Temper Him by Caitlyn Dare

Chapter Twenty-Six

Conner

"This is a fucking joke," I spit, falling down into one of the few chairs that's still in one piece in Joker’s.

Dad, Ace, Cole and a couple of James' men gather around us.

"They can't just fucking disappear."

I drop my head into my hands, my confidence that we'd catch up with them vanishing faster than I can cope with.

We've spent hours driving around the Heights, trying to find where he took her, but there was no sign of that motherfucker, his car, or my girl.

I turned his trailer upside down trying to find clues, but there was fucking nothing.

"This is your fault," I spit at our dad. "If you hadn’t made me wait to get her, if you hadn’t come up with this fucking stupid plan, she would have been home by now. If anything fucking happens to her… this is on your head." I push to stand so I'm staring down at him.

"Conner," he says calmly, like I didn't just spit all over his face in my rage. "We will find her. I have men all over the Heights. Any kind of movement and we'll unearth the cunt."

"Not good enough. I need her now. I need to know he's not hurting her."

"I know, Conner. We're doing the best we can."

"Not. Fucking. Good. Enough. You promised me this would be over tonight, but as far as I can see it's just got a whole lot fucking worse." I lift my hands to my head and thread my fingers through my hair, pulling until it hurts.

I need to hurt. I need to feel the pain. The distraction.

"Fuck," I bark, pulling my cell from my pocket and shooting Daz a message.

My fists clench with my need to throw them into some unsuspecting cunt’s face.

"Is that really the best way to deal with this?" Cole asks, coming to stand beside me just in time to see who I messaged.

"I don't know, bro. You fucking tell me,” I snarl. “What is the right thing to do when your girl’s been fucking kidnapped by a psychopath and you have no idea where she is?”

"Uh..." he hesitates.

"Exactly. It's either this, or he,” I pin our father with a look, “tells us fucking everything. Because this," I throw my hands out to my sides, indicating the officers who are clearly under James' watch, “isn't fucking normal." We grew up in the Heights, we know all about corrupt cops. They're on every street corner selling the drugs they've seized to kids who don't know any better. But this right now is fucked up.

I step up to Dad once more. "Who exactly is James Jagger, huh? Because he sure as shit isn't the businessman who spends all his time in Silicon Valley like we were led to believe, is he?"

"I spend a lot of time in Silicon Valley," he argues.

"Doing what, James? What do you do that means you have the police in your back pocket? That you have men patrolling the Heights right now looking for a girl? What secrets does Warren know? What does he have on you?"

He swallows, his lips parting, but what he decides to say is nothing but a disappointment and nearly has my fist flying toward his face.

"I will explain everything I can when this is all over."

"Yeah, you keep saying that, but this... this shit isn't over. Whatever this is is ruining my fucking life right now, the life of the girl I love. Why can't you just be honest with us? Who are you?"

"Drop it, kid," one of Dad's guys says, placing his hand on my shoulder.

"Fuck you," I snap, spinning out of his hold and marching to the other side of the bar where Shelbie and her dad are quietly trying to put the place back together.

"Leave it," I say, loud enough for Dad to hear. "He's gonna pay for all of it. He fucking owes me."

Just before I storm through the doors of the bar, my cell vibrates. I pull it out, desperate to find an address staring back at me so I can feel the pain I need right now.

"Thank fuck," I hiss.

Daz: I've got the perfect guy for you.

I'm in the car with the engine running before Ace and Cole get to me.

"Conner, don't do this," Cole shouts through the window.

"You can either stand there bitching and listening to his empty promises, or you can come with me. The choice is yours, but I'm leaving right now."

I give them two seconds to make a decision, but they hesitate for too long so I slam my foot down on the accelerator and wheelspin out of Joker’s parking lot.

Fuck them. Fuck this.

Fuck. It. All.

It only takes me ten minutes to get to the location for tonight's fight. It's late, but that doesn't mean there aren't cars everywhere when I turn up to the old industrial estate full of dilapidated buildings.

I'm out of my car almost before I have the engine off and jogging toward the entrance.

"Jagger, it's good to see you tonight," someone I don't recognize says, patting me on the shoulder as he lets me inside.

The place is packed, the crowd’s cheers filling the vast space along with the heavy scent of both weed and nicotine.

"Conner, my man," Daz says as I walk up to him. "Once this sorry son of a bitch is put out of his misery," he says, nodding to the ring where there's a guy who's barely standing, "then you're up. You're ready for a fight, right?"

His question gets my blood pumping. Warren's smug fucking face from earlier when he possessively wrapped his arm around my girl fills my mind, and my fists curl.

"I want fucking blood."

"That's the attitude."

It only takes a few more seconds for the guy to go down and a roar to rip through the crowd as the winner celebrates his success.

"You're on, kid," Daz encourages. "I'll get your opponent."

Ripping my shirt off, I drop it on a chair beside one of the security guards along with my cell and car keys.

Cracking my knuckles and flexing my neck, I step into the ring.

A few people shout my name, but I ignore every single one. I don't need them or their encouragement. The adrenaline, the fear, the devastation that's flowing through my veins is enough.

There's a momentary silence that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Looking up, I see everyone staring at something—or someone—over my shoulder.

Sucking in a breath, I spin around and face the man Daz thought would be a good match for me tonight, and a trickle of anticipation races down my spine. He's fucking massive.

I swallow down my nerves and stare him dead in the eyes. He might be bigger than me, but I'm faster. I'd put money on it.

I can take this motherfucker.

If only winning would get my girl back.

The guy wastes no time; the second he's past the crowd he's on me. His fist connects with my jaw and my entire head snaps to the side.

I was not ready for that.

A roar rips up my throat as I retaliate.

The fight is brutal. For every hit I get, he manages to land two.

My face burns as blood trickles over my skin, dripping off my jaw. My ribs are in agony—I'm sure the fucker's broken at least one—but I refuse to show him that he might be winning.

I fucking need this.

I need the burn.

The pain.

I need the fucking distraction.

While we're throwing punches I'm not thinking about that asshole. About where he's dragged my girl and what he's doing to her. I forget the pain, the heartache, and focus on this one task at hand.

This guy might be bigger than me, but I won't bow down. I'd rather he kill me than admit defeat.

I force myself to continue through the pain and manage to land a few more punches, making the beast of a guy stumble into the crowd, but instead of weakening him, it seems to only fire him up.

When he comes at me, it's the last time, because the second his knuckles connect with my temple, everything goes black.

* * *

"You're a stupid motherfucker, do you know that?" a familiar voice barks.

I have no idea where I am, what happened, or why I'm being shouted at. All I know is that I want to go back into the darkness where nothing and no one existed.

Silence follows the voice, and I start to drift back off when a thought slams into me.

Kennedy.

I sit up so fast that my entire body screams in pain.

"Fuuuuck," I cry, my arm wrapping around my ribs as I slowly lower myself back down to what I now realize is a comfortable bed.

"Serves you right for being so fucking selfish," the same voice says, but this time, I recognize it.

"Fuck off, Cole."

"Fuck off? Are you fucking serious right now?"

"No. Leave me alone."

"I don't fucking think so."

"Have you found her?" I rip my eyes open to find what I expected. I'm in my own bed, and the sun is blazing through the open curtains.

My eyes find Cole, and I get my answer before he even opens his mouth.

"Fuck," I breathe. "Do we even know where she is yet?"

He shakes his head. "James is still working on it. But you getting yourself fucked up did not help things."

"It wasn't meant to," I mutter.

"Yeah well, when we find that cunt we need you in full fighting form. Assuming you want to be the one who takes him down."

"You fucking know I do." I roll to my side and suck in a breath, ready to attempt to get up.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"I need to see James. I need some motherfucking answers." I cry out in pain once again, reaching out to steady myself on the nightstand. My knuckles are a fucking mess, and almost my entire arm is covered in blood.

"Who was that guy?"

"No idea, but he was out for you. If we didn't get there when we did I've got a feeling he wouldn't have stopped after you passed out."

"Brilliant," I mutter, putting my focus back to standing but once again failing miserably.

"For fuck's sake. Get back in bed and I'll get James to come to you. You look fucking pathetic right now."

"Thanks for the sympathy."

"You get none. You did this to yourself. You're a selfish cunt. What if she needs you? You can’t even fucking walk."

"Would help if we knew where she was, eh?"

He mutters something as he walks out of my bedroom, promising to bring Dad back with him.