His Wrath: Underground, 2 Page 3

  Sharps and Coots stopped him with large grins on their faces. “Dude, you’re a fucking monster in the cage.” Coots shoved the envelope into his hand and let Adrian push past them. “Tate is one happy man with you right now. Keep it up, Adrian,” Coots yelled from behind him, but Adrian didn’t bother responding.

  He didn’t like Tate. It had nothing to do with the fact the man was doing all kinds of illegal shit, the underground cage fights only a small portion of it. Tate just seemed like one bad motherfucker. Adrian tolerated him because he used these fights as an outlet and because it saved him from getting into random ones with strangers on the street and being thrown in jail.

  After washing up in the small, industrial, grime-covered bathroom, Adrian put on a pair of jeans and a black tee. He didn’t have another fight for a couple of hours, and he needed to unwind a bit before he got back in the cage.

  After a fight things moved fast for him, a blur of sound and shapes. Muttering his thanks to the spectators that congratulated him, he made his way toward the bar. All he wanted was a few drinks without being bugged. Maybe he shouldn’t show annoyance toward these people. If not for them, he wouldn’t have a job. Despite that knowledge, he still couldn’t muster enough energy to give a fuck.

  “Give me a double of Crown,” he said as he leaned his elbows on the bar and breathed out roughly. The bartender poured him his drink right away, and Adrian shot it back. He tapped his knuckles on the counter to gesture for another.

  “Can I get two Millers, one Corona, and a Ruby Red Slipper?”

  That voice. Adrian would recognize it anywhere. Cutting a glance to the side, he stared at Brea. As if she sensed his gaze, she looked in his direction. Their gazes caught, held.

  They kept looking at each other for long seconds, and it was as if everything else faded for him. There wasn’t a basement full of people. There wasn’t any sound, no distraction from what he really wanted—and that was her. Only her.

  “Order up,” the bartender said, cutting through their moment.

  She stacked her drinks on the tray and headed back into the crowd, giving him one more glance over her shoulder. He hated that she worked at the club, let alone down here where shit got really rowdy. But he also didn’t miss the big, burly fucker who followed her, the white “SECURITY” stamped on the back of his black shirt.

  Good, looked like Tate was at least taking care of her.

  Adrian held the shot glass to his lips and slowly let the alcohol slide down his throat, never taking his gaze off her. Tate had since put a few tables against the walls. She stopped in front of one, deposited two beers, and made her way to the other one filled with men already three-sheets-to-the-wind drunk. It wasn’t his place to watch her like he fucking owned her, but he couldn’t help it, damn it.

  And then, as if time stood still, he saw one of the men slap her ass as she turned to leave. His entire body went tense, and he felt his hands curl into fists.

  Oh hell no.

  The security on her didn’t have time to react, not when Adrian found himself charging over there, ready to beat that drunk fucker down.

  ****

  Brea knew he was going to touch her ass before he actually did it. That was the problem with working with a bunch of inebriated customers. It never failed to result in some kind of harassment. Taking a step to the side, his hand should have slid off her ass, but instead he slapped one side before gripping her waist and pulling her toward him.

  “Come on, baby.” His breath alone could have gotten her drunk. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had a droopy sort of expression on his face. Hell, all the men at his table wore the exact same expression.

  The security Tate had on her moved forward, this pissed-off expression on his face.

  She wouldn’t react. These types of men fed off it.

  “How about something on the side, sugar? How about you with nothing on and spread wide?”

  Before she could push away from him, before the security could help her, she saw Adrian charging forward. He looked ready to kill someone, that rage on his face tangible.

  “Motherfucker,” Adrian said when he was right in front of her, his focus on the drunken asshole who’d touched her. “I should take you out back and break your arms and legs. Maybe slam my fist into both of your eyes.”

  All Brea could do was stare at Adrian. Standing this close to him had her entire body singing with electricity. Has he always been this tall, this broad and muscular? The tendons strained beneath his tanned flesh, and she could see dark lines of ink peeking from beneath the edge of his shirtsleeve. She knew how delicious his body looked with that ink. She’d seen it whenever she closed her eyes.

  The guy that had accosted her visibly swallowed and cut a glance to his buddies, possibly hoping for a little help. His friends knew better, though. They all shifted in their seats and cleared their throats. They knew Adrian. Everyone did that came to these fights. The guard behind her made this gruff sound but didn’t move to stop Adrian from taking this further.

  “Okay, okay. No harm, no foul.” The man who had groped Brea looked genuinely scared shitless. Good.

  “No harm, no foul?” Adrian took a threatening step forward, the menace pouring off him in waves. Was she about to see him fight this guy up close and personal? Outside of the cage?

  “No, it’s fine,” she ended up saying, not wanting this to get bloody. God, she was dizzy, and she couldn’t breathe. Why was it so hot in here?

  Strong arms gripped her shoulders, and then she was being led through the crowd. She smelled him, this scent that calmed her, stabilized her. It was the same masculine, intoxicating aroma that enveloped her, washed through her. How could she forget that scent when it had been the first thing her senses had registered all those weeks ago?

  The night air blew her hair around, and it was then she realized she was outside of the club.

  “Hey, are you okay?” He didn’t touch her again, and she had mixed feelings about that.

  “I’m fine, thank you,” she said as she took a deep breath and finally lifted her gaze to his. He stood several feet away from her, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans, a look of concern etched in his extremely handsome features.

  “I’m sorry about that. It’s just, shit, I saw him touch you and I went off. I couldn’t control myself.”

  Every time she looked at him, even when he was pummeling some guy’s face, she couldn’t help but take note of his raw masculinity. He wasn’t handsome in the classical sense. Not with the rough, sharp planes of his face, his fuller lips that seemed to have a perpetual frown on them, and the hint of a five-o’clock shadow that covered his hard jaw, but he was gorgeous to her nonetheless.

  “No, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

  “You didn’t look fine. Right now you look a little shell-shocked.”

  “I’m good. Dealing with assholes is in the job description.” Her laugh was meant to lighten the situation, but it sounded humorless even to her. “I’m not a head case, really. I’ve just…” No, she’d already said too much. He didn’t need to know about her personal shit, about the baggage she carried. What was wrong with her?

  Shaking her head, she forced herself to hold his gaze. Why did he make her feel so unhinged in the best of ways when no other man had before?

  “I don’t think you acted like a head case.” He grinned down at her, and her heart beat a little faster. “In fact, if it’ll make you smile, I’ll go kick that guy’s ass into next Sunday.”

  Although she knew he’d been about to do just that, his comment held a teasing tone in it, and she couldn’t help but smile.

  “Ahh, there it is.”

  “There’s what?” His focus on her was doing things to her body. Things that excited her but also made her nervous as hell.

  “The smile I’ve been wanting to see.” He ran a hand over his short hair and glanced away from her. Was he actually embarrassed by his comment? “Sorry if that was inappropriate. It’s just”—he pause
d—“fuck, I’m sorry. I’m acting all weird now.”

  It was almost endearing to see him act so flustered. Adrian was a big man, and all she had ever seen from him was this stone-cold hardness that put lesser men to shame. Now, the way he grinned at her, he almost seemed … boyish.

  “No, it’s fine. You’re acting fine. Listen, thank you so much for helping me out back there. I kind of freaked out, and if you hadn’t helped me, I probably would have still been standing there taking that guy’s shit.” That might not have been the whole truth. Since leaving Cameron, she’d taken a few self-defense classes and knew how to handle herself to an extent. The only problem was her fear always made her immobile, so it was hard for her to put that self-defense training to good use. That was a problem she was going to have to get over fast if she had a chance of surviving. “And thank you for helping me that other time, as well. I feel like you’re starting to be my knight in shining armor.” She felt her cheeks heat.

  He continued to watch her. It had taken a long time for her to get past the abuse from Cameron and realize it wasn’t her fault, that she was a person, too, and deserved to be respected and loved. Maybe one day she would feel like that with another man. Maybe one day she could put her issues aside and actually let herself trust another person.

  As she looked into Adrian’s eyes, ones that she knew were a beautiful blue color but that right now looked black from the shadows, she wished he was the one she could let herself be free with. Here he’d saved her for a second time.

  “Anyway. Thanks again, but I should probably head back in there. I don’t want my boss to get mad at me.” She smiled, hoping to relieve some of the tension she felt was starting to build. “I kind of need this job.”

  “I’m sure Tate will understand.”

  She wasn’t surprised he knew Tate. He was, after all, fighting in the owner’s illegal cage fights. What surprised her though was that he seemed pretty confident that Tate wouldn’t care that one of his employees was outside socializing when they should have been working.

  “Maybe, but I don’t want to test it.” She lifted her hand in a pathetic wave goodbye and turned to go back inside. “I really do owe you for saving me once again. Thank you,” she said over her shoulder.

  “Wait.” He spoke softly, yet that one word had her stopping and glancing over her shoulder.

  Brea desperately wanted to be close to Adrian, which confused her since she knew nothing about him. There was just this connection she felt with him, one that went down to her marrow. Even after everything, she wanted to connect with Adrian, wanted to let him hold her hand, hug her close to his big body, and tell her everything would be okay.

  Stupid girl.

  Brea held her breath, waiting for him to continue.

  “Maybe that payment can be dinner with me.”

  She turned fully around and felt her eyes widen at his proposition.

  She smiled at him, the act almost involuntary as it curved her lips. “Dinner?”

  He let out a breath as if he had been holding it. “Yeah. Just dinner.” He ran his hand over the back of his neck again, and she wondered if it was something he did when he was nervous. “You don’t owe me shit, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’d really like dinner, Brea.”

  The way he said her name, how it rolled off his tongue, had her body heating.

  A beat of silence passed between them and he said, “I mean, you’d be doing me a favor keeping me company. Not many people want that job these days.”

  The laugh that bubbled out of her was completely unexpected. How long had it been since she had laughed? Too damn long for her to remember. In all honesty Adrian was exactly the type of man Brea should stay away from. It was obvious he had his own demons he dealt with, if the way he fought in the cage was anything to go by.

  It had been so long since she had allowed herself the pleasure of company, since she’d felt safe enough to let herself just live. Adrian had showed her on two occasions now that he was protective, saving her when he didn’t have to get involved.

  “Shit, I’m sorry I put you on the spot. I feel like an asshole now. You’ve just been through some shit and here I am being a pathetic fuck and asking you to dinner.”

  She found herself reaching out and grabbing his thick forearm. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said softly. When her hand touched his warm, hard flesh, Brea found it hard to breathe. Letting go of his arm, she was the one that felt like a dumbass now. “I’m sorry.” What else was she supposed to say?

  A small gasp escaped her when she felt his big hand take her much smaller one and clutch it. She brought her gaze up, not knowing what to expect to see in his expression, but what she saw left her dizzy and breathless.

  Need.

  5

  Adrian was a fucking fool. A dumb motherfucker for even entertaining the idea that there could be something between them. If his past hadn’t been a good enough reason to stay away from her, his aggression and hatred of himself, and the fact she was clearly dealing with her own problems, should have sealed the deal. But the truth was he wanted to protect her, wanted to keep her safe, keep her close.

  He wanted to make her his, make sure no one ever fucked with her again.

  It was clear she had past issues as well, especially after he saw her reaction to being touched by the drunks. Sure, any woman might have reacted like that, but when he had looked into her eyes both times, he’d seen honest fear that came from experience.

  Even the thought of someone hurting Brea had his hand that wasn’t holding hers curling into a tight fist.

  They stared at each other for several long moments, and he wondered if she could see all the need and want he had for her. The feelings were crazy and possessive … obsession. His emotions were powerful and all-consuming. Nothing was said, and then she pulled her hand away and walked past him.

  “Please, Brea.” Was he actually begging her to go out to dinner with him? Fuck, he hadn’t been on a date since … shit … years.

  She looked at him, indecision sweeping across her expression. Never in his life had he wanted something as much as he wanted her. Even if all she did was allow him that one dinner, he would accept it with a smile and a thank you.

  The emotion was fresh and raw and had a building storm of turmoil growing inside of him. This woman before him, whom he hardly knew, made him feel things he had never felt, that he thought he could never feel again.

  “Okay.”

  Her whispered agreement had his pulse accelerating. Who knew one little word could make him feel so much? “Okay?” It was stated as a question even though hers hadn’t been.

  “Yes.” The smile that touched her lips was endearing and a little on the shy side.

  He couldn’t help his grin as he looked down at her.

  “Here.” Digging into his pocket, he searched for a scrap of paper and pen. When he came up empty, he glanced at the small black apron tied around her waist. He could see her pen and order tablet sticking out from one of the pockets.

  She glanced down to where he was looking at. “Here.” When she handed him the pen and the tablet, he tore off a sheet of paper and jotted his number down on it. When he gave everything back, he noticed how her hands slightly shook as she took it out of his grasp.

  “Hey.” He waited until she looked at him again before he continued. “You’re in control here, okay?” After a second she visibly relaxed. At that moment he wanted to find the guy who’d hurt her, that had her feeling like she was helpless, and beat him until all his rage and all her pain were gone.

  She glanced down at his number for a second before she shoved it in her pocket and started writing something on a blank page. When she tore it off and handed it to him and he saw her number written on it, he couldn’t help his smile or the way excitement coursed through him. Shit, she had him wrapped around her finger already.

  He was thankful for a lot of damn things, but right now, at this exact moment, he was so very thankful that she trus
ted him enough to give him those ten little digits.

  Giving Adrian her number had Brea contemplating if that had been the best course of action. Since moving away, she’d done everything in her power to go unnoticed, and here she was, at the very first opportunity, giving away pieces of herself.

  One more look in the mirror confirmed she was ready for her date tonight. Did she really want affection so badly that she would risk everything she’d worked so hard for?

  Adrian had offered to pick her up, but she’d declined. She needed to keep her independence, her calm and collection. They were to meet up at a little Italian restaurant on Hickory Ridge Street. Her nerves were shot to hell, her palms were sweating, and her heart raced.

  “Why am I doing this? Why am I being so damn foolish?”

  Take control of my life. Live it the way I want to.

  Grabbing her keys and purse, she double-checked to make sure her pepper spray was safely stashed away in the inside pocket. Smoothing her hands down the front of her jeans, she headed out the door.

  Primos was a renowned restaurant that specialized in homemade pasta and sauces. It was a ten-minute drive from where she lived, the center of town, which was a hell of a lot nicer than her current residence.

  When she walked in, the smell of garlic and tomatoes surrounding her. Brea looked around the small, almost intimate interior. The two-seater tables were situated in the center of the room with the booths pressed up against the walls. She didn’t see Adrian, but several of the booths faced away from her, so it was possible he was seated in one of them.

  “Evening, miss. Table for one?”

  Brea drew her attention to the hostess booth to her right and the young, extremely attractive redhead behind it. “I, uh…I’m meeting someone here.”

  The hostess smiled. “Of course. I can take you to a table to wait.”

  “Brea?”

  Adrian’s deep and gravelly voice had her turning around and all thoughts leaving her mind. Just one look at him had her common sense taking a vacation. The dark slacks and loafers he wore were casual but sophisticated, unlike the way she’d seen him thus far. Before, he’d looked so savage almost. But now he looked refined, brutally handsome.