Stoned (Unlikely Heroes Book 4) (24 page)

Karen sensed Rebel would be damaged much worse if he lost the fight than Stoner would. If Rebel lost, it would confirm everyone’s belief that he was a weakling. Though the kid didn’t lack in self-esteem—at least not when it came to his looks—she knew his pride would be damaged if he lost this fight. Whatever demons he was facing, whatever horror his father had inflicted upon him, would haunt him worse than it already did.

Rebel
had
to win.

If she could somehow find a moment alone with Stoner without Viper being aware, she could talk to him about it and convince him that her logic was best, that he had to let Rebel win.

She rose from the edge of the bed. “Think about what I said. I’m going to visit Tonya and her new baby.”

Rebel nodded, though he appeared to be too distracted to care.

Karen found Stoner in the videogame room a few minutes later. He was waiting his turn while one of the other bikers was playing. Karen paused in the doorway and watched him for a moment. She missed him. Missed cuddling against him at night. Missed their witty banter. Missed his crudeness and his smartass remarks. She just missed…him.

Stoner looked tired. In pain. Miserable. Her heart twisted. Was their forced separation hurting him as much as it hurt her?

Karen had come to try to convince him to let Rebel kick his ass. Her suggestion was going to be met with great resistance. But she had to try. For Rebel’s sake.

She strolled into the room.

Stoner’s head jerked up. His gaze skewered hers. He straightened on the couch, then winced at the pain in his ribs.

“Karen.” He nodded at her. “We’re not supposed to be around each other.”

“I know.” She sank down on the couch next to him. “I just want to talk to you for a moment.”

The other biker—Weasel, she thought his name was—glanced at her, then went back to his game.

She leaned closer and whispered in his ear, “You have to lose this fight.”

He stiffened and drew back. “The hell I will.” He glared down at her. “Why? Did you decide you preferred the pretty boy over me?”

Karen groaned. “Stoner, it’s not that. It’s just…you know that young man is damaged. Everyone thinks he’s a wimp. If he loses, it’ll crush him.”

“I’m not throwing the fight so you can keep cuddling up to that damn kid. Give it up, Karen. I hate to lose.” He stared at the television, avoiding her gaze.

She stared at his profile, waiting, until he finally turned to meet her gaze. His eyes were stormy, tumultuous, angry.

“Why are you so against doing that?” she whispered. “You know his father abused him as a child, don’t you? Don’t you think he’s suffered enough violence and humiliation? It would hurt him far more to lose than it would you. You’re tough. He’s not. And if you seriously think I prefer that boy to you, then you’re a damn fool.” She jumped to her feet.

He wrapped his hand around her wrist, halting her escape. He yanked her back onto the couch. She sputtered, pushing against him. One of her hands struck his ribs. He grunted, but he didn’t release her. His gaze impaled hers.

“You think Viper’s gonna let me live if I don’t win this fight?” He spoke into her ear, barely louder than a whisper, obviously so Weasel wouldn’t overhear. “I’m already on borrowed time here. I can’t believe he hasn’t killed me yet. Is that what you want? Me to die?” He leaned back, stared into her eyes. “You think Rebel will stand in the way when Viper decides it’s time to kill you? Fuck no. He’ll run and cower in a corner. No one else will save you from Viper. No one but me. But the time has to be right. And I can’t save you if I’m fucking dead.”

He released her abruptly and turned away, staring at the screen where Weasel’s character—a soldier of some type—battled a giant alien.

Karen rose from the couch.

Fine, then.

Stoner didn’t look at her as she walked away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Stoner mulled Karen’s words over in his mind after she left. She had a point, but she didn’t understand the dynamics of this place or how Viper ran things. Viper needed Rebel to treat his dogs. Viper did not need Stoner. Viper was looking for an opportunity to take Stoner out. Stoner believed that was why he’d arranged this fight. He wanted Stoner to lose so he would have an excuse to get rid of him. Stoner was weak from his recent beatings. He would be easy to conquer. Viper didn’t need Stoner to clone the pot. He only needed Karen. But for some reason, Viper had let Stoner live. Though Stoner was suspicious about that, he tried not to dwell on it too much. He was alive. For now, that was all that mattered. He just had to stay that way.

As much as he didn’t want to hurt Rebel, Stoner couldn’t lose the fight. The kid’s pride would be damaged if he lost, but he’d recover eventually. Viper wouldn’t kill him. He’d probably mock him and beat him down some more, but there would come a point where the kid either broke or fought back. That was what Viper was looking for. He liked to break down the weak and make them strong. Stoner didn’t totally disagree with that, though he believed Viper’s methods were a bit harsh. He had to agree if Rebel was going to survive this place for much longer, he needed to toughen up.

But Karen’s words kept running through his mind.     

You know his father abused him as a child, don’t you? Don’t you think he’s suffered enough violence and humiliation?

Stoner hadn’t known that. He’d known the kid had multiple drug charges and was facing many years in prison if he was convicted. He’d believed Rebel was just like many other actors who couldn’t handle the fame and turned to drugs. Now, thanks to Karen, he pitied the boy. An abusive father. How had Karen found that out? Stoner had been around Rebel for several weeks and the kid had never mentioned that. Somehow Karen had managed to get Rebel to open up to her. She was closer to Rebel than she was to him.

An unexpected surge of jealousy swept through him. It was his own fault. He hadn’t told her much of anything about himself. It was best if she didn’t know. Viper couldn’t torture the truth out of her if she didn’t know the truth. But it still hurt knowing he couldn’t tell her everything. He wanted to tell her. He wanted her to know who he really was. If they survived this place, he vowed he would tell her everything. He only hoped she would forgive him for all the things that had happened to her so far and for everything that might happen before shey escaped. It was bound to get worse before it got better.

He had to win this fight so he could get her out of here alive. Her and Rebel. He owed the kid. He wouldn’t leave him behind.

“You’re up.” Weasel thrust the controller at him. “I’m gonna grab a beer. Want one?”

“No thanks.”

Stoner would need all his wits about him if he was going to win this fight.

* * *

Karen watched from the crowd as the fighters entered the ring. She’d never been in this part of the compound before. It was a large room with a boxing-type ring in the center. She believed it was called an “octagon.” There were no seats for the spectators. Everyone crowded around the ring, trying to get a good view. From the looks of the place, it had been used many times in the past. How many men had fought in this ring and how many had lost their lives here?

Please don’t let Stoner or Rebel die today.

With the help of the buxom blonde whom Karen had seen cuddling up to Stoner that night in the videogame room, Stoner removed his shirt. He tossed it to the blonde. His ribs were tightly bound, his hands wrapped to protect his knuckles. His chest, back and stomach were riddled with healing wounds inflicted from Viper’s whip. Despite his injuries, Stoner had an incredible body, hard and muscular and well fit. Appreciative gasps and longing looks came from the other women. Karen wasn’t the only one who enjoyed the view. But the other women couldn’t know that Karen had been allowed to do more than look. She’d touched that incredible body. She’d kissed those masculine lips. She’d had his hands and lips all over her. And if she got her wish, she’d do it all again.

The blonde waved his shirt in the air and pranced off.

Stoner believed he would be fighting for his life. Was he right? Would Viper kill him if he lost? Did Viper have any use for him anymore? Since Viper had ordered Karen to teach both Stoner and Rebel how to micropropagate, Viper obviously planned to get rid of Stoner soon.

She had a bad feeling about this fight.

Rebel was slower to step into the ring. A pretty brunette helped him remove his shirt, then she stepped aside. Rebel was much leaner than Stoner, though he was an inch or two taller. Whereas Stoner had only the one dragon tattoo on his left bicep, Rebel had two tattoos. An eagle or some kind of falcon covered his right chest muscle, starting at the top of his shoulder and spanning down around his nipple, its wings spread in flight. On his left lower abdomen was a cheetah, its body elongated as it sprinted across his stomach. As she stared at Rebel’s tattoos, they made perfect sense to Karen. As an animal lover, he would find beauty in nature, in life. An eagle was free, its wings allowing it the ability to go anywhere. A cheetah was the fastest land animal, capable of chasing—or fleeing—from just about anything.

Freedom and speed. Those two things described the troubled young man perfectly. Both were things he craved. She hoped someday he found them.

Karen spotted Viper pushing his way through the throng. His pink gaze zeroed in on her as he came forward. He reached her side.

“Ready to see who’s going to claim you tonight, Ms. Williams?”

Karen glared up at him. He thought women were possessions. Thank God the man wasn’t interested in her that way. She wouldn’t want Stoner or Rebel to have to fight Viper for her. She didn’t like any man thinking he had to fight for her. She wasn’t a damn prize to win at the county fair. She was a human being. But she knew better than to get into an argument with Viper right now. So she would play along.

“Yes. Let’s see who the better man is.”

Viper’s eyes gleamed with approval. “I see you’re finally starting to take an interest in the activities around here. On Saturday we’re having a dog fight. A rival gang will be bringing their best Pitbull to fight my champion, Killer. You’ll have to watch that too. Highly entertaining.”

Being forced to watch animals fight to the death made Karen’s stomach churn. The cruelty of it made her want to hurl.

Viper wrapped his hand around her elbow and propelled her forward through the crowd, until they were right outside of the ring.

“Since this fight is over you, you get to be right up front where you will get the best view. Who are you betting on to win, Ms. Williams?”

Karen wasn’t sure how to answer that. “I like both of them, so I really have no preference who wins.” Which was partially true. Part of her wanted Stoner to win, the other part of her wanted Rebel to win.

Viper nodded. “Tell me, Ms. Williams, what should I do with the loser?”

Her heart sped up. “What do you mean?”

“How should I punish the loser? Should I string him up in the dungeon? Whip him? Beat him? Use him as bait for my fighting dogs?”

Karen’s stomach twisted at all the grisly suggestions. “I think having to suffer the humiliation of losing will be punishment enough for the loser, don’t you?”

Viper cocked a brow. The serpent on his head slithered at the movement. He contemplated her for a long moment. He chuckled.

“Spoken just like a woman. I’ll determine the punishment then.” He turned away from her and leapt up into the ring.

Her heart pounding, Karen glanced at Stoner, noticing the determination on his face. She jerked her gaze to Rebel. Rebel’s face was devoid of emotion, but she knew he’d gone into acting mode. The kid was nervous.

Viper addressed the crowd. “Fellow Cobras! We are all here tonight to witness the first fight we’ve had in months. I’m sure you’re all anxious to get this started. So, without further ado…” He turned and motioned to Stoner. “In the left corner we have Stoner, who joined the Cobras to assist in our marijuana production.” Viper spun toward Rebel. “And in the right corner, we have Rebel, our loyal vet and animal caretaker. May the better man win!”

He stepped aside just as the bell rang.

Ding, ding!

Her heart in her throat, Karen leaned up against the ropes to watch as Stoner and Rebel warily circled each other.

The crowd chanted, some shouting “Stoner, Stoner!” and others screaming “Rebel, Rebel!”

Karen remained silent, watching, and praying, and hoping neither man was hurt too badly.

For several minutes, they danced around each other, true MMA fighters, bouncing in and out, striking out with hands and feet, elbows and knees, some blows connecting with faces, arms, chests, stomachs, or legs, then leaping back, darting out of the way. Karen had to admit she was pretty impressed by Rebel’s agility. He struck as many times as he was hit, and he bounced back out of the way more often than not. The kid knew more about fighting than he’d let on. Had someone given him a quick lesson before the fight? Or had he just fooled them all into thinking he couldn’t fight? She began to doubt Stoner would be able to win this match with his injured ribs that prevented him from moving too quickly.

Viper had left the ring and was now standing beside Karen, watching the fight. “Hmm,” he mused, glancing down at her, then back into the ring. “Looks pretty even so far, doesn’t it? Who would have thought Rebel had that in him? Maybe the kid’s not a weakling after all.”

Rebel lunged at Stoner’s legs. Stoner barreled backwards, losing his footing. He hit the mat with Rebel on top of him. A grimace of pain flashed across Stoner’s face before the men grappled across the floor, each fighting for the upper hand. Punches, blows, strikes to the head and face…

Rebel struck Stoner in the ribs, once, twice, three times. Stoner grunted with each blow, his face scrunching in pain. Then Stoner flipped over, snagging Rebel’s arm and twisting it backwards at the elbow.

“Armbar!” Viper shouted in obvious delight.

Rebel yelped, then slammed his head backwards, hitting Stoner in the nose. Blood spurted out, running down Stoner’s face. Stoner cursed and released Rebel, reaching up to wipe blood off his face.

Both men crawled to their feet. They turned and circled each other warily again. Rebel favored his arm. It must hurt the way Stoner had wrenched it backwards. Karen hoped nothing was broken. Stoner, on the other hand, grimaced with each step. He was obviously in great pain. His ribs must be killing him.

“Stoner, Stoner!” the crowd chanted.

“Rebel, Rebel!” others shouted.

Viper grinned next to her. “This is getting good.”

Karen ignored him. She wanted it to stop before either man was hurt any more.

Ding, ding!

The bell announced the end of the first round.

The fighters went to their corners where the women wiped their faces and dribbled water into their mouths. The blonde dabbed at Stoner’s bloody nose, trying to stop the flow of blood. Stoner’s gaze landed on Karen’s across the ring. The look in his eyes said loud and clear,
I’m not giving up.

The bell dinged again. The second round started.

Rebel rushed at Stoner, swinging hard. His fist connected with the side of Stoner’s head. Stoner grunted, his head swinging to the side. Stoner staggered, but he didn’t fall. He shook his head. He let out a snarl and tackled Rebel. They went down in a flurry of limbs, arms and legs swinging, trying to connect with the opponent’s body in a painful fashion.

Viper cackled next to her, leaning into the ropes to get a better view of the combatants. Karen held her breath, unable to look away. The men wrestled across the ring again, each landing a few strikes and blocking blows at the same time. The floor was splattered with blood beneath them. Stoner’s nose? Or was Rebel now bleeding from somewhere too?

They rolled across the mat for another few minutes, neither inflicting much damage upon the other. Then the bell rang again.

They separated and went to their respective corners. Both men were breathing hard, exhausted, and in pain. Stoner was hurt much worse than Rebel. He had the disadvantage of broken ribs.

The women cleaned them up and dribbled water into their mouths.

“Final round!” Viper shouted next to her. “Make it good!”

Ding, ding!

Karen held her breath as the men circled each other for the final round. They bounced around for several seconds before Stoner attacked. He lunged at Rebel and took him down. The crowd went wild, screaming, “Stoner, Stoner!” while he and Rebel grappled across the mat. Being younger, and quicker, Rebel managed to get a hold of Stoner’s foot. He cranked Stoner’s ankle, pressing hard on his foot, until Stoner cried out in pain.

“Haha!” Viper cried in glee. “He’s got Stoner in a toe hold!”

“Tap out!” someone shouted.

Stoner grunted, then slammed his elbow backwards into Rebel’s throat. Rebel choked and fell back, releasing Stoner’s foot.

Stoner launched his body on Rebel’s, grabbing his arm and yanking it behind his back, forcing it upward toward his neck. Rebel squealed and thrashed, trying to break free.

“Tap out!” a man screamed from Karen’s left.