REBEL: #4.5 The Beat and The Pulse (4 page)

A
pig
in a den of wolves.

The cops equaled pigs insult was one that I’d hated from day one. When a drunken perp, who’d become violent, begins to oink at you, it’s hard not to become the poster child for police brutality.

Despite the very crystal clear warning that Hunter had given me, I found myself back at The Underground, more determined than ever to prove all those imbeciles wrong. Sires, Howard, Frommer, Hunter…they’d all be fuming that they weren’t the ones cracking this nut.

Despite the trouble I was risking, my gaze ran over the crowd, looking for the one man I probably shouldn’t be getting any closer to. Not physically, anyway.

Rebel was nowhere in sight, but I saw his name scrawled on the board as being scheduled to fight, so he had to be around here someplace. At the thought of him being in the same building as I was, I felt a shiver run down my spine and right into my lady parts. I’d had a good go at easing the tension last night and this morning, but nothing seemed to scratch that itch.

Deciding a drink was in order, I threaded my way through the crowd and headed to the bar. Just like the other night, the place was packed and pumping. It didn’t seem to matter which day of the week it was, every day was a big one when they had a stream of people waiting to fight and another wanting to watch it.

Glancing up at the board as I passed, I realized they had a women’s tournament as well. Women fought here? Holy shit. They had to be some tough chicks to want to do this. I’d been in more than my fair share of scraps but having one in that cage? Hell to the no.

I leaned against the bar and waited my turn, using the time to survey the crowd and the staff. The bar itself was fully stocked with everything from the finest spirits to the crappiest lolly drinks. UDL’s and Vodka Cruisers, that kind of thing—‘chick’ drinks. Beer and cider was on tap, and they were pumping them out hard. The liquor itself would make a pretty chunk of change at the end of the night, but it definitely paled in comparison to what the bookmakers brought in. The money currently being flung around there was in wads.

“What can I get ya?”

I turned as I heard the woman bartender try to get my attention. She was a slim, alternative looking girl with black hair and black fingernails. “Scotch,” I yelled over the noise.

The woman smiled at me. “You wouldn't be Charlotte by any chance?”

I blinked hard.

She smiled again. “Don’t look so scared,” she said, her voice friendly. “Rebel’s looking for you. Asked me to keep an eye out.”

Thinking back to the little interlude with the fighter, I said. “Oh, I’m sure he did.”

“You know,” the bartender went on, “I’ve been around this shithole for a long time, and one thing I know is that fighters don’t usually stick. You brush ‘em off and they find something else to entertain themselves with.”

“And what?” I scoffed. “Rebel went and found himself a new plaything?”

She shook her head, laughing like I’d just told her the best joke she’d ever heard. Pulling down a bottle of scotch, she picked up a glass and began filling it. She stopped at three fingers and tossed a couple of cubes of ice in like it was an afterthought. Placing it in front of me, she said. “On the house. You’re gunna need it.”

I narrowed my eyes, not knowing if I should be offended or calling her my best friend.

“I’m Lori,” she said.

“I’d tell you who I am but you already seem to know,” I said with a sigh. “But please, call me Charlie. Charlotte is so…” I shrugged.

“Girly?”

My hard cop exterior melted some, and I laughed. “Something like that.”

“Well, get that in ya because my money’s on Rebel sniffing you out in the next ten minutes. He’s been asking questions.”

“Questions?” I squeaked.

“You’re the mystery woman who’s got the king of the cage all twisted around her little finger. He’s sent his lackeys to work. Odds are, he already knows you’re here.”

Oh shit, I was trying to keep a low profile, not become the talk of The Underground. If this got back to the wrong people, I was in big trouble. Suspended without pay or worse,
fired
.

Lori leaned over the bar. “Word of advice, Charlie. That guy’s smart. He ain’t some dead shit fighter that’s been knocked in the head one too many times. Don’t give him an inch. Make him work for it.”

Grabbing the drink in front of me, I pressed it against my lips and took a swig. The liquor burned a trail right down my throat and into my stomach, doing nothing but fuel the flames that were already burning.
Damn it
. I was here to further my career, not hop into bed with a fighter…a hot, buff fighter…

I shook my head, and Lori laughed.

“Good luck with that,” she said. “See you round, huh?”

“Maybe,” I replied before finishing off the rest of the scotch. “We’ll see what happens in the next ten minutes.”

She grinned like she knew a secret I still hadn’t been let in on and moved away to serve another customer.

Stepping away from the bar, I felt the buzz of the alcohol as it began to ping through my bloodstream, making me slightly bolder. The goal was to immerse myself in the lifestyle and get close to the players, so I could piece the puzzle together. Find the cracks so I could exploit them. Classic undercover cop techniques if I did say so myself…now with the added bonus of being officially unsanctioned.

Knowing that it was only a matter of time before Rebel found me himself, I did everything I could to stop myself from looking. He was a massive anomaly, meaning that he wasn’t a part of the equation at all. What would I do when he was finally standing in front of me for the second time? I wasn’t entirely sure, but my traitorous lady bits seemed excited by the prospect.

Stopping in front of the bookies, a wicked thought crossed my mind. If I wanted to be a part of this place and make it look convincing… I approached the nearest, who was this balding older man wearing a bum bag around his waist. A man purse for all his money. He held a notepad and pen in his hand, and his eyes lit up when he saw me near.

“Want to place a bet, young lady?” he asked, flashing me a smile. I could see the dollar signs flashing in his eyes, but he wasn’t going to make an easy mark out of me. People usually thought they could get one over me because I was somewhat pretty and had blonde hair, but when they found out what I did, they usually turned tail and ran. Not this time.

“One hundred down on Rebel,” I said, handing over two fifties.

“Only a hundred?” a deep voice rumbled in my ear.

My entire body flared to life as I became aware of Rebel's presence behind me. Turning, I smacked into his chest and his hands shot up and grasped my waist. Staring right into his eyes, I swallowed hard. He was touching me through my clothes and I could feel the heat of his skin. Hot, hard, skilled… Rebel was a very physical creature, and from the satisfied smile on his face, he knew it too.

“I only brought a hundred,” I said, my words running together.

He smiled wider, his eyes lighting up. “Then a hundred it is.”

We stood there in a sea of people, staring at each other like nothing else existed. I was totally dazzled by the man, but I wasn’t sure what his game was. I hadn’t thought of myself as hot property before, not where the opposite sex was involved. I’d had my fair share of boyfriends, but they usually cut out pretty quick. Something to do with them being dickheads and me being tougher than they were. In my experience, men didn’t like being in relationships with women in positions of authority.

Finally, Rebel said, “I wasn’t sure you were real.”

“Why’d you think that?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. His rich, chocolate eyes sparkled with mischief. He was cocky, alright. I’d have to keep an eye on this one.

“You left me hanging.”

“I’m sure you found something to handle that.” I scowled, surprised at the knot of jealousy that was twisting in my stomach.

“Yeah,” he said, edging closer. “My right hand.”

I should’ve slapped him for his brazen comment, or I should’ve told him to go jump, but I found my inner woman was actually pleased he’d jacked off while thinking about me—a woman he’d only spoken to once. Oh, and dry humped against a wall.

He smiled, knowing that he had me interested. Damn it.

“You wanna place that bet, lady?”

I blinked hard as I was unceremoniously torn from Rebel’s thrall back into the din of The Underground. Shoving the fifties I still clutched in a trembling hand at the bookie, I nodded. “It’s on.”

The man scrawled on a bit of paper and handed me a receipt. “If he wins, come back and see me with that.”

Rebel had inched closer while my attention was pulled away, his hands tightening around my waist. “You’re gunna double that, sugar.”

I raised my eyebrows at the fighter.
Sugar?
“At two to one, I’d hope so.”

“You gunna give me a kiss for luck?”

I rolled my eyes and knocked his hands away. “Somehow, I don’t think you need it.”

“I’d still like it,” he shot back.

I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’re just gunna have to earn it.”

A sly smile tugged at his lips and I stared at them, my mind beginning to wander again.

“You want it, sugar. Don’t deny it.”

“I didn’t deny anything,” I retorted. “Double or nothing.”

Rebel's smile spread into a grin, his eyes flashing with interest. I’d just thrown a leg of meat into the lion’s den. “Double it is, Sweet Lips.”

He pressed his fingers against his lips and held them out to me like a promise before backing away into the crowd, off to fight some other hulking specimen.

Double or nothing? Oh fuck, what was I thinking?

N
ot wasting a moment
, I stepped into the cage as Max announced my name to The Underground.

My eyes were on the prize. Charlotte was going to get more than double. She’d get at least quadruple her investment—I’d see to it personally.

My opponent was a guy named Steel. He was a place below me on the leaderboard and a crowd favorite, so everyone was expecting a good show with lots of blood. We were the same height and similar weight, but he was slightly more built. We were a solid match for one another, but this was my first Championship and his third. Steel was classified a veteran in these parts, and I was fresh meat.

“I heard you’re pussy-whipped,” Steel said, trying to work me up with his words.

I smirked. It was all in good fun with that guy, but nothing could touch me tonight. “Not gunna work, asshole.”

“No slacking or showing off for your woman, Rebel,” he shot back. “Give it to me good.”

“And you reckon I’m the one that’s whipped? What’s up your ass?”

He snarled at me, cracking his neck. He was an angry son of a bitch tonight, which meant I had my work cut out for me. That was good enough for me, it meant I’d have a lot of adrenalin to work out with Charlotte later on. Women liked a good show of male domination in this place, and I hoped she was on the same wavelength. If she wasn’t, she’d soon see what all the fuss was about.

A lot of fights were easy in this place, but as the season went on and the weak were weeded out, things became more difficult. I was on top, but I had to work harder for it each time I went into that cage. That meant I took more hits and had to land more.

Max called it, and the fight was on. Steel was fast and landed a few early punches, but I refused to be taken down. We grappled to deadlock and had to be separated to our lines before being pushed back in. The crowd was frustrated and so was I.

I’d promised double or nothing, and I didn’t know if my cock would recover if I didn’t get Charlotte what she wanted. Her challenge had been like waving a red flag in front of an angry bull. An angry, horny as fuck, bull. All I could think about was having her against that wall, being inside her, making her come…

Steel’s fist connected with the side of my head, and I fell against the side of the cage—dazed for a split second—before coming back at him with a roar. My shoulder slammed into his gut, right where it needed to be to knock the wind from the bastard. Fuck, my dick was overriding my ability to fight.

I kept my forward momentum going, driving Steel across the center of the cage, and when I had enough force behind me, I lowered my stance and sent him careening over my shoulder. There was an excited roar from the crowd, and I turned on my heel. Steel was on the ground, gasping for air while trying to push himself back onto his feet.
Stubborn prick
.

Crowbar had been an easy enough fight, but tonight was working me hard. Steel was a tough contender and had me running in circles, until now. I had a chance to end the fight before he could end me.

I came round back and kicked his weight from underneath him. He’d gotten in some good hooks while I was fantasizing about fucking Charlotte, and I’d have the lump on my skull to prove it tomorrow.

Shoving a knee into his back, I raised a fist for the knockout, the crowd smashing their feet against the bleachers and rattling the cage.

Tap Steel
, I thought.
Fuckin’ tap
.

He struggled underneath me, his pride driving him to what would be a painful end. He left me no choice.

I struck, my fist slamming hard against his head, and he went limp.

KO.

I
t was
part of the scene, but I never liked knockouts. Those were the rules The Underground flew by, few though they were, and I had to abide by them. Fight until someone taps or can no longer continue. Fighter’s code.

Out back, the noise from the arena was muffled, which was heaven for my aching head. It throbbed where Steel had clocked me one, but the headache tablets were already doing their thing. He would be cursing me until the day he died or until he managed to get me back. Fifteen minutes later, he was still out on a stretcher, dead to the fuckin’ world.

Yeah, we all got hurt here, some guys got hurt beyond repair, but we all knew the risks when we signed up. Willing participants only. Still felt bad when I had to punch a guy into darkness.

Splashing water on my face, I gave myself one last look in the mirror before I pulled on a shirt and left the change room to go claim my prize.

Charlotte
.

It had been a good win. A really fucking good win.

Stepping out into the hall, my gaze collided with the woman herself. All five-nine, blonde hair, blue eyes, legs up to her armpits, inch of her.

She was standing in the exact same place I’d found her the other night, and it got me to thinking that it wasn’t a coincidence. She was looking for something, but who knew what. A pretty thing like her had to be trouble if it was more than fucking she was after. I wasn’t even sure she wanted that despite her body telling me otherwise. People with motives in this place were a dangerous combination.

I stood behind her, and she jumped, turning to face me with a hand over her heart. She was definitely up to something.

“Again?,” I asked, watching her reaction.

“I was looking for you…” she said, trailing off. “Double or nothing, remember?”

I saw right through her lie, but I still wasn’t sure what she was looking for. She had an agenda, but I wasn’t sure if I was a part of it just yet.

“No runnin’ this time?” I drawled.

She shook her head, her blue eyes never leaving mine. Bold little thing. Seemed to have grown in her overnight.

My gaze dropped to her lips before returning to her baby blues. “Who are you, Charlotte?”

She swallowed hard. “Call me Charlie,” she said. “Nobody calls me Charlotte.”

I edged closer, positioning my body right in front of hers. We were close enough to touch, the air seeming to charge between us…a promise to what was coming. I didn’t make a move, letting the anticipation do all the work.

“Why did you come to The Underground,
Charlie
?” I let the sound of her name wrap around my tongue and let it wash over her. There was a great deal of power in a name. A great fucking deal.

Her breathing began to quicken. “I wanted something more.”

Raising my hand, I picked up a lock of her hair and twisted it around my finger. It looked like gold. “More?”

“I was unhappy,” she said in a rush.

“Boyfriend treat you bad?” I asked, my gaze rising to meet hers.

She shook her head. “There is no boyfriend.”

If there was, he was a fool for letting her come to a place like this alone. She was a baby fucking lamb in a den of foxes. Best I devour her before they did.

I closed the inch of space between us, my hand burying into her hair, and crashed my mouth against hers. Her lips parted in a gasp, and I curled my tongue around hers, taking. I was in command, and right now, she was mine.