Chapter 13
Bishop
With all that had been going on in my life, I’d almost forgotten about the charity MMA match I’d signed up for before going to prison. When I realized I was going to be able to whale on cops without retribution, I couldn’t banish the smile from my face.
This wasn’t a small event. This annual match pulled in close to a thousand people. We could have sold double that, but the arena could only safely hold that many. One hundred percent of the proceeds collected were donated to a charity that supported children suffering from pediatric cancers. Since one of our Club Brothers had a son who’d been diagnosed with Leukemia a few years ago, we gave back in any way we could, as often as we could. And if punching asshole cops and pretty boy firefighters in the face would benefit kids with cancer, who the fuck was I to say no?
The rest of the Club was downing beers and shots of Jack when I walked into the rec room. I’d just gotten back into town after riding West on Club business. Boy, did it feel great to get on my bike and follow the open road for hours. The silence, fresh air, and long stretches of highway had helped with the cooped-up feeling I couldn’t shake after leaving Cantiville.
Now that I was back though, I was jonesing for Evie hard. I felt fucking starved of her attention and I’d only been gone for three days. Fuck if I wasn’t becoming a goddamned simp for the woman. I called her each night, talking with her for over an hour, then beating off to the thought of her face, tits, and ass, before I went to bed more satisfied than any other time in my life. Yup. I’d entered boyfriend territory, all right, and I didn’t care one fucking bit.
“You ready to kick some pig’s ass?” Reaper asked when I strolled into the room, handing me a bottle of beer.
“Hell yeah.” I grinned, the excitement of ass-whooping LEO equal to Christmas morning to my inner child.
“Bet that cocksucker won’t even last more than a minute with you,” Bomb said, handing me a shot of amber liquid I could only assume was whiskey before I slugged it down and discovered that’s exactly what it was.
“I can’t say I’m not jealous of you tonight, Brother,” German spoke from beside the pool table where he’d been racking a new game. Cici was standing beside him, red solo cup in hand, pretending not to care about our conversation but hanging on every word.
Hammer was in the corner of the room talking with Daniella when he shouted, “Exhibition match or not, I say you knock the fucker out cold for those false charges you served six months for over at Cantiville! Teach him a lesson his body will never recover from, Brother.”
I couldn’t argue with Hammer’s logic. I wanted to unleash on the poor bastard who was getting in the ring with me tonight. As much rage as I had pent up, that asshole didn’t stand a chance once I decided to let it all hang out.
German headed over to the bar to get a drink and Cici casually strolled over to my side. “I bet that cop doesn’t even get one hit in before you knock him out cold,” she began, licking her lips suggestively as her eyes traveled down my body with obvious longing.
“Thanks,” I said, not wanting to be rude, but also not having enough patience, or a buzz, to deal with this conversation right now.
“You’re definitely in top shape, Bishop. The best I’ve ever seen you in,” she continued, laying it on thick.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I eagerly extracted it. Evie must have gotten the text I’d sent her as soon as I’d pulled up to the Clubhouse. Scanning it over, I read that she and the girls would be down soon. Pocketing my cell, I sipped my beer. I couldn’t wait to show my girl her surprise. It was something I knew was going to excite her more than candy or flowers ever could.
“Did you hear what I said, Bishop?” Cici demanded, suddenly annoyed with me.
“Sorry, no,” I replied, my eyes darting up to the entranceway of the room to check if Evie was there yet.
“I said I’ll be rooting for you tonight,” she repeated, pushing out her enhanced chest that was on full display in a one-piece, painted-on, pink bodycon dress that resembled a shiny sheet of latex.
Who the hell else would she be rooting for? I thought with chagrin. The cops? The firefighters? I didn’t doubt for one second that Cici’s loyalties would shift depending on her current motives. They always had, and I was fairly certain, they always would.
I tried not to laugh at her intended compliment and hid my smile behind the neck of my beer. “Thanks, Cici.”
“If you’d like a little pregame action,” she pivoted, licking her lips and running a finger down my midsection, “I can help you out with that. You know how good I can make you feel, Baby.”
I barely heard the rest of her offer. My girl walked into the room then and everyone else faded away. Turning, I nearly had a stroke when I saw what she was wearing.
Fuck me! She had on a pair of micro spandex shorts and a fitted crop top that emphasized her tiny waist and large tits. And, goddamn, was that my name written on the back of her shirt? And our Club name scrolled across her amazing cleavage? I think I’d died and gone to heaven!
Evie’s glorious thick mane was loose down her back. It was done up into beachy waves that kissed each sultry curve of her body as it swayed back and forth when she moved. She, or more likely, my sister, had done her makeup in a bold, sexy style that made her look like a naughty little sex kitten. Her large green eyes radiated up at me and it was all I could do not to fall inside of them and drown in their all-consuming, liquid depths.
Snapping back to reality, I adjusted my hard-on in my jeans and strode over purposefully to my girl. Lifting her into my arms, my mouth ravished hers. Yeah, it was good to be home. There was no doubt about that.
Evie giggled as I pinned her against the wall. “Are you my own personal ring girl, Babe?”
Nodding, Evie bit her bottom lip and said breathily, “Do you like it?”
Did I like it? I ground my throbbing cock between her legs and let her feel exactly how much. “What do you think?”
“I think the outfit was a hit,” she returned with a becoming blush, looping her arms around my neck and rubbing her sex against mine in a teasing back-and-forth motion. Since those tiny Lycra shorts of hers were barely more than panties, I could feel every pornographic inch of her luscious folds sliding across my cock.
I growled low into her neck before giving it a playful nip. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to stop myself if I didn’t get a hold of my raging libido now, I reluctantly let her slide back down to the floor.
“You trying to kill me, woman?” I joked, spinning her around in a complete circle so I could see all of her delectable body up close and personal.
Her eyes sparkled with joy that I liked her outfit so much. Christ! What was not to like? Her every curve and womanly asset was on display, and all for me. I couldn’t wait until I was fighting to watch my woman standing in the crowd, cheering me on. If I didn’t have a boner before, I sure as fuck had one now.
Running my greedy hands up and down her hourglass silhouette, I shook my head. “And to think I have to wait until after the fight to get inside of you.” My fingers flexed and tightened around the nip of her waist. “How much torture can one man be asked to endure?”
Spinning her about, I tossed my arm around her shoulders. Glancing at the clock in the corner of the room, I saw it was almost time to go. All the Devils would be riding over on their bikes to the arena, while the girls would be driving there in one of the Club SUVs chauffeured by a few of the Prospects.
“It’s about that time,” Reaper shouted, his woman Angel tucked protectively in the crook of his arm. “Let’s head on out and show these motherfuckers what it feels like to go toe-to-toe with the Devil’s Riders!”
Everyone shouted and my eyes traveled around the room with pride. They paused on Cici when I felt, then saw, the look of absolute loathing radiating off of her. And her ire wasn’t for me. It was directed fully on Evie.
Pulling my woman closer, I made a mental note to deal with this issue as soon as the fight was over. The last thing I needed was that crazy bitch to make life harder for Evie. If Cici couldn’t accept that we were over, I’d pull rank on her ass and get her banned from the Club permanently. No arguments.
Kissing the top of my girl’s head, I said, “Come on, Babe. Let me get you inside the car so I can have an excuse to feel you up one last time before buckling you in.”
Evie leaned close and whispered, “Only if you let me do the same to you.”
Tossing my girl over my shoulder, I smacked her ass and made good on my promise.
* * *
Louisville, Nevada
Potter’s Arena
Evie
I was so nervous, I could barely contain myself on the ride over to the arena. Even though I wasn’t the one fighting, I felt like a knotted bundle of nerves when I imagined Matty stepping into the ring.
Catching the open look of fear on my face, Amelia snagged my hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “It’ll be okay. I promise. Bishop is an excellent fighter. And it’s only an exhibition match,” she reminded me with a bright smile.
I knew this fight was for charity and wouldn’t be a brutal death match or anything like that, but I still couldn’t shake my fear of watching someone I loved, yes loved, fight.
There was no denying the obvious at this point. I was in love with Matty, and nothing I said or did would change that.
Forcing a brave smile on my face, I followed Angel, Amelia, and the Prospects escorting us into the building where the match was being held. The large stone building looming in front of us was every bit as ominous and foreboding as the event felt in my heart.
When we entered the arena, my panic instantly doubled. Suddenly, I was questioning everything. My clothes. My hair. My makeup, and what I was even doing here with the Club at all.
My friends, feeling my discomfort, each took one of my hands and walked on either side of me for moral support. Grateful for the umpteenth time for their presence, I finally relaxed enough to remember to stand up straight, let go of the tension I was storing in my shoulders, and breathe.
I blushed when a few men in the crowd cat-called us as we walked by. Funny enough, that silly little act was what allowed me to relax the rest of the way. I reprimanded myself for being far too serious. This was not a big deal. Just an exhibition match. What was I worried about?
Boots and the three other Prospects flanking us led us over to the seating reserved for the Devil’s Riders. The police and firefighters had their own sections, and they were filled to the brim just like ours.
The energy in the hall was palpable and contagious. And it didn’t take long for me to catch the fever of excitement coursing through the crowd as people chatted animatedly, roamed freely around the venue, and placed “bets” that would all be later donated to charity after the fights were scored.
As we took our seats, drinks in hand, Angel asked, “Are you ready for this?”
To be honest, I wasn’t. But I sure as hell was about to experience this event one way or another. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I returned, taking a sip of my vodka seltzer for much-needed support while staring hard at the empty ring.
* * *
Bishop
“You ready for this?” German asked me, as he finished taping my hands for the fight.
I grinned with genuine excitement. “I was ready for this match before going to prison. Tonight, I”m fucking chomping at the bit for it!”
Reaper returned my dark smile. “I’m sure you are, Brother. Just do me a favor and don”t kill the pig they stick in the ring with you. We don”t need the death of law enforcement on our hands tonight. At least, not on the record.”
”Roger that,” I returned, as Hawk handed me my mouthguard.
“So you don”t ruin that pretty smile of yours. Your sister will kill me if anything happens to you, man. And I can’t have my woman crying. Especially as good as she looks tonight.”
I nodded and inserted the proffered mouthpiece. I certainly didn”t want to fuck up my teeth, either. I happened to like my smile, and I was guessing Evie did too.
The thought of Evie caused my gut to tighten abruptly. My girl would be watching me tonight, and I wanted to make my woman, along with my Club, proud. Especially after she”d dressed up so prettily for me. Damn, that outfit made me hard. Even now, about to step into the ring, I could feel myself stiffening. If I didn’t get myself in check, I’d have to take a quick ice bath to dampen my excitement before the match.
What turned me on most of all was knowing Evie had dressed up for me. She wasn”t the kind of girl to wear revealing clothes. The fact she’d stepped out of her comfort zone tonight to cheer me and my Club on, turned me into fucking stone.
A man with a walkie-talkie popped into the dressing room then. ”We’re almost ready for you, Mr. Wilmont. Just give us five more minutes and then you can exit out the back door of the locker room that leads to the front lobby. From there, you can enter the hall from the rear and walk down the red carpet.”
Reaper smacked my back hard. “We’d better go take our seats then. I’ll see you out there, killer.”
My Brothers all gave me fist bumps before I waited for everyone to file out of the room. Once alone, I walked over to the sink and splashed cold water on my face. After doing some light stretches, I put up my hood and strode out of the locker room. When the lights dimmed, I knew it was showtime. Stepping onto the red carpet as the announcer called my name, I raised my hands in a traditional boxer stance and began to walk down the red carpet.
* * *
Evie
I was actually enjoying myself as each group of men took the stage. So far I’d seen four fights. Though they weren’t exactly tame, I realized they weren’t as terrifying as I’d imagined, either. Because it was for charity, and not some professional event, the men were generally good about following the rules and taking it easy on one another.
The fifth fight was different. The fifth fight would be between Matty and some cop named Chris Rogers. I’d heard some guys in the crowd talking about Rogers when the girls and I had gone to refill our drinks, and it hadn’t exactly put my mind at ease.
It seemed like Matty and Chris both had a background in MMA and were fairly evenly matched. Though I knew it wasn’t particularly charitable of me, I found myself wishing that Matty had the obvious advantage. I had all the faith in the world in my man. I simply liked the idea of an easy match more than a hard-fought one.
When the lights dimmed, I knew the event was about to begin. That’s when they announced last year’s champion, Chris Rogers, to the arena. The man came down the red carpet, dressed in blue and white shorts that had his district number, seven, printed across the waistband.
Chris was about five-eleven, muscular, and had an air of confidence about himself that let the audience know he believed he was going to win this match. As he strutted down the walkway, the Devil’s Riders booed and shouted unintelligible taunts at the man. He cooly ignored them all as his side cheered him loudly on.
After Chris got into the ring, the announcer introduced Matty. The group of men around me erupted into applause and accolades as their Brother confidently strode down the red carpet. This time it was the cops and firefighters who did the trash-talking. And, to my surprise, they were every bit as good at it as the bikers had been before them.
The minute I saw him, I felt a calm descend over me. It was at that moment, I knew everything was going to be okay. As Matty drew closer to where I was standing, he suddenly stopped, pulled me into his arms, and gave me the most soul-searing, intimate kiss anyone can legally receive in public. In the course of that kiss, my man lifted me off my feet and into his arms. By the time he set me back down, I could barely remember my name or how to breathe properly.
This passionate display set the entire crowd into a frenzied uproar. When I managed to stumble back to my seat, Amelia and Angel were smiling back at me. With cheeks flaming from the very public display, I tried to get the butterflies in my chest back in check.
Matty took the stage like he owned it. Climbing under the ropes, he did a lap, arms held high. When he passed Chris, he gave him a hard stare, letting the man know with a single look that he didn’t stand a chance against this particular opponent.
If my kiss hadn’t triggered the crowd, that one look certainly had. They stomped their feet, hooted, and shouted all manner of depravities. Even the cops’ side of the arena was getting into it. I saw many raised middle fingers and heard so many ribald comments being tossed back and forth that my ears were practically flaming from the mutual insults being exchanged.
Both men took their places and shrugged off their hoods. Of course, I couldn’t take my eyes off Matty. Could anyone blame me? His body was a freaking work of art. We locked eyes as he turned around so I could see his newest artwork inked on his back. To my utter shock, it was my name tattooed straight across his shoulders in bold, capital letters.
“Holy shit!” Amelia uttered beside me, busting out into a full belly laugh. “My brother doesn’t do anything halfway!”
Holy shit was right. I couldn’t believe it. My man had tattooed my name across his entire back! I guess he wanted to prove to me that this wasn’t just a hit-and-run relationship like I kept worrying it was. That he was in it for the long run, and he wanted to prove it to me in a way that only a biker could. Well, mission accomplished. I believed him one-hundred and ten percent now.
I wanted to cry ugly tears of joy, rush the stage, and jump into my man’s arms. But I somehow restrained myself. However, after the fight, I was going to climb that man like he was a goddamned tree for his beautiful, extraordinary gesture!
When Matty turned back around to face me, I knew he was feeling the same powerful emotions that I was. The referee then repeated the rules of the exhibition as he had for the previous two fights, which meant Matty had to shift his focus back to the ring. The two fighters waited for the rules to be laid out before the buzzer was sounded for the match to begin.
As loud as the crowd was, I could barely hear them over the beating of my heart. The men collided, immediately locking up in some gladiator-like embrace. Chris pulled away first. He hustled back, adjusting his approach when he realized he couldn’t overwhelm his opponent with sheer strength alone.
Matty taunted him with his body language, and I’m sure if I was closer and could hear what he was saying, biting words as well.
Chris took the bait and lunged. Matty sidestepped the cop and pulled the man to the ground. Rolling him beneath him, he pinned his opponent quickly, but Rogers managed to wrestle free.
They grappled on the mat for a bit, and Matty once again got the better of Rogers. To my surprise, I saw that the cop, in an attempt to throw off his more skilled opponent, made to knee Matty in the groin.
The men around me booed at the low blow. Matty deflected but had to roll to the side to do it and therefore sacrificed his advantage.
Both men quickly got to their feet and began throwing punches. Because it was an exhibition match, they’d donned thick gloves—about half the size of what boxers wore—to absorb some of the sting of the blow. However, I was certain when Matty’s right hook met Chris’s chin, it hurt far more than the arrogant cop would have liked. Gloves or not.
Rogers stumbled back but quickly rallied. He struck out and managed to clip Matty’s shoulder even though my man had rocked back on the balls of his feet mostly out of reach.
Flagging in stamina, Rogers got desperate and took another cheap shot. This one at Matty’s kidneys. To the awe of the crowd, Matty dodged the blow and then followed up with two more of his own. The hits were so quick and clean, it took Chris’s brain a few seconds to even process what had happened.
Like the giant in the fabled Jack and the Beanstalk tale, Rogers stumbled backward, then toppled to the ground with a startling thud. The crowd was silent for a full second, then absolutely melted down with a roar of excitement. The referee came forward, raised his arms, and announced “Bishop Matthew Wilmont the winner of the fifth annual charity exhibition match”.
Jumping up and down, I screamed my man’s name and hollered right along with the out-of-control crowd. Matty pulled apart the ropes, climbed between them, then jumped onto the floor. Walking right up to me, he snagged me into his arms, tossed me over his shoulder, and carried me straight out of the arena.