HerCreed-ARE-epub Read online

  “I couldn’t stay away when I found out what happened here. It’s amazing.”

  She blurted it so quickly, he doubted she’d thought about what was going to come out of her mouth.

  The wonder in her eyes, when she spoke, called to him. It was exactly how he felt about the Rapers, so he had to nip it in the bud, for both their sakes, and get back on track. Which meant he had to get her booted out of the building as fast as possible. He took a couple steps closer until she stiffened and pegged him with that laser focus again. “ID?”

  “Fresh out.” No joking and a whole lotta weary.

  “How much have you seen?”

  She snorted. “Plenty.”

  She looked around his office for the first time, he thought.

  “Can I ask you a question or two before you kick me out?”

  No. “Yes.” What the hell was wrong with him?

  “How do your fighters learn to fight like they do? They’re different than the other groups brought in here.”

  “They’re hungry.”

  “You starve them? Are you fucking with me?”

  “Not literally, and don’t curse. It’s unladylike.”

  Cocking an eyebrow up high enough for it to disappear behind her bangs, she looked behind her on both sides. “I know you didn’t just try to tell me I’m a lady.”

  “You’re a young woman, most definitely a lady, unless you’re packing something extra below the equator I haven’t noticed yet. Plus, Sword didn’t find anything on you when he patted you down, and he would have told me if you were a tranny.”

  “Why?”

  “Why, what?”

  “Why would he have told you that?”

  “Because we have a new TS division about to kick off. It would have been pertinent info. But back to the question at hand. The fighters I train are hungry to win. They want it more than the others. They each have a fire inside them.” A fire he saw in her but didn’t want to acknowledge nor encourage. “The drive they have to win is equal to only one other thing. Can you guess what that thing is?”

  “Sex.”

  No hesitation, and his dick did not jump again. ‘Cause that would be wrong. “You got the topic right, but what about it specifically?”

  Nibbling her bottom lip, she crossed one leg over the other and seemed to be considering her answer.

  He liked that she didn’t just blurt out nonsense. She thought about what she was going to say, which actually made him care what her answer would be. Almost as much as he cared what color her panties were if she were wearing any at all.

  Which he didn’t because again—wrong.

  “Exhibitionists. That’s what they are. Being more than okay to take or be taken in a room full of strangers, fans.”

  “Correct. But why is that important?”

  “Because you can’t check out while it’s happening. The audience will notice. The other fighters will notice, too, and they could use it to their advantage to rattle the other fighter at a later date. If their head isn’t in the game, it could jeopardize the reputation of the owner and the Rapers themselves.”

  Fuck. “Correct.” She’d said it better than he normally did when talking to other people in the same league. Not to mention pitching to his legion of kinky sponsors. And he’d definitely not been so poised at her age. Not that he was that far away from seventeen, being only seven years older than her—if the age she gave him was correct.

  Which he still doubted.

  “So why were you out at,” glancing at his watch, he cursed, knowing he’d missed most of the first fight, “two AM?”

  “Sunday stroll?”

  “It’s not Sunday.”

  “Must have missed flipping a few days on my day planner. My mistake.”

  She was bright, smart. “What’s your story? You’re pretty, seem to have an intact head on your shoulders, don’t seem strung out, but instead of partying with your friends, you’re sneaking in here to watch the fights? There’s more to you than meets the eye, I bet.”

  “The Transformer’s franchise tagline. Nice.”

  “I do my best to educate others among the ways of the cool. Now, quit stalling. Talk and don’t lie.”

  “I don’t lie. It’s unladylike, I’m told.”

  His lips twitched, but he kept the smile in check. He did not need to enjoy verbally sparring with her. So he didn’t. Much.

  Holding up a hand, she started ticking fingers off. “My parents didn’t love me; my teachers didn’t understand me; none of them got their monies’ worth out of my therapy, years ago; puberty is setting me on a path of self-destruction…” She actually rolled her eyes at that one. “And God forbid I actually have a mind I tend to use and speak up for myself. Crazy. I know, I know. Yet, no one can seem to get a handle on my problem. Shocking.”

  The girl had walls and walls up around herself, and he wanted to take them down. Every one of them. She had a look about her. The same look he’d seen on foster kids, and he’d seen a hell of a lot of those, but the look didn’t fit her.

  She just didn’t fit into a category he could place, and he had a hard as hell time walking away from a human Rubix cube. He walked to his mini-fridge and pulled out two water bottles. Handing one over to her, he uncapped his own and leaned against the edge of his desk.

  Studying her, he tried to put a few of her pieces together, but didn’t come up with much. “What school do you go to?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Long story.”

  He hazarded a glance at the clock above the mirror. He didn’t have time. “I’ve got time.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Says who?”

  Nodding in his direction. “You do. You grind your teeth when you’re busy and trying not to show it.”

  He had to relax his jaw. Twice. Something he never let anyone else see. “How do you know I do that?”

  Shrugging seemed her “go to” gesture of non-answer. Or maybe just a delay tactic. “I watch people.”

  “And you watched me?”

  “A bit.”

  Her answers were so vague they did nothing but irritate him—and make him want to know more. “Did you drop out of school?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Do you ever just answer an actual question?”

  “Occasionally.” A mischievous grin lifted the corners of her mouth, but she said no more.

  He had no more real information about her than when he’d stepped into the room, but he did know one thing. She had an old soul. It was all in her eyes. The depths. The pain.

  And they had at least one thing in common.

  A fighter’s spirit. That need to succeed, to be the best—he saw it in her. In the tightness of her jaw facing a bigger opponent. The stubborn set of her shoulders even while she was seated. Her warrior’s spirit was there, simmering below the surface.

  Whether she used her drive to take down her dragons or to simply build walls around herself and shut out the world, he didn’t know.

  “Is this the ‘stay in school and don’t do drugs’ portion of tonight’s event? Cause I’ve heard the speeches and read the pamphlets.”

  Oh. And the attitude of a fighter. She had that, too.

  He’d probably have to shovel it out of his office after he kicked her out.

  “If you think an education is so beneath you, then what do you think is important?”

  “To be the biggest, baddest, strongest chick in the ring so I can fight anybody. Everybody. And win.”

  “You don’t need any of those things.”

  Lifting an eyebrow, she stared at him with a bless-your-little-heart look.

  “I’m not saying some smart fat-ass dude who’s been gorging himself on Ho-Hos and Coke for twenty years could come in and kick ass.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Thank goodness.”

  “What I am saying is, yes, you have to be in good shape. You have to eat right and work out a hell of a lot, but those thin
gs will only get you so far.”

  “And the next step is…”

  She hissed at the last word, and he ground his teeth for a reason other than his busy schedule. “Being smart is what you need. That’s what makes a great fighter. Training, being healthy can only get you to a certain level. Intelligence and cunning are the only two things that make a good fighter a legend.”

  “But part of that still comes down to training.”

  “So you think if I trained you for a year...”

  Her eyes lit up.

  “Which I’m not doing. If I put you in a ring with a dummy and taught you how to move, could you win every match no matter who you fought?”

  “No. Hand-to-hand real fights are the only way to really learn. And,” she got louder as he opened his mouth to cut her off. “Studying your opponents—”

  “Studying. Did you catch that word leaving your mouth?”

  “Yes,” she grumbled.

  “You have to be able to anticipate your opponent’s next move, counter it and gain your advantage. Being smart is everything in this sport. Hell, any sport. Ours just has a very steep learning curve if you fail.”

  “If you’re so smart, why don’t you fight?”

  He chuckled at the question, “A long time ago I fought under the name, The Shadow of Death. Now I’m smart enough to not have to.”

  She relaxed, nodded and grinned. Then she laughed. A true laugh, and it sounded like fairies.

  His cock jerked behind his zipper at the sound of her laugh.

  Oh. Hell. No.

  “And I’m smart enough to have rules against fucking my fighters. I stay in the shadows where I can do the most damage. And it’s also why there are rules in place where fighters of the same house don’t go up against each other. Ever. Infighting does no one any good so I won’t risk it.”

  She had the audacity to look disappointed. As if she were upset that if she fought for him, which she wouldn’t, he wouldn’t fuck her, which he wouldn’t.

  He stared at her. The upper bow of her lip, her make-up free skin, the sexy feather earrings she wore, they all called to him.

  No. No. No.

  Totally wouldn’t.

  He opened his mouth to usher her out the door, but she beat him to it.

  “TS? What does it stand for?”

  “Transsexual.”

  “Like transgender?”

  Not a question he expected her to ask, but she looked so genuinely curious she compelled him to answer. “Transexuals are people who have actually transitioned from one sex to another. Not just people who identify as another gender.”

  “Oh. That makes sense.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “And there’s a big fan base for that?”

  She took it all in stride and, of course, had more questions. “We’ve had quite a few fans ask about it along with several of our fighters bringing friends in who wanted to apply for a position. We don’t wait for trends. We create them.”

  “Fascinating.” Whispering the word, she seemed to say it for herself alone.

  “What is?”

  “That you’d be okay with it. That the owners would.”

  “Explain.”

  She shrugged and found a very interesting patch of ground to stare at. “I’ve watched you the other times I’ve snuck inside. How you’ve interacted with the other fighters. The employees in the stands. You’re…” Pausing, she closed her eyes, blinked up at him, and then stared at the ground again. “Harsh, I guess. I certainly didn’t expect you to be tolerant of other people’s gender issues. In person, you’re not at all what I expected.” She shrugged, showing a lot more of her age, which made it much easier for him to scowl at her.

  Trying to get the chitchat back on track, he sneered a bit. And it had nothing to do with the fact her opinion of him squeezed his heart. Fuck that. He had no time for little girls or little girl dreams. “If they can make me money then I’m all for it. We’ve seen interest from several directions, and I sure as hell know how to turn a profit when it comes to the oldest profession on record.”

  “Prostitution? Really? That’s what you’re going to equate fighting and taking in The Cage to?”

  He shrugged. “People in their seats are paying to see people fuck someone else.”

  “If the fighters were fucking the people in the seats after they paid to sit there, then it would be considered prostitution.”

  “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet…”

  Her head tilted to the side as she studied him. “Shakespeare? Romeo and Juliet? Really? Pretty sure he didn’t know that reference would ever come full circle. Especially not in an establishment such as this.”

  Bowing to her, he was able to hide his grin at her knowledge of literature. She may not have had it easy, but she sure as hell wasn’t some stupid ditz.

  “How long have you worked here?” she asked as he stood to his full height once more.

  “I own here.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “You’re the owner of Gladi-Rapers? Holy shit. No wonder I couldn’t figure out who the owner was. Hiding in plain sight. Brilliant.”

  Hearing her say the name shouldn’t have made his dick hard. He shook his head trying to clear it.

  “So you’re not?” she asked with a whole lotta confused teenager attitude thrown in.

  Operative word being teenager. “Teen” plus “ager” equaled jail time, and he really needed to remember that. “I am the owner, but we’re not discussing anything else. Because you’re too young, and you’re leaving.”

  “But I have so many more questions.”

  “Too bad.”

  Disappointment bled from her, and he almost caved. Almost. Shit. Last thing he needed to do was fall for some underage girl with pretty green eyes.

  Fuck.

  He knew what color her eyes were.

  Kicking her out became the only thing he could focus on.

  It wasn’t the only thing he wanted to focus on. Not even close. But the rest of what he wanted wasn’t meant to be. “You need to go back to school.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Then uncomplicate it.”

  “I have to work to eat. There are only so many hours in the day.”

  “Then take the time you spend sneaking in here where you have no business being and go back to school.” She opened her mouth, but he talked right over her. “We’re sealing the windows shut that you’ve been getting in through, and an alarm and camera company will be here tomorrow. So don’t even think about trying to sneak in again. This is your one free pass. If I see you again, I will press charges with implications that will haunt you for the rest of your life.”

  Silence, but only for a second. “Wait. You aren’t calling the cops on me? Trying to reach my parents, which I don’t have by the way? Or my fosters? Or the CPS chick sent to save me?”

  His heart twisted in his chest, making him want to reach for her. Instead, he walked to his office door and laid his hand on a pad beside it. The lock on the door popped open, and he held it wide, silently waiting for her to join him.

  One huffed breath and a grumble or two later, she stood behind him.

  He ushered her out, shut the door, and to keep from reaching for her again, he crossed his arms over his chest as they walked. “No, I’m not calling anyone. As long as I have your word you won’t be back, I’m going to act as if I’ve never seen you before.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time,” she whispered as they walked down the hall.

  Sadness destroyed her smile, and he hated seeing it. Talk about a distraction he didn’t fucking need.

  The closer they got to the stadium, the louder the voices and chants echoed off the walls beside them.

  They got to a fork in the building. She tried to go left toward an open archway, but he grabbed her elbow. He couldn’t let her go any farther, but he couldn’t drag her away either. He knew how the ring called to him, and if the look on her face was any indication, it called to her
as well.

  Creed caught only a glimpse of the fighters on the mat. His fighter had the other pinned beneath him. The ref lay on his stomach, waiting with a whistle between his lips. Creed’s fighter almost choked out his opponent, the other man tapping out at the last minute. The ref blew the whistle, signaling the end of the match. His fighter let go, jumping to his feet.

  Another win for his Gladi-Rapers.

  Kempest yelled, the veins in his neck standing out as he gave the crowd exactly what they’d paid for. Ripping his clothes from his body, he held a condom between his teeth and fisted his adrenaline-filled cock. The trainers of Brutus woke him and checked his vitals.

  Brutus stood, admitting defeat as he began to undress with jerky movements.

  Kempest would have another fight on his hands to get Brutus pinned so he could fuck him. Creed knew how much Kempest relished that final round. How it fed something inside the man who was rolling the condom down his thick erection as the men squared off again.

  CK’s head tilted toward the stadium as he moved her down the hallway toward the exit.

  He’d won. Creed had. As her head finally turned and faced the front, he knew he’d won. They moved toward the empty hall. Toward the doors coming closer and closer. He’d beat her. But at what cost?

  Some of the light dimmed in her eyes, which pissed him off. Then he got pissed because it pissed him off.

  He pushed the door open and held it for her as she slipped past.

  Her eyes narrowed at him, and he could see her resolve settling around her like armor.

  She had a fighter’s soul. He’d seen it before.

  She opened her mouth to say something, but he shut the door in her face.

  Sending a prayer to the heavens that he never saw her again seemed as if it were more than a tiny bit of a lie.

  Her green eyes and her astute questions were two things he couldn’t afford to get lost in. She was one complication his life didn’t need.

  That his heart ached as he walked back to the stadium...?

  Creed shook his head, then made himself forget her.