Shattered (7 page)

“Cadillac,” I muttered, fighting to keep my
voice from raising three octaves. Another second, which seemed like
a century, spread out before the door creaked open just wide enough
to allow me entrance. My feet moved beneath me as if they were on
their own accord. I stepped through the doorway into the blackness
beyond.

“This way,” said a deep voice. The door
snapped shut behind me, and I was utterly blinded by darkness. I
listened as the sound of heavy footsteps filled the darkness.
Fumbling and shuffling, I followed along the black hallway,
trusting myself to this mysterious envoy. My eyes couldn’t adjust
to my surroundings, as there wasn’t a drop of light to be found. We
walked and walked, my leader and me, our footfalls loud in the dead
silence. We seemed to be heading down the slightest of ramps, down
beneath the city. Finally, I heard his steps come to a stop before
me. I drew up behind and heard the snapping of a dozen heavy
locks.

“Is this it?” I asked.

“This is everything,” he responded, “Enjoy
yourself.”

Before my eyes, the world swung open. An
enormous wave of sound crashed around me, a chaotic, immeasurable,
unknowable scene burst to life before my eyes. An arena gaped
before me, cavernous and pulsing with life. I took a tentative step
forward in the cacophonous melee. The door slammed shut behind me
before I could get a look at the man who’d led me here. I had
arrived to the ball, and what a ball it was.

A huge pit sprawled in the center of the
arena, and all around tiers of balconies and risers rose. There had
to be a thousand people there, milling about raucously. Powerful
looking men in fine suits wrapped their arms around stunning women
in skintight dresses, looking as if they were the royalty of the
underworld; I supposed that’s what they were, in the end. Bright
lights swung and flashed, heavy music blared all around, and I felt
myself swallowed up entirely. There was no backing out now, that
much was abundantly clear.

Step by step, I made my way into the space.
It looked like some sort of mother ship—everything was slick and
perfect. The walls were lined with bar stations, and scantily-clad
waitresses swarmed around them like bees in a hive. As far as my
eye could see, there wasn’t an unattractive face to be found.
Everyone there looked as though they’d been cloned from the perfect
human specimen. A wash of self-consciousness closed around
me—surely they’d be able to spot me as an outsider in a heartbeat.
There was no way I could compare to the gorgeous women all around
me.

For lack of a better idea, I made my way
toward the pit. The air was thick with noise and the smoke of a
hundred potent cigars, but somehow it wasn’t oppressive. My senses
were heightened as adrenaline surged through my veins…I was
overcome with euphoric anticipation. A golden railing encircled the
pit, and I lay my hands on it gingerly. I peered over the side into
the fighting ring. The floor was covered with sand, almost as
though they were trying to capture a second Coliseum within this
space. I tried to prepare myself for the show, but couldn’t even
imagine what it would be like to see Anderson down there.

“Hello there,” said a silky voice behind
me.

I whirled around, surprised to be addressed
at all in this place. A smooth, elegant man in his fifties stood
before me, flanked by two enormous gentlemen. His face was tanned,
lined but very handsome. His black hair was slicked back and
shimmered softly in the arena lights. The suit that he wore was
perfectly tailored, and draped perfectly on his toned body. He was
altogether one of the most intimidating and alluring men I’d ever
seen.

“Um. Hi,” I managed to say with a nervous
smile. The man’s bright blue eyes were boring holes through me, and
I was half afraid that he was about to throw me out on my ass. He’d
be able to sense that I was an outsider, I just knew it.

“You must be Kaela,” he said kindly.

I just stared at him, my mouth working
wordlessly for a moment. “Oh. Yeah,” I said finally. “How did
you...?”

“Anderson told me to be on the lookout for a
beautiful newcomer to our little circle,” he went on. “And it seems
that I have found her.”

I blushed at having been called beautiful by
Anderson himself. My bashfulness did not go unnoticed by the
charming man.

“You really are new to this scene, aren’t
you?” he asked.

“Very,” I said honestly, “I’m sorry, I forgot
to ask your name.”

“I’m Robert,” the man smiled, “Robert
Hunt.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed, “Anderson told me all
about you.”

“Did he?” Robert asked, as a smile spread
across his face. “Anderson is a good boy. I’ve known him all his
life. I only want the best things in the world for him, though he
hardly needs my help to achieve his goals.”

“From what he has told me, you’ve helped him
quite a bit,” I said.

“That’s very sweet,” Robert said. “You seem
very sweet, Miss Kaela.” He cocked his head slightly to the side,
as if he were examining an interesting new species.

“Oh. Well...” I stammered.

“Roy,” Robert said to one of the big, silent
men at his side, “Go and fetch Kaela a drink, would you?” he turned
to me with a smile, “What’s your poison, dear?”

“I would love a tequila and ginger,” I said
tentatively.

“You heard the woman,” Robert said. His man
disappeared back into the seething crowd. “Come with me,
sweetheart. We’ve got the best seats in the house set aside for
you.”

“Oh,” I said, “I guess that you...come here
often?”

Robert let out a laugh and rested a hand on
the small of my back. The sudden contact made me jump. “I better
come here often,” Robert said, “It’s sort of my hobby. And I come
out to support Anderson, of course. I’m a manager of sorts for
him.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Oh yes,” Robert said, “Anderson couldn’t
give a damn about money or prestige, he just wants to get down
there and fight. I make sure that all his best interests are
protected. I suppose I’ve been his guardian, in a way.”

The crowd parted before Robert like a school
of fish for a shark. A thousand eyes stared at me wonderingly,
surprised to see a new girl by Robert’s side. I felt buoyed by his
confidence, like I had just been given a seat in the inner circle.
He led us to a raised box on the far side of the pit. The spot
offered a perfect view of the entire arena, and held two plush
theater seats. Robert gestured to one, indicating that I should
sit. I sunk down onto the cushioned seat, feeling for the world
like a visiting princess in a strange kingdom. Robert certainly
seemed to be some kind of king there.

The thug Roy returned to our side with two
drinks in tow. I happily accepted the drink, feeling as out of
place as I did. This was a far cry from slinging coffee to
deadbeats, that much was for sure. Robert watched me, smiling
fondly. His eyes lingered a bit too long on my chest and waist for
my liking, but I told myself that he was harmless. This was the man
who had raised Anderson, after all. He couldn’t be that much of a
creep.

“I’m very glad to see that Anderson has taken
an interest in someone,” Robert said.

“Has he?” I said stiltedly, “Taken an
interest, I mean?”

“Oh yes,” Robert said, “Anderson is a boy of
few words, but I can tell from the way that he talks about you that
he’s quite taken.”

“Oh. Good,” I said, turning my attention
toward the ring. Inside, I was crying out in joy—maybe Anderson
really was interested in being more than a friend to me. My
thoughts wandered back to the night before...to how wonderful it
had felt to stand beside him without a stitch of clothing between
my body and him.

“You’re blushing again,” Robert said, calling
me out.

“I’m just excited to be here,” I told him
with a smile. It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Just wait until the match starts,” Robert
said, “Then you’ll know what real excitement is.”

I took an eager sip of my drink and scanned
the expanse of the arena. All around the pit, people were beginning
to gather, and the air was buzzing with heady anticipation. The
enthusiasm was contagious, and I felt my body begin to respond. I’d
never even seen an arm wrestling match before, so why was my body
acting so intrinsically engaged by this whole thing? I supposed it
had to do with instincts buried deep inside of me.

Suddenly, the lights in the arena shifted,
illuminating the pit and throwing the rest of the space into
darkness. A cacophonous cheer went up all around me as a thousand
people pressed forward for a better view of the fighting ring. The
sudden surge of humanity was overwhelming—I was glad that Robert
had whisked me into this protected box seat. All around in the
darkened arena, people were chattering and cheering, worked into a
frenzy of anticipation and something that I knew in my bones to be
bloodlust. For the first time, I felt a stab of worry strike me in
the gut. The animalistic way these people were looking forward to
the fight made me wonder whether I should be praying for Anderson’s
safety.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said a booming voice
that rang, amplified, throughout the darkened arena, “Welcome back
to our fine establishment. This is sure to be an exciting match,
tonight. Please welcome to the pit, our defending champion,
undefeated in his last 48 contests, The Brooklyn Barbarian, The
Harbinger of Sorrow, Anderson ‘The Shatter Man’ Cole!”

An ear piercing roar went up all around me,
rattling the very foundations of the arena. A sudden blare of
spotlights flashed to encompass the fighting pit, and brutal death
metal music surged through the speakers. I leaned forward, my heart
nearly beating out of my chest as I clutched the railing, as the
staggering hero that was Anderson strode into the pit. I let out an
involuntary moan as he made his way forward. His chest and arms
were entirely bare, and his rock hard muscles were on full,
excruciatingly fine display. Even from afar, I could count his abs
one by one. The rippling panes of his chest and the bulging,
innumerable muscles of his back and arms came together in the most
perfect form I ever could have imagined…And oh God those
tattoos.

He grinned up into the crowd, his eyes lit up
with a furious excitement. His every muscle seemed poised, on a
hair trigger and ready to react. There was a grace to his movements
that only made his obvious strength that much more appealing. I
wondered what it would be like to have him on top of me, that
brilliant excitement turning into ecstasy as he thrust and drove
powerfully into me, giving me a taste of that powerful grace. What
would it be like to feel those rippling muscles under my hands even
as I felt him sinking further and further inside of me...?

“And now, tonight’s worthy challenger,” the
overhead voice went on, interrupting my sinfully dirty thoughts.
“Hailing from Virginia Beach, undefeated in his last 13 contests,
Ladies and Gentlemen it’s my privilege to introduce to you Erik
‘The Pit Bull’ Maelstrom!”

Another deafening wave of sound, voices and
music, crashed over the arena. My eardrums strained against the
force of the riotous noise. I tore my eyes away from Anderson as
another figure entered the fighting pit. My blood ran cold as I
took in my hero’s opponent for the evening. Erik Maelstrom had none
of Anderson’s easy grace—he was a hulking mountain of a man, and
seemed a good foot taller than my already sky-high hero. He was
even broader, too; a barrel-chested wrecking ball of raw power. His
fists were like hammers, ready to smash Anderson into submission.
My hands tightened around the railing until they ached, as a sudden
freezing panic swept through me. I had the absurd impulse to throw
myself into the ring, put my body between Anderson and this boulder
of a fighter he was supposed to go up against. Who had decided that
this was a good idea? Why was everyone cheering when my savior was
in such imminent danger?

I heard a warm laugh beside me as Robert lay
a hand on my shoulder. “This is your first fight, I gather,” he
said, “Don’t worry. Anderson knows how to take care of himself,
you’ll see. The boy is practically undefeated.”

“But...That guy is huge,” I said, unable to
tear my eyes away from the men in the pit.

“Huge doesn’t mean strong,” Robert said, “And
it doesn’t mean fast. Try and enjoy yourself, dear. This is the fun
part.”

The overhead voice drowned out the roar of
the crowd long enough to say, “Gentlemen, the fight
starts...NOW!”

A blasting horn pealed out a long note, and
time seemed to slow all around me as the men flew into action. I
watched as Anderson’s muscles coordinated themselves into a
flawless leap, carrying him across the ring. Maelstrom, for his
part, charged forward with a sudden burst of momentum, his pounding
steps seeming to echo throughout the entire arena. Erik raised a
fist, looking to catch Anderson in the chest, but my hero skated by
the lumbering man like a matador dodging a raging bull. Anderson
landed lightly and pivoted back toward Maelstrom, a wicked grin
affixed onto his lips. Erik stopped just short of colliding with
the wall of the pit before he fumbled to a stop, turning back
toward Anderson with a look of surprise. It was clear that
Maelstrom was used to winning fights by brute force alone, but he’d
need more than that to defeat Anderson. He’d need finesse.

Anderson crouched like a coiled spring, his
every muscle tense and focused. I felt a surge of adrenaline race
through my body as he unwound, flying forward across the pit. He
moved like a dancer, making these incredible feats of strength look
effortless. He was beautiful, and terrifying, and deadly, all at
the same time. Before Maelstrom could even move a muscle, Anderson
jumped and swung his leg around with a sweeping kick, catching the
bigger man beneath the chin with a devastating blow. I gasped as
Erik’s neck snapped back, and the cracking sound is one I’ll never
forget…for a moment I thought his jaw would fly straight off of his
face. The fighter reeled backward and Anderson struck again, this
time sweeping the bigger man’s legs out from under him. He went
down with a thud, sending up a cloud of sand as we hit the
floor.