Savage: a Fighter Erotic Romance Novella Read online

  One man appeared as well, and he stood out from the rest of the trashy, drunk, slovenly dressed crowds. He wore a black silk suit and seemed to be in his fifties. His face was lined with wrinkles, but he was not weak—rather, he looked as if he himself had once been a fighter and could step back into the ring any time he wished. I watched in a daze as he walked to Lucas, the path automatically clearing in front of him as if people knew who he was. In his hand, he held a wad of money, which he pressed into Lucas’ palm.

  Lucas looked up at him with a dark look that disturbed me. It wasn’t happy or grateful. It was bitter and hateful. He clenched his jaw and gave the black suited man a sharp nod, taking the money from him. The suited man walked away, leaving Lucas glaring after him.

  Strange, I thought. Strange, disturbing, and even more confusing than anything else that had gone on that night.

  Suddenly, Lucas’ expression changed as if he was remembering something vitally important. He glanced down at the wad of bills in his lap and counted them for a moment, then looked out into the crowds. I saw him shout something, but couldn’t hear him over the roars of the crowd that scrambled to congratulate and touch him.

  He shouted it again, and this time I read his lips.

  Hey kid.

  I raised my hand up over the crowds, trying to draw his gaze over to me. It passed over me a few times, and I groaned in frustration. Suddenly, a man to my left laughed a drunk, hacking laugh. “You trying to get the champion’s attention, Pretty?” he asked.

  “What?” I stammered, backing away from him. Pretty. Shit, that reminded me too much of a memory I didn’t want to think of right now.

  “Don’t be shy, little lady,” the man said, grabbing my arm and hoisting me up. I scrambled to catch my balance, desperately trying not to be dropped on the floor. He held me up over the crowds and began hollering at Lucas. “Hey, Stone,” he screamed. “This little lady wants to give you a hero’s welcome, I hear.”

  “What—no!” I cried, though nobody could hear me. Stupid drunks making assumptions.

  Fortunately, Lucas caught sight of me. A weary smile, one not really happy but more satisfied, appeared on his face. He gave a sad laugh at the man’s screams (‘She looks like the real prize tonight, ey cowboy?’) and made eye contact with me.

  He pointed to the side of the bar towards the back patio. I nodded and obeyed, slipping down from the man’s grip and out to the patio to wait for him in the cold winter night. Mostly I was just thankful out of the screaming, hot hellhole that was that bar.

  I drew my coat closer over me, trying to make sense of everything I’d seen and heard that night. Strange wasn’t really enough to cover it.

  The moon was a bit higher in the sky, full and fat and white, when I finally heard the crunch of leaves behind me. The sounds of the bar had wound down as it had gotten late and the patrons had left. Only the sad sound of a single jukebox playing old 50s love songs drifted from its doors. I turned to watch Lucas walk to me, his eyes soft and his hands holding the money.

  “You’re a real son of a bitch,” I said admiringly, sizing him up again. He had his cowboy hat back on, the brim of it tilted down again to cover his face. “So this is your dark secret?”

  “Ain’t nothing secret about it, kid,” he said, shrugging. He joined me on the patio, looking out into the starry night sky. “This is what I do. Fight fights, win fights, get my money, leave.”

  “Sounds hard.”

  He shrugged again. “It’s a decent living.”

  “I can see that.”

  He looked down at the wad of cash in his hand. “Told you I’d win you some money, darlin’,” he said softly, holding it up again. From the pile he plucked several crisp hundred dollar bills. He handed them to me wordlessly, and I took them with wide eyes. They felt electric in my hands. This was more money than I had ever held in my life.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I whispered.

  He snorted. “Don’t I? You look like you’re damn near about to keel over, darlin’. Nah, this is for me too. Need to sort out some karma, after all.”

  I laughed. “You’re an okay guy, Lucas.”

  He grinned at me, and this time it was a genuine grin, not the harsh smirk from the cage. “It’s Luke, darlin’.”

  “Luke?”

  “Only … only people I don’t like call me Lucas. You can call me Luke.”

  His voice shook with something dark behind it.

  “So I’m somebody you like?”

  “Don’t push it, kid,” he said, nudging me with his elbow.

  We stood there in silence a while as Luke smoked a cigarette and I took in his presence. He towered over me, even taller than he had seemed on stage, and up close his muscles looked was tight and strong as the men he knocked unconscious with them. He had cleaned up a bit from the fight, but the thick smell of sweat and alcohol still clung to him, and his face gleamed in the moonlight. The heat of his body warmed mine, and I longed to reach out and touch him, to run a head over his smooth muscles and feel his naked flesh under mine.

  After a while, he crushed the cigarette under his boot. He stretched, and my heart sank, realizing our short time together was already over. I hid my expression under a smile.

  “Take care, darlin’,” he said, giving me a tip of his hat. “Go find yourself a good place to sleep—I hear there’s a Marriott down the road. And you make sure you eat something.”

  I watched him walk away into the night, his silhouette fading into the blackness. After a few moments, I heard his voice speak with a few men—loudly and angrily, it seemed—and then the roar of a motorcycle starting. The figure of Luke on his bike drove off into the distance, leaving me totally alone on the patio.

  For a moment, it hurt.

  I drew my arms around me again, suddenly realizing how cold it was. I needed to go find some dinner and that hotel. I looked down at the money in my hand and counted it:

  Four hundred and fifty dollars. Jesus Christ.

  I made my way back through the bar towards the front. Standing there was the group of men who had spoken to Luke when he left. They were all tall, muscled men in leather jackets who looked like they had been fighters too. But the way that Luke spoke to them made me think that didn’t make them friends.

  “Where you going, little lady?” one of them called after me as I passed them. I bristled but ignored them, speeding up my pace. Giving them attention was just what they wanted.

  “Ey,” one of the others called, taking off his sunglasses. “What you got in your hand?”

  Shit! I had forgotten to stuff the money in my pocket.

  Before I could react, one of them was behind me, yanking at the money in my hand. I gasped and tried to grab it back, but one of them took my arms and held them behind me.

  I gulped. Where was Luke when you needed him.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” another of them shouted. He grabbed my arm and yanked me towards them.

  He was strong. Too strong. I couldn’t get away.

  “I was going home….” I said, buzzing with adrenalin. I tried to think of anything I could say to get me out of this mess, but my mind was a blank.

  “I see you’ve got some of Stone’s money there, sweetheart,” one of them said, approaching me. His arms were crossed tight over his chest, the leather of his jacket outlining every muscle and tendon. “You thinking of running off with something that ain’t yours?”

  “He gave it to me,” I stammered, trying to pull away. “I didn’t steal it, he—”

  The man snorted. “Right, and I’m the Queen of England. Let’s take the thief back to Stone. I’m sure he’ll like to hear your story.”

  They began dragging me to the bikes parked outside. I fought against them, but their grip on my arms was too forceful. It was useless to fight against them, no matter how much I wanted to. They began to mount their bikes. One of them put me on his, pinning my arms in front of him so that I couldn’t take the chance to leap down and run o
ff.

  “Where are you taking me?” I demanded.

  “To Stone, sweetheart,” the leader of the men growled. “You ain’t stealing his money without giving something up in return. He has a hell of a surprise waiting for him.”

  THE SPONSOR

  ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

  I kept my eyes squeezed shut as we drove, unwilling to look out onto the road passing brutally fast beneath my feet. I kept my arms wrapped tight around my biker though I hated him. They drove in a pack for what seemed like miles and miles, the road whipping past us mercilessly as they drove me into my fate.

  Before I knew it, we were at a motel just as seedy as the bar. The lot in front of it was almost completely empty except for a single motorcycle. Luke’s, I realized.

  They dragged me down from the bike and towards one of the motel room doors.

  “Hey, Stone,” one man cried, hammering down on the door with his fists. I looked around wildly for an escape, but it was no use; the motel was in the middle of nowhere, far off from the bar and totally away from any help. The air was already getting colder as midnight descended upon us, and I could feel my fingers and toes growing numb again.

  I struggled against the man holding me, trying to escape, but he was too strong, all of them obviously former fighters themselves. Besides, there was no way I could outrun them.

  I was stuck, I realized. I groaned and gave up my attempts to wrench away from them.

  The sound of footsteps approached the door.

  “What?” Luke’s voice was cold and hateful.

  “Come on out and play, Stone,” said one of the men. “We brought you a present. This little lady was trying to make off with your money after you bought her.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Luke spat. He began to walk away, but I couldn’t handle being left alone with these men. I needed Luke to be there.

  “Please, Luke,” I cried. “Wait!”

  There was a moment of silence.

  “Anna?” I heard him say.

  “So he knows the little thief,” growled one of the men. “Typical.”

  Luke threw open the door and marched through it, his face concerned. He looked fresh out of the shower, his hair still wet and tousled and only a towel wrapped around his hips. His eyes were wild as they raked over me, then moved to the men. “What have you done?”

  “Calm down, boy, we ain’t done nothing.” I was shoved from my back to him so hard I lost my footing. I fell into Luke’s arms, totally helpless. “Just bringing you a present.”

  “From?” His voice was bitter.

  “Mr. Vera. He saw you pay her and wants you to get your money’s worth.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “It ain’t a suggestion,” said the man. “It’s an order.”

  As quickly as they had come, the men gathered on their bikes and soared off, leaving me alone with a half-naked Luke in a deserted motel in the middle of winter.

  “Say,” I said, shivering and standing up. He immediately released me from his protective grip. “You want to let me in? It’s fucking freezing out here.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to leave?” he asked, rubbing his neck. There was something dangerous in his eyes that warned me there was more going on that I knew, but I shook the feeling off. There were more important things to do than worry

  “Leave?” I asked, giving him a look. “And let those guys catch me again? Fat fucking chance. Sorry, dude, but you’re stuck with me.”

  “Anna,” he groaned. “You don’t understand.”

  “I do understand that I’m freezing my ass off out here. So you going to invite me in or what?”

  He stared at me for a few moments. A flash of pain crossed his eyes.

  Then he stepped aside, letting me in the open motel door. I scurried in, shivering against the cold that came in with me. The room was deliciously warm, and it smelled like the soap he had just showered with. I sat down on the edge of the bed, wrenching off my old, tattered shoes.

  “Are you alright?” he asked gruffly, locking the door behind him.

  “Yes, I’m fine. They didn’t hurt me. Much.” I rubbed my sore wrist.

  “I’m sorry about them,” he said, rubbing his neck again as if in though. “They work for my sponsor. They’re meant to keep me safe and happy, though they fail miserably.”

  “Your sponsor?” I asked, racking my brain. I remembered he had been mentioned at the cage match.

  “Yes. You saw him at the cage match.”

  “You mean your friend? The man in the black suit?” I guessed, remembering the man who had given him the money. Though ‘friendly’ wouldn’t be how I described Luke’s interactions with him. “What was his name again? Vera?”

  “He’s not … he’s not my friend,” Luke spat, his voice shaking in fury.

  I swallowed hard, feeling the anger radiate off of him. I had never seen him so furious, not even when he was in the cage match. That was a calculated fury, a cold and precise one he saved for the fight. This one was hot, vicious, and full of real hatred.

  I shuddered underneath it.

  “Then what?” I whispered.

  His gaze turned black as he looked back to me.

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “I want to,” I whispered.

  There was a moment of silence.

  “He’s my owner,” Luke admitted with a sigh. He sat down by me on the edge of the bed. “He bought me when I was very young. That’s how they do these things.”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn’t get the words out. Luke saw my confusion and sighed. He sat down next to me and placed a hand on my knee. It felt electric and stirred something wild in me that I barely recognized, but I shook that off. Like I said earlier, there were more important things at hand.

  He saw my look of confusion and sighed again, but it was a sigh of compassion, not out of anger at me for not understanding.

  “Have you ever heard of human trafficking?” he asked me lightly.

  “Like with prostitutes? A little. I think I watched a documentary about it once on the Discovery Channel.”

  He nodded. The ghost of a sad smile haunted his lips. “Yes, exactly. But all kinds of people can be kidnapped, and they can be forced to all kinds of things. Most of them do become prostitutes.”

  “And you?”

  “A fighter.” He frowned and squeezed the hand that was on my knee. “They take us when we’re young, buy us, and put us into training. Those that make it through like I did become professional fighters for our mob bosses.”

  “And the ones that don’t make it through?”

  He gave me a dark look that immediately made me regret asking.

  “We’re like racing horses,” he explained, avoiding the question. “We’re kept like prized possessions and sometimes even pampered. But the instant we start losing….” He trailed off. “Luckily I haven’t lost yet. But then again, I don’t really have a say in the matter.”

  “Luke,” I said, sensing the hidden pain underneath his words. There was something he wasn’t telling me, and God damn it I was going to find out what it was. It was obviously torturing him, and I couldn’t stand to see him hurt. He was too kind for that. “What’s wrong?”

  His jaw clenched. “Like I said. Our bosses like to pamper us.”

  “And this pampering is bad because…?”

  “Because it means I …” He turned away, his expression pained.

  “Luke, what?”

  He looked into my eyes. His frown was grim and his gaze was tortured. He looked as if he hated himself more at that moment than at any other time in his life.

  “Because it means I have to fuck you now,” he said quietly.

  The moment between us was dead silent. My mouth opened for a moment, trying to think of what to say next, but I was still struggling to absorb his meaning.

  “What?” I asked, breathless.

  Luke turned from me, marching to the win
dow so that there was as much distance between us as possible. “Jesus, Anna, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. Everything I touch turns to shit! I should have known I shouldn’t have spoken to you.”

  I shook my head furiously. “I don’t understand.”

  He groaned. “It’s part of the mob laws. They saw me give you money, and they’ve decided you’re going to have to fuck me in return. They like to keep their fighters pampered,” he said, spitting the last word. “That means a few presents—booze, gaming … and sometimes women.” He groaned and put his head in his hands. “And it looks like this time I don’t have a say in it. We have to fuck, or they’ll come after you. And then me.”

  “They can’t do that,” I said, almost as if I was trying to comfort him. There was more pain in his voice than I’d ever hear before. I had to stop him from feeling such hurt.

  “If I don’t fuck you, they’ll track you down and do it themselves,” he said, his voice ragged and furious. “Because they’re disgusting and worthless excuses for humanity.”

  “I…”

  I trailed off. What could I really say?

  “I’m so sorry, Anna,” he repeated.

  “You really have to….” I said, realizing it was true.

  “No,” he said, shaking head. His voice was full of pain, as if he was being tortured. I got the sense that this was the real pain Luke had to deal with. Physical pain he was used to. Emotional pain, though? It looked as if he was being torn apart from the inside. “We can find a way out,” he said as if reassuring himself. “We can get you out of this, we can do something….”

  “You don’t sound like you really believe that.”

  He frowned for a moment, then placed his head in his hands. “I know. It’s because I really don’t.”

  I watched him sit in silence for a few moments, his head in his hands. It made me furious. Furious first, of course, because I was being told who to have sex with as if they thought they owned me.

  But furious even more because they really did own Luke. It tore me apart to see him like this, totally unable to fight his fate. I suddenly realized I was catching a glimpse into his whole life. This was just one moment of pain, but it revealed a lifetime of slavery and loneliness.