Page 27 of The Alpha: Part Two
I hate the smirk on Devon’s face almost as much.
“So, we move him to what I assume is a holding facility. At the docks you control. And we just trust that you won’t move him again after we’re gone?” Nathan asks.
“I won’t move him,” Lopez quietly responds. “I don’t have the answers you’ll need to put a stop to everything. He made sure no one but him knew everything about the operation. You can change the codes, you got in here so you obviously won’t have any trouble changing them. The only way to get into the units is with the codes.”
“Are you currently holding any omegas?” Devon asks, his tone just a breath shy of a threat.
Lopez meets his gaze. “I don’t know. I don’t think so, but Ernesto stopped telling me things a few years ago. I hope there are no omegas on the docks. If there are, we’ll call for medics and get them taken care of.”
“He’s going in the trunk,” I announce darkly. “Just like Michael.”
Lopez nods. “You can follow me, or I can ride with you. Whatever you’re most comfortable with.”
God, I want to be the person behind the wheel so I can sling that motherfucker around and bounce him off every surface of the trunk; but I have to go get Ben and Michael. Right now.
“Alright,” Devon says. “Alex and I will ride with you. Nathan will follow with Desir’ee.”
She looks up at me, even more unimpressed than she was before. “You’re going alone to get Michael and Ben? Absolutely not.”
“I won’t be alone. Go with Nathan and we’ll come get you after. You’ll be safe. It’s going to be alright, I promise.”
~
I look stupid in a ball cap. I have always looked stupid wearing one, even before my hair grew out to the length it is now; but it’s a necessary evil. I’m wearing a stupid, scratchy prosthetic eye, too. The assholes at the door might be looking for a one-eyed redhead, and this is as disguised as I get.
I spot Corso in the crowd almost immediately. Some sort of VIP section with security, a complete bar and more finely tailored suits and diamond encrusted women than I have seen in a long time. He nods to the ring where Kaleb is warming up in his corner with Trent on the outside of the ropes playing the part of his trainer. The announcer is droning on about an alpha from the East Coast coming all the way to the West Coast to embarrass himself. I make my way to the side of the ring and wait for Michael’s entrance. No doubt, they’ll make a big show of it. I hope they do. I won’t be able to slip back to the locker rooms if they don’t.
Lopez said that the twins still go to the locker rooms after fights to shower and get cleaned up. He also said he would send Bryant down to be Michael’s handler. When Desir’ee asked why he couldn’t just call the fight off and have Michael brought to us, Lopez wasn’t happy to explain that Flores’s influence was much heavier than his and he wouldn’t have the authority to do that until people knew Flores was out of the picture. None of us were happy about that after all we had done up to this point. It was never going to be easy, this was par for the course then.
Michael’s entrance music starts blaring from the overhead speakers and the crowd begins cheering. If Michael hears the screams, he doesn’t care about them. There’s no showboating, no gearing up and elevating the energy of the crowd. He just steps through the ropes and sits on an overturned bucket in his corner. I recognise the younger alpha that leans over the top rope to talk to Michael from the meet and greet. He must be Bryant. I can see his lips moving, but I can’t make out what he’s saying.
Michael’s head tilts sharply to one side and he glances at Kaleb before he cranes his neck to look back at Bryant. Bryant nods and I watch Michael’s jaw tick and his eyes narrow. He shakes his head slowly and turns away from Bryant. I hope his hateful ass doesn’t force Kaleb to really knock him out. I need him conscious. I don’t know how Ben might be, but I know we won’t be able to carry both of them out of here.
The referee barks something, Bryant and Trent both step back and hop off of the mat, exchanging a quick look between the ropes. Trent looks behind him and gives me a subtle nod after he finds me in the second row of seats. Then the bell rings.
Michael stands up slowly, clenching his taped fists. Kaleb does the same. They circle each other twice, then Michael tosses out an exploratory jab. Kaleb ducks away from it, smiling at Michael around his bright, blue mouth guard. Michael isn’t wearing a mouth guard. If Kaleb knocks out a tooth, Desir’ee might just kill him.
The fight gets going, both Kaleb and Michael exchanging blows; without it being obvious that Kaleb is just biding time. Michael is becoming frustrated and he flicks occasional glances at Bryant as he and Kaleb move around the mat. With only a few seconds left in the first round, Michael comes out of nowhere with a kick, planting his heel solidly into Kaleb’s jaw. Jarred or not, Kaleb catches Michael’s foot as it’s coming down and jerks his body closer. The crowd cheers so loudly that the sound of the bell is nearly drowned out by their screams.
Kaleb goes to the ground, taking Michael with him. He maneuvers them into a position that allows him to speak into Michael’s ear. Whatever he’s saying has Michael’s eyes wide, and they grow wider when Kaleb shoves his hand in front of his face to show him the cloth wrapped around his knuckles, then the referee comes over to order them apart.
When Michael goes back to his corner, he gives Bryant his full attention, nodding at what he says. When the bell rings again, he goes back to meet Kaleb in the center of the ring and Bryant meets my gaze for half a second before discretely tipping his chin toward the door that leads to the locker rooms. That’s my signal.
I wind my way through the crowd instead of walking down the aisles out in the open. I need to get back there without anyone noticing, especially the men standing in the middle of each row. Lopez said they’re who Flores hires to keep the crowd in order and they’ve been looking out for me for weeks…which is the biggest reason for the hat and the stupid, fucking prosthetic eye.
The locker room is as empty and quiet now as it was the first time I was in it. I won’t sit on the bench to wait this time, though. I pace. I’m going to wear a hole in the floor while I listen to the ups and downs of the crowd as Kaleb and Michael go for an appropriate amount of rounds. Lopez said that most of the bets would be placed on Michael winning because everyone knows what he’s capable of. One of the things Bryant was supposed to do is suggest that it would be a very funny thing if the majority of these assholes lost a lot of money if some random guy from another territory won.
Ben would throw the fight, for sure; but Michael might not like the idea of Kaleb winning. I think if they truly put their minds to it, Michael and Kaleb could very well beat each other to death without either of them realizing it. Hopefully it won’t come to that, though. Desir’ee wouldn’t be impressed. And Talia would fucking kill me.
Finally, after what feels like fucking hours, the crowd goes absolutely wild, which means the fight is over. A few minutes later, the door to the locker room opens and Michael stops two steps into the locker room. He looks at me, and I look at him. Then he stalks across the floor toward me and punches me. I stagger back, and manage to keep my footing, fully expecting to take a beating from him; but instead, we both just stand there watching each other.
Michael finally shakes his head, his mouth pressed into a thin line, then he steps toward me and I brace for his attack. It doesn’t come, though. Michael falls into me, his chest thuddinging against mine as he wraps his arms around me.
He squeezes me so tightly that I can’t catch a full breath and his fist beats against my back with the ferocity of it. Then he’s choking thickly as he fights against the swarm of emotions even I can feel. All I can do is put my arms around him and hold him until he’s able to find calm. This is not the reaction I expected from him. Not by a longshot.
“Do you have her?” he rasps, not letting me go.
“Yes.”
