Sons of Justice 9: Fighting Chance (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever) Read online

  Rossi, that soldier friend of Farrow, Cole, J.T., and Luke’s popped into her head. Sure wasn’t too smart flirting with a man like him or his buddies Greco, Ricci, and Romano. She felt her cheeks heat up and her belly get all funny inside. She was such an idiot. Plus, Romano, the one who seemed oldest of the four and in charge, he had a way about him that put her on edge. Made her feel like he didn’t trust a soul, was maybe even paranoid. She hadn’t asked any questions about them, and she wanted to, and that was a first for her.

  When she’d stood at the kitchen counter in Farrow’s home when visiting Brazille, the last thing she expected was for Rossi to press up against her, place a hand on her hip, and ease his palm along her waist. She’d felt his breath against her neck and shoulder, and her pussy had spasmed. Never had she ever had such a reaction to a man. Well, to men. Because, not soon after that, Ricci and Greco made a similar move, and at one point, while she stood by the back of the couch looking at the television screen and laughing at something Luke said, Greco eased by her and she felt his hand slide along her hip, down her thighs, and then over her ass as he stood next to her.

  She completely tightened up. Froze in place like a deer caught in headlights. He was so big, muscular and sexy, plus he smelled really good. It was a combination of a pleasant cologne and cigar smoke. She had noticed the men walked outside to smoke some cigars and bullshit while they drank. Seeing men with such charismatic personalities engage in that activity for some reason aroused her. She found it sexy and macho. But she also felt completely out of their league. Not only because of their killer military capabilities but because of their personalities and ages. They were all late thirties, had seen and experienced the world, the violence and craziness of other cultures and places across the globe. She’d never left Texas. Not even for school. She just went far enough to dorm away to stay clear of her mom’s bad habits and slutty lifestyle. She worked hard to pay her own bills, budgeted things out, and was careful in every decision she made, including who she slept with.

  She wasn’t good at that either. Only two lovers and she held back with each of them. She’d been scared out of her mind the first time she had sex in college, but at least she’d dated Billy for months, so it wasn’t some one-night stand and regret. Plus he’d been out of college already, too. Then there was Ross. Oh boy, Ross was hot, and he’d known it, but his charms and commitment to her were real for about two months, but once again, her inability to let down her guard fully had gotten in the way of it going any further, and she was fine with that. Her hardened heart kept her focused and on track.

  Besides, it wasn’t like she wanted anyone to meet her mother or to see what type of woman she was. Any man who saw that might think that Merica would turn out the same way. She was never going to be like her mom. Merica decided that before she was old enough to even realize the struggles she would need to overcome. Everything was an obstacle in life. There always seemed to be a feeling like there were burdens, situations that reminded her of her shitty life, of working to achieve everything she had and would ever have, and certain things scared her. Other things she thought of as challenges to her fears, and she was always looking for ways to improve herself and her abilities. Working a lot kind of put a damper on some of those plans, but she knew if she really wanted to do something or achieve something, she just needed to set her mind on it and she would do it. Eventually.

  She hated to admit it, but she thought of Flick’s place in the same way. It was a very cool place, and the energy there was awesome. So much so that she wanted to engage in some sort of training there, but she didn’t want to look like some of the other women who showed up looking for training. They were out to land some guy there. She wasn’t. Even though she knew Flick well, and a few other soldiers who worked out there, never mind some cops from Repose, she still didn’t want to be lumped into that groupie category.

  The place was always crowded, and it was so big that they had their own boxing ring and a cage for MMA fighting, plus mats for martial arts, wrestling, and grappling, and it was quite the impressive establishment. Flick offered self-defense training, Muay Thai, and other forms of martial arts training, even kickboxing.

  “So I want to go there to hang out with Brick and Burrow for a little while because they have some sort of thing to go to tonight. I think it’s some kind of meeting about fighting. I don’t know. I kind of worry about them.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I don’t know if anything is wrong. Well, I guess I’m worried for a lot of reasons but mostly they’ve been extra quiet, kind of moody. They were pissed because I’ve been working so much, and they haven’t gotten a lot of hours with work. I think they’re hoping that this guy they know can hook them up with some job. I don’t know what it is, but they said the money is great. They just might have to be gone for a weekend here and there or a couple of nights during the week. They were thrilled because they can get more training in.”

  “Well, it sounds positive. What is the job?”

  “I don’t know. They told me not to worry. I think they feel a little inferior because I have a steady job at the medical center. I’ve been paying most of the bills, and I can understand that it upsets them, but I know they’ll find better jobs and that they’ve been looking. So whatever this is, I pray it’s something that brings them more money so they feel like they’re taking care of me instead of the other way around.”

  “I hope so, too. I can understand that you paying for everything would take its toll on them. Men like to be able to take care of a woman in all aspects.”

  As they drove there, Kerry had been texting on her cell phone.

  “Oh my God. I can’t believe it.”

  “What?” Merica asked her.

  “Hook is there.”

  “Hook?” Merica asked, surprised by the odd nickname.

  “Yeah, he’s crazy. He’s like a total psycho MMA fighter. He doesn’t talk to anyone, he looks ready to kill, and he has this mean right hook that just comes out of nowhere and knocks guys out. He grapples here and there doing instruction but was away for a few weeks. He’s so mean he doesn’t even talk to his family. Well, that’s what we heard.”

  “Sounds like a nut case,” Merica replied.

  “A big, sexy nut case.”

  “What?” Merica asked.

  “You’ll see. Maybe he’ll even spar today. When he goes in the cage, the ring, or on the mats, he’s a killer. I can’t believe he’s going to be there today. Brick and Burrow are so psyched to see him in action. He only trains select people, he’s that good, but also that anti-social.”

  “Wonderful. Yeah, I’m thrilled,” Merica said sarcastically.

  “Uh-huh. Just wait until you see his body, then you can tell me how uninterested you are.”

  “Kerry, you have Brick and Burrow.”

  “Yes I do, and they have super bodies, too, but this guy Hook has that entire intimidating, arousing look to him. Do you remember how big, muscular and tall the Undertaker was in wrestling on TV? Well, Hook puts him to shame because he is so good looking, too, and those tattoos, the rugged beard, mercy me. Sexy, badass, lethal, and throw in the bad-boy tattoos all over him and those dark brown eyes that glare in accusation and, holy shit, he’d make a nun come.”

  Merica laughed.

  “I have got to see this.” Merica pulled into the parking lot.

  * * * *

  Cardesso “Hook” Imperie warmed up on the mats. Normally he wouldn’t bother to spar today, but Lucky Spence was running his mouth, and he needed to be put in his place. The guy thought he had what it took to go all the way, but he didn’t. Worse part was Lucky had been a friend of his at one time but now dipped into illegal shit. Including betting on matches, doing some drugs, and hanging with criminals. An element that Flick did not want to start setting down roots at the gym.

  Hook had been antsy the last few days and on edge. His brother and team were away on a mission, and it bothered him. That could hav
e been him, too, if he hadn’t lost his shit all together. He felt that anger boiling inside of him.

  He and Lucky had served in boot camp together, and then Lucky went on to become a Ranger and failed out. Cardesso went on to become Special Forces and succeeded until a mission failed and he got out. It was a mess he didn’t talk about or think about. Not even with his brother, Romano, who he respected and who had helped him in many ways but also made him feel inferior. It was stupid, but it was how Hook felt.

  Romano and his team—Greco, Ricci, and Rossi—were all part of an elite team of soldiers in Sons of Justice. His brother was a success, and Cardesso had sour feelings about that, as well as some disagreements that went back as far as their childhoods. He didn’t like talking to Romano, and Romano didn’t like talking to him because a lot of the time it ended in arguments. Mostly caused by Hook. Yet, they all lived on the same estate, a huge ten-bedroom house with a ranch right outside of the campground where most members of SoJ resided.

  He threw a few jabs in the air while he did some fancy, quick footwork. Whenever he was getting ready to fight, he got super focused. Didn’t let anything distract him. A quick glance around the cage and he could see that a crowd was forming. He caused that crowd. People wanting to see him in action. He didn’t fight for anyone but himself. He was kind of itching to throw his fists. Had been since returning after doing a job for his old friend Patrick Clover, who everyone called Clover, a big burly Irishman who owned a bar in Houston. It was a large, upscale place with three floors and filled with testosterone. He had a couple of events going on the last few weeks he’d needed help with, and Hook went along to assist and got paid a hefty twenty grand. He got to train during the day at one of the MMA fighting gyms in Houston where he knew a few trainers and then work the bar scene at night, providing security for celebrities and even a couple of thugs.

  It was all good, and it wasn’t like he needed the money. A few big fights in the underground cage and he made a shitload of money. He only did those when he was pissed off or having difficulty sleeping when his PTSD kicked in. He almost had that beat though. Fighting, boxing, training, all seemed to calm his mind and also exhaust him.

  A year ago he’d been the worse for wear, being dragged into the underground circuit, destroying everyone and everything in his path. He would come out of warehouses bruised up, ribs battered or broken because no one called a fight even when the other guy was about to die. No, it was bad, illegal shit, and a time or two when he’d been bet against by some drug dealers and they were about to lose money, other men jumped into the fight. It turned into a battle of life or death. It took a lot to get out of that evil environment. He was still paying for those decisions, even every now and then when Spike called him wanting him to show up and fight, to destroy a new up-and-coming fighter and make a shitload of money. When he did, everyone went nuts, and no one would dare fight him. He had power in that circuit, had power with Spike to an extent, but he didn’t trust any of them. In a flash he could be forced to fight, a gun to his head or a threat to anyone close to him. Rule number one—there were no rules.

  Now Lucky Spence was being sucked in, and soon enough, he would wind up a bloody mess, crippled, permanently injured, or dead.

  “Are you going to fight me, you pussy, or what?” Lucky yelled, and his buddies laughed as Lucky threw a few jabs in the air and then raised his arms up looking for the small crowd of people now watching to encourage him.

  Hook didn’t bat an eye at his antics. He thought about a couple of the incidents in Houston and how he’d been forced to not tear new assholes for a few dick guys who had gotten handsy with some young women. He thought about the few times he’d needed to rein in his anger and not put his fist through someone’s face. And he stood by the opening of the cage as Flick checked his gloves.

  “Don’t kill him, please. I don’t need that kind of heat on me,” Flick said to him. He didn’t respond, and then he heard Flick curse under his breath. Flick had known him for years. He knew when he was in the zone and that nothing else mattered but destroying his opponent. This spontaneous cage fight didn’t faze him one bit. He was ready as Lucky put his mouthpiece in and Hook waited for the ref to start the fight.

  * * * *

  Merica was standing next to Kerry. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing and hearing. The crowd of people, mostly men, training at the gym were all pushing toward the cage. She spotted the guy they called Hook right away before Kerry even pointed him out. He was huge, at six feet four at least, filled with muscles, all defined and appearing as if they were chiseled from marble. Add in the intricate tattoos and he looked scary. Intimidation wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe the man’s appearance. His hair was long, too. Pulled back in a ponytail to his shoulders, jet black. He had tanned skin, there was not an ounce of fat on the man. That beard made him look carnal, like a caged animal, as he glared at his opponent.

  The other guy, a blond, was pretty buffed out with muscles and some tattoos, but he didn’t seem as crazy looking or intense as Hook.

  It didn’t take an expert to notice, as the bell rang and they began to spar, that Hook was playing with the guy. “That’s Lucky. He’s a bit of a jerk. Got dishonorably discharged from the Rangers in the military. Total attitude, and women go nuts over him,” Kerry told her.

  Merica glanced at that guy, and as she did, she saw him take a few shots at Hook and connect with Hook’s jaw, but Hook didn’t seem fazed by it at all. Next thing she knew, Hook looked raged and threw a right hook at Lucky’s face, and that was it. Lucky went literally flying backward onto his back and was out cold. The ref and another guy, a medical guy she thought, stopped Hook from continuing to beat the crap out of Lucky as the crowd of people went wild and started cheering, “Hook, Hook, Hook.”

  She was close enough to see Hook’s facial expression, and the man looked like a monster. She hadn’t moved out of the way in time as the guys tried to slap his arm, congratulate him or say something, and she gasped as she felt the arm go around her waist just as her eyes locked onto Hook’s dark brown, psycho-killer eyes. She didn’t react fast enough as she pushed down on the arm that was wrapped around her midsection and didn’t recognize the guy holding on to her.

  “Let go,” she demanded.

  “Hey, let go of her,” Kerry yelled at the guy.

  “You want to see a real fighter up close, baby? Come on, I’ll show you. There’s an empty room back here.”

  His buddies chuckled as they all eyed her over.

  “Let her go, Carlos,” Brick yelled and stepped forward.

  Merica only knew a few defense moves, and as he turned his back, pulling her away with his buddies laughing, she swung her elbow back into his gut, turned as he released her, and went to swing, but the man was lifted off the floor and tossed to the right by Hook. She was shocked. Couldn’t move. The guy’s buddies were picking him up off the ground, and Flick was calming Hook down and telling him it was okay as Kerry, Brick, and Burrow were asking Merica if she was okay, but she wasn’t. She started shaking and stared way up at Hook, and he stared right at her. His eyes whisked over her body, and her nipples instantly hardened and her pussy clenched. And she was shocked some more, but then Flick stepped away from Hook and was in front of her, grabbing her shoulders.

  “Are you okay, Merica?”

  “Yes. Fine.”

  “Fucking assholes. Those guys have been pissing me off all morning. They’re friends of Lucky’s.”

  “Figures,” she replied, knowing that Lucky sounded like a jerk from how Kerry described him.

  She glanced at Hook as he walked by, looking pissed off still, and the only thing that was missing from his facial expression was foam coming from his mouth. Why would anyone ever want to mess with a man who looked like Hook?

  “Come on, I’m never going to get you to come train here if guys like that continue to bother you,” he said, sounding annoyed.

  “I don’t understand why they went after her. We
were just watching like everyone else,” Kerry said.

  Merica had a feeling she knew why. She did work some hours at The Ring, bartending besides doing the books for the owner, Captain. More than likely those guys that bothered her were regulars there. Once men found out she was single, they were relentless in trying to get dates with her. It was why she didn’t hang out around town here but instead headed into Repose where she could feel safe and also keep her distance. All she had to do was say “not interested,” and it seemed to work.

  “Come on in. There’s something I needed to talk to you about,” Flick said to her.

  “We’ll leave you guys alone to talk,” Kerry said as Brick wrapped an arm around her waist and walked her away.

  “First of all, aside from that bullshit that just happened, how are you?” Flick asked. She smiled.

  He knew a bit about her mom and Rodge as well as her dad. His cousin was good friends with her father. Flick was in his forties, a good-looking man with dark brown crew-cut hair, a retired navy Seal.

  “Fine, so what’s going on?” she asked, hoping he got her hint about not wanting to discuss Rodge or her mom. Not many people knew her mom had issues. She overdrank and spent her father’s insurance money like crazy. Her boyfriend was a jerk and everyone who met him knew it. He’d even smacked her around a few times, and Merica tried to confront her mom on that, but she always denied it.

  He exhaled and then licked his lower lip. “Okay, since you obviously don’t want to talk about them, I need a favor. It would be for a few weeks only, I think, well, maybe longer. Celia is sick. She found out last week that she has cancer.”

  “What? Oh God no, how bad, Flick?” she asked. Celia was his bookkeeper and a friend of the family, an older woman in her sixties who was as tough as nails.

  “Pretty damn bad. She’s already started chemotherapy and radiation. She tried to work from home, but her husband, Barry, said she’s too sick. Throwing up, passing out from exhaustion, and it’s just too much for her. She didn’t want me to hire anyone else, but then I mentioned you. She said you were the only one she would trust taking care of the books.”