Unleashed: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance Part 38

Stocky is backing up quick, and Pierce is dancing toward him. He stops suddenly, and puts out his hands, beckons, taunts.

It seems to have an effect. The body language of Stocky changes, becomes angry, and he stomps toward Pierce, fists up, ready to block a blow.

Pierce feints a step to his left, and throws Stocky's weight off-center. He then kicks out Stocky's unbalanced foot. Stocky goes down hard onto his back.

Pierce is on him in an instant, rolling around, and I can't even make out what's happening. But before long he's got Stocky's head in the nook of his knee, and he's squeezing.

"Holy s.h.i.+t," Rose whispers. "That was fast."

Stocky is on the ground, his face is red as a beetroot, and he's in a chokehold. Pierce, still putting on a show, points at the crowd, and they erupt.

"Jesus," I say, looking at Chance and Ca.s.sie. She's got her face bunched up, and I agree with her. Watching Stocky being choked like that is so immediate and visceral. It's... a little sickening.

"Pierce has him in what's called a submission hold," I overhear Chance tell her. She doesn't reply.

Stocky's losing strength in his body now. He's trying uselessly to grab Pierce behind him, but can't get any good hold. Pierce twists his leg again, rolling Stocky's body over so that he's face down, neck still being held in between Pierce's calf and thigh.

"He's going to kill him," I whisper in disbelief. "What the h.e.l.l? Don't they stop the fight?"

But, to my surprise, Stocky twists his body again, and lays a thunderous punch against Pierce's thigh. The leg instantly goes dead, and Stocky rolls out, wincing, holding onto his throat and rubbing it.

Pierce gets to his feet, tests his leg, and I can almost feel the numbness he must be feeling, the pins and needles from the heavy blow.

He just grins, and beckons Stocky again.

The noise has all but died. There's an eerie silence, as if suddenly the audience no longer cares for Pierce's taunting. Or maybe they're shocked by the purple bruise that's already forming on Stocky's neck.

Stocky is p.i.s.sed, though. That much is for sure. He's losing his composure, but still Pierce keeps taunting him.

"Why does he do that?" I say. "Isn't there sportsmans.h.i.+p?"

"It's a strategy," Chance informs me. "Getting into his head, getting him uneven mentally."

"Isn't that cheap?"

He shrugs. "Anything to win."

Stocky lunges, but Pierce dodges him easily. He captures Stocky's arm, twists it behind his back, and then kicks out his legs again, sending him face-first to the floor. The sound is a deep, loud, single thump, and I'm reminded of the time I once dropped a bowling ball in the lane.

Pierce rolls over the body, hooks Stocky's neck with his leg again, and this time grabs his own foot with his hand, and pulls.

Stocky's body flails for a second, then I see the shoulders drop. He's trying to get out from under it, but gets stuck on Pierce's hip bone.

It's only a few seconds before Stocky's body goes limp.

"That's the Pace choke," I overhear Chance say to Ca.s.sie. "Lights-out in seconds. No blood to the brain."

The fight is over. Pierce gets up, and somebody rushes to Stocky. I a.s.sume he's a doctor.

The crowd bursts into manic cheering and applause, and Pierce trots about the cage, arms up, grinning.

He's barely even broken a sweat.

Chapter Eight.

"Did you see how fast he was?" Rose asks me. "G.o.d, he's good."

"I saw it," I say as we leave the warehouse. The entire audience is filtering out at once, and it's slow progress. The hubbub of excited chatter is thunderous. I can barely hear myself speak.

Everybody's talking about how fast Pierce won. They're saying that if this was a scored match, Stocky would have only received points for getting out of the first hold with that single blow onto his thigh.

I have to admit to myself that Pierce was impressive. Deceptively light on his feet despite all that muscle... it was graceful. Incredibly athletic.

"What are we going to do now?" I ask Rose.

"Well," she says, grinning at me. "Now we see if we can talk to Pierce."

"Really?" I ask.

"Yeah. I'm going to tell him your dad is dating his mom."

"d.a.m.n Rose, why?"

"So we get a chance to meet him."

"Rose, I don't want to do this. You can't tell him that."

"Why not? You're free to leave."

I frown. "G.o.d, you can be such a b.i.t.c.h sometimes."

"Hey, I want to meet him."

"And what about Jason?"

"Oh, he's not the jealous type."

"I'm not?" Jason says, appearing from behind us. He was supposed to be using one of the porta-potties, but apparently the line was too long.

"It was going to be a hazmat zone in there once it got to my turn," he explains, grinning.

"Gross."

"Anyway," Rose says, "Now you'll get a chance to meet him. See what all that pointing was about."

"I don't really care," I say. "To be honest, I might just head off early."

"No!" she says, gripping onto my arm. "No, stay. Come on!"

"Rose..."

"They say Pierce's nights out are legendary."

"He drinks?"

She snorts. "What do you mean he drinks?"

"Well, aren't athletes supposed to take care of their bodies?"

"Aren't you adorable," Rose says, laughing. "Anyway, if we can't meet Pierce, Jason and I are going to go out anyway. Want to join us?"

"Where are you going?"

"Oh, probably a club or two."

I pause. "I, uh, I've never been to a-"

"A club?"

"Well, no, back home you gotta be twenty-one."

"You never used a fake ID?"

"No!"

She waves her hand. "Don't worry about it, there's nothing to it. Have a drink, feel the music, do what you want. Dance, sit, whatever. You only have to be eighteen here, anyway."

"I don't know, Rose," I say. I'm starting to feel nervous now. I can't dance! I'm not dressed for it at all.

"Oh, come on, Pen-" Rose's eyes widen, and she looks past my shoulder. I turn around, and see Pierce Fletcher walking out of the train depot. He's wearing a maroon dress s.h.i.+rt tucked into black slacks, and it all fits his body almost too perfectly.

"Pierce!" she screams, waving her hands. He's already got a crowd of people around him. Everybody's trying to get a selfie with him. Mobile phone cameras are going off left and right.

If I didn't know better, I'd think we were at some red carpet event in Hollywood.

But Pierce isn't paying attention to any of it. His eyes have found me, and he's making a beeline straight toward us. Each of his steps is a long confident stride. He's got a sway to him.

If I didn't know better, I'd swear he was filming a commercial. The way each camera light flashes in seeming slow motion... it's almost cinematic.

"Great fight, Pierce," Rose says as he comes toward us. He doesn't even acknowledge her. His eyes stay on me.

"You kicked a.r.s.e tonight, mate," Jason says. Pierce ignores him, too.

He closes the distance between us. I almost want to laugh. This whole scene has been so surreal. I feel like I'm in the commercial now.

His cologne is subtle, takes a moment to reach my senses. On his face he's wearing an amused smirk, as if he's finding something funny.

"Hey, beautiful," he says. Apparently he just can't help the grin that parts his lips. He's got a mix between an American and Australian accent. It's weird, like nothing I've ever heard before.

This time I really do laugh. "Jesus," I whisper, tucking hair behind my ears. "That's the best you could do?" I don't even know why I say it. What was I expecting him to do?

"You're joining me tonight," he says. "You and your friends."

Rose grips my arm, and I can almost hear her mentally pressuring me to accept.

"I, uh-"

"Hey, it's the best club in town."

"Juice?" Rose asks.

Pierce's eyes don't leave mine. "Yeah. We'll get our own section." His face grows serious. It's all hard lines and angles. He's a looker, but it's better when he smiles. "Shall we go?"

I bunch my brow together. "You can't be for real."

Rose cuts in excitedly. "You know your parents are dating, right?"

Pierce levels a curious look at me. "Is that right? So you're Penelope?"

"Yeah," I say.

He only smiles. He just keeps looking at me, as if he's measuring me, somehow, adding up everything he sees of me and labeling me, categorizing me, figuring me out.

I feel put on the spot; I feel hot, and I feel flushed.

I'm at a loss for words. Whereas in the cage he was all aggression and s...o...b..ating, somehow now he's no longer just a brute with a penchant for violence and lifting weights. His personality is intense. I can't place it, can't describe it.

I feel off-balance. I feel like I'm in the cage with him, and that I've got to hold my own.

"Well, nice fight," I say. "Sans the showing off."

Somehow a it's subtle, but I don't miss it a he uses his body language to guide me into walking with him. An arm out, a gentle gesture, and we're walking down the street. Someone calls out his name, but he ignores them. Rose and Jason fall into step behind us. She's positively giddy.

"First fight, Penelope?"

"Yeah."

"Like it?"

I shake my head. "Not really."