Jolie
Charleston, SC
Monday night
I eyed the bikini my boss had given me to put on when I’d arrived. There was no way the fabric would cover all the essentials. The triangles on the top were tiny and the bottoms—how did that itty-bitty fabric properly stay in place and keep all my secrets hidden?
My guess was that was the point. They were hoping for a peep show.
Ryder and I had changed hotels that morning, opting for one that was a little less Bates Motel and a little more Holiday Inn. Since it still had outdoor entry, Ryder had agreed to step it up just a bit. I wasn’t high-maintenance, but since we were going to be doing a lot of traveling and working, I figured sleeping on a mattress in which we couldn’t feel every single spring was a good idea.
I slipped the bikini on, trying unsuccessfully to make the fabric stretch over my breasts and backside. It was no use. So much skin was on display. I knew Ryder was going to have a coronary, but what was I supposed to do? This was the job.
The rest of the day had been spent resting and going over the plans for the evening. I was supposed to keep my eyes and ears open and take notice of anything that might look or sound suspicious. I had rounds two and four of each of the matches. I’d make my loop around the cage holding the card with the round number, jiggle my ass, and then get back to my corner. The only other time I had to be on stage was when they announced the ring-girl competition. Each night of the tour, the girls would compete for number one. Most of it was just bragging rights, but according to Chrissy, whom I’d met when I came in, there was also a monetary incentive. Five hundred bucks to the winning ring girl. Not a bad prize.
I’d procrastinated enough, so made my way out of the makeshift locker room, aka the ladies’ bathroom, and out to the warehouse where they’d set up a ring, if you could call it that. Ryder had explained that those who hosted the fights, usually drug cartels or gangs, didn’t spend money on things like equipment or staging. People would come and give their money to them regardless. Plus, the overhead costs weren’t something they were interested in covering.
For the evening, there were thick mats laid out on the floor with tall fencing encircling them to create the cage. It was a far cry from the setup we had at Shadow Force. There were a few folding chairs littering the room, but mostly people stood, crowding in to see the fights.
The announcer took to the middle of the ring and put a mic to his mouth.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to ruuuumble!” He drew the last word out in an exaggerated tone, the cheap microphone making him sound as if he were talking into a can. The crowd erupted with shouts and screams, and I searched the room, hoping to set eyes on Ryder.
As if I was drawn by some magnetic pull, my gaze settled on him across the room. He was watching me, a hoodie pulled over his head, his hands already wrapped for the night’s fight, a scowl on his face. I knew he was fighting third, so we still had a little time. He nodded to me, his only acknowledgement that he’d seen me, and the scowl never left.
Ah, it was my outfit. Seemed he was as pissed as I thought he would be. I smiled back, hoping he’d feel encouraged, and did a tiny finger wave. Ryder rolled his eyes and shook his head. I giggled under my breath and sauntered over to take my place on the sidelines.
The fighting was just as brutal as Ryder had warned me. The first fight was over before it had even begun. A few punches to the head and the guy went down. I didn’t even have a chance to hold my card up. Not that I was complaining.
The second fight was a little more interesting, but the amount of blood that was drawn from both sides made my stomach clench. When they broke apart after round one, Chrissy bounced over to me.
“Here’s your card. The announcer will give you a nod, and you just jump up there and shake your thang, okay?” Chrissy was bubbly and bouncy and everything I should be at the moment, but I was having a difficult time summoning the enthusiasm.
I was known for my effervescent personality. I was bouncy and enthusiastic and genuinely happy most of the time. I tended to see the glass as half full rather than half empty—and that was perhaps one reason people underestimated me. It was as if perky was equivalent to airheaded and stupid.
“Thanks, Chrissy. You’ve been a big help.”
“Just relax and do your best. Try to have fun.” She gave me a quick hug and bounced away, jiggling all over as she did. I noticed several men watching her with leering gazes. All part of the job, I reminded myself.
The announcer pointed at me, and I pushed the gate open to enter the mat. I channeled my best impersonation of someone who was excited to be there and took off with my card raised high above my head. I stopped periodically and shimmied, winking at no one in particular.
I was almost back to my spot when I spied the huge Russian guy from the tryouts. He was watching me with predatory eyes, the look on his face one of possession. I stumbled over my feet, but fortunately I didn’t go down. A few snickers went up around me, but otherwise it appeared no one really noticed or cared.
I kept walking, my smile more forced now, and I could feel the weight of the big guy’s stare the entire time. When I reached the gate, I felt a smidge of relief—until I saw him pushing through the crowd to get to me.
A hand on my arm had me yelping in surprise, and I turned with my fist raised, ready to belt whoever dared touch me. Relief poured through me when I saw it was Ryder. His hands were up, but his gaze was hard.
“What’s wrong?” He pulled me close to his side, his arm wrapped around my waist where his warm hand settled on my bare skin. It was like a brand, so hot against my flesh. I shivered at his closeness, and he pulled me tighter to him.
“Jolie, what’s wrong?” His voice was so low in my ear I could barely hear him, so I knew we wouldn’t be discovered. He wasn’t Sasha at the moment; he was Ryder.
“Nothing. Just creeped out.”
His lips were at my ear. “By what? Or should I ask by whom?”
Instead of answering, I turned and faced him, pressing myself against his body. “Over my shoulder. See him?”
A growl was his response.
Then his lips landed on mine with bruising force. He kissed me long and hard, different from last night’s kisses. Those had been about seduction, feverish—the kind of kisses that make you lose sense of time and space, whether that had been Ryder’s intention or not. This kiss, though, it was about possession—staking his claim.
A few woots and catcalls went up around us. One guy even yelled, “Hey, baby, when you’re finished with him, I’ll take my turn.” But I ignored them and focused only on Ryder, his tongue gliding against mine, his hands balled tightly into fists against the sensitive flesh just above my bikini bottoms. Then he pulled away, and he was no longer Ryder.
“It does crazy things to me to see you up there, my solnyshko.” I wondered what the term meant and made a mental note to ask Ryder later.
“I’m sorry, love. You know I only have eyes for you.”
The big guy was standing close now. He was facing the ring, but his eyes were boring into mine. I smiled tentatively and then looked away from the coldness I saw in his gaze. Once Ryder left me to fight, I’d be alone to face this guy. Maybe I could find Chrissy and stay with her. Not that she could keep me safe. No, I was able to take care of myself. I had to keep reminding myself of that truth. I was no longer a vulnerable target. I had skills. I was Ryder’s backup.
I straightened my spine and looked at Ryder meaningfully. “Darling, you need to get ready for your fight. I don’t want you distracted because of me.”
He caught the meaning and nodded, releasing his hold on me, his gaze shooting to something behind me. When I turned around, I saw that the big guy was facing us now, his hard stare bearing down on Ryder, who was giving as good as he was taking. The guy smiled, an evil smile that sent chills up my spine.
Ryder dropped his gaze to me and bent to kiss me. When his lips met my ear, he whispered, “Be careful. I don’t like the look of that guy.”
I gave a quick jerk of my head to let him know I’d heard him, and Ryder disappeared into the crowd. I took off to find Chrissy. At least she’d be a good distraction.
The fight ended in round three, so the next time I had to be up was Ryder’s fight. I said a silent prayer that he would be okay. The losers of these fights were unable to walk off the mat on their own two feet. Each one had been carried off, and I was afraid the most recent guy wasn’t breathing.
“Ladies and gentlemen! In this corner, wearing the black and blue shorts—Alexei Volknov.” The crowd erupted, and fear shot through me. The other fighters had all been American names or even Hispanic. But this guy was clearly Russian. Did our plan work? Was this a setup? Was Ryder in trouble?
“In the other corner, wearing gold and black shorts—Sasha Petrov!” The crowd screamed, and I pressed closer to the fence. I knew Ryder wouldn’t make eye contact with me, but I was hoping he’d see me at least and maybe glean a little bit of encouragement from that fact.
Chrissy was the first ring girl, so she walked the ring with her card held above her head. When she’d exited the mat, the bell rang, and the two men circled each other.
There were no doctors on-site. No tests had been done beforehand to make sure everyone was clean. The equipment wasn’t inspected, and Ryder had mentioned that some guys put razor blades in their gloves to do more damage. Please God, don’t let that be the case tonight. I wasn’t sure I was ready for the first-aid part of my job, but I’d do my best.
Alexei threw the first punch, which Ryder blocked. It went on like that for a few minutes before the crowd started getting restless. Shouts for one or the other to quit dancing around already and get to fighting could be heard around the room.
Finally, Alexei lunged, landing a blow to Ryder’s head. Blood spurted from a cut above his eyes, but it was as if Ryder anticipated the move, and he swept his leg out, catching Alexei behind the knees. Ryder landed on top, throwing punch after punch to Alexei’s face. The bell rang, and Chrissy used her hip to nudge me.
“Your turn, girl.” She winked. “That’s your guy in there, ain’t it?”
“That’s my guy.”
“Then give him some encouragement. You’ve got this!”
I stepped onto the mat, swinging my hips, hoping I was giving an adequate interpretation of someone who wasn’t scared to death. My gaze kept drifting over to Ryder, who was having to care for his own wounds. After this round, I’d make sure I was in his corner to do that. Blood was oozing from the cut above his eye, and it was only then that I saw a couple of cuts on his body as well. Deep gashes that could not have come from the force of someone’s knuckles.
A new fear fell over me like a foggy haze, and my knees went a little wobbly. I walked a bit faster and ignored some of the jeers I heard to wiggle that thang more. I was too distracted by Ryder’s injuries. When I’d made my lap, I rushed over and knelt beside him.
He handed me some petroleum jelly. “Here, put this on the wounds on my side, please. Thirty seconds till the bell.” He spoke in Sasha’s voice, and it startled me for a moment. I just gazed at him with what I assumed was a horrified expression.
Ryder snapped his fingers. “Jolie. A little help?”
I jumped to attention, taking the jelly from his hand and swiping it across the blood of his cuts on his ribs. “Razor blades?”
Ryder nodded, not answering aloud. “Guess I’ll have to keep his fists away from me this round.”
“Guess so. You mind ending it quickly so we can get out of here?”
Ryder grinned and bowed his head. “Your wish is my command.”
The bell rang, and I barely escaped before both men rushed at each other. It was clear Alexei was rattled, his steps stumbling a bit. But Ryder was patient, taking his time but also avoiding Alexei’s deadly gloves.
True to his word, Ryder made quick work of his opponent, taking him down with a couple of well-placed hits. The announcer counted down then lifted Ryder’s arm.
“The winner is Sasha Petrov!”
The audience cheered, and I took in the mayhem, delighted that Ryder had won. My eyes landed on a very handsome man in a Kelly-green suit with a crisp, white shirt underneath, the collar unbuttoned to an unfashionable degree. Only it worked on him. He was older, his black hair streaked with gray. The word debonair came to mind. He was staring right at me, a warm smile on his face. Very unlike the cold gaze of the big Russian from earlier.
I smiled back, unable to help myself, when another man came to stand beside him. I gasped, recognition hitting me like a brick to the face.
Angel Rubio.
The guys had made sure I knew what he looked like. I was supposed to keep my eyes open and let Ryder know as soon as I saw him. Unfortunately, Ryder was still on the mat making his victory loop.
The man in the green suit saw the surprise on my face, and his smile dropped, turning to suspicion. I tried to find my earlier flirty sass, but it was no use. I’d let my guard down, and the man had noticed.
The handsome man turned to face Angel, who shot a piercing look at me. I immediately looked away, trying to distract myself. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Angel nod to the man and start his path towards me.
Escape. I had to get out of there. Whatever Angel Rubio wanted with me, it couldn’t be good.
I moved quickly, heading for the gate where Ryder would exit. He was standing with the announcer, who was asking him some question about his goals or his training or something like that. I couldn’t really be bothered.
Fortunately, it seemed Ryder was looking for me, too. When I nodded to my left and then mouthed Rubio, he got the picture and gave the announcer an answer in his Sasha voice and excused himself.
When he reached me, he picked me up under my arms and spun me around, setting me down on my feet and kissing me with passion. A confident man who’d just had an amazing victory, celebrating with his fiancé. With one arm looped around my shoulders, he walked away from the ring with me in tow.
I didn’t risk a look behind me to see if Rubio had followed. My guess was that he’d wait for another time to confront me with whatever the green-suit man wanted. Ryder and I tucked in behind one of the stone pillars where I’d stuck our first-aid bag and my clothes. It wasn’t like I had anywhere to put it in my current getup.
Ryder sat on the floor, and I sat down next to him, opening the bag for antiseptic wipes, cream, and bandages. I opened my mouth to speak, but Ryder put a finger to his lips and shook his head.
Not here. Got it.
“How are you feeling?” I asked instead.
“Sore, but otherwise okay.” He was still in character. He did it so well, played this role of someone else, that I wondered what it cost him to sink back into this persona. I had a feeling there was more to his backstory than just being an undercover operative. I wondered if it had something to do with why he kept me at arm’s length.
I wiped at the cut above his eye, which was still running rivulets of blood down his face.
“I can’t get it to stop bleeding. I think you need stitches.”
Ryder shook his head. “No time. It’s a head wound. They bleed a lot.”
It was more than that. The cut was a good inch wide, and so deep I could almost see the bone. He needed stitches, but I knew that getting to a hospital right now was out of the question. I’d be summoned at any moment for the ring-girl competition, and afterwards we could get the proper care.
“Fine. I’ll try to butterfly it closed after I disinfect it.”
The wipes were just smearing blood everywhere, so I took out the small bottle of alcohol and a cotton pad.
“This is going to burn.” Ryder just shrugged in response. Holding the pad above his eye, I doused the cut in alcohol. His body stiffened, and he let out a low hiss, but otherwise seemed unperturbed by the stinging liquid.
I pinched the sides of the cut together and placed a butterfly bandage over the damaged flesh to hold it fast. It was still oozing blood, so I took another pad of gauze and folded it over before taping it in place.
“That should keep for a little while.” I glanced over my shoulder at the movement in the ring. The girls were already congregating. I still needed to get my number and get into place. “I’ve got to go.”
I stood and held out my hand to help Ryder up. He rolled his eyes but took it without complaint. He looped his arm around my waist, and we started towards the stage. Before we reached it, a man stepped in front of us. It was Angel Rubio.
I felt Ryder stiffen slightly beside me, but his face gave away nothing. Ryder eyed the man then let go of me.
“You have a problem, sir?” Ryder asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Rubio didn’t answer, but continued to stare at us. His face softened suddenly, and he smiled at me.
“My boss requested the presence of this young lady, but I see she is already spoken for.”
“Yes—sorry.” My voice came out all wrong, sort of choked up and scratchy. I cleared my throat. “Please give your boss my apologies.”
Rubio dipped his head, bowing slightly. “Of course.”
With another half bow, he stepped back into the crowd and disappeared. Ryder put his arm around my shoulders and drew me close. “I’m ready to get out of here.”
“Me too.”
Too many bad guys in one room.