REBEL: #4.5 The Beat and The Pulse Page 3

  “Suspended?” I gasped. The thought crossed my mind that he was being paid to keep it quiet, too.

  Hunter leaned back in is posh leather chair and adjusted his tie. “Now, get the hell outta here, Croft, before I change my mind to termination.”

  Turning sharply on my heel, I pushed out of his office, letting the door slam behind me. The boys began to laugh, talking amongst one another. Ignoring them, I sat heavily at my desk and began rummaging through the drawers, pulling out my keys, badge, and phone. Assholes.

  Hunter would fire me? Fucking hell it made me mad. It also made me more determined than ever to prove them all wrong.

  We’d see about being the weak little girl. They’d choke on it when they find out I’d cracked the hardest nut in town.

  I’d wipe the floor with the lot of them.

  Chapter 6

  Rebel

  Charlotte didn’t turn up to The Underground last night.

  Nobody knew who she was and nobody remembered even seeing her. It seemed like a hard stretch considering how fucking beautiful she was, but maybe she was trying to keep a low profile. It was hard to say why she was there at all, but something deep inside me wondered if I hadn’t been a part of her equation.

  I had eyes and ears out, so if she turned up again, someone would let me know. Didn’t mean I had stopped thinking about her…or palming my cock while doing it.

  Opening the posh glass doors to the newest gym in the neighborhood, Pulse Fitness, I stood inside the door, scanning the inside for the mate I was meeting here. This was his regular and it was a hundred steps up from where I was used to training out in the suburbs.

  Running my gaze over the equipment, I could smell the stink of cash. Everything was the best of the best, but I’d expect nothing less from an ex-Underground fighter. Those guys knew quality and had the coin to spend on it.

  Pulse Fitness was the gym that the guy from The Underground had opened. In the cage, he’d called himself Maverick, but out here, he was Ash Fuller. He’d never cared who knew his real name and that gave him huge balls in my book. The guy was kinda my hero.

  Glancing around the gym, I could see I had a lot to live up to. The place was un-fucking-believable. He had a goal and a purpose—I was still trying to work mine out. First, I had to get my hands on the cash, and then I could think about what I wanted to do with it.

  Spotting my mate Ryan over on the mats, I made my way toward him, my hands shoved firmly in the pockets of my hoodie. I’d known the guy for a long time, him and his mate Cole. We’d butted heads on the wrong side of the tracks a few times, and now they were trying out for the Australian Ultimate Fighting Championships, otherwise known as the AUFC. Their coach was none other than Ash fucking Fuller. Assholes.

  “Kane,” Ryan called out as he saw my approach.

  I didn’t mind Ryan using my real name out here in the real world. I didn’t really want to go around advertising that I was Rebel. At The Underground, fuck yes, but not out here where I could easily become a target. Kane Sturgess was just another deadbeat unemployed scum sucker…nothing special about him.

  Slapping my hand into Ryan’s I shook, thumping him on the back. “Sup?”

  “You finally made it,” he replied, letting me go.

  “You know how things are.”

  “How are things down under? Raking it in?”

  Ryan knew I fought at The Underground, and he was smart enough not to let on that he knew. He had brighter, more regimented aspirations than I did, so he was never interested in slumming it, even if the money was good. Anyway, if the AUFC found out, he’d be kicked before he even got to fight a qualifier.

  “Great,” I replied with a grin. “Bloody brilliant.”

  “I see you’ve still got all your brain cells, so that’s a bonus right there.”

  “Asshole,” I said with a laugh. “Where’s Cole?”

  “He’s out today, so it’s just me. You wanna stick around for a session?”

  “Sure.” Didn’t see anything wrong with hanging out with a mate in a state of the art gym. No problems at all.

  I unzipped my hoodie and tossed it on the floor against the mirrored wall before kicking off my shoes and tossing my T-shirt onto the pile. Ryan heaved up a medicine ball, ready for some warm ups.

  “You should come and train here,” he said, assuming the position. We’d toss the thing back and forth a few rounds before moving onto other stretches.

  “Here? I don’t think they’d let me.”

  “Why not? Coach fought at The Underground.”

  I shook my head. “And now he’s affiliated with the AUFC and you guys. Don’t think it’d fly if he knew.”

  I caught the ball and wondered if I were a little more straight-laced like Ryan, maybe Charlotte wouldn’t have run away like she did.

  “Just keep your mouth shut. If no one knows, then no harm, no foul.”

  My lip curled. Chicks loved the bad boy, but they never took them home for more than a night. Did I want more than a night? Training in this place felt like trying to date a classy woman. You didn’t just mess around with it.

  The medicine ball slipped through my fingers and landed between my feet. Fuck. I picked it up and tossed it back to Ryan.

  “What’s up with you?” he asked, catching the ball. “You’re off with the fairies, mate.”

  “It’s nothin’.” I didn’t want to tell Ryan, of all dudes, what my problem was.

  “C’mon, it’s a chick, right?” I threw the ball back a little too hard, and he caught it with a laugh. “It’s a chick. Never thought I’d see you wound up over some bird.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Neither did I.”

  “Who is she?”

  “Charlotte.” Just saying her name had my dick stirring.

  “Who’s Charlotte?”

  “Dunno.”

  “You don’t know?” he scoffed. “How does that work?”

  “She was at The Underground.”

  “She saw you fight?” he asked, straightening up. “For real?”

  “She was right there.” I held up my hand, pointing to the floor right in front of me. “Then she was gone.”

  Ryan grimaced. “In over her head?”

  I shrugged, it was the same conversation I’d had with the chick from the bar, Lori. “Maybe.”

  “You’ve got it bad,” he said, cracking a smile. “You never drop the ball. And for a chick you don’t even know, for fuck’s sake.”

  I grunted, tossing the medicine ball. He caught it easily but that was the point. I wasn’t into hurting another dude and ruining his chances at pro just because he said something I didn’t like. That would make me a dick.

  “I want out,” I said. “The Championship is in a few weeks, and I’ve got a good shot at being in it. If she doesn’t come back before then…”

  “What do you mean? I thought you were making good money there.”

  “I never wanted to stay there, mate,” I said. “I just wanted to make some money to start over someplace else. That Championship is worth a couple of mill.”

  Ryan let out a slow whistle. “Fucking hell.”

  “It’s already becoming more trouble than it’s worth.” The Underground was always rough and full of bad news, but there was tension between the ringleaders and that always meant blood, guts, and fighting over money. Any one of those things was trouble, but all at once and with the amount of cash that place turned over? The whole operation was teetering on the edge of an epic turf war if someone didn’t step up soon.

  “What do you mean?” Ryan narrowed his eyes. He knew the stakes as well as I did considering we grew up in similar circumstances. Dickhead kids on the wrong side of the law.

  “The head ref, Max, is having trouble with one of the other guys,” I said. “Looks like it could blow out.”

  Ryan shook his head. “Keep as far away from that as you can, Kane.”

  “I know. Last thing I need is to get on the cops’ radar.” With my record, there’d b
e no asking questions. They’d slap a number on me and chuck my ass inside. Guilty as charged.

  “There are better things, you know.”

  I stilled, holding the ball. “Like what?”

  “Try out for pro, mate. You’re more than good enough.”

  I snorted. Try out for the big leagues? In what universe would I be able to find a sponsor who’d stoop to throwing their lot in with a criminal? Not this one.

  “Ash could help you out. He knows a lot of guys.”

  My lip curled into a sneer. “I’ll fight my own fuckin’ battles.”

  Ryan shrugged, turning away from me. “Suit yourself, bro.”

  The straight and narrow had never suited me, at least where fighting was concerned. I was all about the freestyle and taking it to pro? There was discipline, and then there were rules. I lived in the ‘rules were made to be broken’ camp. Disqualification and a bad rep was what awaited me in the AUFC.

  I just had to stick it out at The Underground until the Championship and fingers crossed I would end up with the title and the girl.

  Charlotte had to come back. If she’d felt one iota of what I did when we were in that hall, then I knew she would. It was just a matter of time.

  I just had to wait it out.

  Chapter 7

  Charlotte

  A pig in a den of wolves.

  The cops equaled pigs insult was one that I’d hated from day one. When a drunken perp, who’d become violent, begins to oink at you, it’s hard not to become the poster child for police brutality.

  Despite the very crystal clear warning that Hunter had given me, I found myself back at The Underground, more determined than ever to prove all those imbeciles wrong. Sires, Howard, Frommer, Hunter…they’d all be fuming that they weren’t the ones cracking this nut.

  Despite the trouble I was risking, my gaze ran over the crowd, looking for the one man I probably shouldn’t be getting any closer to. Not physically, anyway.

  Rebel was nowhere in sight, but I saw his name scrawled on the board as being scheduled to fight, so he had to be around here someplace. At the thought of him being in the same building as I was, I felt a shiver run down my spine and right into my lady parts. I’d had a good go at easing the tension last night and this morning, but nothing seemed to scratch that itch.

  Deciding a drink was in order, I threaded my way through the crowd and headed to the bar. Just like the other night, the place was packed and pumping. It didn’t seem to matter which day of the week it was, every day was a big one when they had a stream of people waiting to fight and another wanting to watch it.

  Glancing up at the board as I passed, I realized they had a women’s tournament as well. Women fought here? Holy shit. They had to be some tough chicks to want to do this. I’d been in more than my fair share of scraps but having one in that cage? Hell to the no.

  I leaned against the bar and waited my turn, using the time to survey the crowd and the staff. The bar itself was fully stocked with everything from the finest spirits to the crappiest lolly drinks. UDL’s and Vodka Cruisers, that kind of thing—‘chick’ drinks. Beer and cider was on tap, and they were pumping them out hard. The liquor itself would make a pretty chunk of change at the end of the night, but it definitely paled in comparison to what the bookmakers brought in. The money currently being flung around there was in wads.

  “What can I get ya?”

  I turned as I heard the woman bartender try to get my attention. She was a slim, alternative looking girl with black hair and black fingernails. “Scotch,” I yelled over the noise.

  The woman smiled at me. “You wouldn't be Charlotte by any chance?”

  I blinked hard.

  She smiled again. “Don’t look so scared,” she said, her voice friendly. “Rebel’s looking for you. Asked me to keep an eye out.”

  Thinking back to the little interlude with the fighter, I said. “Oh, I’m sure he did.”

  “You know,” the bartender went on, “I’ve been around this shithole for a long time, and one thing I know is that fighters don’t usually stick. You brush ‘em off and they find something else to entertain themselves with.”

  “And what?” I scoffed. “Rebel went and found himself a new plaything?”

  She shook her head, laughing like I’d just told her the best joke she’d ever heard. Pulling down a bottle of scotch, she picked up a glass and began filling it. She stopped at three fingers and tossed a couple of cubes of ice in like it was an afterthought. Placing it in front of me, she said. “On the house. You’re gunna need it.”

  I narrowed my eyes, not knowing if I should be offended or calling her my best friend.

  “I’m Lori,” she said.

  “I’d tell you who I am but you already seem to know,” I said with a sigh. “But please, call me Charlie. Charlotte is so…” I shrugged.

  “Girly?”

  My hard cop exterior melted some, and I laughed. “Something like that.”

  “Well, get that in ya because my money’s on Rebel sniffing you out in the next ten minutes. He’s been asking questions.”

  “Questions?” I squeaked.

  “You’re the mystery woman who’s got the king of the cage all twisted around her little finger. He’s sent his lackeys to work. Odds are, he already knows you’re here.”

  Oh shit, I was trying to keep a low profile, not become the talk of The Underground. If this got back to the wrong people, I was in big trouble. Suspended without pay or worse, fired.

  Lori leaned over the bar. “Word of advice, Charlie. That guy’s smart. He ain’t some dead shit fighter that’s been knocked in the head one too many times. Don’t give him an inch. Make him work for it.”

  Grabbing the drink in front of me, I pressed it against my lips and took a swig. The liquor burned a trail right down my throat and into my stomach, doing nothing but fuel the flames that were already burning. Damn it. I was here to further my career, not hop into bed with a fighter…a hot, buff fighter…

  I shook my head, and Lori laughed.

  “Good luck with that,” she said. “See you round, huh?”

  “Maybe,” I replied before finishing off the rest of the scotch. “We’ll see what happens in the next ten minutes.”

  She grinned like she knew a secret I still hadn’t been let in on and moved away to serve another customer.

  Stepping away from the bar, I felt the buzz of the alcohol as it began to ping through my bloodstream, making me slightly bolder. The goal was to immerse myself in the lifestyle and get close to the players, so I could piece the puzzle together. Find the cracks so I could exploit them. Classic undercover cop techniques if I did say so myself…now with the added bonus of being officially unsanctioned.

  Knowing that it was only a matter of time before Rebel found me himself, I did everything I could to stop myself from looking. He was a massive anomaly, meaning that he wasn’t a part of the equation at all. What would I do when he was finally standing in front of me for the second time? I wasn’t entirely sure, but my traitorous lady bits seemed excited by the prospect.

  Stopping in front of the bookies, a wicked thought crossed my mind. If I wanted to be a part of this place and make it look convincing… I approached the nearest, who was this balding older man wearing a bum bag around his waist. A man purse for all his money. He held a notepad and pen in his hand, and his eyes lit up when he saw me near.

  “Want to place a bet, young lady?” he asked, flashing me a smile. I could see the dollar signs flashing in his eyes, but he wasn’t going to make an easy mark out of me. People usually thought they could get one over me because I was somewhat pretty and had blonde hair, but when they found out what I did, they usually turned tail and ran. Not this time.

  “One hundred down on Rebel,” I said, handing over two fifties.

  “Only a hundred?” a deep voice rumbled in my ear.

  My entire body flared to life as I became aware of Rebel's presence behind me. Turning, I smacked into his chest and
his hands shot up and grasped my waist. Staring right into his eyes, I swallowed hard. He was touching me through my clothes and I could feel the heat of his skin. Hot, hard, skilled… Rebel was a very physical creature, and from the satisfied smile on his face, he knew it too.

  “I only brought a hundred,” I said, my words running together.

  He smiled wider, his eyes lighting up. “Then a hundred it is.”

  We stood there in a sea of people, staring at each other like nothing else existed. I was totally dazzled by the man, but I wasn’t sure what his game was. I hadn’t thought of myself as hot property before, not where the opposite sex was involved. I’d had my fair share of boyfriends, but they usually cut out pretty quick. Something to do with them being dickheads and me being tougher than they were. In my experience, men didn’t like being in relationships with women in positions of authority.

  Finally, Rebel said, “I wasn’t sure you were real.”

  “Why’d you think that?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. His rich, chocolate eyes sparkled with mischief. He was cocky, alright. I’d have to keep an eye on this one.

  “You left me hanging.”

  “I’m sure you found something to handle that.” I scowled, surprised at the knot of jealousy that was twisting in my stomach.

  “Yeah,” he said, edging closer. “My right hand.”

  I should’ve slapped him for his brazen comment, or I should’ve told him to go jump, but I found my inner woman was actually pleased he’d jacked off while thinking about me—a woman he’d only spoken to once. Oh, and dry humped against a wall.

  He smiled, knowing that he had me interested. Damn it.

  “You wanna place that bet, lady?”

  I blinked hard as I was unceremoniously torn from Rebel’s thrall back into the din of The Underground. Shoving the fifties I still clutched in a trembling hand at the bookie, I nodded. “It’s on.”