Moody: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Read online

  A dark chuckle answers me on the other end. “Your boyfriend made a deal with me, and I plan on capitalizing on it.”

  Moody. God, what has he done?

  Trying to keep my voice steady, I ask, “What kind of a deal?”

  “I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.” Another cruel laugh sends a cold chill down my spine and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “Just remember that you could have prevented all this. I didn’t ask for much, just a little bit of respect. And you.”

  My throat clenches shut.

  “What have you done?”

  “Just giving your boyfriend exactly what he asked for. A means to make amends.”

  “If you hurt him–”

  “You’ll what?”

  I swallow over the empty threat. “Please don’t do this.”

  “You know my terms. Him or me?”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose and exhale a shaky breath.

  “And if I choose you?” I ask, needing to know his conditions, even though I have no plans on accepting them.

  “Then the fight stops. I’ll erase Griffin’s debt. And we can move forward, like none of this shit ever happened. And your boyfriend walks away with just a few bruises. Everyone wins.”

  A fight. So that’s what he’s planning.

  “What’ll it be, Isabelle? You know the life I can give you. Are you really ready to give that up?”

  “Yes.” I swallow past the lump in my throat.

  I hear the snarl on the other end. “Wrong choice, darling.”

  The phone goes dead.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  I try Moody’s cell and it goes straight to voicemail.

  Rain pellets hit the windshield as I stare out, trying to figure out what I should do. If he’s fighting, then maybe Theo knows where he is.

  I do a search and find the gym’s number.

  “This is Izzy Stewart,” I say, when Theo answers. “I’m….friends with Moody.”

  “I know who you are.” There’s a tightness to his voice like he knows I’m about to drop a bomb. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you know where Moody is?”

  “No. He skipped today’s training.” Silence, followed by a heavy sigh. “Why? Is he in some kind of trouble?”

  “I think so.” I tell Theo everything I know, which is met by a series of muttered curses.

  “There’s an unsanctioned fighting ring every Saturday down at the old, abandoned warehouse just past First Street. Jason’s family runs it.”

  “That’s where he is then.” I turn the ignition. “I have to go.”

  “Not alone. I’m coming with you. Pick me up outside the gym.”

  I don’t argue, because in all honesty, I don’t have a clue what I’m going to do when I get there.

  Chapter 24

  Izzy

  Thirty minutes later, I’m standing in front of an old, run-down warehouse, while Theo argues with two of the bouncers to let us in.

  The itch of frustration working its way up my spine has my skin burning. I need to get to Moody. Now. I can’t shake the feeling that whatever Jason has planned, it’s more than just a fight, and every minute that goes by, I feel the foreboding pulling tighter at my throat.

  “You’re not on the list.” The larger of the two men, who’s still a good two inches shorter than Theo, makes an obvious display of tensing his muscles.

  “Fifty dollars says otherwise.” Theo places a bill in the man’s hand, then leans in and says something I can’t hear. Whatever it is, the bouncer moves out of the way, allowing us through the steel door.

  As we make our way through the crowd, the smell of cheap alcohol, sweat and smoke is so overwhelming I have to cover my nose.

  I cough when the man next to me blows a puff of cigar smoke in my direction.

  “Do you know how many health code violations I’ve counted already?”

  “There’s nothing legal about this place,” Theo growls out above the noise, pushing me through the mob towards the makeshift octagon in the center of the room.

  My gaze goes directly to the two men shuffling around each other in the ring. They’re both big and well-muscled, but neither of them is Moody. They lunge at each other, and the crowd goes crazy, like bloodthirsty demons needing their fix.

  “Stay close.” Theo grips my arm, and I see his jaw muscles tense and flex. “Moody’s going to kill me for letting you come here.”

  I ignore the comment, because I can see why. This is nothing like the fights I’ve seen on television. Those seem civilized compared to what I’m witnessing now.

  Blood splatters from the nose of one of the men. In response, he knees his opponent in the groin, then brings an elbow down hard on the back of the man’s neck.

  I wince. “Isn’t that against the rules?”

  “There are no rules.” Theo’s expression is tight, and I can see the worry etched into his already hard features.

  “And now, ladies and gentleman…” The announcer’s mic cracks. “The final fight of the night. The east coast bad boy himself, Moody ‘The Destroyer’ Brock.”

  My stomach flip-flops. We’re too late.

  Despite the gravity of the situation, I’m momentarily stunned when I see Moody. Eyes dark and focused, muscles tensing and bunching under his t-shirt, he emits an aura of power that has the men around him taking a step backwards.

  Theo pulls me forward, but the crowd is thick around him, and we can’t get through.

  Inside the cage, Moody pulls his shirt off, and the women’s catcalls begin. I can’t even blame them. Every ab muscle, every sinew and tendon is clearly defined. His long hair is pulled back in a bun, but as usual, a few strands have fallen loose and hang around his angular jaw.

  Theo mutters something that I can’t hear, eyes trained on Moody.

  “What?”

  “He’s injured.” His nostrils flare and he nods at Moody. “See the fresh bruising on his ribs.”

  I see it now. New dark bruising over the old green ones that Griffin gave him, the way he winces when he throws an air punch, the slight sheen of sweat that dots his forehead.

  “Can we stop this?”

  Theo doesn’t look at me, just shakes his head.

  “But if he’s injured, he could get seriously hurt.”

  “We have to let it play out. I just hope the fucker he’s fighting–” Theo’s words are stopped by the crackle of the microphone and the announcer’s voice.

  “And his opponent. Coming out of retirement for one night only…Griffin Stewart.”

  My heart feels like it stops in my chest.

  Griffin. It suddenly hits me what Jason planned.

  “Fuck,” Theo says beside me, echoing my thoughts.

  The crowd cheers as my brother makes his way towards the ring.

  I see the shock in Moody’s eyes. He didn’t know. It’s obvious. But when I glance at my brother as he steps inside the cage, the look of pure hatred in his eyes, I wonder if he didn’t have a part in organizing this.

  What have you done, Griffin?

  “He can’t fight him,” I mutter, the sense of foreboding a freaking siren in my ears now.

  Theo glances at me, brows furrowed. “Moody won’t hurt him.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about.” The baseball size lump in my throat makes it almost impossible to swallow. “Moody won’t fight back.”

  “Fuck.” Theo’s lips draw back over his teeth.

  When the ref starts the fight, my breath stills, and my mouth goes dry.

  Griffin throws the first punch, which Moody evades with a quick duck. At least he’s not just standing there, letting my brother use him as a punching bag like he did a few nights ago.

  Moody dodges each blow easily. But he’s not striking back, and I know he won’t.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid man.

  There’s only one way this fight will end, with Moody laid out on the mats. And all I can do is pray that my brother doesn’t kill him while doing it
.

  Moody ducks another one of Griffin’s right hooks. They circle each other, the cheering slowly dying down, a soft mumble of disproval taking its place. Moody’s brows furrow, and I see him say something to Griffin, which only makes the fury in my brother’s gaze increase.

  Attacking with a series of strikes, Griffin lands two hard shots. Moody returns the blows, with a few punches to Griffin’s core. The shots lack the power I know he’s capable of, and the crowd seems to know it too, because a few people start to hiss and boo.

  There’s a slight hesitation before Moody straightens and delivers an uppercut that snaps Griffin’s head back.

  My hands immediately fly to my mouth. I don’t know what’s worse, watching Moody allow Griffin to brutalize him, or seeing the pain in his eyes when he has to strike back.

  “Is this ever going to end?” I’m clutching Theo’s arm, as the fifth-round starts.

  “This is the last round.”

  “Thank God.” I don’t know how much more I can take.

  It starts the same way as the others, with Griffin on the offensive, and Moody blocking most of his shots. Griffin’s taken a few good punches too, and his face is busted up, lip bleeding, right eye swollen half shut. But even though Moody isn’t bleeding, I can tell from his strained expression that he’s in serious pain.

  Griffin’s shots come hard and fast, until he’s got Moody up against the ropes.

  Words are exchanged, and I see Griffin’s face pale. When Moody drops his gloves, I want to scream.

  There’s a moment of hesitation when both men just stare at each other. I’m not sure if anyone else notices, but I can see the years of hurt, betrayal, anger, and resentment as it passes between them.

  Griffin pushes at Moody’s shoulders and steps back, growling angry words that only Moody can hear. I think he’s about to turn and walk away, when Moody shouts something that makes Griffin’s face turn three shades of red.

  I blink, and the next thing I know, Moody is on the ground, Griffin on top of him.

  Smack. Smack. Smack.

  Griffin pounds on Moody’s body like it’s a punching bag. Blow after blow until I’m screaming so hard my throat hurts.

  Whether he can or not, Moody doesn’t fight back. His eyes roll, and I see the moment when he loses consciousness.

  Stop the fight.

  Griffin’s fist slams into his face, and his head bounces off the mat.

  Stop the damn fight.

  I grip Theo’s arm, nails dinging into his flesh. “Why aren’t they stopping the fight? He’s going to kill him.”

  Theo moves so fast, I barely register him jumping in the cage.

  I stand there numb, until I’m being pushed forward by the crowd. Without Theo’s large frame to protect me, I’m being tossed around like a rag doll.

  Using all of my strength, I scratch and dig through the mob, until I’m at the ropes.

  All I can do is hold my breath and watch the scene unfold before me.

  Griffin takes a swing at Theo when he tries to pull him off. Theo doesn’t have the same hang-up about hitting my brother as Moody does, and one clean shot to the temple has Griffin laid out on the mat.

  The crowd goes crazy. People are swearing, screaming, a few try to jump into the ring, before the guards pull them back. It’s complete chaos.

  For a moment, I think I’m going to be crushed to death, until a hand reaches down and pulls me into the ring.

  “You okay?” Theo grips my shoulders, steadying me.

  I nod, then push past him to where Moody is still splayed out on the mat.

  He’s not moving.

  No. Oh, God, please no.

  His pulse is weak, his breathing shallow, and labored.

  “Call an ambulance,” I scream.

  Theo’s face tightens and he hesitates briefly before pulling his cell from his back pocket.

  The ref grips Theo’s wrist. “You know I can’t let you do that.”

  Two men carrying a long wooden board step into the ring, and I see their intent. They’re planning on moving him.

  “Are you insane? He needs medical attention.”

  “Step back, lady.” One of the men grip my shoulder.

  “Take your hands off her,” Theo warns.

  “Then get her out of here.”

  “I’m not leaving him,” I say through the strangle in my throat.

  Moody groans and his one eye that isn’t completely swollen shut opens slightly. “I can walk.”

  I look down at him horrified, and he clasps my hand, his lips turning up in what is supposed to be a smile, but looks more like a grimace.

  “It’s better if we can get him out of here.” Theo crouches beside him, then places an arm under Moody’s shoulder to help him up.

  Some of the crowd is starting to weed out, but it’s my brother’s cold gaze from the opposite side of the ring that catches me. I recognize the back of the man he’s talking to. Jason. And that sinking feeling I felt when I first saw him enter the cage hits me again.

  Did they plan this together? And what would have happened if Theo hadn’t been here to break up the fight? Because I have a bad feeling that the ref was under strict orders not to stop it.

  Griffin’s lips curl up, and he turns away.

  The walk to the car is excruciatingly painful, and I’m not even the one with a possible concussion and broken ribs.

  Moody is quiet, pensive, the only sound he makes are a few grunts when he has to walk down a couple steps.

  “We need to get you to the hospital,” I say when we get to my car, and Theo helps him into the passenger seat.

  He shakes his head, jaw set in a stubborn line. “Just take me home. It’s nothing that a few Tylenols won’t fix.”

  “Is he being serious?” I glance at Theo who shrugs, and gets in the backseat.

  “Your ribs could be broken.” I slam the door and start the ignition. “Or you could have a concussion.”

  “No hospitals,” he says through a hiss, when the car jolts forward. His lips twist up in a smile. “I’ll let you give me a full exam when we get home.”

  Theo coughs, and I shake my head.

  “You’re impossible you know that?”

  “I’ve been told.” He places a hand on my leg, the other one clutching his side.

  His head rests back and he closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath, and I can tell there’s more than just physical pain behind it.

  “Do I even want to know how you found out I was fighting?”

  “Jason.” His name forms a bitter taste on my tongue.

  Moody gives a small nod, and I’m surprised when he doesn’t question me more.

  The three of us drive in silence until I pull up to the curb outside of Theo’s gym.

  “You’re lucky Izzy called me.” Theo’s voice is strained, and there’s a hint of anger there. “That bastard wasn’t going to stop. If I hadn’t–” I hear Theo swallow.

  “It’s over now.” There’s something in his tone that makes my chest tighten.

  I catch Theo’s gaze in the rearview mirror, and see my concern reflected there.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow and check in.” Theo’s door rattles the car when it slams shut behind him.

  “You missed the turn,” Moody says, resting his head against the seat and closing his eyes when I head south on Juniper Ave, rather than turning north towards his apartment.

  “I’m taking you back to my place.”

  His eyes stay closed, and he mumbles, “You’re done ignoring me now?”

  I wince, knowing I deserve it. “I don’t really have much choice, since you refuse to go to the hospital and you need a doctor.”

  “That was my plan all along.” He gives me a sidelong glance, lips twitching up, despite the pain he’s in.

  I have so many questions, but there’s a heaviness around him that stops me. Whatever was said in the ring affected him, more than any physical wound my brother could inflict.

  His hand
is still on my leg, large and warm.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that.” Each word seems pained, and when I glance at him, his eyes are clouded and distant. “I didn’t know what Jason was planning. That it would be Griffin I was fighting.”

  I take one hand off the steering wheel and grip his fingers.

  “Jason said you made a deal with him.”

  “One fight for Griffin’s debt.” His fingers tighten in mine.

  I suck in my breath. “Does Griffin know?”

  Moody shakes his head. “I think Jason played us both. Offered us deals in exchange for the fight. I seriously think he thought we’d kill each other.”

  “Shit.” I pull to a stop in front of my apartment. “I wish you would have told me.”

  “I was going to.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “But you weren’t returning my calls.”

  “Right.” I glance down and bite my lip. “I’m sorry. I just needed time.”

  “I know.” Dark eyes study me, and I can see the questions he’s holding back.

  His handsome face is marred with bruising, and I reach out and run my fingers gently across his cheek. “I’m sorry Griffin did this to you.”

  “I’ve had worse,” he says chuckling, the movement making him wince. “Plus, I needed him to knock me out. It was part of the contract. I may have said a few things to encourage him.”

  Frowning, I drop my chin and ask, “Like what?”

  He shifts in his seat, grimacing, then cups my cheek, thumb brushing against my bottom lip. His gaze holds mine for a long moment.

  “I told him that I’m in love with you, and if you’ll say yes, that I’m going to marry you.”

  I inhale deeply and swallow hard, trying to reign in the emotions that threaten to destroy my last ounce of self-preservation. But it’s no use, a tear slips free, spilling over my cheek. Then more come, until my vision is blurred with them.

  “I think you got hit too many times in the head tonight.”

  The smile he gives me is void of humor. “My head’s fine, and so is my heart. But I understand that you need time. I just want you to know what I want.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but he places his thumb over my mouth to stop me. Which I’m glad for, because no matter what I say right now it’ll end up being the wrong thing.