Brutal Boxer by Naomi Porter
10
Aspen
Storm had directed me to a chair along the wall on his right, essentially putting the exit out of my reach. A wailing, screaming lamb being led to the slaughter mirrored how I felt: utterly helpless.
Ten intimidating bikers filled the room, choking me in an obscene amount of testosterone. I heard Clarice Starling whispering, a lamb to the slaughter in her haunted voice. I never liked scary movies, but Zach had wanted to watch The Silence of the Lambs one night when my dad had to work late. He’d cuddled me the whole time, promising to always protect me.
I shook the memory away, wholly unnerved to have the past roar back in such a terrifying way.
Storm was at the head of the long wooden table with a mallet in his hand. Another guy, Grizzly, I heard someone call him, was busy on a laptop in the corner. The rest of the men stared as if seeing a ghost. All but one, directly across from me. It was incredibly uncomfortable… bone-chilling.
I didn’t dare steal a glimpse of Zach. When he’d entered with his mangled face and a stiff gait, I sensed he hadn’t done well at his event. Or perhaps his appearance meant he had done well. Who knew? Not me.
Storm cleared his throat after a quiet discussion with a man who appeared older than the rest. The mallet was raised and slammed down on the table.
I jolted in my seat, my heart racing as my fight-or-flight response kicked into gear. No chance I could flee this room. Or could I? It wasn’t like me to give up so easily. Scared or not, maybe I could find a way. Or perhaps all I could do was fight.
“I call this meeting to order. Time is not on our side with this new threat coming for us. We need to act swiftly and thoroughly to protect our club and each other. I’ve called my dad and the Fallen Soldiers to assist.”
Fallen Soldiers? What in the hell was Storm talking about? And he called his dad? I sure hoped his father was Darth Vader because it would take The Force to stop Casso Campbell, not some retired old man.
The men grunted their replies, eyes on the president.
Did Storm not know who he was up against? The power and reach Casso had?
I raised my hand, swallowing down the fear threatening my fight. Every pair of eyes shot my way. My words lodged in my throat, too petrified to speak. I second-guessed why the hell I raised my hand.
“What?” Storm hissed as if I’d broken protocol. Maybe I had.
I leaned forward in my chair, using Hero as a shield to block Zach’s view of me. “I don’t mean to interrupt. While I agree time isn’t on your side, there’s only one solution for all of this.”
“What’s that?” Storm snarled.
“Help me leave the country,” I blurted, before losing my courage. “Right now. I don’t need much, just a fake ID and passport. I don’t even need money.” Although some cash would’ve been greatly appreciated. Regardless, I’d figure it out. Prepared to do anything needed so I’d never be controlled by a man again.
“I already—”
I raised my hand. “I know what you told me.” I inhaled a deep breath, standing up. Keeping my gaze on Storm, I slowly moved behind the row of men, seeking my escape. “Casso Campbell will destroy everything. Is that what you want? Everything you love to go up in smoke?” I rounded the table.
Just a few yards to go. Then run like your life depends on it.
“Don’t you think we know what Casso is capable of?” Storm growled.
Five more feet. Four. Three.
Prepare to bolt.
“Don’t you think I deserve to make my own decisions?” I shouted back. “I will not be your prisoner too!”
Two. One.
Now!
I reached for the doorknob.
“Stop!” Storm yelled.
Blinding pain exploded in my left wrist. I screamed when someone jerked me back. Squeezing my eyes, I swung my right fist out from my side, aiming for the son of a bitch. Fight or flight. I would damn well fight to the death. Putting all my energy and fury into it, I connected with flesh.
“Motherfucker!”
I opened my eyes, face to face with Zach. All I saw was blood.
He glared, holding his hand over his face, blood spilling through his fingers. “I think you fucking broke my nose!”
“Let go of me,” I growled back at him, tears burning my eyes.
He threw my arm back, making me stumble into the lap of one of his brothers.
An arm went around my waist. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Lynx, shut it,” Zach hissed. “Aspen, get over here,” he demanded with a murderous glint in his eyes.
Fight or flight.
Fight.
I leaned into Lynx, pressing my back to his front, and covered his arm with mine to hold it in place. He seemed like a safe choice compared to the other men in the room.
I turned my head for a look at his face. His handsome face. “Please don’t let go.”
The corner of his lip curled as his hazel eyes twinkled. “Not on your life.” His gaze traveled over my face. “Tell me, was your dad a boxer? Because sweetheart, you’re a knockout.”
Chuckles filled the room.
“Jesus Christ, enough with your cheesy pickups!” Zach told Lynx. He reached for my arm. “Aspen, get the fuck off his lap.”
Lynx swatted Zach away. “You’ve already hurt her once. No more, man. I won’t let her leave.” He pulled me tighter against him.
Okay, this was not going the way I planned.
“I’m warning you, brother. Release her, or I will rip your fucking head off.” Zach kept his hand over his bleeding nose, making a mess all over himself and the floor. He didn’t appear to care.
It seemed he hadn’t outgrown his volatile temper. Why didn’t Storm or anyone else make Zach stop? Maybe tell him to back the fuck up and go take care of his nose? It was like they just let him be an asshole.
Zach had no right to tell me what to do or Lynx, who seemed to be protecting me from the brutal man before me. Even with a room filled with bikers who could pass as ancient gladiators, my money was on Zach. He’d deliver them to the afterlife.
Lynx breathed heavily into my back, taking my hand, and gently pulled the sleeve up.
I hissed, tears pooling in my eyes. Some of the cuts had reopened, evident by the blobs of red on the gauze, thanks to Zach’s massive paws and brute strength.
“Aye, see that?” Lynx gritted out. “Not cool, brother.”
Zach took a couple of steps back, eyes locked on my wrist. His ice-blue eyes flicked to mine, then back to the bandages. I didn’t want him looking at me or what Casso had done. It was personal.
His gaze bore into mine. The air grew suffocating between us. This was the first time we’d really looked at each other in over a decade. He’d been the hottest guy at school when we were together. Now he was ridiculously handsome, even with a swollen eye and bruised face. Filled out with muscles, a razor-sharp jaw beneath his trimmed beard, and those lips pursed together. I swallowed, recalling how I’d get lost in them.
In his cold-as-ice gaze, I recognized remorse and disgust.
“Go clean up,” Storm finally told Zach. “She’s not going anywhere.”
Our eyes stayed connected. I wouldn’t dare cut the connection between us.
Fight or flight.
I wasn’t the same girl he once shattered. I’d been to Hell and back, locked in the Devil’s gold tower. I could take anything Zach dished out.
“Go,” I hissed, glaring at him.
He sneered, then stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
I sagged against Lynx, dropping my chin to my chest, and held my wrist to my body protectively.
“We should check the damage, sweetheart,” Lynx whispered.
“No time for that,” Storm said. “Ciro will be calling soon.”
“Ciro?” I flew off Lynx’s lap, but his arm went around my hips to hold me in place. “You told him I was here?” I screeched. Was this guy an idiot? I was sure as dead now!
Storm sighed. “Relax, Aspen. Ciro is on our side.”
I shook my head, unable to hold back my tears. “Ciro Remotti is Cass’s cousin. They may be estranged, but they’re family. They’d take Cass’s side in a war.” I was gonna be sick. My hopes of being free faltered, along with my legs.
Lynx caught me as I fell, easing me back onto his lap. His hand cradled my cheek. “You’re safe, sweetheart. We won’t let anything happen to you.”
“But what about the rest of you? The women in the club? Cass won’t blink an eye, killing every last one of you.” A shudder rolled through me, thinking of the women who were so kind to me earlier.
How could I come here? What had I been thinking? Bringing Casso Campbell to the doorstep of the people I loved?
To Jill, I meant. Not Zach. Though I’d never wish for any harm to come to him or his old lady.
Nobody spoke, the whole room silent as the grave. Dread welled in my chest as we waited. Casso would blame me for losing the baby. He’d probably think I did it on purpose. Then he’d kill me.
I jumped when the door swung open.
Zach entered, face clean and a fresh shirt, eyes locked on me. What did he do, run? He wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes. He kicked the door closed and reached his clean hand out. “Please,” he muttered.
Please what? I didn’t understand all the drama over me sitting with… sitting on a man’s lap. Zach threw me away a long time ago. Was it about power? A show of dominance? If so, that was barbaric and not something I wanted to be involved in. Been there, done that.
“You don’t have to, sweetheart,” Lynx whispered in my ear.
Hero stood abruptly, grabbing my chair, and brought it around, putting it next to Zach’s. He gave us a curt nod, returning to his seat.
Zach’s frigid stare didn’t leave me. I didn’t want to cause any more trouble than I already had, so I reluctantly took his hand.
Have I learned anything?
An electric bolt shot through me at first touch, much like the first time we met. I stifled the urge to gasp and quickly sat down, slipping my hand out of his. Familiar sensations pummeled me. It was maddening to feel this way after hating him for so long. Warmth shouldn’t rush through my body. My heart shouldn’t flutter as it had when we were together.
This wasn’t okay. Zach Harrisburg meant nothing. He’d been dead to me far longer than I had loved him when I was a stupid teenager.
“For fuck’s sake, I hate all this goddamn drama,” Storm muttered. “Can we get on with this shit, now?” He cut his eyes at Zach.
“Yeah, sorry.” Zach shifted in his chair, leaning forward to put his arms on the table. He was huge. Casso worked out religiously and had a restrictive diet he forced upon me. He was lean and muscular, but Zach was on a whole other level.
His elbow poked me. I held my breath, waiting for him to notice his faux pas. The men sitting across from us watched with interest. Zach did nothing, staying right where he was at… touching me.
What was he doing? Being a jerk. But why? His old lady wouldn’t like it. Or I assumed as much. I certainly wouldn’t want my man engaging his ex the way Zach did me.
Before I moved, Storm’s phone rang. He raised his hand, a cue to be quiet, I assumed.
The hairs on my arms stood as holy terror wiped out everything else I’d been feeling.
“Ciro,” Storm answered.
“Storm, this is some crazy shit. You’ve really got her?”
I trembled despite myself. A lamb to the slaughter rang in my head.
These bikers just signed my death certificate.