Adrian's Wrath (4 page)

The announcer rang the bell and his opponent, Slick, grinned and charged forward. These mediocre fighters he was matched with were always the same. Their anger and greed made them sloppy. All they were thinking about was the payout. Adrian didn’t give two shits about the money he would earn tonight. Sure, it helped, but the real reason he was here was strictly personal.

Slick swung his meaty fist out and Adrian easily dodged it. He threw a right hook, landing a solid hit in Slick’s side. A deep grunt was the only response Slick made before swinging again. Moving to the left, Adrian brought his fist up and connected with his opponent’s jaw. Blood started a slow trickle out of his mouth and Adrian didn’t wait to land another one on him. Throwing a left punch, he slammed his knuckles into Slick’s nose. Blood sprayed like a fountain and bathed the unfortunate drunks watching on the sidelines. The cheers erupted as Slick weaved slightly. Adrian had to give him credit. He managed to stay on his feet.

He swung first his left arm and then his right toward Adrian. They were easy enough moves to avoid, and he knew he needed to finish this so he could move onto the next sorry fuck. Ducking to avoid getting hit in the head, Adrian slammed his shoulder in Slick’s chest and brought the guy down. They wrestled on the floor for dominance and finally, when Adrian had the upper hand and straddled the man’s chest, he started throwing fist after fist. Blood coated both of their chests, faces, and the white mats beneath them. Slick struggled at first, but soon he was lying limply beneath him. Adrian pulled himself off and took several steps back. A few medics rushed forward to make sure Slick was still breathing. Once Adrian was announced the winner, he quickly made his way toward the same back door he had come through. He needed to get cleaned up and have a few drinks before his next fight.

Sharps and Coots stopped him with large grins on their faces. “Dude, you’re a fucking monster in the cage.” Coots shoved the envelope into his hand and let Adrian push past them.. “Tate is one happy man with you right now. Keep it up, Adrian,” Coots yelled from behind him but Adrian didn’t bother responding. He didn’t like Tate. It had nothing to do with the fact the man was doing all kinds of illegal shit, the underground cage fights only a small portion of it. Tate just seemed like one bad motherfucker. Adrian tolerated him and his shit because he used these fights as an outlet and to cope, and because it saved him from getting into random ones with strangers on the street and the risk of getting thrown in jail. He also got paid to do it.

After washing up in the small bathroom reserved for such occasions, Adrian put on a pair of jeans and a black tee. He didn’t have another fight for a couple of hours and he needed to unwind a bit before he got back in the cage. Muttering his thanks to the spectators that congratulated him, he made his way toward the bar. All he wanted was a few drinks without being bugged. Maybe he shouldn’t show annoyance toward these people. If not for them he wouldn’t have a job. Despite that knowledge he still couldn’t muster enough energy to give a fuck.

“Give me a double of Crown,” he said as he leaned his elbows on the bar and breathed out roughly. The bartender poured him his drink right away and Adrian shot it back. He tapped his knuckles on the counter to gesture for anther.

“Can I get two Millers, one Corona, and a Ruby Red Slipper?”

That voice. Adrian would be able to recognize it anywhere because it haunted his dreams. Even after only hearing it once he couldn’t get it out of his mind. Cutting a glance to the side, he watched Brea. She hadn’t spotted him yet, but he knew she would. It never failed. As if she sensed his stare she always found him. Why he put himself through this shit he didn’t know. Maybe it was because he was a glutton for punishment?

She stacked her drinks on her tray and headed back into the crowd. Adrian held the shot glass to his lips and slowly let the alcohol slide down his throat, never taking his eyes off of her. Tate had since put a few tables against the walls. She stopped in front of one, deposited two beers, and made her way to the other one filled with men already three sheets to the wind drunk. It wasn’t his place to watch her, like he was some kind of fucking creep, but he couldn’t help it, damn it! He was about to turn around and mind his own damn business when he saw one of the men slap her ass. His entire body went tense and he felt his hands curl into fists.
Oh hell no.

* * * *

Brea knew he was going to touch her ass before he actually did it. That was the problem with working with a bunch of inebriated customers. It never failed to result in some kind of harassment. Taking a step to the side, his hand should have slid off her ass, but instead he gripped her waist and pulled her toward him.

“Come on, baby.” His breath could have gotten her drunk alone. His eyes were bloodshot and he had a droopy sort of expression on his face. Hell, all of the men at his table wore the exact same expression.

“Can I get you guys anything else?” She needed to keep this professional and make sure her fear didn’t show. These types of men fed off of it, she could tell. She took a step back but he had an iron grip on her waist.

“Yeah, how about you with nothing on and spread wide.”

His words were vulgar and ridiculous. It took everything in her not to roll her eyes and pour his Miller right over his head. “Excuse me.” She made a move to leave again but his grip tightened almost painfully and her heart started beating fast. Memories assaulted her and she had to close her eyes and take a deep breath to push them into the furthest recesses of her mind. Usually when she gave the drunks the brush-off they relented, but this one seemed a little too aggressive and sure about himself.

“Please stop touching me.” He either didn’t hear or he didn’t care because his hand started running up her side. A second later she felt it gone and she breathed out. Clearly he was smarter than she gave him credit for. When she opened her eyes she sucked in a gasp as she stared at Adrian standing before her mauler, his jaw clenched tight and his knuckles white from gripping the other man’s arm. The muscles in his bicep strained from the force he was using on the man’s arm.

“I believe the lady asked you to stop touching her.” His voice was deadly calm, but she didn’t miss the clear warning laced in it. “I should take you out back and break your arms and legs. Maybe slam my fist into both of your eyes so that you remember what will happen if you ignore another woman’s plea.”

All Brea could do was stare at Adrian. Standing this close to him had her entire body singing with electricity.
Has he always been this tall, this broad and muscular?
The tendons strained beneath his tanned flesh, and she could see dark lines of ink peeking from beneath the edge of his shirt sleeve. She knew how delicious his body looked with that ink. She had seen it whenever she closed her eyes.

The guy that had accosted her visibly swallowed and cut a glance to his buddies, possibly hoping for a little help. His friends knew better, though. They all shifted in their seats and cleared their throats. They knew Adrian. Everyone did that came to these fights. Besides, Adrian was twice the size of a normal man, these assholes included.

“Okay, okay. No harm no foul, man.” The man who had groped Brea looked genuinely scared shitless when he saw Adrian. Adrian let go of the guy’s arm but didn’t move away.

“No harm, no foul?” Adrian took a threatening step forward, the menace pouring off of him in waves. Was she about to see him fight this guy up close and personal? Outside of the cage? Fear started building inside of her like a raging storm. She could hear ragged breathing and knew she would pass out. Everything around her seemed to fade and she knew she needed to get out of here or she would lose it.

Strong arms gripped her shoulders and she was being led through the crowd. She smelled him before she saw him. It was the same masculine and intoxicating scent that seemed to envelop her, wash through her. How could she forget that scent when it had been the first thing her senses had registered all those weeks ago? The night air blew her hair around and it was then she realized she was outside of the club. Maybe she should have been scared shitless that she was now alone with Adrian, but that fear didn’t surface.

“Hey, are you okay?” He didn’t touch her again and she had mixed feelings about that.

“I’m fine, thank you,” she said as she took a deep breath and finally lifted her gaze to his. He stood several feet away from her, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans, a look of concern etched in his extremely handsome features. Every time she looked at him, even when he was pummeling some guy’s face, she couldn’t help but take note of his raw masculinity. Oh, he wasn’t handsome in the classical sense. Not with the rough, sharp planes of his face, his fuller lips that seemed to have a perpetual frown on them, and the hint of a five o’clock shadow that covered his hard jaw, but he was gorgeous to her, nonetheless.

“You didn’t look fine. You look a little shell shocked right now.” She didn’t respond, because even though she did feel that way she didn’t want to admit it to him.

“Yeah, well, dealing with assholes is in the job description.” Her laugh was meant to lighten the situation but it sounded humorless even to her. She knew she had freaked out over something that happened to the waitresses every night of the week. “I’m not a head case, really. I’ve just…” No, she had already said too much. What was wrong with her? She had been on the verge of actually telling him why she had acted like a freak back there. Shaking her head, she forced herself to hold his gaze. Why did he make her feel so unhinged when no other man did?

“I don’t think you acted like a head case.” He grinned down at her and her heart beat a little faster. “In fact, if it’ll make you smile I’ll go kick that guy’s ass into next Sunday.”

Although she knew he had been about to not too long ago, his comment held a teasing tone in it and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Ahh, there it is.”

“There is what?” His stare was doing things to her. Things that excited her but also made her nervous as hell.

“The smile I’ve been wanting to see for some time.” He ran a hand over his short dark hair and glanced away from her. Was he actually embarrassed by his comment? “Not that I’m some damn creeper or anything. It’s just”—he paused—“fuck, I’m sorry. I’m acting all weird now.”

It was almost endearing to see him act so flustered. Adrian was a big man, and all she had ever seen from him was this stone-cold hardness that put lesser men to shame. Now, the way he grinned at her, he almost seemed…boyish.

“I’m Brea, by the way. Listen, thank you so much for helping me out back there. I kind of freaked out, and if you hadn’t helped me, I probably would have still been standing there taking that guy’s shit.” That might not have been the whole truth. Since leaving Cameron she had taken a few self-defense classes and knew how to handle herself to an extent. The only problem was her fear always made her immobile so it was hard for her to put that self-defense training to good use. That was a problem she was going to have to get over fast if she had a chance of surviving.

He continued to watch her and it made her feel like he could see inside of her, that he knew what she was saying was a load of shit. It had taken a long time for her to get past the abuse from Cameron and realize it wasn’t her fault, that she was a person, too, and deserved to be respected and loved. Maybe one day she would feel like that with another man. Maybe one day she could put her issues aside and actually let herself trust another person. As she looked into Adrian’s eyes, eyes that she knew were a beautiful blue color but that right now looked black from the shadows, she wished he was the one that she could let herself be free with. Here he had saved her for a second time, had pulled her out of a situation where she could have royally fucked up and lost her job. She needed this job, needed the money it paid her so she could finally start over and completely be someone new.

“Thanks again, but I should probably head back in there. I don’t want my boss to get mad at me.” She smiled, hoping to relieve some of the tension she felt was starting to build. “I kind of need this job.”

“I’m sure Tate will understand.”

She wasn’t surprised he knew Tate. He was, after all, fighting in the owner’s illegal cage fights. What surprised her though was that he seemed pretty confident that Tate wouldn’t care that one of his employees was outside socializing when they should have been working.

“Maybe, but I don’t want to test it.” She lifted her hand in a pathetic wave good-bye and turned to go back inside. “I really do owe you for saving me once again. Thank you,” she said over her shoulder.

“Wait.” He spoke softly yet that one word had her stopping and glancing over her shoulder.

Even after everything with Cameron, she desperately wanted to be close to Adrian. Which confused her since she knew nothing about him. There was just this connection she felt with him, but it was foolish and she knew it. Even after all the pain Cameron had put her through she wanted to connect with Adrian, wanted to let him hold her hand, hug her close to his big body, and tell her everything would be okay. Brea held her breath, waiting for him to continue.

“Maybe that payment can be dinner with me.” She turned fully around and knew her eyes had to look like saucers. “I know you probably don’t remember me”—he cleared his throat—“but—”

“I remember you.” She smiled at him, but she was also smiling because he wanted to see more of her. “Your name is Adrian and you saved me from more drunks weeks ago. It’s something I am not likely to forget, I assure you.” She felt like she was rambling, but his lopsided grin put her at ease. “It seems I’m prone to attracting the lushes.” He let out a breath, as if he had been holding it.

“Good, I mean I’m glad you remember me.” He ran his hand over the back of his neck again and she wondered if it was something he did when he was nervous. “So, uh, what do you say about dinner? If dinner is too much maybe you’d like to get coffee with me one of these days? We do keep coming across each other and I know I’d like to get to know you better. I don’t want to pressure you or anything. You really don’t owe me anything.” His grin widened. “I’m rambling.” A beat of silence passed between them and he said, “Maybe you’d even feel sorry for me enough to agree to keep me company over a meal.”