Page 39 of Rage
She brushes a tear away, and fuuuck, I feel like shit.
“Now. I’ll message Tyler. I just want to get it over and done with.”
“I went for a run with Viper this morning. He said he’ll join us to help out. Said he’s got nothing better to do.”
Her lips curve up. “That was nice of him.”
Internally I cringe. Viper’s happy to help her out, but he’s doing it more for my sake.
“There’s actually a few machinery and equipment items for my business that might be heavy, so it would be good if he helped.”
Relief surges through me.
When we go downstairs, I say, “I’ll meet you at the truck. I’ll go get Viper.” She goes toward the front of the clubhouse, so I go search of him.
No surprises—I find him in the kitchen. He’s bending over, his head in the fridge. “Viper,” I say, and he turns and raises a brow.
“Rose wants to go and get her stuff now. Is that all right? Are you free now?”
He nods. “Sure, I’ll go grab a shirt and follow you there.”
“You can catch a ride with us in the truck,” I offer.
He snorts, then smirks. “I’m not third-wheeling and sitting in the back seat. I’d just feel weird.”
Reaper and Bomber stride out past us with Twitch behind them. The stern looks on their faces make my heart race. Viper and I follow. As they walk toward the front door, I hold my breath... that’s where Rose is. I run and push past Reaper, forcing the front door wide open. It bangs against the wall. I scan the area. The Russians are standing by their car. The fighter, Ivan, stands tall, with muscles bulging out of his tank top. His eyes hold a glint, a mixture of mischief and menace, as if he’s sizing me up. He’s a big guy with a broken nose and a faint scar that runs across his eyebrow, but I could take him.
Rose is off to the side, shoulders slumped and head bowed. I bolt to them and slam Ivan against the car. My blood burns through my veins. “What the fuck did you say to her?” I ask in a feral snarl.
Two people grab my arms and pull me back. I writhe and scramble to get back to the piece of shit, but I’m being yanked back.
Ivan’s manager, who’s smiling, says, “Don’t you lay a hand on him. You can’t... not until the fight.”
“You’re scaring her,” Viper’s words penetrate my mind, and the anger simmers down. It’s still there, but it’s not overtaking me. I look over at Rose. She’s glancing between us, holding herself tightly.
“I’m fine,” I spit out, and Viper and Bomber loosen their tight hold.
I stride over to Rose. “Are you okay?” I ask gently.
She nods, frowning.
I pull her in tight while I hear Reaper say, “What the fuck are you doing here, at our home?”
“We just wanted to check in and confirm that tonight will be a fair fight,” said the manager.
That’s not the only reason.
“Our fights have always been fair, and if you’ve spoken to any of our associates or the fighters, you’d know that already. We’ve always had a good reputation, so what are you really doing here?” Bomber’s hardened voice is cold and echoes his suspicion.
The tension doubles, and I pull Rose tighter, so her back is to them.
Ivan glances at Rose and me first, and a cruel smile curves his face. I glare back. He turns to the men and puts his hands up in a defensive gesture. “I didn’t mean to offend anyone. We’re new to fighting here. I wanted to make sure it was going to be fair because Rage is one of yours.”
Reaper stands tall, eyes narrowed, and takes a step toward them. “This conversation should have been had at the warehouse. Not at our home. Show some respect. If something like this happens again, I’ll kick you out of the competition. Easy as that.”
Their eyes bulge. “No disrespect. We’re going,” the manager says and opens the car door. He gives me one more glance before they go.
When they leave, I stay standing frozen, watching the dust turn into clouds behind them as they speed away. I inch back from Rose and cup her face so that my gaze meets hers. “What did they say?”
