TWENTY-ONE
The stench of blood,sweat, and greed fills the warehouse tonight. It’s fuckin’ unsettling. I glance down at Echo, who is looking around with curious eyes. No doubt this is a different experience for her than it was the first time when she’d had the surprise of her life to discover she was my cage girl. I’d been so out of my head with the idea she was the root of all my problems that I’d been a real dick to her. Funny how life can change on a dime. I reach for her hand, determined to keep her near me. This place is a fuckin’ zoo tonight. I trust no one.
I figure I’ll make sure I don’t see anything out of the ordinary since Beckham volunteered to stay back with Wilder in his dressing room before the fight. Our fighter is desperately trying to get his head straight. If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that going into the ring with Bear without a clear mind and plan of attack could turn into a huge disaster. I feel for Wilder because while we’d all been fucking thrown off this afternoon—by Megan’s disappearance from prison, by my slim escape from becoming roadkill, and by River’s appearance on our doorstep—Wilder is the only one who has to truly be “on” tonight. The rest of us simply have to keep our eyes open and give him the support he needs.
This storm we’ve found ourselves at the center of is calm for the moment. I’d ask what else could possibly go fucking wrong, but that seems like daring the squall to fucking rage at us; to spew its wrath in the form of who knows what sort of torture or misery. I grit my teeth, glancing around the packed warehouse. I’m fully aware that coming here tonight could be a big mistake, but to withdraw from fight night is a pretty fucking big deal. I eye the OG Bastards of Bainbridge Hall—two of them, anyway. Derek Pierce and Tristan Valentine are sketchy at best, but I don’t think I’m crazy to think they have their hands in every dirty pot in this town. Illegal gambling, obviously. Drugs? Likely. And who knows what else. I wouldn’t put anything past them. At that thought, my hold on Echo’s hand tightens.
She glances up at me, a curious frown on her face. “Something wrong?” she whispers. “I’m just glad to not have to get my boobs out for this audience. Did you notice all the SIN guys are here tonight? They’re acting like animals over there.”
I huff out a laugh. “No. I’m good, even if someone did try to kill me today. It’d make me less anxious if you’d stay close to me, though.” She nods, stealthily shifting her eyes to check out the entire area around us without letting on that she’s doing so. Smart girl.
Thank fuck Echo’s not our cage girl. That job’s for some random chick. The people in charge of setting up fights assign them to the fighters, and they must have sourced Wilder’s from another sorority since TZE is still grieving the loss of Freya and chose not to send anyone tonight. I respect that. And we sure as fuck didn’t need this apeshit crowd ogling Echo, so that wasn’t ever an option. She’s our girl, not for anyone else’s eyes but Beckham’s, Wilder’s, and my own.
Echo’s presence certainly didn’t stop this Madison girl from openly trying to cozy up to Wilder. The look on her face when he gave her the brush-off had been amusing. She’d been miffed about it, so very clearly having it in her head that she was going to sink her teeth into some Wilder meat tonight. I hate to tell her, but there are three people in line in front of her. An amused smirk pulls at my lips, remembering some of the highlights of the night he and I spent together. Nope, Man-Hungry Madison never stood a chance, but it remains to be seen whether she’ll try to cause trouble because of Wilder’s lack of interest in her or if she’ll simply flaunt her stuff for the crowd to reel in some other guy and forget about getting with Wild Man Emory.
Choosing to ignore our scantily-clad cage girl so she doesn’t get any ideas, I scan the crowd for anyone who seems out of place while rotating my shoulder in its socket, checking it again. At a jab of pain, I suck in air between clenched teeth. My brief stint as a dive-rolling stuntman this afternoon comes back to haunt me. I had no other choice, and I’m going to be really fucking sore tomorrow. But it’s fine. I’m alive.
From the side of my mouth, I murmur, “Wilder’s on edge and ragey. I think that’ll probably help him tonight. As long as he can focus on keeping his face out of Bear’s reach.”
“You might be right.” Echo nods, eyes darting toward the hallway where the dressing rooms for the fighters are located. “Will he be out soon?”
We’re currently in the intermission period between the fights. “Yep. Should see both fighters soon. Do you want to walk around before everything gets going? I want to get a look at who’s here. Eyes wide open.”
Her gaze locks with mine, and she gives the barest nod. She’s taken today’s events in stride, which pains me. This girl is far too used to shitty things happening, and that pisses me off. It shouldn’t be this way. She should be enjoying her first semester of college. My jaw works to the side. Definitely shouldn’t have to worry that she’s in harm’s way, or worse, that our child is. Regret for how I treated her when I became aware of her presence reaches out and hits me square on the jaw. I’ll probably always feel bad about it. I draw in a cleansing breath. It’ll be okay. I’ll make it up to both of them.
As we circle to the other side of the ring, she tugs on my hand. “Hey, did Beckham say anything more to you about the Megan situation? He’s hiding it well, but he’s pretty upset.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek for a second, thinking back to the short conversation we’d had earlier while Wilder and Echo had been taking care of River. “I asked him if he had any idea where she would have gone, but he didn’t say much. But he seems really fucking unnerved.”
“Could she have been the one to sneak in and put all those images up? If so… sick.”
“Yeah, well, there are all sorts of sick people in this world.” We pause near Bear’s side of the ring, not too far away from where his dad is seated. He’s speaking in low tones, but some of what he’s saying is carrying. I turn my back so it’s not apparent I’m listening. My brow furrows as I hear him say something about a “sure thing.” My interest is definitely piqued. Echo frowns up at me, but I jerk my head ever so slightly. “One sec,” I mouth.
She eases to the side to sneak a peek around me, then moves back, settling her hands on either side of my torso. Faintly, Derek’s whispered words drift to me. “I bet an enormous amount…” I shift my position in time to catch the asshole lift his brows before glancing at the signage that announces the contenders in the big fight. He juts his chin toward…
Wilder’s name.
Not Bear’s.
He’s betting against his own son.
I blink, my lips pressing together as I attempt to sort that fucking weird logic in my head. What a dick—that’s my knee-jerk response. Echo looks equally confused. Rubbing my hand down over my lower face, I consider my options because that slimy motherfucker has gotta know something. Bear doesn’t lose. So, for his father to be betting against him, something’s gotta be wrong.
With River showing up battered and bruised earlier, there has never been a more prudent time for me to give this a shot. I lost my fight. But I’m not losing this time. Chewing thoughtfully on my lip, I put an arm around Echo and slowly move toward the back hallway where there’s an ATM on the end.
“What are we doing?” Echo breathes out, concern slipping over her features.
“I was planning on placing a small bet on Wilder tonight. I’ve never bet before. And I wouldn’t ever bet against him. Because I’m not an asshole. But now, I’ve changed my mind.”
“But you just said you wouldn’t ever bet against him,” Echo hisses low, confusion marring her pretty features.
“You’re misunderstanding me. I haven’t changed my mind about who to bet on. I’m increasing my planned bet.” When I tap in the amount, Echo’s eyes bug out.
“I didn’t know you could withdraw that much at a time.”
I shrug. “This town is run by a bunch of lawless bastards. Of course they have it set up that the ATM here has a stupid-high maximum withdrawal.”
She shakes her head, her brow furrowing. “So, does that mean the authorities do or don’t have any idea what’s happening here?” Her jaw snaps shut, and she rolls her eyes at herself. “Never mind. I get it. They’re all corrupt.”
I tap her nose with my finger. “Bingo, princess. We’re going to take advantage of it right now. Come on.” We hurry over to the line at the betting window. Fortunately, it moves quickly, as we have very little time left before they announce the fighters. I don’t want Wilder to know what I’ve done before he fights. Fuck, if he loses, I’ll never tell him. It won’t matter. But if he comes through, the money will more than make up for what I lost last week.
We reach the front of the line, and I pull my wallet from my pocket. With my heart racing, I lay a full $3500 on the counter—the $500 I was planning to bet, plus the $3000 I was able to withdraw. If ever there was a time to bet heavily on my friend, this is it. We’ll hope like fuck it pays off.
The guy keeping the books hands me a receipt, and I tuck it into my wallet. We step to the side just as they announce the five-minute warning before the fight, requesting everyone to take their seats. The guy pulls the betting window closed with a resounding thump.
Bear and Wilder still have yet to emerge from the dressing rooms, so my eyes flick to the OG Bastards again. I don’t trust them. I recognize the cage girl standing near them as another sorority girl named Morgan. She’s something else, purposely showing off her assets to the assholes in charge. I’d be interested in knowing whether she prefers Bear or his daddy because she sure is giving Derek an eyeful of her tits at the moment. Pulling my attention away from them, I duck my head, speaking right next to Echo’s ear so she can hear me over the boisterous noise of the crowd. “I think we should get over to the bench. They’ll be out soon.” She nods in agreement, and I tuck my arm around her to guide her through all the obnoxious fight night fans, but it’s ridiculous. There’s a raucous energy to this crowd that doesn’t bode well.
We’re finally passing behind the OG Bastards on our way to Wilder’s bench when Tristan grumbles to Derek, “Who the fuck was responsible for that shit show? Because that isn’t the way the auction was supposed to have gone down.” He must assume no one is paying attention or simply doesn’t care who overhears.
Either way, once again, I’m listening. I don’t know jack shit about any auction, but Derek holds up a hand and growls, “We’ll figure something else out. Don’t worry. We’ll have her so fucked in the head she’ll never remember anything.”
Tristan speaks quickly behind his hand as he shrugs at his friend. “Yeah, you’re right. Besides, I’ve got her convinced she’s half crazy. And she knows I’ll send her to a psych ward if she doesn’t stop sleepwalking. She’s not going to last much longer. And if she starts to catch on, we’ll just make her disappear, whether through our regular channels or otherwise.”
My heart rate speeds up. What the fucking hell is that about? Whatever it was didn’t sound good. We’ve just edged past them when I spot Wilder coming down the hall with Beckham. Bear is right behind them, alone for now, but he won’t be for long. His guys have to be here somewhere.
A startled cry from Echo has me jerking to a stop. None other than Derek Pierce has turned around, his lips twitching. She’s staring at him, her wrist held in her hand, like he grabbed at her. What the fuck? I put my hands on her shoulders to pull her back against me, but she quickly lifts one hand to stop me. Over the din of the crowd cheering as the contenders enter the room, I can’t make out what Derek says, but he’s leering at Echo in a way that has my skin prickling.
She scowls at him, her face a mixture of white-hot anger, revulsion, and disdain. “I’m sorry, do you want to repeat that?” she shouts over the pandemonium erupting around us.
He smirks, eyeing her up and down. “I think you got the gist of it, pretty thing.”
My blood leaps to a boil in a split second because this time, I did hear him. I shout into his face, “What the fuck did you just say to her?” This is not the time or place to get into it with one of the most powerful men in this town, but I will defend Echo to the ends of this earth.
He ignores me, instead aiming his beady, lust-filled gaze at Echo. “Pretty thing, where do you think your daddy’s income actually came from?” He huffs out a disturbing chuckle, his broad chest bouncing. “Certainly not that piece of shit company he ran as a cover.” Derek’s brow raises as fury radiates from Echo’s shaking body.
“I’m sorry, sir, but what the fuck do you know about my father?”
My chest is absolutely heaving with the need to punch him in his curled lip. A company ran as a cover? What the fuck?
Standing, Derek towers over Echo as his lecherous eyes roam over her once again. He’s a big fucker, just like his son. He shoots her a secret smile. “More than you do, sweetheart, more than you.”
I see red, but I’m also scrambling to understand what the hell is happening. I grit my teeth. I’m inches from lunging at him when Echo whirls around and throws herself against me. Her body language says she’s angry enough to spit nails. Eyes boring into mine, she gives a vehement shake of her head. “No, Royal, don’t. It’s what he wants.”
“Smart little bitch you’ve got there, Royal.” He walks off, leaving us with our mouths hanging open.
She turns to me, shock and disgust and confusion coating her features, but I move her away from the area, as that skeevy asshole Tristan remains in his seat, watching our reactions like we’re part of some reality TV show.
By the time we get to Wilder’s bench, my face is hot with undiffused anger. Echo’s tucked against my side, and I feel every tremble of her body, every disturbed twitch and quake. Each breath she takes is ragged, I can tell by her unfocused gaze that she’s deep in her head, thinking about every word Derek said to her. Fuck. I wish I had heard the first bit because I can’t tell which was worse, that or the shit he seemed to know about her dead father. Beckham and Wilder reach us only a moment later, take one look, and pull the four of us into a tight huddle.
“What happened?” Wilder spits. “I see it all over your faces.”
I glance at Echo who gathers herself enough to shoot me a silent plea not to say anything. I work my jaw for a second, but nod. Fucked if I’m going to let this affect the fight. “We’re fine. It’s nothing that can’t wait. You just fucking fight, you hear me?” I reach for Wilder, gripping the back of his neck in my hand, my eyes piercing his. “You can beat him.” I give his neck a squeeze before releasing him, my breath coming fast and shallow.
“Fuck yes you can,” Beckham affirms, glancing over his shoulder at Bear. “He’s a big bastard but even the biggest, scariest ones have weaknesses. Find it and exploit it. Do what you have to do.” He reaches up, palming the back of Wilder’s head, giving him a rough shake meant to get him riled.
Echo’s eyes have strayed over to the sleazy men across the ring, but she tears them away to focus on Wilder. “Get ready to kick some ass.” She huffs out a breath, then she steps closer, her hands shooting out to lock around his neck and tug his mouth down to hers. She presses a hard kiss there. “You’ve got this. Do it for River.”
Wilder exhales heavily as she releases him, his dark eyes moving toward the cage. With his jaw clenched, he nods, baring his teeth, and puffs out his broad chest and hulking shoulders. I nod, recognizing his cage fighter persona has taken over. This guy is mean. Devious. Deadly. And has every chance at coming out on top tonight, given the rage lighting his eyes.
The crowd only gets louder as the signal comes for the challenging fighter to enter the cage. I drag in a deep breath, eyeing Bear, who is waiting his turn down by the ref. His presence is intimidating, but as I shift to watch my friend, I recognize the ruthlessness in Wilder tonight, which I think is going to play in his favor… because there’s something a little off with Bear. Something about the way he’s warming up, watching Wilder with an apprehensive eye. I can’t recall ever seeing that in him before. My brow furrows, and I work my jaw to the side, glancing toward his crew—Duke and Mason—as they slowly make their way through the crowd with a tall blonde between them. She’s got Bear’s and Duke’s fathers’ attention, that’s for certain, and the way their eyes rove over her makes my stomach curl uncomfortably. I don’t care how important or rich or powerful Derek Pierce and Tristan Valentine are, they’re bad fucking news.
Just then, the rambunctious cheering goes from loud to louder, and I tear my eyes away to watch as the announcer of the fight enters the ring. He does a slow circle, nodding to both contenders before he brings the mic to his mouth. His deep, thunderous voice fills the entire warehouse with excitement. “For our featured fight tonight, we have a special treat for you!” With a wink, he pauses, and the audience goes nuts, jumping out of their seats and punching their arms into the air. “Our challenger is none other than the one and only Wilder ‘Wild Man’ Emory from Sigma Iota Nu! Please give him a warm welcome.” The announcer turns, flourishing his hand toward Wilder.
We rise from the bench in a show of support, and Beckham cups his hands around his mouth. “Let’s go, Wild!”
Between us, Echo follows Wilder with anxious eyes as he puts both arms in the air and jogs around the ring. He makes a running jump at the side of the cage and climbs to the top where he throws a fist up, riling the brothers of SIN. He lets out a booming, savage roar, like a motherfucking lion. I chuckle to myself. Show off. The fight-goers react exactly as expected, on their feet to cheer him on as he feeds into the raw sparks of energy in the room.
As a direct result of the chaos, Echo has visibly tensed. Her hands are folded together and tucked under her chin, her gaze now focused somewhere on the other side of the ring. Sure as fuck, that entitled prick Derek is staring right at her. Almost like he’s taunting her. I draw in a ragged breath, my knuckles turning white as my hands clench into fists. I shoot the asshole a lethal stare.
Just then, Wilder jumps down, and I’m forced to focus on him. Beckham and I immediately step up to the cage, as it’s our habit to give a last-minute pep talk.
I jut my chin at him, raising my brows. “You feel good? Mind clear?”
He nods and gives us a feral grin. “I’m good. Take care of Echo. Something’s bothering her.” His eyes flick toward our girl, who is standing a few paces behind us.
“I know,” I grit out, scowling as I find Derek in the crowd again, sipping an amber-colored beverage in a glass tumbler. His hand is firmly planted on Bear’s cage girl’s ass, his eyes twinkling at me.
Beckham follows the path of my gaze. His voice low, he murmurs, “I saw the two of you talking to Derek Pierce. You looked like you were going to jump him until Echo stopped you.”
“Yeah. And I only heard part of what was said. Whatever I missed, Echo didn’t. And she’s fucking upset about it.” I huff in frustration, gripping the back of my neck and tugging. “Sorry, Wilder. I didn’t want to say anything. It happened right as you were coming out. But maybe this will give you some extra incentive.”
He glances back over his shoulder. “Those bastards are nothing but trouble. Make her tell you what he said.”
I work my jaw to the side. “I’m on it. You just focus on the fight.” I reach for his gloved hand where he grips the cage, grasping it in mine from this side through the metal wire. My eyes pierce his. “I believe in your ability to fuck some shit up tonight.”
Beckham thumps my back as we turn to sit on the bench, then at the last second, turns back and aims his fiery blues at Wilder. “Show them who the better fighter is.”
I narrow my eyes on Derek, and the dick has the nerve to shoot a dirty smile at me. I turn, moving rapidly to Echo, and pull her close to me. “You’re gonna tell me what he said. Now. He doesn’t get to play games with your head.” I edge back far enough to see her face, and note her cheeks flaming red, her eyes awash with disgust.
“He said, ‘If it isn’t Baby Madden’”—she swallows hard, then continues—“‘in the flesh. If your daddy were still alive, how much do you think he’d accept in exchange for letting us tap that fine ass?’”
I blink. Because surely I heard her wrong. Every cell in my body screams at me to go plow my fist into Derek Pierce’s face. “Excuse me, I need to make sure that fucking lecherous old man realizes he can’t just say whatever the fuck he wants.” The volume of my voice is well beyond a whisper, and I’m not sure I give a flying fuck who hears me.
Echo’s hands raise to either side of her head, like she’s trying to hold it on her neck as she stares at me like I’m fucking crazy.
I shake my head, throwing up my arms. “What? Do you seriously think I’ll let that go?” I don’t see it coming when she smacks my arm.
She stares at me, a horrified, wild look in her eyes. “Someone is going to hear you!” she whispers frantically.
Leaning close, I rasp, “You really think I’d let some asshole get away with talking to my woman like that?” I chuckle roughly. “Think again, princess.”