Page 19 of Saving Blood

I wait until she turns the corner of the building, then I jog to the street, keeping eyes on her until the crush of tourists, pickpockets and everyone in between swallow her up and out of sight. The streets in this part of Tijuana are dangerous at night, and even though she blew me off, I couldn’t help worrying about her. The fact I worried about her even though I know she can defend herself pisses me off too.

Yeah, I’m fuckin’ screwed.

Ten minutes ago, I had a hotter-than-hell woman riding my dick and giving me the best sex I’d had in—ever. Only to be told afterward to piss off. Shit.

To make matters worse, it’s almost one in the morning, and I’m wide awake, so I sprint back to the gym, unlock the door, flip on the lights, and head for my office. I want to check the lineup of fighters for next week and stash the money from Juan in the safe. It’s not smart to walk around holding a wad of cash in Tijuana.

I open the closet, shift some floorboards and spin the dial on the safe set between the slats. I drop in the cash and slam the safe door. I shuffle some papers on my desk and check the sheet with the lineup of fighters for next week. Manny ragged on me to use a spreadsheet on the computer, but the thought of learning Excel bit me in the ass. Too much fuckin’ trouble. Much easier to write it out by hand.

I push away from my desk and pause. My desk’s usually a mess, but the papers with the lineup were neatly stacked. Not the way I left them scattered over my desk. Has someone been in my office? Maybe Diesel looking for something? Nah, he’s even more disorganized than me. No fuckin’ way he’d make neat stacks of papers.

Although we have cameras outside the building, we don’t have any in the gym or the office. Mainly because we don’t want any proof of all the money we stash in here or where it is hidden.

I check the outside cameras once more on my phone, but the only one I see entering the gym is me. I leave my office and lock up, but I can’t shake the wonky sensation something is off. Outside, I check the surrounding area, even walk completely around the fight cage before I realize maybe what is off is me.

Sex with Maxine was—different. More intense, more desperate, more—passionate. I could get laid any day of the week, but with Maxine, there was a connection bordering on raw emotion and need. The absolute power of her body and her sheer will and boldness. She fuckin’ bit me—hard, then glared at me. Testing me, trying to figure me out. So different and defiant, and so damn unsettling.

I head for my bike, and another missing piece surfaces. What was Maxine doing here anyway? The gym is closed on Mondays, so what the hell was she doing here after midnight?

Something didn’t add up, and first thing tomorrow I’m going to do a deeper dive into her background. Get Ricky to do some asking around and have Manny find some intel on the computer. We’ve come too far to be tripped up now, no matter how great the sex or hot the suspect.

MAXINE

I didn’t expect to see Blood on a Monday night when the gym was closed, but it couldn’t have worked out better if I planned it. Although, if he showed up sooner, he would’ve caught me rummaging around his office, but for once, luck was on my side.

Then that asshole stalking me and Blood jumping in as my protector was almost too good to be true. Him coming to my rescue served his ego even though I was handling the jerk just fine. Me giving Blood the right amount of independent sass led to sexy banter, which led to kissing, very sensual kissing, which, of course, led to sex. Not just any sex—crazy, against the wall, fist-gripping sex. In my defense, the only sex I’d had was—no, don’t go there, but it was way more than I expected from a hardcore biker.

Shit, I hadn’t come like that in—never.

I assumed he’d be all about his own pleasure, but, no, his rock-hard body had me riding his cock like a bitch in heat. The way Blood knew how to move and work me was magical, and, yeah, his dick was ginormous. The man has mad skills and definitely knows how to use his huge dick, but it was more, way more.

A hot flash zips up my spine just thinking of what we did only a few short minutes ago, and that scares the shit out of me. I can’t afford to feel, or have any connection to anyone. I have to keep my eye on the prize at all times. No exceptions if I ever plan on breaking free.

Having sex with Blood definitely fits into my plan, though I wasn’t expecting it to happen tonight, which left me totally unprepared and a bit vulnerable, so I flipped the script. Me turning him down and saying sex couldn’t happen again—genius.

Nothing gets under an alpha male’s skin like being sent away before they’re ready. The more they hear no, the hotter the pursuit, but Blood’s fierce reaction did surprise me. I dangled the bait on purpose, but I didn’t expect him to be so vocal about his disappointment. I assumed, no matter how pissed off, he’d hide his emotions. I also assumed bikers are like the men of the cartel, using sex for power and pleasure, nothing more, and yet—Blood seemed almost hurt when I told him it was a one-off. It doesn’t make sense. Don’t outlaws have many women at their disposal, caring for none of them?

I chalked it up to damaged male ego and pride on his part. The alpha male not getting what he wanted. And Blood is definitely an alpha male, from his tatted, muscled body, right down to his scuffed engineer boots. The man is physical perfection, but I have to tamp down my lust and continue as planned.

No muss, no fuss. No big deal. Nothing special.

Yeah right, even I can’t sell the lie to myself. While I worked Blood perfectly with my attitude, my mind focuses on doing it again and again while my body already aches for him. Like an addict craving junk, if I’m not careful, Blood would become addiction.

For a split second, I worried I’d gone too far and my sassy attitude might’ve put my fighting for the Royal Bastards in jeopardy, but, no, Blood reverted to pettiness by saying I was nothing more than a fighter for his club. Retaliating with twisted words of indifference, even though his growly rasp during sex said different.

Just like with Hector, when Blood didn’t get the response he wanted, he threw my value in my face. Equating my worth with what I could do for them, and how I could perform. For that alone, I could hate Blood and Hector equally because they both treated me like a commodity, something to be bartered with no more value than what I could deliver.

I veer off the main boulevard and head for my apartment. Tomorrow, I’d show Hector the pictures I took of the fight lineup for next few weeks. The whole reason for my late-night rendezvous. Hopefully, the information would keep Hector off my back for a while as he sets up his elaborate scheme. Knowing the names of the fighters in advance will give him the opportunity to pressure them into taking a dive, then betting on their opponent, gradually undermining the Royal Bastards’ fight club and weakening their profits.

Getting into the gym after-hours proved easier than I expected. The ladies’ locker room is a new addition and isn’t armed yet, so I left the door unlocked before I left. There are no cameras inside the gym, and after I found the blind spots of the outside cameras, I easily slipped in. All in all, Hector should be pleased with my intel, leaving out the part where Blood and I screwed each other’s brains out in wild abandon.

The next time Blood and I get together, and there would be a next time, I’ll be prepared. I’ll stay removed from the situation, only allowing him to see what I want him to see. I’ll play him so well, he’ll be at my mercy. Unguarded and susceptible to my requests. Requests that would have nothing to do with what Hector wants, and everything to do with what I need.

Over the years, I’d learned the hard way how to manipulate—say one thing while doing or thinking another. Those lies wove themselves together like the links on the fight cage until I wasn’t sure who was lying to whom. Deception became part of my life from the time I was a child right up to the time Hector abducted me. Lies became the foundation holding me up, but maybe if I played it right, I could win this time.

Blood’s obvious desire for me makes it much easier. Just pretend to do Hector’s bidding while using Blood to my advantage. Drop little hints to the outlaw about my dire situation. Leaving enough breadcrumbs to bring out the savior in him again, then wheedle what I need from him to win my freedom. Escape from Tijuana, the cartel and Hector. Finally freeing myself and putting the last five years behind me.

CHASTITY/Five Years Ago

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