Hurt: A Bad Boy MMA Romantic Suspense Novel (3 page)

“Now what’s my prize?” I asked.

“Take a shower,” Jack said. “Benito said you could have either a steak or a blowjob.”

“Benito?”

“My wife is a cousin-in-law.”

“Christ,” I whispered.

“So what do you want?”

“Where’s the steak from?” I asked.

“Benito’s restaurant.”

“Damn. That’s good. What about the blowjob?”

“He sent someone to visit. I can arrange a private visit and turn the cameras off.”

I thought about. I looked back at Hank. He still hadn’t moved.

I checked my knuckles and plucked a piece of tooth from one of them.

“Tell you what,” I said with a grin, “Benito knows how I do things. I don’t make choices.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Jack asked.

I kept the grin.
“I’ll have both… food and pussy…”

~ ~ ~

The steak was better. Maybe it was because I had been eating shit food for so long, but I still had my hand to take care of other business.

When I return to my cell, Bo was there.

“Oh, man, bro,” Bo said with his arms open. “I thought you were dead.”

“Not yet,” I said.

Bo looked at my face. “What the fuck…”

“Business,” I said. “Don’t ask. I brought you something.”

“What?”

I had cut a decent chunk of the massive steak and saved it for Bo. The son of a bitch started to tear up when I gave it to him. I never met a man so thankful for nothing when everything had been stolen from him. Talk about a lesson in humility.

While Bo devoured the meat, I stood at the front of the cell, gripping the bars tight. My knuckles were still bleeding. They were swollen and painful.

At least Benito hadn’t forgotten about me.

I stood for what felt like hours, replaying everything in my head. The right, the wrong, the good, the bad. I demanded myself to come up with a plan for when I got out. To keep my head straight while I was inside.

Truthfully, I had nothing to offer. I’d just go after Benito and see where I could help out. It’s all I knew. To fight, earn, track, and keep everyone happy.

Jack wandered down the hall, whistling. He walked right to my cell and stopped.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“How’d it all go?” Jack asked.

“I’m back here, so it doesn’t fucking matter.”

“Let’s do something about that.”

Jack then opened the cell. I offered him my hands, not wanting someone else to show up and shoot Bo again.

Jack shook his head. “No, Noah. You don’t need to do that.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re free to go.”

7.

(Ashlynn)

I was let go… for the night. Ricky chalked it up to wicked stress at home. Which was true. My life outside the restaurant was nothing but a chaotic mess that I couldn’t figure out. I got to keep my earnings for the night and I was told to come back in a few days. Ricky begged me to clear my head and try to relax a little.

Easy to do when you’re a single mother to a newborn…

When I got home, Leah was on the couch with an unlit cigarette hanging from her lips. I ran after her and tore it from her mouth.

“In the apartment? With the baby?”

“I open the window,” she said in a shaky voice.

“You’ve done this before?”

Leah nodded.

I felt my hands curl up. If Leah wasn’t sixteen I would have slapped her across the face. I pointed down the hallway, knowing there was a very slim chance any cigarette smoke could possibly get to Jude’s room.
Or my mother’s.

“I have a three month old son in there,” I said. “And my mother is dying of cancer. And you want to smoke?”

“You’re not my mother,” Leah said.

“Go home, Leah. Right now. Just get out of here.”

Leah slowly stood, grabbing her phone and her purse. She looked at me and her face dropped.

“What?” I asked.

“I don’t want to go home tonight, Ashlynn.”

“Why?”

“My mother has a date with that guy again. The one who looks at me funny.”

“Looks at you funny how?”

“He looks at me… like my boyfriend does,” Leah said. “Except this guy is older and it’s scary. Last time he passed me in the hallway and he…”

I sighed. “Shit. Sit down, Leah. Give me the cigarettes. They’re going in the trash.”

“Can I at least charge my cell phone?”

“Yeah. Sure. You can stay the night if you want. Pillows and blankets are in the linen closet. If you stay please make sure someone knows. I don’t need the police coming after me.”

Leah nodded. “Thank you, Ashlynn. Hey, why are you home so early?”

I swallowed hard. “Someone touched me. I hit him.”

“Whoa. You really hit a guy?”

“Listen to me,” I said, all of a sudden feeling the protective motherly instinct flow through me. “Never let someone push you around, Leah. Never let someone touch you. And if your mother doesn’t listen to you, I will. I can help you.”

I saw the tears fill up Leah’s eyes. I stepped toward the couch and she put her hand out. “It’s okay. I’m just going to relax.”

I let Leah be, feeling sorry for her. It wasn't easy to grow up in a dysfunctional family. I knew what it was like. The sad part was that the dysfunctional family followed me into adulthood. I worked hard for everything in life and I was in a crappy apartment with a sick mother and a baby.

I went into the bathroom first and washed my hands and face. I still smelled of whatever fruity drink that asshole had been drinking. I needed a damn shower. Really bad. So I left the bathroom and opened Jude’s room to check on him. Stars and spaceships reflected on the wall from the nightlight next to his crib. The room smelled of diapers and powder, a soft, soothing scent, nothing but pure innocence. I looked to the crib and saw the small mound that was my son resting.

As I backed up, I shut the door slowly, making sure not to make a sound.

I grabbed a change of clothes and went back to the bathroom.

I stripped down and tossed the bikini bottom and top with the hoodie and pants. I let the water run and warm up and I stood in front of the mirror and stared at my own body. My breasts were full and very tender. Yeah, maybe some guys thought it was sexy or something, but to me it was far from it. I cupped my breasts and lifted, sighing with a small sense of relief. My right hand closed around my breast and squeezed. I shut my eyes for a second, trying to think about the last time someone touched me. Truthfully… the last person to touch my breast was a nurse in the hospital, teaching me how to get Jude to latch on. Before that?

The night of the fight. That night in the bathroom. The night I got pregnant.

The way
he
held me, tossed me up on the sink. The way
he
attacked me with a visceral lust and yet
he
didn’t hurt me at all.
He
took complete control.

My fingers grazed across my nipple and I shuddered. I grabbed the edge of the sink and thought about doing something to myself. Taking a few minutes for me. Nothing wrong with that, right? I was already naked. The steam filled up the bathroom. All I could picture though was
his
body. Muscles on top of muscles, built from use, not from being a gym rat. A man who fought for everything, literally.

I groaned and then felt something on my hand. I opened my eyes and looked down. My hand was still touching my breast. But I had
leaked
a little. The liquid on my fingers made me sigh, reminding me that my body was still in total mother mode. The most important thing I could do was be a mother to Jude. My needs came second or even lower when I looked at the rest of my life.

That was okay. I loved Jude with all my heart.

The mirror had fogged up, which was good. I didn’t need to see my reflection anymore.

I showered, dressed, and walked into Jude’s room to find Leah standing in the middle of the room, holding my son.

She looked at me and smiled. “He started whining right after you got in the shower. I think he knows you’re home.”

I took the baby and Leah thanked me again for letting her stay.

Sure, what was one more person to take care of?

I rocked Jude for a minute and then sat down. He was nestled against me so perfectly. His eyes fluttered and opened. When he saw me, he gave a half smile. It was the damn cutest thing I’d ever seen. I wasn’t sure if he meant to do it or it was just his body doing it. He only did it when he saw me.

I’d seen that same smile before though.

His father… that one night…

Jude’s eyes were a crystal blue color, with darker shades of blue spotted across his irises. Again, I’d seen those eyes before.

Of all the things that could happen, the healthy baby boy was a spiting image of his father. A constant reminder of what I did.

I touched Jude’s head and started to run my fingers down the narrow bridge of his tiny nose. Five strokes and he was fast asleep again.

I held my son for what could have been another four hours. Time seemed to sometimes stop with Jude. That was his gift to me, something he’d never truly understand until he was grown with a family of his own. Unless, of course, he was like his father.

Screw ‘em and leave ‘em.

I blushed in the silence of my own thoughts. What had I done to reach out to Noah? Nothing. What business did I have reaching out to him? A lot. But did I want it? Did I want some kind of underground, bad boy, fighter in my son’s life? How would that work? The night I met Noah, the police showed up. I had to run out of the back door of the abandoned building and dive into the backseat of a car. I didn’t even know who was driving the car, I just went with the flow of things.

It was a craziest night of my life.

But did I really need that madness in my life?

I stood and gently put Jude back in his crib. He’d sleep until morning. He was a great baby like that.

I left the room and let out a long sigh.

A calm feeling washed through my body.

I liked it. It didn’t happen all that much.

I crossed the hall and opened the door to my mother’s bedroom. With any luck, she’d be sleeping too and I might actually get a full night’s sleep.

No such luck.

I opened the door and found my mother face down on the floor…

8.

(Noah)

The first beer tasted great. The second was even better. The whiskey burned like it used to do. I turned the shot glass over and put it on the bar. I dug in my pocket for some cash - the cash I had when they took me inside.

The bartender put a hand to the bar and shook his head. “No, man. You’re clear. You drink for free.”

“Thanks,” I said.

The bartender got me another beer.

I turned and looked around the bar. Full of life. Full of freedom. I felt different though. My mind, my body, it wasn’t used to all this yet. I had always thought about the moment they’d let me go. When I’d get my clothes back. When I’d step out of those doors and just walked away, free. I thought I’d cheer, scream, throw the finger to the building.

You know what I did?

I choked up.

Because guys like Bo were still inside. Good men. I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to Bo either.

“Noah?”

I turned and Benito’s right hand man, Dante, stood there. He was in a fancy suit, a gold watch on his wrist. He had scars on the left side of his face from a fight gone bad. He and I had stood side by side many times, going into the circle, fighting for our lives and a way to earn.

“Holy shit,” I said. “You? In a suit?”

“I got promoted,” Dante said.

“I see that, man.”

“I see you survived.”

“In one piece,” I said.

“Come on,” Dante said. “Benito is waiting for you.”

I walked with Dante. “What happened to you?”

“The financial impact was hard at first,” Dante said. “I found a different way to help with Benito and his family. I also did a little research and it turns out my great-great-great-great-something came from the old country. Same village as Benito’s old man. Fucking perfect.”

“So you’re in,” I said.

Dante looked at me and grinned. “I’m in. My mother wasn’t an Irish whore like yours.”

“Hey,” I said. “Watch your tongue. My
Ma
was a saint. She put up with a lot.”

Dante put a hand to my shoulder. “I know, brother. I just wish… you and me…”

“I’m good at what I do, Dante. And you don’t look all that bad in a suit.”

Dante stopped at a door and grabbed the knob. He knocked with his other hand and then opened the door. He nodded for me to go inside. I grabbed the side of his face and pinched his pudgy cheek.

I entered the office and Dante shut the door. When I looked to my right, I saw Benito with his back to me. He was a short man, but possessed a shit ton of power and presence. I hadn’t seen him since before the fight. A long goddamn year and so many months. He didn’t come when I got arrested. He didn’t come to the trial. He didn’t come to visit. All of which I understood. He needed to clear his name and image.

“Benito?” I asked.

He turned, just slightly, and I saw the woman in front of him. On her knees. Her hands at his legs.
Taking care of him with her mouth.

“Oh, shit,” I said. “Sorry.”

I backed up and put my hands up.

“No,” Benito said. “Don’t fucking move.”

With that said, Benito took out a gun and pointed it at me.

~ ~ ~

With a few growls, Benito finished up. He grabbed the woman’s hair and pulled her away. He tucked himself away and helped the woman to her feet, all the while never taking the gun off me.

“You need one?” he asked me.

I looked at the woman. Her lipstick was smeared on her face. I thought about where her mouth had just been and what she had just swallowed.

“No thanks,” I said.

“You have to be backed up there,” Benito said. “Being in there that long. Pussy once in a while.”

The woman approached and I declined again. “Not right now.”

The woman froze.

“Hey!” Benito yelled. “Felice! Get the fuck out of here!”