Page 1 of Saving Blood

PROLOGUE

BLOOD

I wasn’t born an outlaw, but life’s choices and the need to survive made living outside the law a necessity and reaping its benefits a luxury. Becoming a Royal Bastard gave my life value and an outlet to vent my anger at the injustice of my birth.

My worth is measured in my service to my club and my brothers. Up until this moment, nothing and no one held more importance.

But that was all about to change…

1

BLOOD/Tijuana, MX

Flesh hitting flesh along with savage grunts and groans surround Smoke and me as Diesel pummels his opponent in the cage. Our front-row seats are close enough to the action to see every cut and bruise, but far enough away from the splattered blood of the losers.

“I told you Diesel would be a monster in the ring.” I nod toward the six-foot-five giant in the cage.

When Smoke doesn’t respond, I add, “He annihilates anyone he comes up against. He’s the best underground cage fighter on the Baja Coast.”

Diesel’s skill in the cage never disappoints, as he bounces on the balls of his feet in the center of the metal cage. His massive body is barely contained in the red tank top and silk shorts all our fighters wear with the RBMC logo proudly scrolled across the back.

“Brings in a shit ton of money.” I adjust my aviators against the intense Tijuana sun. “Guys come from all over just to see him pulverize these poor fuckers.”

Nothing brought in fast cash like two guys beating the shit outta each other. Not even the curviest stripper at The Tropics could compete with the chaos of the bloodiest, baddest, no-limits fights. No rules, no sanctions, just two guys on a mission to knock each other senseless and win the no-limit bets and high stakes of every fight.

Almost as barbaric as the gladiators of Rome—and just as lucrative.

Smoke nods but keeps his eyes trained on Diesel’s relentless jabs and kicks.

Typical Smoke, no reaction until he totally susses out the situation, making him the perfect prez of the Royal Bastards, Tijuana Chapter. His cool, controlled temperament and my aggressive, sometimes over-the-top energy as VP make us the perfect team. Just the right mix of savvy and savage.

Smoke shifts on the newly installed bleachers surrounding the regulation cage. “He isn’t what you dragged me out in the blazing sun to see though, is it?”

I smirk ‘cause I never could hide anything from the fucker, but the surprise I have for Smoke will surpass even his expectations. “Just be patient, ‘cause you ain’t gonna believe what’s next.”

“As you know, patience ain’t my thing.”

Diesel’s opponent thuds to the mat then taps out, and the referee declares Diesel the winner. Power and chaos fill the air along with an electric energy, riling the high-stakes crowd into a crazed frenzy.

“Shit, the other guy didn’t have a chance.” Smoke pulls a cig out of his cut, plugs it between his lips, and I light it up. “Good move putting him here.”

I’d originally hired Diesel as a bouncer at our strip club. His ability to handle out-of-control drunks without breaking a sweat and his loyalty earned him his Enforcer patch with the Royal Bastards—and now, a top spot in the cage.

“Agreed.” I twist my lips as the referee drags the unconscious loser out of the cage.

I pride myself on keeping the fight club profitable and drama-free, not easy since most the guys I recruit are either hiding out from the law in the States or ducking out on their exes. Crazy shit, but I love it.

I grip Smoke’s shoulder. “Now, you’re in for a treat.”

The cage door bangs open, and a woman standing at least six feet tall with bulky muscles popping out of her tank top and lycra shorts enters the cage. A few seconds later, our latest fighter, Maxine, follows, dressed in red booty shorts and matching sports bra with the RBMC logo—the female version of the male silks, only showing way more skin.

The two women strut around the cage to the roar of thunderous applause and cheers from the men in the bleachers. Some even crowd the cage to bang on the wire. Yup, just as I anticipated. Give these horny fuckers a chance to engage their bloodlust while watching two hot women mix it up—win, win.

The referee brings the women to the center of the cage, says a few words in Spanish, steps away, and they begin circling each other.

Let the mayhem begin.

I couldn’t wait to see what Maxine would do in the cage after watching her train in the gym. She bobs and weaves, causing her tightly braided hair to sway from side to side. She’s slightly shorter with less bulk than her opponent, but she easily evades her as she bounces on the balls of her feet with the agility of a cat.

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