Prizefight: The Hell Raiders MC Goes MMA (13 page)

I slid into the driver's seat, once more not saying a word about Stella's smoke. "What was that all about?"

He exhaled a cloud of smoke on a half laugh. "Apparently, Mr. Royse's lovely fiancé missed her cat."

"What?"

"Fucker is completely off his rocker, man. He's calling your girl his fiancé and she's all frantic, shaking her head behind his back. Looked scared out of her wits."

"So, what, he went and got her a feral alley cat?" I didn't know whether to laugh or be furious.

Stella gave a full laugh. "He said she just moved to her new apartment, on the penthouse floor of his building, but it was a big change. Apparently that run-down shit-hole was where she lived before. He made a joke out of her being barely able to feed herself, and still she fed some stray cat on the street."

"He's bringing the cat back to his building?"

"So it seems. Wants her to be comfortable." Stella paused to shake his head and flip ashes out the window. "I have serious doubts about that cat, though. If a human ever bothered to feed it, especially on a regular basis, it shouldn't be so skinny. And the way it acted, no human ever touched it, either."

I sat there for a long moment, absorbing what he said and thinking about it. "You think she found a reason to come back to her place?"

He nodded. "I just can't figure out why. She didn't even get out of the car."

I started the car and pulled out, heading back past Elena's building. Shock almost made me stall the Chevelle when I spotted Royse's antique car sitting there again, in the same spot. But what surprised me more was the sight of Elena on Royse's arm, coming out of the alley. Royse carried the empty cat cage in his other hand, and kept smiling down at her.

Every instinct demanded I stop and grab her away from Royse, rescue her, but I forced myself to drive on by. Going as slow as possible without making the whole damn street suspicious, I watched in the rearview as Royse led her up the steps to the front of the building.

"Hang a left here."

I followed Stella's direction with asking why. All I needed to know was that he had a reason, or he wouldn't have said it.

"Pull over here and wait." He hopped out and strolled back to the corner, where he leaned casually against a wall. He looked directly toward Elena's building, not bothering to stay out of sight.

I slid down in my seat and watched in the side mirror as my Brother hid in plain sight. No matter how much I wanted to yell at him to make sure Royse didn't see him, I knew he was right. The easiest way to make someone suspicious, or make them think they were being watched, was by skulking around and trying not to be seen yourself. So I waited.

Less than ten minutes, and he headed back to the car. "Okay, they left again." He got in. "Let's get out of here for a bit, then come back. We need a less conspicuous ride."

Anxiety rolled my gut all over the place as I drove back to Stella's place. "Tell me again why I shouldn't just turn around, force Royse's car over, and take Elena from him?"

Stella sighed. "Wish it was that simple. She went back to him thinking she could protect you, and to find her mom. If she ain't found what she's looking for yet, she probably wouldn't leave with you."

"I could make her, though." Stubborn desire to do exactly that refused to be silent.

"You could." He nodded. "But if she doesn't know where her mom is yet, how long before she ditches you again and goes back?"

I brought my hand down hard on the steering wheel. As bad as I hated to admit it, the fucker was totally right. "So what do we do?" I pulled into a parking place next to his old beater.

"We go back to her building, see what she did while she was there. Maybe she talked to somebody. Or maybe we can find somebody with more information, at least." He got out, then leaned back in the window, tossing me a set of keys. "Here, move any firepower you have over to my ride. I'm going to grab us a few things, just in case an opportunity comes along."

I didn't keep many weapons in the Chevelle. The thing drew attention from every damn cop that spotted it, and I'd rather not get pulled over with a trunk full of illegal guns and ammo. Still, I had no intention of needing a firearm and not having one. I climbed out and grabbed a few spares from the hidden compartment I'd built under the rear seat.

By the time Stella got back with a heavy looking gym bag, I had climbed in his car and checked over all my weapons. He laughed a little as he got in the driver's seat. "Figured you had some hardware along for the ride."

I shrugged a little. "Yeah, just not much. Rather not have some trooper with an eye for muscle cars pull me over just to admire my wheels, then find a bunch of guns in it."

Stella laughed again. "Yeah, man, that'd be just about your luck." He coaxed his old beater into starting up, and we started back for Elena's place.

We didn't talk during the drive. For one thing, I was too keyed up to bother with conversation. Stella seemed unusually edgy, too. Nothing ever rattled him, but he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove. That by itself told me he wasn't his usual laid-back self.

Royse's car had disappeared when we drove back past Elena's place. I had to push back the feeling of failure and disappointment trying to settle on my shoulders. Allowing Royse to take her somewhere else went against everything my mind said about the situation.

Stella went around the corner and parked in the same space I did earlier. "Let's go see why they came back here."

During the walk to the apartment building, I felt like a kid on the way to the principal's office. Dread filled me at what we might find out. I didn't have to wait long, though. As soon as we started up the steps, the front door opened.

A tall, thin black man, probably about my age, stayed inside. "One o' you happen to be called Stella, get on in here."

Stella and I exchanged a look, then went inside. The guy led the way to a first floor apartment and motioned us inside. It made me nervous as fuck, but I went in, after a pause to make sure my .45 sat easy in the holster and ready. Inside the dimly lit apartment, we stood and waited while the guy checked up the stairwell, then closed the door.

He gestured for us to follow, and led the way into a kitchen that looked like a cross between a chemist's lab and some old granny's kitchen. "Which one o' you be called Stella?"

"That's me. You mind explaining how you know my name?" The scowl on Stella's face should have scared the guy to death. Seemed like Stella might have lost his touch.

The man grinned with a flash of gold teeth. "Got my ways. Ya'll know my girl, Elena?"

Holding back my growl of frustration sent my stomach rolling again. "Yeah, we do, and you got about three seconds to start talking."

"I gotta make sure ya'll the right ones before I can say anything." Bastard sounded stubborn as a mule.

The growl got away from me. "Look, man, she's in big trouble, and her mom is, too. Royse is dangerous as fuck. We ain't got time for this bullshit."

"I'm Juaquin, and I kep' an eye out for her last couple years. She looked good when she was here earlier, all dressed up and ridin' in a sharp car. How I know you ain't the trouble lookin' for her?" The guy's glare cut from me to Stella and back again.

The deep breath I took did absolutely no good. I explained as quickly as I could. "If you know something that could help her, we need to know now."

Juaquin nodded. "A'ight, I guess. Man scared the fuck out o' one o' my runners, back there prowlin' in the alley for a damn cat. After he caught it, they left in his fancy car, but came back a few minutes after and let the cat go. Came as a real shock to me when she came up lookin' so different." He repeated the conversation he'd had with Elena.

Stella listened carefully. "Well, at least we know she's okay and he ain't turning her out right now. And we know he didn't kill her mom."

"True, but that don't mean I have to like it." My jaw clenched until I thought my molars would crack under the pressure. "And we're no closer to getting her back."

Juaquin went to the stove and pulled something from the oven. "Ya'll want some stuffed peppers? I got plenty."

My stomach rumbled loudly. "Thanks, man, but we don't have the time."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. I got more to tell you, though, but you don't seem interested. Your loss." Within a couple minutes, he had found a plate and started piling it high.

Stella grabbed himself a plate and followed suit, leaving me no choice but to do the same. "What else you got?"

"You ever see the inside of Royse's building?" Juaquin went to the living room and dropped into a chair, gesturing for us to do the same.

I shook my head. "No, never been in it. Why?" Flavor exploded across my tongue with the first bite, reminding me stuffed peppers were definitely not on my food list. Fuck the damn food and training for the moment. I could get back on track when I had my woman back. This time, I didn't even resist the thought. I could work that shit out later, too.

"I'm a business man. I make a habit of keeping tabs on my competition. Shorty down at the courthouse got me copies of the floor plans for the renovation." Juaquin paused for another bite. "Anyways, if you plan on taking that fucker down, I want in."

That statement put me on edge. "Why would we let you in? We don't know you from fucking Adam."

"You got any other way of getting' a look inside that building without walking through the door?"

He had a point. Information about Royse's building would help. "Why you want in? Wouldn't it make more sense for you to lay low and not let him notice you? Then when he's gone, just move in and take over his territory?"

He nodded around another bite. "I was fine with that until a few days ago. Fucker killed my lookout, who also happened to be my cousin. I want a piece of Royse's hide."

I glanced at Stella. His almost imperceptible nod showed his agreement. We needed the damn floor plans that bad. "Okay, but you remember this is our operation. You do exactly as we say, when we say it. Understood?" Fuck, I hated bringing in somebody we didn't know. No way around it this time, though. I would just keep a close eye on him, and blow a hole through his skull at the first sign of a double-cross.

Juaquin shrugged. "Fine with me." He worked his way through the rest of the food on his plate.

Being led down to my mom's room for lunch creeped me out. Mr. Green was as nice as the other people who worked for Royse seemed to be, but the whole thing just seemed weird, on an epic level. I knew better than object or say what I thought, though. People around Royse who did that ended up beat half to death, or just dead. I'd both seen, and heard, it too many times to count. Keeping my mouth shut seemed like the best option.

Praying wasn't my thing, but I offered up a few words to ask that Ryker and Stella got my message through Juaquin. If they didn't bother, I was fucked. Nobody would rescue me, and I would have to live with whatever kind of crazy Royse planned. That thought made my stomach burn, a feeling I was getting used to lately.

Mr. Green opened mom's door for me, and I tapped at the door before I went in. "Hi, Mom, how're you feeling?"

She looked up from where she sat in the big plush recliner. "Hi, sweetie. I'm glad you came." A smile curved her lips, but didn't reach her eyes.

I ignored warning bells going off in my head. "I thought I'd have lunch with you, if that's okay."

She nodded. "It'll be here in a few minutes. I asked them to hold it for a half hour so we could talk."

My eyebrow went up. "That sounds serious."

"Well, it is." She straightened the throw covering her legs. "Mr. Royse came in a while ago."

"Oh? And what did he want?" My pulse raced. Why the hell did my mom want to talk about Royse?

Her graying hair curled over her shoulder as she shook her head. "He stops in to check on me every day. He was very upset today." One hand came up as if to silence me. "Why in the world did you tell him you had a cat?"

Anger raced through me, and my face went red-hot. "What?" I took a breath. "Mom, what would you know about a cat? You were always asleep or just zoned out, or whatever. You barely noticed if I was even there. So, yeah, I had a cat. At least I could talk to him sometimes and know he heard." Wherever all that bitterness and anger came from, there was still plenty more, but I managed to plug the leak. And part of me couldn't help wishing I really
did
have that fictional pet. Someone would have known I was alive, anyway, and cared, even if only that I came with the food on time.

Her brows went down in a frown. "Don't talk to me like that, young lady."

I took a deep breath and tried to keep a handle on my temper. "I'm not being disrespectful, Mom. Just stating a fact."

Her face flushed, and my mind went back to my childhood, bringing back details I had chosen to ignore the last several years. She pointed at me. "You listen. I nearly worked myself to death trying to take care of you. I won't have you speak that way. And to be so mean to Mr. Royse? What happened to the girl I raised?"

I couldn't help it. The bitter laugh escaped and my self-control snapped. "Mean? The girl you raised? I don't know, Mom. I haven't seen that girl in so long I don't even remember her. What I do remember is having to beg strangers for help. And when that failed, I remember your kind Mr. Royse raping me, then turning my ass out. That's how we had a roof over our heads, even if it was a shitty one, and food in our bellies." I stood up. "I've lost my appetite."

Mr. Green had left the door unlocked when he left, so I slammed through it and practically ran down the hall and back up to the lobby. When I got to the elevator, I realized I wasn't sure how to make it work. Rather than wait around, though, I turned the dial and hoped for the best.

Back inside my suite, I sat on the fancy sofa and seethed with fury. What had that been about? Angry tears rolled down my cheeks as I replayed my mother's words. It occurred to me Royse had decided to use her as a weapon. Instead of threatening to not help her, he could easily still be the good guy if he convinced her I was ungrateful or disrespectful.

A soft knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. "Miss? Are you okay?"

I hurried to wipe the tears away and stood to face Mr. Green. "I'm fine. I'm sorry, you weren't anywhere in sight, and I was in a hurry, so I just came back up on my own." The smile I gave him was shaky, but it was the best I could manage right then.

"Apologies, Miss. Next time, I'll wait outside the door for you."

"No need. I'm sure it won't happen again."

He nodded and left, closing the door softly behind him.

I sat for a minute, trying to calm myself a little, but with no luck. I was glad my mom had less pain now, but I couldn't forgive her for what our survival cost me. How could she act as if none of that mattered? Tears stung my eyes and no matter how hard I blinked, they refused to stop. A sudden sob gripped my chest, and I slipped to the floor and gave in. Time meant nothing while I cried my heart out, grieving for what should have been.

"Miss? Are you okay? I knocked, but you didn't answer." Mr. Green came close. "Miss?"

I tried to wipe my tears and get control of myself, but the harder I tried, the harder I cried. A gentle hand touched my shoulder, and like an idiot, I practically climbed up the poor man so I could cry all over his nice suit.

After a minute, he wrapped his thin arms around me and made soothing noises, and held me for the longest time, until I wore myself out. "I'm so sorry." The crying had faded to hiccups, and shame set in. "I've ruined your jacket."

"Don't worry about it, Miss. My wife and daughter have done the same, more than a few times." He gave a soft chuckle. "Something you want to talk about?"

Yes, I did, but I couldn't say too much. I shook my head. "Just my mom. I gave up everything to take care of us while she was sick, and now she acts like it was nothing."

He was quiet for a minute. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." I braced myself, fearing what he might ask.

"You don't want to be here, do you?"

Startled, I looked up into kind blue eyes. "No, I don't. But Royse brought my mom here, took care of her, made her better. I don't have a choice. And now, after everything he did to me, he acts like I'm his girlfriend."

Mr. Green nodded. "I thought as much." He looked around, as if worried someone might hear. "You have someone else?"

Did I? It hit me all of a sudden. I wanted way more from Ryker than a rescue. I wanted a future with him. "Yeah, I do. He tried to help me get away, but I came back because of my mom. He probably doesn't want anything to do with me now."

Another knowing nod. "He drives a black sports car?"

My heart bruised my ribs. "Yeah." How could he know?

"He was watching the building. Be ready when he comes back."

"What?" My mind raced.

He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Be ready. He'll come for you. I'll help however I possibly can."

The tears threatened to come again. "I… I can't leave. My mom—"

"Will be fine. If he can't use her for leverage, he'll order her killed. But don't worry, none of us here would kill a defenseless sick woman. We'll make sure she gets out." His words refused to sink in.

My head spun. Could any of this be possible? Or just a trap? "But I've seen what happens when he orders somebody punished. His men like it."

He nodded again. "They don't work here. They're involved with his illegal businesses. The rest of us aren't like that. They come and go here, because he has various offices in the building, but usually, it's just the staff—a chef and kitchen help, housekeeping, and an attendant for each floor."

All of this seemed so strange, completely at odds to what I knew about Royse. "So, I could just leave?"

"Oh, no, it isn't that simple. The security man, the one who usually is in the lobby, won't let you just leave."

My heart sank a little with disappointment. I nodded. "I understand."

"Good. Now, since you missed lunch with your mother, I brought you a tray. You should eat, and keep your strength up." He patted my shoulder and left with hardly a sound.

I decided to take his advice, and found the tray on the small table in the entry. I brought it into the room I'd come to think of the as the living room, to an oval table with four chairs by the windows. When I took the cover off the tray, I just stared for a minute, stunned. Instead of the sandwich I sort of expected, a grilled chicken breast sat atop what looked like rice. Little green balls, which I suspected were Brussels sprouts, lay to one side on the plate. A small bowl held a fresh salad, and another plate was covered with fancy crackers with thin slices of cheese and meat.

There was enough food on that tray to last me a week. I took a couple of bites of everything but the Brussels sprouts. Those things just didn't look as if they were meant to be eaten. It all tasted delicious, but there was no way I could eat it all. I put the cover back on the tray, unsure what I should do with it.

Exhaustion won out, and I left the tray where it was, and went to the soft bed in the bedroom. Someone had been in while I was out with Royse, and made the bed even though I left the blankets straightened when I got up. I felt guilty for undoing the work by pulling the blankets back, but tiredness forced the issue.

Sleep took over as soon as my cheek touched the pillow. Screwed up dreams made me toss and turn while Royse and his henchmen chased me through my sleep. I woke breathing hard and calling out for Ryker.