Hurt: A Bad Boy MMA Romantic Suspense Novel (15 page)

It didn’t cut deep though.

I touched my stomach and then kicked Scar in the mouth. He fell back but held the shank in the air, defending himself. I took a few steps back, smart enough to know when I needed to reorganize myself. See, some guys were assholes. They thought they were heroes in movies. I wasn’t a hero. Nobody around me was a hero. I was a fighter. Scar was a fighter. We were toys. The men around us, smoking cigars and drinking whiskey, they were degenerates. They had more money than they knew how to spend so they bet on illegal fights.

If I charged at Scar, I’d end up getting hit with the shank for good.

I backed up and checked the cut on my stomach.

I was fine.

I probably didn’t even need stitches.

I looked back and saw Benito standing, rubbing his jaw. There were two scenarios here. One, Benito wanted me dead. He stacked the fight and the bets to go against me. He allowed Scar to have a shank and come at me to kill me and gut me. Or two, he put the weapons in place without telling me so he could bet more. Bet on how many times I’d get stabbed. Bet for me to win, knowing the disadvantage of the weapons because I didn’t know about it.

Either way,
fuck Benito
.

Scar got to his feet. He wiped the blood off his face with his right bicep. He threw the shank to the floor and brought another weapon.

A set of knuckles.

“Really?” I asked. “Pussy.”

“This pussy is going to fuck you,” Scar said with a grin.

He put his right hand up and walked toward me. He hurried to take a few swings at me. I blocked them. The left punches I didn’t block. He hit in the ribs, then the face, opening me for a right hook. I had to take the punch. I shut my eyes and felt the metal crack against my upper jaw. I spun and hurried to regain myself before Scar could hit me again.

I spun all the way around and hit Scar. He didn’t expect it. I punched at his ribs, remembering how fucked up they looked. Two really solid hits and he was screaming. The third punch and I felt the ribs crack against my hand. I then swept my leg and took him down.

The crowd cheered.

He punched at me, but he didn’t have his full power or strength. Yeah, the knuckles still hurt to smash against my skin and bones, but I managed.

My right fist was like a boulder and I smashed his face a few times before he put his hands out.

Was he quitting?

I got off him, grabbed the knuckles, and threw them into the crowd.

I gave Scar a chance to get back up.

“Now it’s fair,” I said. “Come on.”

We circled each other a few times. He was wobbly, nervous. I was pissed off. I thought about how I wanted to do it. One punch and knock him out? Or a series of punches to rock his world?

Scar threw a right, hitting me in the nose. Then a left, hitting my shoulder. His shoulder moved, telling me he was going for another right. I knocked his hand out of the way and came across with a right of my own. His legs spread wide as he fought for balance.

Now is the time…

I let him have it. A flurry of punches. All the punches I never got to throw because I was in jail. My mind went black and blank, all I could feel was rage. I took Scar to the edge of the crowd. I slid to the left and brought him back to the middle of the floor. I hit him in every direction so he couldn’t fall. The only time he fell was when I knocked him out. I had my sweet spot at the back of his jaw. My middle knuckle on my right hand did it, too.

He crumbled like a stack of empty boxes in a windstorm.

I grabbed the shank off the floor and held it up.

They want murder? That’s what they fucking want?

The crowd cheered louder and louder. They started chanting my name. Just like that, I was famous again. Even for the guys that lost money on me, they knew I was officially back. They knew for the next fight, they were guaranteed to win.

I stepped toward the unconscious body on the floor.

I was really going to do it. I was going to cut Scar’s throat. For no good reason other than because the rage told me to do it.

I dropped to one knee and brought the shank back.

That’s when a gun went off…

~ ~ ~

It was just like before.

Everyone started going crazy, screaming and yelling. All I could picture was the police busting in and coming for me. Attacking me and taking me away again. It would be different though, because of Ashlynn and Jude. I couldn’t lose them.

I charged to the edge of the circle. I barreled through people, knocking them out of the way and down. I was in the room where I had told Ashlynn to stay.

She wasn’t there.

I turned and started to run down a hall.

There was no sign of Benito, Dante, anyone.

At the end of the hall, I turned right. There was a door at the end of the hall. It led outside. I didn’t want to leave without my girl. Fuck,
my girl?
I never had relationships. I never had baggage.

I started to run and heard a groaning noise.

I opened a door and saw Dante on the floor, on his side, holding his stomach.

“Dante!” I yelled.

“He shot me,” Dante said.

“Who did?”

“I don’t know…”

“Oh, fuck,” a voice said behind me.

I turned and Benito stood there, a hand tight around Ashlynn’s wrist.

I lunged at Benito. “Let her the fuck go.”

My shoulder bumped into Benito, sending him stumbling back.

“Someone help me,” Dante said.

“Who shot him?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Benito said. “One guy, one gun, one bullet.”

“One fucking message,” I said. “I’ll carry him out of here.”

“Hurry,” Benito said. “This isn’t good.”

I looked at Ashlynn. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “He needs a doctor.”

“We don’t work in the line of business where you can just go to a doctor,” I said. “Too many questions.”

“He’s going to bleed out,” Benito said. “Oh, Dante… like a son…”

I looked at Dante. He looked like he was fading already.

Like a brother to me…

I crouched down and grabbed Dante by his suit jacket. I stood and lifted Dante up. When I had him over my shoulder, I turned.

“Noah,” Benito said. “If he’s going to go…”

“No,” I growled.

“I’ll do it,” Ashlynn blurted out.

“What?” I asked.

“I was going to go med school. I have… some experience…”

I looked at Benito. “Okay. Let’s move. Now.”

We ran down the hallway, Benito leading the way. I hurried behind him, Ashlynn as my side, Dante over my shoulder, clinging to life.

I grabbed for her hand and held it. She then showed me her left hand.

“I still have your shirt,” she said.

“Told you I’d survive,” I said.

At least for now.

35.

(Ashlynn)

My experience didn’t need to be known. I only had a handful of real medical classes under my belt. Most of it was reading, studying, talking about theory and stuff like that. I had been invited to some advanced classes, including a trip to a morgue to watch a live autopsy. I also had the chance to see some cadaver work.

None of it was the same as a real live person. And not just any person, but a guy connected to Benito and a guy who was close friends to Noah. Oh, and I better not forget about the fact that he was on a long table and I had no to no medical equipment.

With the use of booze and painkillers, I managed to get to work. I wore dishwashing gloves because I had no rubber gloves. I used knives that shouldn’t have touched human skin without the intention of killing. Lucky for Dante, the bullet hadn’t gone deep. The way it looked, it seemed as though maybe Dante’s own gun somehow saved him. If it had been a few inches toward the middle of his gut, he would have been dead.

I plucked the bullet out with a set of long tweezers and then patched him up with first-aid kit. It looked like a fishing tackle box of medical stuff, which didn’t exactly surprise me, considering what both Noah and Benito did for a living. It didn’t make sense that the box didn’t have medical gloves though. Or that Benito didn’t have a doctor on the take.

On the take.

Who the hell am I?

When I finished, Dante was passed out from the painkillers. He was breathing fine and looked fine.

“He could still get infected,” I said. “I can’t promise anything. This is way out of my league.”

“You kept him alive,” Benito said. “Jesus Christ.”

“How do you not have a doctor?” I asked.

Benito opened his jacket and grazed his fingertips over his gun. “What was that?”

I shut my mouth.

Benito then stormed out of the room.

Noah approached me. As he reached for me, I swatted his hand out of the way.

“Hey,” he said.

“No. Is this what my life is going to be with you? This constant bullshit?”

“Stop that.”

“No. Look at this.”

“I see it,” Noah said. “I see it. We have a problem and we’re going to fix it.”

“A problem? Someone shot this guy. Guys broke into my apartment. You broke into my apartment. I can’t…”

“Ashlynn, sweetheart, please,” Noah said. “You’re lucky it was me who came looking for you. I’m saving you right now. I’m going to keep saving you until this is all over.”

“When is that?”

“You know I can’t answer that question.”

“So, what happens now? You just keeping fighting? People keep getting shot? You just beat up anyone who bothers me?”

“Those guys from your work tried to hurt you. And Leah’s mother needed a fucking wakeup call. You think I like doing that shit? I have more targets on my back than ever in my life. Shit. I think I was safer in jail.”

“Yeah? Then go back. Do something stupid, Noah.”

“I know you’re angry and I get that…”

My head and heart raced as I said the next thing that came to mind without thinking about it. “I have a son, Noah.”

I sucked in a breath and squeezed my lips tight together.

“You have a son?” Noah asked. “Yeah, that’s right. You have a son.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said. “I’m freaked out right now.”

“Okay. That’s fine. I’ll make the arrangements so you can get to your son.”

“Noah.”

He backed up. “No. It doesn’t work that way. You’re always going to throw that in my face, aren’t you? Paint me as some asshole who never cared. I tried to find you that night, Ashlynn. I’m sorry for the way everything happened. I thought about you every day I was inside. I was going to find you when I got out… I didn’t expect this…”

“I didn’t mean it to hurt you,” I said. “It just came out that way. That’s how I’m used to saying it, okay? I never knew where you were, who you were, what you were doing.”

“Well, you know where I am now. And who I am. And what I’m doing. You don’t want the bullshit, sweetheart? Then you shouldn’t have fucked and gotten pregnant by a guy like me.”

His words were like venom. He spat them right at my face and my heart. I had nothing to say back so I slapped him. Again. It hurt my hand just as much as the first time I did it. I knew there was a chance that Noah would come at me. Not to hurt me, no, but to hug me. Kiss me. Console me. He was a wild and bad guy, but for me, there was compassion. It freaked me out. I hurried to leave the room, slamming the door behind me.

“Trouble?” a man asked, standing at a bar.

“None of your damn business,” I said.

“Actually it is. You’re Ashlynn, right?”

“And who the hell are you?” I asked.

The man grinned and opened his suit jacket. I figured it was going to be another gun to point at me.

It wasn’t.

It was a police badge.

36.

(Noah)

I have a son.

Damn, she had every right to say that to me. She had every right to throw that in my face any damn time she wanted to. I should have taken it better than I did. But those words hurt me. I wasn’t going to abandon her or Jude. I wanted to be a father to that kid. I wanted to teach him how to throw a baseball and throw a harder right hook.

Ashlynn was just protecting herself and her family. It was all she knew.

It put the pressure on me even more though. To get to the bottom of all this shit. Other crews attacking us. Dante shot. This Craig guy on the run, owing Benito money. And then whoever actually busted into Ashlynn’s apartment, looking for money.

I looked at Dante and I shook my head.

Man, it was just a few years ago we were trying to make a basket at the old school, but we couldn’t reach because we were too young. So we’d throw the basketball at the side of the school and make up games. One time, the grumpy old janitor came out with a bucket of water and yelled at us. I was trying to think of something smart to say and Dante threw the ball at him. Hit the bucket and it spilled all over the guy. It wasn’t the first time someone called me a
little motherfucker
but it was the funniest.

I touched Dante’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you got shot, man. I have no clue what’s going on. This would be one of those times when I’d talk to you, man. But you’re different now. You’re…”

“Noah,” Dante said. His eyes flickered. “Did that woman kill me?”

“Woman?”

“Your girl.”

“No, man, you’re alive. She got the bullet out. You might need some meds though.”

“Tell her I said thanks. Sorry if I was a dick to her.” His eyes opened more. “Sorry I was dick to you, Noah. I shouldn’t have told Benito. I’m just trying to… fuck it. Doesn’t matter.”

“Dante, did you see anything?”

“No. I was standing in the hall on my phone. Someone called my name. I turned and…
boom.
Next thing I knew I was in that office, on the floor. I shut the door, trying to protect myself. Hey, you know, she’s right.”

“What?”

“Your girl. She’s right about the kid. It’s her kid. She carried it and gave birth, man. I know you’re trying, but it’s more than trying.”

“You’re going to give me parenting advice?”

“No. I’m just telling you what I heard. Don’t ruin that shit. Save her. Take care of your baby. I’m so sorry if I caused any trouble.”