Brawler (Detroit After Dark) Read online

  Did I mention she has a great ass? That ass is fine, and yes, I’m totally staring at it. What? Like you wouldn’t?

  I’m twenty-eight years old. I’ve dated, I went through my “ho” phase, but I don’t think I’ve ever blushed before. My god, am I old enough for hot flashes? I swear I can feel him staring at my ass. It’s decent as far as asses go, but still … I can actually feel his eyes. I wasn’t lying when I said he was full of surprises. He opened my door for me. Guys actually do that?

  This is a first for me. Doug Baker actually hit me in the face with a door at the Super 8 after prom, so since then my expectations have been pretty low.

  He catches up with me and we walk in side by side. Having someone keep pace with me is nice, too. Venessa’s legs are so short she takes one step to my three and always complains walking with me is like speed walking with her thong up her ass. In Venessa speak, that means uncomfortable.

  I’m almost five-foot-eight, so I’m not short by any means, but he makes me feel tiny. He’s six-foot-three, probably 260 pounds, and has long, messy brown hair and green eyes, but it’s his crooked smile that gets me. Yes, his body is ripped, no denying that, but when he smiles every synapse in my body fires up. That fucking smile says so much. Like he’s sure and unsure at the same time.

  Jonas is cocky, but he’s not really an asshole. Even when he says asshole things, he doesn’t intend it to be taken that way. Odd how I’m just figuring this out now. What’s also odd is that I like that doesn’t take himself too seriously. That’s the one thing I wish I could change about myself; I tend to be too serious too often, but not him. He can make any situation into a joke, and I like that, too.

  Making our way into the building you can hear the lovebirds right away, and it sounds like V is kicking his ass.

  “Mornin’.”

  “Hey,” they say in unison, catching their breath.

  “Good morning.”

  I sit down on the mat to stretch, and the second I lie down on my back I’m getting humped by a Chihuahua in a sweater. Ah, so this is Boner, then.

  “Boner,” growls Rogan, but the dog totally ignores him.

  “Come here, precious,” says Venessa, clapping. The dog happily runs over to her, leaving me in a hump-n-dump situation. Sadly, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me, either.

  “So that’s Boner, huh?” Jonas says, looking at the puppy. “I thought it’d be bigger?”

  “Size isn’t everything,” I point out.

  “And you’d be wrong,” he says. “If I told you I had a small dick, pretty sure you wouldn’t stare at it as much as you do.”

  “Uh …”

  “Nothing to add?” he asks, getting in my space.

  “I’ll think of something, I like research.”

  “Just bring lube,” he says, backing away smiling. “Your sense of adventure and a video camera. You know, for research.”

  “If you two are done,” says Rogan, rolling his eyes. “Two more are missing. Captain tells us these are daughters of GM high-ups who say the girls went out last night but didn’t come home.”

  “This one,” says Venessa, handing us a photo, “is a Wayne State student, and this one is an Oakland University student.”

  “Where were they last seen?” I ask. “Do they have jobs?”

  “Lush,” they say in synch.

  “Seems they also are doing their internships at your hospital,” says Rogan.

  “Fuck,” says Jonas. “So shit just got real again.”

  “Which brings us to why we’re here,” says Venessa. “It’s time for me to go back to work, and I need you two to watch the club while Rogue watches me.”

  “And when we’re not at the club?”

  “We hunt,” says Rogan.

  “We train today,” she says. “In case something comes up and the girls went on a bender or something. But I go back on Friday, so we’ll meet up again prior to that and plan Friday’s rotation.”

  “Can I have those pictures? I’d like to do some background work.”

  “Have at it,” she says. “You’re the resident computer wiz, so if you find something, let us know.”

  I nod, excited to have something to do that I’m actually quite good at. Computers are easy for me. I’m not sure why, but if it has anything to do with research, I’ll figure it out.

  “You’re that good on computers?” Jonas asks, looking at me with admiration, maybe?

  “Actually, she’s even better,” says Venessa, winking.

  “Less talking, more fighting,” says Rogan with authority. Which, really doesn’t work when he’s holding a three-pound, people-humping Chihuahua wearing a sweater that sparkles. “None of this gets out; Cap wants us to handle it. Word gets out and we’re fucked.”

  We all nod in understanding. Then I make my way over to the open floor where V has a kick dummy set up. When she first started bringing me here to train I’d laugh when she would approach the dummy. Why? Because it’s bigger than she is and she dressed it up like a pimp in training when instead it looks like a teenager. I stopped laughing when she went thug on it. When it was my turn I couldn’t even get the thing to move, let alone knock it over. Now with several years of training behind me, I’ve made the kick dummy my bitch. I’m still learning how to use my moves on people, though, because as proven in the past, they don’t stay still.

  “Why touch a boy when you can play with a man?” he says, but then has the decency to wince. That one even made me flinch, but challenge accepted.

  “You think you’re man enough for me, huh?” I ask, taunting him, hoping to get that look of his face.

  “That didn’t come out right,” he says, embarrassed.

  “I knew what you meant,” I say. “Let’s do it.”

  “In front of those two?” he asks “Kinky.”

  “How do you want me?” I ask spreading my legs in a fighter’s stance.

  “You’re making this worse,” he offers, looking uncomfortable. “Turn around.”

  I turn around as asked, and I’m about to turn my head to see what he’s doing when from out of nowhere he takes me to the ground, hard. This is it, I think to myself. Years of training have been invested into this body, and it’s time I showed him what I can do.

  I break his wrist lock by turning my wrist in toward him and pulling away like a snap. He’s shocked by it, but quickly recovers, grabbing me again. Venessa taught me never to stay on my stomach exposing my back, so I arch up, forcing him to loosen his hold. He isn’t giving me any special treatment, and I like that. Once he’s up as high as I can take him I’m able to flip myself onto my back where I can use my legs.

  He renews his efforts by adjusting himself to subdue me while I’m on my back. My legs, however, are long and wicked strong, so I use them to launch him several feet back giving me a chance to get to my own. Now I’m standing, so when he charges me, I counter and he misses, barely. Holding myself back because I love playing with him, I give him a chance to right himself and when I turn to counter him again, I’m on the ground with me knees parted and his fist inches from my face.

  Shit.

  Thank fuck she turned around so she didn’t see my boner. The back and forth foreplay has me rock hard.

  Jesus, the girl can flirt. She actually responded to my attempt at flirting, which was fucking embarrassing.

  “Why touch a boy when you can play with a man?” Fuck! Who says shit like that?

  Oh right, I do.

  Telling her to turn around was partially to get her attention elsewhere so she wouldn’t see the wood I’m sporting, but it was also to catch her off guard.

  I decided again to take Venessa’s advice to treat her as I would Venessa.

  I’d never hold back with her, so as much as I don’t want to hurt Macy, if she wants to be an equal then I’ll show her what that’s about.

  Taking her to the ground harder than I intended made me feel like a bastard. But when she broke my grip instantly, I realized she can tak
e what I’m dishing out, so I grabbed her again just as hard.

  She managed to get herself onto her back, then propelled me at least four feet back allowing her to get to her feet. Okay, so that was hot and a little unexpected.

  Giving her no time to get her balance I rushed her, but she moved just before I could grab her. Her mistake was not taking me down when my back was to her, so righting myself, I turned quickly and took her back down to the ground. Within seconds I secured her wrists above her head, use my knees to spread her legs, weakening her further. I released my right arm leaving, my left holding both her wrists and brought my arm back and down, stopping just before connecting with her beautiful face.

  Two things happened when she realized she’d lost.

  The first was defeat.

  The second was desire.

  She knew I’d won, but was as excited as I was about our current position.

  Then, like a switch went off, her face went flat and a wall went up.

  My princess doesn’t like to lose.

  “Get up,” I say extending my hand “Let me show you what you did wrong.”

  “I don’t need help,” she says. “And I know what I did wrong.”

  “Well?” I ask.

  “I didn’t take advantage when your back was turned.”

  “Why didn’t you then?” I ask.

  “Because, I was staring at your ass?”

  “Can’t blame you,” I say. “Seriously, why didn’t you?”

  “I don’t know,” she says, shrugging. “It didn’t seem sporting.”

  “Come again?” I ask, instantly pissed off “Sporting? There’s nothing fucking ‘sporting’ about survival, Princess. If your attacker turns his back to you, use it. Do you want to get raped or killed, is that it?” She flinches and I realize I crossed a line, but I can’t back down now.

  “Why are you yelling at me?” she asks. Now that’s a great question.

  “Why?” I yell even louder. “Because criminals aren’t ‘sporting’ Macy, shit! I don’t know what the fuck we agreed to, but you do not belong here!”

  “Watch that tone, Rafe,” says Venessa inching toward me

  “Relax,” I say walking away. “Worry about you.”

  Fucking Venessa.

  Today’s lesson, kids? Practice what you preach.

  I turned to walk away to cool off, because I had no right yelling at Macy like that. But fuck! She’s just too soft-hearted for this shit.

  Venessa, however, is not.

  She took me down quickly and efficiently, and when I tried to get up she refused to let me. Obviously I’m not going to get physical with her, but I’ll be damned if I like being handled by a chick.

  She knelt down to speak to where only I could hear while keeping one boney knee wedged into my spine.

  “If you ever treat her with disrespect like that again, I will have you replaced, like, you know … buried.” she says. “I’m not even going to ask if you understand me, Rafe. That’s strike one. She can hold her own, so quit thinking with your dick. Pay attention, yeah? She held back, remember that. I can’t wait to see your face when she proves you wrong. Well, what’s left of it.”

  She stands back up using my skull as a crutch and manages to kick me in the head before walking away.

  Getting up I look over to Macy, who seems to have forgotten all about me and is focused on Boner instead.

  “Macy,” says Venessa. “Answer your fucking phone already and tell Ben you’re busy.”

  Ben? Who the fuck is Ben? Oh, shit. The guy from school that follows her around.

  She opens her bag and takes out her phone and frowns.

  “What does he want?” asks Venessa. “Shit, he must have called ten times.”

  “Uh,” she says, looking nervous. “It wasn’t Ben.”

  “Who was it?” asks Rogue.

  Now she’s looking at everything in the room but the people occupying it.

  “Macy,” Venessa says. “Who was it?”

  I inch closer to her, hoping to see the number.

  “I don’t know,” she says. “It says unknown.”

  “How many times did this unknown call you?” I ask, getting riled up all over again.

  “Today?”

  “You’ve been getting unknown calls other than today and you don’t think to say anything?” I yell. “What the fuck’s the matter with you?” When she stays silent, I keep going. “How can someone be so smart and so stupid?”

  “Strike two,” says Venessa, looking pissed.

  “We’re calling it a day,” says Rogue. “Macy, you wanna ride with us?”

  “Fuck that,” I say “She’s riding with me.”

  “It’s her choice,” says Rogue.

  “What is she, twelve, Rogue?” I ask.

  “No, but you fucking treat her like she is,” he says.

  I look over to Macy and I can tell by the look on her face that she’s embarrassed. Fuck!

  “We need to talk,” I say. “You’re riding with me.”

  “Actually,” she says, “I’m not.”

  I call her name but she just keeps walking. Straight out the door, middle finger in the air, into my partner’s truck and away from me.

  The ride back to my place is quiet.

  His words shouldn’t hurt, but they do. I shouldn’t care what he thinks, but I do.

  Even Rogan and Venessa are quiet, except for talking to the dog.

  Instead of defending myself, I just stare out the window.

  I’m embarrassed, but I’ll get over it; I always do.

  Will I ever be enough? I’m so sick of being the “smart one,” good for stats and Band-Aids but useless otherwise. There’s more to me than my brain. Why won’t he see that?

  Venessa is the first to break the silence just as we round the block to my house. Rogan, no doubt knowing what she’s thinking, nods in approval.

  “Macy,” she begins. “I’m not defending Rafe here, but why didn’t you tell us you were getting unknown calls?”

  “It just started happening,” I say. “There’s never a message, so I ignored it. I figured it was a telemarketer or something.”

  “We’re a team,” she says. “But I’m your best friend first; you should have told me.”

  “I tell you everything,” I say. “Both of you. I didn’t put a lot of thought into it, all right? Shit, I have enough going on with school that I don’t pay attention to my phone. I’ll just change the number.”

  “That’s smart,” she says. “But I want to know why you didn’t tell me, us.”

  “For the record, I’m eight months older than you,” I say. “And the last time I checked, I could wipe my own ass. It’s a few unknown calls, for Christ’s sake. Just give me a fucking break already.”

  “I’m not trying to piss you off,” she says. “It’s just that … I worry.”

  “We worry,” he says, pulling into my driveway.

  “Now who’s treating me like I’m twelve?” I ask, getting out. “Thanks for the ride.”

  I was going to slam the door but decided against it. I closed it with the right amount of force, waved an overhead goodbye, and went inside to just be alone.

  Tossing my keys and bag on the table, I kick my shoes off and sit down on my couch to feel sorry for myself. Why does everyone think I’m a fucking thumb-sucking toddler all of a sudden?

  I get up, grab my phone out of my bag, and there are six more unknown missed calls.

  I’ll change the number tomorrow.

  For now, I need a distraction.

  I reach into my bag and pull out the photos of the two missing girls and sit down to start my research.

  I can study tonight, I repeat to myself over and over. Studying for me always comes first. It’s such a big part of my life. It’s a compulsion. The fact I’m able to focus on this instead of working is new for me, and truth? I kind of like it.

  Hours later, I crack my neck, then stand up to take a break. Making my notes, the two biggest red f
lags on both girls is that they intern at my hospital, though I’ve never met them and they went to Lush a lot. That aside, they are good students, no real debt or bad habits, and like going clubbing on the weekends.

  No boyfriends are noted, but that doesn’t discount a hookup gone wrong. My neck is tingling, which means this is all wrong, I fucking know it. Question is, how do I prove it? Lush, the hospital, I mean, break it down, it’s not hard. All this means in its simplest form is me and Venessa, period. Actually, I think it’s just about me, and the fact that she and I are a package deal brought her into the mix. Venessa was doing her vengeance thing long before I was able to test my formula. It wasn’t until she started using it to help me collect data that we started having problems. Now the problems seem to be piling up faster than we can sort them out.

  The problem with being a self-proclaimed nerd is when I get invested in something, I tend to lose focus on what’s happening around me. I lose hours, but it feels like minutes. I don’t eat, I don’t sleep, and I don’t process the outside world. It’s a good trait to have when you’re researching, but it causes problems, too.

  Like for instance, now. How did I not notice someone had been in my house?

  Setting my work aside, I grab my gun from the desk and secure it in my right hand. I sort of have a thing for guns. They are so badass. I started out with a 9mm and loved it so much I moved way up to my .45 that I carry pretty much daily. I love to shoot so much V stopped taking me to the range with her. She says unloading three hundred rounds is excessive. Fuck that, I say it’s orgasmic. I also think Little Miss Competitive doesn’t like being out-gunned, so to speak. I don’t mind, though; going solo to the range, for me, is like chicks who like to buy shoes. It’s a must. Although, the whole ammo shortage has slowed me down a bit because I refuse to hack into my stockpile, but my hoarding issues can be analyzed another day.

  I check each room of my house starting with the kitchen, then heading to each spare room and both bathrooms, and I saved my room for last. I did so because I had a feeling that’s exactly where I was supposed to be.

  Opening my door I look at my bed right away, turning on the one light he didn’t break. I see it’s torn apart with the pillows and blankets thrown off the side. The sheets are a fucking mess and when I approach the bed to look more closely, I see it.