ZEKE (9 page)

I duck under his next swing and whip my right leg out in a short arc. The kick misses. I drop down, flick my head to the side, and leap off one foot, launching a flying jab followed by a knee to his gut, which lands with a hard whack. He stumbles backward, shaking his head.

“Now, this is startin’ to get fun,” he says, punching his gloves together. His grin widens as he comes at me full force.

“I like fun,” I say lunging at him. I get him in a body lock and hook my leg around his. I take him down and the weight of our bodies bounce loudly on the mat.

The crowd roars.

He lands on top of me, and I know timing is key. The second we hit the floor, I grab his elbow and lift my hips for more pulling power
.
I yank his arm to the side, throw my legs open, and crush him, locking his shoulder in place. Squeezing both knees to the left, I block his face with my hand so he can’t move.

“Damn,” he says between clenched teeth and that wily grin. “You’re a quick fucker.”

“Yeah.” I toss him one of my own wily grins. “I’m kinda known for it.”

His muscles tense beneath my body. I squeeze tighter as he tries to break free from the arm bar I’ve gotten him in. Then I feel his laughter. It vibrates against my shaking thighs. “Yeah,” he seethes between grinding teeth. “Well, you fast little bugger, I think you might have me here,” he says, exhaling even harder between each chuckle.

“Just let me know when you’re ready to give up.” I smile, praying he’s ready. Muscles burning, I’m exhausted.

“I ain’t ever gonna give up.” He glares down at me through dark, unbeatable eyes. “But I do think that you and I could use a break,” his left eyebrow raises, “and maybe a beer.”

“A beer does sound good,” I say, catching from the corner of my eye him tapping out of the game. Every strained muscle in my body relaxes, my legs loosen, and the huge fucker gets off me.

His hand reaches out, and I grab it. He pulls me from the mat, hits me on the back, and throws another wily grin at me. “Good fight.” He nods before exiting the cage.

The ref lifts my arm and the crowd goes wild. “Thunderstruck” bellows from the sound system as I gather my shit, check myself, and finally, make my way out the back door. Once in my apartment, I guzzle down a couple of beers and then take a shower. I wipe the fog from the mirror and stare at my bruised face. Man, that guy did a number on me. Gotta respect the fucker. It was a good fight.

I put some ointment on the cut along my cheek and go get dressed. I’m gonna need a few more brews and maybe even a few shots to numb my hurting body if I’m gonna get any sleep tonight.

I make my way out the door and see Jax coming down the hall. “Hey, buttercup.” I joist my chin, feeling every bruise on my face. “You work till closing tonight?”

“Yeah,” he stops, “was just coming to check on you.” His eyes roam over my destroyed body.

“See the fight?” I ruffle my wet hair, ignoring the fatherly concern.

“He’s gotta be a boxer.” Jax rests his hands on his hips.

“No shit.” I chuckle. “I realized that after the first few jabs to my face. Who is he?”

“Don’t know. Called me last week to sign up for a fight, he knows Rigs. I emailed him the rules. He signed them, sent ‘em back, and paid the fee.”

“Rigs, huh? I don’t trust that guy. He’s shady.”

“Nah, he just don’t talk much. I think it’s got something to do with what he does to get the bills paid, but he’s okay,” Jax says.

“Well, his buddy, TK, he’s one tough fucker.” I rub my chin recalling a few of those powerful hits.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t know anything about him, figured I’d pin him against you. You like a challenge, can handle yourself, and the patrons, they sure do love to see some new blood.” He laughs. “Hope they weren’t too disappointed that it was your blood they got to see tonight.” He grabs my chin and inspects my cheek. “It’s not too deep, shouldn’t leave a scar.” He releases me. “You headed to the bar then?”

“For a couple, yeah.”

“Your redhead is here,” he jabs.

“She’s not mine.” I grimace. “I told you, we’re just friends. I got no interest in her. I haven’t hit that.”

“Yeah,” he says, a smile creeping on his face, “that’s ‘cause after you fuck her, you gotta let her go.” He pats me on the chest. “And you’re not sure if you want to let this one go.”

“Fuck you.” I push his condescending hand from my chest. “Hey, did Slate show up for his fight?”

“Yeah, and Rayna was here.”

“Shit.” I riffle a hand through my hair again. “She didn’t know about the, ah ... about him?”

“No. I told Emmie just before the fight started. Neither of them has seen him since they’ve gotten back in town. Fucked Rayna up.”

“We probably should have told her.”

“Hell,” Jax lets out a loud breath, “I didn’t know how.”

“I get that.” I nod. “So, you and Emmie, that shit’s real, huh?”

The corner of Jax’s mouth lifts, and I know I’m not getting anything more out of my reserved older brother. “Hey, be careful out there.” He points at me before walking away.

“Out where?” I turn around and lift my hands in the air just as Jax disappears behind the door. I gaze at the door. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Fuck him, even if what he said is true. I haven’t seen Lurlene in a few days, but I haven’t tried either. The last time we were together, I came so close to ripping her clothes off and fucking her senseless. But I stopped myself. Jax is right. I’m not ready to let her go, not yet. Of course, I had to leave my mark on her, and that’s why I made her come. I want her to think about me. Can’t say if it worked, though, because she hasn’t called me either.

I get to the front bar, and Rusty places a shot glass in front of me. “What’s your poison, bitchmeat? Jameson, a slippery nipple, 252, or how about a mind eraser? Ya know, to help you forget about that fight.” She smirks.

“Gimme a Jägermeister, and I won that match, beautiful.” I sit down on the stool.

“Barely.” She grabs the Jäger and fills the shot glass. “Oh, I get it.” She pulls the bottle against her perky breasts waiting for me to finish the shot. “You let that guy kick your ass, didn’t you?” She refills the glass.

I pick up the shot glass. “And why would I do that?” I muse before downing the burning alcohol.

“Well, look at you. What chick doesn’t go for the wounded puppy look? I mean, let’s face it, Zeke, you’re losing your game. I haven’t seen you take a girl home in the past couple of weeks.”

I place the glass on the counter. “Hit me again.” I wink at her and she fills me up. “And can I get a beer?”

“Sure.” She sweetly smirks at me and twists around to the cooler. I finish the Jäger, watching her come back around, her eyes skimming the place. “Could be that, or you’re just losing your mojo.” She cracks open my beer and looks at me. “Then again, it also could have something to do with her.” Her eyes shift to the end of the bar as she sets my beer in front of me. I reach out for it and glance to the left.

My hand tightens around the wet bottle. The bearded ox that nearly bested me in the cage is hanging all over my girl! With one arm draped across Lurlene’s slender shoulders, he’s whispering something into her ear. My blood boils, intensifying every hit the fucker landed on my body earlier. My bruised muscles flex and my insides burn. Lurlene laughs at something he’s saying and my hand fists. Blinded by the kiss the asshole just landed on my girl’s cheek as he pulls her closer to his chest, I rise from the stool. I’m gonna kill the fucker. Well, I’m going to try. I can only imagine what a punch coming from the big fucker might feel like without gloves, knuckles to bone, but I can’t let the bastard think he can have what belongs to me. Up until now, the only one I’ve had to protect Lurlene from, the one that man I’ve had to fight, is me, and I’m the toughest motherfucker I know. So I got this. Yeah, I set my sights on the bearded beast and head toward them. He’s going down ...

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Emmie and I chase after Rayna to the front bar. I’ve never seen my friend so distraught before; she’s always in control and unflappable. Understandably, seeing Slate Declan’s scarred body destroyed all those prime attributes in the girl that I’ve known for the past few years. It must’ve been hard for her to see the man she loved, or maybe even still loves, like that.

Just as we make our way to the door, I glance around to see if I can catch a glimpse of Zeke before we leave. I stop and my mouth drops open. “Token?”

Emmie and Rayna also come to a halt as I stare at my brother. Tatted forearms resting on the bar, his legs crossed at the ankles, just like him, lounging back as if he owns the place.

“Holy shit, what’s he doing here?” Emmie turns to me asking the very thing I’m thinking. “Did you know he was−”

“No.” I shake my head and scowl at my brother’s big bushy grin.

“Sorry.” Rayna waves at us, eyes glossing over. “I gotta go.” She pushes the front door open and disappears.

Emmie looks at me, no doubt feeling as I do—the need to go after our devastated friend.

“It’s okay.” I touch Emmie’s shoulder. “I won’t be long. I’ll meet you back at the house.” I usher her to follow Rayna.

“All right, call if you need a ride. I’m sure that I’ll be up for a while babysitting Rayna after she polishes off a bottle, or two, of wine. This sucks. I’m going to kill Jax for not telling me about Slate sooner. I could have prepared her.” She sighs. “Tell Token I said hi,” she says before heading out the door after Rayna.

“Sure thing.” I shift my eyes back over to my brother. His grin gets bigger. Damn, with his huge muscular form, dark tee, chain hanging from his beat-up jeans, not to mention, the tatt on his neck and on nearly every inch of both arms, he fits right in at JZS. I hate his beard. I tell him that all the time, but he says the chicks dig it. I’m not one of those “chicks.” I like my men clean-shaven. Of course, Zeke’s the exception. Sometimes, he’s a little scruffy, but I have to admit that I like it on him. Heck, I like anything on that man. I can only imagine that I’d like nothing on him too.

“Hey, Lulu,” Token says as I make my way to him.

“What are you doing here?” I grab his beard and give it a tug.

He laughs, and it’s nice to hear that deep familiar sound. It reminds me of home. “Ma told me that you’d be here for the summer. I had some time off and was passing through, heard about this place from a buddy of mine, thought I’d check it out.” He tosses a heavy tatted arm over my shoulders. “And I wanted to see my little sis.” He smiles and his hazel eyes sparkle beneath long dark lashes as he looks around, pulling me closer. “Was gonna call ya tomorrow.” He leans down to my ear and lowers his voice. “Gotta say, though, I didn’t think that I’d find my little sis in a place like this.”

I notice the shiner on his left eye. I’m not sure what Token does for a living because he doesn’t talk about it. He used to box, but a few years ago, he quit and then he started showing up around the holidays with new toys, a motorcycle, a Maserati, and for the past three years, he’s bought my parents a vacation at some exotic resort for Christmas. My brother Stone topped him last year, though, when he gave them a two-week vacation to Ireland; Mom has family there. Boys, they’re so competitive. I got my parents a new Keurig and they love me just the same.

I glance at the shiner again. “I’d hate to see the other guy,” I tease, tugging the soft whiskers on his chin again.

He smiles, teeth showing as if proud with himself. Boys!

He looks up. “Well, it looks like you’re gonna get the chance.” He stares straight ahead chest rising as he holds that humongous stupid grin.

I follow his eyes and my heart drops to my belly. Face cut and bruised with his eyes dangerously directed at my brother, Zeke is heading straight for us.

“You fought here, tonight?” I flash to Token, quickly understanding what’s going on. “In the ring?”

“Yeah.” Token nudges his head at Zeke, smile widening.

“Did you fight him?”

“I sure did.” He steps in front of me. “And it looks like the lad maybe wants to go another round.”

I peek at Zeke from around my brother’s broad shoulders. His dark eyes narrow. Oh no, this can’t be good. Token moves me back behind his huge frame and holds me there with his firm grip. Shit! I know how boys are—they fight first and talk later. I grab Token’s tense muscular bicep. The tension pulsates beneath my fingers. He’s preparing for a fight.

“Lurlene,” I hear Zeke’s deep voice. I sway to the side to peer up at him. Now standing a few inches from Token with his fists clenched at his sides. He’s way too close to my pumped brother. Without looking at me, eyes like daggers and ready to release onto Token, he asks, “You okay?”

“Yes.” I clear my throat and feel Token’s muscles relax a little. Recognizing the concern in Zeke must have shut him down. God knows it did me. I didn’t expect him to come running to my rescue. He probably thinks Token is some kind of unwanted guest. “Ah,” this time when I try to move, Token allows it, “this is my brother, Token.”

“Yeah, Lulu,” Token says with a gruff laugh, “we met. He just kicked my ass in the ring.” My brother is many things but contrite isn’t one of them.