Steel: (#5 The Beat and the Pulse) (8 page)

I
’d been
home for two days, and I was already wasting away.

I couldn’t even go to the gym to burn off some steam, and I was chomping at the bit for some kind of action. With no place to go and no one to report to, I had an excess of time…and energy. Two things I didn’t want to have at the same time.

There was little I could do considering my residual tenderness post-hospital. I’d done some cardio, but it all felt pointless while my ribs were still aching, and I didn’t even want to get started on my arm. I’d been relegated to shoving it into a plastic bag while I showered for at least the next three to four weeks.

So when I found myself getting in the car and driving to The Underground, I wasn’t surprised. I couldn’t fight, but I could at least watch and soak up the violent atmosphere.

As per its usual form, the place was pumping. The bookies were shouting over the din, calling out the odds for the fights that were lined up for the night. The bar was packed five deep as the liquor flowed in a nonstop carousel of debauchery.

Sitting in a quiet place on the bleachers that surrounded the focal point of the warehouse, the cage, I watched as two of the more popular fighters—Goblin and Blade—danced around each other. The spotlight was on them, the crowd was bunched around the chain-link screaming for blood…just a typical night in this place. Life had gone on without me, but I’d never been up there in the ranks to warrant any extra attention. I was a mid-lister. Forgettable unless I was winning or failing spectacularly, and
fuck
, had I failed.

“Steel.”

Glancing up, I caught sight of Max, the head honcho of The Underground, leaning up against the side of the bleachers, staring at me like I was a moron.

I raised an eyebrow, not liking the fact he’d sought me out at all.

Pushing off the edge, he came and sat next to me. “When I heard you were out here, I just had to come and see for myself and lo and behold.” He spread his arms wide.

“So?” I asked, cradling my broken arm in my lap.

“So? Last time I saw your ugly mug, it was beaten to a pulp.”

I glared at him out the corner of my eye. “And I got over it.”

Max snorted. “Guys who get beaten like you don’t come back. The last guy Maverick put down is still eating through a straw and pissing through one, too.”

“Well, I guess I got lucky,” I drawled, casting my gaze over the cage where another fight was getting ready to start.

“More than lucky if you ask me. Even stupider coming back here.” He looked me up and down. “You’re fucked in the head, you know that?”

I shrugged. “Don’t know any other way to be.”

“Death wish is what you’ve got.”

I caught the undercurrent in his statement loud and clear, but fucked if I was going to let him shove me around like a pathetic nobody. He thought I was coming here for a slow burn kind of revenge? I’d come here because I was bored and had no place else to go and rot, but the fact that he’d sought me out to lay the hard word on me through cryptic jabs at my mental well-being was just bullshit. He could go fuck himself. Fuck the ramifications.

“Last thing I remember was Maverick punching me in the face,” I said slowly, not bothering to look at the son of a bitch. “Then I wake up in hospital, can’t feel my fucking legs, and some doctor tells me I was left out on the street. No hello, no nothing.” I glanced at Max, but his expression was closed. “What am I meant to make of that?”

“You’re not dead,” he replied stonily. “And looks like you can walk just fine to me.”

“Better stay that way,” I muttered.

Max rose to his feet and brushed off his jeans. Watching the crowd mill about, he smiled to himself before glancing down at me. “I’d be real careful about what you do next, Steel.
Real careful
.”

That was a threat if I ever heard one.

I wasn’t stupid enough to assume the horror stories about this place weren’t true. Guys died in the cage. They were crippled, and they got brain damage. No regulations, minimal medical assistance on site, and no rules. It was a hotbed of violence. Everyone knew it, and things weren’t sugarcoated when I signed up. I knew the risks so it was on me if I got myself hurt.

Charlie had said to keep my mouth shut if I wanted to keep on breathing, and from the way Max had just verbally smacked me down in ten words or less had solidified the notion. Charlie was a cop, so she’d know.

I watched his back as he thumped down the bleachers and dissolved into the crowd like the demon he was. I’d been sitting here oblivious to everything around me, but now that my attention had been brought to the whispers, I felt eyes on me. Vicious, gossiping, threatening 
eyes
.

What was I doing here?

Overly conscious about my aching jaw, ribs, and the stupid cast on my arm, I rose to my feet, my expression pure darkness. Assholes. Who needed them.

Jumping off the edge of the stands, I elbowed my way through the throng of people, not giving a shit who I pissed off. I heard a few choice words as I strode from the warehouse. Once I felt the cool night air on my skin, I let out the tension across my shoulders.

Thieves, bastards, thugs, criminals, low life scum of the earth. How could I think I ever belonged here? After everything, The Underground felt like the place I deserved to be—not that I wanted it, but that was beside the point. People like me belonged in places like that. Didn’t they?

Taking a deep breath, I listened to the muffled sound of the crowd inside and stared up at the sky. The stars shone through the light pollution of the city—but only just—and I found myself thinking about Sparks. What would she make of all this? It’d probably scar her for life, and it was just another reason we weren’t made for one another. Maybe it was a good thing she hadn’t called.

Leaning against the wall, I narrowed my eyes as a group of young men walked past me. They glanced between themselves before sizing me up.

“That’s that Steel guy,” I heard one of them mutter.

“The dude who got his ass beat?”

Rolling my eyes, I turned away from them as they disappeared into the warehouse. Maybe I was a fucking idiot for coming back here. I’d been so desperate to prove myself, to get a little bit of money and respect, but all I got was my ass beat into hospital. What was I meant to do when I wasn’t even able to fit in at The Underground?

Still as fucking lost as ever. 
Don’t you move, boy.

My phone began to ring in my pocket, vibrating against my leg, and I jumped, my heart hammering in my chest. I was almost expecting a gunshot to split the air, but it was the stupid default tone on my iPhone.

Yanking it free, I glanced at the screen. I didn’t recognize the number, and my first thought was
Sparks
. I hoped it was her because when I slowed the fuck down and thought about it over the last two weeks, her face was the only one I’d hoped to see just as much as my Mum’s…and that was saying something considering the state I’d been in.

Pressing the green button on the screen, I slid the phone against my ear and said, “Yeah?”

“Josh?”

I straightened up at the sound of her voice. “Sparks?”

“Yeah.” She paused on the other end, and there was silence.

“You okay?” I asked once I got my head back on straight.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, but there was still a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

“How’s things?”

“Good…”

I smiled and shook my head. For a big-time doctor, she sure beat around the bush like a shy little girl.

“Why’d you call, Sparks?” I asked.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “I’m not good at this.”

“What? Talking on the phone?”

“No. Non-doctor stuff.”

“Well, I ain’t judging. Spit it out, Sparks.”

“I’ve got the next few days off,” she said with a sigh. “I worked too many straight, and they told me to go home for a while.”

Leaning against the wall again, I asked, “Yeah? Sounds about right. You were always hanging around while I was there.”

“I was thinking,” she began, but there was a pause like she still was second-guessing herself.

“
You were thinking
…” I prodded, a smile curling my lips.

“Do you want to get together?” she asked, her words running into one another. “If you’re not busy, that is.”

I laughed, my earlier run-in with Max fading into the background. “I’m not busy, believe me.”

“Yeah?” She sounded hopeful, and I wondered why she cared so much.

“Just tell me when and where, and consider it done.”

“Tomorrow night?” she asked, the tone in her voice picking up. “Dinner maybe?”

I could just imagine dinner being at a fancy restaurant that served tiny portions of handcrafted art, so I said, “Leave it with me, Sparks. I’ll take care of you.”

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. “Should I be worried?”

“Nup,” I replied with a smile. “Just hold on tight.”

“Then how come I don’t believe you, Josh Caplin?”

“So suspicious for a little firecracker.” I laughed and pushed off the wall. “Time to let go a little and live,
Holly Walsh
. Wear sensible shoes.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, the sound amplified through the phone.

“Tomorrow,” she murmured.

“
Tomorrow
,” I said forcefully. “Good night, Sparks.”

“Good night…”

I disconnected the call and dropped my phone back into my jeans pocket. Sparks wanted to see me after all. I hoped it was for the right reasons because I really needed something to go my way for a fucking change.

If she was into me, it was going to be because of
me
, not some mythical version she thought she wanted. Thinking about the sorry state of my life, I wasn’t sure she needed to know about certain things. Those could stay in the past where they belonged.

Sparks better hold on because I was going to take her for one hell of a ride.

W
hen Josh told
me to meet him at seven sharp by the Information Kiosk at Federation Square in the city, I had no idea what he’d planned.

I’d spent hours agonizing over what to wear, especially what looked good with ‘sensible shoes’. In the end, I’d settled on a loose tunic shirt made from back chiffon that hung on my lean frame just right, a pair of skinny jeans, and some black lace-up boots that had zero heel. Sensible yet stylish.

I wasn’t even going to linger on the fact that I had spent twice as long shopping for fancy lingerie, and then, when I got home, trying on the five different sets I’d bought when I couldn’t decide. Not that I thought sex was a sure bet, but I could hope, right? It didn’t hurt to be prepared.

I left my hair out but took the time to straighten it, and against my dark outfit, it looked more coppery than usual. Then I topped it all off with a spritz of perfume and a little bit of color on my lips.

Watching the electronic billboard that sat over the pub across the street as it flicked through different advertisements, I let the sounds of the city wash over me. The hum of thousands of people as they surged from the train station opposite, the muffled sound of arrivals and departures from the platform, the rumble of trams as they rolled across their tracks, and the ding of their bells as they came into the stop in front of me. The distant wail of a siren and the thump of music from the bar behind me in Federation Square topped it all off like a cherry. It was a side of Melbourne I hadn’t had time to see outside of life at the hospital. I had no idea any of this was here, and the thought of exploring it with Josh made my skin tingle with anticipation.

“Sparks.”

Turning at the sound of Josh’s voice, I found him behind me just as tall and handsome as I had remembered, and my heart began to flutter. I’d gotten used to seeing him in his hospital gown, and it had hardly registered the other day when he had sat with me outside the ER that he was in his ordinary clothes. Now, he wore a dark gray shirt with the top few buttons undone, so I had a nice view of his smooth chest. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off his muscled arms and the white plaster cast that was still on his right. Black washed-out jeans and artfully scuffed up boots completed his ensemble. Simple but sexy as fuck.

“I see you heeded the warning,” he murmured, standing close.

“What?” I asked, my head spinning.

His lip curled into a sexy smile. “
Sensible shoes
.”

I felt my cheeks heat, and I glanced away, suddenly feeling like a sixteen-year-old version of myself on a first date.
I was thirty for fucks sake
.

His gaze traveled the length of my body and back up again, making me squirm even more. Raising his left hand, he picked up a strand of my hair and smiled. “You look beautiful.”

Three simple words, but they had the desired effect.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t know,” I replied. “My stomach is churning.”

He laughed and threaded his fingers through mine, giving me a tug forward. “I know a little place down by the water,” he said.

My skin tingled as he tightened his grip. “Sounds good. Let’s go, then.”

Josh led me through Federation Square and down some stairs that led to a hidden path. It followed the length of the Yarra River, which flowed through the center of the city, carving a serene passage below the bustling streets above. Turning back toward the city, I was surprised to see a bar tucked underneath the very place I’d been waiting earlier. It looked like it was some kind of vault, the bluestone facade reminding me of a warehouse or a Victorian era wine cellar. It was tiny, so there were benches and tables out on the foreshore, the sounds of the city rumbling above us.

“Drink?” Josh asked as we stood by the bar that had service through the window as well as inside.

“Please. Beer.”

“Beer?” he asked, his eyebrows rising. “I thought you’d like a martini.”

Slapping him on the arm, I scolded him, “
Smartass.
”

Laughing, he handed me a menu. “Pick whatever you like. My shout.”

“I don’t mind paying,” I said, scanning the menu. It was simple food like burgers and potato wedges with a few fun sides thrown in to spice things up.

“Don’t emasculate me, Sparks.”

Elbowing him, I returned my attention to the menu. “I want the mac and cheese croquettes.”

“Mac and cheese?” he asked, seeming surprised at my choice yet again.

I shrugged. “It comes with baconaise.” His eyebrows rose. “Bacon meets mayonnaise. Seems like a match made in heaven if you ask me.”

“Fair enough, Sparks,” he replied with a shake of his head and turned to order.

We sat at a table right on the edge of the bar, looking out over the river as boats cruised past. Eating our food in silence didn’t feel awkward at all, and I thought that was a good indicator of compatibility with someone. The ability to just
be
with another person and not have the inclination to fill the void with inane words. What was it called? Companionable silence.

“How were the mac and cheese balls?” Josh asked, lifting his glass of beer to his lips.

“Croquettes,” I corrected him. “And they were brilliant. Very cheesy.”

He smiled, his eyes sparkling in the warm half-light from the bar behind him.

“How have you been?” I went on. “Your ribs not bothering you?”

“Nup. They ache some but nothing major. The arm pisses me off the most.”

I frowned, my gaze dropping to the cast on his arm. “You’ve got pain?”

“Holly,” he said. “Turn the doctor off for tonight.”

My actual name on his lips sounded alien, and I blinked hard. I’d gotten used to him calling me Sparks, and I didn’t realize how much I liked it.

“But if it hurts, it might not be mending correctly and—”

“It doesn’t hurt,” he interrupted. “Tonight is about you and me. Let go of all that shit, Sparks. Just focus on now.”

I cocked my head to the side, my fingers curling around my glass.
Tonight was about me and him. Now. This moment.
 It seemed like a simple enough thing to do, but my brain was hardwired to doctor mode.
Stop making excuses, Holly
.

Picking up my beer, I downed the rest of it and slammed the glass back down on the tabletop. “I’m ready.”

Josh began to laugh and shook his head. “Then I think we’re ready for phase two.”

“Which is?”

He smiled and picked up his beer to finish it off. Then he stood and pulled me to my feet, wrapping his left arm around my waist. “Come with me, Sparks.”

We ventured back the way we came, through Federation Square and down Swanson Street, weaving our way through the mass of people out and about. He held me close, my body fitting snugly against his side, and I could feel the ripple of hard muscle underneath his shirt.
Damn
.

There were still so many questions I wanted to ask him, but like he’d said, tonight was just about now. This moment. Those other things would come later…or they wouldn’t.

Josh was guiding me through a door, the bouncer standing out on the footpath giving us the once over.

“What’s this?” I asked, staring up at the sign over the door.

“The Hi-Fi Bar,” he said as we descended the stairs down into the bowels of the building.

“We’re seeing a band?” I asked, my gaze following the people who were going out for a smoke. They looked like alternative rockers with their torn jeans, leather jackets, and band shirts.

“A really good one,” he retorted as we reached the bottom.

He smiled at the girl behind the counter, and she was so pretty I found myself bristling with jealousy.

“We’re on the list. Josh plus one.”

I raised my eyebrows and made a face at him. “Mr. Popular, huh?”

He shrugged, not fussed about it. “I know one of the guys in the band, and he hooked me up.”

The girl checked her list and waved us through. “You’re good.”

Another set of stairs and we emerged into the venue. The bar was bustling with activity, and beyond, the stage was lit with a moody blue light. Instruments, amps, and all kinds of equipment were being set up by furiously working roadies as people lingered around the front of the stage, waiting for the band to come on and play.

“I don’t know if this is your thing, but it works wonders for letting go,” Josh said beside me.

“Letting go?” I asked, wondering how so many people could fit in the darkened space.

Grabbing my hand again, he pulled me through the crowd until we stood in front of the stage, squashed together. Damn, he’d led me right into the mosh pit. I wasn’t sure if this was my thing or what I was meant to do once the band came on, or if I’d get out without suffering a concussion.

I stiffened as I felt Josh’s arms wind around me. “I’ll protect you, Sparks.”

“I sure hope so,” I retorted. “This is unknown territory for me.”

“You’ve never been in a mosh pit?”

I shook my head. “Too hardcore for me.”

He didn’t have time to make fun of me because the lights went up, and the band came out on stage as cheering and clapping erupted around us.

The moment they started playing some fast rock song, we were jostled by jumping bodies. I began to panic at the sensation of losing control—it was like an ocean of people were trying to drag me under—but Josh’s arms held firm even with the cast on his right side. Letting the music wash over me, I allowed the movement to take me away, and soon, I was jumping with them, my arms in the air.

Fuck, I felt free. This was what he was trying to make me feel all night, and as adrenaline coursed through my veins, I felt like turning around and kissing him. I was reckless and daring, the constrictions my job put on my life totally falling away until I was just Holly. Just Holly jumping around like a fucking idiot with eight hundred strangers and one really hot guy.

One song melted into the next, and when the house lights came up, I almost cried in disappointment. 
I wanted to go again
.

Leaning in, Josh kissed me on the cheek, and I stood transfixed. I was so dazed by the whole experience he had to lead me outside like a child. I didn’t mind in the slightest.

Emerging out onto the street, I spun around with a wide smile on my face, and Josh caught me in his arms.

“You’ve surprised me a hell of a lot tonight, Sparks.”

I hesitated, not sure if it was a good thing or not. I’d done my best to be myself and not feel awkward around him—which was hard considering my lady bits were juicy all night—but was it enough to keep him interested now that he’d seen me outside of the hospital? When I really thought about it, I wasn’t sure who I was outside of that place, either. I guess we were both meeting the real me for the first time.

“It’s a good thing,” he murmured, running his hand over my waist.

Shit, he was edging closer. Did I want to kiss him? Yeah, but not on a street corner. If he kissed me, I’d throw him down right here, and we’d be arrested for public fornication.

“Do you—” I swallowed hard, trapped in his gaze.

“Do I what?” he prodded, his mouth quirking.

“Do you want to come to my place? I have beer.”

“Only beer?” he asked, his fingers tightening on my waist.

I nodded. “To begin with.”

He stared at me like he was waiting for me to change my mind, and when I didn’t bite, he let his hand fall and grasped mine again. “Lead the way.”

As we walked hand in hand through the city, I wondered what he’d make of my little slice of Melbourne and the boxes that were still piled up unopened months after they’d been delivered. Pretty mediocre after what he’d just shown me.

“
T
his is your place
?” Josh asked, staring up at the apartment building I kind of called home. I say kind of because I still hadn’t unpacked.

At twenty-six stories high, the modern apartment block, which sat on the edge of Melbourne’s Docklands development, looked pretty impressive from the outside. It was smack bang on the edge of the city center—the skyscrapers marking the heart of the city a stone’s throw away.

I paused on the footpath, shyness creeping back into my psyche. “So?”

“I just imagined…” He trailed off and sighed. “I don’t know what I imagined.”

“I do what I do because I want to,” I said, bristling at the realization he was put off by my paycheck. “I don’t do it for the money.”

He snorted and stared back up at the building.

“What?”

“Somehow, I believe that,” he said, his gaze returning to mine. “New York to Melbourne. Must’ve been a hell of a pay cut.”

I shrugged. “Who cares? It brought me to this moment, didn’t it?”

We rode the elevator up to my floor in silence. He stood next to me, our arms touching, and when we got to my front door, he stepped aside to allow me to unlock it.

Venturing into the apartment, I didn’t bother turning on any lights. It was dark and moody, the glow from the city shining enough on us to keep the feeling of the night we’d had so far intact.

“Nice boxes,” Josh said as he stepped in behind me and closed us in.

“Shut up. I’m a busy person.” I stuck my tongue out at him. “Take a seat,” I said, opening the fridge and pulling out two beers.

Turning, I found he’d already made himself at home, so I kicked off my boots and padded over to the couch. I handed him one of the beers and sank down beside him.

“How have you been?” he asked, twisting the top off the bottle. “After the other day?”

I’d hoped he wouldn’t bring up the moment he found me crying over Sammy out the front of the hospital. This entire night had gone so well, the weight of Sammy’s loss had seemed to lift from my shoulders. Archer was a cold bastard, but in some ways, he’d been right. We’d done everything we could in that moment.

I shrugged. “Some patients never leave you. It gets easier over time, but it’ll always be there. No matter what I do or how much I know, I can’t save everyone.”

“It sucks,” he said, glancing at me. “But I reckon you save a fair few as well.”

Drawing in a deep breath, I glanced out of the windows and across the city. Skyscrapers dominated the scene, and orange and white lights sparkled across the horizon as Melbourne stretched off into the distance.