Invincible (A Bad Boy MMA Romantic Suspense Novel)(8)

By: London Casey


I blinked fast and I realized I was in the dark. I was in bed, my left hand dangerously close to my inner thigh.

Was I really just about to…?

My phone kept ringing and vibrating.

“Okay, okay,” I grumbled.

Of course, it was Luke calling.

I grabbed the phone, yawning, and answered it.

“Luke… it’s the mid-”

“Don’t you even leave the fucking room, Rose! You understand me?”

“What are you talking about? I’m in bed.”

“Get under the bed. In the closet. Something. You understand?”

“No, I don’t! I’m tired of this Luke!”

The phone went silent for a few seconds. I could hear my brother breathing. He was angry. Very angry. He wanted to hurt me, I could sense it through the phone. Yet at the same time he protected me because I was something of a prize to him.

“Rose, listen to me carefully. You hide in that fucking room until I tell you not to.”

“Give me one good reason,” I said, tired and cocky.

Luke did just that…

“Because they’re coming to kill you, Rose. Tonight.”





4.



(Wes)



I drank myself drunk for days after the fight. Each time I shut my eyes or tried to sleep, all I could see was Shane. Except Shane was Johnny, or Johnny was Shane. It was Shane’s face but the giant eagle tattoo from Johnny on his body. Shane on the ground, begging for his life. Reaching back into his own head, pulling out his brains, showing them to me. Then he’d ask me why, over and over until I woke up.

I put a bucket next to my bed because each time I woke up, I puked my guts out. I wasn’t sure if it was from the booze or the dream of brains.

Thinking about it made my fingers tingle.

I had put one mission on my life and that was to find the guy who killed Shane and get revenge. All I knew - and all Aton told me - was that the fighter was called the assassin. He didn’t fight under a name, simply called the assassin. He always wore a black mask when he fought. Rumor had it that the fight - the fucking murder - with Shane had been his last one.

I licked my lips and reached for the bottle.

It was empty.

Another bottle gone.

I dropped it to the floor and swung my feet off the edge of the bed. I ran my hands through my hair and looked around the room. I was hungry. I was horny. I wanted to fight something, someone.

Falling to the floor, I dug under the bed and found another bottle. I had walked into the liquor store a few days ago and put down more than enough money to buy all I needed to drink myself to death. Only I kept doing it wrong. I’d get drunk and pass out. I’d never push myself over that edge.

“Fucking pussy,” I whispered.

I twisted the top off the bottle and took a swig. The sudden taste of chocolate made my stomach turn. I swallowed and then it all came back up. My face was in a trashcan, the smell of rotten vomit making me throw up even more. Through my hazy eyes I saw the bottle was goddamn chocolate vodka. I had no idea how the fuck that happened.

I heard the door to my apartment open.

Most people would get freaked out, right?

I didn’t care.

My bedroom door then opened and two men stood there, holding guns.

They were Aton’s guys.

I put my hands up, my fingers like guns, like I used to do with Shane when we were kids.

“Pow! Pow!” I said.

“Jesus Christ,” one of the guys said. “It stinks in here.”

I saw Aton push through and his nose wrinkled at the odor. “Goddamn, Wes. I figured it would stink in here, but I thought it was going to be your body decomposing. Thought you were dead.”

“I am dead,” I said.

“No, you’re not. And we need to talk.” Aton waved his hand in front of his nose. “Get him in a cold shower. I’ll go make some coffee. Back to business, right now.”

I grabbed at the bed and tried to stand up. I kicked the bucket of vomit over. One of the guys, standing about seven feet tall, grabbed his stomach and started to dry heave.

“Toughen up,” Aton said. “Get him cleaned up.”

Next thing I knew the two guys were grabbing me by the arms. They dragged me out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. They tossed me into the shower and turned on the water. One of them turned on the shower and the ice cold water hit me. My body stiffened and I screamed for a second. I propped myself up on my hands and knees and threw up again. So I just stayed there, letting the water hit me.

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