Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
BETH
I lay on the floor, still completely naked, watching Nigel look over something on his phone. I’m a little distracted by his half-naked body. It’s so weird that he never took off his shirt when we had sex. Shawn always had to disrobe completely, or else he wasn’t comfortable. It’s nice to see that Nigel doesn’t have that affliction because, goddamn, there’s something about a man just sitting there in only a black t-shirt that does things to my body.
I want him again, but I’m fine with letting this desire stew a bit. The anticipation is what really gets me, much like with him chasing me.
He brought me to his childhood home, finally convinced me to be his, chased me around the house, and fucked me raw.
“What is it?” I ask as I prop my head on my hand, watching his icy blues flash across his phone screen.
His gaze snaps to mine, and the look in his eyes when they meet mine can only be described in one word.
Love.
And that’s insane. It's too soon for that, but I won’t let my fear of it control me anymore.
“I have somewhere I have to be. Do you want to come with me?”
Since the only other option is him dropping me off with the preacher, I don’t have any other choice.
“Sure. Where are we going?”
He hands over my clothes, and I dress quickly, watching how he pulls his jeans back on and over that fine ass of his.
This man is all mine, and excitement bubbles in my belly at the thought. Not in a carnal way, but something much more taboo to me.
I want him all to myself. I don’t want other girls looking at him the way I am or touching him the way I did for over an hour. I want Nigel to keep looking at me the way he does and never stop.
Never.
Forever.
Both are such permanent words, yet I don’t fear them right now.
Maybe I will later when the high of all of this fades, but I’m going to enjoy it for as long as I can.
Nigel takes my hand and guides me out of the room, out of the house, and back to his truck before driving us off the isolated property.
* * *
Nigel brings us to an abandoned building on the outskirts of Grove Hill. I expected the street and the parking lot outside to be empty, but it's filled to the brim. Nigel is lucky there’s a space for his truck, but when I see Ronan and Judy, I realize they must’ve saved him a spot.
“What are we doing here?” I ask, flabbergasted by this entire thing.
“I was called in for a match,” he explains with a grin.
I’ve never been to a boxing match, and it seems fitting that my first match should be one where Nigel is fighting. I know I’ll be frightened the whole time that he’ll take a fatal hit, but at least I’m here. If something happens, I can go with him to the hospital and be there for him.
“Won’t me being here affect your…performance?”
I’ve heard that it's bad luck for loved ones to attend fights because their presence is distracting. I want to witness his fight, but I don’t want him to think about anything other than what’s happening inside the ring. I don’t want to risk his focus or his life.
“Not at all. Well, maybe a bit, but not in a negative way.” He flashes me his brilliant smile before leaning over the seat and kissing my cheek. “I have to impress you somehow. Maybe kicking this dick’s ass will do it.”
“Well, who are you fighting?”
He groans. “A rich douchebag who can’t accept that he can’t beat me. I’ve fought him a dozen times, and honestly, I don’t like doing it. It’s an easy match, but it's good money. A lot of people want to see this idiot get his ass handed to him. He has a lot of enemies.” He shrugs. “His ring name is Money Bags, but his real name is Martin Gray.”
Gray? Isn’t that the family that basically owns this town? If so, I hope Nigel knocks his teeth in. I bet he’s just as slimy as Judy described his whole family.
“And what’s your ring name?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
He grins with pride. “The Nightmare.”
“Wait, seriously? The Nightmare?” I almost laugh but really, it fits. I wouldn’t ever want to fight him, but I bet he would haunt my dreams if I did.
“Yup. You’ll get it.”
We climb out of his truck, and he meets me at the front before wrapping his arm around my waist, throwing a bag he must’ve grabbed from the truck over his shoulder.
“How much time do we have?” Nigel asks, but Judy and Ronan gawk at us, their eyes latched onto where Nigel is touching me, and I’m not pushing him away.
I know. It’s shocking, but this feels right—us being out together as a couple.
It’s been almost eleven months since Shawn died and that’s more time than we were together. It’s time that I move on from him and this fear his death gave me.
“Dudes…time.” I snap my fingers at them, and they seem to snap out of it.
“Ten minutes,” Ronan responds, and Judy winks at me knowingly. She’s not nearly as shocked as her partner-in-crime, especially considering this is the exact opposite of what we discussed earlier. It might seem wishy-washy from her perspective, but she’s not judging me. If anything, she seems proud of me for making this jump.
Now that I’m actually with Nigel, instead of fighting him on his claim over me, I feel free, and I’m a little proud of myself too. Taking the plunge and accepting this was scary, but I think I can handle it. Heck, if Nigel can handle my chase kink, I’m sure I can handle anything he throws at me.
“That’s plenty of time.” Nigel scoffs before taking my hand and leading me to the front door. There’s security standing guard at the door, but with one look at Nigel, they let all of us pass without question.
He must be a big deal for them to just turn their head at his arrival and let him do whatever the hell he wants.
Then, a thought occurs to me. What kind of boxing match is this if it’s not happening in an actual arena?
It’s an illegal boxing match. This isn’t a sanctioned event. I’m not supposed to be here and I doubt Judy is either. Anyone present could be arrested just for attending.
Being with Nigel means witnessing a lot of illegal shit, but I didn’t expect it to start this quickly. I mean, I smoke weed and drink like most teenagers, but most teens aren’t involved in this level of stuff. Nigel and his friends are vigilantes. Sure, they only hurt bad people, but that doesn’t involve me. This involves me.
I squeeze his hand for support as we enter an open floor plan room with cement floors and pillars separating the participants from the spectators. In the middle of the room are two bare-chested men in boxing shorts with tape wrapped around their bare hands, pummeling each other until their hands are stumps.
“I’ve gotta get ready. Stay with Judy,” Nigel suggests before pulling me into him and giving me an intense kiss that has my toes curling.
“Got it,” I say as he releases me, giving me that damn smile.
“So, you two are…” Judy gives me a suggestive wink.
“Shut up.”
She laughs before looping her arm through mine. “Stick with me, Mercer. These crowds can get a little crazy.”
I believe it. The entire place seems packed tight, which is insane given its size. The amount of people lessens the further we get from the inner circle, but it's still a squeeze.
Judy leads me to a makeshift bar giving out free beers, but the one running the show is busy with others.
“You really gotta yell or flash him to get his attention,” a blonde guy beside me says with a smile. His oceanic blue eyes shine with joy in a way that gives me pause. Something about him is…familiar, but I have to admit, he is smoking hot from his debonair smile to the way his dirty blonde hair falls in his face. He even has a light stubble along his jawline. His eyes remain focused on mine as if he's waiting for me to say something, but my dumbass is too busy staring at him.
Idiot.
I can’t help laughing. “He’s shit out of luck there.”
I almost brush off the flirtation as I turn my gaze away from the handsome stranger, but then the unmistakable sensation of someone squeezing my ass hits me and I’m stunned for a second.
What the fuck?
I snap my head back around to the guy beside me.
“Did you seriously just grab my ass?” I hiss at him, ready to kick him in the balls. He deserves the same treatment as Jordan for that move.
“Yeah, I did. Take it as a compliment, Beth. You have an incredible ass.” He’s not even slightly ashamed of his behavior. His response makes me freeze. How the hell does he know my name? No one has said it since I arrived. Do I know him from somewhere and just not remember?
“Um, excuse me? You don’t get to talk to me like that. Where the hell do you get off?”
“Hopefully, inside you by the end of the night.” He winks at me flirtatiously, and I almost slap him, but then Ronan and Judy are by my side.
“Leave her the fuck alone,” Ronan warns as Judy grabs my arm, but I’m not running away. Screw this asshole.
“Why? She your girl, Walsh?” The jerk has the gall to smirk like he owns the place.
“No, that would be me, dipstick,” Judy sneers protectively. “You better watch yourself. You’re about to step into the ring with her boyfriend.”
We haven’t had the official talk yet, but I think boyfriend is a pretty good term to use to get the point across. I’m taken. Even if I weren’t, I’d rather run into a burning building than screw this douche even if he is a ridiculously hot douche.
“Seriously?” His eyes widen, and he laughs, clutching his stomach. “I didn’t think O’Reilly was the settling down type. Aren’t you and your boys trying to screw your way through this town, Walsh?” The debonair smile on his face never leaves. “I get it. I’m all for sex-positivity and this pit stop makes sense.” Then, his eyes rake up and down my body like he wants to devour me whole. “If you ever get tired of slumming it with O’Reilly, my bed is plenty comfy, Miss Mercer.” He winks at me again before turning and whistling as he leaves.
How the fuck does he know not only my first name but my last name as well? Is he a stalker or something?
“That’s the douchebag Nigel is supposed to be fighting?” I ask, completely stunned by the whole exchange.
“Martin Gray, yeah.”
I can’t wait for Nigel to kick his ass. He deserves it for how he grabbed my butt against my will.
“He better keep his distance from me, or I’ll hurt him,” I say, my hands balled into fists. I’m so pissed.
“What started all that?” Ronan presses as he hands me a beer.
“That douchebag grabbed my ass, like no holding back grabbed it.” I make the motion with my hand to emphasize my point, and Ronan visibly pales.
“What?” Judy’s eyes are so wide I wonder if they’ll actually pop out of their sockets. “Are you okay?”
“Other than being mad at his audacity, I’m fine. I just hate assholes like that.”
“Trust me. Everyone hates Martin Gray. He’s simply tolerated because he’s the eldest Gray son,” she says as she rubs my arm comfortingly.
“Martin is just the bad apple. Michael is a good guy. He’s the one who trained Nigel.”
Two questions run through my mind at Ronan’s explanation. How did Nigel get to train with this Michael guy, and why wasn’t he training his brother? But I don’t have the chance to ask before Ronan adds to his previous thought.
“Don’t tell Nigel what just happened.”
My eyes widen in shock. “Why not?” Ronan is Nigel’s friend. They’ve been close their entire lives, and he wants me to lie to Nigel for some reason.
“Because if you do, he’ll kill Martin. That will put everyone in a bad situation.”
They have their rules and one is not to kill people, but if Judy said they are vigilantes, wouldn’t Nigel be exempt from that rule?
I don't want him to be put in harm’s way because of me. If that’s what Ronan is referring to, I don’t want to take the chance.
“Butterfly.” Warm arms wrap around me from behind, and I nearly jump out of my skin from the unexpected touch, but I don’t whirl around because only one person calls me that.
“Hey. That was quick.” I turn and lose myself in those captivating eyes as they stare down at me with affection thick in them. A pleasant buzz settles through my body, and I know it's not from the beer in my hands.
“It’s not my first rodeo,” he jokes.
My eyes fall down his exposed torso and settle on something just below his navel.
A small blue butterfly tattoo, shining from how fresh it is, peaks above the hem of his shorts, and my heart races.
He told me weeks ago that tattoos should have meaning, and that’s why he didn’t have any, so this piece of ink, however small, says a lot.
I mean something to him. I’m his butterfly, and he has me inked on his skin.
Tears prick the backs of my eyes, but I hold them in. I can’t cry right now, even if this is the most romantic gesture anyone has ever given me.
At least it’s not my name, just something symbolic.
When my eyes meet his, Nigel gives me an all-knowing smirk, trailing his fingers along my jaw.
“When did you get that?” I ask, redness filling my cheeks.
“Right before I picked you up.”
I’m such a damn sap. I can’t get over what he did. If it were any other guy, I would tell him he’s insane, but I know Nigel thought this through before he committed to it.
I reach up onto the tips of my toes and kiss his lips, one I know pushes this further than it should be at this point.
I shouldn’t feel so many things concerning Nigel. Maybe it’s lust, but I don’t think so. That was all Shawn and I had, but this…is different.
“Come on, butterfly,” Nigel rasps as he pulls out of the kiss and grabs my hand, pulling me along with him.
Judy’s fingers wrap around my other wrist so she can follow me. Nigel pulls us through the throngs of people and we break through just as one of the men in the circle in the middle of the room falls on his face, out for the count. My eyes widen as the other man cheers, screaming for his victory. Sweat and blood trickle down his body as the referee helps his fallen adversary, who is still out cold. The ref hands him off to someone who has to be one of his friends as the champion hurries out of the circle, probably intent on a drink to celebrate.
Across the inner circle, Martin Gray steps through the crowd, his greenish blue eyes full of dark intent as they hone in on me. Not Nigel, but me.
“Kick his ass,” I say as Judy and Ronan move to my side, offering their support. Judy may have a vague idea of how nerve-racking this is for me, but no one fully understands. I’ve already lost one boyfriend to a sudden death. I’m not ready to lose another.
Just as Nigel walks into the circle chalked onto the cement, Martin looks me up and down flirtatiously, knowing that Nigel can see what he’s doing.
“Your girl is a hot piece of ass. What I wouldn’t do to take a big bite out of her tits.”
My heart slams into my stomach as his words sink in. Does this fucker have a death wish? Nigel has proven how territorial he is over me, and this idiot just openly ogled me in front of Nigel.
“Don’t look at my woman, Gray,” Nigel growls his warning as his fists clench in anger.
“Come on, man. You know I’m just playing with you,” he laughs, but then the playfulness leaves his expression. “Why would I need a bite of her when I’ve already had a nice handful of that delicious ass?”
I think Judy, Ronan, and myself stop breathing as my fingers dig into Judy’s wrist, fear gripping me. I did precisely what Ronan told me to. I didn’t tell Nigel, but it didn’t matter because Martin just did.
“He’s tuning him out,” Ronan says as the voices around us boom, demanding blood. “This is what Gray does. He tries to make his opponents lose focus, but Nigel doesn’t listen. He can’t break his focus.”
The ref blows a whistle and that seems to get Nigel moving despite the vulgar things Martin is throwing at him. My fingers tremble with anxiety as Nigel walks further into the circle, cracking his knuckles.
“This is not a match to the death, gentleman. The match ends when one of your knees hits the ground. The one left standing will be the champion. No crotch shots. Understood?”
Nigel doesn’t acknowledge the referee, but Martin nods, with a menacing look.
If Nigel wasn't watching, I doubt the prick would've done it or maybe he would've.
Nigel’s back tenses in anger. He may not be listening, but he definitely saw that.
The referee barely drops the cloth to signal the official start of the match before Nigel takes two long strides over to Martin and slams his fist into his gut–a single hit.
And Martin Gray, the prick, drops to his knees, ending the match barely after it has begun.
That was anticlimactic as fuck.
The crowd cheers at Nigel’s victory, but Nigel looks pissed when his eyes meet mine. I’m not self-conscious enough to think he’s pissed at me. He’s struggling not to pummel Martin into the ground, but considering the match is over, I have no idea if he would be able to do that and not go to jail. This is already an illegal match, and I doubt Martin is so stupid to incriminate himself by filing charges against Nigel.
Still, I plead with Nigel with my eyes, begging him not to do something stupid. I understand that he’s extremely possessive and territorial over me, but how could he expect me to open myself up to him if he does something that could easily get him taken away from me so soon?
He turns back to Martin, even as people cheer for him, and squats down to the loser’s level. He says something to him, something possibly threatening, but then Nigel stands to his feet, turns and heads straight for me.
I open my mouth to speak and explain what happened with Martin, but I can’t get the words out before he charges past me, his shoulder barely touching my own as he moves.
“Fuck,” Ronan groans as he turns to me, an apology clear in his eyes. “I’ll talk to him, okay?”
I nod, knowing that shoving it in Ronan’s face about how this is his fault won’t help. As a matter of fact, it would probably make everything worse.
I didn’t do anything wrong. I did what Nigel and Ronan told me to do. Somehow, I feel like I’m the fuck up here, even though I know that’s ridiculous.