When I wake up, warm, satisfied, and yawning, Ryder is gone. I remember him carrying me into his room, into his space and cuddling me. But he’s gone, and all evidence of our time together is absent, apart from the ache between my thighs and the bite marks on my chest. Lifting the sheet, I see they’re still there, red and raw. It makes me smirk.
It was fucking amazing what we did. I came so hard, I couldn’t even see, and watching that ice melt into pure desire was addicting. All those walls hide such an explosive person underneath, and I have no idea how he does it. Turning over, the sheets wrapping around me like silk, I look out of the window to see the sun almost setting. Shit, did I sleep all day? Usually, I’m up after a few hours to open the bar, but I’m getting lazy being here.
Slipping from the bed, I grab one of his white shirts and do it up before sneaking downstairs. Unluckily for me, Garrett and Diesel are there. Garrett is shoving something into a bag at the table while Diesel watches. They both turn at my entrance. Diesel’s smoking, his eyes running over my body. Garrett looks at what I’m wearing in disgust. Ever since the restaurant, he’s distant again, almost disgusted with me…or him, I’m not sure.
“Where are you going?” I ask, knowing I have no reason to be ashamed of what I did with Ryder.
“None of your fucking business,” Garrett snaps.
“To a fight. We’re going to see if we can find anything else and plant a few rumours. Want to come?” Diesel questions, ignoring Garrett’s snarls.
“Sure, let me get dressed.” I grin.
Garrett slams his hands into the table. “She’s not fucking coming, she can stay here with the guards until Kenzo and Ryder get back from work.”
“Nah, that’s boring, I’m coming,” I offer with finality before turning and trotting away.
“Fuck’s sake!” I hear him yell. Wow, someone is pissy today. Maybe he needs this fight, might help him with his anger issues.
I have a quick wash before getting ready. I slip into some ripped shorts and one of the new shirts they bought me, tying it so my stomach is exposed. I put on some makeup and my kickass boots and I’m ready to go. I grab my leather jacket and slide my knife into it before heading out to meet them.
Garrett takes one look at me and storms through the front door. Diesel laughs and grabs me. “This will be fun.”
We ride down in the elevator in tense silence. I spot Tony and Sam at the bottom so I wave, but Diesel drags me to the car. I get in the back with Diesel and stay quiet as Garrett peels out of the garage. We drive for around twenty minutes before pulling up at another parking structure. He cuts the engine and climbs out without a word. I follow after him, the slamming of my door loud in the car park. Diesel meets me around the front of the car, while Garrett is already reaching the side door of the building with his long strides. He bangs on it twice, and it opens, music and screams pouring out.
“Who are they?” the greasy man barks, looking at me with a leer. Garrett steps into his path, blocking me from his view.
“With me.”
The man snorts but steps back. “I got a slot up in ten, get ready.” With that, he’s gone.
Garrett glances back at me and seems to debate something before sighing. “Stay close.”
I reach forward and clutch the back of his shirt. He freezes before ignoring me and winding through the crowd. The music is loud, the sound of flesh hitting flesh audible even from here. Garrett smacks and shoves people to get through, and Diesel follows to stop people from pushing me.
When we reach the front, Garrett’s head cranes before he heads over to some old crates in the corner of the ring. He turns, grabs my hips, and drops me on top of one. “Stay here, do not fucking move, and shout if you need anything,” he orders.
I nod, and he steps back before pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it at me. I catch it automatically, even as I drool at his chest. The scars make me wiggle uncomfortably as my pussy pulses. He’s a goddamn machine, and his torso is carved for girls’ wet dreams. I hold his shirt on my lap as he turns and kicks off his boots, and then he lays his weapons on my lap before, with one more narrow-eyed look at me, he heads to the ring where someone is being dragged from it, unconscious.
“I’m going to see what I can hear, stay right here. I’ll have my eyes on you at all times,” Diesel murmurs, before dropping a kiss on my cheek and blending in with the crowd. I look for him, but I can’t spot him through the throng. However, like he said, I can feel his eyes on me, as well as others. I turn and meet their stares. They’re confused as to who I am, but no one dares approach me, and honestly, I don’t blame them. I walked in with Diesel and Garrett—two scary fucking bastards.
Even if they don’t know who they are, they can sense the danger, so they stay clear. Garrett is up next, and they announce him as Mad Dog before a really big guy steps into the crude ring opposite him.
Then, I can’t drag my eyes away from him. He needed this, I realise, to let some anger out. This isn’t a game or a way to gain information. He needed to fight like he needed to breathe. His body is finally relaxing, his shoulders rolling as he cracks his neck, and a nasty smile curls his lips.
My pussy basically starts a Garrett fan club then, pom poms and all.
He waits for the other man to move first, the crowd screaming his name, but they all fade away as I watch the bunching of his back muscles, knowing he’s going to move. He ducks the punch, dancing backwards on light feet, teasing his opponent.
“Hey, hot stuff, want to party?” a voice slurs in my ear.
I jerk my head around and realise I was so distracted, a man has snuck up on me. He grins, flashing crooked yellow teeth at me. His slicked back hair is greasy and unkempt, his blue eyes are lackluster, and his skin is pale and clammy. A junkie. I would recognise the signs anywhere without having to see the track marks. “Get lost,” I snap, knowing Diesel will be over soon.
“Aww, come on, I can show you a good time,” he mumbles, and grabs my leg—on my bare thigh. Before Diesel can kick his ass, I clutch his hand, twist it back, snap his wrist, and use it as leverage to turn him around.
“Do not fucking touch me, you piece of shit, or I’ll kill you, understand?” I snarl, and push him away.
He howls but glares at me, stumbling closer, his bad wrist held against his chest. I pull back my fist and slam it into his face before grabbing Garrett’s gun and clicking off the safety. Pressing it to his forehead, I meet his eyes with an ice-cold glare. I will pull this trigger without hesitation. I don’t fucking care. “I’ll kill you, can you see it in my eyes?” He nods, fear wafting from him. “Good, better run before I do.”