Page 23 of Protective Biker
At first, he attempts to block my fists, but he’s too out of it soon enough to hold me back. I knock him out, hitting him again a few times in the side of the head for good measure until I’m being dragged off by multiple sets of arms. One man is not strong enough to get me to stop my attack, but five somehow manage.
Once they’ve drug me off his body, I’m able to shake my haze off and regain my focus. With a deep exhale, I realize the fight is finished.
I won.
Of course.
Round two begins after I’ve had a short break of ten minutes or so. I used the time in between to drink some water and stretch my muscles out. If I stop moving right now, my adrenaline will want to tank. I can’t afford to allow my body to move any slower. I have to remain as limber as possible until I’ve won both of my fights. The smaller guys already have a bit of an edge, being quicker at times. Luckily for me, I manage to outmaneuver them and overtake them with my brute strength. Itdoesn’t work with everyone, so I always have to have a strategy in mind.
The bag of ice that I’ve been running all over my body is basically melted, so I toss it over to Ammo. He throws it in the nearest trash can before moving back to his spot. He’s been there the entire time, in case I need something, waiting with water, ice, Vaseline, tape, you name it. He’s been a decent prospect; he definitely has respect for the club and me, which I appreciate above all.
My next opponent comes strutting out from the back like his shit doesn’t stink. I immediately remove my mouthpiece and start laughing at him. We’ve watched enough of his fights in the past to know that when he gets pissed, he becomes sloppy.
He enters the ropes, glowering at me like he’s Billy Bad Ass. I pop my mouthpiece back between my teeth, then point at him. I follow it up with the hand motion of him sucking my dick. The audience is filled with laughter, hoots, and lewd suggestions. The embarrassment is enough to light a premature fire under the guy's ass. He charges me before the nominated refs ever have the chance to officially start the fight.
I watch him run at me, a man possessed as I stand, loose but stoic at the same time. It’s a fighter thing, you always have to be limber and light on your feet. I’m big enough, I can count on my strength to help counteract his charge and keep my balance. As soon as he’s close enough, I strike.
I hit him with a solid punch, my full body behind it as I lean into the hit, clocking him right in the temple. He goes down like a sack of potatoes. The room is completely silent for a beat as everyone holds their breath, waiting to see if he gets up.
He doesn’t move, and then the nightclub is overcome with the roar of everyone’s excitement. A beat later, my name carries through the air once more, “‘House! ‘House! Power-House!” I just won my club a lot of money, but not only that, I’ll makeenough to get Raven the medical help she needs, should she choose to use it.
Releasing a relieved breath, I stick my mouthpiece in my waistband and offer a wide, pleased smile. The refs move to stand on either side of me, raising both of my hands. A new round of cheers rings out, the place damn near echoing with everyone’s enthusiasm.
Prez immediately escorts Raven to my side, and I couldn’t be happier to see her proud, smiling face. “Thanks for looking out for her,” I say as I drape my arm over her shoulder. She’s so tiny next to me, and it seems even more prominent after I’m all puffed up and swollen from fighting. My muscles are still wound tight, ready in case there happens to be another threat.
“Anytime, brother.” He nods and watches as I stroll to the back with my woman, ready to use up my lingering adrenaline by hearing Raven scream my name in pleasure.
I need a shower and to fuck the woman I love. Then it’s back to business. I have someone important waiting for me at the club, and I plan to take my time getting the other thing I want. Vengeance.
Chapter Sixteen
Powerhouse
Once Raven’s fallen asleep and I know she’s safe and sound under my comforter in my room, I decide it’s time. It’s been hard to wait and attempt to be patient, but I had to make absolute certain she wouldn’t find out about what I’m going to do tonight. The fight was one thing, but add torture into the mix, and she may not find me so redeemable, no matter how badly I want to be, for her.
She may believe she’s moved on and forgiven her old dance partner, but I can see the pain in her eyes. I can feel the fear in her heart. She’s not at peace, not while he still haunts her, whether she wants to admit it or not. It’s okay, she doesn’t have to, because I’ll take care of it for her. I never want to see her the way she was on my bike that day as we passed the dance studio, so broken and pale. It terrified me, and I can only imaginehow she was feeling inside.Broken and hopeless, if I had to speculate.
Angel leads the way through the basement until he’s finally pushing aside the heavy secret door we have underneath the clubhouse. It looks like another wall, a dead-end at the end of a hallway in our basement, but it’s much more. Once we’ve made it inside the false door, we close it behind us and stop at another. This one is much stronger, made from iron. He keys the club code we all have into the keypad, and the lock clicks, allowing us to enter.
We step inside, the soundproof insulation worked so well moments before that I could hear nothing outside, but in here? The dancer’s screams easily find my ears. Angel casts a glance back at me, brow raised. He’s silently saying,see, told you he’s a scared little shit. Not that I doubted him, he’d have to be a cocky SOB thinking he’s untouchable after getting away with hurting Raven.
This is where Ripper had us keep our stash for the longest time. Drugs, guns, you name it, and it was here. We had some in a locked room upstairs, but once Blow made his woman an ol’ lady, everything had to change. We don’t have anything here on the property with us anymore. Blow’s woman, Sydney, is too deep in with the cops, so just in case shit hits the fan, we’ve moved everything to a new location. It’s opened up some space, so the room upstairs now belongs to Richardson. This one is for whatever we need it to be, and right now it’s a holding cell.
“Please!” The man in the dark gasps, already begging. Angel didn’t even leave a light on down here, so the guy probably thought he was going to rot all alone in darkness forever. He’d be right, but he’s not going to be buried here. I’ll toss him somewhere else for that.
“Begging is useless,” I mutter in more of a growl.
Angel flicks on the light, and when the little man sees me for the first time, taking in my size and fury, he gasps in fear.
“Good, you’re scared. As you should be.” I comment, turning off the flashlight on my phone before tucking it away in the inside pocket of my cut. “You fucked with the wrong person this time, twinkle toes.”
“I don’t even know you guys,” Twinkle Toes says, his worried stare pinging between me and my brother.
“I heard a really fucked up story, you see. One where you had a chance to dance with the best, a woman so good she was cast for multiple roles. Instead of treating it like a gift, you stole her fucking career.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s shaking his head, already trembling, and I haven’t even touched him yet. I can understand why, I tower over him by a good foot and am more foreboding with him sitting down before me. Right now, I probably look like I’m the biggest motherfucker he’s ever seen before.
“Oh no? You sure about that because if you’renot talking, you havenouse to me.” I nod to Angel, “Or him. If you have no use to either of us, then there is no reason for you to keep breathing.” I step closer, unsnapping the large hunting knife I always have looped on my belt for situations like this one.
