Page 15 of Scorching Lies

RYKER

The sound of bone meeting flesh fuels me forward, my body ignoring the pain, adrenaline masking each blow from my opponent. Swinging my right arm around, the edge of my knuckles splits his skin open just below his eye, and the crowd fucking roars. We side-step each other for a few seconds, his chest rising faster from exhaustion, but my blood sings in my veins. Each blow brings me higher. I live for this. The pain is nothing compared to how I feel when I control my opponent's life.

“Put him down!”

“Let’s go!”

“Drop his ass!”

“Come on Rye, get ‘em!”

Ignoring the bullshit the crowd spews, I pick up my brother's voices in the mix, but I don’t let it stop me from slamming my knee into his ribs. I’ll give him credit where it’s due, this fucker can take a hit, and I’ve been landing them for a solid threerounds. No matter how many times I put him down, he jumps right back up like a damn rabbit. Bouncy fucker. Two steps to the left and he sees it. Smiling, I let him see the blood smeared over the front of my teeth from the one hit he landed on my face. Not that he’s been able to do it again.

Twisting my head to loosen my strained muscles, I roll my shoulders, watching the way he rolls on the balls of his feet, my gaze tracks every hesitant move. Anticipating my next hit coming from my right hand, because he assumes it's my dominant one, I lash forward with my left fist hitting him on the edge of his temple. Being sure to clear the distance before he swings back, twisting my hips, my right leg juts forward jamming my shin into his side knocking the wind from his lungs.

Bouncing backwards on my toes the crowd loses it. Drinks and food are thrown at the mat, screaming echoing against the stone walls of the basement, but my eyes don’t leave his form. Tattoos stretch across every inch of his torso in different swirling patterns, but it’s his purple hair that makes him stand out against everyone else. He’s a drifter that decided he needed to prove himself, but instead he caught me in a rare mood. Ready to end this, my knee drops into his lower back, releasing a gust of air from his chest.

“Stone!”

And the chants begin.

“Stone! Stone! Stone!”

Grunting, “Tap out.” I ordered.

Giving him a chance to back out before my rage took over. He laughs, hollow eyes staring back at me over his shoulder, he wants this. Another blow to his face sprays blood across my minebut he still refuses to tap out. Hands slap the mat fueling our barbaric bullshit. Flipping him on his back my fist lands blow after blow into his torso, head, face, over and over. I no longer see purple hair instead blonde hair fans out against the blood stained white mat. Throbbing shoots from my knuckles, split open from the abuse, the skin of a princess flashes in and out of my vision.

“Rye!”

Not sure if that was Cole or West, my arms shake with the next blow even with the numbness crawling up my spine. The drifter is out cold by now, his face almost unrecognizable, but still my hits keep coming. My body screaming from relief it almost gives out and I might have if Cole and West didn’t grip my arms hauling me from the ring.

Rolling my eyes to the side, a flash of tan skin with a massive wolf biting a sheep’s head tattooed on his spine.Fuck, they’re here.With my head swimming, there’s no time to worry about our guests. Cole and West drag me towards the door, someone shouts off to the side, “Clean this shit up!”.

We don’t trustanyone outside of G, but I don’t remember seeing him arrive so I’m not sure who that order was for. All I know is my entire body is shaking from adrenaline and built up rage. Coming to the ring helps me blow off steam when it becomes unmanageable. I’ve only let myself get that far once before and it almost ruined everything we built here.

We end up in a bathroom upstairs, Cole turning the cold water on, while West shoves me under the spray without stripping me of my shorts. Not that any of us give a shit.

Cole gets in my face, my hands on my knees, the only thing holding my weight up, looking me in my eyes.

“Get it out ya system this time? Huh? Cause we could have been looking at something real fucking bad if we didn’t haul your ass off him.”

Closing my eyes to avoid the hardness in his all I see are bright grey looking back at me. Growling out a curse, my eyes pop open, shoving Cole backward into West who takes up the back wall of the walk in shower.

Standing, my height brings me taller than both of my brothers, “Well I guess it’s a good thing you did. Not that it’s a concern since we run Del Mar. You really think the foundation is going to let anyone here touch us while they use us?”

West shifts forward, “Watch what you say outside of the house, Rye.” His head turns towards the open doorway.

Shaking my head, snickering at how worried they are, “Look at you, watching your back as if we don’t run a business full of-”

Cole steps into my chest, his fingernail digging into my skin, “Close your fucking mouth. I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, but you need to take some time away from Hawthorne. She’s in your head and one slip up could cost us more than just the power over the Kingstons.” Looking over his shoulder to West, “Take his ass home I’ll clean this shit up. G should have Dane out of here by now.”

Dane. That’s his name. West says something in response, but I’ve already checked out of their conversation. They will never understand the way I feel because it was my choice to leave dad in the warehouse dying while Kenna was in my arms. He made me choose her and I’ll regret that until the day I die.Kane Kingston left us a mess to clean up with not only the family business, but the foundation as well. It’s hard as fuck to wash money when there’s an active investigation of two deaths involving arson.

Mom’s been useless since dad died, but who can blame her? He was the love of her life and when she lost him we lost a part of her. Leaving the foundation with no one else to make the calls means it’s us on the chopping block when shit goes down. With Hank sniffing around Kingston they have been on high alert, which brings me back to why I was in the ring tonight. Getting a call about a rival family from Seattle causing waves in town wasn’t how I wanted to spend my night.

The Lawless and Savage families are making noise with their feud pulling too much attention on our side of town. Coughing, my ribs twinge with the motion.

“Fuck.” I grunt.

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