for today.”

“But —” Cameron looked up at the clock. It was just past noon, Reggie usually pounded the crap out of him with weights, heavy bags, then sprints on the treadmill until at least 4:00.

“Go. Tomorrow I’m going to kick your ass. Today, you need to figure out if you are in it to win it or not. Every few days you need a damn reset. I’ll always be here for you man, I will -- as your friend. But no one but you is going to know what you’re going to do until you get in that ring. I get it, I know you’re in the eye of the hurricane. Take the day, see you tomorrow.”

Reggie left him with one hand crushing the fist inside, and his jaw cracking as his teeth made grinding noises, and the vein on his forehead stood up like a soldier ready for war.

42

“She’s not here.” Roger slurped his tongue inside his lips as he turned back to the new Irish rogue that danced around the ring, throwing a sidelong glance toward Cameron.

Roger’s nose still looked like a camo pattern of puke green and sick jaundice yellow as it wrapped up under his left eye.

“Left with your baby brother about thirty minutes ago. Said she’d be back by 2. Looked like they were going out for a nice little lunch date — Gilroy’s I think. Asked if I wanted takeout.” He sneered and smacked his lips as he turned back to focus on this new guy that always seemed to be around lately which only raised Cameron’s radar.

“Oh — and,” Roger’s thick tongued voice followed Cameron as he moved toward the back hall, “Victoria got a nice delivery earlier too. Seemed to really cheer her up.”

He felt like some jungle fever came over him.

What the fuck? Not fucking today. Is this a joke? Did I not made it fucking clear as Baccarat crystal she was not to leave without telling me who, what, when, and where? Delivery? What fucking delivery? What doesn’t she understand about letting me know what the fuck is going on?

Cameron smashed into the back office; sure Roger must be delusional. He expected to find her sitting behind her desk tapping the keys on her computer or having it out with some vendor over the phone about when they would get their check.

Instead, Cameron felt his stomach turn. Three strides and his hand was on the little card that stuck up out of the mass of ivory petals.

The vase of white roses dominated the room; the sweet scent only served to ignite his fury as the little card shook in his fingers.

‘One night, the Meridan on Bates. Reservations made. T.’

The red lights didn’t even register on his radar as the Camaro turned on two wheels down Warren and onto Shepard coming to a screaming halt in the parking lot behind Gilroy’s Restaurant.

He barreled out the car door before the engine quit humming; leaving the driver’s door unlocked for the first time in twenty years as he felt the pavement crunch under each footfall.

Six foot five inches and 267 pounds of iron clad fury stomped toward the front door of the restaurant.

What the fuck? How could she not tell him? Flowers? Lunch out? She knew he was supposed to be at Reggie’s until at least 4. Did she really not understand the fucking rules? How the fuck was he supposed to protect her ass when she was leaving him out of the damn loop? She was a tough nut to crack, but babygirl needed another lesson.
After I redden her ass, she may not get her happy ending.

The last second he rounded the corner his breath caught in each lung like barbed wire, he held onto the one fiber of hope that this wasn’t as bad as his gut was telling him. But, if the burning in his face was any indication, all out war was about to begin.

His eyes caught them like a Bald Eagle looking for a mouse at 1000 yards. Cameron locked on to their fingers as they intertwined across the table. The glare through the front glass of Gilroy’s couldn’t hide the connection he saw. He watched as the light curls on the back of Asher’s head leaned forward and his lips connected with her cheek.

Then, the apocalypse hit.

She smiled. Dear Jesus, please tell me she didn’t just smile. She did, she fucking smiled across the table while he held her hand and kissed her like she is fucking available for that shit. Stop, you better stop right fucking now. Leave, leave, leave.

Cameron’s fingertips dug into his palm as his hand locked onto the door handle.

No one understood what happened in a brain like his. Once the switched flipped, there was no law, no consequences that would hold him back. The only two people he loved in the fucking world were sitting there with their betrayal in full fucking view.

Everything slowed, there was no rational thought, only instinct, and subconscious reaction. A pounding started in his head like a hail storm, and his skin felt like it was covered in stinging fire ants.

He didn’t know what was happening in those next few seconds, but, her eyes flashed to the door where he dropped the handle as she dropped Asher’s hand. Their eyes locked together for the smallest fraction of a second.

Her hand opened, the connection between the betrayers lost. Her eyes looked like she encountered a vision of the devil in human form as Cameron turned away, and his muscles carried him without conscious thought back around the corner of the brick buildings.

He had never felt a pain of this magnitude. Through every fight, every beating he took with the belt from Larry, his lit cigarettes that used his arm as their ashtray — nothing felt one fucking bit as close to what was going on inside his head and his body right then.

Only his heart felt nothing, because it was no longer there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He heard it, it was his name. Only, there was no meaning to it, somehow the voice and the word were separate, as though they had no connection to him or each other.

His foot met the floor on top of the accelerator, the eight cylinders blowing through a gallon of gas as the engine screamed. He sent the needle into the red, not sure where to go.

The clutch man. Let up on the fucking clutch!

Her palms were slapping on his window.

There’s that voice again.

Words were coming out of her mouth, but she may as well been speaking Latin because they held no meaning. There existed no reality above the noise of the engine as Cameron struggled to block out everything.

He slammed his hand into the steering wheel and let out a bellow like dragon fire across some mythical dark valley.

She was screaming, knocking and pounding on the glass that felt like a million years and a thousand miles away. How can he keep her safe? How can he trust her? How could she do this?

“Get the fuck off the car.” Cameron let off the accelerator just enough for his voice to carry through the glass.

“Stop it! Let me explain! It’s nothing, Cam. It’s not —”

He roared the engine again, and her hands shot up to cover her ears.

Clutch man. Get us out of here. The fucking clutch!

Why couldn’t he leave?

There was nothing she could say right now. Not one magic word. Not a thousand magic words. It was fucking betrayal, no matter what the reason. Promises broken meant worlds collided and their lives were no longer on parallel paths.

Then, everything felt thick, heavy, slow, and silent. She was still knocking on the window as his hand slowly turned the knob, and the clear barrier went down in slow, uneven inches.

He saw what must have been relief in her eyes, but it didn’t register anything other than what his brain identified as some human emotion for which he had no purpose.

She was pleading, the sounds coming out of her were gibberish as the hammers in his head doubled into his gut. He felt stinging flames branch out through every vessel and vein until his skin felt it would peel from the heat.

“You can stay at my place, I won’t be there. Get your stuff, don’t get your stuff, I don’t give a shit.”

The noise finally stopped coming out of her mouth, all that was left were those eyes and Cameron felt his stomach come up.

“I didn’t do —”

“Yes, you did. I told you what you needed to do, you agreed. You lied. You fucked up the trust I had in you. You want Asher? I told you to fucking tell me that, and I would have taken my back seat and let you go. But you fucking promised me there was nothing fucking there! And, the fucking flowers? What, you’ve got that shit all covered too, huh? I love you more than my own fucking life. I always have. Don’t you fucking get it? I would die for you, kill any fucker for you. But, you need to listen, I can’t be around if you’re going to be off making your own fucking rules. That shit don’t fly, Vic. No fucking way. You fucked this up, and I’m fucking done. I’ve got the balls, and they fucking ordain me to take care of shit, I’m no fucking pussy. I can’t ride this fucking ride with you, it’s too much. I’m dying right fucking now — so we’re done.”

Cameron had never felt that clutching feeling in his throat before and there was an unfamiliar prick in his eyes. He bit down on the inside of his lip until the metallic flavor spread over his tongue, and the pain distracted his heart from beating again.

“Cameron, come on, it —”

Words again, she was saying words again, and they meant as much to him as a discarded dirty rubber.

“Shut the fuck up, Victoria. Go back inside, do whatever you fucking want because that’s what you do. I gave you my fucking word, and I kept it. You agreed to the fucking rules. I’m here to protect you; I’m here to tell you how shit is going to go down, not the other way around. If I can’t keep you safe, then I can’t be here. I’m going to take care of this bullshit debt once and for all, but then, I’m leaving. I’m done. We had our shot, and it’s not going to work because I can’t trust you to do as your fucking told. Now, get your hands off the fucking car or you’re going to get hurt.”

“You're being an assho—”

Cameron stomped his boot to the floor, and his left foot rose off the clutch, the smell of rubber, exhaust fumes and the sound of the pistons firing 400 horses muffed out any more of her useless syllables.

He drove straight to the cell phone store as soon as he heard his phone start blowing up inside his jeans pocket.

Outside on the pavement, he crushed the image of her face with the heel of his boot as it came up on the screen along with the ringtone that usually sent his blood flowing and his cock rising. But, he didn’t know shades of gray and when he was done, he was fucking done.

New phone, new number — the beginning of the end of everything he had ever wanted