Authors: JenniferKacey
“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
un
complicate 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.
Still, he wondered when he would see her again.
Five years later, KC stepped back through the doors of the Gladi-Rapers training ludus.
KC.
Her real name.
The rest of the story had been true so long ago. She’d only swapped the letters.
She’d turned twenty-two a few weeks prior, which happened to be the week before she’d graduated from college with a dual degree in biology and chemistry.
After Creed had shut the door in her face while kicking her out for being underage, she’d done a lot of thinking. Not all of it pretty. Not all of it honest. But thankfully she accepted her past and made a commitment to herself to make her future exactly what she wanted it to be.
She’d gone back to school and kicked its ass. Making it her bitch had been her life’s goal for years. Didn’t take her long to find her stride, because somehow he’d given her the purpose she’d been looking for.
The goal to get into the Rapers had faded into the background a bit over the years. But the thought of seeing him again, proving to him that she’d made something of herself, never went away. He was probably married with three kids and a dog somewhere in the suburbs, but that didn’t stop her from wanting him.
Didn’t stop her from picturing herself on the mat with him when she lay in the dark of her apartment with her panties pulled to the side.
It was his name she still called when she came. His face she pictured with her fingers in her pussy.
They’d spoken for a handful of minutes.
Truly he shouldn’t have made such a ginormous impact on her life, her wishes, but he had. He was what she wanted. If nothing else, she needed to say thank you to him.
No. That was the lie she’d told herself to get up the courage to show up today.
For whatever reason, she’d trusted him. The first time she’d seen him, much less met him, she knew he wouldn’t harm her. At least not
un
intentionally. It had a lot to do with the fact he didn’t turn her in. Didn’t call the cops or CPS or her mother. Or her sperm donor.
Her parents.
What a fucking joke.
She shook her head, not anywhere near ready to deal with that powder keg of awful.
Nervousness raked nails across her spine, but she hid it all.
Never let them see you sweat. Not ever. That was her motto. She could break down and let her emotion out when she was behind closed doors at home. But not in front of anyone else.
Her eyes adjusted to the darker hallway as the light from outside faded.
Staring up, seeing the window she’d snuck through, made her smile. How she’d ever gotten the balls to climb up the wall to get inside, she had no clue. Fate had pushed her, she thought. Only thing that made sense to her so many years later.
“Keep your hands up, Allyson. You’re dropping your left shoulder still. If Rage caught you doing that in the ring, he’d take that pretty pussy in a heartbeat.”
Voices called to KC from inside the stadium, drawing her forward.
Walking through the stark, empty hallway, the feelings she’d had so long ago bombarded her. Lost, abandoned, a nobody. Invisible. That’s how she’d felt.
Trying to sift through it, she relaxed and pushed it to the side.
She wasn’t that scared little girl anymore.
No one could take her power again.
Taking her power wasn’t an option. She was a fighter. Whether it be for the Rapers, she’d know hopefully in less than a few short hours.
But she would fight in The Cage at least once before she moved on.
She’d already been hired to take on a new position at BioChem Research in East Aurora, right down the street from a MOOG facility, on the first of September. So that left her one last summer to be a kid. One last summer to pursue a dream she just couldn’t let go. Several short months to be wild and reckless before she let all of her childhood go to focus on the rest of her life and finding herself. Fighting wasn’t something she wanted to do as a career. It wasn’t something she even wanted to do for a huge period of her life. She’d learned huge amounts of how hard it could be on her body. Her mind.
But one thing she’d taken to heart in all of her boxing and martial arts classes had moved her up in rank faster than any before her.
If you hit first, if you hit harder, you aren’t on the receiving end of pain.
Fuck. Yeah.
Oof.
The sound of a fist or boot colliding with a person reached her ears on the last stretch of corridor. Adrenaline spiked in her veins. Several masculine voices spoke up at the same time.
“Great kick.”
“Fuck that had to hurt.”
“This is training only, dickwad. Keep your size thirteen’s on the mat like a gentlemen. Keep the asshole in check ‘til you’re on the mat on Saturday, and then you can let your dick flag fly.”
“Dick flag. What a slogan.”
As she moved closer to the stadium, she searched for Creed’s voice but didn’t hear him, and she made her herself one promise. No matter the outcome, no matter if she saw Creed or not, she would try out, and whether they took her on to train or not she would let this obsession go.
Once and for all, she had to let him go.
This would be her farewell to the girl she’d been, to make room for the woman she knew she wanted to be.
So she went back. Back to The Cage she’d never stood inside, but which had changed her destiny nonetheless.